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hiddenwashington · 1 year

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yearly disclaimer that this is going to be LONG but i promise it’s GOOD!!!

hello my beloved hidden, it is my favorite day of the entire year, the year that i get to celebrate all of YOU. that i get to express my almost overwhelming gratitude to all of you incredible members, to my dear best friends on the admin team, to all the past members who still resonate within the heart of hidden. somehow, someway, hiddenwashington turns FIVE YEARS OLD today, and i am already in tears writing that sentence and we’ve just gotten started. when i started hidden, in some sleep deprived delirium at 2am five years ago (and then hitting the tags at 5am that same morning), i never once imagined i would still be here even a year, let alone 5 years later, still loving and cherishing every single moment i get to spend here. it has been the most rewarding, challenging, downright hysterical and overwhelmingly beautiful experience of my life to your head admin, to be the one that gave you all this special place to be unapologetically you. and you all have done that, whatever that means for you, you have been the reason that hidden is still here five years later. this place would never be the same without your influence. to whatever member is reading this, please know that i mean that, hidden would be so incredibly different without you as a piece of our history. i know that i sound a little cliché when i say that hidden is my home and yours, that you will always have a home in washington, but i mean it. i have never not meant that. this place is so special, it is a home to those who need it, a place to explore yourselves, to explore your characters, to create these incredible moments in writing, in the chats-- seriously, i cannot imagine a better place with a better group of people. i know i’m sappy, but like, members, i genuinely mean it, that you make this place as good as it is. we are so beyond lucky to have such talent on our dashes, to have such dedicated people writing. the replies that i read every day just blow me away. and that goes for any member-- to those who have been here for ten minutes, or ten months, who have been here since the very beginning, or those who left us, you are all some of the sweetest, most talented writers i have ever met. hidden is the warm and welcoming place because of all of you, because you all look out for each other. it doesn’t matter if you have spoken to someone for two minutes or two years, if you have no canon connections or whatever, you are all so warm and caring about each other. the community you guys create, it’s home. i have never laughed so hard in my life, than with some of the conversation we have had in the discord, i am constantly inspired by your writing on the dash, the development you all can create for your characters, it’s something that should be published for the entire world to see. if i could scream my love for you all from the mountain tops, just for a chance for the world to know how wonderful you are, i would. it’s my yearly duty to swap between tired mom, to proud mom. so please, give me a few moments to absolutely gush about the admin team that helps me stay even remotely sane every day. i’m so deadass when i say that they are some of the best admins in the entire world, the amount of work they put into the group, into all of the decisions that are made-- you only see a fraction of the work that i have the joy of watching in real time, but they really are as good as it gets and i need them to know how thankful i am for them. and friends, you only have to deal with me being this sappy like once a year so, deal, while i highlight all of you xoxo !!! gotta start with a shoutout to the other half of my brain, my right hand man, probably the only reason hidden is still going bc without them i’d have gone insane by now, sunny-- just thank you? like genuinely, sincerely, thank you. for everything. for allowing me to be unapologetically myself, for allowing your dms to be my space to vent, to joke, to dump a million messages, for helping solve every single issue that has come up, for sticking by my side for five full years now, for being such a genuine friend, for being the best dm out there-- like damn you put up with so much bullshit from us how have you not TPK’d us earlier. thank you for being the voice of reason, for being the nice admin, for calming everything when i want to just give up and throw my hands up in the air. i love you, like more than you know, more than i need to say. you’re p cool. ollie, my beloved, please, i’m begging you to use this anniversary to TAKE A BREAK. the fact that you have joined the team, having never been an admin before, and have become one of the best we’ve ever had is so impressive, i forget that you haven’t even been on the team an entire year. you put in so much work, you are the force we lean on (maybe sometimes too much, pls i promise ill make sure you get a break), you dedication to the main is awe inspiring and i cannot express how thankful i am to you for being here. for putting in as much work as you do. for being an admin for less than a year and being our top tag ???? insanity. but really, we would not keep going most days without you ollie, i hope you know it never goes unappreciated. i love you a lot, thank you. seriously. i don’t know if i can say it enough to express how much i mean that. aria, a powerhouse, an icon, the real owner of the brain cell, i seriously don’t think the main would be half as functioning or well researched without you. you somehow, always, end up finding the answers that we need, your knowledge of faceclaims is unmatched and i wanna be you when i grow up. minus the minion love but it’s forgivable today and today alone. your ability to solve so many issues that arise is incredible, and i hope you know how thankful i am for every minute you spend working on the main, answering fc suggestions and everything. also your icons are always the highlight of my day, i hope you know how loved you are, by me. specifically. idc about everyone else, i love you, thank you so much my friend ♥ cherry !! yet another majority shareholder of the team dumbass brain cell. i know i can always count on you to write the best messages to send out to people, to always know how to word things and almost decipher what we’re all trying to say when we’re just yelling. i am always so impressed by you, cherry, you are sincerely one of the most genuine, kindest people i have ever met, and you also know when to put your foot down, how to not take shit, like i really know we can always count on you to be there when we need the support. thank you, for everything, i love you. jodie, the absolute heart of the team, seriously, you are just everyone’s biggest supporter (even when its for the dumbest ideas) and i know you are always ready to throw down if someone is struggling. you are simply the most loving people i have ever gotten the pleasure to know, and i hope, similar to ollie, you take this anniversary to catch a break, and by that i MEAN GO TO BED AT A HUMAN TIME. but seriously, you are the heart of team dumbass and we would not be as close of a team without you and your laughing fits bc you did something you know is gonna get both of us yelled at. i love you so much, thank you. and finally, kasey, who does not wish to be perceived but they don’t get that choice today. the fire in our hearts, and it’s not just a pyro joke. you are the first to spot problems, but always know the solution, to be able to fix an issue before it even becomes one. i am genuinely so proud of you, and everything that you do, you have been so important in helping hidden become what it is today, even if half of it is from us yelling at each other, only to end with everyone yelling at us for being The Worst. i wouldn’t want anyone else to be my partner for our patrol. thank you for always being so incredibly genuine and loving the moment you know someone needs that. i love you so much friend, you know that. now back to bullying all of you because this was too long, too much, but seriously. hidden, you don’t know how lucky you are. i barely even realize how lucky i am sometimes. nothing has been as rewarding as being your head admin. and i love each and every one of you. thank you for allowing me this space, for being the best group of people i have ever met. here to hidden’s 5th year, and every year after that! i love all of you.

much much love always, admin maig ♥

#hidden5ever #admin maig #hw: admin #long post tw #no im so deadass this is too long #but also i am very full of love today i promise ill go back to being annoying tomorrow

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interlagosed · 1 month

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the post you tagged as a world alone, yes but may I also suggest tsor as well?

i mean the sun shining on them and especially on carlos is giving a divine message to assert their symbols (rising sun and moon). plus the crown on lando’s head? wth??? crown prince lando!!! divine sign!

and them hugging like that is giving seeing each other after a battle, personally i was thinking of after the parade battle vibes 👀 and not mentioning but definitely mentioning carlos sr’s hand reaching for lando at the back there. i will be emotional about that in the usual circumstances but..applying the tsor background of the parade fight i’m—

in addition to the fact that you're absolutely right, can i just take a moment to be sappy and tell you and everyone else who does this how much i appreciate all y'all's engagement with my silly fics and the genuine love you make me feel for my own universes? you're right in a way that is so gratifying to me as an author and as a person. asks like this make me want to expand my universes more and more. i'll be honest, i don't always reply to comments/asks anymore because it gets a little overwhelming (and i'm so sosoososoSO sorry about that) but every single comment and ask is something i read and enjoy and love so much. thank you <3

also if i think too deeply about carlos sr's hand + king carlos the elder of hiberia.........i didn't get to develop his relationship with lando as much as i was able to reyes' with lando but absolutely. absolutely.

fuck i want to reread tsor LMAO

#hibi answers #i have a tsor story sitting in my notes that i need to work on finishing...#tsor

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chisiuwu · 2 years

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sorry for disappearing from here, i'm still drawing but i kind of took a break from social media some weeks ago and i didn't bother to update tumblr. i will come back and post my latest drawings soon, but i probably won't read dms, reblogs, notes or asks for a while. maybe months. a friend showed me my inbox messages (i was too anxious to open them myself--) and most of them were nice, so thank you for supporting me, it genuinely means a lot that you took the time to write nice words and reach out to me; to the person who asked me to tag more properly certain arts, i will take your critique into consideration too

if you follow me in other social media, you probably already noticed i disabled notifications, replies and dms, and it seems that i'm pretty much unreachable. i don't particularly enjoy it either, but this is better than having strangers making me uncomfortable – i said it on twitter but, fandom drama* apart, i'm not a very social person and comments are a bit overwhelming now that my art is popular (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) i do appreciate every single good reply i get, but twitter and instagram (especially twitter) are very hostile towards art, in the sense that it gets seen for only 5 seconds and people act either like the artist won't read what they have to say or like they need to please people's desires. the good thing is that i'm not a very emotional person either and now that the Big Thing is over i can just relax and enjoy the very few interactions i get from my mutuals and friends

(*the fandom drama in question was adressed in a twitter thread i don't regret making even though it got blown out of proportion. i said what i said and i thought about it very carefully before posting it)

the reason i'm spilling my thoughts here is precisely because tumblr posts survive better than tweets or whatever the hell insta stories are. i can freely say what i need to say not having to adjust my words into a certain format. for example, i wanted to remind everyone that i'm not mad over people who unfollowed or broke the mutual for whatever reason. especially if you're an artist and we kind of got along, i genuinely hold no resentment and it'd be okay for me to interact again (except if you subtweeted me in that case k1ll y0urself). i also ran a chainblock extension on google chrome that basically blocked every quote i had on certain tweets, or people retweeting tweets calling me out. i have literally zero memory of who said what, and if you either got caught up or you have changed your mind and want to get unblocked, you can try to get in contact with any of my mutuals to tell me! last thing i want to say is a bit obvious, but i ever create something that makes anyone uncomfortable, i can't care less about being unfollowed over it. i am educated enough to understand what kind of impact my art has, and if anything i ever did was truly hurtful, my friends would tell me. i am just drawing anime lesbians

so, if you've read this far: 1) i won't stop making art, don't worry about me because i will come back and i am also one of the very few mentally stable lgbt people in the world 2) it always makes me incredibly happy to connect with others through my works, and i'm very thankful towards every person that has ever left a positive impact on my life, even towards those who are silently following for any reason they may have. i hope you are all having a nice day ♡

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soft--dragon · 1 year

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💫The End Of 2022💫

Well! That's another year survived, packed up and stored in the memory compartment! Throughout this year I've achieved a lot such as gaining my restricted license, finishing my final year of college, constructed a scholarship-level art portfolio for my design class, and reached a milestone of 100 fics written! My follower count had risen over the last year and I'm so grateful for how many people are interested in my writing and encourage me to continue my hobby. Hopefully next year I'll be able to crack on with other stories and branch out into different fandoms and connect with more people!

Though I will admit I haven't written as much as I wanted to this year; college dragged me away from my laptop constantly and when I did have time to work on fics, my motivation and creativity was drained. The lack of content made me fearful of disappointing you guys, but to my relief you are all so incredibly patient with me and I am very grateful for that <3 Growing a community of people as wonderfully considerate and kind as this has accomplished what I wanted when I made this blog. That was to create a safe space for anyone who needed it and create content to make people happy or feel comforted. That kind of environment was the desired outcome, and I can contently say that has been achieved over the last 2 years :)

To everyone who has stuck with me since 2020; thank you for supporting me since I started writing, thank you for sticking around even if you've left the fandom, and a huge thank you for being such an incredible community of people that I feel comfortable being myself with. My writing ability has grown throughout my time on Tumblr and I am so proud to look back on my works and see that difference - a difference that probably wouldn't have happened if I didn't have such lovely and kind hearted people with me every step of the way. Everything I've written over the past year has been met with such wholesome responses, and I seriously cannot thank you guys enough for that. The fanart, comments, and tag replies are so incredible for me, and words cannot describe what you guys mean to me for that. I've been writing since I was a kid and posting stories on different social media platforms since I was 11. Though despite Tumblr to be known as a 'hell site' of 'trash pandas, caffeinated gremlins and horny robots', Tumblr is where I've felt the most comfortable posting my writing for you guys to read ^^

2023 is gonna be a weird year for me as I won't be taking a course in University, instead taking a gap year to hone my art skills and work to rake in some money for future needs. With some luck, I'll be able to post even more content for you guys and gain some more skill sets for my writing abilities too ^^ I'm so glad I've got you guys along for the ride, you make the story telling experience so much more enjoyable then you realise. And to the friends I've made on Tumblr over the last two years, please know that every conversation we've had I've cherished. I've gotten connected with a lot of people I looked up to before posting my stuff, and that is absolutely wild to me. Quite genuinely, I think I've made more friendships through here then any other platform of social media, and I'm so glad that I have 💙

Once more, - and I'm sure I've said this a thousand times at this point but I have to say it again, - thank you to every single person who's been supporting me. Whether it just be likes on my posts, or keyboard smashes in the tags/comments, it means the entire world to me. You're the best Gems I could've ever wanted, thank you for the memories of 2022

Love from your sleep deprived author; Soft 🫂💙

#dragon speaks #really should change that tag to Soft Speaks seeing as thats the more common nickname #this is my message to my beloved followers #thank you :)#<3 #see you next year

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leascorner · 3 years

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j.b.b. | Marley

Summary: Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours. Her name was Marley.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x single mom!reader

Warnings: Mention of past and present relationships, parenting, mention of food

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: This is my first story posted on here. I’ve been writting for +12 years now but for the last couple of years, I couldn't finish a single story. Turns out Bucky Barnes was all I needed to get over my massive writer’s block. Feedback is greatly appreciated. (Also, english is not my native language so if you spot any grammar mistake, please let me know!)

Masterlist

It all began with his friend, Sam.

On a night they were out for drinks, he had made it his mission to find someone for Bucky. Someone or anyone for the matter. He talked to everyone in the bar that night, while Bucky drank his beer, sitting at the counter. When it was clear enough that nobody there that night would keep grumpy Bucky company, Sam turned his attention on the dating app his friend had downloaded on his phone some weeks ago. He probably went through a dozen of profiles, sometimes showing the phone screen to Bucky, to what he would just respond by rolling his eyes and drinking some more beer.

That was until Sam showed him your profile. Bucky stared a second longer to the picture displayed on his phone screen than for the others. He couldn't tell what that was: the smile on your lips, the wrinkles at the side of your eyes or simply your eyes; but he couldn't get his eyes off it. Sam immediately started typing a message for you to what Bucky obviously protested. He did not need company because he was just fine on his own.

Despite his super-soldier abilities, he wasn't quick enough to take the phone from his friend's hands. The smile that appeared on Sam’s face annoyed Bucky even more. "What are you afraid of, though guy?" Sam had asked and Bucky eventually backed off, letting him do whatever he was planning on doing. There was no point in stopping Sam. He knew you wouldn't be interested anyway... To be honest, who would be? Bucky got his phone back along with a smirk from his friend. There was no answer after that, and Sam eventually found another topic to annoy the heck out of Bucky.

When he woke up the next morning, your reply notification was patiently waiting for him. For a second, he thought of deleting it, without having a look first. What did he have to lose? Gathering his courage, he opened it. Your words were as genuine as your smile and it made him grin like an idiot, though he made a mental note to later murder Sam for his poor choice of pick-up line. It took him the whole morning to be able to type an answer and another afternoon to press the ‘send’ button. It was the first text of many. Eventually, a lot of texts turned into calls; that turned into meeting up in your favorite French bakery; that turned into movies and restaurant dates.

This was nearly one year and a half ago.

Your relationship with Bucky was cautious and steady. He liked how you would give him his space, but still being right there for him. He liked that you let him stare at you in total awe or that you always had small kind thoughts for him like when you made his eggs the way he preferred in the morning and that everything was so simple - obvious even - by your side. Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours.

Her name was Marley.

If Bucky was being honest, finding out you had a two and a half years-old daughter was quite the shock. Not that he couldn't have seen that coming; you would always make plans, your handbag was always full of snacks and hand wipes and for some reason, you would never be available between five and eight p.m. That was also what he liked about you. The stability.

The idea of being involved in a relationship with somebody that already had a child did scare him off. If he decided to continue the relationship, it would not only be a matter of breaking your heart in the process – and well, maybe his too - but breaking a child's heart too. And that more than anything, he was refusing to assume the responsibility, but he owed you that much. You knew his deepest secrets and still, you didn't run away from him. Worse, you trusted him to be around your child.

