#THE PEARLS CHANGED MY FUCKING LIFE LAST MONTH
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Particular with nicknames
Why hello there!
This was written last september (2023) and has since been sitting in my draft, making me rewatch streams because no pathetic reasons at all i swear. Anyway, here is Jaskier having a Moment TM when Geralt uses a very specific nickname.
Thank you @ahh-fxck for helping me beta read <3 much appreciated!
Please enjoy streamer!Geralt and Pathetic!Jaskier! <3
On Ao3 here
For all the love Jaskier has of words and language, he is strangely picky with nicknames.
It’s not that he dislikes them, he is just strangely neutral. Alright, that’s not true.
His famously ill-advised and stormy relationship with Valdo came to mind. Jaskier had fallen promptly out of love with him when he was called ‘Snugglebutt’ in front of all of their friends. They were together for another month or so past that, because Jaskier thought himself cruel and wanted it to work.
Well, it did not.
Nowadays he shares a flat with his long time best friend Geralt, one of the few constants in his life and the one who just might own about two thirds of his heart.
It’s not a big flat, but they have a room each, a small kitchen, and a shared living room. That is also where Geralt has his small streaming corner set up, back against the wall and facing the room.
Easier that way to keep it clean if he streams with the camera on, no accidental flashing unsuspecting viewers that way. Something learned by trial and error, as Jaskier tends to run warm and just forgo pants. And shirts. And socks.
They also share their flat with a terrible little cat named Roach, who has never quite warmed up to Jaskier. Took to Geralt the instant she saw him, however, and the two are inseparable whenever Geralt is home.
All of this in itself is not an issue. Oh no, all of this is more than fine.
Watching Geralt be sweet with the terrible little furball makes Jaskier’s heart ache pleasantly, listen to him coo about her fur being so shiny and smooth, what a good girl she is, wow look at that yawn!
No, the problem came up the first time as Geralt was lazily watching TV on the couch, back to their little kitchen where Jaskier had just served her royal highness some very expensive cat food.
Roach does as she always does when Jaskier is involved, and simply walks out. It’s routine by now, and the food is usually gone by morning. It’s more about Jaskier knowing his place at the bottom of the list than not liking the food.
But as she returns to the living room with Jaskier trailing after, considering plopping down on the couch too instead of working on his doctoral thesis, Jaskier finds himself fundamentally changed.
“Hi baby.” Geralt says, voice all sweet and dark and gravelly, and fuck.
It is very much aimed at Roach, who is being a cutie, begging pets from under the table.
But Jaskier’s insides do a kickflip, his brain short circuits.
Flushing deeply, Jaskier can’t control the little HRK sound escaping his throat.
He is frozen in his tracks, tongue tied and feeling absolutely pathetic.
Geralt turns around to look at him with a questioning frown.
“You ok there?” he asks, Roach climbing the couch and up to the backrest, demanding attention.
“Just peachy,” Jaskier squeaks out, and then flees to his room.
Holy fucking shit and mother of turds.
Baby?? Of all the nicknames in the entire world, that is the one Jaskier is going to have a meltdown about?
Just, the lazy way Geralt said it, Jaskier feels like an old maid, clutching his pearls.
It’s fine. He will be fine.
It was meant for Roach, of course, it’s fine.
It is not fine.
Geralt is streaming, talking with some other players. He is not a big name, but he does have a following, and sometimes gets invited to other streams if it's a multiplayer game.
Jaskier is moving around the living room, untangling the nest that their couch has become recently, blankets and hoodies and socks thrown everywhere. He is also holding a banana, somewhat forgotten in his new mission to make the couch sittable.
Part of his distraction comes from listening to Geralt talking, there is a lilt to his voice when he is on stream. It is unclear if Geralt is aware of doing it, but Jaskier can listen to it forever.
While in the process of moving one blanket over to the footrest, Geralt laughs at something said in his headphones.
“Oh baby, I didn’t know you cared!”
Jaskier drops the banana.
Feeling like a deer caught in headlight, Jaskier is unable to do anything but staring, feeling heat climbing his neck, up to his cheek.
Then Geralt’s eyes meet his over his screen, his face is neutral but his eyes are knowing.
Fuck fuck fuck he is in so much trouble.
Maybe it’s fine to have that many blankets. Perfect for hiding, perfect for pretending the way Geralt says ‘Baby’ doesn’t go on loop in his head, and will be for days.
Jaskier is in a constant state of fear.
Ever since the Stream Incident, as he has come to call it, there is this new tension whenever they are in a room together. Where Geralt will look at him consideringly, where Jaskier will pretend everything is as per usual.
He has gotten better at not freezing, but a thrill runs through him every time Geralt uses That Word, making very unsubtle eye contact as he does.
How is his poor heart to cope?
Sometimes, late at night, when Jaskier is unable to sleep and he knows Geralt is still streaming, Jaskier joins in to watch. It is uncertain if Geralt has figured out it’s him or not yet, he has sneakily named his account to Bardelicious, and doesn’t usually join the chat.
Tonight, Geralt is playing a fantasy game. A monster hunter and his bard, fittingly enough, and he makes light commentary about things in the game.
Until there is a scene where the bard does something noble, stupid and somewhat foolish.
“Oh, baby.” Geralt says sadly, shaking his head.
The chat goes absolutely wild, more than one asking him to say it again, to call them baby, which is a little weird and also absolutely fucking valid.
“Why are people so weird about that?” Geralt says, chuckling. The replies roll in, and his eyebrows climb up his forehead. Jaskier’s heart is beating hard, because this could either be really good or really bad.
“Sexy? Doubt that.”
Jaskier regrets it as soon as he presses send, and by then it’s too late.
‘It is when you say it.’ was all he wrote, but it was the first thing he had written in there. Geralt doesn’t know it’s him.
It should be fine. He is fine.
Some more responses follow, but Geralt is strangely quiet. The game scene plays out, the monster hunter and his bard having a nice bonding moment.
It’s soothing to watch, to hear Geralt’s commentary every now and then. He falls asleep with his phone in his hand, earbuds still in.
The next morning, Jaskier is woken up by the scent of coffee and a hungry Roach yowling in the kitchen. She only does that when Geralt is around, so it is safe to assume he is up.
Which is a little odd, because Jaskier fell asleep before the stream was over, and he feels like death warmed over.
His jaw cracks when he yawns. Lured by the scent of coffee, he manages to get out of bed.
Geralt is indeed up and about, Roach winding affectionately around his legs as he prepares her breakfast.
“Morn,” Jaskier rasps, scratching his stomach and giving another yawn.
Roach doesn’t even look at him, fully focused on her man and her meal. The bowl is placed on the floor for the queen herself, and like the gremlin she is, she eats it without a fuss. Little bastard.
Jaskier joins Geralt at the bench, seeking coffee like a flower seeks the sun. He can stop when he wants, coffee is not an addiction, it is a way of life.
“Were you up all night? Hand me a cup, will you?” he says, reaching for the fruit bowl that Geralt for some reason keeps religiously stocked.
In reply, he gets one of the typical hums, which could mean absolutely anything, and two cups. Jaskier pours for them both and Geralt adds the usual unholy amount of sugar to Jaskier’s, which makes him smile.
“Any plans for today? I really should be working on my thesis, but I can’t be arsed.”Jaskier leans back against the counter and sips at his coffee, which is still a little too hot.
Geralt is watching him over the rim of his mug, sipping on the steaming coffee.
“I have a thing I thought to try,” he says, voice gravelly, eyes locked on him.
It makes Jaskier’s stomach flip, and he takes a too big sip, the drink burning his tongue and all the way down his throat unpleasantly.
“Yeah? Anything you want help with?” Jaskier asks nervously, realizing he is still holding his chosen fruit without eating it, so he puts it down on the counter.
The corner of Geralt’s mouth ticks up into a crooked smile, and yeah, Jaskier is in danger. It is way too early in the morning for Geralt to be such an absolute heart throb.
“If you are willing.” Geralt says, and Jaskier finds himself nodding despite himself. If Geralt asks him if he is willing, the answer will probably always be yes.
“Sure! Uh… What is it?”
Geralt takes a step towards him and puts his cup on the side of the counter. Then he grabs Jaskier’s cup out of his hand and puts that down too.
His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat, his hands now clammy and gripping the counter behind him.
Geralt inches forward, the space between them shrinking fast. He stops just shy of touching him, and tilts his head, white hair falling over his shoulder.
“So I was streaming last night,” Geralt begins, and oh dear, oh no. “And there were some interesting comments that I couldn’t get out of my head.”
“Uh… Oh?” Jaskier says dumbly, and Geralt huffs a soft laugh, breath hitting Jaskier’s face.
“You're particular with nicknames, right? I mean, you are still mad at Valdo.”
With growing worry, Jaskier is starting to realize where this is going.
“He called me snugglebutt. In front of people. That’s embarrassing!” Jaskier defends himself faintly. Geralt leans in an inch more, leaning against the countertop and crowding Jaskier against it. Fuck.
“But that’s not what you think when I say ‘Baby’, is it?” Geralt’s eyes are trained on him, and smiles when he notices Jaskier’s flustered little sound, the way heat climbs up his cheeks.
In a weak attempt to save face, Jaskier looks down, anywhere but meeting the intensity of Geralt’s gaze.
It has the unfortunate effect of noticing how close they are, how Geralt’s t-shirt rides down just enough to reveal collarbones, how his hands flex against the counter.
“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong, Jaskier,” Geralt mumbles, leaning close enough for his nose to drag against Jaskier’s cheekbone.
Jaskier pulls in a breath, tilting his head in a way he hopes is invitingly.
“You’re not.” Jaskier whispers, and is rewarded with Geralt putting a hand on his hip, letting his nose drag along Jaskier’s neck. “You really, really not.”
“Is it the nickname? You look so startled whenever you hear me say it.” Geralt asks, one finger finding skin under the hem of Jaskier’s t-shirt.
“Just you. Pretty sure you could call me snugglebutt and I’d thank you.” Jaskier confesses, blurts really, when the rest of Geralt’s hand sneaks under his shirt to find his lower back, playing with the soft hairs there.
“Good to know,” Geralt smiles against his skin and Jaskier braves turning his head, their cheeks brushing together.
“Are you going to kiss me anytime soon, or are you gonna let me keep suffering?” Jaskier breathes, his hands finding Geralt’s and tracing them up his arms slowly.
“Hmm,” Geralt says, considering with a cheeky grin, the absolute bastard, so Jaskier takes matters into his own hands. Quite literally.
Geralt’s face is warm, rough stubble and barely visible scars and imperfections brush against his fingers. Geralt must have turned into it, because their lips slide together, coffee and morning breath mingling as Jaskier finds himself now properly pressed against the bench and Geralt’s body.
Then he is being kissed harder, deeper, and Geralt hoists Jaskier up on the counter, using Jaskier’s thighs to pull him closer, closer still, and presses open mouthed kisses against his neck. With a gasp, Jaskier scrambles to find a grip, to get some control of himself, but it is very, very hard to focus.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, baby?” Geralt murmurs against his skin, and Jaskier full body shivers. “I can feel you watching me, you are even in my streams.”
“You knew about that?” Jaskier asks breathlessly, stealing a kiss when Geralt shifts to look at him.
“If you wanted to be discreet, maybe you should have chosen something else than ‘Bardelicious’.” Geralt smiles, and Jaskier pouts and pinches his side in revenge.
“Why didn’t you say anything then?”
“Why didn’t you?” Geralt counters, and well, this won’t go anywhere.
“I like listening to you. I like listening to your voice as I go to sleep,” Jaskier says quietly, and Geralt hides his face in the crook of Jaskier's neck.
“Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Jaskier asks when Geralt stays there, melting into his body.
He doesn’t get anything but a muttering grumble in reply, and Jaskier smiles and strokes his hair.
“I need to find a nickname for you too. I refuse to be the only one being absolutely useless as soon as you open your mouth.” Jaskier murmurs into Geralt’s hair.
“Gmmrmgmg.”
“What’s that?”
“I said, ‘like it when you say my name.” Geralt says, and Jaskier is melting all over again.
“Well then, Geralt,” Jaskier purrs. “Let me finish my coffee, and then we’ll take a nap.”
Reaching for coffee without really letting go turns out to be hard, and when Jaskier with some struggle finally gets a hold of his cup, the coffee is still unreasonably hot.
They nap in Jaskier’s bed, both of them crawling in under the blankets and curling up together. Jaskier’s chin resting on top of Geralt’s head, Geralt’s arm slung over Jaskier’s chest.
When Geralt wakes up and press Jaskier into the mattress, it doesn’t take long for Geralt to discover exactly how to fluster Jaskier enough to splutter broken syllables.
It’s alright.
When Jaskier has recovered from being melted goo, he will return the favor.
#the witcher#geraskier#geralt of rivia#geralt x jaskier#jaskier the bard#modern au#gamer!geralt#dapanda writes#getting together#napping#pining#well something anyway#the draft name of this fic 'baby HRK' because yes that is the sound both author and bard made
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I've been thinking about this since a post earlier - one of the many vague anon messages to people who reblog from me - and the response, and... man, the older I get, the more exhausted I get by the way that Tumblr deals with certain things, and the weird approach to moral purity it has.
Listen: if what you want is to reblog from someone who is "not problematic," first of all, there's no one on this entire planet who meets that standard, but definitely not me. I've never made any pretensions towards being perfect, y'all. I'm absolutely not. I am a profoundly flawed human being, just doing my best every single day. I make mistakes, and I will continue to make mistakes as long as I keep breathing, because that's... that's what being human is. The only way to be unproblematic to absolutely everyone is to do nothing at all.
There was a time when I -- like many other people -- made the mistake of trying to live up to the endlessly changing, wildly conflicting standards of morality in the third space of social media.
I'm not doing that, now. I know who I am, and I'm trying to be who I am to the best of my ability, every day. I'm not here to be unproblematic for you, or for anyone else, including myself. I'm here to talk about the things that matter to me, again, to the best of my ability, and to be the best version of myself that I can, for the people I love and the people who love me.
It's super fucking cool that a lot of people like the things that I have to say, because I really like writing about the things that matter to me, and I really like talking with y'all about those things very much, but I'm not here to owe anything to anyone on Tumblr, much less the performance of wildly varying and quickly-shifting social standards.
Last month, I passed the tenth anniversary of my spinal surgery, the day where I almost died several times in one day when my blood pressure crashed over and over. It was the kind of near-death experience that people write about or put into movies, the sort where later on you realize that the recovery room wasn't pitch-black, your eyes just weren't working at the time, and that yes, you did spend an extended period of time having a conversation with a beloved friend who died sixteen days earlier.
At the time, I just thought she'd come to sit with me in the recovery room. It all seemed perfectly logical.
The past two years have included suicidal ideation in someone close to me to the point where that person wasn't permitted to be unsupervised or have free access to car keys for their own safety.
These crucibles, and their anniversaries, really bring the crude truth of life and its priorities up to the surface. I'm happy to be here, and I'm happy to share with y'all the things that I want to share, and to write about the things that I want to write about, but please don't get confused. I'm not here to dance to someone else's song, and I'm not here to perform for anybody.
If you want to come with me for the journey I'm going on, and if you want to talk with me about the things I want to talk about, that's great. If you don't want to do that, it's okay to block me. You don't owe me anything, either. Please don't tag me in posts where people rumor-monger about me, or clutch their pearls about me, or any of it.
You can interact with me or not. I'm not changing for you, and I'm not justifying my existence to you or anyone else.
Whatever I do, here or anywhere else, I do for me and for my family. That's it.
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I am loving Pearl so far, beautifully written, but WAIT because I have to know what the letters said 😭😭😭
thank you, anon! <3 i appreciate your sweet words 🥹 and thank you for asking, it inspired me to actually fill in this gap - hope you enjoy!
content warnings: best friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, mature themes, adult language, death of a parent, topics of grief, emotional hurt / comfort, self-doubt / insecurities - unedited - if i missed anything, pls let me know!
pearl masterlist
November 19, 1984
Eddie,
Sitting back in my dorm feels almost surreal. Everyone around me is going about their lives as normal, and I know I can’t be mad because obviously to them nothing’s changed, but how am I expected to join in normality? To just pick up where I left off at the start of the month?
You know what my chem professor told me? ‘We’ve all lost someone. The trick is to not make it your whole personality.’ In a way that makes sense to me. It’s logical. I can’t let my dad’s passing define me. And he obviously would want me to move on with my life. But Eddie, my heart bleeds.
This grief… This grief is swallowing me whole. This grief has embedded itself into my core being and on most days, it’s fucking consuming me. I lost a parent, a protector, a friend. There are memories I’ll never get to make because he’s gone. I really lost a piece of myself. How come no one seems to get that?
You get that, right Eddie? I know you understand. You always understand.
I miss you. I miss my dad.
P.S. Excuse this tear stained paper. It’s a mess. I’m a mess.
P.P.S I’m sorry for running off on you the day of the funeral. It was just… a lot.
November 22, 1984
Eddie,
Nothing makes sense anymore. (Also, I know I just wrote you, but I haven’t sent that letter yet so you’ll get both together and can respond to them as one.)
I’m trying to catch up on the material I missed and the words blend together before my eyes. Well, I only have myself to blame. My mom offered for me to take the rest of the semester off and start fresh from the new year, but I thought the distraction would help. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I’m so sad all the time. And you know what the worst part is? Aside from the nightmares and this restlessness I’ve felt since the funeral, I just can’t stop thinking about you. What is Eddie doing, who is he with, does he think about me too?
Well, do you? God, this is fucking stupid. I know you do ‘cause you fucking call me everyday and I can’t bring myself to answer or call you back… Stupid…
I also think about our last moment together often… Actually, please ignore this letter, Eddie. Don’t respond. Like I said, nothing makes sense anymore, including my thoughts.
I miss you.
November 27, 1984
Eddie,
I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring your calls. I’m sorry I’ve had my roommate make up stupid excuses for me, that’s so lame. Most of all though, I’m sorry I haven’t called you back.
You’re trying to be there for me and I’m pushing you away. That’s shitty of me and really unforgivable. But the thing is, I think I’m doing it because I know you’ll always forgive me. That’s even shittier of me. I’m awful.
You deserve a better friend, Eddie Munson. You deserve the world and I only wish I could give you that. Instead, you’re stuck with a girl who runs away from uncomfortable situations and hurts you in the process.
I wish I could go back to the day of the funeral and change
November 30, 1984
I spent the entire day listening to my mom cry over the phone — tell me, does it make me heartless for not shedding a single tear? Thinking now, this is the first time I haven’t cried since the funeral.
Anyway, I’m failing the semester. Surprise, surprise.
Also, Jonathan and Nancy came to visit. Why didn’t you come with them? God, why am I such a loser? Won’t speak with you over the phone, but gets mad when you don’t take time from school to come see me. I’m sick of myself.
P.S. Thank you for regularly doing the groceries for my mom and helping her around the house. You have no idea how much that means to her, and to me. I love— Thank you, Eddie.
December 4, 1984
It’s been a month since my dad died.
The grief hasn’t surpassed. If anything, it’s gotten stronger. My roommate has to force me to do basic human things like eat and sometimes even shower. She’s really been my rock here these last few weeks. You’d like her, I think. She couldn’t be more different than you in style, but she’s funny.
I know you probably don’t have a high opinion of her now, considering she’s helping me avoid you, but—
I should really call you back. I’m sorry.
December 10, 1984
I haven’t sent a single one of these letters. You’ll probably never read them and know how truly awful I feel for ignoring you.
Eddie, how come things have gotten so complicated? You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s all on me. I wish we could go back to that day at Lover's Lake when you played your guitar for me. That was bliss.
I miss you, my Bobby McGee.
December 14, 1984
Eddie, you didn’t call today.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Not like I’ve given you a reason to call.
I wonder if you’ll even want to see me when I come home for the holidays. Probably not. That’s okay though. That’s okay…
December 19, 1984
Eddie,
Perhaps I’m saying this a little too late, but I appreciate you. Thank you for being my best friend and the entire reason why I know I’m going to be okay.
I think I’m in love with you. No. I know I am.
And I’m going to give you all these letters. Hopefully, you’ll read them in front of me so I can see your reaction when I say:
I love you, Eddie Munson.
I’m coming home for the holidays. I’ll come see you and I’ll apologise. With any luck, you’ll forgive me for being a cold-hearted bitch. With any luck, although I probably don’t deserve it, you’ll be my person again.
I'm yours, forever.
thank you for reading <3
& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella , @ashlynnkennedy , @ms1oftheboys
pearl masterlist
#these are actually a little sad#pearl (eddies version)#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x fem!reader#bestfriend!eddie#eddie munson x best friend reader#best friends to lovers
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2023 post
i'm struggling through this with a kind of broken keyboard (sticky M U J keys) so bear with me!
because the last month of this year has been such a fucking nightmare (that i'll be working to remove myself from come tuesday) i realized that the good things that happened this year kind of escaped me.
cause--this year was good, in ways that as always with my life cannot be seen by the outside world. it was a messy year but some things changed that i still haven't fully made sense of.
-this year i met so many cool people on here, or got closer to some other people who i'd known before. if "meeting cool people on tumblr" was a skill you could put on your resume, i would definitely feel qualified to put it on my resume, but this year i feel like i just got acquainted with a really high quality group of people (all who support different teams, too!) and that's been so much fun and rewarding as well. i always feel a bit guarded telling people that i care about them but...i do. a lot!
-this june i went on a #YOLO trip to the netherlands that i could not afford but even now when i see my charming credit card debt i have to say i have No Regerts. i got to meet two of these tumblr friends who i've been close to for long enough that they've transcended "internet friend" for me and feel like Friends I've Known a Long Time. we had such a comfortable and fun time travelling together, to a place i've wanted to visit since i was young, and the benefit of meeting Tumblr Friends in real life is that you can make sure everyone's brain needs are taken care of! together we went to see italy beat NL (feat. virg van d slur in the flesh) in the stadium and then watched croatia lose to spain in the basement of a sports bar in utrecht and they got to see that it's 100% true that i cry during the croatian national anthem before the game 😂 i got to do so many bucket list things--visit the rijksmuseum, go solo to delft and see all the vermeer places and settings of my favorite book, girl with a pearl earring (and accidentally wander into a government building looking for a church, whoops), and see the girl with a pearl earring herself for the second time, but this time at her home in the mauritshuis. also i took a lot of fun trains and like every time i go from american Big Corn Syrup and Weird Additives food to europe, everything i ate was good as fuck. and i slept in a pod for two nights! i have the opposite of claustrophobia (claustro...philia? lol) so that slapped. so great, and getting to meet up with friends who live on the other side of an ocean is so fucking special.
-LAMPARDVERSE! nuff said, but it's been an absolute blast getting to co-create it and research all the lore. this is just the beginning, long may it live!!! also thanks to you all for putting up with me blasting a white english chelsea man on your dashes. it will happen again.
-irl stuff...the most unexpected. this year i was able to comfortably become friendly with people who are quite different from me. i was confident in the parts of my personality that are Different--i had fun owning it, and i saw that people really like that person. the craziest thing was that a huge obstacle in my path was that cptsd causes me to feel physically uncomfortable around people, even people i like, aside from emotional discomfort, but the thing is when your body is getting physical danger signals they're extremely difficult to "ignore" (for a reason!) or put aside to focus on the mental stuff.
this year i just went for it--went through months of extremely draining and uncomfortable "exposure therapy" by way of forcing myself to try to stay present in conversations with people i knew i liked, even if the conversations/their presence freaked me out and drained me. (i'm not some magical uwu inspiration/good luck miracle, for anyone who might be in this situation and feel envious--i've been in intense therapy since 2013, do a lot of my own mental work in between, and take two different medications. it took me 10 years to get there! i say this cause there is no shame in the hard work.) importantly, with the people i felt i trusted enough and whose opinion of me i valued enough for them to know the truth, i just told them what was going on with me. not in any graphic detail or TMI, but i told them one of the things that has a big impact on how i present to the outside world (i suffer from trauma), what this trauma suffering looks like to the outsider (sometimes i stop talking altogether in a conversation, and not just that, but i zone out so hard that it looks like i'm not even paying attention, even though sometimes i still am), and what it means about how i feel about them/how they should take it (it means nothing at all, so please please don't take it personally)
they took this level of openness and honesty very well, and i found that telling them these limitations of mine helped to set me free. not living with the lifetime fear of being "found out," not having to worry while i was having a Trauma Moment that people were thinking badly of me and that it was severely impacting my socialization--all of this suddenly helped me start staying in the present while talking to people and while people were talking to me. and not just stay in the present but--ENJOY it. get something out of it. and, to show my work-friends that even though i have a lot of things not in common with them--that that's cool, and we still have plenty of things we do have in common
the kindness people have shown me this year after Seeing Me and getting to know me was unreal. i don't know how to process it. (this applies to you guys on tumblr too!). so many things have happened this fall and so many things were said to me that i never, ever, EVER thought i would be able to experience. i hope this lasts and i hope i can build on this in the new year.
so yeah...this year was...something alright. i'm always an even age in an even year and the evens are never as good for me as the odds (other than like, age 14. that was a good time.) but let's hope for the best.
now, i hate new year's eve/day, so let's get this shit over with!
#originals#writing this with this wretched keyboard was a nightmare#macbook keys are just scary to remove! the last thing i need is an actually broken laptop lol
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Since no one made a choice and choose a skittles in my last post, which is this, I decided to pick the black pearl. Black pearl, is the heaviest angst. See for yourself. This the sequel of this.
The song I listened to while writing this:
Tw: mentions of major character death (you), Suicidal thought
A full month of standstill.
How long?
It has been a month since he incinerated your body.
He missed the first two meetings in a daze.
When he didn't show up for the third, Mother dearest paid a visit.
A slap. A fresh new scar on the cheek from those darned golden claws, another addition to his already fucked up face.
Jerking awake in the bloody, tethered mess that was his body.
'Listen to mother' this, 'Be a good son' that. Threats. Pain, pain, PAIN PAIN PAINPAINPAINPA-
He didn't bother to patch himself up. The damn bug eventually did the job, anyway.
Couldn't even follow you to the afterlife.
The stuck up cunt wrinkled her nose, commenting on his 'personal hygiene', how he's not qualified to be a Lord with such neglect, better yet, they could put a stray lycan in his place and no one would tell the difference. Damn doll screeched, cackling at the comment, the sound ringing behind his eyes, his neck, his entire goddamn skull, the pain riding up and down, and up and down his spine. Moreau soon joined with that disgusting laugh of his, equally revolting as his face.
But his own eyes were dull. Unfocused. No clever rebuttal, or even a quip.
The giantess arched her brow, but her attention got quickly occupied by the black harpy's presence.
He didn't hear a single word out of that cunt's mouth.
He didn't remember walking back to the factory, or coming into his workshop.
He didn't remember when he picked up your bloodied t-shirt, color already fading from the countless times he rubbed it between his fingers.
He bunched up the front and buried his nose in it, taking a deep breath.
It no longer smelled like you. Only dust and blood.
He didn't cry. Because Lord Karl Heisenberg does not cry.
What bullshit. He didn't know how.
The only emotion he was fluent in was the anger. But for some reason, your death didn't bring it out. Without it, he was mute, no way to express his suffering.
So he sat. With your t-shirt still clutched in his bare hands.
For a month, not a single soldat was made.
Lack of maintenance led to machines breaking down, conveyors long stopped moving, bodies dangling from above. Backup generator kicked in, providing the place just enough amount of electricity to keep the lights on. Bodies in storage must have rotten down to the maggoty pile by now.
But he couldn't care less.
What did it matter? Say he does take down Miranda. If he does, and that's a big if. What then? All he could think about was to get cooped up inside the factory, as he's done for decades.
Decades. He's realized now, that all he's done before you came along was being holed up in this place, either experimenting on the bodies or plotting his revenge. This? This building? It was nothing but a workplace. Outside, inside, he had known no rest. He had to keep moving, keep thinking, keep working, lest he lost his goddamned mind, just like his 'brother and sisters'.
Your presence changed that. Just your arms around him liquified the tense muscles. Peck on the cheek as you passed by, and his frown smoothed out. He even got a proper bed for you, which, in the end, benefitted both of you as soon as you introduced him to the concept of 'spooning'.
Your jokes and helping hands. Rosy cheeks when he ruffled your hair once. His tools neatly cleaned and organized after his absence. That little paper-wrapped sandwich you slipped in his coat pocket, and later, a bottle of cold beer on the table. You somehow handing him the right tools and parts when he couldn't for the life of him figure out what was missing. Coming home to try out the new dish you made that day.
Home. At some point, it was no longer just a 'factory'. This was his home. A home he shared with you.
His grip on the shirt tightened, although the face remained blank.
'Go on without me.'
Your last words on that table, as he let you down one last time.
He tore the operating room to pieces, the pillars gave, ceiling fell down, the entire room collapsing in on itself. When he crawled out of the debris, he sat on the pile for hours.
Go on without you. How? How? You changed his life forever. You changed him. How was he supposed to live out his life now? How could he dream of a future, when everytime he tries to picture it, he only ever realizes that you were his future?
You brought a meaning to his life. His revenge had a purpose. With you, he was invincible, any and all pain, he could endure.
He put up with his siblings, the unholy tasks from Miranda, the witch herself, the godforsaken heap of shit that was this village, all so he could witness the one sight that made it all worth it, your smile. You were enough for him to soldier on, even in this hell.
And oh, what a surprise, he was okay with that. Never in his life had he known contentment, nor were he okay with being under Miranda's thumb for another decade, but with you by his side?
He could tolerate everything a lot better than before.
Maybe the witch noticed the change in his demeanor.
Maybe that's how she found out about you.
'Get the fuck away from me!'
Your petrified form, eyes showing nothing but terror.
His fault. It was his fault.
You showed him a glimpse of heaven and he sent you straight to hell.
A string of blood dribbled down his chin from where he bit down on his lip. He moved your t-shirt away from the dripping blood, even the very thought of tainting your possession with his presence too sickening.
'Go live your life.'
"I have no life, Buttercup." Your nickname echoed in the empty room. That was the last time he ever uttered that word, he decided.
Along with your name.
He had to start working again. He'd work, scheme, and wait, as he's done for years. And take his best shot. Either the bitch goes down or he does. Didn't matter. If Miranda does go down, however, he'd look for a way to join you.
Or maybe you'd not want to see him, even on the other side.
But what other choice did he have.
He carefully folded your t-shirt, and put it in the metal box that he took it out of. All of the reminders of you were there, the shiny bracelet he made for you twinkling, like the way your eyes did when he first showed it to you, with pursed lips and a hand rubbing the back of his neck like there's a stain he had to get rid of.
He clicked the box shut.