You both had a lot of discussions about him meeting Marley - Bucky even seek advice to Sam. And as for the rest of your relationship, you took it slow. It started with Bucky showing up to your Sunday walk in Central Park, feeding up the ducks and sharing snacks. You also spent some time at the carnival where he would watch you two on the carousel – sometimes joining the ride too - and he would help Marley win at pick a duck or buy her popcorn. Eventually, he would spend more time with the two of you. It started with spending at least one evening per week at your place, making dinner while watching you playing with Marley in the living room. One evening turned into two, three, five evenings per week. He still could step out if he needed. You still could spend time with your daughter where he wasn't there. You still spent time just the two of you, when Marley was asleep at night or he would take you on date nights. The routine you three put in place was nice, but Bucky wasn't planning on taking Marley’s dad place. God, he would never see himself as a dad and Marley already had one - though in Bucky's opinion, he would not be awarded father-of-the-year.

Today, Bucky was picking Marley up from daycare.

He had done it a million times already, but this time was a little bit different. He was doing it on his own. The babysitter stood you up and you were stuck in an endless one-day meeting. You had called in utter panic, asking him to pick Marley up from daycare and taking care of her until you would be home. He had assured you he would do it and it would be fine. Now that he was standing in front of the building, he was doubting himself. He didn't know if he could do it on his own.

Another shaky sigh and Bucky entered the building. The childcare workers greeted him when he showed up at Marley's room. She was sat at one of these tiny tables making some kind of collage crafts. He planned on waiting for her to finish, just staring like he always did, before announcing himself, but Marley spotted him the second his figure appeared at the door.

"Bucky!" Marley cried out, leaving everything behind and running towards him.

"Hey Mar-Mar," he smiled. She always seemed happy to see him and Bucky wondered if she would eventually grow tired of him being always around.

After they hugged each other, Marley was called to put away her crafts and Bucky encouraged her to go do it. In the meantime, he collected her stuff - her panda backpack, shoes, and coat - so he could get her ready to leave. And he did just that when she got back to him.

"We are taking the train home. I'mna carrying you, is that okay?"

She wrapped her little arms around his neck in response and he lifted her up from the floor. After sharing goodbye to the childcare workers, they were heading home.

On their way to the station, Marley explained in every detail what she had done at daycare that day; Bucky was listening carefully, sometimes asking questions - Carol, she is the one with the curly hair, right? Was Mark mean to you again? - but mostly he was just nodding along. They made it to the station just in time to take the 5:17 p.m. train. It was rush hour and Bucky mindfully chose to hop on one of the cars at the end of the train - the ones he knew would be the less busy at this time of the day. He had only seven stops, so he didn't sit and stood against one of the train windows. By that time, Marley had finished reporting on her day, and she was just watching around, smiling at anyone she would make eye contact with.

After the second stop, her eyes caught the sight of the dog tag around Bucky's neck. She fiddled it through his T-shirt, probably wondering what that was, before taken it out to have a closer look. In her tiny hands, the metal tag seemed to be huge. She looked up at Bucky, with bright eyes and he swore, he would do anything for these eyes.

"What is that?"

"Uh- " Bucky wasn't sure how to explain it in a way a three-years old would understand. "-Every soldier has one. It uh- has my name on it and some other information."

"Is it if you get lost?" she asked, her little eyebrows raised high on her forehead. She did understand a lot of the world around her for her age. "Mommy put a card with her name and her phone number in my bag."

"Yeah, it's something like that."

Marley smiled at him and returned her attention on the letters’ reliefs on the metal. By the fourth stop, she was resting her head on his shoulder while he was still firmly (but not too much) holding her with his left arm. She kept holding his dog tag in her tiny fist and was patiently waiting.

"She is very sweet," the old lady sat on the seat in front of them said to him before leaving the train.

He nodded shyly and looked back at the little girl in his arms. Marley looked so much like you. Her face had still some baby features, she just turned three after all, but she had the same nose and her eyes had the same color as yours. They were the same piercing eyes that when they’d look at him, he felt like they could read his soul. And she did not just look like you. She had also some of your habits and personality traits. She would always be smiling to people she didn’t know. She was always saying ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’. She was obsessed with any kind of animal; the Sundays walks would last forever if she could pet all the dogs she encountered.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and Bucky got off the train on the seventh stop as planned. At the station, people turned on them as they passed. Maybe this was an odd sight: a man in combat boots, dark jeans, and a black leather jacket, carrying a small child in his arms. Especially knowing the kid in question was wearing white leggings, a red fluffy coat, and a stuffed panda backpack. Bucky didn't mind and continued his way to your place.

Marley stayed quiet for the five minutes’ walk to your place, but once Bucky had turned on your street, she wriggled to be freed of his hold. Once her feet touched the ground, she directly ran towards a car parked not far away. She squatted down and started clicking her tongue. A ginger cat immediately came out from underneath the car.

"Careful," Bucky called out. He knew it was not recommended interacting with stray cat as they could be sick with all sorts of disease. And to be fair, it got him a little worried the cat was getting this close to Marley. He could already see her getting bitten by the cat, getting rabies, and losing her arm, or worse: dying.

"That's Gus, he lives at number 7," she said pointing at the building they stopped in front. It had the number written on it.

Gus started rubbing itself against Marley's shins and she gently petted his back. The cat then went to rub on Bucky's combat boots, also greeting him even though they never encountered before. And it continued his way to the building's porch, where it lazily lay down.

"Mommy said we could have a cat when we get a house."

"I've got a cat," Bucky stated and Marley cried out in excitement. She asked him about a hundred questions. What was its name? What was it looking like? Was it friendly? Was it sleeping in his bed with him at night? Bucky never failed to answer one of her questions and they talked about that until they made it in front of your apartment door.

Marley was already on her way to her room when Bucky turned around after locking the door. She had removed her shoes and coat on her own and left them behind without putting them away like you would always request it.

"Uh-uh, we go wash your hands first, okay?"

After that was done, she ran to her room for good this time. Bucky went back to the living room and focused on what he could do to help you. He knew you would get home exhausted from your day at work and he did not want to have you do all the chores you usually did. It was the least he could do.

Somehow, your place was always tidier than his, and he lived on his own. In the kitchen, he found breakfast dishes in the sink and the dishwasher full of the dishes that had been cleaned the night before. That was where he would get started. He put away the dishes easily; he had been around your kitchen a lot those last months and he knew exactly where everything was. He even knew where you were hiding away the chocolate and candies; somewhere Marley didn't have access to.

"Hey Bucky, can I have snacks?"

A look at the watch sitting on his right wrist, she had still a good hour and a half before dinner and he replied positively. He wiped his hands on the dish towel resting on his shoulder and took one of these bamboo sectioned plates he just washed. He was reaching out to the first cupboards in front of him when it suddenly appeared to him, he had no idea what he could give her.

"What does your mom usually give you?" He asked Marley, turning back to her.

Marley shrugged. "Carrots and hummus." And Bucky swore this kid was eating healthier that he ever had.

He started by the fridge, looking for anything he could give to Marley. Thankfully, she wasn't a picky eater so it would be easy for him. Tonight's dinner was in it, along with some vegetables and fruits. He chose grapes because it was the only food, he could see himself eating at that time of the day.

"Grapes and uh-" he looked at the cupboards right next to the fridge "- crackers?"

Marley nodded. Bucky prepared it all on her plate, making sure there was just enough for her to be full but not too much so she would still eat dinner, and handed it to her. She carried it carefully to the living room, Bucky following behind. She had laid out all her crayons on the coffee table next to her Paw Patrol coloring book. He knew about this cartoon because it was the only one Marley ever wanted to watch, she was literally obsessed with it, and she did make him watch some episodes with her. He knew that, when she was playing alone in her room, she would usually pretend she was saving the world with them.

Bucky sat on the carpet, next to Marley, stealing one grape from her plate. She threw him a death glance but offered him some more if he would help with the coloring. He happily complied.

Before dinner was normally bath time. Thankfully, you had said over the phone you would deal with that in the morning. For some reason, Marley did not like baths. A little bit of water in her eyes or ears was too much for her to handle and he wasn't sure he could deal with her being so upset on his own.

He still got her changed in her pajamas - she obviously chose the one with the dalmatian puppy from Paw Patrol you had agreed on buying a few weeks ago; washed her face with a cotton pad and some cleansing lotion, brushed her hair and tried the best he could to tie them in a low ponytail. You would normally braid them for the night, but this was not something Bucky mastered at all - he made a mental note to watch some tutorials on YouTube to learn though.

"Will you and mommy get married?" Marley asked out of nowhere while Bucky was carrying her back to the kitchen to have dinner.

"I don't know," he said, confused. "Why do you ask?"

"I prefer you over my real daddy," Marley admitted. And it broke his heart. Bucky knew how her dad forgot about her third birthday and missed most of his custody days lately. He didn't really understand how somebody could have a child and knowingly decide not take care of them anymore.

The child in his arm was so precious. It amazed him every day how much she could comprehend of the world around her. She was smart, creative, kind. She knew what she wanted, would be very stubborn about it and would do anything to get it – you always said you didn’t understand where she got her fierce mind and Bucky laughed every time because he knew exactly from whom she had gotten it: you. You did such a good job raising her on your own. He also knew you would always choose her over him, and he had to admit, it made him fall in love even more with you.

"Even if I'd marry your mom, I still wouldn't be your daddy officially."

"To me, you would," Marley concluded as if it was as simple as that.

Living with you two permanently. Marrying you. Bucky never thought of it. He liked how this relationship was working: the kindness, the trust, the love. He loved the movie dates with you, the Sundays walks, and the evening just the three of you. He loved how simple it all was and how it made him just happy. Happiest he had been in a long time. And he wondered if he wanted more. The way his heart was fluttering in his chest made him realized, he did. He didn't know if he was ready though.

Back to the kitchen, he put her down on her seat before getting the casserole of potato gratin out of the oven. He put a small portion in her plate, next to some chopped carrots and apple sauce he already prepared. He put it down in front of her and sat next to her.

"Will you eat with mommy?"

"Yeah, is that alright?"

She nodded, rubbing her eyes. They had stayed coloring her books a little too long and it was nearly her bedtime. Smiling softly, he encouraged her to eat. She did while asking some more questions on his cat in between each mouthful. How old is it? Why did you name it Alpine? Has mummy already met it? Do you think she'll like me? Turned out this little one never run out of question.

After dinner, Bucky gave her a small portion of chocolate from the special cupboard and they agreed it would be their little secret. Then, he carried her to the bathroom to brush her tiny teeth. It was started to be late for her and she was clearly fighting against sleep, the lack of it upsetting her.

"I want to see mommy," she cried, lips trembling and eyes full of tears.

"I know Mar-Mar, she'll get there soon," Bucky tried to comfort her. You hadn't text yet, meaning you weren't on your way still. He knew Marley would be asleep before you got home. "We can read a book in your bed while we wait for her, yeah?"

Marley nodded and let Bucky carry her to her bed. She had her head rested on his right shoulder the whole time. She crawled under the covers the moment her body was dropped off on the bed. She let Bucky choose the bedtime story and he chose the one he knew she liked so much.

He laid beside her gently and she immediately reached out closer to him. He wrapped his right arm around her, and her hands somehow found his dog tag again. A small kiss on her forehead and Bucky started reading the book in his left hand. Marley was listening carefully, helping him by turning the page.

At the end of the story, she was fast asleep against him, his dog tag still in her tiny fist. Bucky did not dare moving, afraid he would wake her up if he did. He observed the small child against him and listened to her soft breathes. She looked so peaceful and it made him thought of the way she had welcomed him into her life. Just like you, she had taken him as a whole; with his trauma, his insecurities, his quietness, and his staring habits. And now, she had him wrapped around his little finger. He knew deep in his guts he wouldn't let anything happen to you or your daughter. He realized that now. That made him think some more: maybe he was ready after all. And this time, he would not let happiness slip away from him.

Bucky stayed like that until twenty minutes later, when you showed up on your daughter’s room doorstep. You looked exhausted yet still radiant. A smile had formed on your lips at the sight in front of you. It made you melt right on the spot.

"Hey," Bucky greeted you softly.

You came closer, walking on your tiptoes, careful of not waking up your daughter. You laid besides them, kissing your daughter little fist, and tucked yet another strand of hair behind her ear. You looked back at Bucky, who was intensely staring at you. His left arm was already wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you close. You kissed his jaw, making him smile gently. "Thank you for taking care of her. Did it go okay?"

"More than okay." He kissed your forehead while you snuggled closer to him. His heart could burst of the feeling of having you two near him forever.

He wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

#jbb #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x single mom!reader #lea's writing #bucky barnes x you

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

Happiness [Maxwell Lorenzano x f!Reader]

Author’s note: Please heed warnings before you read. This is angst. There’s a little fluff and a few spicy moments, but at its core, this is a pretty angsty read. It’s a different interpretation of Maxwell, post WW84. Reblogs are so appreciated. I worked really hard on this and it’s not showing up in tags so if you could reblog it... it would literally mean the world to me :( <3

Summary: After the dreamstone debacle, Maxwell Lord loses custody of his son, his home, his job and all his wealth. He has nothing, and what was once the simple task of ‘living’, is suddenly proving to be extremely difficult. Until a beacon of light enters his life. He can only hope that you don’t find out who he really is.

Word count: 4000+

Rating: 18+

Warnings: depression/suicidal thoughts, PSTD/trauma implications, poverty, starvation, binge eating, allusions to sex, male masturbation, food and drink mention.

Masterlist

Max is usually pretty good at keeping himself to himself, but when he hears the commotion from outside his small shanty apartment, he cautiously stalks towards the front door and leans into the wood, gazing out the peephole. He spots you, struggling to unlock the door located on the far side of the hall. Your arms are filled with brown paper bags and an abundance of cardboard boxes circle around your feet. He hears you curse as you drop one of the paper bags. It rips, and groceries spill onto the floor with a clatter. He swallows thickly, feeling his tummy grumble at the sight of fresh fruit and colourful veg. Max hadn’t eaten a single meal this week.

He spends a few more seconds watching you struggle, before the guilt swarms over him and he feels like a creep. He does wonder if he should leave his apartment and help you out though, but eventually he decides on turning his heel and walks back to the torn leather sofa. He just knows he’ll be some kind of intrusion on you. If Max has learned one thing, it’s that he needs to stay away from other people. Otherwise, he’d just hurt them. Even if hurting them was the last thing he intended to do.

Still, he finds himself marvelling over you. He wants to go over and introduce himself. He thinks you’re absolutely stunning. Maybe it’s just because he hasn’t seen a woman (other than his ex-wife) in just short of a year, or maybe it’s something more genuine -- like the way you wear your hair or that glimmer in your eye. Once upon a time, Maxwell would’ve strolled on over to your apartment with the utmost confidence and charm, with the sole intention of winning you over and taking you back to his place. He wouldn’t dare do that now.

He stares at the wall clock, and watches as the minute leg ticks. It’s painfully slow. It’s 5:52pm, and Maxwell is just waiting until 6pm, because he knows at 6pm he can call his son, Alistair. If he tries calling a second earlier though, he is certain his ex-wife will throw a rage, claiming that he’s breaking court order. Maxwell had never been one to follow rules, but now, he didn’t have much of a choice. As he waits for the leg to strike 6, all he can really do is think about you. Truth be told, he hates that he’s thinking about you this much. He doesn't even know you.

But you’re so pretty. Your features are soft and delicate. Your clothes fit you perfectly and hug your body in all the right places. He can’t help but think what you sound like. He wonders if you’re from around here. He wonders why you moved into this particular neighbourhood, out of all the other neighbourhoods in rural D.C. He should go over and say hello at least. It would be the polite thing to do. He considers bringing over a bottle of wine to make a peace offering, but then he remembers all he has in his refrigerator is a stick of butter and a bottle of milk that has grown old and fermented. He assumes that you probably wouldn’t care for such housewarming gifts.

Maxwell calls Alistair as soon as the clock turns six. As always, Alistair is more than excited to speak to his dad, beaming brightly down the line. Alistair tells Maxwell about his step-father, and how he’d built a pool in their back garden for Ali and his mom. Max’s lips curl into a frown when he realises that his ex’s new husband is giving Alistair everything Max couldn’t. And once again, Maxwell feels like he has failed as a father.

For a short while, Alistair babbles about his day at school and how he got full marks on a pop quiz. Maxwell is as proud as punch. He has no doubt that success will one day find Alistair, he just hopes Alistair has an easier time handling it. Max can hear a faint yelling in the background of the phone call and eventually Alistair is interrupted.

“Oh-- mommy is calling me to eat dinner.” Alistair says softly, his voice suddenly growing oddly timid. Max’s stomach grumbles again at the mention of dinner.

“But we still have ten minutes left of our phone call.” Max replies matter-of-factly. He hopes Alistair can’t hear the disappointment in his voice. This isn’t his fault. He hears his ex yell again and Max can’t help but feel his face harden with disdain.

“I know, I’m sorry daddy, but I have to go.” The croak in Alistair’s voice is enough to break Maxwell’s heart. He wishes this could’ve been different. It should’ve been different.