#karl heisenberg#lord karl heisenberg#karl heisenberg x you#resident evil village#resident evil 8#song: Little One - Highly Suspect#angst#heavy angst#writing practice#my writing#writing prompts#sequel#black pearl
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A Soft Place to Fall
Angst, one-shot. Darlin visits Gabe's grave and confides in him. David was there.
!! Trigger warnings: grief, mention of traumatic events, negative self-talk.
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Tones of pearl and soft blues filled the sky where the sun didn't yet touch. The day was still awakening but Darlin had spent all night without sleeping, staring at the ceiling, listening to music, or even weight lifting, doing everything they could think of to cancel out the intrusive thoughts, but nothing they did seemed to work.
A cold breeze whispered on their neck, telling their hands to embrace the cold body. It reminded them of the same whisper they felt when first leaving the apartment, still wondering where to go.
“Hey, Gabe… Surprised to see me?” with a raspy voice. You could see the air escaping through their mouth as they spoke. Their hands were in their pockets; they wore a black hoodie with black jeans and dark sunglasses. Darlin was never someone to care much about fashion, most of the time they grabbed whatever was closer and felt comfortable on their skin, and was black.
“I know I haven’t come here for a good while. Life has been really chaotic lately,” they knew whatever they were trying to say was only an excuse to the real reason. It was almost as if they disliked coming here, maybe it was too insensitive to admit it out loud, but Darlin didn't like the idea of Gabe being now only a place on the ground, a rock that could only stay still. It felt so wrong to see him that way, they wanted to remember the man he was, the wolf they ran with, but grief takes many forms, and Darlin was fighting with one of them. “I couldn't sleep. I felt tired, but my mind wouldn't shut up, so I came here,” did they skip a few steps as to why they came to see him, you wonder.
You had come here after long work with a client that lasted more than you’d have wanted it to, what you didn't expect was anyone to be here. Darlin sighed, looking at their feet, and continued. “A lot has happened. I’m not sure if anyone has told you already, but Dahlia has been through a fucking nightmare. I can imagine someone has already been here crying and rambling about everything,” Their words tasted bitter, it’s not like they were actively trying to be mean, their emotions were all over the place and the lack of sleep didn’t help their humor. “But I wouldn't blame them… You’ve always been there for everyone… Even tried to be there for me,” slower and quietly now, they spoke.
“I didn’t think it would affect me this much, you know? I wasn't there and yet I can’t put it behind my back, I can’t pretend it didn't happen. I feel sick just thinking about it…
“Going over to Sam’s place that day was healing, in a way, but everything felt more real after that,” they frowned. “I don’t fucking know how to deal with this. I can’t ignore it, everyone will think I’m an asshole if they didn't already, but that’s the only way I know how to go about things, that’s the way that gets me through shit,”
The silence was as heavy as their frown now, Darlin could only hear the birds in the trees waking up and the grass dancing with the wind. Their thoughts went to the flower store lady at the entrance and the cat laying on the ground, grooming its little paws. The werewolf didn't stop to buy anything, they hadn’t brought any money with them, now they kinda wish they did, it would have been a good opportunity to change topics.
“I wish I was a cat,” attempting to lighten the mood. “No worries, only eating and sleeping,” They let out a deep sigh, scratching the back of their neck. “It’s weird talking to you like this. I heard a few people saying it helps, but it doesn’t feel like that. I’m not talking to you, I’m… Talking to a rock… But I guess that’s what I wanted, to not bother anyone,” shit, they thought, letting the truth slip like a kid in the snow.
The recently cut hair brushes on their neck, they cut it even shorter this time, and the sensation is still weird after so many months of skipping it. You notice the redness on their cheeks and nose by now as they extend their neck. “They should have worn something warmer,” you say under your breath, without realizing how closer to them you had gotten.
“I thought it was a waste of time going to that event. ‘Why would I go to that stupid event, watch people use their powers, and get praised for existing?’, you know?” they face down, “I was stupid,”
It’s not their fault, they could have never guessed something so horrific would happen, and it’s not like Darlin being there would have prevented it either. Why don’t you tell them that, why won’t your body move? You watch as they sit on the ground, crossed legs and elbows on their knees; nostalgia takes over you and now they look like the small kid alone in the forest, talking to a dying tree, the one you use to stare at, like a painting.
You are so close to them and yet so distant. They could probably smell you if they were paying enough attention, or maybe the place itself already has your smell all over, from the countless days and nights you used to spend here.
“I’m bounded to Quinn, Gabe…”, your heart shrank and burnt in your chest, wanting to escape through your mouth. You didn't expect Darlin to say this. “He and I crossed teeth–” Your vision got dark and everything around went quiet, your heartbeat was on your ears, beating faster every second.
“I can sense him …
“... he can most likely feel the same …
“You said he was bad news … I wanted him to be …
“, the more time I spent with him … I saw–” you try to keep in control.
“... reporting him … Dump didn't do shit, as usual …
“… he found out,
“...my friend,”
You finally get a hold of yourself when Darlin shifts in their movement. The curve of their back was more prominent now as if the weight of the world was on their shoulders. Darlin couldn't take it anymore, the more they said the blurrier their vision got. So they let it rain, tired rivers made paths across their face and sweaty palms built bridges. You made room for Darlin’s melody.
“I don’t know what to do, Gabe. I’m falling apart every day and night… No amount of holding me could keep me from breaking now. I don’t know what is going to happen when Quinn comes back if he ever does… Will I live forever in fear of that happening? I thought I was strong enough to handle it but the only strong thing here is my body, I can only fight… I,” nails crave in their cheeks, with a trembling body, “I don’t know what to do with myself,”
The sun was gently covering them with warmth, like a mother embracing their baby, a nostalgic feeling long forgotten, a soft place to fall, that was Gabe now, they realize. The image makes you want to do the same, embrace them until the pressure of your stronger arms is greater than their pain.
They wipe the remains of dry tears, and get up from the ground, breathing in the cold air, once again. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll bring you flowers, dad,” placing their hand on Gabe’s engraved name, before walking away.
You finally get closer to where Darlin was, smelling the trail they leave behind as they disappear in the fog.
“I wish you’d talk to me, I could try to help…” you whisper, wishing you’d someday yell it to them, loud enough for them to hear it and never doubt it. “If only you weren’t so stubborn,” David sighs “Loving you hurts, my darling,”
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I absolutely need to expand this more and I will once I place the timelines down on my google sites. 𝒑𝒓𝒆-𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒗 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆. 1915-1947. mentions child abuse / bullying, suicide, terminal illness /
1915 --- leon hiram marshall is born in boston, mass, to rose grace marshall nee davies + hiram ulysses marshall, two months premature, the doctors say he probably won't make it over night.
1918 --- leon is three years old and incredibly behind for his age. ulysses comes home from world war one, he hates his sickly son and his deranged wife, you can imagine what kind of household this was.
1918-1930 --- leon suffers tremendous mental + physical abuse at the hands of not only his father but his mother too. the tail-end of 1930, he was sent away to military boarding school at age 15, to "toughen him up."
1930-1932 --- the boarding school was rough, he was in bad physical health and he was bullied daily, until one day he fought back, broke his bullies nose however got expelled.
1932 --- time was at a stand-still when he finds his mother dead in the bathtube, at 17 he leaves his family home... for good this time and moves to new york. he can't be around his father anymore.
1932-early 1939 --- life was not fucking easy ever, jobs were hard to come by, when he did work it was hard because of his physical and mental health. he started to think his dad was right at how weak and pathetic he was. he gets diagnosed and finds out he doesn't have long to live.
early 1939 --- a man by the name of frederick vought offers him a chance to be in his "study" he called it with the unknown wonder drug of compound v. after some deliberation, he accepts. he signs a liability waiver and consent form.
mid 1939 --- the first injection of compound v ever goes into his arm. the rest of the adult volunteers don't live. he watches them all slowly die while he lives. he comes out stronger and healthier than ever.
late 1939-1941 --- the threat of war is encroaching on the united states, and the compound v program at vought labs accelerates
1941 --- leon enlists in the united states military, with a glorious recommendation from a high-ranking officer overseeing parts of the compound v project. he's shipped out to europe shortly after the attack on pearl harbor. 1941 --- the second major even of this year was the death of his father, leon made one last attempt at trying to connect with his father. which leon honey /: it didn't end well, his father just had more bullshit to say. he was drunk and not having any of leons presence. it was an accident really what happened. leon side stepped a punch his father swung at him and he fell down the stairs. hit his head on the way down and.... leon could've called for help, in fact he should've but he didn't he just stood over his father, as he bled out begging for leons help. leon said something along the lines of "you never helped me. you fucking worthless scum. rot. in. hell."
1941-1947 --- leon proud serves against the terror of n/azi germany. every once in a while receiving care packages from frederick himself with new formulas of compound v to inject, each one making him stronger than the last and enhancing his abilities farther. he was in the trenches with the troops, and aided in missions that seemed impossible without him.
1942 ---- his new suit (the one seen on the show), shield and knife are presented to him after his first mission in combat.
1947 --- he finally returns to united states soil, an incredibly changed man. in the time he was away--- serving and providing war propaganda shots, vought labs has become simply vought. and built atop the labs is a wonderous skyscraper, having profited so much. his saluting statue stands out front. vought is no longer a small location with only five scientists, it's a growing empire. captain leon hiram marshall vought was a war hero. vought changes his name to benjamin wright, against his will, but to "protect their asset" as they'd claim.
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skirt chasers — drabble iv
THIS IS A SKIRT CHASERS DRABBLE - FIND THE OTHERS HERE !
SUMMARY Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him.
WARNINGS JK POV!!!, attempted solo masturbation, k*ssing, jk’s extensive knowledge of pornos, grinding, cunnilingus, face sitting, spit kink, light choking, praise kink, self nipple play, a love for boobies, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, i love u kink, its kinda hinted tht oc has a somnophilia kink? not rlly but tagging just in case -_-
RATING m (18+)
WC 6.3k this can't even classified as a drabble anymore wtf
NOTES i have had this in my drafts since may 3. it is december 21. everyone point n laugh. anyway i very much love stimbo sc jk and i think he’s very cool so here’s a whopping 6k of the inner mechanisms of his big nerdy, college hottie brain <3
He doesn’t notice you’ve drifted off until he’s three solid paragraphs into his semester-long research paper. “Babe, can you toss me my charger it’s over…”
Jungkook swears he’s gonna take every single one of those stupid skirts and burn them to ashes. They had done their duty well, had given him the girlfriend of his dreams, but now they were just pushing their luck. What was once the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend, has now become the bane of Jungkook’s existence. He loathed them, he hated them, he could go twenty million decades without ever seeing them again because the torture they inflicted upon him was borderline inhumane.
Holy fuck, he knew you were gorgeous— hello, he was your boyfriend, thinking you were gorgeous was very high on the list of requirements you searched for in someone of his position —but he’s absolutely positive that you’re probably the sexiest woman he’s ever seen in all his twenty-two years. And Jungkook’s seen a lot of porn. Like, a lot.
He can’t help himself. Before Jungkook knows it, he’s rolling his desk chair over to where you’re sprawled across his bed, skin so soft where it presses against his pillow, lips so plush, and he’s pretty sure there’s a tiny, tiny droplet of drool begging to escape from between your puckered lips. Normally, he’d tease you to hell and back for this, knows how flustered you become when he catches you off guard, but today he lets it slide in favor of focusing on something else about your dozing form.
It’s the soft curve of your hips from where you lay on your side, smooth legs tucked close to you, and that goddamn pleated skirt giving you absolutely no protection from the eyes of the world around you. Luckily, he made sure to lock the door to his room when you came over today. And he’s almost positive Taehyung isn’t home anyway. So there’s no potential roommate to see you here, cuddled against Jungkook’s teddy bear, blue lace panties tucked between your folds.
They were his favorite.
Adorable and soft, and he knows that particular style— the cheeky kind —is your preferred style, because it’s the one he sees almost every time the two of you fuck. Seamless, because you hate when they tug against your skin, and baby blue simply because it was your favorite color. He can’t recall the last time they had been so exposed like this.
God, how many times had this same situation occurred? You dropping by to encourage him to do his homework, before eventually falling asleep and leaving him to his own devices. A lot of times, Jungkook guesses, because each and every time you wake up and nab one of his protein bars from the stash by his bed. Jungkook’s gone through four boxes in the last month.
But how many times had this happened with you in a skirt? Never. This was a rarity.
As the year progressed and yours and Jungkook’s relationship reached new levels of intimacy and adoration, Jungkook is sad to say the skirts had begun appearing less and less. It was winter and, unlike the furnace that was Jungkook’s body, he’s pretty sure you were a cold-blooded reptilian at this point, always leeching off of him for warmth. So since you couldn’t stand the cold, the skirts slowly faded into the background, replaced by Jungkook’s second favorite: the leggings.
He was no complainer, Jungkook respected your decisions! He wasn’t going to pressure you into wearing those cute tiny skirts he loved so much just because it fueled some PornHub-esque fantasy in his brain, especially not as a harsh winter descended upon you and the days became colder. He would not risk a sick girlfriend in the name of a horndog daydream.
But holy mother of pearl, Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him.
Sure he’d seen them every time you guys fucked— duh. But this was not the same. It was different, seeing the tender skin of your inner thigh when he knew you weren’t trying to, your skirt stuck between you and the bed as you shifted about. It was different, knowing he could so easily have you, just flip up the skirt and tug your underwear to the side, not having to worry about fighting your leggings or skinny jeans down your legs. It was different and it was good, so painstakingly good, to have you in the skirt, but the worst part was Jungkook couldn’t even do anything because you were fucking sleeping.
He’d subconsciously pictured you like this for weeks, sprawled out on his sheets in the flimsiest clothing and ready for him to just slide right in, but Jungkook was a good boy—you’d told him as much just last week when he’d paid the bus fare for that ragtag group of teenagers, smiling up at him like he was your entire world. Was he sometimes a little too mean, a little too wild? Yes. But at his core, Jungkook lived for your praise. He couldn’t just stomp on that title you’d so lovingly bestowed upon him, a title he’d worked hard for since!
Furthermore, even if Jungkook wasn’t a good boy, to touch you in your sleep just seemed wrong. You’d mentioned in passing once that you wouldn’t mind as long as it was him (“I’m yours,” you had purred at some party, hand crawling down his abdomen, “your doll, remember?”), but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to when you were so vulnerable and just… not there. It wouldn’t feel right to use your body when you weren’t awake, and no amount of encouragement from you would change his mind.
So he does what all good boys do and prepares himself for a quick, self-administered handfuck.
Sue him, his girlfriend was hot!
It’d been a little over two weeks since the last time the two of you had fucked, and it was mostly his fault; clinicals and research papers had practically consumed what little free time he had in his schedule. And if Jungkook remembers correctly, he wouldn’t be that lucky this upcoming week either. Something tells him your period was approaching.
Jungkook doesn’t know what type of sorcery you’ve done to him, but in the time you’ve been dating, it’s become increasingly more and more difficult to nut without you. Whether that be fucking you, listening to your voice, or just imagining your pretty face in his head, you held a monopoly over Jungkook’s libido, one that he feared you’d never let go.
He had years stacked on years of browsing PornHub and Brazzers, can recall experiencing some of the craziest orgasms of his life while watching some girl get fucked. All things come to an end. Ever since he started dating you, not even his favorite video could make him hard anymore. Oh, how the great have fallen.
But with your blue panties before him, his cock hardens by the minute, nearly doubles in size when you move about and sigh a heavenly sound. Frankly, he doesn’t feel bad jerking one off to the thought of you. You were his girlfriend! He knows that you know that you’re the main character of all his right-handed adventures, and you’re not going to be mad at him for jerking off to you now. In fact, Jungkook imagines you’d be mad if he’d woken you up just for some frenzied quickie. This way, he’s blowing off some steam and you’re getting an extra ten minutes of napping. Everyone wins.
He’s barely tugged himself out of the confines of his sweats when a soft mumble of his name has his soul leaving his body. “Kook?”
“Baby,” he exhales, immediately tucking himself back into his underwear before moving closer towards you. You roll onto your back, skirt useless as fuck, he thinks, as it sprawls around your waist. “What’s up?” he murmurs, voice gentle, a hand carding through the nape of your neck because that’s how you always wake him up. Jungkook would be a liar to say it wasn’t one of the best feelings in the world.
You say something, but it’s a mess of gibberish and too quiet for him to understand, before turning on your side again and shuffling closer to him. Jungkook smiles, runs the tips of his fingers over your cheek, before moving to caress your back, massaging some feeling back into your muscles. Some more mumbled words, but this time he deciphers them as something along the lines of “c’mere.”
He chuckles, ducking down to kiss your cheek. “Don’t wanna interrupt your nap, baby,” he hums. “Go back to sleep.”
You whine in protest, suddenly catching his hand in yours. “Please,” you sigh, eyes fluttering open, but they’re unfocused as you gaze at him. Jungkook clenches his teeth. Technically he should be working on that twelve page research paper, and even just trying to jerk off right now would have been a huge setback. Crawling into bed with you, where you’re so sinfully laid out for him to take, would completely offset his plans until tomorrow. He had to be a responsible student here.
“I really gotta finish my paper…” he says, trying to let you down as gently as possible, flashing you an apologetic gaze. He thinks he has it in the bag, and your extended silence almost has him rolling back to his desk, when you suddenly snap into action.
“But what about your dick,” you murmur, and Jungkook chokes.
“My what—?” he splutters, voice a little too high.
You say nothing, craning your neck to release a series of cracks, soft huffs leaving your lips. Jungkook’s on edge the whole time, eyes following the movement of your neck, the hypnotizing expanse of skin that bares itself to him. “Saw your hand down your pants,” you say, eyes blinking open, and though they’re droopy with sleep, at least you can hold them open this time.
Jungkook laughs nervously, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You saw that?” A soft hum. He wants to die. “Ah, baby, don’t worry about it. Know you’re tired, so just nap,” he sighs, caressing the back of your head once again, and he thinks he’s finally convinced you so he lets his guard down.
You moan softly, and he’s almost entirely sure it’s one of those waking up types of sounds, the ones you make when you’re stretching around the bed in the morning. “Want your cock.”
Jungkook swears he’ll die, right here, right now.
He groans, lowers his head to rest on the mattress. “Jesus, fuck, baby,” he huffs, has to count to ten to will the stirring of his slowly hardening cock away for the second time that day. “Don’t say stuff like that when you’re half asleep, please.”
You ignore him, the hand that had been wrapped around his wrist tugging him closer. You barely succeed, muscles still so weak, but Jungkook humors you and rolls his chair right beside your head, where he ducks down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Noooo,” you whine when he draws away too quickly.
A laugh blossoms in his chest, and Jungkook proceeds to rain down a series of kisses on your pretty face before he can stop himself. You melt under his touch, his affection, and Jungkook adores the way your body is so soft and pliant like this, back arching towards him after he places a hand on your waist.
“Come here,” you urge, voice a quiet plea. So soft, so needy.
Jungkook malfunctions for just a second before he’s clambering over you on the bed, manhandling your body until you're both on your sides, facing each other, with you pressed tightly to his chest. Even with your hands brushing up and down his back in the way that sends every nerve in Jungkook’s body tingling, and your leg thrown over his hip, some stupid part of him convinces himself you’re just cold, trying to warm up after walking around campus in that tiny little skirt all day. He cuddles you as best as he can.
And even with his dick twitching in his pants and his caveman instincts yelling at him to thrust up into your inviting core, Jungkook remains as professional as someone in a relationship can be when in bed with their lover. He’s so stuck on his self-control that he almost doesn’t hear the snort you muffle against his neck.
“What are you doing?” you laugh, reaching up to pinch his cheek. Jungkook blinks, eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights. “Are we gonna fuck or what?”
He chokes. He doesn’t even try to muffle his reaction like other times, because the way you’re looking at him and the heel you press against the back of his thigh preoccupies his thoughts instead. Your hands are still tracing along his back, melting him with your dainty touches. “Baby?” you question after he’s been silent too long, distracted by the way you use that hooked leg to tug your bodies closer.
“You… you’re still asleep,” Jungkook says, though it’s definitely a question.
You scoff, a smile curling around your features. “Mm, definitely not asleep,” you tease, and shift to push him onto his back, wiggling on top of him until those baby blue panties are pressed against his quickly hardening member. “Why? Wanted to touch me when I was asleep?” you continue, and Jungkook’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets.
“No!” he exclaims, hands clutching your hips in alarm. He can tell he surprises you, because your eyes go wide for a brief second. “Never…” he mumbles afterwards, looking away from your imploring gaze. “Only like you when you’re awake.”
You sigh, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek that makes his heart flood with adoration for you. “You’re a good boy, Jungkook,” you say back, just as quietly. “A blueprint for the perfect man.” Another kiss, this time against the corner of his mouth that makes Jungkook’s hands twitch against your sides.
A soft moan tears itself from his throat, fingers digging into your hips as you slowly roll them against him. The heat emanating from your core seeps past the thin barrier of his sweatpants, makes his cock twitch in his boxers. He knows how it feels inside of you, has your body memorized like the back of his hand. But it’s in moments like these that he finds himself aching for you, desperate to feel the fluttering walls of your pussy, the pitiful whimpers that fall from your kiss swollen lips. And, well. The skirt makes it all too easy.
He places two hands on the backs of your thighs, runs them up until he’s pushing your skirt up over your waist. You pull away from his lips with a sneaky little smile, pointer finger stroking down the side of his face lazily. “Mm?” you tease, leaving a coy little peck against his mouth. “Now you wanna touch?” Jungkook rolls his eyes, snaps his teeth at your wandering finger when you draw it too close to his mouth. The giggle you let out is so damn precious, makes him want to put you in a glass case and never let anyone else touch you. Coincidentally, it also makes him want to rail you into the mattress until you cry.
“I’ll fucking ruin you, doll,” he settles on murmuring, subtly pushing you down against him. A soft giggle. Jungkook knows it’s your favorite nickname, even if you won’t admit it. He's the only one allowed to call you it, something about his intentions being pure or whatever, he’s not really sure. Anyway, you’re still so cute and soft on top of him, blinking slowly and prettily, so he’s dragging it out a bit, hoping you’ll become more alert in a few more minutes.
As sleepy as you may be, you never miss out on a chance to rile him up. “As if, doll,” you retort, his nickname for you rolling off your tongue seamlessly. It sounds heavenly, sparks this weird emotion in him that he never considered before. Him, a doll? No way. But there’s something about the sweet lilt of your voice, the starry-eyed gaze you level him with, that has him throwing all reservations aside. Put him on a shelf and call him Barbie, because he would be anything you wanted him to be.
Anyway, Jungkook’s sappy thoughts last all of two seconds before he’s rolling you over, successfully trapping you beneath his body. “Oh, so scary,” you feign, hands fluttering to clutch at your chest.
He glides his hands down your body, let’s them trail over your hip and down the side of your thigh. “Don’t get sassy with me,” he warns, thumb peeking beneath the hem of your skirt. Jungkook really wants to burn the piece of fabric this time, because after all that time it spent torturing him with its halfhearted attempts at covering you, it chooses now to do it properly.
Hands are thrown around his shoulders, the overwhelming scent of your perfume and body wash tickling his nose when you pull him in for another kiss. “Or what?” you purr, irises swirling with lust. “Gonna use your manly man strength to hold me down?”
He shushes you with a kiss, slow and languid just how you like. Your taste is familiar, feels like coming home, so Jungkook can’t be blamed for getting too carried away. It starts gentle— it always does. But then a tiny mewl gets stuck in your throat, the following moan swallowed by his tongue, and Jungkook nearly loses it. He nips at your bottom lip, waits patiently for you to open up for him, and when you do he wastes no time diving in. Your tongue against his is slick and wet, makes the most lewd sound. Your little sharp intakes of air fill the gaps, shuddery breaths that Jungkook takes as a good sign.
He strikes while the iron is still hot.
It’s amidst your lazy kissing that he secures his hands around your waist, two reassuring squeezes thrown your way before he’s abruptly rolling onto his back again. “Kook!” you squeal, clutching at the front of his shirt. A pouty frown paints your face, sleepy eyes narrowing him with a rather unimpressed look, tainted with the barest hints of confusion.
Jungkook grins, reaching back to yank his pillow out from beneath his head. “On my face,” he commands suddenly, and you snort.
“What?” you ask a little incredulously, leaning back to level him with an even more lost expression. “Since when do we do that?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Since I decided twenty seconds ago,” he answers rather bluntly. You still don’t look too convinced. It’s not a position the two of you have ever tried. You’re a little on the sappy side, always like to look at his face while you fuck, hold his cheeks in your palms, kiss him sweetly. On the one hand, Jungkook totally gets it; he’ll proudly admit that the sight of your orgasming face paired with your fantastic tits have done him many favors these past few months.
However, Jungkook is a lover of head. Giving or receiving, it’s very high on his list of sexual acts and whoever invented oral deserved all the praise in the world. Not only did you look drop dead gorgeous with his cock in your mouth— tears trailing down your cheeks, drool clinging to the corners of your lips —but you also looked absolutely sexy receiving it.
Kinda.
Probably.
Okay, so maybe Jungkook can’t really say, considering he always has a hard time catching a glimpse of your face when he’s down there licking and slurping your clit like a madman. Which is what leads him to this exact moment, an experiment weeks in the making. Jungkook has a theory that needs to be tested. “Please ride the fuck out of my face,” he tries, hoping the polite tone will win you over.
He’s met with an eye roll. Still, you’re kinder than you let on. “Okay,” you give in, and Jungkook will remember your heroism for the rest of his life. “But only because being on top is empowering.” He just barely contains an over-enthusiastic fist pump into the air, settling on a rather modest smile that has you leaning down to kiss him again. You reach for the zipper on the side of your skirt. “Just let me—“
“The skirt stays on,” he says quickly, hand on your wrist to stop you from removing his most favorite article of clothing.
“Baby,” you say, giving him a rather serious look. “It’ll cover your face.”
“It won’t,” he urges, reaching for the buttons on your blouse instead. Jungkook has had one too many encounters with tops like these, and has long since learned not to tear them apart like a crazed psycho. As much as he loves the sound of your buttons scattering across his bedroom floor, he can’t say he’s too fond of the scolding he inevitably gets afterwards. Anyway, the shirt comes off and so does your bra, leaving your tits in his face, tiny skirt on your hips. “Get up here,” he murmurs, ushering you up his body until your knees are pressing into the mattress right above his shoulders.
If it was up to Jungkook, he would have just grabbed your hips and shoved his face against your pussy. Luckily, it’s not, and your common sense shines through just in time. “One sec,” you say, and then finally, finally, the blue panties come off.
And then it’s just Jungkook and your glistening pussy.
“Holy fuck,” he groans, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around your thighs. You squeak when he pulls you closer, hand instinctively reaching for the front of your skirt to hold away from his face. The view from here is heavenly, just your swollen clit, gorgeous tits, and shy face.
The muscles in your thighs are a little stiff. Or maybe you’re just nervous. Jungkook isn’t sure, all he knows is that it takes one encouraging tug for you to finally sit on his face. He doesn’t even register the surprised gasp that leaves your throat because he’s too busy tasting your pussy from an all new position. And it’s absolutely amazing.
Something about the position, having you carefully poised above him, does something to Jungkook. He likes to think he knows your body inside and out, knows what makes you melt and what makes you scream. He knows just how to lap at your cunt until you’re cumming, and how many fingers it takes for you to really feel it. But it’s like having you in this position changes all of that, rearranges all the tidbits of information Jungkook has spent months collecting.
(Jungkook is a meticulous man; he’s got a near perfect GPA right now that was the direct result of his carefully crafted note-taking techniques. Whether or not he abused the power of his perfectionist learning abilities to master the mechanisms of his girlfriend’s libido was no one's business but his own.)
One kitten lick against your swollen pearl makes you buck forward, clit brushing against his nose. Jungkook can’t remember you ever doing that on the first lick. “O- oh my—,” you cry, all airy and whiny. Your hand is pressed to the wall behind his bed, the other bunching the front of your skirt just above your mound. He’s rather happy to learn that, just as he’d hypothesized, this position does give him a better view of you.
He’s graced with the sight of your face, twisted up in pleasure. It’s the stereotypical eyes squeezed shut, lip caught between your teeth look. But there’s something different about it knowing that he’s gotten this reaction out of you with his mouth alone.
Jungkook quickly repositions you over him, tugging you back until his tongue is lined up with the front of your slit. You’re so warm down here, make him feel like he’s drowning with your heady scent alone. Tentatively, he lets his tongue dip between your folds, the very tip nudging your swollen clit. A moan tears itself from your throat, the hand that had been flush against the wall suddenly jumping forward to bury itself in his hair. “Oh- oh, fuck,” you shiver, hips jolting forward once more.
You taste good on his tongue, the arousal that coats your lips is sticky and sweet. When he laps his tongue along your folds, quivering hole to stiffened bud, you let out a sob that resonates deeply within Jungkook. And also Jungkook’s cock, which stirs beneath his trousers in excitement. What was once the focus of his mission, a quick handfuck to sedate himself before finishing his research paper, has long since been forgotten. It’s for the greater good, he tells himself, blinking up at you from between your thighs.
Eye contact lasts for exactly three seconds before you’re looking away bashfully, the fist clutching at your skirt trembling against your tummy. You’re so fucking pretty, Jungkook’s heart can’t take it.
And so he sets out on a mission to make you cum as soon as possible, abandoning his slow kitten licks in favor of suctioning his lips around your clit. “Kook,” you wail, tugging at his hair. Whether you do it purposely or not, Jungkook is a little shocked by how good the pain feels. It’s not an emotion he can ponder long, because then you’re using that same grip in his hair to tilt his head backwards, jerkily moving over him.
It’s rough and sudden, the buck against his face, but Jungkook loves it. The drag of your pussy against his lips, the wet glide of your juices smearing across his chin and Cupid’s bow. It all feels so good, and the fact Jungkook is getting a front row seat to the absolutely torn look on your face is just the cherry on top.
Jungkook has seen you make a lot of faces. He’s seen you shiver and drool as he nails you into your bed. He’s seen you sniffle and sob as he slowly fucks you in a rose petal filled bubble bath (a six month anniversary special planned by yours truly). He’s even seen your mirrored reflection fall apart as you bounced away on his lap in front of a mirror.
He’s never seen you like this before.
Needy and desperate, moaning his name softly, practically humping his face in your greed. Tiny skirt clutched against your waist, tits bouncing as you hurriedly grind against him. He has half the mind to burn this scene into his eyelids for the rest of his life.
He’s given up on doing anything with his tongue, simply sticking it out for you to do as you wish. Normally, he’s not a huge fan of letting you do things yourself. After all, Jungkook was your boyfriend. Making you cum was his job. But you’re moving so fast, so frantic, in your mission to cum. So Jungkook sits back and lets you go to town on his mouth as a series of moans spill from your lips.
And then something unforgivable happens.
Jungkook will admit it: he’s staring at you almost a little too dreamily, heart eyes and all. He thinks you’re fucking hot, taste like heaven and have these absolutely delicious boobs bouncing up and down. He’s a little distracted by your glorious figure that he doesn’t notice one crucial bit of information.
Your hand.
The desperate need to cum has your muscles weakening, thighs moving at a latent pace, and, much to Jungkook’s horror, hands trembling. It’s your own pleasure that lets the unimaginable happen: your skirt flutters down. Your grip on it loosens and before Jungkook knows it, the sight of your pretty face and nice tits are gone, snatched away before his very eyes. Even your wet cunt is impossible to see, his world suddenly shrouded in darkness.
Leave it to Jungkook to foil his own horny plan with, well, his horniness. If only he wasn’t so hopelessly in love with the image of you in skirts. Maybe then he could bask in the beauty that was you riding his face.
He acts fast, reaching for the material before he can miss out on anything. But the angle is weird, and without Jungkook’s hands holding your hips, you’re left weakly rolling forward instead. And he’s not the only one frustrated with this turn of events, your face quickly returning to its normal composed form as you level him with a frown. “Everything okay?” you pant.
Everything was not okay, but Jungkook isn’t sure how to tell you that without ruining this delicate moment. So he tries to show you with actions instead, releasing the skirt he’s got in his fist and letting it flutter over his face again. You giggle. “I told you so.”
It takes more willpower than he’d like to admit to pull away from your wet folds, pulling off with a lewd sound that has you biting your lip as you gaze down at him. “I told you so,” he mimics, a little mean but you don’t take it to heart. “Hold your skirt up.”
You hum, the grip on his hair loosening as you push away his dark locks instead. “Mmmm,” you hum. “No.”
“No?” he repeats, actually really scandalized. Okay, so he’s a little spoiled when it comes to you— it’s not his fault! You made him like this, conditioned him to think that you would always give into his every whim because you were just so sweet and considerate and wanted him to be happy. And Jungkook also wants you to be happy, and in his opinion, being happy right now means having him fuck your pretty brains out for ever getting sassy with him.
“I don’t listen to men,” you tease, followed by a cute little nod, skin still a little warm from your looming orgasm. Jungkook takes advantage of your tiny moment of weakness, and strikes like a viper.
A girlish squeal leaves your lips, hands stretching outwards as he knocks you backwards onto the mattress. “Jungkook,” you gasp, sprawled out artfully, beautifully, over his sheets now. He doesn’t waste a second longer, crawling over your body until you’re a shivering mess beneath him.
Hand against your throat, the other blindly reaching for the front of his sweatpants. “What is it, doll?” he drawls meanly, reveling in the way your eyes roll back when his newly-freed cock lands against your slit. A choked gasp leaves your throat, lashes fluttering wildly until Jungkook loosens his grip.
You’ve done a nice job riling yourself up, lips squelching wet and loose when he runs the tip of his cock along them. Your knees are pulled up for him, spread perfectly for him to fit between. You’re so good for him, Jungkook feels a little bad for how hard he’s going to fuck you now.
The sympathy doesn’t last long.
Once upon a time, you had been the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend. Had picked him up from class, encouraged him to do his homework, wore these cute little skirts around campus. Deep down inside, Jungkook knew everyone else was jealous of him— you were just so pretty and cute, a girl straight out of everyone’s dreams.
Until he sunk his horny claws into you. Jungkook will be the first to admit he spends a little too much time browsing porn sites— he’s a man, cut him some slack —which had never caused him any problems before. Even when the two of you were just friends (pining ones at that), you had never seemed even remotely affected by his extensive pornographical knowledge. It was a known fact among your friend group that Jungkook’s best friend was his right hand.
But then, of course, you started dating Jungkook and it was like a save file of all his horniest fantasies was downloaded directly into your brain. Which leads him to this.
“Spit in my mouth,” you shiver, got these huge, watery eyes pointed his way. His cock twitches.
There’s a little groan that tears itself from his throat when he leans forward, cock sliding along your folds, to grasp your chin between his fingers. “Open,” he commands, and you do. Your lower lip quivers, tongue pressed against it as you wait for Jungkook to spit down your mouth. He can’t say he regrets letting you peek through his porn stash, not when it leads to this, you whimpering at the hot glob of saliva he shoots down your throat. “Filthy,” he pants, memorizing the movement of your throat when you swallow like the good girl you are.
Before he can write another twelve sonnets about that dazed look on your face, he’s roughly grabbing at your thigh. You whine, limbs so pliant beneath his touch, letting him hike your knee over his forearm as he tugs you closer. “Fuck,” he groans, reaching down to align himself with your quivering hole. You’re still so wet, make the most lewd sound when he sinks into you. Not that Jungkook really hears it, the sound of your strained moans practically drowning everything else out.
“Fuck,” you cry, one hand clutching at his forearm, the other toying with your breast. It’s a magnificent sight, and Jungkook is suddenly feeling a little cocky when he realizes he’s the only one who gets to see this. It’s this presumptuous nature that fuels the first round of thrusts into your cunt, fast and full. He makes sure you feel every inch of him, tip to base, as he pistons his hips forward. “J— Jungkook,” you pant, back arching beneath him.
You take it so well, walls sucking him in every time he draws back out. “I’ve got you, doll,” he moans, hiking your leg further over his shoulder. Every roll of his hips has your tits bouncing back and forth, lower lip as well with the dopey, open-mouthed look you got on for him. And the damned skirt that got him here, fucking you with a punishing pace, sits perfectly around your waist. He has half the mind to take it off for you, briefly wonders if it hurts, but just looking at it reminds him of about thirty-seven pornos he’s seen. So it stays on, works alongside your lovestruck face to actively rewrite all those pornos anew with you starring in them instead.
It sure helps when you start your usual mindless babbling. “I love you,” you gasp, face screwed up in pleasure. “I- I love you so much.”
He’s contemplating doing a study on you and your weird mid-fuck confessions. You do this a lot, and while Jungkook doesn’t mind, it sure does leave him curious. “Love you too, baby,” he says anyway, repositioning his arms so he can hold your waist with both hands.
“Really?” you ask, voice so whiny, eyes brimming with tears. From emotion or your need to cum, Jungkooks not sure. (Hence the need for a study!)
Another brutal thrust that has you moaning loudly. “Really,” he reassures you, glancing down to watch his cock sink into your hole as he picks up the pace. Your arms are practically limbless, and his stomach is beginning to feel tight. The end was soon. “Love your pretty little face.”
Another whine, your fingers pulling at your pebbled nipples. “M- My pretty face?” you whimper, blink these long lashes up at him. They make Jungkook go a little mad, bring on a wave of jackhammer thrusts that cut your moans into choppy little cries instead.
“Prettiest girl I know,” he groans, not once stopping the movement of his hips. You’re quivering like a leaf beneath him, your entire body locking up as Jungkook guides you toward orgasm. “A fucking doll, baby— so beautiful for me,” he praises.
It’s exactly what you want to hear— secretly, Jungkook hypothesizes that you’re a little bit of an attention whore —crying out when he slows to a grind against you. Each roll of his hips has him rubbing over your swollen bud, leaves you trembling until you’re eventually unraveling beneath him. “Oh- Oh, fuck— Jungkook—“ you sob, writhing beneath him as you cream his cock.
Your tits look amazing, nipples stiff from your arousal and all the attention you’d been giving them. Your features soften, gasps framed by your pillowy lips. As Jungkook has said before, your pretty face was the most dangerous weapon.
He manages a few more pistons of his hips, mostly for reputation sake, before he’s eventually pulling out. His right hand, once the sole hero of his solo sessions, makes a valiant return now as he jacks himself off over you. It takes a few harsh pulls of his cock until he’s spurting his jizz over you, painting your tummy and your tits in white ribbons of cum. You flinch, a tiny whimper leaving your throat at the mess he makes. “Fuck,” he groans one last time.
When it’s over, you have the audacity to shyly pull down the front of your skirt. As if your tits aren’t out and about, but Jungkook pretends he doesn’t see it. Instead, he channels his energy into peppering your face in kisses. “Best girl,” he praises, even though he knows you hate the nickname. “My beautiful feminist queen.”
A pinch against his cheek. It hurts like hell, but he endures it for now, still very much in love with your performance today. “Get me a towel,” you huffily ask, uncomfortable with the jizz sticking to your tummy, as if he didn’t spit in your mouth a few minutes ago.
His research paper is waiting for him at his desk, the materials he’d spent weeks collecting waiting to be typed up. But his girlfriend is so soft and sleepy, asking him to stay for another nap.
There was never a choice.
Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
#networkbangtan#bangtanhq#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jjk♡#jjk smut#jungkook fic#jeon jungkook fic#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook x reader#bts smut#bts fic#bts jungkook#mine#skirtfic
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Tied To Me - F.W
Masterlist, Writing Prompt Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Taglist
Fred Weasley x Fem Reader
Prompt 102: Your cum flowed down his length, your insides starting to feel raw and sore from his cock pounding inside of you, you were feeling ravaged… and you were loving it.
Prompt 104: “Oh would you look at that” he laughed lightly “I can see my cock poke through your delicate stomach.”
Prompt 105: His warm sperm shot inside of your mouth, you swallowed it down, feeling it travel down your throat, filling you up.
Prompt 106: “Be careful” he warned you, fucking you faster “you know how bad I want to knock you up.”
About/Requested: Fred and Y/N go out for a meal, Fred bumps into some investors who helped him out with his shop a few months back - the investors flirt with you and tell Fred you’re out of his league, when you get home - you’re in for the night of your life.
Warnings: 18+, smut, mention of food and eating, dirty talk/vulgar language, swearing, breeding kink, unprotected sex, belly bulging, oral (male receiving).
"I can't believe I have never been here before, I can't believe I can actually afford this now!" Fred smiled widely, pride sparkling in his eyes.
He held your hand over the table in the warm and dimly lit muggle restaurant that played classical music during your stay. You smiled back at him and took a sip from your glass, swallowing the non-alcoholic cocktail.
"I'm so proud of you, Freddie." you stared into his prideful eyes and blushed as the waiter came over to take your orders, collecting your menus and walking off to communicate with the chefs.
"I couldn't have done it without you, love." Fred smiled, tracing circles into your palm "I'm really looking forward to our future, Y/N."
Your fancy, well presented, and mouth-watering dishes arrived, the two of you feeling slightly out of place surrounded by Rich families with perfect table etiquette and high class, a women sat across the room, playing with her pearl necklaces that rested upon her upper chest whilst her partner poured wine into his glass, the bottle costing more money than you had earned this month.
You and Fred ate your meals, discussing future plans, the taste of the food and how treats like these were more meaningful - although Fred insisted that you deserved more experiences like these and that he would make sure you experienced them more often now that his shop had become a huge success.
Drinking the last of your non-alcoholic cocktail, savouring the gorgeous taste of the raspberries, Fred asked for the bill which arrived just as fast as your drinks, he went bright red in the face realising he didn't completely understand muggle currency.
"Uh.." Fred couldn't look you in the eye, his embarrassment spreading across the room as other guests turned around to stare at him "Just give me one second."
Two tall men in suits were in the corner of the restaurant near the entrance door, talking to one another and pointing at your boyfriend when they spotted the back of his head.
"Fred-"
The two men walked through the restaurant, getting closer and closer to your table.
"I'm trying my best, Y/N," Fred stressed, staring at the change and pound notes in his wallet.
"Freddie, turn around!" You whispered, slightly worried and concerned for Fred's safety, the men looking rather intimidating in their suits, their hair slicked back with gel.
The taller man tapped on Fred's shoulder and spoke out in surprise, sounding rather surprised "Mr Weasley?!"
Fred turned around and burst into a cheeky grin, getting out of his seat and shaking their hands, getting stuck into an immediate conversation, you sat back in your chair and watched, slowly taking Fred's wallet, counting out the muggle money for him that he needed to hand to the waiter who stood behind the bar, cleaning glasses and speaking to other members of staff.
"Fancy seeing you here in a place like this!" the shorter man spoke out.
The taller man leant to the side, peering over at you whilst you counted the notes and getting the exact change of coins into the palm of your hand.
"Who is this stunning young woman?" he asked, walking over to you.
You stared up at the man who stared at you, not even two metres away from you.
"This is my girlfriend, Y/N." Fred smiled shyly, the shorter man next to him telling him how beautiful you are and how good you look tonight in your short and black, silk dress and red high heels that matched your lipstick.
"I'm Evan" The taller man outstretched his hand "It's a pleasure to meet you."
You went to grasp his hand to shake, Evan kissing you on the hand, instantly making Fred tick inside. The shorter bloke walked over and greeted you in the same way "and I'm Peter." he smiled, also kissing your hand.
Evan looked down at the notes and coins in your free hand, his mouth almost dropping to the floor "Oh Fred, you aren't making your girlfriend pay are you?"
Fred opened his mouth to speak but got cut off by his friend "It's on me, darling" he grinned pulling out a stack of notes, calling the waiter over "I'm paying for this lovely young ladies meal tonight, and her boyfriends."
The waiter accepted the cash and handed you and Fred tiny little mints for you to chew on as you left, Evan and Peter continuing to compliment you and stress how much you were out of Fred's league.
"Bloody hell! How did he manage to land you?"
"You've been dating for how long and he's not put a ring on your finger?"
"If you were my wife you'd be swept off your feet with children to look after!"
Fred wanted to rip their heads off, swing for them, demand that they clear off and never speak to either of you again - but no matter how infuriated and jealous he felt, he couldn't bring himself to do it; after all, Evan and Peter were the ones who invested in his business, to begin with.
Fred cleared his throat "I think it's time we were off, sweetheart" he pointed to the door with his thumb "got an early day tomorrow."
You nodded and put on your coat, pushing your chair in, Evan and Peter pulling you in for a hug and a friendly kiss on the cheek, encouraging you and Fred to meet them for a drink in Diagon Alley when you were available.
"Thank you again, Evan, for paying-"
"Don't mention it, Y/N! My treat!" he smiled, waving at you and your boyfriend.
"My Treat"
This pissed Fred off big time, this was supposed to be his night, treating you - not his investor swooping in and making him look like a right fool for not understanding muggle currency.
Fred grabbed hold of your hand and stormed out of the restaurant, both of you apparating home, the spinning and speed making you feel queasy and rather dizzy as you landed in your living room, falling on your sofa, the spinning slowing down and the three Fred's blending back into the one you loved.
Fred shook his head, an annoyed expression plastered across his face, he didn’t say a word and walked into the bathroom, getting himself ready for bed - Evan and Peter’s voices echoing in his mind, repeating everything they said.
“You’re too bloody good for him!”
“You’d be silly to stick around any longer without a ring on your finger.”
“I bet you’ll make a brilliant mother!”
“You’re punching, Fred, how did you manage to land her?”
“If I were you I’d propose already - before someone else snatches her.”
You walked into the large bathroom quietly, coming up behind Fred, wrapping your arms around him, resting your face against his back.
“Please talk to me,” you said softly “I don’t like it when you get in a mood and ignore me.”
Fred grumbled and unbuttoned his shirt, you pulled away and stood by his side, pulling on his arm.
“Please, Fred.”
Fred sighed and turned to look at you, shrugging off his shirt down his arms, catching it in one hand and placing it over the edge of the bath.
“I’m embarrassed, Y/N, I’m irritated, I’m pissed off.”
You nodded and stared at Fred’s chest, your eyes taking in every inch of his beautiful skin and perfect body shape.
“You shouldn’t be, Muggle money isn’t the easiest to work out - and Evan helped out anyway which was really sweet-”
“If you like him that much you should’ve gone home with him instead of me then.” He snapped, pulling his arm out of your hand and walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
You sighed and followed him, hearing the clunk of his belt hitting the floor and the zipper on his trousers being pulled down.
“Fred, I don’t understand why you’re in such a grump, you don’t need to be embarrassed, shit happens-”
“I’ve had to listen to two of my investors catch you up all night, hearing them express how much they want you, want to fuck you and get you pregnant, saying that I’m not good enough for you, how am I supposed to feel!?”
You didn’t answer, you didn’t know how to feel, you didn’t know what to think, Fred stared at you and became even more ticked off, he scoffed and pulled off his trousers, throwing them across the room, missing the laundry basket.
“I see how it is” he spoke out “You loved it, didn’t you? You loved another man treating you with his money that he has more of than he knows what to do with.”
You rolled your eyes “Oh don’t be stupid Fred! I’m not with you for your money, you know that!” you argued, pulling off your high heels and storming over to your wardrobe, placing your shoes inside at the bottom.
Fred ignored you, making you just as pissed off as he was, you could feel the tiny devil sitting down on your shoulder, whispering in your ear, encouraging you to tick Fred off on purpose, the angel on your other shoulder begging you not to do it.
But you did it anyway, and Fred couldn’t hold himself back anymore.
“You know what” you spoke up, your attitude popping out a little bit “you’re right, I should have gone home with him instead of you!”
Fred’s eyes widened, he grits his teeth and storms over towards you in his boxers, grabbing you by the waist, forcing you to look at him. You swallowed hard and looked him in the eyes, instantly regretting what you said, but also feeling your crotch flutter slightly as his hot breath beamed down on you.
“Is that what you want?” he glared “another man fucking you?”
Fred’s hand snaked to your back, his fingers gripping on the zip on the back of your dress, studying your face before he tugged it down.
“I never said that-”
“But you were implying it, weren’t you?”
“Freddie-”
Fred knew what he was going to do to you, and you knew it too, you could feel yourself getting wet at the thought and at Fred’s touch - his cock hardening in his boxers, poking out like the top of a tent.
Your dress dropped to the floor, Fred grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him, as you kicked the dress across from you across the room, his lips smashed against yours, you kissed back passionately, feeling his tongue drag against your lips, you opened your mouth and allowed him to explore you with his tongue.
You reached down and started to caress Fred’s hard cock through his boxers, Fred groaned against your lips and with his free hand, grabbed yours and pushed it under his boxers, encouraging you to wank him off - which made your crotch flutter, even more, your wetness creating a tiny puddle in your knickers.
Taking Fred’s large length in your hand, you pumped his cock gently and softly, the two of you still exploring each other's mouths until Fred became impatient, wanting to feel your lips around his cock already.
He pulled away and looked into your eyes, his full of lust and hunger “get on your knees” he ordered, pulling down his boxers as you gripped the base of his length.
“Go on, suck my cock, love.”
You smirked at him and nodded, licking up and down his shaft teasingly before taking him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock before sucking on it gently, Fred’s moans filling the room, your knickers getting even more soaked.
“Fuck, Y/N, that feels so good.”
You pushed yourself and took more of Fred’s length - almost all of it - into your mouth, the head of his cock sliding down your throat, causing you to gag as his hands held onto your head, holding you in place and trying to push you down, causing you to gag and produce more saliva - you looked up at him with your wide and watery eyes.
“That’s it, choke on my cock that’s sliding down your throat.”
Fred continued to moan out, watching you, staring you down whilst you bobbed your head, sucking on his big cock and pumping it with your hand at the same time, sending your boyfriend close to the edge numerous times before he finally pulled you off him, lifting you from his saliva coated cock by gripping onto your hair with his hand.
You gasped for air, swallowing down the pooled saliva in your mouth, wiping your lips as Fred grabbed you by the waist, kissing you again, tasting himself on your lips as his hand stroked your pussy through your knickers.
“So wet for me, aren’t you?” he smirked, feeling your wetness through the thin fabric, his finger hooking the waistband of your knickers, slowly pulling them down.
“Fred” you breathed “I didn’t mean what I said, you don’t have to prove yourself to me-”
“I don’t care” Fred growled, rubbing your clit with his finger, walking backwards and sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling you with him “sit down and fuck me.”
You climbed on top of Fred, your legs spread, slowly lowering yourself down on his saliva coated cock, helping you sit down as he slid inside of you, his cock piercing into you, his length exploring you deeply, reaching your tummy.
Your legs rested at his sides, you needed a moment to adjust to his size and then you began to slowly buck your hips, riding him, also circling your hips which Fred gripped on to keep you grounded, you gasped out loud and moan feeling his cock brush against your G-Spot.
Your fingers got tangled in Fred’s messy hair, continuing to buck your hips and bounce up and down, your breasts bouncing, you leaned back and moaned out loud, the constant brushing of Fred’s cock against your g-spot was sending you over the edge, getting you closer to orgasm.
“Freddie” you moaned out through panting, your voice high pitched “oh Freddie!”
Fred looked up at you with a smirk on his face, you moaning his name - not Evan’s or Peter’s made him feel really fucking good, he couldn’t get enough of rubbing what he had in other peoples faces - even if he was thinking about it and not fucking you in front of them, or living next door to them and fucking you so hard they had to hear your moans like he wanted, but he could imagine it, and that was the nest best thing.
Fred quickly stood up, holding you so you didn’t fall, your legs now wrapped around him, still inside you, as he turned around and placed you on the bed, your back laying against his soft sheets. Lifting up your legs, Fred placed them over his shoulders, his cock sliding even deeper inside of your, causing your mouth to open and a desperate moan to slip from your lips, Fred biting his lip at the sight of you.
“Oh would you look at that” he laughed lightly “I can see my cock poke through your delicate stomach.”
Looking down you could see the outline of Fred’s length poke through your stomach, you could feel yourself getting excited over him filling you up, your walls tightening around him ever so slightly.
“You’re so deep inside me” you whimpered, watching him start to slam in you, your moans becoming more frequent and louder.
Fred held onto your waist, his eyes bouncing across your body, focusing on your eyes, your lips, your rising and falling chest, your bulging tummy, your clit, your breasts, the sight of him fucking you - he didn’t know which detail to focus on because the whole picture was perfect.
Slamming into your wet pussy deeper and faster, the slamming filling the room with your moans and his groans, you lolled your head back and moaned out, gripping your breasts with one hand, spitting in the other so you could play with your clit, lifting your head back up and locking eye contact with Fred.
Your fingers stroking your clit, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm, feeling Fred’s cock twitch inside of you.
“Be careful” he warned you, fucking you faster “you know how bad I want to knock you up.”
Those very words were enough for you when combined with the fast, deep, and hard thrusting.
Your cum flowed down his length, your insides starting to feel raw and sore from his cock pounding inside of you, you were feeling ravaged… and you were loving it.
“Maybe you should” you teased through more panting, causing Fred to twitch again, your legs couldn’t keep still upon his shoulders, your orgasm expanding and spreading throughout your body “that way you’ll be tied to me forever.”
Fred could feel himself getting closer to the end of the race “Tied to you...” he breathed “fuck!”
As much as he wanted to plant his seed inside of you, he knew he couldn’t, not yet - he needed to put a ring on your finger first, so instead of cumming deep inside your pussy, he reached for the next best thing.
“I’m going to cum!” he panted, quickly pulling out, his hard, red, juice coated, twitching cock gripped in his hand.
You lifted your legs off his shoulders and bent them, propping yourself up on the bed, laying on your tummy, your elbows lifting you up so you could welcome Fred’s length back into your mouth, tasting your own juices.
Your lips wrapped around his cock, you sucked as you did before, bobbing your head up and down with your hand gliding up and down in sync with the rhythm, Fred watched you eagerly and couldn’t hold back.
You pushed his cock deeper in your mouth, so close to swallowing him whole as his head hit the back of your throat.
“Fuck, Y/N, I’m - I’m cumming!”
His warm sperm shot inside of your mouth, you swallowed it down, feeling it travel down your throat, filling you up.
Fred slowly pulled his cock out of your mouth, he stumbled backwards, slightly dizzy and then sat down on the bed slowly, swinging his legs over so he could lie down comfortably in bliss, embracing his orgasm.
You wiped your lips and climbed into Fred’s arms, the two of you lying in silence, catching your breaths and cooling down.
“I’m tied to you, Fred.” you muttered “always have been, always will be, I only want you,” you reassured him.
Fred wrapped his arm around you “I’m tied to you too, my love” he muttered softly, kissing your head.
Tags: @amourtentiaa @xmalfoyweasleyx @horrorxweasley @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @freddiemylovelg @sebby-staan @inglourious-imagines @onlyfreds @lucymfer @pandaxnienke
#fred weasley#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley x you#fred weasley imagine#george weasley#george wealsey x reader#george wealsey imagine#george weasley fanfiction#George Weasley one shot#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#Harry Potter fanfic#the golden trio#the marauders#Weasley#bill weasley#bill weasley x reader#ron weasley#weasley twins
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Rebound
Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader 18+
NSFW, IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT
Warning: mentions of breakup, cunnilingus, 1 photo taken (nature of which is slightly nonconsensual), aftercare
A/N: So, uhh, these past few months have been wack in regards to my love life. I went from breaking off an almost 2-year long distance relationship, to proclaiming that I’m gonna have a hoe phase on Tinder, to actually meeting a guy who I actually like (who knew I would have a successful Tinder relationship?!?!)…….. soooooooo
ALSO-- this is my first (serious) smut I've ever written. Please be kind.
ALSO ALSO-- if this gets enough love, I might make this concept into a full-blown fic
You did everything right. You made time for him. You gave him gifts. You sent him both a good morning and a goodnight text every day. You fulfilled his needs, even when it didn't necessarily benefit you.
Or so you thought.
If you didn't answer that butt-dial from him and heard the pants and moans coming from his end, you would have lived happily in ignorant bliss. If you didn't go to check on him to see if he was ok, you wouldn't be in the predicament you found yourself in currently.
Now you find yourself, wrapped in blankets, crying on his neighbor's couch.
Your boyfriend would always complain about his next door neighbor Tetsurou Kuroo, how he would be the reason your boyfriend got in trouble with loud music and smoking with the landlord. However, despite your boyfriend's hatred of him, you grew close to the rooster head, becoming proper friends and not the girl who apologizes after every night she gets a little loud. He didn't approve of this friendship, but there wasn't much he could do about it.
Now that he's your ex, there is absolutely nothing he could do about it.
"So you walked in and saw him banging his coworker?" Tetsurou asked, placing a glass of cold water into your hand. Your body shook as you lifted the glass up to your lips to take a sip. You then set the glass down on the side table.
"Yes, and it was the one he told me not to worry about." you stuttered. You didn't care much for that coworker. She always seemed to weasel her way into your relationship. Date nights were cut short by her calling your [now ex] boyfriend to help her with a problem. He always seemed to be texting or calling her, and when you would ask why, he would just say 'work' and close his phone so you couldn't see. You would express your concern, but he would assure you that he only had eyes for you.
What bullshit.
Your wails of agony have since subsided to small sniffles. Your breathing was still rapid and without control, but for the most part you were calming down.
Then your phone went off, sounding a text tone that you had specifically saved for your now ex boyfriend.
As you reach for your phone, Tetsurou grabs a hold of it.
"Gimmie that," you whine.
"Password," Tetsurou demands.
"W-what? I'm not just gonna give-"
"Password!" Tetsurou demands even louder. Sighing, you tell him your password and he unlocks your phone. He reads over the text your ex sent you, talking about how you didn't know the whole story and scoffs. He taps on your phone a bit and gently tosses it on the couch cushion next to you as she sits himself down.
"Blocked him for you. He was going on about how you don't know the whole story and that this was the first and only time he messed up. Newsflash, I'm his neighbor, and the girl he has been with the last few weeks definitely wasn't you."
"Oh," you sniffle. So your suspicions were correct. This had been going on for quite a bit. "If you knew, why didn't you tell me earlier?" you asked Tetsurou.
"Well, honestly, I just put the pieces together this morning," Tetsurou replies. The walls are thin, so he could hear every gasp and moan that happened on the other side. He figured it was you, since you were his girlfriend after all. He would just turn on a show and watch it to tune out the love making on the other side of the wall. However, when he didn't receive the usual sorry note under the door that you would write, he knew something was up. The amount of times he would have to turn on his show wasn't going down, but the amount of the little notes he received was.
"You know, I don't think he ever loved me," you say, turning away from Tetsurou. "I honestly think he only liked the idea of me." The waterworks started to flow again.
"I tried so hard, you know? I know he didn't treat me the best, but I stuck with it because I thought he truly loved me," you sob into your hands. You smash your palms into your eyes as you cry out, as if you are trying to stop the tears coming out of your eyes. But they don't stop. If anything, they start to flow out faster.
"What did I do wrong?"
As soon as that question escaped your lips, Tetsurou pulled you into his lap and pressed you head against his chest. You cried even harder, balling his tear-soaked t-shirt in your clenched fists. He ran his nails across your scalp, lightly scratching it in an attempt to calm you down. Usually you would tell him to stop so as to not mess up your hair, but hair was the last thing on your mind at the moment. His other hand was rubbing your back, grounding you from the emotions racking your body at the moment.
"You did nothing wrong," he whispered over and over again in your ear, repeating until you calmed back down. He reached across from you and grabbed the glass of cold water and placed you off of his lap.
"Please drink up, I think you cried half of your water weight in the past 30 minutes alone," he joked, earning a small giggle from you. "I hate to leave you alone, but I'm going to change real fast and get you some bubble tea from that place down the street you like. Sound like a plan?" He asked, earning a nod from you.
With that, he stood up and left to go change and get some tea. You sat back on the couch and watched the door close shut. Now you were alone.
You had been in his apartment a couple times before, but now you were truly looking around at his décor. He didn't have much hanging on his walls, but he had a few pictures here and there. One was of his old volleyball team from high school. He stood in the middle with his red number 1 jersey sticking out for all to see that he was the captain.
Another picture he had on the wall was a picture of a small girl in his arms. After recalling a couple of conversations the two of you had, you remembered that he did have an older sister who had a daughter of her own. His niece.
Her short black hair was sticking up into two little pigtails, each decorated with a small pink bow. Her fluffy pink dress contrasted beautifully with the black dress shirt Tetsurou was wearing. Both of their smiles reached their ears.
He looked pretty good.
You sit there thinking, realizing only now that Tetsurou, the 'nasty neighbor' of your ex boyfriend, your friend, was pretty attractive. How come he didn't have a girlfriend of his own? Did he maybe swing the other way? You shook that thought out of your head when you remembered the stories he would tell of his high school sweetheart.
What happened to her?
While you're lost in thought, you don't hear the front door opening up.
"Here!" Tetsurou shouts, scaring the living daylights out of you. In one hand he's holding two cups of tea with the little tapioca balls at the bottom, and in the other are two straws. You sigh in relief as he sits down next to you, handing you your tea and straw.
"Tetsurou, what ever happened to that girl you dated in high school?" you ask as you stab the straw through the plastic.
"Oh, Alisa? It wasn't too brutal. Our futures were going in different directions and we just fell out of love," he shrugged as you sipped some tea and a few balls of tapioca.
The silence is deafening. Every time you glance at him, you shutter. 'How did I not see how hot he is earlier?' you scold to yourself.