Max knows he can’t argue though. It’s only futile. So he accepts the fact that Alistair has to leave the phone call early -- at least he was getting something to eat. Maxwell remembers when he was Alistair’s age. His mom always struggled to put food on the table because his dad would spend all the money on drinks at the local bar. Maxwell is just grateful his son isn’t starving.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Maxwell reassures before taking a shaky exhale. “I love y--”

But then, the line went dead. Max assumes that Alistair’s mom has ripped the phone from his hand and hung up. Sighing, Maxwell forces himself to stand up and walk on over to his bedroom. The bed is unmade and there are several piles of dirty laundry all over the floor. He jams open the sticky window and climbs onto the balcony, inhaling the cool evening air and lighting a cigarette. Smoking was a habit he’d gotten himself into when he was much younger, but he’d grown out of it when he’d hit limelight. Now though, it was growing back in to be a shameful addiction that he just couldn’t shake. It helped him stop feeling hunger, though.

As he flicks the orange lit ash over the edge of the balcony, his eyes catch on you again. You are standing on the street, talking to some guy. You’re laughing, and it looks like this mystery man’s hand is caressing your arm. It’s probably your boyfriend; Maxwell assumes, and the pang of jealousy in his chest turns into unadulterated sadness as he realises he was probably never going to find love again. He peers over the edge of the balcony once more as he takes a final drag of the cigarette, and he wonders if the jump would kill him.

Maxwell’s eyes begin to sting, and he climbs back into his bedroom, knocking his head on the window pane in the process.

He can’t sleep that night, and he tosses and turns in his three quarter sized bed. He could feel every spring in his mattress. What he would give to just sleep one more night in the soft, plush king sized bed he used to take for granted. He switched on his amber tinged bedside lamp and swatted away a moth that flew towards it. Maxwell stared at the ceiling and wondered if the damp had gotten worse. Even if it had, it wasn’t like Max had the courage to bring it up with the landlord.

He finds himself thinking about you again. He lived to see the way you smiled when you spoke to that guy, or the way your hair blew ever so slightly in the evening breeze. Max wraps his hand around his semi-hard cock and begins to jerk himself off. To nobody’s surprise though, he doesn’t finish -- the overwhelming feeling of revolt consuming him. He thinks he’s disgusting, and that nobody would ever want to touch him. He can’t even stand touching himself.

He falls asleep not long after that.

Max once had a pretty decent sleep schedule, going to bed at 10 and waking up at 6. But now he was up until the early hours of the morning, overthinking and hating himself. He wakes up three or four times a night from the same recurring nightmare. It’s a replay from the clear night of July ‘84, when he took over everyone’s TV screens. His doctor prescribed him therapy for it, which would probably help, but Maxwell just can’t afford it.

He wakes up to the sound of a bang on his front door. Max scrambles to his feet in a panic, checking the time on his alarm clock. It’s 2pm. And the person at the door could easily be his landlord, finally having enough and kicking him out. Max’s rent is two months overdue.

But it’s not his unforgiving landlord. It’s you. And you’re holding a fruit basket.

“Hey neighbour!” you smile pleasantly before introducing yourself to him. “I just moved in across the hall. I wasn’t sure what you’d like… but I figured everyone likes fruit!”

Maxwell stays quiet, standing there in complete disbelief. No one has shown him this amount of kindness in so long…

The prolonged silence makes you feel a little strange. He still hasn’t accepted the fruit basket, nor had he said anything. He was just… staring at you. It wasn’t a slimy gawk. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what his dark eyes were trying to tell you.

“—I’m sorry,” you continue eventually when he doesn’t speak, dropping the fruit basket by your side and turning away. “I uh— would you like me to get you something else?”

Maxwell’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head. “No!” he exclaims, opening his front door wider and taking the fruit basket from you. “I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I uh— I love fruit.”

You smile at his fluster, and you swear you notice a rosy pink blush cross his cheeks. It’s adorable.

“Oh okay, that’s good then.”

Maxwell prays you can’t hear his stomach grumble at the sight of the fresh fruit. He’s so excited to eat it all. “How can I repay you?”

You raise your eyebrows at his proposition and chuckle awkwardly. “Repay me? No no,” you laugh. “It’s just a fruit basket,”

It wasn’t just a fruit basket though. It was the only food Max had.

“I mean, you could tell me your name.”

Maxwell curses, realising he hasn’t even introduced himself. Gods— he wonders when exactly he’d lost his charm.

“Right, I’m sorry. I’m Max.” He extends his arm and offers you a handshake. You giggle, but accept.

He feels a bolt of electricity run up his arm when your fingers interlink with his, and he wonders if you can feel it too.

“Very formal Max,” you acknowledge with a smile.

Maxwell genuinely hasn’t communicated with anyone since July 1984. It’s probably about time he ditches the businessman persona, although he doesn’t realise he still uses it from time to time. Old habits die hard.

“I must say, I feel like I recognise you from somewhere.”

“No. You don’t.” Maxwell quickly snaps back and you’re afraid you struck a nerve.

There’s a longer silence and you find yourself wondering about your neighbour. He’s right in front of you and yet you can’t help but feel as though he’s some kind of enigma. Maybe it’s the crinkles in the corner of his eyes or his wry smile.

“Um…” you mumble, your gaze trailing behind him as you try and peer into his apartment. You can’t see much though. From where you stand it looks very empty… and brown. “If you weren’t busy tonight maybe you could come over and we could get to know each other. I uh-- don’t have many friends yet.” you explain shyly, nervously biting your lip.

You didn’t usually get nervous talking to new people, but there was just something about Maxwell that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His presence made butterflies flutter in your tummy and your hands feel clammy with excitement… or maybe anticipation. He stares at you blankly before clearing his throat.

“I uh-- yeah I mean-- maybe,” Maxwell shrugs cooly. “If I’m not busy.”

Pft, busy. Max hasn’t been busy since the dreamstone debacle.

“Of course,” you nod your head and smile. “Well, you’re welcome to come on over anytime.”

And then, without thinking, Maxwell replies. “And you’re welcome to come over here anytime too.”

You feel your smile grow into a grin and you reach out, placing your hand on Max’s arm. “Okay, well, it was nice meeting you.” you bite your lip.

Max’s heart stops when you touch him, and for the first time, he doesn’t flinch away. You’re holding his bicep and… he likes it. It’s not sending him into a spur of anxiety, in fact, he feels better just for finally plucking the courage to talk to you. And now you’re touching him. You’re not repulsed or disgusted… in fact, you’re smiling. You look happy, and maybe Max is happy too. Maybe. Max doesn’t even realise the small smile that’s crept upon his lips.

“Nice meeting you too.” He swallows and you wave goodbye.

He watches you walk back into your apartment, drinking in your appearance. You were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt today. It was casual… but he liked it.

Even when he finally gets back into his apartment and slumps against his front door, he’s still smiling. This feeling is so unfamiliar.

Maxwell finds himself pondering whether or not he should visit you tonight. He so desperately wanted to see you again-- see your pretty face and sparkling eyes and that perfect smile. Maybe Max could have a friend. That would be nice.

But he quickly gets scared again. He knows immediately that you’re too good for him, and that he’ll only end up hurting you. And then he’ll be left alone again. Max doesn’t know if he can survive another heartbreak.

Once again, he lights a cigarette and sits on the balcony, and wonders if the jump will kill him.

Then he realises he suddenly doesn’t want to die. At least, not yet. He wants to see you again first.

Max doesn’t even bother finishing the cigarette. He taps away the ash and climbs back inside, stripping himself of his clothes and turning on the shower. If he was going to see you tonight, he’d at least make the effort.

The soap he uses is from Dollar Tree, and it doesn’t really have a scent. It made a change from his favourite Jo Malone pomegranate fragranced soap, that’s for sure. He gets annoyed trying to squirt out the very little remenints of his shampoo bottle. Although he doesn’t have much, he’s satisfied when he comes out of the shower. He feels clean and fresh.

Maxwell rakes through his tiny collapsing wardrobe, trying to find an outfit that will make him appear somewhat presentable. He’s probably overthinking this whole thing -- after all, it isn’t exactly a date. But he still feels the strong inclination to impress you. He so desperately wants to be liked by you.

Most of his everyday wear is stained or ripped or very aged. But then he spots the small duffel bag at the bottom of his closet and he remembers he packed some of his old business wear when he moved out of his manor and into this apartment. He hadn’t looked in the duffel bag once since moving though, afraid that seeing the clothes would unleash some kind of trauma on him.

Max crosses his legs and hesitantly unzips the black bag. Inside, he finds a few fitted shirts, a few tailored pants, and one suit jacket. He even spots a belt and two patterned ties. He’s a little upset though when he can’t find the suspenders he used to wear. They were always his favourite part of his outfit.

Maxwell can’t bring himself to dress in the whole get up, but he does pick out a white button down shirt and grey pants. He tucks the shirt in, and wraps the belt through the loops in his pants, clicking it into place. Opting to look slightly more casual, Max leaves the first two buttons of his shirt undone and rolls the sleeves up to his elbows.

And for the first time in a long time, Max likes the way he looks. He wishes he had some cologne to spray, and he could definitely do with a haircut, but this is good enough.

He doesn’t want to seem desperate, so he does wait (albeit impatiently) until 8:30pm to see you. In the meantime, he eats over half of the fruit basket. He tells himself he’ll stop after an apple and an orange, but strangely enough. He can’t. He can’t stop. It just tastes so good and he’s so hungry -- so he eats until he feels sick. He wants to lie down because he really doesn’t feel too good at all, but he’s not going to pass up this opportunity to see you for anything. He feels a little cold, so he throws on his suit jacket which is grey in colour and matches the tailored pants. Max chokes down a glass of water, straightens up his posture, and knocks on your door.

He’s not waiting for long, and he’s delighted when he sees you answer the door. Your lips are painted a ruby red colour and you’re wearing your hair differently. Not only that, but you’d changed out of your sweater and jeans, and now you’re doting a knee length flowy dress. Your feet are slipped into some fuzzy looking slippers though, and Max admires the small diamond stud earrings that you don. They really bring out the colour of your eyes.

“I was hoping you’d come.” you reveal nervously, opening the door wider and looking your neighbour up and down. He looks so incredibly handsome in his change of outfit. Max feels himself blush under your gaze and he smiles.

“I just couldn’t pass this up.” he laughs nervously.

You move out the way and gesture for him to enter your apartment. Max notes that it’s roughly the same size as his, but it’s already filled with more furniture. Judging from the plentiful cardboard boxes in every corner, you hadn’t finished unpacking either. You find yourself watching Max as he takes in your front room. You take his jacket and hang it on your coat peg which stands by your front door. You definitely do recognise him from somewhere, especially seeing him in that shirt and those pants…

You shrug off your curiosity temporarily though, and take his hand, pulling him into your kitchen. Max loves the way your hand fits so perfectly into his. He doesn’t want you to pull away. And you don’t, until you reach the refrigerator.

“I have cranberry juice, tea, coffee-- no milk though, uh…” you trail off and check the cupboards. You beam when you see the bottle of champagne that your friend had gifted you. It was to celebrate moving out. You present him with it and grin. “Would you care to have a glass with me?”

Max remembers the distinct taste of the bubbles on his lips and he nods in agreement. You don’t have any fancy glasses, let alone flutes, so you pour the pale yellow liquid into two plastic tumblers. You hand one to Max and cradle your own in both of your hands.

“You should propose a toast.” you laugh jokingly.

Luckily, Maxwell has always been able to handle being put on the spot. He only takes a few seconds to come up with something.

“To new friends.” he announces with a charming smile, and clinks his cup against yours.

Max hasn’t had a drink in a long time, so it doesn’t take long for it to reside in his system and he begins to feel a bit tipsy. It’s not bad though. Maxwell is relaxed, and he’s comfortable. You bounce off each other and make each other laugh right up until the early hours of the morning. You bring out Monopoly and you’re surprised at how good he is at it. He gives you advice on buying properties and investments and it truly sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. You wonder what he does for a living.

“I didn’t say this earlier,” Max says as you pour out the last of the champagne. The alcohol has him buzzing with confidence. “But you look breathtaking, really. That dress and those earrings and your lips…”

And you don’t know what it is, but Max just makes you feel so good. “My lips?” you repeat breathlessly, gazing into his honeyed brown eyes.

Max nods wordlessly when you climb into his lap and straddle his hips. You place the palms of your hands flat against his chest and nudge your nose against his, giggling playfully. Max feels scared -- he’d never been this close to anyone in so long, let alone a beautiful woman like yourself.

Gods, he’s so handsome too. A small piece of his hair has fallen out of place and it crosses his forehead. You’re quick to brush it out of his face with your finger, and one of your hands cup his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of your touch, humming in contentment. When he opens his eyes again, they’re noticeably shades darker.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice low like it had dropped a few octaves.

You nod desperately and your lips crash against his.

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the adrenaline but he’s an amazing kisser -- perhaps the best you’ve ever had. You roll your hips over his lap and he moans, but doesn’t break the kiss once. His large hands roam around your back and squeeze at the soft flesh of your thighs. The Monopoly game has been long discarded now, leaving only you and Max revelling in each other’s touch.

You want more. You want him. You dip your hand in between your bodies and find his belt, trying your best to undo the buckle so you can get him out of his pants. You’re certain you can feel his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh, and you’d be right in thinking he wants this too.

But what he wants the most, is to not ruin things between you both, and Max feels like that maybe this is all happening a bit too fast. He doesn’t want to reject you, and he’s afraid of hurting you, but he’s also afraid of you getting so close to him -- that you find out who he truly is, and the things he does. He doesn’t want to lose you because you make him feel so happy. For the first time in potentially years, Maxwell feels genuine happiness. He doesn’t want to fuck up, not when he’s been doing so well.

So he pulls away from you breathlessly and moves your hands away from him. He holds them though, brushing his thumbs in comforting circles against your soft skin.

“I really like you,” he smiles. “And tonight has been… great. You have no idea how much I’ve enjoyed myself. But I-- I really want to see you again. And do this again. And have a good time with you. I just don’t think we should-- you know--” Maxwell tries to explain. He feels bad for rejecting you. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Because trust me,” he sighs, closing his brown eyes. “I really really do. But--”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you smile, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I understand, and honestly, I think you’re probably right. I’ve had a good time too though.”

Maxwell can’t help but beam knowing that there’s no hard feelings between you both.

“So we can do this again?” he asks hopefully.

“Yes.” you reply, pressing a chaste yet sweet kiss to his lips.

You wiggle off his lap and Maxwell stands up. “I should head back home then,” he says. “It’s late. But maybe we can do something tomorrow?”

“I’d like that a lot.” you agree.

Max gives you one final kiss and part of you wants to ask him if he’d be willing to stay the night. You shake away the temptation and tell yourself there’d be plenty more opportunities for him to stay over. Before he leaves, you see him abruptly spin around on his heel and point his index finger towards you.

And your heart drops.

You freeze.

You think you can feel your blood run cold and the colour drain out of your face.

Because in that moment, when he points his finger at you, you recognise him.

You remember him.

You know who he is.

“I almost forgot my jacket.” Max laughs, sliding past you.

You feel like you can’t move though.

This was the man who single handedly almost destroyed the entire planet.

But how -- how could it be Maxwell Lord? He was so sweet and kind and funny. How could the man you just made out with, the man you shared a bottle of champagne with -- your own neighbour…

How could it be Maxwell Lord?

How hadn’t you noticed sooner. Hell, his name was literally Max Lorenzano.

“Goodnight.” Max tells you.

You try and force yourself to say it back but no words come out. Your throat feels dry and you’re panicking.

Max doesn’t even notice though. He’s too busy beaming with happiness when he leaves.

You aren’t sure if you’re going to see him again.

When Maxwell gets back home, he can’t rid himself of the grin that’s plastered across his lips. He sits out on the balcony and lights a cigarette, but this time, when he looks at the ground beneath you, he doesn’t wonder if the jump will kill him.

His eyebrows furrow together when he notices the florist across the road, and he wonders how much a bouquet of flowers will cost him. He wants to get you something; as a thank you for giving him a good time.

He simply can’t wait to see you again.

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ww84

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commander-diomika · 3 years

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[Image ID: Screenshot of a tumblr reply from user @weareallfromearth saying “Holy shit I would V much like to know what you’d do with ZolfWilde.” End ID]

This was in response to me tag rambling that if Alex “I don’t Actually Have That Much Experience in Courtship” Newall and Ben “I just Realised I’m Too Straight For This” Meredith don’t know what to do with Zolf/Wilde, they should hand the ship over to me.

*rubs my gay little hands together.*

I initially characterized them offhandedly as Enemies-to-Lovers but that’s not quite it, is it? On reflection I would say it’s more of an Opposites Attract situation.

Oscar Wilde, as re-imagined in the RQG universe, is a homme fatale; a dangerous, attractive man, skilled in encouraging people to underestimate him, wearing different masks, never quite being able to trust or be trusted by anyone.

There is NO personal/professional line for Wilde. He lives his work, and his work is subterfuge and interpersonal manipulation. (whether or not he started this way in his field as a journalist, or was forced to become this way by the changes in his world, is another post.) He is a person who either cares very deeply what people think of him, or is has decided that manipulating what people think of him is the way to get what he wants, and from the outside it makes no difference.