The longer you look at him, the more you get worked up. Your eyes travel downwards to his neck. His Adams apple is sticking out, not too much, but just the perfect amount. They continue downward to his arms, which are framed beautifully by the cotton t-shirt he's wearing. His veins twist across his muscular arm and down to his hands.
Oh god his hands! The roughness of the veins popping out contrast with the smooth, even coloring of his skin. light callouses dot his palms, but for the most part, his hands are soft. perfect for caressing-
Not paying attention, you start to choke on a tapioca pearl. Coughing and wheezing, and with a little help from Tetsurou, you get it out of your windpipe. You pull the straw a little higher to avoid any more tapioca at the moment to catch your breath.
"You alright?" Tetsurou asks, and you nod a little too frantically. He squints his eyes and stares at you for a little bit, seeking confirmation that you're actually ok and not lying to him. Pursing your lips together in a sort-of smile, he takes that as the confirmation he needs and moves back to his drink.
The way he sips on the straw, how his soft, supple lips form around the straw and suck. The way the tea he's drinking dribbles down his chin just a little bit. The way he moves his thumb over his chin to wipe it up.
It shouldn't be getting you this worked up.
"So, is there anything you want to do now?" Tetsurou asked, reaching for the remote as if to imply that they should watch something on the TV. The way his arm flexes as he reaches across you.
You can't take it anymore.
"I want you to fuck me!" you blurt. As soon as the words left your lips, your hands shot up to cover your mouth.
Now it is his turn to choke on his tea. He drops the remote and it breaks apart on the wooden floor. Your hands migrate from your mouth to cover your face. This has to be the most embarrassing moment in your life.
"W-what?" Tetsurou asked, finally catching his breath. You keep your hands on your face, as if they are glued in place. The last thing you want is to look at him, much less in the eye.
"Ju-just ignore what I said! It's not important!" you frantically wave your hands around, hoping maybe they can help you fly away from the current situation.
Alas, you are merely human, and must suffer through the consequences of your actions.
Frantically, you shoot up from your seat, mumbling a string of farewells as you walk toward the door. However, you do not make it far, as you find your hand encapsulated in Tetsurou's as he yanks you back onto your spot on the couch.
"You can't just leave after saying something like that," Tetsurou mumbles. His ears are burning bright red while his cheeks are dusting a soft pink.
"Don't worry about it, I'll just download tinder and relive my frustrations there," you stutter, trying to stand up. However, under Tetsurou's grip and stare, your attempts are rendered futile. Fully realizing the situation, you sigh and throw your head back against the back of the couch.
"Fine," you mumble, blushing, "sorry for making you uncomfortable, I definitely did not mean to say that out loud."
Silence.
Unsure of what to do, you start to explain yourself.
"I'm just so frustrated, and I just wanted to... you know... get him back, like an eye for an eye type of deal," yo ramble on.
Tetsurou dropped his head into the palms of his hands, nodding his head left and right.
"And while you were gone, I kinda realized how attractive you were and i-"
"I never said I wouldn't, did I?" Tetsurou asked, not lifting his face out of his hands.
With that statement, the air is sucked out of your lungs. Your heart beats faster in your chest, while simultaneously wrapping itself tight within your body.
"No, uh, you don't have t-"
""Honestly, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to... for a while now," Tetsurou admitted, "So I'll do it, my only rule being that we won't go all the way today."
You press your fists into your plush thighs. "Why not? You literally just admitted that you were attracted to me," you ask.
"Because I don't want to give myself false hope."
"Why would fucking give y-" you tried to ask before Tetsurou interrupted your interruption.
"You just broke up with your long time boyfriend, a messy break-up I may add. Your emotions are all over the place. I really like you, (y/n), I just don't want to be your rebound. I want to be with you because you truly like me, not to get back at your shitty ex next door." He let out, like a breath held underwater.
"Oh," you whisper. He made a great point. What were your intentions right now? Was this all a ploy to get revenge on your ex? Did you actually like Tetsurou that way?
Did it really matter?
"So what?" you ask, stunning Tetsurou into silence.
Tetsurou swallows the lump in his throat and asks you to clarify.
"Well, there is a mutual attraction, and we both clearly want this, why don't we just go for it and see what happens?" you ask.
The pause is long and silent. Tetsurou’s eyes were looking everywhere but at you. Did he actually want this? Yes, but in this way? He took a glance in your direction and saw you still staring down at your tea, swiveling the ice around in circles.
You were definitely a sight for sore eyes in Tetsurou’s ever so humble opinion. The way your face was tinted the slightest red color made his heart melt. He would never forgive his neighbor for what he did to you, making your larger than life personality look small and meek.
Overwhelmed with feelings of both attraction and adoration, he simply couldn’t help himself. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this, but after all this time of him secretly crushing on her from a distance, he just couldn’t hold out anymore.
He grabbed your face and turned it toward him, crashing his lips onto yours.
The kiss became more feverish as the seconds passed. A simple peck turned into moments of locking lips, trying to taste each other.
His lips were thin, however soft, with the slight sting of mint chapstick tingling your tongue. You decided to take initiative and slipped your tongue out to taste his bottom lip. He took the signal and included his tongue in the dance, the two muscles stroking together as he grasped the hair on the back of your head and pulled you closer.
As the make-out session continued, the two of you started to position yourselves on the couch; you lying against the armrest and him balancing himself on top of you. Once in this position, his hands started to wander across your body.
Every curve of yours was not left without attention. His hands traveled from behind your head to your chest, from your chest to down your stomach, from your stomach to your thighs, and finally spread your thighs apart to gain access to your covered core, where you wanted to feel his hands the most.
His kisses started trailing south to the crook of your neck, moving from kissing to sucking as he started to rub your clothed slit. An airy gasp escaped your lips, enjoying all the sensations you were feeling at the moment. Once he was satisfied by the purple bruise left just above your collarbone, he started to sit up, causing you to whine from the loss of contact.
Your whining soon stopped however when you noticed him grabbing at your shorts, working to pull them down. As he started to pull down, your breath got caught in your throat, causing it to be held in. Flinging your shorts and panties behind him, he gently kissed your thigh and asked, “Do you still want this, you seem a little tense?”
“Yes!” you gasp a little too fast. His breath was so warm against your wet pussy, teasing you to the point of no return.
“Ok, you have to let me know if you get too overwhelmed or want to stop at any point,” he says before diving down. You are about to acknowledge him until a heavy gasp escapes your lips before you can give your confirmation.
Tetsurou didn’t hesitate going down on you. He simply couldn’t wait any longer. Simply pumping his fist wasn’t doing it for him anymore.
He started to kiss, flick, and suck at your clit, making you breathe harder with the rising pleasure. His movements were soft and light, but they were shaking your very core. He grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders, giving him more access.
His movement was simple, something you could easily replicate with your fingers and maybe a quality toy, but that didn’t change how it was working on you. Your heavy breaths turned into soft whimpers as the pleasure began to bubble up.
You were progressing nicely, but Kuroo didn’t think it was progressing fast enough. To remedy his frustrations, he rubbed his fingers against your wetness, slicking it up to start thrusting into you.
The anticipation of his fingers slipping into you made your whimpers louder. He switched up his mouth to sucking your clit between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue and slowly inserted a finger. He pressed the pad of his finger against the ceiling and started to thrust in and out, rubbing against the entirety of your g-spot softly.
This new sensation had you bucking your hips and bubbling over with pleasure, pretty much ripping the orgasm out of you. Tetsurou smiled as you rode out your orgasm, moaning and whimpering small vowel sounds.
The orgasm was nice, but Tetsurou knows you can be louder, he's definitely heard you get louder at least.
Before you can fully recover from your high, his lips reattach to your clit and insert two fingers into you. The moan that escaped your lips was loud and almost pornographic. He smirked, knowing your shit ex next store most likely heard it.
Although, he knew that the fun this round was only just beginning.
Instead of thrusting his fingers in and out, he started to press his fingers up against you, as if he was motioning for you to come here.
The new motion of his fingers mixed with his lips sucking and tongue flicking at your clit was causing you to sprint to the edge way too fast. You couldn’t hold back your moans by control alone, so you bit the back of your hand in an attempt to suppress the noise.
Tetsurou was having none of that today. Using his other hand, he rips your arm away from you, silently implying that he wants to hear how loud you were being.
You try to ground yourself by grasping the armrest behind you, although that doesn’t do much to stop yourself from the orgasm that's rising far too quickly.
Your moans are getting louder and louder as you get closer and closer. Tetsurou has you teetering on the edge as his movement gets faster and faster. Soon your coil snaps and you find yourself cumming harder than you ever have before.
You thrash your head side to side as your hips buck up toward his fingers. He removes his lips and fingers and starts to quickly rub his fingers back and forth on your clit as you ride out your orgasm, extending the peak longer than what you're used to.
As you start to once again come down from your high, you hear soft chuckling coming from Tetsurou. You look up to find his shirt soaking wet.
“Di-did i-i do that?” You ask, afraid of the answer.
“If you’re referring to the squirting, yes, you just did. Hard,” Kuroo smirks, causing your already flushed face to burst even more red in embarrassment. Instinctively, you hide your face behind your hands, as if you could magically disappear if you couldn’t see him.
“Pretty hot,” he mutters to himself before beginning to suckle on your inner thigh, allowing you to completely come down before going back at it. Beyond your blissful sighs, Tetsurou heard your phone buzzing in the background.
Blocked Number.
An evil smirk came to his face as a sinister idea popped into his mind. While you were blissfully unaware of your phone buzzing, Tetsurou opened your phone and unblocked your ex, just to see if he was reacting to the pretty sounds you were making.
And reacted, he did.
Countless messages flooded your phone after Tetsurou unblocked his number, with messages ranging from ‘come back, let’s talk baby,’ to ‘you better not be with Kuroo right now.’ The final message read, “I know that’s you at Kuroo’s apartment, you fucking bitch.”
“Tetsurou, what are you doing?” you ask, finally in grip with reality.
“Just giving your ex a bit of a show,” he replied, diving right back in.
Breathlessly, you grasp his bed head, trying to get a grip on your once again slipping reality. In the heat of the moment, he pushed your thighs down to each side, revealing your flushed pussy. While flicking his tongue on your clit once again, he snapped a selfie. In the frame was his face, smirking with his tongue out flicking your clit. To make the picture even better, your manicured hands were in view, gripping his hair in pleasure.
Perfect for a porn twitter account.
Tetsurou typed out ‘your loss, pal,’ and sent the text, blocked your ex’s number once again, and tossed your phone to the side, getting back to work, soon bringing you to your third and final orgasm.
After cleaning you up and bringing you a glass of water, Tetsurou snuggled up to you under a cozy blanket. As your endorphins went down, the pure dread of what your ex did came back.
“What’s wrong, (Y/N), do you regret what we did?” Tetsurou asked, the expression of pure concern expressed on his face.
“No, I’m just angry about this whole thing! Three years gone!” you shutter, trying to hold back tears. Tetsurou held you tighter.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered, brushing your hair out of your face.
For the next ten minutes, you were crying into his chest as he rubbed you back and whispered soothing words.
As you calm down and sip your water, Tetsurou breaks the silence saying, “We need to talk about what just happened and what we are.”
You don’t reply, instead, you stare off to the side past Tetsurou’s shoulder.
“I kinda like you, but I’m not sure,” you meekly reply.
“Understandable. I want you to sleep on the idea of us. After you think of it, I want you to call me. Then we can get dinner.”
Space is what she needs, and space is what Tetsurou is willing to give her.
“Sounds great, but can I stay a little longer?” you ask, nuzzling seemingly closer into his warmth.
“Stay as long as you need, sweetie.”
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x reader#y/n#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsurō#tetsurou kuroo smut#kuroo x you#kuroo x reader smut#smut#lemon#do people still use lemon?#oh well im using it#cheating
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SU Music Rankings
Bc I can and I wanna start some Disk Horse rip. These are all in order of preference, with explanations, etc. It’s a long bitch. That said, I’m not counting little short jingles or small joke songs like Little Butler. This is the meat and potatoes of SU music- just under 30 songs. I might do the rest if people like my takes lol.
I scored it mostly on three bases- how dear it was to my heart, how much/often I relisten to it, and also what it means to the plot. That said, little fun songs don’t automatically go farther down than big, plot-heavy songs either! It’s a strange little balance.
Special Note: I don’t dislike any of this music! I love SU and that includes its bumps and glitches. I just pick favorite children lol.
1.) Change
Was there ever a more Steven moment than when he wiped the blood off his face and kissed it into sparkles? I think not.
If “Be Wherever You Are” is an ode to young Steven, then this is teen Steven’s. Talking about change, and how much and how little it can do. How he holds his arms up for Spinel to hug him, so trusting. How he seems able to just. Break into soft tears at will, and not to be manipulative- it’s just his kind nature. The warmth in his voice. Fuck yesssss.
2.) Change Your Mind
This song is only fifty five seconds and it’s EVERYTHING to me. It really felt like someone was speaking the words I’d always held deep inside of me, unsure of how to say. It feels like a goodbye to someone who never really loved me.
As much as I enjoyed Future, if this was the finale of SU, I would’ve been perfectly okay with that.
3.) Drift Away
This song gave me legitimate shivers the first time I heard it, and it still haunts me to this day. Spinel stayed, and waited, and all she got was a transmission thousands of years later. Fuck.
4.) Here We Are In The Future
THE MOVIE IS SU AS ITS BEST AND I WON’T BE SWAYED ON IT. Steven being a teen who loves his weird family but is growing just a bit sarcastic to their drama. The adorable love he and Connie share. His slow realization that he will always be working, always have things to do, is both somber and real. The Crystal Gems won’t be safe with one epic battle. They’ll be safe with years of hard work and love. HIS LITTLE HANDSHAKE WITH AMETHYST.
This is a helluva bop and a great way to summarize the main character’s backstories.
5.) Let’s Only Think About Love
Did ya’ll know that Zach Callison killed his throat with that last note? He gave his all for this performance in a vocal range he no longer comfortably do and by god did it SHINE. The FLAIR. The FORESHADOWING. All of the Gems all being awkward about Rose and Steven trying to bring them to the present. Peridot having a mini-existential crisis in a cute yellow dress. I love Zach Callison’s normal singing voice but man is that a fucking bop. Nothing will ever beat it.
6.) Here Comes A Thought
This bad boy helped me out a LOT with some mental issues I was dealing with in high school. I was unmedicated, unsupervised, and full of anxiety. I’d have break downs when I tried to speak about certain things. I couldn’t function. This song inspired me. It helped me feel okay with my intrusive thoughts.
And the episode! -chef’s kiss-. Once again bringing up the morally gray area of training child soldiers. Connie expanding her social group. Steven’s trauma hauling ass in that second half. The ANIMATION. Stevonnie’s gorgeous singing voice. GOD yes.
7.) It’s Over Isn’t It?
Just barely squeaking above Stronger Than You, this ballad is everything gorgeous. The whole episode is. I think Mr. Greg stands in the top five of my episodes for the entire show. It even got nominated!
There’s just so much about this song that I love. The gentle melancholy of Pearl’s voice. How the crew had to redo the shots for this bit bc Deedee went so fucking hard. The hard cuts between Pearl, remembering the love of her life, and Steven, who has begun to feel like he took her away. I’d recommend this song to anyone, regardless of what they do or don’t know about SU, simply bc it tugs so many heartstrings of love, loss, and responsibility.
8.) Stronger Than You
Did you realize this episode aired SEVEN years ago? This bitch was what got me into SU! Hearing about Ruby and Sapphire made my little gay heart so happy inside, and then getting a whole song confirming that they were a couple, that their love powered the strongest Gem on the team? Aaaaaaaaa
To this DAY I get excited when I hear Estelle start singing. This song is timeless. This song will live in media history. God I fucking love this song.
9.) Other Friends
I’m not the biggest musical person, so I hadn’t heard of Sarah Stiles before her casting as Spinel, but JESUS CHRIST the lady went hard. She went SO fucking hard. Sarah Stiles started on 100 and somehow just kept CLIMBING. You can just hear the sheer manic energy building in her voice, the anger and resentment. 10/10 Sarah Stiles is a queen.
10.) Independent Together
This made the list entirely bc the crew was like “you’re gonna get a himbo ass Steven-Greg fusion singing with Opal while Garnet flies across the moon on Lion while floating” and I am forever thankful to them for it
11.) Who We Are
Bismuth deserved more songs. ‘Nuff said.
12.) Peace and Love (On the Planet Earth)
It Could’ve been Great is EASILY one of my favorite s2 episodes. I love the entire concept of this song. Of Steven making music to reflect how much Earth means to him and his family. Of him teaching Peridot some self-care. Also Peridot’s singing voice is really cute and squeaky.
I know it’s silly, but I would’ve really enjoyed a flip around of this in Future! Like Peridot reminding Steven how much he loves music, that he needs to take time to relax for himself, maybe with a new verse or just a remix of the original song!
13.) Something Entirely New
I watched this episode as it aired, and I legitimately almost cried. I love Charlyne Yi’s voice so much ya’ll- her raspy, not perfect singing voice against Sapphire’s deep soothing lull is great.
And to have Ruby and Sapphire’s meeting be the way it was- for Ruby to bemoan Sapphire losing Homeworld, to being stuck with a single Ruby, while Sapphire is a noble who has always been taught everyone in her “caste” is vitally important (and has, in her own mind, taken that to mean every Gem, as she should) and how they come together and make each other happy. Good shit good shit.
14.) I’m Just a Comet
The fact that Greg’s music career never really blasted off pisses me off to this day bc Tom Scharpling’s voice is fucking BUTTER. Also the song really feels like a jab at his parents now that we know the kind of dynamic he had growing up. “This life in the stars if all I’ve ever known” is definitely him wiping away their existence after reminding them (and himself) the things they used to say about him.
15.) Do It For Her
This episode. This fucking episode. This episode got me permanently hooked on SU. I’d just binged season 1 and was kinda meh about it overall after the bop of Stronger Than You. “Oh,” I thought to myself, foolishly, “I’ll probably just casually watch this from time to time.”
Like three days later Sworn to the Sword aired and that was it. I was hooked! Pearl’s gentle training song turning darker and darker, Connie’s accompaniment from nervous to determined to fully into such a toxic mindset. The fact that SU had the BALLS to discuss the repercussions of training child soldiers, now and later. This episode was everything to me, STILL is everything to me.
Six years and well over 100 fanfics written later, I think it’s safe to say this show swallowed me whole and never let go.
16.) System/Boot.pearl_final(3)
I debated putting this on the list because it’s not anything crazy important, just a way to show things are Wrong, but I had to do it entirely bc Pearl is so damn SALTY.
Like telling us about the Gems makes sense, she felt like she was given a duty, but she went so damn petty. WHY is that Ruby alone. Gross. This Amethyst is a trash dump. Wtf are you people.
17.) Full Disclosure
This episode really feels like a turning point for SU. Before, the show had its dark moments- but now we’re in the thick of it, and it’s not going away. Full Disclosure felt like an rebuff to the idea of returning to any normal we’d established in season 1. Gems are actually a giant species now. Gems tried to kill us now. There’s this Yellow Diamond bitch who got namedropped. Something about a Cluster.
The song itself is BALLER, with its ingenious use of Steven’s ringtone and photos as he tries to decide whether to clue in Connie on all this nonsense. Meanwhile we, the audience, already know damn well Connie about to yeet some common sense into him.
18.) What’s the Use of Feeling Blue?
I’mma admit it- I’m a Yellow Diamond stan. I’ve always loved her- her anger, her poise, her hardworking nature. I actively argued against the “Yellow Shattered Pink” theories back in the day. But, man, when this arc leaked? I got so overexcited I was too jittery to watch it for like two days. It’s easily my favorite arc of the series. The sheer alien nature of the zoo, the Famethyst, and absolutely Patti Lupone’s beautiful ballad. Goddamn. Yellow singing to Blue to try and help her regain her old status, the warble in her voice as she reminds Blue she misses Pink too, the movement of the bubbles as she talks about attack. It gives me shivers to this day. FUCK.
19.) Tower of Mistakes
This is, fun fact, that only SU song I have completely memorized. The story itself is kinda funny! See, we lost internet at my house for a solid 5 to 6 months when these episodes aired, so I only got a very brief window to view them all. But this was the first Amethyst song in a long while, and I didn’t want to forget it! So I keep replaying it in my head for ages. And that’s still definitely a thing.
Anyway will never not be sad that this entire song was about making it up to Garnet for Amethyst’s perceived slights with Sugilite (which was a two-way road), only for Garnet to pressure her into fusion later when pissed and never discuss it again bc Garnet probably never thought twice about it and Amethyst has the emotional openness of a clam that’s just been told its ugly. Helluva way to make someone feel like shit, G. Helluva way to bottle that shit, Ames.
20.) On the Run
I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Amethyst! Needed! More! Songs!
The dichotomy between Steven’s play and Amethyst’s honest desire to run away from home is so well-done, especially when you consider a lot of Steven and Amethyst’s actions are playing together. The song is also near and dear to me simply bc it’s my favorite Amethyst episode to exist (well, maybe second to What’s Your Problem, but not by much). Moments like these are all the proof I need that they were right to fuse first.
21.) Be Wherever You Are
This tune really just feels like an ode to who Steven was as a kid. Trapped on an island with no way home, and he’s just happy to be with his friends. The stars are beautiful and not oppressive. Also that one animatic with Lars and the Off Colors playing in the Homeworld Kindergarten to this music was iconic and made this song get stuck in my head for a solid month.
22.) Familiar
I ADORE how the crew use bright neon colors to show how alien Homeworld can be. And Steven recognizing that the Diamonds treat him how the CGs used to, and how prepared he is to “fix” a broken family. It’s a soft, gentle tune about melancholy. Also the Pebbles are beautiful.
23.) Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart
Such a cute little love ballad, but every time I listen to it now I just imagine the heart attack Rose must’ve had at the line “And if we look out of place/Well, baby, that's okay/I'll drive us into outer space.” like there’s a Vietnam war flashback if I ever heard one
24.) What Can I Do?
I’m kind of neutral on this one? Rose and Greg both have great voices, but the song itself lacks many lyrics. I think it was definitely a good way to show Rose’s flaws in thinking.
Also, I’m shocked they managed cram that much vaguely sexual innuendo into two minutes, followed by how Not Hetereo that dance between Rose and Pearl was, and not get their asses chewed by it. You go guys.
25.) Cookie Cat
I love a lot of the vibes this song has. The lyrics are so damn prophetic, but they also sound like the kind of weird 90s commercials I grew up on. It’s been like two decades since I saw the Shirley Temple commercial but I’ll be damned if I don’t remember “Animals crackers in my soup! Monkey and rabbits loop-de-loop.”
26.) Giant Woman
I am. NOT the biggest fan of Steven’s original singing voice. I feel bad saying that, since it was just Zach Callison as a kid, but he never jived well with me for some reason. So I wouldn’t listen to this on the fly.
The song itself is still really good though, with all sorts of fun animation of Amethyst and Pearl being bitchy to each other. It’s a bit sad in hindsight to see tiny Steven trying to get his moms to get along. Ahh, season 1.
27.) Strong in the Real Way
This song has SUCH a strong start. Pearl reflecting on Sugilite’s problems, but the show making sure to show us that Pearl’s lack of enthusiasm towards her also lends itself to jealousy as well as just general malaise. How much she cares about Steven, and wants him to grow up strong.
And then Steven just kinda. Ruins it? I appreciate his enthusiasm for tryna bulk up but to take what was starting as such a rich, personal song and broadcasting it to random strangers just makes me a bit sad. Almost a bit angry on her behalf?
28.) That Distant Shore
I KNOW this is gonna create some discourse, but I’m just not the biggest Lapis stan. I love her voice. I love the visuals of the song. And I get why she felt afraid and needed to flee.
But Lapis never got to take responsibility for her own actions. And, in the end, the song feels hollow to me- because we all know she’ll never talk to anyone about it, know she’ll burst back in and destroy the barn, and no one will ever question it. I like Lapis a lot, but I feel like her arc never was fully finished. She never got help. She never learned to feel safe.
29.) Dear Old Dad
I’ve yet to meet a single human being who likes this episode tbh. There’s some great discussion about what kind of parent Greg is from it, and what kind of dynamic he has with the Gems that he felt he had to fake an injury to hang out with his son. Honestly the first half was fine and dandy. It’s just that then they Greg just went out of his way to drag Steven away from missions and such. It never jived well with his character before or after.
Also, is it just me, or does Zach himself sound like he hates the song as he sings it? There’s no passion or heart in his voice. It sounds like they told him to read off cue cards and he did. Tom Scharpling’s best attempts didn’t save this one for being a skipper. But the episode, unfortunately, isn’t, so it gets a spot on here.
#Steven Universe#Steven Universe Future#SU Analysis#(I guess????)#Music#Steven Quartz Universe#Amethyst#Garnet#Pearl#Yellow Diamond#Blue Diamond#Blue Pearl#Yellow Pearl#Greg Universe#Bismuth#Spinel#Lapis Lazuli#Steg#Opal#Rose Quartz#Lars Barriga#Sadie Miller#Sapphire#Ruby#Stevonnie#Falc talks
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The Request
Rafael Barba x f!reader. CW: somnophilia/sleeping beauty syndrome; CNC (con-non-con); pregnancy; lactation; language; smut. I think that covers it all. ⚠️READ AT YOUR OWN RISK ⛔️
WC: 1.3K
Dedicated to the anon who said my writing sucks and that I was ruining Barba.
**
“Cariño, I don’t know about this.”
You look at your husband, your eyes exhausted and weary. “Rafael, I am forty one weeks pregnant. It is 100° degrees out. I have never been so uncomfortable in my life.”
“If the baby doesn’t come by the weekend, you’ll be induced.” Rafael replied matter-of-factly.
“I don’t want to be induced. That’s not part of the plan.” You sighed irritated as you sat back onto the couch. You raised your swollen feet onto the ottoman.
“And this is?” Rafael asked as he tied his tie.
“It's recommended by the doctor!” You exclaim. “I drank the tea, I ate the spicy food. None of it works, except sex.”
“We haven’t been able to have comfortable sex in the last month or so. I don’t want to hurt you. Or the baby.” Rafael gently explained as he sat next to you and took your hand in his.
You gave him a small smile. “I know that. And you wouldn’t. This is why I want to do this. I trust you. Totally and completely.”
Rafael grimaced. “It’s just in my work…”
You tilted your head. “Amor, I am giving you my very eager and enthusiastic consent. Please fuck me so this baby can come out. It’ll be a good way to book end the pregnancy. Ending how it started.”
Rafael looked at you. You could see the wheels turning in his head. “Let me think about it.”
You clasped your hands together and let out a squeal. “That’s all I ask.”
**
Rafael couldn’t focus at all at work. All day he was off game - he was glad he didn’t have any court appearances. All he could think about was your proposition: to fuck you in hopes that it’ll kick start labor. But it wasn’t just about the fucking. It was to do it while you slept. You figured you’d be more comfortable and relaxed. It was something you had read on one of those ‘moms to be’ boards and the idea had wormed its way into your mind. You were relentless in your pestering.
Rafael rubbed his face and took out his cellphone. He texted you quickly.
[Are you sure you want to do this?]
Three dots appeared and then your reply came through.
[Absolutely]
Rafael took a deep breath before replying back.
[Okay]
**
You wanted to do it organically. Not on a planned evening. You knew if it was planned, you’d be too eager and excited to fall asleep. It was up to Rafael to decide and initiate. He did his research one late evening while you slept soundly beside him.
You had gone to bed even earlier that night, having complained of generally feeling uncomfortable and fatigued. By the time Rafael made it to bed, you were sound asleep. He tried to give you a little shake to see if you would awaken, but instead you just nuzzled into your pillow more. Unlike him, you were a heavy sleeper.
Rafael stripped his clothes, clad just in boxers. He piled them neatly on a chair before climbing into bed. He let out a shiver at the cold air. Even the bed sheets felt cold against his skin. As it had been so hot as of late, you’d been running the air conditioning basically 24-7. He left a table side lamp on. Through the dimmed light, he braved himself to touch your back. You wore one of his worn Harvard shirts. The material was soft and familiar. He garnered more confidence and slipped his hand under, feeling the smooth silk of your skin and then moving it to the front. Rafael used his other hand to free his cock from his boxers. He began to stroke himself, working his fist over his cock. Rafael thought for sure you’d stir when he began to roll and pinch your nipples. Instead you just let out the softest moan.
His cock now hard, Rafael scooted closer to you and began to rut against your ass. His hands began to massage your breasts more fervently before moving down to your thighs. You sighed in your sleep as he massaged your flesh. His hand made its way to the soft nestle of curls, finding your clit. He began to rub in gentle circles, relishing in how wet you were becoming in reaction. His fingers slid through your folds, spreading the wetness that grew. Finding himself now really into this, he grabbed your leg and hoisted it over his hip. Rafael pressed kisses along the nape of your neck and shoulder as he continued to play with your pussy. He reveled in how soft and wet it was becoming, your arousal beginning to drip. His cock was aching, red and needy for you. Pearls of pre-cum dribbled from the head of his cock.
Shifting his hips, Rafael slowly pushed his thick cock into your hot cunt, biting his bottom lip as he bottomed out in a gentle yet firm push. His hands moved back up to your tits, squeezing hard enough that droplets of milk began to leak. He continued messily playing with your breasts as he began to thrust into you. He kept his thrusts gentle and steady, enjoying the way your pussy tightened around him, gripping his length as he pulled out.
“Fuck.” Rafael gritted. He had to use his will to not completely let go. Soft and gentle thrusts were the name of the game. Rafael moved his wet hand to your cunt again, making his fingers more slick with your arousal.
You began to moan again, this time with more encouraging gusto. Rafael realized you must have woken up but he figured he’d just continue with the scene. He knew if he knew you were fully awake, it���d take away from the fantasy.
“Go back to sleep, cariño.” Rafael whispered in your ear as he began to fuck you harder, his hips snapping against your ass. You moaned even more.
Rafael went back to playing with your tits, squeezing harder, with more milk dripping out. All of it felt filthy and taboo and this apparently awoken some side of him that he didn’t know he had. The sounds of wet and skin on skin filled the room. Eventually, Rafael’s breathing grew harder and he gave in to his carnal desperation, fucking you with gusto.
“Rafael, oh fuck!” You cried out, no longer caring that you were fully awake. And neither did Rafael, as he began to rub your clit harder. You let out a cry as you came, you pussy clenching around his cock, milking Rafael for all that he was worth. Rafael let out a deep guttural groan as his slammed into you one, two, and then three more times before stilling. Thick ropes of creamy white cum painted your walls before seeping out where you were both intimately connected.
You turned your head to Rafael’s. You were still laced with sleepiness, but you longed for his lips on yours. Rafael slipped out and turned you, so you were facing him fully. He kissed you, his tongue entangling with yours as his hands went back to your breasts. He kissed his way down before taking one of your tits in his mouth, lapping the sweet milk your body had to offer, while his hand went to your clit, now overstimulated, once more.
You let out a gasp, squeezing your eyes tightly as you came again. Rafael let out a groan as you gushed around his hand, soaking the sheets. Rafael removed his mouth from your breasts and then kissed you brutally hard. You pulled away, your eyes wide. “Rafi - that was my water breaking.”
Rafael’s eyes widened at the realization of your words. He gave you a big grin before pressing a quick kiss on your lips. “Okay, let’s do this.” He helped you out of bed and you went to your closet to change quickly. You slipped a clean shirt on and watched as Rafael scrambled around.
“See mi amor, I told you it would work.”
**
FIN.
[Tags] None.
#rafael barba fanfic#rafael barba fanfiction#rafael barba smut#rafael barba x reader#law and order svu fanfiction#rafael barba x you
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Forever Just Isn’t Enough - George Weasley
Title: Forever Just Isn’t Enough
Pairing: George x Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW!! Fingering, female receiving oral, unprotected sex, dirty talk, cockwarming, feeling full kink ?? again idk if that’s a real thing but oh well
Extra Warnings: major character death!! Minor character death. Slightly alcoholism, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief and dealing with grief, one comment that could allude to suicide, mentions of death and infant loss, mentions of blood and blood loss. Mentions of injuries. Mentions of childbirth.
Summary: just when things seem like they can finally fall into place, everything nearly falls apart. Will George and Y/N really get their forever? Or will their dreams crumble around them?
A/N: summary is shit but here it is! Here is its, the mammoth that is good girl part 3!! This fic has been nearly a month in the making and it is officially the longest thing I’ve ever written!! It’s 23k words so buckle up! This really is the final part, and I have definitely become attached to this universe. Everything in italics is flashbacks!! I would like to give a huge thanks to @pineapplesandpinas who left a reply on one of my posts that actually inspired this fic! I’d also like to give a huge thanks to the person who gave me some editing help and is coincidentally the person who requested this in the first place, I hope you like it!! As always feedback is welcome!
Tags: @feltondarling @pandaxnienke @raerae27 @allforthexgame @pigwidgexn @hufflrpuffforfred @wand3ringr0s3 @whiz-bangs78 @gcdric @starlightweasley @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @dracoswhore007 @lexymoniqu @amourtentiaa @mischiefisbeingmanaged
Read Part 1 here, Read Part 2 here
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Y/N’s chest heaves with deep breathes as she runs down a corridor, watching walls crumble as they get hit with stray curses. She used to be able to walk through Hogwarts with her eyes closed and know exactly where she was in any given moment. But now her heart hammers in her chest as she stands at the junction of two different hallways, unsure of where they’ll lead her. Y/N can hear footsteps barreling towards her, and in a moment of panic she heads to the left, gripping her wand tightly in her hand.
Her legs carry her as fast as they can down the hallway as she silently prays to find someone she knows. By the time she clambered into the room of requirement from the passageway that starts at the Hogs Head Inn preparations for the impending battle were already in full swing and the Order was spread out around the entire castle. Y/N had caught a flash of red hair as she helped Cho Chang cast a protection spell, but by the time she turned her head it was already gone. Death Eaters reached the castle nearly 30 minutes ago, and Y/N has been on her own the entire time, casting curses and spells at them as she searched for Ginny or Hermione. For George. She’s already seen a few bodies lying still on the floor, and her heart is in her stomach with the thought that George could be one of them. Laying lifeless in some hallway all by himself.
Y/N starts to slow down as a wall approaches and she can hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. A dead end. The footsteps behind her persist, and she has no choice but to stop as she reaches the end of the hallway, turning around to face her fate. She raises her wand as she looks at the person coming up towards her, but it falters slightly as a familiar face stops just a few feet away. “Adrian?”
Adrian grins as he takes a few steps closer to Y/N, but it’s not the same fond smile he’d shared with her many times. It’s wicked, evil almost and Y/N tries to swallow the lump that’s suddenly formed in her throat as memories of the last time she’d seen Adrian come swirling to the forefront of her mind.
Y/N turns around when she feels a tap on her shoulder, a wide smile on her face. Seven years of hard work has all lead to this: graduation day. She feels absolutely euphoric, and when she turns around and spots Adrian she pulls him into a hug – too excited to second guess herself. It’s the first time they’ve hugged in nearly half a year and while it feels familiar, it’s mostly awkward.
After the conversation Y/N and George had on the train ride back to school from winter break Y/N really made a conscious effort to start a new life with George. The way they had been operating as a couple was only leading them towards disaster, and they were both willing to do anything to avoid that possibility.
The main change they made together was to spend more time together as a couple that didn’t involve getting rid of their clothes. Instead of sitting with each other’s friends during meals all the time, they decided to sit on their own a few times a week so they would get a chance to just talk to each other and reconnect after a crazy day. Y/N started to spend the night over in George’s dorm with him, and while they did have sex most of the time, they took the time to just lay there and hold each other too. While Y/N was busy doing her homework in the library George would just sit there with her, sometimes working on stuff for the joke shop, but sometimes just sitting there and watching her work.
But by far the biggest change was one that rested in Y/N’s hands alone, she needed to set new boundaries with Adrian. Her friends had become her security blanket over the years, their friendship began on that first train ride to Hogwarts, when they were all nervous and scared. She relied on them heavily to be her emotional support, and when George came into her life Y/N made no efforts to change any of that. Y/N had thought George could just slip into their friend group as if he had always been there, but it quickly became clear that wasn’t the case.
Her relationship with Adrian was definitely the biggest point of contention in her and George’s relationship, and was thus the one thing that really changed. It was common for her and Adrian to be physically affectionate towards each other. An arm around the shoulders, a tight hug after a long day, even the occasional hand holding. Y/N hadn’t realized how that might hurt George, and so she put a stop to it immediately. On the occasions where she did sit with her friends at meals she stuck by Daphne’s side, instead of falling into her usual seat next to Adrian. She stopped wearing his Quidditch jumpers to their matches and she made sure to quiet his flirtatious comments, reminding him that she has a boyfriend now, and comments like that make her and George uncomfortable.
So now being close with Adrian feels too close, and while he tries to linger in her grasp Y/N pulls away with a tight grin. “I can’t believe it, we’re finally done!”
“This is the last chance we have, Y/N,” Adrian starts, placing his hands on her hips. Before Y/N can shake off his grasp Adrian lurches forward and presses their lips together.
Y/N moves her face away and tries to push Adrian off of her. “Adrian, stop. I’m with George, you know that.”
“But you could be with me. You should be with me,” Adrian tells her, tightening his grip on her hips. “That’s how it was supposed to be, Y/N. Marcus and Daphne would get married, we would get married. Our kids would grow up together, we’d stand on the same platform we met on holding hands as we send our kids off to school. I love you. And you were supposed to love me too.”
Before Y/N has a chance to respond, a familiar hand is grabbing Adrian’s shoulder and pulling him away from Y/N. George stands in between them, and while Y/N can’t see George’s face, she can tell from the way his back muscles are tensed that he’s pissed.
“What the hell are you doing, Pucey?” George spits. “Y/N doesn’t feel that way about you. She never has and she never will. If this wasn’t supposed to be a special day for her I’d knock your fucking lights out like I’ve wanted to since November. So, get the fuck out of here before I make you get the fuck out of here.”
Y/N wraps her arms around George’s neck as he turns around, watching Adrian stalk off over his shoulder.
-
“Long time no see, Y/N,” he taunts, keeping his wand pointed at her.
Y/N tightens her grip on her wand, keeping it at his chest. Their friendship may have ended in disaster, but she hopes that the years of memories they had before that keep him from doing anything. Adrian may not be the person she thought he was, but Y/N doesn’t want to hurt him. “How’ve you been?” she asks, trying to keep her voice even.
Adrian scoffs. “Don’t act like you care about me now, Y/N. You had your chance to be with me. And you gave it up, for what? True Love?” his voice is mocking, condescending and it makes Y/N’s stomach turn. “But where’s Weasley now? When you need him most?” Adrian’s eyes fall from Y/N’s face to her neck and she lets out a gasp as he places his wand on her chest and lifts up the end of her necklace with it. The tip of his wand is now directly in front of her neck, and a cold sweat runs down her back. “Still wearing this cheap necklace, I see. If you were mine you’ d be dripping with diamonds and pearls. You’d want for nothing.”
“All I want is George,” Y/N answers firmly. Y/N hasn’t taken the necklace George gave her for their first Christmas together off since the day he put it on her neck. It’s like a promise ring, it’s George’s promise of forever, and in these times she’s needed it now more than ever. “So, go head and kill me, or Crucio me, or do whatever you want. But I’m gonna die thinking about George, I’m going to die loving George. And I hope that knowledge drives you crazy for the rest of your life.” Y/N closes her eyes as Adrian’s mouth opens, getting ready to cast her own curse. But before either of them can say anything a familiar voice is casting a curse of their own.
“Stupefy!” George shouts, his wand aimed directly at Adrian’s back.
Y/N’s eyes pop back open as Adrian’s body slumps to the ground, and there George is, standing just a few feet away, his stance firm and his wand raised high. Tears start to spill down her cheeks as she steps over Adrian’s unconscious body before Y/N is running at full speed towards her boyfriend and jumping into his open arms. “Oh my god Georgie,” she sobs, pressing her face into his neck.
“Hi teacup,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms firmly around her waist. He can hear her laugh at the nickname, and George presses a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “I’ve been looking all over for you, darling. I’ve been losing my fucking mind.”
Y/N pulls away from George’s neck so she can kiss him desperately. It’s been far too long since she last saw him, and Y/N can’t help but think about the last time George held her like this.
-
“Y/N! Grab my hand!” George shouts, reaching out to her.
Y/N shouts a curse at a snatcher as she runs towards George, gripping onto his hand tightly with her own. She shuts her eyes tight as George pulls her into his chest, and it feels like all the air is being sucked from her lungs as George disapperates them to safety.
“Fucking hell,” Y/N groans as she lands on her back in the middle of a field, George landing right on top of her. George’s fingers dig into her sides and Y/N laughs as she pushes at his shoulders. “Get off of me you oaf I’m suffocating!”
They both giggle as George rolls off of Y/N, settling on his back next to her. “Are you okay, teacup?”
Y/N takes a few deep breaths, trying to find the answer to George’s question. Official Order business put them in the middle of some forest on the outskirts of Essex, and just before they were leaving they ran into a band of snatchers. They ran and fought them for nearly 20 minutes before George had managed to take them to wherever they are now.
“I’m okay,” Y/N answers honestly a few minutes later. She turns onto her side so she can look down at George. “Are you doing okay? Where are we?”
“Aunt Muriel’s house is about 100 yards north of us, we used to play Quidditch out here when we’d visit her as kids. It’s the only place I could think of that would be safe and secluded.” George reaches up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I’m doing okay. Better now that I’m here with you.”
Y/N smiles at George sadly and leans down to kiss him softly. After the ministry fell Y/N left her training program at St. Mungo’s to work for the Order full time, and she was placed in a safe house up in Wales. Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes has been closed for weeks, and Fred and George have turned it into Potterwatch Headquarters. It’s now early November, and Y/N hasn’t seen George since the beginning of August at Bill and Fleur’s wedding.
“I wish I could come home,” she says quietly, running her fingers through George’s hair. He hasn’t been home for Molly to cut it and it’s starting to get long again. “It’s so lonely up in Wales without you. Feels like I can’t get a proper nights sleep without you in bed next to me.”
George grabs Y/N’s chin and pulls her down into a searing kiss. “Our bed is cold without you, teacup. Your pillow doesn’t even smell like you anymore.” He reaches up then and untucks her necklace from the collar of her shirt. “Still wearing this old thing?” he teases, toying with the charms. “I should get you something new, flashier. Even with Diagon Alley closed we’ve been doing some mail order business. And I’ve got all that savings. Could get you something nice.”
Y/N scoffs and slaps George on the chest playfully. “I love my necklace, Georgie. You act like you still don’t wear that stupid teapot pin every day,” she teases. “Teapots are kinda our thing and I love that. Besides you should spend your savings on something important. Like a new broom or something.”
“Or an engagement ring, or a wedding, or a house,” George muses with a grin. “I’m gonna end up spending it on you either way, Y/N. You take your pick.”
“Stop, don’t say that,” Y/N responds, her cheeks flushing pink.
George pulls Y/N onto his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I promised you forever, didn’t I, Y/N? Once this war is over I’m going to put the fattest diamond money can buy on your ring finger and officially make you mine forever. Got it?”
“It doesn’t have to be the fattest diamond, just something simple and classy,” Y/N mumbles, pressing her face into George’s chest. She can feel his laughter rumble in his chest, and she smiles against his shirt. “I wish we could just lay here forever.”
“Me too,” George responds quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you. So much that it hurts sometimes. You know that, right?”
Y/N looks up at George, a look of concern on her features. “Of course, George. I love you too.”
“I just,” George pauses to clear his throat, needing to choke back the rush of emotion he’s suddenly feeling. “I need you to know, how much you mean to me. In case, in case this is the last time you ever see me. This war, everything is so uncertain. I could die, I just-,” George’s words cut off as he suddenly sobs, and hot tears start to roll down his cheeks.
“Georgie,” Y/N coos, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. She rolls off of him then onto her back, pulling George so he’s half laying on top of her with his head resting on her chest. She starts to run a hand through his hair, while the other rubs his back soothingly. “You can’t think about stuff like that, okay? I know things are scary out there but we gotta stay focused on the positive. That fat diamond and the big wedding and the house. The dog, the chickens, the babies. How am I gonna get my six little ginger babies if you die? Hm?”
“Six?” George asks with a sniffle. “I thought we agreed on four.”
“Yeah well I’ve had a lot of time to think while I’ve been on my own and I changed my mind,” Y/N chuckles. “Either way you have to stay alive in order to give me all that. So promise me George, that you’ll stay alive. That you’ll fight hard, for me. For you. For our ginger babies.”
George picks his head up and pulls Y/N’s face down to his, kissing her slowly and with so much love it makes his head dizzy. “I promise. Forever.”
-
That moment was already six months ago, but to Y/N it’s felt like a lifetime, so she hugs him a bit tighter, trying to convey six months’ worth of feelings and sentiments into one embrace. Time is not on their side, and while Y/N would happily stand here in George’s embrace for the next few weeks, if they both plan on staying alive they can’t linger too long.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Y/N asks, pulling away slightly so she can properly look at George. There’s dust and debris all over his face, she doesn’t see any blood, and as her hands roam around his torso and arms she can’t feel any bandages and he doesn’t wince at all.
George chuckles and cups Y/N’s face in one of his hands. “I’m absolutely fine, teacup. Not a scratch, I promise. Can’t give you those six ginger babies like I promised if I’m hurt, can I?”
“It’s seven now,” Y/N mumbles, pressing her face into his chest. “And I want a sheep too.”
“And a sheep? That’s it, that’s where I draw the line,” George teases, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What about you? Are you okay, Y/N? I thought Adrian. I thought Adrian was gonna kill you.”
Y/N shudders at the thought of what might have happened and looks up at George. There’s so much that’s happened since they last spoke, so much she needs to tell him. But now is certainly not the time or place for it. Once they get through this night they’ll have the rest of their lives to be together, heal together. “I’m doing alright. Better now that I’ve seen you. Have you seen anyone else?”
George shakes his head. “Fred and I got separated a bit ago, I saw him with Percy not too long ago, just before I found you. Ginny was on bridge duty with Neville and Seamus so who knows where she ended up. Dad and Mum were in the Great Hall when I left them, and I haven’t seen Ron, Hermione or Harry since the preparations began. But honestly I haven’t been paying attention too much. I’ve been trying to find you, teacup. I was worried when you didn’t show up in the room of requirement.”
“I was on duty, with Tonks. By the time we got the memo and got over here stuff was already going on, people were running around and making preparations and stuff. I tried to find you, but Cho needed my help. I’ve been running around this damn castle trying to find you,” Y/N explains.
Just then a wall somewhere near them collapses, and George covers Y/N’s head with his body. George kisses Y/N again as the dust around them settles, needing to feel close to her for another moment. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” he murmurs, pressing a brief kiss to her lips between each set of words. His eye catches the shine of her necklace and George reaches up, feeling the charms between his fingertips. “Just a little bit longer until we can have our forever, yeah?”
“As long as you don’t die on me,” Y/N tries to tease, digging her fingers into George’s shoulders. The fear bubbling in her stomach creeps into her voice, and she rubs her thumb over the teapot pin stuck to the lapel of George’s jacket, needing to ground herself with something familiar. “You can’t die on me, George.” Y/N can feel tears running down her cheeks, but she doesn’t move to wipe them away, not wanting to let go of George, even for a second. “I can’t live without you.”
“You’re my everything,” George murmurs, cupping Y/N’s cheek so he can brush away some of her tears with his thumb. “And you’re never getting rid of me. Got that?”
Y/N nods and leans up on her tiptoes to press one last kiss to George’s mouth. “I’ll see you on the other side, yeah?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
-
Y/N runs as fast as her legs will carry her back to the Great Hall. It’s been hours since she saw George and her hands haven’t stopped shaking since Voldemort started to speak to them, urging them to stop fighting and collect their dead. George could be one of those dead and even though Y/N’s eyes are blurry from the tears she’s shedding, she doesn’t stop to wipe them away. She feels like she can’t breathe, and it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s running. Y/N knows she won’t be able to properly breathe until she sees George again, so she just keeps moving.
Her legs are on fire when she reaches the Great Hall and as she pushes the heavy wooden door open her legs finally come to a screeching halt. There are makeshift gurneys all over the floor, some covered, some not. But Y/N is sure the one thing they have in common is the fact that there’s a dead body laying on top of it. She tries not to let herself linger on their faces too long, just trying to spot a shock of red hair.
That’s when she sees it. The Weasley family is at the other end of the Great Hall, standing around one of the gurneys. Y/N can see Bill and Fleur clutching each other, and everyone has tears in their eyes. She can’t see who’s laying on the ground, but as she lets her eyes pass over everyone a gut-wrenching sob leaves her throat as one thing becomes clear. It’s one of the twins. Whichever one is still alive has their back towards her with their head bowed, so she has no idea who it is.
Y/N’s knees quiver as she forces herself to walk over there, bile rising up her throat. He had promised. George had promised her forever. Had promised her that he’d stay alive. Had promised to spend the rest of his life loving her. They had planned out their entire life, and now that may be all gone.
“George. George, please,” Y/N chokes out as she approaches, her legs feeling like jelly. Whoever it is finally turns around, and Y/N takes her first full deep breath in what feels like forever.
“Teacup,” George cries as Y/N launches herself onto him, his arms wrapping around her waist to hold her close. He presses his face into her neck and just sobs, his shoulders shaking from the force of his tears.
Y/N starts to shush George and rub his back, trying desperately to soothe him. It has always been Fred and George. The only person she ever had to share George with was Fred and she never minded a bit. Fred and George were the most dynamic duo the Wizarding World has ever seen, destined to live out the rest of their days making the world laugh and causing chaos wherever they go. But now it’ll be just George, and Y/N has no idea how to make that okay.
Fred and Y/N certainly had their issues. Years of hating someone will do that to you, and when she and George started dating it became a silent agreement between them to be civil. But now, looking at Fred’s pale face over George’s shoulder, Y/N can feel her momentary relief rush out of her body, and overwhelming sadness takes its place as fresh hot tears start to roll down her cheeks.
Her and Fred had just barely started to come together when the war started, and now they’ll never have that chance again.
-
“He’s fine you know,” Fred comments as he comes to stand next to Y/N. “You’re looking at him as if he’s going to fall apart into a million tiny pieces with a hard gust of wind.”
Y/N chuckles, and finally looks away from George so she can look up at Fred. Bill and Fleur’s wedding is in full swing, and while Y/N knows this is supposed to be a time to celebrate, a rare moment of sunshine in the darkness of the Wizarding World, panic settled deep in her stomach the moment she stumbled into the Burrow with Ron and saw George lying on the couch, bleeding out of his head and it hasn’t left since. Had the curse been aimed half a centimeter to the left they’d be at a funeral right now, not a wedding. Molly had managed to heal George up fine, and he’s been his usual jovial self over the few days it’s been since his injury, but Y/N can’t help but still worry.
“It makes me feel better,” Y/N admits honestly, letting her eyes find George again. “I’m afraid that if I look away for too long he’ll just disappear. That all my fears will be confirmed and there will forever be a George sized hole in my heart and my life.” Y/N swallows thickly, trying to push away the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks. “He could have died, and I truly wouldn’t know what to do with myself if that happened.”
“I thought he was dead,” Fred says after a few moments of silence, surprising Y/N. “When Dad and I got back he asked where George was, and no one said anything. Remus, Harry, they all just looked at us. I figured he was dead. That’s why they wouldn’t tell us. There was so much blood when we got in there, I actually thought he was dead. And then he moved, and it felt like I could breathe again.”
Y/N worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches George fiddle with the gauze wrapped around his head. She wants to just go over there and slap his hands away and remind him he has to keep it clean if he wants it to heal, a conversation she already had to have with him this morning after she found him sipping coffee in the kitchen with his toothbrush sticking out of the side of his head.
“It’s my fault. I wasn’t even supposed to go. But Tonks is pregnant, and she shouldn’t be putting her life on the line like that. Not even for blimin’ Harry Potter. George tried to convince me not to go. Said he’d worry about me too much if I was out there.” Y/N shrugs, taking a long sip of champagne. “Maybe if I had stayed here like I was supposed to he would have been able to dodge the curse, or he’d have been focused enough to send Snape out of the sky before he even got a chance to hurt George.”
Fred nudges Y/N with his elbow so she’ll look up at him. “You like, really love him, don’t you?”
Y/N rolls her eyes. “Really? It took George almost dying for you to realize that? Figured your first clue would have been all the times you heard us having sex. Or maybe the fact that I’ve been living with you guys for over a year now.”
“Okay, no need to be nasty,” Fred huffs. “Obviously I know you guys are in love with each other or whatever. But you’re like really in it, yeah? For the long haul. Thought maybe you guys shouting about how you’re going to be together forever was just some weird sex thing.”
“I mean it is a weird sex thing,” Y/N tells him, laughing as he grimaces. “But it’s more than that too obviously. There’s no person on this planet I’d rather be with than George. Or who I love more than George. He’s my everything, Fred. I’m not going to hurt him, I promise.”
“Better not,” Fred mumbles with a scoff. “I’ll curse you into next week if you do, bloody girl or not.”
Y/N can hear the smile in Fred’s voice, but before she gets a chance to respond George is heading over towards them, looking far too pleased with himself.
“Look at this, my brother and my girlfriend getting along, how cute,” he teases, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist. She reaches up to fix his bandage where it slipped, and her gentle touch makes his knees feel weak. “Just in time too. Be a bit awkward for Fred to be my best man if you two hate each other still.”
“Who said I’d want to be your best man anyway, git?” Fred jokes. “All this wedding crap is for the birds.”
George rolls his eyes fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “Fine, I’ll just ask Ron or Harry or Lee. Maybe even Charlie. You’re not the only man for the job, Freddie.”
“But I’m the best man for it,” Fred responds, causing both Y/N and George to groan at his lame joke. “Try and replace me as your best man again and you’ll never hear the end of my cheesy jokes, moron.”
“No need to be feisty, I was just playing. Of course, you’re the only man for the job.”
-
Now Fred will never get to be the best man at their wedding. Or be there when their children are born. Or have children of his own. Just like how Y/N and George planned out their lives, he and Fred had done the same. Buying houses next to each other so they never had to travel far to see the other. They both wanted to have a boy first, close in age, so they each had someone to hand the joke shop down to. But in the blink of an eye all of that has changed, and Y/N doesn’t know if George will ever be the same again.
“You’re okay, George. It’s all gonna be okay,” Y/N coos, just wanting to calm him down. She presses a few kisses to the side of his face slowly, just letting him know that she’s there. Her arms wind around his neck as George’s grip tightens on her waist and she just hugs him tightly.
Y/N hears someone sob behind her, and she releases George so he can pull Ron into a bone crushing hug. She pulls Ginny into a hug next, letting the younger girl rest her head on her shoulder. Y/N isn’t officially a Weasley, not by any means, but this family has shown her nothing but love and welcomed her with open arms and she wants to do everything she can to help them through this. She and Hermione lock eyes, and Y/N can tell by the way the other girl is hovering on the edge of the circle with her hand on Ron’s shoulder she feels the same way.
Harry is hovering just behind Hermione, but instead of coming closer like Y/N expects he turns on his heel and heads out of the Great Hall. Y/N knows that can only mean one thing. This battle is far from over, and she hugs Ginny just a little tighter, hoping it gives them both the strength to keep fighting.
-
The sun is already high in the sky when everyone makes it back to The Burrow. They’re living in a new world, a world that will never be plagued by Voldemort’s darkness, but it seems darkness of other kinds has already started to take its place. 50 people lost their lives that night alone, not to mention the countless others who’ve been lost along the way. Death has touched many families in the Wizarding World, and everyone can feel its burden as they collapse into chairs at the kitchen table.
Molly starts worrying about food and making everyone tea, while George shuffles up the stairs without bothering to say anything. They all had lingered in the Great Hall for as long as they could, not wanting to leave Fred’s body there alone. It wasn’t until people from St. Mungo’s showed up to take away the dead that Molly and Arthur suggested they all head home, and Bill and Charlie had to practically drag George away from Fred. He barely even looked at anyone as they started to apperate home, and when Y/N tried to grab his hand he shoved her off.
Y/N tried not to take it personally, obviously George is going through the hardest moment of his life, but she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Her and George are supposed to be there for each other through everything, and it makes her chest ache that in the time where he needs people the most he’s pushing her away.
“He’ll come around,” Charlie whispers, nudging Y/N’s knee with his. She finally looks away from the staircase, trying to return his warm smile. “Fred and,” he starts, pausing to clear his throat. “George is tough, probably the toughest guy I know, and I’ve seen some things in Romania. He just needs a bit of time.”
“Thanks, Charlie.” Y/N takes a sip of her tea, just needing something to distract herself. It’s still fairly hot and the liquid burns the roof of her mouth, but the uncomfortable feeling of her singed tongue is a welcome distraction from the pain in her chest, and Y/N takes another sip.
“Y/N dear, why don’t you go ahead and owl your parents? I’m sure they’re waiting to hear from you,” Molly suggests, before turning back to whatever she has cooking on the stove.
Y/N rests her mug back on the table and plays with the sleeves of her jumper, trying to fight the tears that threaten to spill over her cheeks. “They’re um. They died actually. About three months ago now I think.” The kitchen goes still, and Y/N drops her gaze to the table as everyone turns to look at her. “They wouldn’t let me move them to a safe house, they kept going on about how they weren’t afraid of Voldemort, that they weren’t going to let him force them out of their house. But when death eaters come knocking you either join or die, so.”
Her parents may have refused to be moved to a safe house, but they allowed Y/N to set up an undetectable communication system, so they could at least keep in touch. When her parents went more than eight hours without responding to her last message Y/N started to freak out, and she convinced Remus to go with her to check on them. They were sitting on the couch as if they had simply fallen asleep together, but Y/N could tell something much sinister had happened. She managed to find their house elf Marjorie hiding in the garden shed, and she told Y/N everything that had happened. How people in masks had shown up and when her parents refused to leave with them jets of green light came from their wands. Y/N ended up being called away on a mission, and her parents were buried in the small cemetery at the end of their road, with no one in attendance but the grave digger.
Y/N can feel arms wrap around her, and she presses her face into Ginny’s neck finally letting herself cry. There wasn’t proper time for her to mourn her parents, not in the middle of the war, and as Ginny squeezes her tight Y/N finally lets the emotions that have been building inside of her for the past three months spill out. “They were my only family. And now they’re just gone and I’m all alone.”
“You’re not alone,” Ginny coos quietly, rubbing her back. “We’re your family too.”
-
George barely gets out of bed for days. The only times he moves are to shuffle to the loo or when Y/N or Molly is forcing him to drink water or eat something. His eyes are blank, lifeless and Y/N hasn’t heard him speak since the battle. He doesn’t even make sounds when he cries anymore, the tears just run down his face as he takes shaky breaths.
And as much as it pains Y/N to see George like this, pains them all to see him like this they just let him be. Of course, they all feel Fred’s death. But no one, not even Y/N can fathom what Fred’s death feels like to George. So they let him lay in Fred’s old bed, stopping in to check on him periodically throughout the day and talk to him even though he never talks back. And every night before she crawls into George’s old bed Y/N is sure to kiss George on the top of his head and whisper how much she loves him before going to sleep alone.
The first day they actually force him out of bed is the day of Fred’s funeral. Bill and Charlie pick him up under the armpits and deposit him in the bathroom where Y/N is waiting, situating him in the empty tub. Y/N gives them both an appreciative smile before they leave, and as soon as the door is shut tight behind them she turns to George.
“Gotta get you undressed, okay bub?” she asks softly, kneeling down next to the tub. George keeps his eyes facing forward but gives a little nod, and Y/N takes it as her cue to get him undressed. Once she’s gotten rid of his clothes Y/N lets the tub start to fill up with water, and she runs her hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp as they wait for it to finish.
Y/N washes George quickly, just talking to him about whatever things come to mind. At one-point George reaches up and cups her cheek and Y/N can’t help but lean into his touch. It’s the first contact he’s initiated since they left Hogwarts, and it makes butterflies erupt in her stomach.
Once George is clean Y/N drains the tub and uses a spell to dry George off before pulling a fresh pair of boxers up his legs. “Your suits in your room. Do you want me to get Bill and Charlie or will you be okay going on your own with me?”
All George does is make a noise in the back of his throat, but he starts to stand up then, so Y/N lets him move, following behind him back into his and Fred’s old room. Molly is standing in the hallway, and she and Y/N share a hopeful look before they disappear into the room. This is the most life George has had in him since Fred’s death, and Y/N hopes this means they’re on the road to recovery.
“I got you a new suit,” Y/N tells him as he takes a seat on his bed and she heads over to the wardrobe to grab it from where it’s hanging. Her and Molly had gone to the flat above Wheezes the day before to grab some things for the both of them, but the main thing they needed was something for George to wear. The only formal clothes he has at the Burrow are the dress robes he wore to the Yule Ball, so they needed to get him something.