Zolf Smith does not care what people think of him. He isn’t even skilled at being kind and empathetic to people he cares about; he has no time for emotional manipulation or genuine charm. He doesn’t even have a fantastic grasp on his OWN feelings, let alone other people’s. He’s grounded, disinterested in frippery or appearances. Which is why Zolf and Wilde started out so deeply at odds with one another.

Despite the differences in the interpersonal approaches, they have plenty of common ground.

They are both deeply dedicated to a cause. They care about their work to the exclusion of all else. They are both pragmatists who have their own internal moral code, and are willing to bend or break other people’s rules in order to get the job done. They are fundamentally good people. Despite their rocky beginnings, they can respect each other because of these things.

And they might have maintained their mutually disdainful, begrudgingly respectful working relationship and that could have been the sum total... Except then the world fell apart. The Meritocratic organisation was initially compromised, then disintegrated. The blue vein plague isolated everyone and made it even harder to trust supposed allies. The Cult of Hades was on everyone’s ass making their life difficult, the other PCs disappeared off the face of the planet. Zolf and Wilde ended up in a situation where they had no one else they could trust.

Familiarity breeds contempt, but maybe if the contempt is already there, it builds Something Else. Wilde was stripped of his magic in a way that made it much harder for him to keep people at a distance and (pardon the pun) project the illusion of the debonair playboy. Zolf would have had the chance to see through Wilde’s masks, and get a better understanding of what parts of Wilde were a calculated tactic, and what was his genuine self.

Whatever betrayal transpired that gave Wilde his scar and hardened him, Zolf was privy to. He was either there and saw it happen, or he was close enough in the aftermath to see Wilde properly vulnerable for the first time in their friendship. Hell, maybe Zolf was the one who rescued him and patched him up. That was a chance for Zolf to realise that this insufferable man is a friend who he cares about deeply. At this point, he’s cared for awhile, but has been too wrapped up with his own spiritual difficulties to have space to admit that to himself.

And Wilde, oh Wilde, he’s desperate to be seen and known and loved, but he’s never allowed himself. He’s never felt SAFE to. He doesn’t let people get close, treats every conversation as a battle to be won. His safety and his power lies in being admired, but never loved. So even as trust and fondness for Zolf blossoms within him, he won’t for a second allow himself to hope that the fondness is reciprocated

With all that out of the way, this is my version of events.

Wilde is a slut (affectionate), and Zolf is gray-ace, so if there’s any bridging of that gap in terms of physical intimacy, it has to be from Zolf’s side. Giving canon a tender massage into place, that first instance of Zolf grabbing Wilde by the collar changes. (This happens on the Vengeance after Zolf has taught Wilde to steer the ship). Zolf drags Wilde down to say “I’m glad to see you perked up.” That moment now involves a whiskery kiss on Wilde’s cheek, and the man would be absolutely FLOORED by it.

I’m talking slow-mo glittering lights as Zolf stomps off blushing, unsure what just came over him; Wilde touches his cheek in bewilderment for a stretched moment before realising he’s completely agog, and he let go of the wheel for a dangerous length of time. Every interaction, every moment they’ve spent together over the last two years is flashing before Wilde’s eyes and a new context is being applied rapid fire. I’m talking the italacised oh kind of moment.

(on top of Zolf being witness to The Betrayal, throw some other moments of almost-intimacy into said flashbacks. I’m talking late nights, Zolf doing his gruff-yet-kind caretaker thing, cooking for Wilde, maybe sharing quiet and rare downtime with Zolf reading a Campbell novel on a couch in Wilde’s office)

Wilde is realising, “Oh this is allowed, oh this is reciprocated, this is possible.”

And of course they don’t talk about it, because what’s a slowburn if they immediately go and TALK about their feelings? No, the kiss goes completely unremarked upon, and Wilde continues to needle and tease and get under Zolf’s skin, except now with an added warmth in his eyes because he finally gets it. He finally understands that Zolf cares, that Zolf loves him, he’s just not the kind of dwarf that knows how to express it.

And Zolf, frustrated by feelings he can’t express but is beginning to understand, can hear the undertone of “haha, you looooove me,” shining through Wilde’s deliberate antagonism. They continue their time on the Vengeance just a little easier and closer to one another.

And we continue on to the death/resurrection arc, and Wilde’s spirit pushes for Zolf to open up about his feelings, because if not when he’s literally past death’s door, then when? When Zolf finally manages his “I need you,” it’s like a dam has broken for both of them. The second collar-grab and “We’ll go on a holiday or somethin’,” is now followed by a full kiss on the lips, not particularly erotic but passionate, (it’s the epitome of kissing someone to shut them up) and Wilde makes a surprised and delighted squeak that he would be glad he can’t quite remember when he returns to land of the living.

Once returned, Wilde might not remember everything that his spirit said or did, but he remembers the kiss. The comfort and ease that the two of them share in 179 (Eat Drink and Be Merry) is there, only instead of the two characters still being in a place of questioning their feelings for one another, it’s been answered.

Whether or not this relationship is sexual in nature is kind of up to you and what kind of fan works you like to read/write. I think there are wonderful scenes to be written an explored in many directions.

Wilde allowing himself to enjoy sex for intimacy and closeness instead of using it as a tool/ Zolf not being one for sex but Wilde’s never slept more soundly than when he’s being held in Zolf’s arms/ Zolf realising that the unfamiliar feeling he’s been struggling to express is the desire to rail Wilde til he cries/ Wilde realising that if his partner doesn’t want it from him, he’s actually quite content without sex/ The two of them being mean, antagonistic bastards to each other while fucking but Make It Kink (of the trusting and RACK kind). There really isn’t a single bad interpretation.

So really, I’m not doing anything different with them other than reading between the lines, giving canon a little nudge, and sticking the landing. This isn’t to disparage the concept of queer platonic partners. (I’ve got one!) or to talk shit about Ben or Alex (I DO respect their craft).

It’s just to say I find these two characters , and everything they’ve been through, PAINFULLY romantic, tropey, and delightful. I’m looking forward both to how Ben and Alex play the QPP, the fanworks I’m gonna read and hopefully write, and the inevitable tragedy that you KNOW Alex is gearing up for.

#zoscar #zolfwilde #RQG #rusty quill gaming #zolf smith #RQG Oscar Wilde #hank talks #rqg podcast #rqg meta #feel free to reblog #and to talk to me about it

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adonis-koo · 3 years

Text

to the moon and back

Summary: Sometimes the distance in relationships really does make a strain and sometimes...it can really make quite the experience, at least in your experience with your boyfriend who only lives half way across the world...

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader, theres like,,,implied Taehyung/Reader if you really squint

Genre: angst, smut,

Word Count: 6.4k

Tags: long distance relationship that I accidentally projected way too much of my own personal experience into 😃, Jungkook just really loves MC, skype sex, I am sorry, mutual masturbation, a little praise kink, Jungkook says baby in korean a lot and once again I am sorry, sex toys, a lil overstim, nothing too crazy tbh, dirty talk, dom!jungkook and sub!MC 🤑

Note: I missed ldr!Jungkook and MC which is based off this sorta imagine I did for them! So I cured it by writing a lil bit about them!! :)

“Hey Jungkook…”

The said man in question suddenly perked up from where he had been looking down, half his hair tied up and he was rubbing his eyes, he looked tired these days and sometimes you couldn’t help but feel bad. Long distance relationships weren’t always what they were cracked up to be and it wasn’t like you were intentionally looking for a ball and chain at the time...

But well, it was a long night, you were slightly drunk and in a long dry spell so you thought, what the hell? When you signed up for a sub/dom dating website. Again, your intentions weren’t to actually date someone, you were just slightly drunk and horny, and waking up the morning after your phone had been blown up by your now boyfriend. It was innocent at first, you both had a good laugh (to somewhat of your embarrassment) about the whole drunk thing and you were just curious to get to know him.

It was from there you had learned he lived halfway across the planet in South Korea and not only this but when you began exchanging photos he was by far the most beautiful man you had ever seen. One thing led to another and eventually you both decided to make it official.

You were used to this of course, you had never actually met him in person and sometimes you felt a little apprehensive to do so, you knew it would hurt Jungkook severely if he ever found out but still...sometimes it felt like you just didn’t know him as much as you wanted too.

Time zones were a literal hell, by the time you woke up he was getting ready to sleep and most the time texts weren’t sent until the next day, video calls were rare and usually had to wait until the weekend. It sucked.

Jungkook, if anything, had been trying to convince you to at least fly out to see him, he even offered to pay for your ticket as he was- ahem- apparently in the chain of business for a really well known exports corporation and was a supervisor so he lived very well off in comparison to yourself, who was still in college and buried in debt with little to no money left outside of the expenses of living.

But again, you were just...nervous...flying by yourself, to a country you had never been too, to meet a man you had never met...You knew realistically everything would be fine, Jungkook was exactly who he said he was, he wasn’t some criminal that was going to murder you and sell your body parts on the black market but…! You just wanted to be safe! To be careful even if that would never happen.

“Hm?” Jungkook hummed, it was a late saturday night for him but he always stayed up just for you, just to be able to talk to you, to see your face, even if you went hours not talking to one another while he worked and you studied. He told you he just enjoyed looking over at his monitor and seeing you.

Currently you had been curled up on your pillow scrolling on your phone and occasionally admiring your boyfriend’s side profile and strands of hair long hair that fell from his face, “Why did you learn English?”

Jungkook raised his brow a little before suddenly laughing causing you to shift a little in embarrassment feeling as though you had said something dumb, “Well,” He rasped a little, he had been brushing up on his english ever since you started dating but he was also a little self conscious of his accent despite you saying several times over how much you adored it, “English is mandatory to learn in school but I learned extensively due to my family traveling a lot for business and work. I once spent a whole year in New York when my father was employed overseas, that was actually how I became so fluent, classes are fine but experience always teaches best in my opinion....” Jungkook’s lips curled into a smile as he hummed once more, “Which means your studies in Korean would be easier if you visited…”

Flustered you rolled onto your back as you pressed your pillow against your face, “Jungkook…!” You whined wiggling in your best as you heard his laugh filter through the speaker, “I need you know I really need to stay and study for my finals, it makes up for over forty percent of my grade!”

“Not even for winter break?” Jungkook let his lips jut into a pout as he laid his chin against his hand, “Jagi I have a bed that’s way too big to sleep in all by myself, are you gonna make me downgrade?” He sighed dramatically as he fell back in his computer chair pulling his hair tie out as his hair fell at his cheeks as he began to fix it.

You ignored the heat immediately flushing between your legs at the deep rasp of his voice, “My mom’s expecting me to come home to visit for the holidays Koo…” You frowned as you peeped out from behind your pillow to find the massive pout on your boyfriend's face as he sunk in his seat.

“Sometimes I think you’re just embarrassed to tell people we’re in a relationship,” Jungkook mumbled as he sat up in his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he sulked, obviously trying not to let your rejection make him upset but even through a screen you could always read his moods, sometimes too easily.

“That is not true!” Your voice was immediately serious as you sat up, fixing your laptop as you set it in front of you, Jungkook was once more slouched in his seat, his hand resting on his cheek as he looked away from the screen, “That is not true Jungkook, I-...” You sighed, “I can’t just drop all my responsibilities here to visit you, you know this, you know hard I’ve been studying for finals and how much my family has been wanting to see me…”

Jungkook didn’t reply for a moment but you could’ve sworn you heard something akin to a scoff escape his lips, “But you still haven’t told your family...have you?”

“I haven’t had the chance…” You were immediately trying to defend your reasoning when deep down you felt bad that well...he was right...to a degree, but what were you supposed to tell you family? You met your boyfriend on an offshoot website based around sexual play and not only this but he lived half way around the world.

“You talk to your mom on the phone weekly Y/n,” The longer Jungkook looked away from the screen the more upset he was getting and you could tell and yet you felt so helpless, it wasn’t like you could just reach over and grab his face, or simply hug him and apologize. Once again, you found yourself at a loss of what to do or say.

It wasn’t that you wished you hadn’t met Jungkook, you’d never in your life change that night, but sometimes you wished things weren’t so complicated and that your fears wouldn’t get the best of you. And you did speak some truth, even if you weren’t nervous to meet Jungkook in person, it didn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t be able to go now with finals approaching and your family expecting you for the holidays.

“I’m just,” Jungkook inhaled sharply before letting out a sigh, “I just feel so frustrated sometimes, I want to be with you, not part time, half time, or only at night. I want to wake up with you in my arms every single day. And I can’t do that, hell I can’t even get a phone call during the week let alone a text at the same time of day if I’m lucky. We just had a work party where everyone brought their partners and I couldn’t bring mine because she lives in America.”

His upset was beginning to make you upset, it felt like your gut was being grinded and it wrenched in an unpleasant feeling as you spoke, “Look I’m sorry okay? I can’t help it that this is where I live, I understand you want to be with me, you don’t think I want the same thing?” You put your hand on your chest, trying to keep your voice level as you swallowed harshly, “But right now, I can’t help it Jungkook. The holidays just aren’t a good time right now…”

“Then what was the excuse during the end of the summer when you weren’t even in school and your parents didn’t want to see you?” Jungkook replied, his jaw clenched and hurt in his eyes as he questioned you, “Or was it still because you were sick in the middle of july?”

“I just met you!” You cried out now beginning to feel genuinely hurt at your boyfriend questioning the sincerity of your feelings, “I wasn’t going to fly out to Korea to meet someone I had only been talking to for three weeks! Jungkook this is-”

“I’m not embarrassed to be with you! God, that is literally the last thing on my mind right now! I’m embarrassed at the way we met, I’m embarrassed that I- I somehow have to explain to my family that my boyfriend lives in South Korea and that I’ve never met him and somehow explain to them that you aren’t some serial rapist or human trafficker out to sell my kidney! Because that’s exactly what I’m going to hear! And I’m sorry I just haven’t been ready to deal with that!” You couldn’t even stop the tears from flowing down your face as you pressed your hands to your eyes, “It’s easy for you to talk about us because you’re an adult who lives debt free by himself in his own apartment with your own secure job and you don’t have to answer or deal with anyone, even your own parents! That’s not how it is for me Jungkook.”

Your head was lowered as you tried to muffle your sobs that was the only thing that filled the loud silence that filtered the air, running your hands through your hair as you took a breath. You could hear a sigh on the other side before Jungkook spoke, “Y/n…”

“You know what,” You sniffled as you straightened up, “I’m not in the mood to talk anymore,”

“Y/n! No! Jagi listen-”

“No I’m done!” You argued back as you wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoody, “I don’t want to talk to you right now. Goodnight.” You clicked the end call button before closing down your laptop. Sitting now, staring at your distinct reflection on the black screen before bursting into a new set of tears.

Your phone’s ringtone was immediately set off as you sobbed, picking it up as you harshly punched the decline call button before it quickly popped back up on the screen only for you to press it even more vehemently. Your phone lit up several times being flooded with messages from Jungkook trying to convince you to talk to him but you immediately turned off your phone as you collapsed back against your bed, weeping against your pillow as you tried to ignore the pure hurt that filtered your veins despite it being justified.

God you shouldn’t have even said any of that to Jungkook! Really it was your fault you hadn’t seen him, you had made excuses all because you were just scared. He was probably going to break up with you now...Squeezing your pillow tight you closed your eyes as you muffled your sobs.

“Girl why are you staring at your phone?” Lisa sighed in exasperation, “Don’t tell me…Oh shit…” She sighed as she watched your eyes begin to pitfully water, “What was it this time?”

“I’m a horrible person be-because I can’t just fucking suck it up and tell my family about my boyfriend and- and I can’t just go visit him!” You were already wiping your eyes despite not even crying yet and you refused to ruin your mascara in a public store. The bookstore was quiet as ever and the barista who worked the cafe was still sorting magazines out on the rack not even paying attention to you both but still you had to keep up your ideals or else you’d be crying all the time.

“You are not a horrible person oh my god!” Lisa raised her brows before scoffing, she pointed a long acrylic nail at you as she spoke, “That boy needs to calm his hormones, you are strapped for the rest of the holidays. Y/n! Come on, seriously you need to draw some boundaries with him! Just be honest and it’s going to save you both a lot of trouble.”

You sunk in your seat as your lips began to tremble making Lisa sigh, “How many messages did he send this time?”

“Twenty four.” You mumbled.

“Jesus Christ.” Lisa groaned as she pressed her hand against her forehead, her bangs which had been melded together with hairspray not even moving an inch, “What even started this fight!?”

Lisa was not only your closest friend but most times she was also your voice of reason which you knew was most times right but still you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as you twirled your straw that poked through the lid of your iced coffee, “Well it was innocent at first, I just asked him why he learned English when he was younger and it translated into him saying experience taught him best which meant going to Korea would help me with my own language studies.”

“Why can’t you just be honest with him!? Seriously! Y/n!” She gave you her premium disappointed look as you whined, kicking your feet as you covered your hands over your face knowing she was right, but!

“That would literally crush him!” You replied feeling defeated as you slumped in your seat once more, sighing as sadness filled you, “It feels like…” You poked your tongue into your cheek as you exhaled in frustration, “No matter how hard I try, I just always end up hurting him. Jungkook would be so hurt if he knew my main reason for not wanting to see him.”