But as they examined George’s closet they mostly found t-shirts and sweaters, nothing proper for him to wear at a funeral. Turns out the only suits George owns are the few he rotates between for work, and when Molly had reached in to grab one Y/N put her hand out to stop her. Because all of those suits have a matching one hanging in Fred’s closet across the hall. And even though George isn’t ready to jump back into work Y/N knows that he will be, someday. And she doesn’t want any one of these suits to be tainted with the memories of Fred’s funeral. Not when they already hold so many happy memories. Memories of the first day the store was open, of all their late nights brainstorming new products or dealing with paperwork. Y/N had seen George at his happiest while wearing those suits, had watched him and Fred share mischievous smiles as their dreams became a reality. Someday George will step into one of those suits again, and Y/N doesn’t want the first thing he thinks about to be Fred’s funeral.
She gets George dressed quickly, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead once it’s done. “I love you, George. And I know you love me too, even if you can’t say it right now, okay? I’m here for you always. No matter what.” Y/N goes over to the desk in the corner and grabs the teapot pin she bought for George all those years ago. It feels thin and flimsy in her hand, and she almost feels silly as she pins it to his jacket. Like she’s still that eager teenager, shopping in London with her Mum for the perfect gift to give the boy of her dreams that she loves with her whole heart. But it’s their promise of forever, and Y/N thinks George needs that now more than ever.
-
Fred’s funeral is packed, which is a surprise to no one. Fred was magnetic and left an impression on everyone he ever came in contact with. Y/N stays by George’s side, greeting everyone that comes to talk with them. Most of their classmates show up and Y/N even recognizes a few regulars from the joke shop. Even Professor Slughorn shows up, despite the fact that he never taught Fred, and Y/N is pretty sure she catches McGonagall wiping away a few tears out of the corner of her eye.
Andromeda comes through with baby Teddy in her arms, and even George cracks the faintest of smiles when the sparse hair on his head turns bright orange. The only time Y/N leaves George’s side is when Lee shows up and she goes to stand with Ginny and Harry who are comforting a teary-eyed Oliver Wood so that the two friends can have a moment alone. George doesn’t say anything, but when Lee goes to sit down George has tears running down his cheeks and Y/N goes back to his side so she can wipe them away.
Ginny ends up being the one to give the Eulogy. Both Bill and Charlie had tried, but every time they sat down to write something they just couldn’t get the words out. Percy had declined his dad’s offer, still too unsure of his place in the family and still too busy blaming himself to feel comfortable enough to talk about how much Fred meant to him. George had been the obvious choice, but he can’t even talk about the weather, and no one wanted to pressure him into doing something he wasn’t ready for. Ron had actually managed to write out a beautiful tribute with the help of Hermione, but two words in he got so emotional he started hyperventilating.
So, it fell onto Ginny’s shoulders to be the one to give the tribute to Fred. Y/N watches Ginny’s knees shake as she stands in front of her brother’s casket, her eyes never once straying to the cards in her hands. Her voice is clear and strong as she tells the story about the first prank she’d ever helped Fred and George pull off, but the tears streaming down her face glisten in the sunlight. Both Fred and George always held a soft spot for their younger sister, so as she stands up there and talks about how much she loved Fred it only seems right that Ginny be the one to say the final goodbye to him.
As Fred’s casket lowers into the ground everyone stands up, holding their wands high as they cast a bright white light into the sky. Y/N slips her hand into George’s, giving his fingers a tight squeeze as they give their final tribute to Fred. Ron waves his wand so a few whizbangs he and Harry had set up can go off. They had found them in Fred and George’s room so of course as they erupt into the sky the colors burst into a few different explicit words.
Everyone, even George, manages to laugh and it feels like the perfect way to send off Fred, the guy who dedicated his life to making people laugh and who died with his final smile still etched on his face.
-
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay a bit longer?” Molly asks, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “It’s not a bother at all having you two here. It’s nice, to have the house a bit full again.”
Y/N nods, sparing a glance over her shoulder at George. He’s sitting on the arm of the sofa, listening to Ron chatter on about who knows what. It’s nearly June now, and while things with George have been progressing slowly, Y/N is optimistic that they’ll only get better as time goes on. He gets out of bed for short stretches of time now, and when you talk with him he actually seems like he’s listening. He’s said a few quiet things to both Molly and Y/N, but when the whole family is around he tends to just sit there and let everyone else do the talking for him.
Things have started to get back to somewhat normal for everyone, and Y/N decided it was time for her and George to do the same. Bill and Fleur are back at shell cottage, working hard to get Gringotts back in working order, and Charlie finally went back to Romania last week. Arthur and Percy will be back at the ministry next week, and even Harry and Ron will be joining them for their Auror training.
George isn’t ready to reopen the shop yet, but Y/N figures just being back in the flat will help him continue to heal. “I think some normalcy will help George. Get him in a routine, back to living his everyday life. We’ll be back plenty, but I think it’s time we go home.”
“My boy is in good hands with you, Y/N, that’s for sure.” Molly leans in and presses a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “And you’ll owl? If anything happens?”
“Of course, Molly.” Y/N gives Molly a final smile before turning back to look at George. “You ready to go home, love?”
George nods and doesn’t say anything, but the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile. He takes the hand that Y/N offers him, holding it loosely in his own. He still isn’t as physically affectionate as before, but Y/N is sure that with time everything will go back to how it was before.
-
“Are you going to get out of bed today?” Y/N asks, unable to stop the annoyance that creeps into her tone.
It’s nearly October now, and things with George have only seemed to stay the same, if not worse. Some days he gets out of bed and hangs out on the couch, flipping through muggle tv stations for hours on end, holding small conversations with Y/N when he feels up to it. Other days he lays in bed all day, or sometimes for days, his lips shut tight and him barely eating. Firewhiskey seems to be the main component of his diet and Y/N has no idea how he keeps getting more of it after she pours it down the drain, since he never leaves the house.
Everyone has been coddling George, and while Y/N can’t even imagine the pain George has been going through, she’s nearly reached the end of her rope. She’s brought in several different Wizard therapists to try and get George to open up, but each one just ended up leaving the flat after a frustrated hour of George not saying anything. She just wants to figure out some way to help him, and he’s been completely unresponsive in the whole thing.
“Maybe,” George mumbles, rolling onto his other side.
Y/N can hear the unmistakable sound of a Firewhiskey bottle opening and she flips the light on as she enters their room, heading over to George. “Where the hell do you keep getting this crap? Give me the bottle, George.”
George makes eye contact with Y/N as he takes a swig from the bottle, draining quite a bit of the amber liquid. It’s the only thing that has managed to make him feel something in the months since Fred’s death and he doesn’t care how much it bothers Y/N. “Last I checked you weren’t the boss of me,” George responds flatly before taking another drink.
The rude attitude is something new too. Along with his lack of physical affection, some days when George finds the energy to talk his tone is always crass. He’s never said anything horribly mean, but the way he says things never fails to cut Y/N deeply.
“I’m just trying to help you, George,” Y/N reminds him, softening her tone.
George scoffs and tosses the now empty bottle onto the floor. “Well no one asked you to.”
“Because that’s what you do when you love someone, George. You’re there for them no matter what.” Y/N waits for George to say something, and when he doesn’t she lets out a soft sigh. “I’m worried about you, Georgie. You barely get out of bed anymore, you’re not eating. I can’t even imagine the pain you’ve gone through these months. But it’s been nearly six months, love. And Fred wouldn’t want-.”
“Don’t. Don’t talk about him like you knew him. You and Fred had one civil conversation over a year ago. You have no idea what Fred wanted,” George says harshly, cutting Y/N off.
Y/N can feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she takes a deep breath to try and calm down. She knows this isn’t George talking, it’s the alcohol and the grief, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “I get your upset George, I lost people I cared about too. But I don’t get all this anger. Why are you so mad at me? Is it something I said? Something I did? Just talk to me George, please.”
“You want me to talk? Fine, I’ll talk.” George sits up and crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrow as he looks at Y/N. “It’s all your fault, he’s dead because of you. I should have been with Fred. I could have cast a protective spell or pulled him out of the way. And he’d still be here. But I wasn’t with him. You know why? I was faffing about the castle looking for you, saving you. When I should have been with Fred.”
Y/N can feel hot tears running down her cheeks, and her fingers shake as she reaches up to wipe them away. “What are you saying, George? That you regret trying to find me? That you regret saving me? That you would go back and let Adrian kill me so you could save Fred?” Y/N pauses to swallow the lump in her throat. “You wish it had been me who died, don’t you?”
George doesn’t say anything, but it’s answer enough for Y/N. “Fuck you, George. I’ve spent the past five months of my life giving you my everything. Trying to help you, trying to make you feel better. And you’ve been what? Laying there wishing it had been me instead of Fred?” Y/N can feel her heart shattering as George just continues to look at her, the same cold expression on his face as before. “Well I’m done. With helping you, with coddling you. With everything.”
She can feel the necklace George gave her pressing against her skin, and while it’s normally a comforting feeling, now it feels as if it’s burning her skin and she reaches up, tearing it from around her throat. It’s the first time she’s taken it off since George gave it to her and as she looks at it in her hand Y/N wants to put it right back on. But instead she throws it at George. It lands on his legs, and they both just stare at it for a moment.
“Take your promise of forever and shove it up your ass, George. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything, more than I’ve ever loved myself. But clearly you don’t feel the same way and I’m not going to spend the rest of my life pretending that it doesn’t kill me inside that you don’t love me the same way I love you.”
Without another word Y/N storms out of their bedroom and out of the flat, unsure of where she’s going to go next.
-
“You look dreadful,” Percy says honestly when George opens the door. His eyes are red with dark circles underneath, his hair is a mess and the pajamas he’s wearing are wrinkled and creased from him tossing and turning in his sleep.
Y/N had sent an owl to the Burrow after she ended things with George, and Percy had been the one to volunteer to visit George to try and talk to him. He gave him a few days to think about things before deciding to come and see him after work one day. The war took enough from George, and Percy couldn’t sit back and let George destroy one of the last good things in his life.
“What do you want?” George asks flatly, shuffling over towards the couch. He’s felt sick to his stomach since the moment Y/N walked away from him. He was angry and kind of drunk and sad when they fought, and George hadn’t meant a word of what he said to her. But he needed a way to get her to leave. Because George doesn’t know when he’ll ever feel normal again, when he’ll be able to love her properly again, and watching her throw her life away to help him fight a losing battle was getting to be too much.
It started two weeks ago, on one of his good days. He woke up in the morning feeling like himself, feeling like he did before the battle of Hogwarts. George had finally had a dream, not a nightmare or darkness in his eyelids while he slept. It was an actual dream, and when he opened his eyes in the morning the images of him running around a backyard with a redheaded toddler on his shoulders were still fresh in his mind.
And when he made it out into the kitchen where Y/N was making breakfast, she looked gorgeous and the smile on her face when George greeted her was bright enough to light up the world. He finally felt like things were going to be okay. He didn’t feel haunted by the closed bedroom door down the hall. George felt like he was ready, ready to get his shit back together and give Y/N everything he’d ever promised her.
But then he found it in the trash. A letter from the head Healer at St. Mungo’s. She was inviting Y/N to come back into the Healer program, to finish the training she started before the war. All she had to do was send a letter back confirming her reenrollment. But judging by the fact that she hadn’t mentioned anything, and the letter was in the trash, George figured Y/N wasn’t going to reenroll. It killed him that she was giving up on her dream to stay there with him--he was having a good day, but George knew that tomorrow, he could wake up and be right back to struggling to get out of bed. Y/N wanted to be a healer long before George occupied any of her thoughts, and he couldn’t let her throw that away.
So that day, he decided it was best if he let her go. Y/N had given up a lot for George already. His insecurities back at Hogwarts led her away from her best friends, his grief stopped her from dealing with the loss of people she cared about, and now, his inability to get his shit together was going to stop her from fulfilling her dream--the dream that made George start to fall in love with her in the first place. He couldn’t let her give up more of her life than she already had.
When Y/N tried to talk to him that day, he let whatever vile words he could think of spill out of his mouth. Seeing her so hurt, so broken, crushed whatever part of his soul was left, and he couldn’t let her keep living that way. But seeing her tear that necklace off broke something inside of George. He finally felt something other than numbness, and it was complete and utter pain. It felt like his heart was torn from his chest when Y/N slammed the door behind her, and even though George knew not being with him is what’s best for Y/N, his heart still beats for her and he’s sure it always will.
Percy sighs and follows George over to the couch. “What’s going on with you, George? You’re not acting like yourself.”
“I wonder why,” George responds, watching Percy sink into one of their armchairs. It’s weird, seeing him here. Percy barely wanted to enter Fred and George’s bedroom when they lived at home together, so he knows something must really be bothering him if he decided to come to the flat to see George.
“This isn’t about Fred,” Percy starts, holding up his hand to keep George from responding. “I’m not saying that you’re not still upset about him or that your grief isn’t valid. I’m talking about Y/N. She owled Mum about what you said. And while I imagine you’re still very hurt, we all are, I know you would never say anything like that to her. I’m not going to pretend that I know what your relationship with her was like, but I know you, George. And I saw the way she took care of you after what happened. So I know there’s no way you could have meant those things you said to her.”
“I’m not good enough for her anymore,” George says suddenly after a few minutes of silence. “I’m broken, damaged goods. And Y/N deserves the world. She was wasting her life sitting here and taking care of me. I couldn’t let her do that anymore.”
“George you’re not broken, or damaged. You’re healing, there’s a difference. And keeping all of this in is certainly not helping.” Percy sits back and just watches George for a moment. “We talked, down in the kitchen that first night after the battle, Y/N and I. I couldn’t sleep and she came down for some water. We were talking, and I asked her what changed, how she went from hating your guts to looking at you like you’re the only person in the world. Do you wanna know what she said to me?”
When George just shrugs Percy leans forward so he can look at George better. “She told me about the night in detention. About how you guys had an actual conversation for once. And that you made her feel like someone was actually listening to her. That you validated her dreams and made her feel like they were attainable. Y/N said that she told you stuff she never even told her closest friends, because just being around you made her feel safe, like she could be vulnerable around you.”
George thinks about that first night in detention often. After that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. He even remembers having a dream about how nice her hair smelled, and how good it would have felt to run his fingers through it. He thinks about that night in the broom closet too, hiding from McGonagall; he’d wanted to kiss her so badly, being so close to her made his knees shaky and his chest tight. George had planned on kissing Y/N that night when he dropped her off at the Slytherin common room, until Umbridge had run into them. When they finally had their first kiss a few nights later in that secret passageway, George knew that from that moment on, he couldn’t live without Y/N.
“Why are you telling me this? It doesn’t matter now.”
Percy sighs. “I’m telling you this because you need to know that it’s okay to be vulnerable with Y/N. Keeping all of this in is only hurting the both of you, George. She very clearly loves you, and I know you must love her too if you’re willing to be miserable for the rest of your life to make her happy. But you can both be happy, George. Happy together. You just need to, and pardon my language, take your head out of your ass.”
George chuckles at that. “Wow, Perc, you must be serious, I’ve never heard you say anything so lewd.”
“Yeah well I slacked on my big brother duties for a few years, I figured it’s time to make up for it.” Percy pauses, pursing his lips. “Y/N’s staying at her parent’s house, getting it all cleaned out. Think about what you’re gonna say and then go over and apologize to her. You deserve to be happy, George. Fred would want you to be happy.”
-
It takes a few days and a visit from his Mum to get his haircut, but George gets his shit together so he can go and talk to Y/N. He spent quite a long time trying to figure out what to say to her, and while it’s not exactly perfect it’s what George feels and that’s what matters to him. Because there’s no doubt in his mind that Y/N is the only person he wants to be with for the rest of his life, and he shouldn’t let his inability to express his thoughts get in the way of that. They’ve already been down that road together before, and George vowed to spend forever with Y/N and he still plans on making good on those promises.
He pushes the front door right open, letting the noise of Y/N muttering to herself as she shuffles things around lead him to where she is. He finds Y/N digging through the drawers of the dresser in her childhood bedroom. She’s wearing an oversized t-shirt that George thinks used to be in his closet and her hair is tied up on her head. George can feel his legs shaking as he leans up against the doorway, and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down.
“Hey, teacup.”
Y/N jumps at the sound of George’s voice and she spins to face the door, her hand clutching her chest. “For Merlin’s sake, George. You scared the shit out of me.” She can feel her heart racing in her chest, and it’s not from the fright George just gave her. He looks good, like his normal self and it feels like she’s seeing him for the first time. Molly has definitely cut his hair recently, and even though he’s still in comfy clothes the Gryffindor t-shirt and sweatpants he’s wearing are uncreased and look like they’ve been washed recently.
“Sorry, love, thought you heard me when I came in.” George bites his lip, fiddling with his thumbs. “You doing okay?”
Y/N shrugs, looking down at the floor. George is the last person she expected to show up here, and she’s not sure how she feels about it. He’s been on her mind since the moment she walked out the door of their flat last week, and the last words he spoke to her have been running on a constant loop in the back of her mind. She’s still so angry and hurt over what he said, but Y/N would be lying if she said every cell in her body isn’t screaming at her to just go up and hug him.
“I’ve been doing better, than before,” George continues when she doesn’t say anything. “Percy came to talk to me a few days ago, made me realize what an ass I was. Though I must say he was much nicer than Ginny was when she did the same thing a few years ago.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, and his stomach flips when Y/N looks back up at him with a small smile. “I owe you probably the biggest apology I’ll ever give in my entire life and I’d love to give it to you if you’d let me.”
It reminds Y/N of that day on the train when their only problems were jealousy and what house table they should eat dinner at. Y/N instinctively reaches up to grab the charms of her necklace, her hand faltering when all she meets is the cloth of her shirt. It’s something she’s done several times in the days it’s been since she ripped the piece of jewelry off, usually when she was missing George and wanted to feel like a piece of him was still nearby.
“I guess that’s something I could do,” she says quietly, going to take a seat on the edge of her bed. She pats the spot next to her, encouraging George to come sit. His hands are shaking as he comes and sits down, and it takes all of Y/N’s restraint to not reach out and grab one of them.
“I lied to you. I don’t blame you, for what happened to Fred. And I don’t regret anything I did that night. If it had been you who died instead of Fred I don’t think I would have been able to carry on with my life. Because Y/N you are quite literally the only reason why I wake up every morning, you’re the reason why I have the energy to get out of bed somedays, and the reason why I feel okay when I don’t. Falling in love with you, being with you has been the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
George reaches up to wipe away a few of the tears Y/N has started to shed, his fingers trembling as they softly press against her cheek. “And even though I haven’t been the best person to be around lately, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’ve been so patient and understanding, way more than I deserve. You put your life on hold to help me, and I’ve been rejecting all of your efforts. I don’t know how to do all of this. How to grieve and handle my emotions. Talk about my emotions. And instead of just trying I’ve been keeping them all in, letting them settle in me and get worse. I haven’t felt like myself in months, haven’t allowed myself to. And yet every day you were there, with a smile and a reassuring touch, telling me how much you love me. I started to feel guilty, so overwhelmingly so it felt like my chest was going to cave in. Because there you were, putting your life on hold, giving up your dream to try and help me and I couldn’t even manage to tell you how much I love and appreciate you.”
Y/N reaches up and wipes away a few of George’s tears this time, letting her fingers gently caress his cheek. “George I didn’t mind, doing all of that for you. That’s what you do when you love someone. You make sacrifices, change your plans. I would give up everything to be there for you.”
“That’s why I said all of those things to you, Y/N. Pushed you away, forced you to leave. Because I don’t want you to give up everything to be with me.” George cups Y/N’s cheek gently so he can look her in the eyes. “You deserve to have everything you’ve ever wanted in life, and you deserve to have a partner that can be there for you. That can support you fully in everything you do. And I didn’t think I could be that person for you.”
“Didn’t think you could be? Or don’t think you could be?” Y/N asks through her sniffles.
“Didn’t,” George confirms, his voice serious. “Because living without you, even for a few moments was the most intense pain I have ever felt. And even though I don’t know when I’ll feel completely back to normal there are a few things I do know. I know that I love you. And I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I want to support you and be there for you in everything you do. And I know that I want to try and be better for you. And for me. Most importantly I know that I want you, forever. I want all those things I promised you, the stupid diamond and the wedding and the seven ginger babies. I know that I actually want to live my life, not just watch it pass me by. And the only person I want to do that with is you.”
George pauses to dig around in the pocket of his sweatpants, and a moment later he pulls out Y/N’s necklace. Except this time along with the teapot and G charm, there’s a simple diamond ring hanging from the chain. “So I am so, so sorry for treating you the way I have, the way I did. And teacup, if you’ll let me, I promise to cherish you and support you and love you forever.”
It’s not the way Y/N ever imagined this moment would take place, but as she surges forward to kiss George properly for the first time in months, it feels absolutely perfect. She knows that they have a long road of healing and mending ahead and that their lives will probably never be the way they imagined them. But none of that matters. All Y/N needs and has ever needed is George. “Of course, George. There is no one else I want to spend forever with.”
George lets Y/N pull him into another kiss as he fumbles with the necklace, trying to get the ring off so he can slip it onto her finger. She starts to kiss down his neck, and George lets out a soft moan as he finally gets the ring in his hand. “Hang on teacup, wait a minute.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Y/N mumbles as she pulls away, her cheeks flushed pink. “It’s fine if you’re not ready to we can wait for as long as you want I just figured that-.”
George cuts her off with a laugh. “Oh no that’s not what I meant, Y/N. I am more than ready to be with you like that again. I just wanna put your ring and your necklace on first.”
“Oh right I kinda forgot about that,” Y/N says with a giggle, holding her left hand out for George. Between the war and George’s grief they haven’t been intimate in well over a year now, and Y/N’s fingers stopped being sufficient long ago so in her haste to get George into bed she completely forgot about the ring.
“You can’t not have your ring on the first time we do it as an engaged couple,” George teases as he slides the ring down her finger. The diamond glistens in the sunlight streaming in through the window and to George it looks as if the ring was made to be on Y/N’s finger.
Y/N examines the ring up close for the first time as she turns around so George can clasp her necklace back around her neck. It’s simple, but gorgeous and everything she’s ever wanted in an engagement ring. George finally gets the clasp of the necklace closed and Y/N shivers as the cool metal settles against her skin. A moment later George’s warm mouth is pressing kisses into her skin and she lets out a quiet noise.
“I missed you so much,” George murmurs as he turns Y/N back around, kissing her softly. He starts to slowly lay her back against the pillows as their mouths move together, crawling on top of her. “You did such a good job taking care of me, teacup. Now it’s my turn to take care of you.”
George helps Y/N out of her top before he starts to slowly kiss down her neck, his hands slowly rubbing up and down her sides. It’s been far too long since he showed Y/N just how much he loves and appreciates her, and he plans on making up for it now. He moves his lips down her chest, taking one of her nipples between his lips. The tip of his tongue flicks at the sensitive bud for a moment before he sucks on it gently.
“Oh, George,” Y/N moans, tangling one of her hands in his hair. She tugs on it lightly as her hips move off of the bed to grind up against George’s. She can already feel her arousal pooling in her panties and she’s ready for more.
“God you are gorgeous,” George murmurs before capturing Y/N’s other nipple in his mouth and giving it the same treatment as the other. “I don’t deserve you,” he mumbles into her skin as he starts to kiss down her stomach. “You are perfect in every way, Y/N.”
“I love you,” Y/N tells George quietly as he gets rid of her bottoms, lifting her hips up to help him. She shivers as she rests back against the bed, completely bare for him. His gentle touch on her knees makes goosebumps rise on her skin, and she lets out a whine as he spreads her legs open.
“I love you too, teacup. So much. More than anything in the world.” George starts to kiss Y/N’s inner thigh, leading a trail up to her dripping cunt. He pauses to suck a mark onto the inner most part of her thigh, just a few centimeters away from where she needs him most. George brings two fingers to her cunt, spreading her wetness around as he rubs through her folds.
Y/N’s hips grind down against George’s gentle touch, and she tugs on George’s hair when he chuckles. “Please, George. I need you.”
George slips two fingers into Y/N’s cunt as his lips attach to her clit, moaning against her when walls clench around his digits. He sucks on her clit gently, slowly moving his fingers in her, curling them with every push back into her entrance.
“Oh yes, Georgie, fuck. Feels so good,” Y/N groans, her hips starting to grind down against George’s face and hands. She spreads her legs even wider, whining when the fingers of George’s free hand dig into her thigh.
“Such a good girl for me, teacup,” he praises, pressing a wet kiss to her clit. He starts to move his fingers faster, scissoring his fingers to help stretch her and get her ready for his cock. “Making such pretty noises for me, just like you always do.”
Y/N lets out a low moan as George reattaches his mouth to her clit, bringing her free hand up to pinch at her nipples. She can already feel the familiar heat of an orgasm building in her stomach, and her toes curl as George’s tongue starts to trace patterns over her clit. “Love being your good girl, George. Always wanna be your good girl.”
George hums as he sucks Y/N’s clit harder, fucking his fingers back into her cunt harder. Her walls are clenching and twitching around him, and George has to grind his hips against the bed to get some relief on his aching cock.
“So close George, fuck,” Y/N moans, her toes curling as George’s fingers brush her g-spot once again. She can feel shocks of pleasure radiating through her cunt as her orgasm approaches, and she starts to move her hips sloppily, chasing her climax. “Can I cum? Please Georgie, wanna cum. Wanna be a good girl,” she babbles, tugging on George’s hair.
George takes his mouth away from her cunt and starts to rub harsh circles on Y/N’s clit. “Go on, darling. Want you to be a good girl and cum for me.”
With a few more pumps of George’s fingers Y/N is cumming, her thighs trembling as pleasure washes over her in waves. She can see stars behind her eyes, and she doesn’t even realize that she’s moaning loudly until George is kissing her and the room gets infinitely quieter.
George rubs Y/N’s hips soothingly as she comes down from her high, his lips gently pressing to her neck in a series of slow kisses. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you sound when you’re moaning like that for me?” he asks, pulling away so he can look into Y/N’s eyes.
“I could wager a guess,” Y/N responds playfully, pulling George down into a kiss. She slowly starts to sit up as George deepens their kiss, letting out a moan against his mouth. Y/N trails one of her hands down George’s chest to his crotch, palming his erection through the fabric of his sweatpants. “Is this another present in your pants for me?” she teases, nipping at George’s lips.
“Why am I marrying you again?” George teases as he pulls away so he can take his t-shirt off. He gets off the bed then and starts to get rid of his bottoms, pulling them down slowly to tease Y/N.
“Georgie,” Y/N whines at his teasing, jutting her lower lip out into a pout. She gets up onto her knees and wraps one of her hands around the back of George’s neck as the other reaches down to wrap around his cock. Y/N pulls George down into a hot kiss as she starts to stroke him, her thumb swirling around the tip to collect the precum dribbling out, helping her hand to glide easier.
George kicks his bottoms off as Y/N strokes him, moaning into her mouth. “Godric I missed this. Missed you, teacup. I can’t believe I get to have you for the rest of my life.” He crawls back onto the bed as he kisses Y/N again, sitting down with his back against the headboard. His hands settle on Y/N’s hips and he pulls her so that she’s straddling his waist. “You gonna show me how much you missed me too?”
Y/N reaches behind her to grip George’s cock and she lets out a whine as she teases her slit with the tip. She lets George pull her into another kiss as she starts to slowly sink down, but it falls apart as her hips move and her mouth drops open to let out a few pants. “So fucking full,” she groans as their thighs meet, her hips rocking slightly now that George is fully inside of her.
“Fuck your cunt is tight,” George moans, digging his fingers into Y/N’s hips. Her walls are pulsating around him and he can’t help but jut his hips upwards. Being buried inside of Y/N feels like pure ecstasy to George, and it takes all of his restraint not to just flip them over so he can fuck into her hard. “How do I feel, teacup? You like the way my cock fills you up?”
“George,” Y/N moans as she starts to rock in his lap, moving her hips in tight circles as she grinds down into him. She can feel George deep inside of her, and the way his cock brushes her g-spot with every moment causes pleasure to radiate through her core. “Feels good, so good. Missed being,” Y/N pauses to moan as George starts to help guide the movements of her hips. “Missed being full.”
George presses his face into the crook of Y/N’s neck, letting out grunts against her skin as she starts to rock against him quicker. He starts to move his own hips up into her and her walls clamp around him even tighter. “You’re incredible,” he pants, pressing a kiss to her neck. George pulls away so he can look at Y/N leaning in to kiss her briefly. “Feel so fucking good, teacup. Riding me so well, Y/N. Being such a good girl for me.”
Y/N tips her head back and moans as she starts to move faster, desperately trying to cum again. Her clit is grinding against George with every movement and the way he’s stretching her out has gone straight to her head, and Y/N’s mind is clouded with pleasure. Maybe it’s because they haven’t been intimate like this in so long or because they’re engaged now but Y/N feels complete with George inside of her and she never wants it to end as she grinds down against him harder.
“Please George, please,” she begs breathily, digging her fingers into his shoulders.
“What do you want teacup?” George asks as he stats to thrust his hips up harder. Her walls twitch with every movement and he can already feel himself getting close to his release. “Whatever you want it’s yours.”
Y/N tilts her head forward so she can rest their foreheads together. She looks into George’s eyes and a shiver runs down her spine at how dark they are. “Just want you, Georgie. Please.”
George kisses Y/N desperately as he flips them over, pressing Y/N down into the mattress as he starts to slam his hips into her hard. “You’ve got me,” George promises as he brings one of his hands down to her core, starting to rub harsh circles on her clit. He braces himself on a hand above her shoulder and presses their foreheads together again so he can look into her eyes. “Forever, Y/N. I mean it this time. Forever.”
“Oh fuck, George,” Y/N moans as she cums, her legs winding around George’s hips to keep him in place, fucking her deep. Electric shocks of pleasure radiate through her body and her chest starts to heave with deep breaths as the pleasure washes over her.
Y/N’s walls tightening and pulsating around him pushes George over the edge, and he cums too, a cry of her name leaving his lips. He kisses her messily as his cock twitches inside of her, his hips slowly rolling to help them both of them through the tail ends of their orgasms.
“No,” Y/N whines when George moves to pull out, her legs tightening around his waist. “Not yet, George. Wanna be full with you for a bit longer.”
George chuckles and presses a kiss to Y/N’s sweaty forehead, carefully turning them on their sides so they can lay somewhat comfortably, his cock still buried deep inside of her. “Of course, teacup. Anything for you.”
“Forever, yeah?” she murmurs, clenching her walls around George.
He reaches a hand between them and presses the charms of Y/N’s necklace into her skin. “Forever.”
-
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, did you know that Mrs. Weasley?” George asks with a dopey grin as he twirls Y/N around in a circle.
They decided to keep their wedding small. Partially to distract from the fact that Y/N really has no friends or family to invite. But mostly because they don’t need all the theatrics. It’s the middle of June, and the backyard of the Burrow is draped in twinkling lights, making the warm air seem as if it’s glowing as everyone talks or eats or dances. George had suggested they get married as quick as humanly possible. He even tried to convince Y/N that they should just get a marriage license from the ministry and get married right in Shacklebolt’s office before they even had the chance to tell anyone they were engaged.