Lisa raised her brows as she scoffed, “No he would not! If he’s so desperate to jump on your pussy he’ll come to America and not only meet you but he’ll be meeting me as well the first time. This relationship is a two way street Y/n-”

“He has a whole team he’s managing Lisa, he’s told me he’d visit if he could schedule the time off but-”

“All I hear is an excuse,” Lisa clacked her tongue, “Fair is fair, you’re just being cautious as anyone should be when they’re talking to someone over the internet,” She curved a brow before snorting as she sipped her drink, “Now listen, do I think he’s a kidnapper that’s gonna kill you? No. Do I think he’s a fuckboy that just really wants to smash you? Maybe, it’s your relationship. Do what you want but regardless of whether your reasoning is legit he should respect it regardless.”

You deflated as you sighed, scrolling through his messages where he had profusely apologized several times and went on to explain that he just really wanted to be with you and never meant to dismiss your feelings on the matter. You hadn’t replied yet which made you feel even worse but truthfully, you just really wanted to talk to see him tonight on a video call and talk things over.

“Anyways, it’s time to boss up bitch,” Lisa pulled out the three textbooks from her bag before dropping them on the table as she offered a smile, “We got finals to prep for, we’re in the two week countdown so we need to cram as much as possible.”

Sighing you glanced down at your phone one last time before turning it off knowing the temptation to look over Jungkook’s messages would be too tempting. Putting your phone away you pulled out your notebook along with your own textbooks as you nodded, “You’re right, it’ll at least take my mind off of it…”

You could only hope.

You had spent the last ten minutes trying to gas yourself up, Jungkook had stopped texting around lunch time having obviously given up and giving you space as this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened and he knew if he just gave you time you’d eventually reach out to him.

Like right now, except you felt severely embarrassed for your actions this morning and you knew you could have handled things in a better and more mature way then you had, regardless you were struggling to even send a text at the moment let alone video call him...Checking the clock on your phone you sighed, it was already 1pm in Seoul....

Jungkook if anything was probably on his computer sulking while playing video games as he usually did on his weekends off when he wasn’t talking to you. Sucking in a breath you knew you needed to talk to him now because if you didn’t you’d have to go the whole week with stale texts that never went over well and you weren’t working with much to begin with, you didn’t want to make it worse. Sighing, you sat down on your bed as you began to type.

[10:25]

‘I’m sorry I haven’t replied to any of your messages :( can you video right now?’

You chewed on your lip anxiety immediately spiking in your head as you wondered if you came across too much like a victim...Or maybe you should’ve just not mentioned the not replying to his messages and just asked if-

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the skype call sounding with Jungkook’s name under it, grabbing your chest you collapsed onto the bed as you made yourself comfortable, shying away from the camera as you grabbed your pillow in insecurity before accepting the call.

“I really am sorry Jagi,” You couldn’t even open your mouth before Jungkook’s worried expression showed up on your laptop, the hoodie covering his head and just as you expected his puppy like eyes were glossed and filled with sadness, “I- I didn’t realize how much stress you were under and I shouldn’t have been so careless. This is the only time during the week that I get to see you and I really don’t want to argue…”

You curled up against your pillow as you mumbled, “I should be the one apologizing, I know how much it means to you for us to be able to see each other in person and I need to make the time for us to be able to do that it’s just…” You had meant to tell him the truth but- “I just have a lot going on right now but I didn’t mean to take that out on you, I know you just want us to be together...”

“Oh jagiya,” Jungkook sighed, longing filled his face and his fingers twitched a little as they ran through his hair as if wishing he could just hold you close to him, “It’s okay, I’m just glad you wanted to talk. I didn’t want the whole week to drag by without being able to talk to you, you know you always make my day better…”

And just like that your chest blossomed with warmth as you curled up, hiding the smile that began to creep on your lips as you squeezed your pillow, “Not as much as you make my day. Especially when you send those tease pictures for me right before I need to go to bed.” You would never get enough of that addictive feeling of talking to Jungkook, his smile was always infectious.

And just like that you watch, just like every other time, in amazement at the way Jungkook’s personality switches like a light, the innocent sweet smile that was once on his lips is suddenly twisted into a cocky smirk and he leans back his chair, his long hair is slightly messy but just enough to make him look truly wicked, “Oh? Is that right gongjunim? I thought you’d appreciate it?”

Said photo in question was sent thursday night when you were prepping for bed and Jungkook had very obviously just gotten out of the shower in the mirror selfie he had sent that displayed the chiseled abdomen and broad chest and not to mention the….ahem package he was sporting beneath the thin towel that he had purposely clutched with his free hand.

Yeah...that nearly destroyed your right hand.

“Well I did…” You immediately coiled up, no matter how many times this happens with your boyfriend- which is nearly every weekend, you always end up getting shy despite your thighs furiously pressing together and wetness building up in your panties, “Maybe a little too much…”

Jungkook pressed his tongue into his cheek as his smirk widened, just his stare made you press your face into the pillow as you heard his chuckle, “What? What did you do?”

The fact that he skipped to the golden question made you whine as you kicked your feet, you could hear another laugh from him as you curled up once more, “You know…” You mumbled, feeling your face burn as you pressed it against the pillow.

“No baby I don’t.” Jungkook pouted but his voice rasped and something about saying baby in english with that accent of his had your fingers twitching as he puffed a breath of air in cockiness as he hummed, “Why don’t you tell me hm?”

Shifting against the bed you shook your head, “You know what I’m talking about…”

“Do I?” Jungkook challenged as he raised a brow, his beginning to clench as he slipped into his dominant headspace, tucking his tongue into his cheek as he asked, “If you can’t use your words would you rather show me? Be a good girl and show me, yeah?”

Your words were muffled as you replied, “I had help…” Your face felt like it was practically on fire as you rubbed your legs together as you heard him laugh, “Then be a good girl and go get it jagiya, I’ll still be here.” You gave Jungkook a good laugh as you nearly scrambled out of bed to get your bullet vibrator off it’s charger before diving back on the bed making your laptop bounce as you sat up right.

Jungkook meanwhile had pulled off his sweatshirt and repositioned his camera to expose his lower body, the familiar sight of his plump cherry lips exposed in that forever tainted smirk as he made himself comfortable in his chair, his thighs spreading apart and the indent in his sweats showing off proudly, “Good girl kitty, now I want you to take off your clothes, all of it.”

You wiggled in your comfy sweatshirt feeling a little shy as you began to shed your clothes, “The bra too baby,” Jungkook coaxed as he licked his lips, his cock tightening and becoming harder at the sight of your flustered, shy expression as you unhooked your bra, there was nothing more this man wanted then to suckle on your nipples that immediately hardened against the chilled air of the room.

Jungkook’s hand found its way to his bulge as he palmed himself through his grey sweats, “Panties too baby, I know you’re shy but you need to be a good girl and take them off. And remember your words.” He added with a low growl.

“...Yes sir.” You mumbled, feeling chilly and exposed to nothing more then the camera on your laptop and Jungkook of course before you pulled off the panties you wore, arousal sticking to the fabric that stringed before you tossed them aside, your eyes unable to stay off his hand that kept stroking his bulge.

“Good girl,” His lips twitched into a sadistic smile, “Now spread your legs jagiya and show me what you did to that photo I sent you, every little detail baby.” You whined as you looked away from the camera, “Jagiya…” Jungkook’s voice deepened a little in warning, “Are you gonna make me get out the controller?”

Outwardly you’d completely deny that but inwardly....The idea nearly had you frothing out the mouth, but reluctantly you did as he asked, the chilled air nipping at your exposed warm wet folds had your levels of arousal that much higher and you could hear a soft verbal moan from Jungkook as he squeezed his hand over his cock, “Shibal,” He muttered a few other words in korean that you could only half make out before he spoke once more, “You’re so fucking wet baby. Play with yourself, don’t make me wait.”

Tenderly you slipped your hand between your thighs, flinching a little at the cold that seeped from your fingers that met in opposition to the heat radiating off your cunt, arousal met your fingertips as you dragged them up you slit before rubbing slow circles around your clit, your lips parting a little at the idea of it being his fingers doing this to you.

Jungkook let out a little scoffed laugh, licking his lips as he pulled down his sweats just enough to free his throbbing cock, a sight you’d never fully get used too and had your mouth watering at just the sight. He was much thicker then he was long but he certainly wasn’t short, the vein on the underside of his cock displayed and you could even see his tip beginning to weep as it became red, “How bad do you wish those were my fingers playing with that little clit baby? Put those fingers inside your cunt baby,lay back and use your toy to make yourself feel good for me.

Situating your laptop before you laidback, opening your legs once more as you began to transition to your subspace as you closed your eyes, imagining his fingers dragging up your inner thighs.

Letting your eyes open you whined at the sight of lube slipping from his cock as his hand slowly pumped his shaft, his lips parted at the sight of one finger slipping inside your cunt before pulling out and adding a second finger. You could just imagine those long thick fingers filling you up while fitting up against your g-spot.

Fumbling with your vibrator you turned it on, switching the setting to a low pattern before carefully placing it on your aching bud. You had anticipated your reaction just as you did everytime and yet every time you still jolted, your walls tightly squeezing around your fingers as a whined squeak escaped your lips.

“Fuck princess that’s it,” Jungkook edged you on, his tongue in his cheek as his hand squeezed around his cock before he used his free hand to grab his own toy, the fleshlight that nearly always turned you into a mess, “Bet that little hole can hardly fit your own fingers let alone my big fat cock, right baby? Yeah?”

Your thighs were twitching as pleasure was rapidly buzzing against your clit and your walls kept squeezing around your fingers as you desperately tried to reach to your g-spot in need for an orgarsm to make up for all the anxiety and stress you had been under the whole day, “Yes! Yes sir! Ah- Mmph need you! Fuck, please! Sir.” You whimpered as your hips jolted to fuck back against your fingers.

Jungkook pushes the opening of the flashlight over his tip as he let out a soft moan, his hips fluidly began thrusting to the point your walls were so tight you could hardly move your fingers just at the idea of his cock forcing its way inside you, you just knew this mans stroke game was good and proved it every fucking time he took out that toy.

Watching his cock disappear with every thrust inside his toy as his lips parted a little wider this time, “You want this baby? You wish this was your pussy I’m fucking nice and deep?”

Your body was too excited for all of his dirty talk as you squirmed shifting the buzzing vibrator to the sweet spot of your clit as you squeaked, trying to keep yourself from being too loud as your roommate was home, “Want it! Want it so fucking bad! Please sir! Sir!”

You were embarrassingly horny and this made worked you up every single time, your hips we’re stumbled and your walls were rapidly clenching in excitement as his thick cock rocking it’s way in and out of the toy that you could just imagine was your pussy he was fucking nice and slow, making you feel his nice fat cock with every killer slow thrust.

“Oh Jagiya,” Jungkook moaned out, “Don’t tell me my kitten is already close?” He chuckled as he watched the way your body withered the way it always did when you were close, his eyes feasting on the way your pussy was stretched so delicately against your small fingers and the way your thighs clenched and your feet kicked, “Do you need to cum so soon?”

“Please! Please! Sir! I- I don’t think I can-“ Your thighs clamped together as your lips fell open, unable to even wait for his blessing as your orgasm ripped through your body, your toes curling as little whimpers escaped you, you could hear a long moan from Jungkook as you liddedly watched his hips stumble against his flesh light, hand running through his hair while he fumbled something in Korean.

“Baby fuuck,” Jungkook’s voice lowered as he moaned, “Cum again princess, cum for me baby I wanna hear you make those noises again for me. Keep those little fingers stuffed inside yourself.” Jungkook’s hips kept stuttering against his toy, his cock throbbing desperate as his moans became breathy at the sight of you obeying him. You were always such a good girl.

Your fingers were aching but your desire to watch him come undone was even greater as you began pushing your fingers back against your g-spot once more, feathery whines escaping you at the feeling of pain beginning to mix with pleasure at the consistent thrum of the vibrator against your clit.

“Ah! S-sir…!” You whimpered quietly as your walls suddenly clamped around your fingers once more, “I- ah! I don’t think I can…!”

“Yes you can,” Jungkook growled his hips bucking up into his toys faster his cock throbbing and squeezing in pleasure at the sight of your arousal slipping from your soaked cunt and the sight of your tits bouncing at the way your body kept squirming, he could only imagine what it would be like fucking you tied up and left to his mercy, “And you will,” He snapped with command, “You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me again princess. I wasn’t fucking asking.”

Your legs immediately twitched and your breath hitched as you cried out, your back arching at the way your body listened to him so easily on command, your walls tightening around your fingers rapidly and pleasure seered into your clit as the orgasm roughly filled your body, “Ah Jungkook! Fuck, fuck, fuck…! Fuck! Ooh!” Moans escaped you louder then you intended as your hips desperately fucked into your fingers to ride the powerful orgasm you experienced.

Jungkook moaned softly as his hips bucked one last time into his toy before cum was filling it up at the idea of milking all of himself in your little warm cunt, letting his hips swivel as he milked every last drop of cum from his cock as he moaned before relaxing back in his chair.

Chuckling a little at watching your lower body scramble at your vibrator continuing to drill against your over stimulated clit as you struggled to turn it off, “Take your fingers out baby, I wanna see them.” Jungkook licked his lips as you obeyed him, pulling your fingers from your cunt to reveal the thick layer of arousal and cum on them nearly making Jungkook’s mouth water with the desire to lick every drop off your fingers, this man couldn’t even describe what he’d do to go down on you.

“Ah fuck, jagiya,” Jungkook laughed, a little flustered at the way you sat up, looking directly into the camera before putting your fingers in your mouth, licking off the salty and somewhat musky taste of your arousal which in your opinion wasn’t that great and Jungkook would never accept your opinion on the matter, “You’re gonna make me hard all over again.” He whined as he carefully pulled the toy off his cock, feeling the white substance already rolling down his softening shaft to reveal the mess he had made.

You giggled a little, feeling shy once more as you stood up with wobbling legs, “I don’t have to help with that.” You called out, grabbing your favorite sweatshirt to pull over your body. It was your favorite because...Well because Jungkook had sent it to you and because it was big on him it was massive on you.

You absolutely adored it, coming back in view you collapsed onto your bed as you curled up, Jungkook had just finished cleaning himself up, fixing his camera for you to see the beautiful radiant smile and eyes light up that was your boyfriend. He always had that dreamy look in his eyes while looking at you everytime you finished having Skype sex and everytime it always made you shy as you grabbed your pillow and curled up.

“You’re always so fucking good baby,” He groaned as he ran a hand through his hair, his smile permanently on his face as he stared in adoration at your curled up figure that was practically buried in his sweatshirt, “Mmm you were such a good girl too, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head when I told you to cum again.”

He had a boyish laugh at the way you curled up, “Stoop! You know I was already overstimulated, you better hope my roommate didn’t hear anything…!” You covered your face in embarrassment at the realization you were a little loud.

Jungkook’s face stiffened a little at the mention of your roommate before he tried to play it off with a small laugh, “Yeah well, what’s he gonna do about it anyways? You were just being my good little girl jagiya.” You covered your face in semi embarrassment. You knew Jungkook was redirecting the conversation back to verbal aftercare because you knew he didn’t like the fact that your roommate was a guy who was not only your age but also very attractive.

It wasn’t like Taehyung was ever interested in you, but you had mentioned to Jungkook when you first started talking that you used to have a crush on him. You felt as though some days that still lingered in Jungkook’s mind despite the fact that you didn’t even look at Taehyung twice anymore.

Especially since you and Jungkook became an item, however you also hadn’t told Jungkook that Taehyung had been...Well you weren’t sure what he was doing to be honest outside a few innuendos and winks. It mainly weirded you out as he had never paid any attention to you but regardless. This wasn’t about your roommate, this was about your amazing, handsome boyfriend who somehow managed to make you cum twice just by the sound of his voice, not everything could do that.

“You make it difficult to try and disobey.” You mumbled as a smile tugged in your lips, closing your eyes at the idea of his arms wrapped tight around you and his forehead pressed against your own, you could almost feel his warm breath against your face and his lips pressing against your forehead.

“Mmm id like to see you try,” Jungkook laughed as he leaned back his seat, letting out a content sigh as he spoke, “I’d make you wear those vibrating panties the whole day after making you overestimate yourself and I’d make sure to wake up every hour just to hold that button for three minutes straight.”

“You’re so mean!” You whines as you fluttered your feet before crawling under your covers as you yawned, “You’re already planning a punishment when I haven’t even done anything wrong.”

“I’m not!” Jungkook laughed as he objected, moving his hair from his face, “I’m just telling you what would’ve happened if you weren’t obedient. I mean, that’s not always a bad thing baby.” He sent a wink your way that immediately made your cheeks warm as you pressed your face against the blanket with a giggle.

“I can’t do that over a video call…! Maybe if you were here in my bed I’d be a little more defiant.” You always had a hard time trying to flirt confidently but Jungkook always ate it up every single time you threw him a crumb.

“Jagiya if you can’t be defiant over a call what makes you think you’d manage it when I’m between your legs sucking the soul out of your pussy?” Jungkook was immediately cackling at the way you shoved your face into your pillow with a whine, “Exactly baby, you can’t even look at me right now.” He cooed out.

“Well maybe I’m just a little more bold in person.” You challenged, peeping out from behind your pillow making Jungkook chuckle as he shook his head, his eyes filled with adoration as he leaned back in his seat.

“Well sweetheart I’ll just have to see for myself one day huh?” Jungkook’s smile was so beautiful, it was arguably one of your favorite features as he spoke, “You know I love you to the moon and back jagiya.”

“Well I love you love you to the stars and beyond,” You whispered back as you hugged your pillow close, closing your eyes sleepily as you smiled….One day...Hopefully you’d overcome your anxiety soon to make the one day become soon, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand being apart from the one person who would never stop making your day.

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #ldr!jungkook

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laynefaire · 2 years

Text

2021 Writing Year End Review

I’ve been tagged by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed, @ladyaj-13, and @kingsofeverything to do a review of my 2021 writing. I did this for 2020 as well. I initially declined doing this because I wrote so very little this year, however after being harangued by @lululawrence and @allwaswell16 I am conceding defeat and doing the thing.

1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 5 (including a WIP)

Shadow Dancing (149365 words and counting)

The Only Pain in Pleasure is the Pleasure of the Pain (10674 words)

Eye of the Storm (100 words)

It's All About the Driver (100 words)

Where Dragons Dwell (100 words)

2. Word count posted for the year: 160.339 words posted (that doesn’t count the 20K sitting in docs)

3. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction, Zayn Malik

4. Pairings: Ziam, side Larry

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: Shadow Dancing (148)

Bookmarks: Shadow Dancing (72)

Comments: Shadow Dancing (94 comment threads - I don’t want to count total comments, since I did reply to almost every one I received on it)

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): Even though it’s not done yet, I am definitely most proud of Shadow Dancing. It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written, and I’ve done a literal shit ton of research in an effort to ensure the worldbuilding is as plausible as possible. I have over 100 saved links and documents in my research folders - covering topics ranging from boxing, firefighting, ballet, dance studios, and fire restoration, to head trauma, smoke inhalation, UK hospital systems, UK fire brigades, and the West Midlands.

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): I don’t have anything I’m not proud of, but many things about my writing that I’m disappointed in - mostly my inability to make a damn deadline this year.

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: I can not single out any one comment as being a favorite, because truly every single comment, no matter how simple it is, means the absolute world to me. It still amazes me that there are people who genuinely enjoy reading what I write enough to leave any comment at all.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: I have had a shit ton of personal challenges this year that I’ve struggled with - and ones that go way beyond being an essential worker during a global pandemic. My friends in my group chats know most of it, and have been incredibly supportive while I’ve been working through things, but there have been far too many times this year when even their unwavering support and encouragement was not enough to get me to open my laptop and buckle down to write.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: The way the characters in general have developed in Shadow Dancing. They are very little like I had initially envisioned them when I first started drafting this story, but they are so much more developed and ‘alive’ than I could have ever imagined.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: This is a huge excerpt, but I couldn’t cut it any tighter without losing the feel for it . Referring back to the aforementioned firefighting scenes - here’s this one from Chapter 13 of Shadow Dancing -

“Liam! You can’t go in there.” Louis insisted, already grabbing his own gear and placing himself in front of Liam to prevent him from entering the building.

Liam advanced on Louis, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he growled through gritted teeth. “Louis, grab a pipe and come with, or get the fuck out of my way. Either way, I’m going in.”

“Fuck!” Louis pressed his radio. “Delta 2-3-1 Alpha to Command. Is occupancy confirmed?”

“Negative.”

”Delta 2-4-2 Alpha to Command.” Liam glared at Louis while he spoke to command. “Private residence on second level. Stairs on C. No other known egress. Permission to access.”

“Access granted Delta 2-4-2 Alpha. Overhead integrity is questionable. Scan for civilians and retreat.”

“Roger Command.” Liam motioned to Michaels to follow him. “Delta 2-4-2 Alpha moving in.”

“Delta 2-3-1 Alpha to Command. Delta 2-3-1 Beta on ground floor. Request permission to cover Delta 2-4-2 Alpha on second level.”

“Permission granted, Delta 2-3-1 Alpha.”

Liam took the steps two at time, Louis on his heels, their seconds following with the hoses. The flames from the adjoining roof cast a wall of heat across the stairs and Liam recoiled as it washed over him. He pressed his hand to the door, checking for signs of potential backdraft. Grimly he waited for Louis’ confirmation, slamming his shoulder into the door to break it open once he had it. The door fell inward, swinging wide on the broken hinges. Liam entered the flat, yelling for Zayn. Smoke filled the air, killing their range of visibility. He waved Louis and his second toward the living room, motioning for Michaels to follow him down the hallway. The crackling of the fire grew louder, flames licking along the edges of the wall shared with the bakery. Liam called for Zayn again, shoving open the bathroom door, then the bedroom. Waving the smoke out of his field of vision, Liam advanced into the room, scanning every corner, finding nothing.

“Delta 2-3-1 Alpha to Delta 2-4-2 Alpha and Command.” Louis’ voice crackled through the radio. “Living room clear.”

“Affirmative Delta 2-3-1 Alpha.” Liam replied, struggling to keep his tone impartial while everything in him was screaming with the urgent need to know Zayn was safe. “Scan complete. Zero civilians. Lay cover and retreat.”

Michaels opened the pipe and Liam took lead, directing a steady stream of water on the walls. The ceiling overhead heaved, sparks raining down around them, the radio erupting in Liam’s ear.

“ROLLOVER! DELTA 2-4-2 ALPHA! DELTA 2-3-1 ALPHA! RETREAT NOW!”

Liam directed the nozzle up, just as a whooshing roar enveloped them, the ceiling erupting in a full blaze, chunks of plaster falling around them. A flaming joist broke loose, and Liam shoved Michaels out of the way, taking the full brunt of the fiery beam across his head and shoulders. He grabbed his radio as he collapsed under its weight, sending out a distress signal just before he lost consciousness.

“DELTA 2-4-2 ALPHA DOWN! REPEAT! DELTA 2-4-2 ALPHA DOWN!”

13. How do you hope to grow next year: I want to explore some different tropes/genres in the coming year and try to stretch my wings into new areas.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): The Fat Bird Chat and The Panic Room chat on WhatsApp. The friends I’ve made in both of those chats have been essential to my maintaining any semblance of my sanity over the course of the last 12 months. I am also so so grateful for @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed, @fallinglikethis, and @fearlesslysweetcreature for their unflagging support on Shadow Dancing . They’ve walked with me through so many iterations of scenes, dealt with my 2AM freak-outs, patiently handled with my compulsive need to nitpick details, and just generally have bolstered me when I feel like it’s all garbage and I should delete the lot.

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: Only my undying love for Liam James Payne.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Be kind to yourself. Believe in yourself. Don’t be afraid to reach out to other writers or your friends when you’re struggling - whether it’s to vent to them, to have someone to commiserate with, or to find the motivation to keep writing. I have never met a more supportive group of writers than the ones in this fandom, and they are all so generous with their time and talents.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: FINISH SHADOW DANCING! I’m not planning to sign up for too much this year, as I want to focus on finishing up the myriad WIPS I have been toying with for far too long. Besides the fest fics I didn’t get finished this year, I have several started stories that I need to either finish or pull the plug on completely. I’m also hoping to finally tackle the Drarry ideas that have been lingering in my docs because I’ve been too afraid to do anything with them. Maybe. Hopefully.

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. I’m not going to tag anyone new, as it seems like every writer I know has already been tagged! However if you’re reading this, are a writer, and haven’t been tagged yet - please feel free to consider this your tag. I’d love to see your answers.

#2021 year in review #year end writing evaluation #my writing

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somegreysfics · 3 years

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Tag 10 mutuals or however many and describe what you like about them💜

@afsalta - aly! I love how you always think of others even when you’ve things going on in your own life that requires the majority of your attention. you’re one of the most selfless and funniest people I know and I love knowing I can always count on you for advice whether it has to do with my writing or personal life <33 you are such an amazing friend and I am sending all my love and support to you

@amelnk - kat! you’re such a lovely person and I’ve enjoyed talking to you quite a bit more as of late! you’ve overcome so many events in your life and that alone shows how strong and inspiring you are— with that being said I love how you’ve the ability to put a smile on everyone’s faces despite all the things you’re dealing with. you are truly one of a kind and so very amazing <33

@clo-q - clo! I really appreciate how quickly you reply to anyone’s need for help with their fics! I’ve noticed you’re always there to proof read or give advice and I love how the advice you give is so well written. you’re so very kind and I think I can speak on behalf of everyone when I say you are a beautiful person inside and out as well as incredibly talented writer <33 thank you for all that you do

@dakotasgreenkitchen - a! I love how much you love rings, dakota johnson and saoirse ronan <33 you’re so so stunning and I’ve absolutely loved getting to know you and your beautiful personality over these past couple of months. you’ve such a kind soul and you very much deserve all the happiness in the world. know that I will always always always be here for you no matter the time of day!

@eloquenceflores - kennedy! you’re the very first person I ever followed on this blog and I’m so very happy I did just that! I love how you’re so easy to talk to and how I can always count on you to put a smile on my face— seeing you on my dashboard or in my inbox brightens my day <33 I’m so very thankful to have gotten to chat with you over these past few months

@greys-for-days - allison! you are so so kind and I love how you’re always so supportive of not only my fics but everyone else’s as well! you leaving so many sweet comments under them means the world and I love that you take the time out of your day to do that, even knowing you don’t have to <33 you’ve such a kind heart and I’m glad to have stumbled upon your amazing blog!

@hurricanery - riley! first off, I love how passionate you are about star signs— every time someone mentions any star sign I now instantly think of you! I also love how you put so much effort and thought into each and every one of your fics. I’m always so amazed by your writing and you truly need to give yourself more credit because I can assure you you deserve every single bit of it <33

@oboevallis - reagan! I love that you stalk the songs I’m listening to on spotify <33 I also love how you’ve the ability to write such amazing fics— I look forward to every new post of yours and I’m very glad that we became mutuals this summer. you’re such an easy going person which I absolutely love as it assures me I can always talk to you and be myself while doing so!

@stardstgf - chloe! you are so very genuine and sympathetic and I appreciate every single thing you’ve done for me <33 you’ve helped me (and are currently helping me) through a really difficult time and I’ve absolutely no clue how I’ll ever be able to make it up to you— knowing I can always message you about absolutely anything means the world to me! you’re so so beautiful and I’m so thankful to have someone like you as a friend

@thedefinitionofendgame - kaykay! you never fail to make me smile and I love how if I’ve a question regarding anything you’re there to reply within minutes! I very much love how you stand up for everybody even if you’re not incredibly close with them, and I love that you love to write as reading your fics makes me so very happy! you’re such a joyful person with the most contagious smile <33

#anon ask #game

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

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breaking the rules

request from anon: Your writing is truly amazing!! I just read your fake dating with Georgie and I loved it!! I was wondering you would be up to writing a fake dating piece with Freddie?!☺️

word count: 6.9k sorry i keep getting carried away

A/N: ugh. my heart. i cannot deal. thank you all for being so kind, day after day, with each and every piece i write. and thank you, also, for being so patient. i know it’s taking me a while to sift through these requests. it means the world to me! love you all tons

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover | message me if you’d like to be added lovelies!

“Hey, Y/N! Would you mind, for the sake of the entire team, to not be so bloody brilliant during every single match? You’re making us look bad.”

You smile, clutching the quaffle to your chest as you zoom rapidly through the air, leaving dust in your wake as you fly past the Slytherin team members, leaving them baffled and confused before they can fully register just exactly what’s going on. You hoist the quaffle through the hoop and hear a loud roar from the Gryffindor section; you must be up by a hundred points by now. You see Malfoy near the goal posts on the opposite side, looking positively murderous.

You make your way around the interior of the pitch, only to reply to Fred Weasley as you pass by, “I can try, but—don’t you want to win?”

A hearty laugh escapes his lips, and he’s pummeling bludgers left and right with his twin by his side. He wonders now, watching you, if Gryffindor would be as good as they are without you on the team. You’re probably one of the most talented Chasers Gryffindor has seen in years, he reckons. He knew it the first time he saw you mount a broom in a flying lesson your first year at Hogwarts. Since then, inseparable you two had been.

There’s a light, airy feel to the match, which is, to Fred’s surprise, nothing at all what he had expected this morning, especially with Slytherin being the opponent. But you seem to be more in rhythm with the wavelengths of this match than ever before, to the point where Harry is actually taking his time to try and find the snitch—he’s making Malfoy sweat it out a bit.

But when a nasty bludger smacks the end of your broom and you’re knocked to the ground, landing painfully on your arm, Madam Hooch begins shouting out punishments at the Slytherin beaters, McGonagall is rushing to your side with Madam Pomfrey, and Fred, George, and Harry are nearly kicking Malfoy into the ground when his sickeningly irritating mock laughter floats in the air between them.

— -

“Merlin—is a side effect of drinking too much Skele-Gro that you end up a bottomless pit?” you ask nobody in particular as you continue to shovel eggs, toast, bacon and sausage into your mouth. Next to you, George laughs and pats you on the shoulder.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he tells you.

You peer over and smile—your bones in your arm are fully restored, but still in a sling; Madam Pomfrey had insisted. Across the table, Fred is looking rather sullen indeed.

“Brighten up, would you, Weasley?” you kick him playfully under the table and his stoic face breaks into a toothy smile. He’s feeling rather guilty, he is. Wasn’t able to stop the bludger in time. Neither was George. As if you’re reading his thoughts, you tell him, “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“Yeah,” he replies, stirring his spoon in his cup of tea. A bit too loudly, he continues, “Slimy Slytherin beaters—”

“Easy,” you say in a low voice, as the entirety of the Slytherin Quidditch team glances over at your table, and Fred’s gripping his fork tightly in his other hand. “Don’t need any more of us taken out of the next match, do we?”

Another safety measure of Madam Pomfrey’s. No Quidditch for a few weeks, at least. This means, of course, missing the next match: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. You’d tried to fight it, but when her mouth had formed into a thin line and she’d crossed her arms indignantly, you knew there was no changing her mind.

Why is it, Fred thinks to himself now, that Slytherins tend to get away with everything? The punishment of the two beaters was absolutely nothing like he’d expected—one detention each with Snape, who had basically grinned at the sight of your broken arm and shoulder. He’s so bloody tired of it, he wants to give them a taste of their own medicine. Perhaps, if he picks George’s brain, he can think of something—

His thoughts are interrupted when you kick him again under the table. “Hello—earth to Freddie?”

“Sorry,” he replies, biting into his toast, “what did you say?”

“I was saying—” you begin, and Fred notices his twin is now down a few seats talking with Ron and Ginny, leaving you two alone, “would you mind helping me pack up my bag after breakfast? It’s proving rather difficult with one arm since I have this sling across my other shoulder—”

Before you can finish, you both hear a group of Hufflepuffs from the table over discussing something animatedly. Fred catches bits and pieces of the conversation—he swears he hears ‘bludgers’ and ‘poor girl’ quite a few times. Before he knows it, they’re standing up and waltzing over to the Gryffindor table—more specifically, toward you.

“Oh bloody hell,” you mumble under your breath and look at Fred with wide eyes. You don’t need to say anything else for him to understand. Leading the pack of distraught looking Hufflepuffs is—Fred’s least favorite person in the entire world, and that’s including Malfoy—your ex boyfriend.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says awkwardly as he approaches the table at once before you and Fred are able to escape. He looks down at your shoulder and says in a tone Fred can’t decipher as sarcastic or genuine, “real sorry about your arm. Terrible thing those beaters did. Are you okay?”

With a slight eye roll from you and a laugh he tries very hard to suppress, Fred finds himself lost in his thoughts again. He’s transported almost immediately to the common room, to a very late Monday night after a very long detention with Professor McGonagall.

When he sprang through the portrait hole that evening, ready to divulge to you just exactly how he’d landed himself in detention the night you were both supposed to continue your weekly Monday traditions of exploding snap over small glasses of Butterbeer, he was a bit taken aback when he saw you crying in the corner, peering out of a window at the starry night sky. Immediately, his insides turned.

“Y/N?’ he asked when he finally reached you, nervous of how you were going to react to his very late arrival.

You sniffled a bit and wiped your tears away with your shirtsleeve. He felt surprised when you said softly, with no twinge of anger, “W-where’ve you been?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, sitting across from you on the window ledge. He let his bag fall to his feet with a dull thump. “McGonagall caught Georgie and me right after class—I was dragged to immediate detention without being able to come back to the common room to tell you—I could use a good butterbeer right now..” but his voice trailed off when he noticed that you weren’t really listening. Your eyes were letting tears escape with no effort, and he spotted your hands trembling against your knees. You weren’t upset about the game of exploding snap. His heart sank into his chest when he realized this was something deeper. “Hey,” he said, placing a hand over yours, “are you okay?”