But Y/N insisted that they have some sort of ceremony with their family. June seemed like the perfect opportunity, since both Ginny and Hermione would be done with school and Fleur would have already given birth to the first Weasley grandchild. Y/N also thought it would give George some more time to deal with his grief.
After he proposed George really did start doing better. He started getting out of bed every day and taking proper care of himself. Y/N encouraged him to reconnect with his family and friends, and they even started leaving the flat together at least once a week. George started seeing a wizard therapist, and as he learned how to identify and deal with his emotions, Y/N watched the light slowly come back to his eyes. By Christmas he was back to joking around again, and he even charmed some mistletoe so that the people who met underneath it wouldn’t be able to move unless they kissed.
In the new year Y/N reenrolled in her Healer training program, and while being by himself again gave George a bit of anxiety, he packed a lunch for her and sent her off with a kiss on the cheek and a smile. And it worked out in the end, because George found himself so stir crazy without Y/N around that he managed to go back down in the joke shop. Y/N ended up finding him sitting in the office when she got home, some of Fred’s old notes clutched in his hand while he cried. She was worried that he would start to move backwards, but when George noticed her presence he opened up to her about how he was feeling instead of pushing her away. He managed to make the trek back down into the shop every day after that and now Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes will be back open for business on July first.
“You’re only saying that because it’s our wedding day, Georgie,” Y/N teases, titling her chin up so he’ll kiss her. George presses their lips together briefly and Y/N rests her head on his shoulder, watching Arthur twirl Molly around on the other side of the dancefloor.
George presses a kiss to the top of Y/N’s forehead before resting his cheek there. “You think that’ll be us in thirty years? Dancing like fools at our kids wedding?”
“I hope so. I reckon we’ll be those proper embarrassing parents, like the kinds who’s kids hate going out with them in public,” Y/N muses with a laugh.
“You mean like your parents?” George asks softly, pulling Y/N into his chest tighter. “Your cheeks were so red the first time I met them I thought you were gonna turn into a tomato.”
Y/N turns her face into George’s chest to hide the pink flush of her cheeks as the memory of George meeting her parents for the first time comes flooding back to the forefront of her mind.
-
“Not another one Mum, please,” Y/N begs before picking up a pillow off of the sofa and shoving her face into it to hide her embarrassment. All her mother does is grin as she comes back into the living room with another album full of pictures from Y/N’s childhood.
It’s easter break for Y/N, and it’s only been a few weeks since George and Fred had their grand exit from Hogwarts. While George has been busy getting ready for the joke shop’s grand opening, he agreed to come to dinner at Y/N’s house so he could finally meet her parents. He was a little nervous leading up to it, unsure of how Y/N’s parents would take to the fact that their daughter is dating a poor blood traitor who’s a recent school dropout, but the second he walked through the door all his worries washed away.
Y/N’s family manor is large, but yet somehow still feels like home. It’s bright and warm and feels lived in. Y/N’s mother had hugged him tightly as soon as he stepped through the door, and her dad playfully fell to his knees to bow down to George, making a joke about how gracious he was that someone fell in love with his smart ass daughter so he wouldn’t have to deal with her for the rest of his life. Y/N was standing just behind him looking as if she wanted the world to just open up and swallow her whole, but George found it hilarious and gave her dad a curtsey in response, telling him that her smart mouth would greatly reduce the dowry he’d be willing to pay.
Even Marjorie their house elf had teased Y/N a bit as she brought them all drinks in the parlor. She said something about how the photo Y/N keeps of George under her pillow certainly did not do him justice as he’s much more handsome in person and Y/N’s cheeks went so red it was as if she had spent hours outside in the cold. They had only been sitting down for a few minutes when the first photo album came out, and now George is about to start flicking through the fifth.
George laughs as he takes the book from Y/N’s Mum, trading her for the one he just finished flipping through. “Oh, come on, love. It’s only fair. Ginny tells you embarrassing stories about me all the time.”
“Yeah, pumpkin. It could be worse, I could have Marjorie go dig the old Muggle video player out and we could pop some of the home movies into it,” her Dad teases.
Y/N groans at that and she puts the pillow down so she can glare at her father. “Fine, fine, the photos can stay.” She leans her head against George’s shoulder as he starts to flip through the book, and she just barely sees her Mum bring the camera out from behind her back before she’s taking a picture. “Mum! We talked about this, you promised no photos!”
“Oh, come on, one photo never hurt anybody. You’ll be thankful I took this photo someday when you’re old and fondly reminiscing about your youth to your grandkids,” Y/N’s mother says, putting the camera down. “And it’ll be a nice visual aid when I tell the story about how embarrassed we made you tonight at your wedding.”
“Can we not with the wedding talk? George and I are barely eighteen.” Y/N hides her face in George’s neck, her cheeks heating up even further when George chuckles and turns his head so he can kiss her on the temple. Both of her parents let out an aw, and she picks up the nearest pillow to throw at them.
George laughs as Y/N faceplants onto her bed later that night. They’ve just finished dinner with her parents, and Y/N snuck them upstairs when her Mum went to go find another old photo album. “You regretting asking me to come to dinner?” he asks, sitting down next to Y/N.
She turns her head so she can glare at George, but it quickly turns soft when he starts to rub her lower back. “They promised me they’d be on their best behavior. Clearly they lied.”
“It’s cute, that they embarrass you or whatever. Clearly they love you a lot,” George responds softly, giving her a reassuring smile. “How much of our wedding do you think your Mum has planned?” he teases with a chuckle.
“Don’t joke about that, George. Knowing her the answer is probably the whole thing,” Y/N answers with a giggle. She rolls over onto her back so she can look up at George, letting one of her hands reach up to run through his hair. “I hope they didn’t scare you away with all of their baby photos.”
“Darling if Daphne Greengrass’ iciest glare doesn’t scare me a few photos of you with some missing teeth is nothing,” George reassures her. “Your Mum even had me mark some of my favorites for her to include in the wedding slideshow when you went to the loo.”
Y/N groans and places one of her pillows over her face, before deciding to hit George with it when he laughs at her pain.
-
“They were quite embarrassing. Though I wish we could have seen the slide show my Mum was gonna make. Bet your Mum would have added a fair few photos of you to the mix,” Y/N points out, grinning up at George.
George leans down and presses a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “And half of them would have been of Fred I reckon, we were even harder to tell apart when we were babies.” He lets out a quiet sigh and kisses Y/N’s forehead again. “I wish he was here.”
“I know, Georgie.” Y/N squeezes George tighter for a moment, letting her eyes wander around the backyard. Ginny has a very excited Teddy Lupin on her shoulders, with both Harry and Andromeda laughing as the toddler’s face and hair changes into something new every few seconds. Bill and Fleur are in the corner trying to coax a restless Victorie to sleep and Charlie and Lee are taking shots together at one end of the bar. Percy is standing at the other end of it with Ron and Hermione, telling them a story about his new girlfriend, Audrey. “Percy did a pretty good job though, as best man. Don’t you think?”
Turns out the hardest decision in wedding planning was figuring out who the best man would be. Ginny was the natural choice for maid of honor, but it took George weeks to pick out his best man. Both Ron and Harry volunteered themselves for the role, and spent more time arguing with each other over why George should pick them rather than trying to convince George why they were the best choice. Charlie actually took himself out of the running, since he’d been Bill’s best man and didn’t want to take the opportunity away from another brother. And Lee was pretty chill about the whole thing, he was perfectly happy just to be the one in charge of the DJing.
Percy had been shocked when George asked him. Despite the fact that Percy had really tried to step back into the family after the war everyone could tell he still felt awkward. He was always the first to head home after family dinners, and the one who opted to sit on the single armchair rather than pile up with the others on one of the couches. At Christmas after he opened his Weasley sweater he excused himself to the bathroom, and they all pretended not to notice the red rims of his eyes when he came back. He always waited for someone to address him before he spoke, as if he thought no one cared about what he had to say. Most notably he always braced himself when someone brought up Fred, as if he was waiting for someone to shout at him for failing to save his brother.
But George had reassured him endlessly that he was the only person he wanted to stand up there with him while he promised Y/N forever. For one because Percy had been there for George during a time when he needed him most, and he gave George the push he needed to make things right with Y/N. George also ended up admitting later that him choosing Percy to be his best man would have annoyed Fred endlessly, and it made him feel like he was pulling one final prank on his brother.
George hums as he nods, letting go of Y/N briefly so he can twirl her around, before bringing her back against his chest. “Who knew he could be so funny? I’m pretty sure Ron nearly threw up from how hard he was laughing. It’s nice to see him be comfortable around everyone again. Feels like it did before, you know. That’s what I wanted, when I chose him. For him to feel like family again.”
“That’s actually really sweet of you, George. I’m sure Percy appreciates it,” Y/N murmurs, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Well it was either let him be the best man or name one of our kids after him, and I’m not sure I like the ring of Percy ll,” George says with a laugh.
Y/N rolls her eyes at that. “I’m revoking your naming privileges, George. You’re not allowed to name any of our eight ginger babies.”
“Eight? I thought we agreed on seven?” George asks with a soft chuckle.
“Well I decided I want eight. And a few hours ago, you stood up in front of our friends and family and promised to spend the rest of forever making me happy so it’s too late to take it all back,” Y/N states matter of factly, sticking her tongue out at George.
George shakes his head fondly and leans down to kiss Y/N slowly. “Fine, fine. Eight it is. Though we better start thinking about moving out of the flat then. Because if my height is anything to go by we’re gonna have some big babies, and I reckon we can only fit two or three of ‘em above Wheezes. And with the way you look tonight there’s no way there won’t be at least one more Weasley grandchild on the way when I’m done ravishing you.”
-
“How long do we have to wait?” George asks with a groan, flopping down onto the mattress.
“Three minutes. Same as when I told you before,” Y/N responds with an eye roll, throwing the empty pregnancy test box at George.
Despite George’s comments on their wedding night, it took them several months to even talk about getting pregnant. Once the joke shop reopened business was as good as ever. Even now eight months after reopening the store is still so busy that George has to sometimes eat his lunch while working the till or filling out paperwork. And once Y/N completed her Healer training she got stuck working the graveyard shift, so often the only time she and George saw each other was when one of them was coming home from work as the other was on their way to work.
Thankfully after a few months of hazing Y/N was switched to a much more reasonable shift, and she was back to spending most of her nights at home with George. It was then that they started discussing the next steps of their future, and both of them were set in the fact that they wanted to have a baby sooner rather than later. But they both decided to wait just a bit longer, until they had bought a house. Because even though they both love the flat above the joke shop, it’s just not big enough for a growing family.
Fred’s room hasn’t been touched since the Battle of Hogwarts. Y/N knows George has gone in there a few times, on the days when he misses his brother the most. But nothing has been moved or tidied up. There’re still shoes, and clothes and random papers all strewn about that George just hasn’t had the heart to get rid of. Y/N figures it helps George feel like Fred is still close by, so she doesn’t push him to clear it out. Except their bedroom in the flat was too small to have all the stuff needed for a baby, so they decided that a house would come before their family.
But as it turns out, there’s a possibility they’re happening at the same time. It took them a few months to find the right house, and with Y/N’s inheritance from her parents they were able to buy a nice piece of land out in the country with a beautiful house with enough room for the large family they both want. There’s a great little pond and a tire swing, and enough room for a Quidditch pitch too.
And Y/N had figured her missed period was due to the stress of the move. But a few days ago, she woke up from a dream covered in a cold sweat that made her start to think otherwise. Fred was there. He was in the field behind her and George’s new house running around in the warm summer sunshine, chasing after a little boy. And when the little boy finally turned to look at her, Y/N felt like she couldn’t breathe. His hair was the same color as her own, but his face was all George. The same deep brown eyes, the same light freckles dotted on the same pale skin. It was uncanny really, and when the boy finally noticed her he called her Mum and started running towards her. Just before Y/N could wrap her arms around him she woke up, her heart pounding and the image of the little boy still fresh in her mind. She decided then it was time to take a test.
“What a great way to spend the first night in our new house eh?” George asks with a nervous laugh, patting the spot on the mattress next to him.
“Certainly not the way I imagined us breaking in the new house,” Y/N responds with a laugh as she settles down on the mattress with him, the pregnancy test clutched in her hand. They barely have any furniture set up and their mattress is laying on the ground and yet they may need to start planning for a nursery.
George takes the pregnancy test from Y/N’s hand and puts it face down on the bed before he takes her face in his hands and kisses her softly. “I love you, teacup. And whether this test is positive or not I can’t wait to start our family.”
“I love you too, Georgie.” Y/N lets her eyes flutter shut as George presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, unable to stop herself from thinking about the time she and George first talked about having children.
-
“You still awake down there, teacup?” George whispers into the still air. He didn’t want to say anything and after falling asleep next to Y/N for the past year he’s gotten pretty good at telling if she’s asleep by the pace of her breathing. But the bandage wrapped around his right ear is making it hard to hear, and he needs to know if Y/N is still awake or not.
Y/N’s head pops up immediately and she looks over at George. “What’s wrong? Does your head hurt? It is bleeding?”
George chuckles and shakes his head, shutting his eyes when the room starts to spin. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just an idiot, give me a minute.” Once George can no longer feel his heartbeat in his temples he opens his eyes and gives Y/N a reassuring smile. “Will you stop fussing? Mum’s done enough of that for you tonight.”
“I can’t help it, George. I thought you were gonna die.” Y/N’s voice cracks as the final word of her sentence falls from her lips, and she can feel the tears welling in her eyes.
The Battle of the seven Harrys had been a shitshow from the moment they left the ground. Y/N was riding a Thestral with Ron, and from the second they took off Death Eaters were everywhere. Luckily Ron is pretty talented with his defensive spell casting, and all Y/N really had to focus on was flying them back to the Burrow safely. Which was good, because the fight she’d gotten into with George earlier in the evening was still weighing heavily on her mind.
She wasn’t even supposed to be there. The original plan had been that Y/N would stay behind at The Burrow with Ginny and Molly, that way if anyone came back injured she’d be there to help assist Molly with any healing. But then Tonks announced that she’s pregnant and Y/N made Mad Eye Moody change the plan so Y/N could take her place during the actual mission. Which George was not happy about and they left the Burrow for Privet Drive still fuming from their fight.
“Teacup,” George coos, reaching out to stroke Y/N’s cheek. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” he teases, trying to get her to crack a smile. “Snivellous has wanted to take me out for years I reckon, it was only a matter of time before he tried.”
Y/N turns her head so she can kiss George’s palm lightly. “That’s not funny, George. You really could have died.”
“And you could have as well, Y/N,” George reminds her.
“Better me than Tonks,” Y/N mumbles, looking down at the floor.
“Don’t say that,” George responds firmly, gripping Y/N’s chin so he can make her look at him. There are tears spilling down her cheek, and George lets go of her chin so he can wipe them away with his thumb. Even in the dim light of the living room Y/N looks breathtakingly beautiful, and just the thought of living without her makes his stomach lurch. “Tonks is a big girl and would have been just fine going on the mission.”
“What if it was me? Hm?” Y/N asks, looking at George expectantly. “What if I was the pregnant one about to go on a mission that could kill me? Kill our unborn child? Wouldn’t you want someone to take my place?”
“Of course, I would, Y/N,” George chokes out around the few tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s not really sure when they started pouring out, but he imagines it was when Y/N mentioned their unborn child and death in the same breath. “But this is different.”
Y/N shakes her head. “How? How is Tonks being pregnant any different?”
“Because Tonks isn’t the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, Y/N. She’s not the person who I want to carry my children or raise my children with. It’s you.” George reaches down and grabs the charms of the necklace he gave Y/N, rubbing them between his thumb and his pointer finger. “When I gave you this necklace and promised you forever I meant it, teacup. I wanna marry you and have babies with you. And I can’t do that with you if you’re dead, can I?”
“You really think about all that stuff?” Y/N asks through her sniffles, her tone full of a mixture of surprise and disbelief. While she knows that her and George were both on the same page about starting a life together someday, she had no idea he was thinking that seriously about it. They’re just barely nineteen, and Y/N figured marriage and babies were far away in their future, so far away that they would never even cross George’s mind.
George motions for Y/N to come up and lay on the couch with him. “I’m not going to break. Get up here. I wanna hold you, teacup.” Once Y/N is settled on his chest, her head on his shoulder and their legs intertwined he continues. “Sometimes I can’t stop thinking about all that stuff. Like how we’re gonna get married someday. And live on a load of land somewhere. With some chickens and a dog. And a few ginger babies of course, can’t forget about them.”
Just George talking about them having children spikes Y/N’s heart rate, and she has to take a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down. “How many ginger babies are we gonna have?”
“Hm, I reckon maybe two or three? A boy first, and then a girl. And then I think another girl would be nice,” George explains, starting to slowly rub Y/N’s back. “Why, teacup? How many do you want?”
“At least four,” Y/N says seriously, tilting her head so she can look at George. “Two of each. Maybe even a set of twins. A mini Fred and George perhaps.”
George chuckles and leans down to kiss Y/N softly. “Really? You sure you could handle another set of me and Fred? We gave you quite a bit of hell back in our school days if you remember correctly.”
“Yeah and look at where we are now. Laying on a couch together talking about all the babies we’re gonna have,” Y/N points out with a chuckle. “Besides can you imagine McGonagall’s face when two mini versions of you show up at Hogwarts one day? Bet she’d quit on the spot.”
“Oh come on, good old Minnie loved us. And let’s not forget you caused a bit of trouble as well, Y/N. Just the thought of planting a garden still gives me nightmares after you dropped that load of Dragon Dung fertilizer on Fred and I,” George reminds her with a laugh.
“And you made my hair turn yellow for weeks! And made my tongue nearly explode,” Y/N counters. “You want me to list more? Because I can list more.”
“No it’s okay, I get the point.” George just sits there quietly for a moment, enjoying the feeling of Y/N’s weight on top of him. “Just promise me you’ll be careful out there, yeah? Can’t have our four ginger babies without you, Y/N.”
Y/N pulls George’s mouth down to hers again for a few moments. “You too, George. You’re kind of the whole ginger in the situation, so you’re pretty essential in the mix.”
“I promise,” George mumbles, pressing one more kiss to Y/N’s mouth.
-
“You think it’s been three minutes yet?” George whispers, bringing Y/N’s mind back to the present.
“Probably,” she responds, looking up at George. Y/N reaches up and touches his cheek softly. “You wanna do the honors?”
George reaches his hand out and grabs the pregnancy test, keeping it flipped upside down. “How about we look together?” When Y/N nods George brings the test in between them and he uses his free hand to grab one of hers. “On the count of three, yeah? One, two three.”
As soon as the last number leaves George’s mouth he flips the test over to look at the results. There’s two dark pink lines staring back at them, and her and George look back up at each other.
“What did the two lines mean again?” Y/N asks.
George frowns. “I was gonna ask you the same thing.”
They both start to throw their blankets and pillows away, trying to find where the box landed after Y/N threw it at George a few minutes ago. “Why didn’t you just buy the one with the words? You had to get the one you need a diagram to figure out.”
“I was overwhelmed, okay? I’ve never been in a muggle pharmacy before and there was like 25 different tests and I couldn’t tell the difference between them all and I just grabbed one at random,” George huffs. He feels his fingers skim over the cardboard box and his eyes light up as he grabs it. “Aha! Here it is!” George skims his eyes over the directions on the back a few times to make sure he fully understands them. “Two lines means pregnant.”
They both let out a small gasp as their eyes drop back down to the test still clutched in Y/N’s hand. The two lines look even more defined now that they know what it means, and when they make eye contact again there are tears pooling in both of their eyes.
“We’re pregnant?” Y/N asks breathily.
“Well I don’t know how pregnant I am. But you’re definitely pregnant,” George teases with a grin.
Y/N rolls her eyes and shoves George’s shoulder before she grabs it and pulls him into a kiss. “Can’t believe I’m having a baby with an idiot like you,” she mumbles between kisses.
“And I can’t believe I’m having a baby with a meanie like you,” George responds playfully, placing his hand on Y/N’s stomach. He spreads his fingers and presses down lightly, as if there’s something there for him to feel already. “I love you,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against Y/N’s.
“You talking to me or the baby?” she asks quietly, placing her hand on top of George’s.
“Both.”
-
Fred Weasley ll comes into the world amidst a flurry of chaos, and it only feels right considering who his namesake is.
The day started out like any other. With her maternity leave in full effect, Y/N decided to head to the joke shop with George. While she can’t do much of anything besides sit behind the till and ring customers out, it made her feel good to be helpful rather than just sitting around the house twiddling her thumbs waiting for George to get home. And she knew George liked the fact that he could keep an eye on her throughout the day.
The pain started not too long after opening. At first she just passed it off as normal pregnancy pains, because she was nearly full term and she couldn’t remember the last time she didn��t have a dull ache radiating through some part of her body. But by midafternoon the pain was radiating through her back and down into her pelvis and not even sitting down eased it. She tried to hide it from George, not wanting him to go into full panic mode during the workday. But then he noticed her wincing as she sat back down after lunch and George started keeping an annoyingly close eye on her.
And then her water broke. George was cleaning up around the checkout counter and some dust that had been kicked up irritated Y/N’s nose and she couldn’t help but sneeze hard. When the liquid first started to leak out she was mortified, figuring she’d just pissed herself. But then she stood up and a large flush of liquid came out along with the largest pain she’d ever felt in her lower half. Y/N and George had just stared at each other for a moment, before realization hit them both. Clearly this baby was coming and coming soon.
George had one of the shop employees send an owl to his Mum while he helped Y/N up the stairs, wanting to Floo them over to St. Mungo’s as quickly as possible. Every few steps they’d had to stop so Y/N could breathe through a contraction, and by the time they reached the fireplace in their old flat George was surprised the baby hadn’t slipped out yet. Except when he reaches into the bowl on the mantle to grab some Floo Powder his fingers didn’t find anything.
They’d had to shuffle their way through Diagon Alley to use the public Floo at the Leaky Cauldron, and by the time they reached St. Mungo’s Y/N was already on the verge of giving birth and both she and George were soaked to the bone from the torrential downpour the sky unleashed halfway through their journey.
Baby Fred was born as thunder started to rumble, and he let out his first cry just as a flash of lightening came crashing down. Y/N is sure both she and George were crying harder than the rain that was going on outside. Fred’s eyes were already open when the Healer placed him on Y/N’s chest, and he was blinking up at her with wide brown eyes. He was already the spitting image of his Father, but the tufts of hair coming out of his head more resembled the color of Y/N’s hair. And while Y/N has never been particularly confident in the magic of Divination, she felt deep in her chest that he was the little boy she’d seen in her dream.
“What’s on your mind, Dad?” Y/N asks George quietly with a grin. It’s well past midnight, and little baby Fred is sleeping soundly against Y/N’s chest. George has been sitting in the chair next to Y/N’s hospital bed for the past hour watching their son’s chest rise up and down slowly, a look of concentration on his face.
“You sure it’s okay we named him after Fred?” George asks, looking up at Y/N. “We could have named him after your Dad. I didn’t even think about that. I should have thought about that.”
Y/N chuckles and pats the edge of her bed carefully, inviting George to come and sit with her. “Can I tell you about a dream I had? I think it might make you feel better.”
“Was it a sexy dream?” George asks with a raise of his eyebrows as he comes and sits down with Y/N. He rests one of his hands on Fred’s back, lightly stroking it with his thumb.
“No, it was not a sexy dream you oaf,” Y/N responds with an eye roll. “It was a couple nights before we moved, before I knew I was pregnant. It was summertime, and I was out in the backyard at the house. And Fred was there. He was chasing this little boy around in that field, the one we turned into the Quidditch pitch. And the little boy, he had my color hair but his face, his face was all you George. And then he called me Mum, and ran towards me, but I woke up before he got to me.”
George just sits there for a moment, letting Y/N’s words sink in. He suddenly feels overcome with emotion as he thinks about what she said, and he has to wipe away a few of the tears that escape his eyes. “That’s funny you say that, because I had a similar dream to that the night we found out you were pregnant.”
Y/N raises her eyebrows as she looks at George. “Really? What happened?”
“I was back at the Burrow. It was empty, quiet. But I could hear a creaking noise. And I followed it all the way up the stairs, to Fred and I’s old room. It looked the same, except there was a rocking chair in the corner. And Fred was sitting in it, and he was rocking back and forth, holding a baby. We made eye contact, but he didn’t say anything. He just gave me a little wink and then I woke up.”
“I don’t know a lot about divination or dream analysis. I don’t really know if I believe in any of it either. But I have a feeling we had those dreams for a reason,” Y/N explains, reaching up to cup one of George’s cheeks. “Like that was Fred, I dunno. Hand picking his name sake or something. Someone just as mischievous as him. A little pay back for Percy being your best man, perhaps?”
George laughs quietly and reaches a hand up to grab Y/N’s intertwining their fingers and giving them a soft squeeze. “You know what, teacup. I think you’re right. I have a feeling we’re in for a wild ride. And I can’t wait.”
-
And what a wild ride it is.
By the time George and Y/N are celebrating their 10-year wedding anniversary their house is steadily filling up with kids and with all the trouble they get into it’s a good thing George pushed Y/N to fulfill her dreams of being a Healer. It seems every day at least one of their kids is getting injured in some way: a scraped knee, a bump on the head, a bit of smoke inhalation from a whizbang George let Fred set off inside of the house. With how wild and unpredictable their kids are every day is an adventure, even the most mundane family days always seem to end up with something unexpected getting thrown into the mix.
“Mum! Mum! Can you open this for me? Please?” Fred asks excitedly, holding a candy bar up to Y/N’s face.
She eyes him wearily, taking it from him slowly. “Did your Dad say you could have this?”
Fred grins up at Y/N, and he looks so much like his Dad that it melts her heart. “Well he didn’t say no.” When Y/N narrows her eyes at him he lets out a giggle. “He was in the middle of filling something out and he told me to ask you.”
It’s a Saturday, so the whole family is at the joke shop together. Once Fred was born George hated having to leave him and Y/N at home when he went into the shop, so she started tagging along with the baby. It was a nice way for them to spend time together as a family, and when Y/N went back to work and the weekend became their only full family days it seemed natural for her and Fred to tag along with George to work. Now several years and a few more kids later, it’s still Y/N’s favorite family tradition.
“And so, you decided to ask me if you could have the candy bar, by asking me to open it?” Y/N asks with a laugh.
“Well if you said yes to opening it, that kinda already answers the whole, can I have it question,” Fred reasons.
Y/N rolls her eyes fondly and tears open the candy bar. “Nine years old and you’re already trying to out smart me. I’m so proud of you.” She leans down to press a kiss to his messy hair before handing him the sweet. “Share that with your sister, yeah? It’s 10 am I don’t need you on a full sugar rush already.”
“Thanks Mum!”
Fred runs off just as George comes up and he watches his son disappear with a fond shake of his head. “Oh to be young and have energy,” he muses with a grin, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist.
“Please, you still have plenty of energy left. Or have you forgotten how we got into this mess?” Y/N asks with a grin, pointing down at her bump. In just a few short weeks their family will be growing by two more, and Y/N is already exhausted just thinking about having to run after five kids.
“Oh trust me, I definitely remember how I got us into that mess,” George responds cheekily, leaning down to kiss Y/N sweetly. Luckily the store has been pretty slow so far, and they can spend the next few moments moving their lips together softly, just enjoying being in each other’s presence.
“Ew, gross,” Freya giggles, standing up on her tiptoes so she can peer at her parents over the checkout counter.
Y/N pulls away from George’s mouth with a sigh, turning her head to look at their youngest. All that’s visible over the counter is her wide eyes and the mess of fiery red curls on the top of her head. “Can we help you with something, nugget?”
Freya’s head disappears then and a few seconds later she reappears next to George’s leg, raising her arms up and bouncing on her toes. “Up please!”
“Ah, the Queen has made her demands!” George announces playfully. He gives Y/N a wink before letting her go, and he leans down to grab Freya, placing her on his shoulders. “Is this high enough for you, my Queen?” he asks, tickling her sides lightly.
“Daddy!” Freya squeals between her giggles, trying to get away from George’s attack. “No more, no more!”
George chuckles and gives her one more tickle. “Alright, alright, no more tickles.” The bell above the door jingles then and George leans down to give Y/N one final kiss. “Duty calls. I love you, teacup.”
“Love you too, Georgie.” Y/N reaches up and tugs on one of Freya’s curls. Despite the fact that she’s only three and has quite a bit of hair they’ve yet to cut any of it, and Y/N watches the long curl bounce back into place when she lets it go. “See you in a bit, nugget.”
Freya gives a little salute as George starts to head towards the customer before tangling her hands in his hair and pulling on them as if she were pulling on reins. “Horsey, horsey!”
George actually starts to move as if he were galloping, and Y/N shakes her head fondly as their daughter starts to laugh.
The store starts to pick up then, and for a few hours it seems like there’s a never-ending stream of people filtering through the door. Every once in a while Y/N gets a glimpse of George over the crowds of people, since Freya is still happily sitting on his shoulders, and every now and again Y/N watches the crowd part as Fred or Roxanne run through it.
They’ve just opened back up after shutting down for lunch, and Y/N has her back to the shop as she sorts through some of the mail. She turns around at the sound of someone clearing their throat and her heart drops into her stomach.
“Daphne. Hi,” she greets quietly, stepping back up to the counter.
It’s been over a decade since she last saw her old best friend, but the memory of their last conversation comes flooding back to her as if it took place yesterday.
-
“I can’t believe you’re moving in with George Weasley,” Daphne muses with a grin as she watches Y/N pack a few things away.
It’s been just over a month since they graduated from Hogwarts, and with her Healer training starting soon, Y/N decided to take George up on his offer to move into the flat above the joke shop with him and Fred. Now that they’re both transitioning into adulthood, their free time to spend together is sparse, and even though taking this next step is scary Y/N can’t wait to be officially living with George.
“I know, right? This time last year all I could think about was getting revenge on him and Fred for turning my hair yellow. And now all I can think about is the fact that I get to wake up next to him every morning,” Y/N admits with a soft blush.
“Just George and his little teacup,” Daphne teases, laughing wildly when Y/N throws a pillow at her.
Ginny had once jokingly suggested Y/N get a teacup pin after she noticed the teapot pin Y/N bought for George, since they’re always together and Y/N is so much smaller than George. After that day George’s new nickname for Y/N became teacup. And while she pretends that it annoys her, deep down she actually really loves it.
“You’re one to talk, Daph. It’s only what? A month until the wedding?” Y/N points out with a laugh. The smile on Daphne’s face falters and Y/N gives her a look. “What’s up? You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”
Daphne shakes her head as she sits up, giving Y/N a look. “No, of course not. I like to give Marcus a lot of shit pretty much all the time, but I really do love him. There’s just something I wanna talk to you about.”