“H-he,” you started, and Fred could tell that you were embarrassed. You couldn’t even look him in the eye. “It’s over. He broke up with me.”

“W..what?” Fred asked, his hands suddenly felt extremely cold. He squeezed your knee and waited.

“He said he.. sees me as a friend,” you told him, and Fred shook his head in utter shock, “he doesn’t.. feel anything a-anymore. I think..” you continued, your voice slightly higher than before, “I think there’s s-someone else.”

You threw your head into your hands and began wailing. Fred had never, ever, ever seen you cry before, but he didn’t like it. He wanted to do everything in his power to make it stop, make you smile, make you happy.

“What a complete git,” he told you before pulling you into his arms. You were nearly on his lap. You rested your head on his chest and let out painful sobs for a few minutes while he thought, in a panicked state, of words to say. You’d always been tough. Independent. Happy-go-lucky. So to see you in this emotional, co-dependent, messy state—he felt strange. Off balance. It made his heart hurt.

“Hey,” he said after a few minutes once your tears seemed to slow, “how about we make you some tea, get you into some comfortable pyjamas, and then we can talk through it—how does that sound?” When he noticed you were about to argue after pointing to the butterbeer and cards on the table even though he knew you didn’t really want to play, he continued, “Nah—not really in the mood to get my arse kicked by you tonight.”

You laughed through a hiccup and squeezed his hand tightly before pulling his arms around you again. “First, can you—can you just stay here with me?”

He felt you tense up beside him and he knew that you were trying your hardest to fight back more tears rising to the surface. He pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms tighter around you, enclosing you in the warmth from his own body.

“Okay then,” he replied and felt you relax beside him, “I can do that.”

“Maybe we can—we can talk it over.” Fred’s brought back to the present when he feels yet another light blow to his shin from you under the table. He blinks and looks into your eyes, which are wide, and he feels himself go weirdly alert.

“I don’t think so,” you say to your ex now, almost laughing a bit; he’s looking rather annoyed and stunned at being turned down. You swallow over a lump in your throat, “Besides, I’m—I’m seeing someone else, so, I think you’d better leave.”

“What?” he says breathlessly, almost looking heartbroken. Is he trying to mend his ways after watching you hit the ground with a loud splat! a few days ago? Fred’s insides turn. “Since when?”

“Since..a few weeks ago.” Fred can sense the panic in your voice as he watches your eyes shift from your ex to your breakfast plate and to him, a cherry red color flooding your cheeks and the tips of your ears. And without a second thought, you say, “Right, Fred?”

And Fred’s agreeing before he can fully digest your words, he’s nodding without breaking your gaze, he’s smirking at you without remembering there are other people around him. Finally, he looks up into the very baffled face of your ex boyfriend. “Yeah, we are—so—I’d bugger off if I were you, mate.”

“You two?” he asks, looking at Fred with what can only be described as pure anguish. “Together?”

“It’s time to go,” whispers another Hufflepuff, pulling the very distraught looking boy in front of you both back to their table before he can say anything else to you. Fred watches as he slumps in his seat and rubs his head, as if confused. Then, he turns back to you and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, Freddie, I’m sorry!” you shake your head rather quickly and bring a hand to your mouth in shock. “I panicked, I just—he kept trying to ask me to grab lunch with him, I didn’t know what to say to get him to leave me alone, ‘m so mortified. We can just—pretend it never happened, you don’t have to do anything, I can just deal with whatever it is he has planned, it’s fine—”

“Hey.. take a breath,” he laughs and teases you before reaching across the table and squeezing your hand. “It’s fine, I get it. Besides,” he takes a quick bite of an apple and smirks at you, “I’m honored you chose me to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Well, you’re the only one here, silly.”

He pauses to consider this, and then says, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and tell you again how honored I am.” You laugh at this, and he grins cheekily at you as he continues, “I mean, imagine if you’d done that to George, he would’ve stumbled over his words—you know how he gets under pressure sometimes—gets flabbergasted, he does. You’re lucky ‘m quick on my feet.”

“Well then,” you reply, sipping your tea as Fred watches your nerves subside, “glad to have you along for the ride, Weasley.”

— -

It’s difficult watching the team’s practice. Fred had told you to maybe stay in, not watch, he’d fill you in later on your replacement. You’d insisted on coming anyway. But he was right.

They’re not completely out of sync—the third year Chaser they snatched up is pretty good for never having really played before. But if Fred’s being completely honest, he misses you on the pitch more than anything else. It’s just not the same without you.

You enter the Great Hall for dinner, and you’re so annoyed at doing everything one-armed that you nearly rip the sling right off of your shoulder, even though Madam Pomfrey had insisted on wearing it for two more days. Okay, maybe you did it a little too fast. “Ow,” you say, rotating your shoulder back and forth to stretch the muscles, as if they’d been asleep for months and months. You furrow your brow in pain.

Fred snorts before sipping his pumpkin juice. “How’d that feel?”

“Not the greatest,” you admit, taking a seat next to him.

Just then, he slings an arm around your shoulder and places a light kiss to your forehead, taking you by surprise. You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. He places his cup gingerly on the table. “Git sighting, on your right.”

You stealthily look on the other end of the Great Hall, your ex trying his best to look distracted, but there’s no chance in hell he didn’t see this exchange between you and Fred. Solemnly, he follows his fellow Hufflepuffs from the hall.

You both hadn’t even noticed George, Ron, and Harry take their places beside you at the table, eyes wide and faces flushed.

“When the bloody hell did this happen?” Ron nods at the two of you, shoving pork into his mouth.

“I’d like to think if my two best friends got together, they would’ve at least mentioned it to me—how long have you two been sneaking around?” George teases you with a wink.

Both you and Fred let hearty laughs escape your lips, as if to say, Sneaking around? You’re out of your mind, but instead, you both say, “We’re just faking.”

“Come again?” Ron and Harry chorus together.

“Faking—you know, Ronniekins, pretend.” Ron’s ears turn a bright scarlet color. “Just for fun. Y/N’s lovely ex bombarded her the other day after her injury, kept bugging her to grab a bite with him, so she very politely took me by surprise and told him, before consulting me, that we’re dating. Of course I obliged—being the lovely gent I am.”

“It did not happen like that—”

“You’re absolute rubbish at lying, you know.”

You throw your hands up in surrender, your face a nice light shade of rosy pink. “I panicked!”

“Precisely,” Fred and George say together. “And how long are you two planning on keeping this little scheme going for?” George asks.

You and Fred turn to each other. It is now revealed, Fred realizes as he watches as you peer into space, that you have no plan. He leans back in his seat, looking rather satisfied at the fact that you haven’t come up with any details at all. “I—I hadn’t thought of that. I just kind of.. went for it. I was acting on the very daring nerve that comes with being a Gryffindor!”

“Right you were,” says Fred through a mouthful of potatoes, “barely skipped a beat, she did. Reckon she couldn’t wait for it to happen—she nearly pounced on me right in front of him.”

The boys roar with raucous laughter. You roll your eyes and turn your attention to George, Ron, and Harry, who are now wiping away tears from their eyes. “You don’t really believe him, do you? This will not last long. Believe you me. It was purely a spur-of-the-moment adrenaline rush decision.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

You turn back to Fred and ask in a sweetly sarcastic tone, “Yes, Freddie?”

“I’m invoking a rule. No falling in love with one another.” He winks and bites into his chicken.

You scoff at him, while the others chuckle again. “Ah yes, darling—because that’s so very likely.”

— -

When Fred finds you sitting underneath a large oak tree in front of the castle, he laughs softly when he sees you in quite a frazzled looking state: your hair is in disarray from pulling at it, the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven’t slept in days, and he can almost feel the pain radiating from your tired muscles.

He sits down next to you in the grass and teases, “You’re quite a sight for sore eyes.”

“Oh, shove off,” you reply, not even looking up from your books. But after a few seconds of silence, the two of you fall into fits of laughter.

Fred nods at the books you’re so very immersed in. “What’s so important?”

“D’you think,” you begin, flipping the pages rapidly, “if I can find a spell that can produce a change in thought process on another human being, and somehow manage to stealthily pull it off and use it on Madam Pomfrey, she’ll change her mind and let me play in the next match?”

Fred cocks his head to the side, peering admirably at you, and smiles sweetly. “It doesn’t look very likely.”

“Ugh, I thought you’d say that.”

“But hey—there’s always obliviate,”

“Honestly, it’s getting to the point where I’m actually considering it.”

“Sure,” he says teasingly again, “I’d pay quite a lot of galleons to see you use any type of magic on a staff member, let alone something as dangerous as a memory charm.”

You cross your arms defiantly. “Don’t think I’ll do it?”

“No,” he smirks, “I know you won’t do it.”

You narrow your eyes at him and give in. Fred can’t help but laugh. “Okay, well—it would be really dangerous! But c’mon—I’ve gotten involved in a fair share of mischief with you and your brother; need I remind you of the time you landed me in detention my second year? A mere twelve year old, in detention…”

“Reckon that’s when you put this whole fake boyfriend thing into action, did you? When you fell for me all those years ago?”

“Ha-ha, you’re wickedly hilarious, Freddie.. seriously, funniest bloke I’ve ever met..” Your voice trails off when you notice something a few feet away, but Fred’s still thinking about how you called him the funniest person you know, even if it was in a sarcastic tone. But deep down, he knows you’re completely serious. He can feel his heart begin to soar a bit. His meandering mind is interrupted yet again by someone walking along the water’s edge—an unwanted visitor. Quickly, you shift yourself closer to Fred and say in a hushed voice, “Hurry—put your arm around me!”

He can’t help but stifle a laugh at your extremely flustered state. “Anything for my girl.”

You fit in so comfortably in his body that he doesn’t even notice how much time passes by. You spend the afternoon immersed in books, while Fred is resting against the tree, falling in and out of sleep with breaks to fix some malfunctions on some very small inventions of his and George’s. Each and every time he looks up, he notices the very curious looking ex boyfriend of yours watching you both, as if he’s trying his very hardest to prove that the two of you are just pretending. And each and every time Fred turns his attention back toward his inventions, he finds himself pulling you tighter and tighter into his arms.

— -

You and Fred are walking rather reluctantly through the corridors to your next class. If only you both had a free period, you’d be able to catch up on some work. But alas, here you both are, walking very, very slowly to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“How’s the team holding up? I’m dying to get back out there with you.”

“Miss me that much, do you?”

You narrow your eyes and the unmistakable sound of mock laughter from Fred bounces off of the walls. “I miss Quidditch is what I mean. It’s killing me that I can’t join you lot—especially with the match just a week away.”

Fred smiles softly at you, feeling a twinge in his heart, knowing that you won’t be able to play, regardless of your completely healed shoulder. “I know. It’s killing us, too. But come the new year, you’ll—oi, bloody hell, does he just spend his time following us around, or something?”

Fred nods in the direction of the unwanted visitor yet again, and he grabs your hand quickly and continues to walk down the corridor, careful to avoid eye contact. That is, until he corners you both.

It’s not in a violent sort of way—but rather, curious. You’re both bracing yourselves for yet another attempt at getting you to rekindle things, when he takes Fred by surprise. “Why is it, Weasley, that whenever I see you two around, you very quickly grab her hand or sling your arm around her shoulder? What is this—just a ploy?”

“Come on,” you say to him softly, and Fred’s feeling very, very nervous that your facial expression will tell your ex everything he needs to know. “Leave us alone, would you? We’ve got class.”

“Prove it to me, then,” he says now, crossing his arms. “If you two’re really together, then kiss her.”

“What?” you both say aloud, flabbergasted. You look at Fred, who’s doing his very best to bite back a smile, and it’s becoming difficult to not laugh in your ex’s face.

He smirks at the both of you, his cronies surrounding him doing the same thing. Fred squares him up, and it’s easy to tower over him, Fred’s 6’3 frame swallowing him nearly whole. “I don’t think that’s such an odd request—kiss your girlfriend, Weasley, and I’ll leave you be.”

It’s obvious to the both of you, now, that he is basically waiting for you all to admit that yes, you’ve been faking, the entire time it hasn’t been real. You open your mouth to speak and Fred notices the panic in your eyes, the truth bubbling up inside you. So he does the only thing he can think of—he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulls you close to him, and presses his lips to yours.

You try very, very hard to hold back your surprise, because you’re extremely aware of the group of Hufflepuffs now watching you both share a kiss that is supposed to look like it happens all the time. You’re sure you’ve lost your voice now. His lips are soft, softer than they look, and Fred’s finding it difficult to remember why you two haven’t been doing this the entire time. He pulls away very, very slowly, hovering close to you with a cheeky grin on his face, before breaking completely and taking your hand in his again, squeezing tightly. Fred notices the scarlet color of your face now, turns back toward the stunned man in front of him, and replies, “Is that all? My girlfriend and I have class, if you don’t mind—”

You swiftly walk your way through the group and you and Fred nearly fly down the hallway, his face as red as his hair, his smile as bright as the sun, and you bring your hands to your lips and you swear you can feel the electricity surging through them, just as they had when Fred kissed you just a few seconds ago.

“You were going to tell him!” Fred’s laughing now, outside the entrance to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but he can feel his heart thundering in his chest due to the heat of the moment. There’s nothing quite like an adrenaline rush. You reply, “He—he knows we’re lying!”

“Well, now he doesn’t,” Fred replies with a cheeky wink. “C’mon—I made you a deal, didn’t I? Couldn’t let that git get the last word. Now he’s got no bloody idea what’s going on.”

“How can I ever thank you?”

Fred swallows over a lump in his throat, peering deeply into your very bright eyes. He knows what he wants to say, and he’s about too, but something stops him. Something holds him back. Instead, he grins, shakes his head, and slings an arm across your shoulder, making sure to hold onto you just a little bit longer this time.

— -

Fred, George, Ron, and Harry are sitting in the library looking positively ghastly. Ron and Harry are very reluctantly working on a Divination essay that Hermione had finished a week ago, while the twins are racking their brains to finish this petty assignment from Snape.

You wander inside and Fred notices, for the first time in a few days, that your sling is back on your shoulder. Concern floods through his body. “Hey,” he says, immediately pulling you into his arms, “are you okay? Is it bothering you?”

You’re positively beaming—that’s the only way Fred can describe is. Your smile is quite bright, looking happier than you have in months, even with your arm in a sling. “Yeah,” you tell him sweetly, taking a seat next to him, “hurts a little. Probably just slept on it funny, or something.”

“Be careful,” he tells you, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, completely ignoring the assignment in front of him, “let me know if you need to go to the hospital wing, okay?”

You nod and begin to slowly pull spell books from your bag when you notice the others across the table, looking at you both with what can only be described as mischievous grins.

You and Fred look at each other, and then at them. Fred’s hand tightens around your waist. “What?” you ask together.

“You know he isn’t here, right?” Harry asks you both. George and Ron are focusing very hard on their parchments, and are not doing a very good job at stifling their laughter.

It’s almost immediate that Fred unwraps his arm from your waist, and your face is burning with color, and Fred’s insides are beginning to tighten due to embarrassment. But before he can speak and defend his actions, you speak up, “Oh, erm—could’ve sworn I saw him—must’ve been my eyes playing tricks on me, then. Anyway..”

The rest of the afternoon is spent in utter silence, recovering from that tiny slip up and moment of embarrassment. And one by one they leave—first Harry, then Ron, and then George—who, by the looks of it, is nowhere near done with his assignment—but he claims he has somewhere he needs to be, and vanishes through the doors of the library before either you or Fred can do anything.

About an hour later, you ask Fred, “Could Snape be any more vile? Why did he assign this stupid essay again?”

Fred laughs softly, “because some Ravenclaw started insulting his teaching methods in the middle of the lesson—remember?”

“Oh yeah,” you say, the memory coming back to you now. Brightly, you say, “Hey—want to get back at that Ravenclaw and plan some elaborate type of prank to make this whole assignment just a little bit more bearable?”

Fred turns toward you with a surprised expression on his face. He smirks and shakes his head in admiration, “I think I’m becoming a bad influence on you.”

You bat your eyelashes at him and say, “Maybe. Would that be such an awful thing?”

And then he pulls you nearly all the way into his lap, begins tickling you and poking you in the ribs, and you begin to flail in his arms and laugh hysterically, when Madam Pince angrily shushes you from the other end of the library. You flip your hair out of your eyes and regain your composure, and Fred is suddenly very aware that you’re still seated in his lap, your face only inches from his, the bright color of your eyes sparkling in the sun flooding in from the windows. Right. You’re not actually technically together. He swallows thickly and watches as you bite down on your lip. You’re both about to say something, hearts thundering loudly in your chest, when suddenly you break the silence and slide yourself off of him, back into your seat and say, “We’d better head to the feast, Freddie. Don’t want to be late.”

— -

“Anyone fancy a game of exploding snap before bed?”

Ron’s sitting in the middle of the huddle, finishing the last of his dessert from the feast, while everyone around him is slumped in their seats looking positively exhausted.