“Oh?” Y/N asks quietly, sitting down across from her. There are very few things Daphne gets flustered over, and with the look she has on her face Y/N can tell she’s about to say something serious.
“You um. You can’t come. To the wedding,” Daphne stutters out, casting her gaze downwards. “Adrian said he’s not coming if you do and he’s Marcus’ best friend and I just want our wedding to be perfect and I know he’ll be upset if Adrian doesn’t come.”
Y/N can feel tears start to form in the corners of her eyes and she quickly tries to blink them away. “What? Daphne we’ve been best friends since we were eleven. You’re not going to be upset that I’m not there?”
“No of course I am! Y/N you know you’re like a sister to me. But Marcus is going to be my husband and it’s my job to do everything in my power to make him happy,” Daphne responds, reaching out to grab Y/N’s hand.
But Y/N pulls away and stands up. “Daph, it’s your wedding day too. You should have a say in who gets to be there.” Y/N pauses and just looks at Daphne, thinking about all the things they’ve been through together over the past seven years. “You’re really going to choose Adrian over me?”
“You chose George over us,” Daphne reminds her, finally making eye contact with Y/N again.
“That was different Daphne and you know that. I put space between me and Adrian because he was breaking the boundaries of our friendship and it was making George uncomfortable. And it was clearly the right decision since he kissed me and tried to get me to leave George at graduation.” Y/N sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “George didn’t force me to do anything, Marcus is clearly forcing you to do this.”
Daphne rolls her eyes. “Marcus isn’t forcing me to do anything, I’m just doing my duty as his future wife.”
“That’s a bunch of crap and you know it. If Marcus really loved you he wouldn’t let some stupid drama from school get in the way of you being just as happy as he is,” Y/N responds firmly.
Daphne stands up then, her expression angry. “Don’t act so high and mighty, Y/N. Just because you have ambitions outside of being someone’s wife or a mother doesn’t mean you’re any better than I am.”
“Well at least when I get married I’ll be an equal in the relationship, rather than my husband’s little pet for him to boss around,” Y/N spits.
“You know what? Fuck you. You’re not welcome at my wedding. Or in my life in general.” Daphne grabs her bag and starts to storm out of Y/N’s bedroom.
“Who said I wanted to be in your life anyway?” Y/N shouts at Daphne’s back, listening to the sound of the front door slamming shut echo through the house.
-
“Oh. Um, hi, Y/N. I didn’t know that you worked here,” Daphne responds awkwardly, placing the few things in her arms down on the counter.
“Oh, I don’t work here, not really. I just come in on Saturdays, with the kids. It’s a good way for us to spend time together as a family.” Y/N starts to key the products into the register, not really sure what to say. The air between her and Daphne is awkward, and Y/N can see Marcus fidgeting a few feet behind Daphne, looking at some things on a shelf with a little boy. “These for your son?”
Daphne spares a glance over her shoulder at her son and Marcus, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “No, they’re for Adrian’s son. It’s his birthday today, we’re having dinner with them tonight. Although MJ does love his fair share of Weasley products.” She pauses, letting her eyes flick down to Y/N’s bump for a moment. “Is that your first?”
“Four and five actually,” Y/N responds with a laugh. She gestures to where George is standing talking with one of the employees, Freya back on his shoulders. “That’s number three over there, Freya and funnily enough she also happens to be three. And over there,” Y/N pauses gesturing to the pygmy puff cage where a little girl with curly hair the same color as Y/N’s is happily petting a little black puff. “is Roxanne, number two. She just turned six and has spent the past few weeks trying to convince us to let her take home another pygmy puff.”
Y/N scans the store for a moment, trying to find Fred. When her eyes finally land on him he has his knees hooked around a rung of the ladder George uses to reach products on the upper shelves, and he’s hanging upside down with a toothy grin. “Fred Weasley ll you get off that ladder right now! You’ve already cracked your skull open once this year and I am not cleaning up anymore of your blood.” Fred laughs wildly as he climbs down, and Y/N shakes her head as she looks back to Daphne.
“That’ll be Fred, our oldest. He’s only a few years off from Hogwarts, and is it bad if I say I’m looking forward to it just a little bit?” Y/N asks with a small laugh.
Daphne laughs as well, grabbing her wallet to pay for their stuff. “Oh trust me, I’m right there with you. I don’t know how you do it, we’ve just got MJ and I feel like I can barely keep up with him. I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet when he’s off at school.”
“George is a great help, I don’t think I could do it without him. He loves being a Dad, and he’s pretty good at it too.” Y/N hands Daphne her bag and gives her a final smile. “Thanks for coming by. It was nice to see you.”
Roxanne comes up just as Daphne and Marcus leave the store with their son and pulls up a chair so she can climb up onto the counter, being careful not to let the black pygmy puff on her head fall off. “Who was that, Mummy?”
“Just a girl I was friends with, back when I was at Hogwarts,” Y/N responds sadly, tucking a stray curl behind Roxanne’s ear.
“Oh. You’re not friends anymore?” Roxanne asks with a frown.
Y/N shakes her head and leans forward to press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “No, not anymore. But that’s okay. We used to have loads and loads of fun together, and now I get to have loads and loads of fun with you and your siblings and your Dad.”
“I can’t wait to make tons of friends when I’m at Hogwarts. It’s so not fair that Freddie gets to go sooner than me.” Roxanne pauses, giving Y/N a cheeky grin. “Do you think if I snuck on the train they’d just let me stay?”
“Hmm, I don’t know love. Why don’t you give it a try when it’s time for Freddie to go?”
Roxanne giggles as Y/N presses a kiss to her forehead and she gives her mother an excited look when she pulls away. “Oh trust me, I’m planning on it.”
-
“You think she’s going to try and sneak onto the train?” George asks, leaning over to whisper in Y/N’s ear.
They’re heading towards the entrance to Platform 9 and ¾’s to send Fred off on his very first train ride to Hogwarts. Despite the fact that it’s been over two years since Roxanne first divulged her plan to sneak to Hogwarts with her older brother, she still hasn’t forgotten about it, and she had reminded Y/N and George of her plan last night when they tucked her into bed.
“I dunno, but I don’t think it would be a bad thing to keep an extra close eye on her,” Y/N responds with a chuckle. Roxanne and Freya are walking out in front of everyone, holding hands and twirling each other around. Their curls flounce as they move, and as if she can tell they’re talking about her, Roxanne looks back at her parents and gives them a wink.
Fred is in the middle, pushing his cart along all by himself. He insisted that he could handle it on his own, since he’s going to be off at Hogwarts, and even though Y/N can tell he’s struggling a bit the grin on his face keeps her from intervening. Not that she or George would be much help. Archer and Leo, their twins, are two now, and George has one attached to each leg, giggling wildly as he walks and Y/N has a baby wrap tied around her torso, with their three-month-old daughter Scarlet laying in it fast asleep.
When they reach the wall between platforms nine and ten, Roxanne and Freya pause, looking back at their parents.
“Can we go?” Roxanne asks hopefully, mischief in her eyes.
George laughs and shakes his head. “Let your Mum and Freddie go first, yeah? You two can go through with me after.”
Roxanne pouts but steps aside, nonetheless, pulling Freya to her side as Y/N comes to stand next to Fred. She puts one of her hands on his shoulder, and the other on the handle of the cart. “Ready?” she asks, looking at her son.
“More than ready,” Fred responds with a laugh.
They push through the barrier together, and the platform looks just the same as Y/N remembers. It’s bustling with people as per usual and as George and the girls join them they navigate through the crowd to try and find a spot to say goodbye.
Once Fred’s things are loaded onto the train, Freya and Roxanne are the first to hug him goodbye, but they’re both too entranced by the Platform and the train to really care that they won’t see him for the next few months. Archer and Leo are too busy chasing each other around the small area to care, but Fred grabs them both and presses a kiss to their heads before letting them toddle off after each other again.
George pulls him into a hug first, and his hands shake as a few tears slip down his cheeks. “Love you so much, bud. You’re gonna have so much fun, I promise. Your Mum tried to take it out, but I slipped that box of Wheeze products into your trunk this morning. Just send an owl when you’re getting low and I’ll send more.” He pulls away so he can look at Fred, and the bright look in his eyes reminds him so much of him and Fred when they were that age he has to take a moment to calm himself down. “I’m handing the prank torch down to you, and I know it’ll be in good hands.”
By the time Y/N is pulling Fred into a hug there are tears fully falling down her cheeks and they fall into his hair when she brings him in as close as she can. “Don’t get into too much trouble, yeah? But have fun and learn a lot, that’s kinda the whole point.” She pulls away to press a lingering kiss to his forehead and runs her hand through his wild hair. “And don’t be too hard on the Slytherins, yeah? Your future wife might just be one of them.”
“Ew,” Fred responds, scrunching up his nose.
Y/N laughs and presses one more kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Fred. Write loads, yeah?”
“All the time,” Fred promises. He reaches into the wrap to give his littlest sister a kiss on the head before he steps back to look at both of his parents. “Bye, love you guys.”
“Hang on, one more thing.” Fred pauses and looks up at George, watching as he takes the teapot pin off of the lapel of his jacket. “A piece of me and mum for you to have with you, yeah?”
It’s the first time Y/N has seen George without it and the tears streaming down her face fall harder as he pins it to their son’s sweater. Almost subconsciously she reaches up to grab at the charms of her necklace, letting their familiar texture soothe her as she watches Fred climb up onto the train.
Forever seemed like a long time when Y/N and George first promised it to each other on that journey back to Hogwarts all those years ago. But now, watching that same train carry their first born away as their other kids laugh and play around them it just doesn’t seem like enough.
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Soaked
Iwaizumi, Kita, Terushima reacting to their s/o squirting.
Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader
Kita Shinsuke x Reader
Terushima Yuuji x Reader
Enjoy, Anon~~ I usually am really fair with my writing and make each scenario and shit relatively the same amount of words but,,,,,,, today..... I was not able to that..... I apologize. Anyway, I am never going to stop writing about getting eaten out by Terushima so take that.
SMUT // NSFW
WC- 1,645
~~~
Iwaizumi Hajime
Truthfully, I was only going to write Kita and Terushima…. I had the entire writing done and then I went to Tiktok for a break and saw a beautiful clip of my baby boy Hajime and then decided I must write for him
So,,,, here we are. THE Iwaizumi Hajime who has everyone falling in love on spot, the original hottie, the best ace who I would destroy the entire world for, my sweet baby boy
Iwaizumi is so shy and blushy even though we know damn well his dick would change your entire life, he tries his hardest to be gentle with you but he is still oh so soft
Iwaizumi is the type to go feral if you squirt, only because the idea of it is so hot to him
Like if you squirt for him,,,, Iwaizumi is going to have your legs bent over his shoulder before you can even blink as he fucks you for hours
Have we ever discussed the stamina that Iwaizumi has? I think that out of all the haikyuu characters he has some of the best stamina like this bitch is simply not quitting after one round
I know boys suck and can only cum like once in one sitting but NOT Iwaizumi,,,, he can cum at least three times… if you can keep up then he has no problem unleashing his true potential
Iwaizumi Hajime. Quirk : Fat C0ck. Wrong anime sorry
I trailed off,,,, didn’t I?
Anyway, Iwaizumi would seriously leave you dickmatized, and whenever you want to squirt homie pulls up like dw bbyg I gotchu and scene.
“Oh, Hajime~“ You moan loudly as his hips dig up into yours. At first, Iwaizumi had you on all fours, that was until he decided he needed to feel you. Now, one of his strong arms is wrapped around your waist to hold you against his chest while his hand is holding the front of your throat. Every now and then he will cut off your flow of oxygen, just to hear that sinful whine leave your lips.
Iwaizumi Hajime does not mess around when he fucks you.
His strong body feels so hard underneath your touch that you can’t help the way you press back into him, you love feeling Iwaizumi because it seems like every single touch of his is meaningful.
“Right there, ah,” Iwaizumi tilts his hand down to rub circles into your clit. He always tries to be soft with his touches, he tries so hard but it only lasts so long before his fingers begin to move at a pace you can’t seem to understand.
“Keep squeezing around me, sweet girl, just like that.” Iwaizumi chuckles lowly, which breaks off into a moan at the way you clench around him. His hand squeezes the sides of your throat and one particular thrust inside of you makes you see stars.
Iwaizumi looks over your shoulder, watching with greedy eyes the way your hips grind against him. How you so desperately try to meet each stroke of his cock into your tight cunt. His fingers are stimulating your clit so furiously that you aren’t able to hold back.
You completely soak his hard cock, the deep sprays paint his hand in your essence and Iwaizumi pinches your throat harder.
“You like that, don’t you? My filthy girl likes to be choked?” He asks lowly, not once letting up his thrusts or the assault on your clit. “Let me see you do that again.”
Kita Shinsuke
Kita is just so…. Wow, over the last month I discovered this character I fell in love yet again,,,,
I wasn’t expecting this and I genuinely thought I was going to be a Suna bitch but I proved myself wrong…. Something about Kita’s personality gives me such a sense of security LOL
Yes, hello, I am back with the Kita Daddy™ agenda,,,,,, I won’t let it go
He’d be so shocked when you first squirt for him,,, like this mf’s jaw will drop and he will just stare at you like holy shit
I think the messiness of it all would really turn him on like it will make his dick sooooo hard
Bruh Kita would find out all the ways to make you squirt so he can see you do it again, this mf is going to put you in so many positions
It’s like a science experiment, how can Kita make his s/o squirt for him?
Please, Daddy Kita will want to fuck you so hard like he will ache for you…. He wants to cum so badly
I think you could genuinely have Kita in the palm of your hand in this instance, his overall need for you will seriously cloud his mind and you could do anything you want with him
But you know Daddy Kita will only let you get so far~ POWER BOTTOM KITA
“Ah, baby slow down.” Kita moans as his eyes flutter shut, with the way you are bouncing on his lap there is no way he is going to last long. His large hands grip your waist tightly and he tries to hold you flush against him, anything to break his focus on your tight warm walls sucking him in. “If you keep doing this, Daddy won’t be able to last.”
The warning goes straight to your clit and you giggle foolishly, a loving smile appearing on your face as you stare down at your boyfriend who is withering underneath you.
“But if feels so good, Daddy.” You tell him and moan loudly when his cock rubs against that spongy part inside of you. “Especially, right. there.” You whimper and toss your head back, rubbing your clit against his harsh pubic hairs. The sensation feels too good and you eagerly reach down to relieve that tension. Kita snaps his eyes open and pushes your wrist away.
“No.” He warns and you bounce in his lap angrily, much like a little temper tantrum. Kita growls lightly before bringing his fingers down to your clit, using four digits he rubs your little pearl back and forth as you grind into his lap.
Kita can never be soft with you, he loves to please his baby girl and will do anything he needs to do to accomplish it. He has never had such a lack of control over a situation but, he can’t find it within himself to hate it.
“Yes, y-yes,” You hiccup and arch your back, letting go all over his hard cock as you squirt in his lap. The liquid sprays all over his abdomen and hand, a sight that Kita never wants to forget. Kita purposely moves his fingers faster to get you to squirt all over him, letting you completely drench his skin.
“Keep going baby, I know you have more.”
Terushima Yuuji
You know,,,, YOU KNOW I HAD TO DO TERUSHIMA HAHHAH >:-) He is just so damn fine
Can we acknowledge the piercing for a moment like I know there is no reason to do so but,,,,, have you thought about Terushima’s TONGUE piercing today? Oh, you haven’t? Well… now you have </3
Terushima will literally rearrange your guts, destroy your insides, his dick will cause you to go through an identity crisis ….. too much?
When you squirt for Terushima he is going to become the cockiest mf ever
He will quite literally almost cum in his pants, he just seems like the type to think it is the hottest thing ever
He’d want to see you do it again and again and again, please he is going to work your body
If you squirt while he is eating you out,,,, Terushima will fall in love.
Please he is already so arrogant and this will fuel this ego to a point of no return
He will act like he solved world peace or something like he did the most amazing thing ever….
I mean giving your s/o who you love more than life itself a mind-blowing orgasm does deserve a reward
“That’s it, give into to me.” Terushima chuckles against your clit, the vibrations of his moan send your hips flying up into his face. Terushima has had you like this for hours, he has been eating you out for so long you don’t even know how he can even stay focused anymore. His chin is soaked and shines in the light with your release, the entire sight makes you feel hot inside.
When Terushima pokes his tongue out to wet his bottom lip, the silver piercing catches in the light and you can only think about how badly you want him to eat you out for another handful of hours. Terushima spoils you, he really does and it’s to the point that you sometimes wonder just how deep his feelings are for you. Not like you’ll ever speak up on it. You don’t have enough time to continue your thoughts because Terushima begins his ministrations once again.
Two slender fingers prod at your entrance and you whine in frustration, you just want him to stuff you full even if it is just with his fingers.
“Yuuji, fuck me!” You grip his dyed hair and yank it harshly causing the boy to nip at your clit, the feeling against your swollen bud sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head. At the exact moment, he thrusts two of his fingers up into you, shallowly curling along your walls and hooking on a spot he knows too well.
Much to his delight, and utter surprise, you cum again. It happens so fast this time that he barely had to touch you. However, what surprises him the most is the way you squirt on his fingers and even on his chin. Terushima doesn’t even know how to react but he continues to thrust his fingers, just to hear that squelching noise echo throughout the room.
“You are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” His voice is low and he speaks in amazement, even you’re too shocked to say anything, because that has never happened before. “I’m never letting you go (Y/N)."
~
Taglist.
@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah @lovellucy @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder
#iwaizumi haijime x reader#kita shinsuke x reader#terushima yuuji x reader#iwaizumi x reader#kita x reader#terushima x reader#iwaizumi smut#kita smut#terushima smut#haikyuu fic#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu smut
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i am in love with you
i am in love with you
i hate to be the bringer
of such devastating news
four and a half years
you wouldn’t believe it
i had my first in a rich neighbourhood
so far away from you
i hated it
had my second in a dorm
just like yours
only you weren’t there
same as the last four and a half years
she laid herself out like a feast
the third
but it wasn’t what i wanted
because it wasn’t with you
for whom i was made
oh, with you
into a golden universe
i am in love with you
and you found someone
before i could tell you that
that my life was made to die with yours
my body made to die with yours
on your bed, somewhere, anywhere
i walked down a hill
in that sleepy coastal city
i was on my way to weatherspoons
to meet your namesake
carrying a heavy bag after class
end of january, i had met you for the first time
and thought to myself
i have found her
i have found her
it was astronomical
the refrain of the almost free
saw you walking behind that woman we both knew
you were asking her about the bible
it’s a vivid picture
i almost followed you
i had a question for you, too
a few days later
i was traversing the pavement
and upon the hill, a flicker of light
much like a cross
you were standing there
with some girls, some boys
and i was a magnet to your ism
said hi, we talked, you’d just got a new haircut
and i could’ve pressed my lips against every strand of your hair
in a sacred prelude, but i didn’t
have it in me to even tell you how beautiful you looked
better than the birth of venus
we stood there for a while
i said come ‘round the catholic church, please
there’s free lunch on sundays
it made you laugh
then you said
we ought to have a cup of tea
earl grey, your favourite
tea
and with it all the kindness of life
tea
and within me i immortalised you
i immortalise you
and i meant to tell you that
one month before we met
i met someone from your hometown
they took me ‘round the bay and i took a picture of the church
right where you grew up
the foundation was laid
for a house never built
i fell in love with the streets and the lamp posts and trains and cliffs that made you
though i didn’t know you yet
how afraid i was
that’s why i didn’t say
i didn’t know that it was okay to want you
and you were the only one
who didn’t ask where i came from
you just accepted me
and then you offered branches
a bridge between two falling stars
i didn’t understand all the lust bursting out of me
in your vicinity
so i stopped looking at you
and it only made me want you more
and i told our mutual friend
when i was drunk on cheap cider
in may when you were taken
that you must feel like silk
to an intimate observer
and as we walked into the corner shop
on wet cobblestone
i told her that i loved you
said i love her, i love her, i love her
i wonder if she ever told you that
then shame hurt me
and i stopped taking her calls
your scarf, your scarf
autumn or winter upon you
it doesn’t matter
it’s all a golden-red dream
and my nights are full of your perfect movement
your gracious hands and soul
unattainable literary ballerina
purple heart, you sent me one
when i was on the train to paddington
and in the air there was a beginning unreconstructed
you asked if i was okay
because you didn’t see me that day
i should’ve picked up the pace
should’ve told you anything
you would’ve listened
i know you would’ve listened
and lavender was your breath, your scent, your colour
and our friend tried to make plans
on that valentine’s day
plans that fell through
i didn’t know why it wasn’t our turn
but we already merged like waters
a thousand rivers ago
i can feel it
like lana del rey would say
all roads that lead to you as integral to me as arteries
all roads that lead to you as integral to me as arteries
i remember you in your leather jacket
when you sat next to me with a cough
i wanted to nurse you back to health
then we’d sleep inside each other
that’s what freedom would’ve meant
and i saw you in the half-light, perfect under blue skies
at 2 pm in june
fate was still trying to patch it up
bare-faced, you were the last living rose
i restrained myself from hoping
i was slate-grey inside
leaving for the counterfeit summer
you were with somebody then
somebody bolder, somebody to break you, another
it was the last time that i saw you
tried to get back in touch
tried to tell you about it
i never had the words, i’m sorry
and i know i act like we’re close
but trust me, i know
i know it when i see it
and i haven’t seen it since
and maybe you never saw me for who i am
for i was traumatised
i couldn’t be myself
i hope you see me now
i know you want immortality
you wear it like a pearl
the designation to be
remembered by the halls of time
well, that i could’ve given you
i wrote a book of poetry about you
in my mother tongue
it will be published soon
even though they rejected it at first
i wrote three hundred songs about you
at the very least
covered all of my canvases
in colours to beckon you
fixed your name into these walls
at night, when i required you
and that’s when i wanted to ask
never had the chance
but i wanted to ask
is it wrong if the only thing
i want to wear for you
is my skin?
i believe in letters
that’s why i’m telling you this
if you ever ask, like oliver did
whenever i watch that film
i think of you and what could’ve been
my childhood was a prison cage
and i get by in reykjavík these days
without any substances
i don’t know how i get by
there’s a man who watches over me
and still i am alone
i practice my violin four hours per day
and i don’t have any family
and everybody wants to know me
and everybody wants to love me
and everybody wants to fuck me
but some days i feel like i can’t move
i’m blooming, i’m barely living
and i am just as much a man
as i am anything else
and i am starved
to the bone
of you
of every atom in you
it is my calling
to reach into your depths, somehow
i’m twenty-four
i can’t remember your birthday
but something tells me it’s in the pulp of summer
not at the death of it like mine
and time isn’t linear
but i will still need you tomorrow
a habit fastened into me
throughout a thousand days
i didn’t know my name for years
on this frozen island
i couldn’t stand
and then they burned my heart
with a catheter, you know
i had nobody to hold
i was so sick
made my peace with dying young
and living slow
an undue burden
on a life never begun
a wasted garden
strong and alone
i’m doing better now
i was in london
when i almost died
around midnight
it stopped beating
i thought about you every day
and i tried
in my way
it’s okay, it’s okay
i play my violin
and something great awaits me
and nothing measures up
to the idea of you
and it’s not just an idea
but a tangible memory
it’s so simple
it’s scripture
no, i’m not religious
but maybe there’s some merit to it
for it brought me you
they don’t know who you are
and i’ll never tell them
only you know who you are
i heard about the shooting
i might understand what led him to do it
he just needed someone to love
i am in love with you
i don’t know why
i just am
it’s pathetic and strange
but maybe it’s what you’ve been waiting for
all this ever-changing time
it’s taken me long enough
i am in love with you
this is my verdict, my promise
this is all i can say
#poetry#lesbian poem#lesbian poetry#queer poetry#love confessions#confession#i love you poem#Sapphic Poetry#sapphic poem#sapphism#sapphic
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I was going through my AO3 bookmarks, and I wanted to organize them a little bit. These are my Dean/Cas canon-ish fic recs.
season 5
canticles by 2street2car
Words: 10,311 Chapters: 1
“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.
FTBYAM MY BELOVED
post season 6
Someone Who's Feeling For Me by ellispark
Words: 45,876 Chapters: 1
Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.
Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.
Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.
post bunker
Sun Can't Set Until Nine by LeverDrift
Words: 67,939 Chapters: 16
Cas moves into the bunker as his powers start to fail. Dean doesn’t know if the arrangement is as permanent as he wants it to be. He's also not sure why he keeps dreaming about his friend. All he knows is that he wants Cas to stay. Overall warnings: canon-typical miscommunication & Dean having self-hatred issues.
Life Skills by ilovehowyouletmefall
Words: 26,052 Chapters: 3
After Metatron steals Castiel's grace, and Cas comes to live in the bunker, Dean spends a lot of time with him, sharing all of his favourite things. Dean can't help it if sharing things with Cas just makes everything better. Besides, it's Dean's job as Cas' friend to introduce him to the joys of human life. To teach him how to be human. And if one of the experiences they end up sharing is sex with women, well... that's just part of Dean's job as Cas' friend too, right? The desire is triangulated, the rituals are intricate.
Sam Stole My Boyfriend by sobsicles
Words: 8,445 Chapters: 1
“Dude, you’ve been staring at me a lot lately, like even enough that Sam noticed. More than usual. So, like, what’s up?” Dean pauses, purses his lips and reconsiders. “What did I do?”
Cas knows that would be a perfect time to confess to Dean what exactly happened and what he was thinking. Maybe, Dean had some insight into the situation or even some kind of comfort to offer. But, the longer that he sat there, he realized that he could not tell Dean absolutely anything. So instead, for the first time, Cas fumbled.
“Um,” Cas mutters and abruptly stands. “Freckles?”
Dean blinked up at him as Cas pivoted and left the room. There was only one remaining option he had and unfortunately, it involved Sam.
Aching in the Absence of You by sobsicles
Words: 95,090 Chapters: 10
Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back.
He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales.
"Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time.
By nightfall, Cas is gone.
'Communication' by JustAnotherSamlicker
Words: 11,656
The same story told from two perspectives.
Dean bought a house and he and Cas fix it up.
Is Dean moving out? Is Cas moving in?
Should they just talk to each other already? (Yes they should)
Build a Home by domesticadventures
Words: 20,102
After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them.
He doesn't
season 10
The Most Important Thing by NorthernSparrow
Words: 94,462 Chapters: 14
Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).
season 12
Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord
Words: 42,922 Chapters: 7
Canon-divergent from 12.08
After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.
Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.
season 13
i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees) by sobsicles Words: 74,173 Chapters: 8
Dean keeps going back.
When he arrives, it's always to blooming flowers and a windmill in the background, not too far from a brook, the sun painting the plains.
He likes it there. He likes to stand in front of the makeshift urn and check that it's still where he put it, switching out the flowers when they wilt. He likes to listen to the sound of birds chirping, insects singing, the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. He likes to turn his face up and feel the sun on his skin, wondering if Cas would do the same if he were here, somehow knowing that he would.
He likes to talk.
There's never a response, but Dean feels the breeze rustle through his hair and watches the flowers bob when bees come to them and stares as the windmill keeps turning, turning, turning. And he imagines that Cas is replying—the windmill is the tilted head, the bobbing flowers are a gentle smile, the breeze is whatever words Dean wants to hear at the time.
Sometimes, it's almost like he's there.
Trial and Tribulations of Raising a Nephilim by Sickandtiredofyou
Words: 14,910 Chapters: 6
Dean has far too much on his plate, losing his mom, his best friend and now being a single parent to a newborn nephilim.
In which Jack is an actual newborn instead of a teenager.
post season 13
dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination) by sobsicles Words: 108,427 Chapters: 4
Freedom is just one adjustment after the next.
Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want."
"What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before."
"Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out."
"Easier said than done."
Reasons to read this:
Dean reads a story that ends like despair and his reaction is FUCK THAT
Cas wears Dean's hoodie
Jack is a toddler
The Jack and Claire sibling energy we deserve
Eileen being awesome and pulling pranks with Dean while Sam thinks she's an angel
Sam knows
YOUR HONOR THEY'RE IN LOVE
First Date by aeli_kindara
Words: 8,968 Chapters: 1
“We should go on a date. You and me.”
Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.
“I’m asking you out, Cas.”
Also known as the Dean Winchester makes the first move fic.
season 14
Broken Road by thegeminisage
Words: 109,629 Chapters: 7
A 14.13 Lebanon rewrite. When Dean uses a wish-granting pearl to try and kill the archangel Michael before he can escape the cage in Dean's head, they instead wind up with a newly-resurrected John Winchester.
It's been more than a decade since John died, and a lot has changed: Mary is alive, Sam and Dean have what passes for a proper home in the Men of Letters Bunker, and they're living with angels. John doesn't know angels are real, he doesn't know about the fragile new relationship between Dean and Castiel, and most of all, he doesn't know that Dean said yes to Michael, or that Dean's plan to defeat Michael would send him to a fate worse than death.
Now Dean must contend with both his father asking questions he can't answer, and his loved ones learning about the darker truths of his childhood, all while constantly battling the archangel trapped inside him. But Dean coming to terms with his history may be the difference between this being the beginning of a journey—or the end.
post season 15
fools and pilgrims by lagaudiere
Words: 31,904 Chapters: 2
Claire shows up at the bunker a day before Dean was planning to leave, with her hair cut short and a fresh tattoo on her left arm under a bandage.
Chuck is dead, Jack has given up his godlike powers, and Cas is back from the Empty, which doesn't make it any easier for Dean to talk to him. Suddenly finding himself in a world without monsters, supernatural forces, or any need for hunters, Dean's solution is to go on a road trip. Claire tags along.
Dean-Claire mirror fic post Despair
what's missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles
Words: 27,403
It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.
canon(?) au (Hunters and Men of Letters)
Dean Winchester's Secret (Angel) Boyfriend by reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent
Words: 11,191 Chapters: 1
Dean Winchester isn't exactly a team player. So when he starts mentioning a new Hunting partner, Ellen and Jo Harvelle aren't sure whether they should be worried or relieved.
But they're starting to get the feeling there's something important Dean's not telling them about Cas...
Shot Through The Heart by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim)
Words: 11,191 Chapters: 1
Dean is a hunter.
Castiel is a Man of Letters.
And even though they have to work together on a regular basis, there is not much sympathy between them. Castiel thinks Dean too brash and reckless while Dean in return sees nothing more in the other man than a rude asshole with an obsessive love for books and a truly terrible fashion sense.
But fate clearly has a funny way of throwing those two together over and over again.
And somewhere along the way feelings change into something neither of them would have expected.
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