George says sleepily, “Can’t mate—we’ve got a late night practice tonight.”

“D’you think Angelina will give me a beating if I just sleep through it?” Fred asks nobody in particular, his eyes closed.

“Yes,” you, Harry, George, Ginny and Hermione say together.

“Oh fine, you lot are out,” Ron waves his hand in the direction of the Quidditch players and then glances excitedly at you, Ginny, and Hermione. “Ladies? Anyone? Feeling kind of lucky this evening.”

Ginny snorts at this. “You? Lucky? Luck would be me not absolutely obliterating you in a game—not you winning. That’d be a miracle.” Her older brothers chuckle quite animatedly at this comment; it’s certainly woken them up a bit.

You grin at Ginny and then say to her very angry and embarrassed looking brother, “What she means to say, Ron, is that we’re all kind of exhausted due to lack of sleep, because someone—” you shoot a glance toward another Gryffindor girl on the other end of the Great Hall, “—put an amplifying charm on some Muggle contraption of hers last night, music kept us up till nearly dawn.”

Ron turns back toward his brothers now, looking confused. “No way you could’ve heard that from the girls dormitory, or Harry and I would’ve been up all night, too! So why are you two so bloody exhausted?”

“Usual mischief,” Fred and George chorus together, winking at the youngest male Weasley.

Ginny picks up her bag and says to the group, “I’m heading to bed. You two coming?” she glances at you and Hermione.

You glance back and forth between Ginny and Fred and bite your lip. You’re absolutely knackered, but you wonder whether you should go to practice, just to be there, just to watch, just to show you’re still devoted. Fred picks up on this and shakes his head. “You’re tired—go to bed. Promise you’re not missing much. Reckon we’ll all be rubbish due to exhaustion, anyway.”

“Okay,” you finally reply, albeit begrudgingly. Fred places a quick kiss to your cheek, the group stifles laughter, and you, Hermione, and an extremely baffled Ginny make your way upstairs to the common room, leaving the boys to their jokes in the very crowded Great Hall.

When you enter through the portrait hole, Hermione wishes you both a good evening before heading up the stairs. This leaves you and Ginny alone in a completely desolate common room. You remove your shoes and stand across from the fire, letting the warmth of the flames radiate through your body, when Ginny clears her throat.

“Care to tell me what’s going on between you and my older brother?” she says cheekily, grinning at you. She so very much resembles all of her siblings.

You laugh softly, running a hand through your hair and stretching your arms behind your head. “I thought Ron would’ve told you.. It’s nothing, Ginny. Promise. We’re just pretending. My ex has been strangely remorseful about the breakup lately, trying to get me to talk to him and what not—Fred’s just helping me out a bit.”

“By pretending to date you?”

“Yeah..” you say a bit guiltily now. “Yeah, it sort of happened in a moment of panic. Don’t worry, though. None of it’s real. Just till it gets the other one out of my way—then we’ll go back to normal.” You turn back to face the fire and it suddenly feels much, much hotter than before.

“But this is the normal you actually want, isn’t it?”

This takes you by surprise. You turn back slowly, now facing Ginny, and she’s wearing a genuine grin. “I—I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve watched Fred and George for years,” Ginny tells you, “admiring their recklessness and rebellion—but in turn, this also means I see who they get on with.”

“Meaning?”

She smiles softly, looking a little sulky actually, which is so very unlike Ginny. And she confides in you, and she’s acting very vulnerable which makes your heart soar, “I’d give anything for Harry to look at me the way you look at Fred.”

You swallow over a lump in your throat, and Ginny can easily sense your nervousness. She reaches out and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. In a very hoarse, soft voice, as if your vocal chords have been strained, you plead, “Please, please don’t tell him.”

She doesn’t respond to this exactly, but you know she’ll keep her lips sealed. She asks, “How long?”

“I—I dunno,” you tell her truthfully. You bite your lip to keep your heart jumping out of your throat, “over time, I suppose.” You continue to tell her of how everything unfolded, how Fred had jokingly told you to not develop feelings for him, how he’d kissed you that one day in the corridor.

There’s a few moments of silence between you both, but there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. In fact, it’s the most comfortable you’ve ever been with one another—secretly longing for the boys who don’t seem to look at you both the way you so deeply yearn. Finally, Ginny breaks the tension and says, “Your secret is safe with me. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Is this her way of telling you that Fred doesn’t feel the same way as you? That these feelings you have for him are a hundred percent one sided and are not at all reciprocated? It’s as if she’s reading your thoughts, because she tells you, “I’ve no idea how he feels—he doesn’t tell me anything at all, real git that he is,” you both laugh at this exchange, and Ginny echoes herself, “Just be careful.”

“I will,” you reply, now realizing that she’s has given you quite a lot to think about, “Thanks, Gin.”

— -

Fred’s feeling positively blue, if you will. He’s standing smack in the middle of the corridor in his Quidditch robes after a truly rubbish weekend practice, staring at the spot you were just standing. It’s like you’re still there, he can still smell your perfume, but he reckons you’ve probably already made it back to the common room by now.

Just then, he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in surprise, and turns around only to be face to face with George and Ginny, who laugh at his skittishness.

“You alright, mate? Coming to the Great Hall?”

“Yeah.” Fred’s voice sounds vastly different in his own ears; it’s hoarse and broken, and he doesn’t understand why. He coughs a bit, and then echoes himself, “Yeah,” except he doesn’t believe it, and neither do his siblings.

George stops bouncing his broomstick between his hands at once. He looks once at Ginny and then back at Fred as the corridor begins to fill with students, “What’s going on?”

“Sh-she ended it,” he replies, and the words feel foreign in his mouth.

“Who, Y/N? The.. fake thing?” George asks, lowering his voice. “Maybe the git is finally leaving her be.”

“No, that’s not it. She wouldn’t tell me. She was.. weirdly quiet. She told me that she was worried things are going to get messy and she’s afraid rules are being broken on her end.. has she said anything to either of you? What is she even talking about?”

George responds quickly with a, “No, nothing,” whereas Ginny hesitates a bit, and then responds, “No, Freddie. She hasn’t.” But Fred can sense that his little sister isn’t giving him all of the info. Had she talked to you? Does she know what’s going on? Then George nudges his brother and asks a bit cheekily, “Does this make you upset?”

“No, no, of course not!” Fred says a bit aggressively, but both of his siblings just cock their heads to the side, as if to say, Really, Freddie, we can see right through you. “I—I mean—I just.. thought we were having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah,” George begins, while Ginny remains quiet by his side, “okay, you were having fun, but.. what I’m asking you, Fred, is—do you maybe want to be with her for real? And that’s why you’re upset?”

When Fred doesn’t answer, Ginny finds her voice. “We know, Fred.”

“Know what?”

George and Ginny say together, “That you fancy her.”

Fred runs a hand through his hair. He’s feeling aggravated now—he doesn’t like when his mind and thoughts get picked apart by people closest to him, especially when he’s trying on his own to piece together exactly how he feels. But he comes to realize, as his heart begins to beat faster when he thinks of you, that his siblings are right. He’s felt this way for a very, very long time.

Without showing just how much he really feels for you, Fred tells them, “Yeah, erm, okay, I—maybe I have some.. feelings,” he says through gritted teeth and George can’t help but stifle a laugh at his twin’s nervousness. Fred punches him in the arm. “But she kept saying that she’s breaking rules—but what rules? I haven’t the foggiest what she’s on about! I don’t even know if she feels the same way!”

“Fred,” Ginny says quietly, “you jokingly made one rule with her when you two began this whole ridiculous stunt.” When Fred just looks at his sister quizzically, wondering what the bloody hell she’s on about, she opts to continue, “you told her you’re not allowed to fall for one another.”

Realization hits Fred like a ton of bricks, George throws his hands up in confusion, and Ginny pushes on Fred’s chest and grins cheekily at her older brother, leaving poor George baffled beyond belief at this secret language his other two siblings seem to have. Ginny nods in the direction of the common room, “Just go get her already, would you?”

And Fred’s flying through the corridors and up the stairs, he’s pushing past students and professors alike, he’s running hands through his messy, windswept hair and he’s climbing through the portrait hole, only to find you sitting on the ledge near the window looking out at the stars, just as you had all those long months ago when he found you crying.

“Hey, Freddie,” you say when you turn to face him. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer—he pushes past the desks and chairs blocking him from you and does the one and only thing he wants to do, the only thing he’s ever wanted to do for as long as he can remember now—he scoops you up into his arms, presses his forehead to yours, and kisses you. For real, this time.

Your surprise is overridden by the slight, exasperated moan that escapes your lips before you wrap your hands around the back of his neck. His fingers are dancing across your hip bones and then make their way up your back and into your hair. He kisses you once, twice, three more times before fully breaking, and hovers close to you again before pulling away completely to see the sparkle in your eyes, the bright smile plastered across your face.

As you push down any nervousness rising to the surface with a quick swallow, you say, “So.. where’ve you been?”

Fred laughs haughtily now, remembering that time all those few months ago when you’d said the exact same thing in a completely different context. He’s finding it beyond difficult to not kiss you into oblivion right now, especially as you bite on your bottom lip to try and suppress a very large grin.

“Sorry, love, I got tied up with my thoughts—but I can stay here with you now.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace before his lips find yours again. You can both hear voices outside the portrait whole. It’s obvious to you now that you have mere seconds before your alone time will be so very rudely interrupted by fellow Gryffindors.

“I broke the rules,” you tell him with slight tears in your eyes, playing with the baby fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Me too,” he admits breathlessly, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I broke them a long time ago.” His heart begins to thunder inside of his chest at the feeling of your lips forming a smile against his, and he’s almost positive you can hear it—but he doesn’t care. He wants you to know you get his heart racing—more than pranking, more than firewhisky, more than Quidditch—more than anything or anyone in the entire world. He continues after another small kiss, “I reckon some rules are meant to be broken, though, aren’t they?”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, darlings. thank you for reading and requesting, much love x

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #hp imagine #fake dating tropes #ron weasley #ginny weasley #harry potter #hermione granger

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misterewrites · 3 years

Text

Intro Casey 101 (Mirror’s Edge)

Hello everyone, E hoping you are all doing good! Here it is! The next chapter of the side project that's now my second major one. Because I have a problem and cannot be stopped! Haha stay safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, keep yourself, your loved ones and each other safe, get the vaccine if you can and remember to take care of yourselves.

Feel free to share this with your friends, leave me comments, feedback, reblogs. every bit makes me happy and helps! Have a great week and stay safe! E is out!

If you want an easier time to read it or to read it from the beginning you can follow the link below. Tumblr hates links and will probably shadow block my tags but you know what? Tumblr hates me in general so oh well

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/78163523

Summary: Casey is the head of the local Neighborhood Watch (and by head, he means only employee) Whenever not helping his best friend take down corrupted, evil jerkbutts, he spends his time running, maintaining and helping the magical/supernatural residents of Willow's Brook. Life is never static but Casey sometimes wishes it was a little less hectic. Just because he can handle it doesn't mean he wants to.

-----

Willow Rook was a peaceful neighborhood suburb located on the outskirts of Newton Haven, just within the city’s boundaries. Rows of mismatched houses and apartments spread out across the maddening maze that was suburbia. Fernspeaker Drift park was nestled in the heart of the neighborhood, its magical and mundane flora bringing a peaceful harmonic nature to the urban sprawl of man. The towering skyscrapers of downtown could be seen far into the distance, a reminder to the residents the city was never too far away.

The sounds of children screaming and shouting is what awoke Casey. He let out an unhappy groan as he rose from the hard wooden desk he accidentally fell asleep on. He rubbed his aching jaw, trying to loosen it from the rough night he had.

“Fuck” He yawned groggily “I really need to have a pillow here or something.”

He ran his hand through his normally wavy dark brown hair as his sea green eyes glanced about his “office”.

Office was much too generous a word for what he worked out of: It was tiny bungalow with barely enough room for a desk and chair, a case file drawer and the tv that sat ontop of it. Casey mentally prepared himself as he pulled open the curtains and allowed natural light to hit his face.

“Ugggggggh” Casey shielded his eyes from the harsh gleam of the morning “Why must the sun punish me?”

Casey stretched the crick in his neck while keeping an eye on the outside world: The neighborhood was particularly lively today with people out and about. The elderly elf Mr. Thistlebush was complaining about something or another to his dwarfish neighbor Mrs. Boulderfist who politely nodded and humored the old elf. Evan Starsunder, a muscular orc with dark green skin, tipped his mail cap tiredly to everyone he passed as he made his way into his cozy abode for a well earned rest. The newly married halfing (similiar but legally distinct from hobbits) couple Mr. and Mrs. Tealeaf took a stroll across the grassy field where Casey’s office stood, hand in hand and very much the picturesque ideal of young love.

Casey opened the window to let everyone know he was open for business.

“Good morning Mister Remington!” Mr. Tealeaf waved with a smile.

“How are you doing this morning?” Mrs. Tealeaf asked, half curious and half cheerfully.

“Great!” Casey lied, trying to stifle a yawn “Just great. Keeping on eye on the neighborhood, same as usual.”

“Keep up the good work!”

“We appreciate everything you do for all of us!”

“You’re welcome!” he gave a halfhearted wave after the retreating couple.

He sighed, mindlessly fiddling with the engagement ring on his finger.

“I should take it off” Casey spoke to no one in particular “She probably isn’t wearing hers anymore. I shouldn’t give people the wrong idea. I should just take it off and that’ll be it. That’ll be it. Yep. One slip and….yeah.”

His voice trailed off as he was unable to finish the thought.

“CASE!” A voice shouted.

Casey leaned out and squinted, trying to see through the glare of the sunlight to find the person who demanded his attention.

“CASE!” The voice called out again, the blurry far off figure slowly shifting into a more recognizable shape.

Casey rolled his eyes “What is it Kay? I’m working!”

Kasey Remington or, as most people called her, Kay was Casey’s twin sister. Nearly identical face with the same wavy dark brown hair and sea green eyes except Kay had gotten their mother’s button nose out of the deal. Growing up, the twins often questioned why their parents had named them Casey with a C and Kasey with the K but the only response they ever gave was it was funny.

Well not to the twins but they were used to it by now.

Kasey, in her mommy cardigan and white blouse, flagged down her brother to come outside.

“Yeah I’m good up here.” Casey smiled from his slightly elevated position.

“You’re tall for like 5 minutes and you’re already being unbearable about it.” Kasey huffed, shooting her twin a stink eye.

Casey chuckled “Mad with power. Classic story troupes.”

“Cliche you mean.” Kasey laughed “Sorry to bother you but….did you sleep in your office again?”

Casey rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he realized he was still wearing his purple tank top and black basketball shorts from the other day.

“Umm well you see….”

“Is your office still a mess?”

Casey glanced at the half crumpled burger wrappers and scattered papers that littered every inch of desk.

“Pfft, no.”

“That’s a yes” Kasey replied with a knowing smirk “Case….”

Casey fiercely pointed at his twin “Don’t.”

“Case, you can’t keep…”

“Yes I can. Watch me.”

Kasey rolled her eyes “I have better things to do.”

Casey scrunched up his face with false hurt “Better than hanging out with your brother? Alright I see how it is. See if I get you anything for Christmas.”

“No! Not my possible Christmas presents!” Kasey fell to her knees dramatically “You monster! How could you do to this to me?”

“Like this.” Casey spoke with a grin, closing the window without another word.

And made his way out of the building a moment later. He offered a hand to his sister and the twins burst out with laughter as Casey helped Kasey to her feet.

“So what’s up Kay?” Casey asked with genuine interest “Where’s Chester?”

Kasey scratched her chin thoughtfully “He’s...got...a….little league game today.”

“Wooooow took you a full five seconds to remember what your kid’s up today.” Casey snickered “Finally stop signing him up for everything?”

“Ha flipping ha.” Kasey shook her head mockingly “It’s not my fault he wants to do any and everything. Besides it’s not the worst thing in the world to enable my son’s interests. I just wish he slowed down a bit.”

“True. Did you thank him for the house he made for me?”

“Yes and he said you’re welcome. Still got it?”

Casey scoffed as he pulled out his necklace: The simple shape of home clasped carefully onto his chain.

“As a cleric of the hearth nothing is more important than a family’s love.”

“Except” Kasey murmured softly “Maybe your fiancée?”

“Nope!” Casey threw his hands in the air and turned away from his sister “Not having this conversation. Byeeeee.”

“Case! Casey you’re acting like a child!”

“Would a child do this? Hey Seth!”

A gawky human teenager with dark black clothing and every skull accessory imaginable flinched uncomfortably at the sudden attention.

Casey nodded his head in confirmation “Yeah you! Curfew’s 2:30 A.M. The Hallow spell won’t work during the witching hour so I want you back here before 3. Got it?”

Seth gave a low mumble and wandered off as quickly as his legs could take him.

“Casey.” Kasey laced her voice with a firmness only a mother could muster.

“Whaaaaaat?” Casey whirled around irritated “Look I made my choice and she made hers and that’s it.”

Kasey raised an eyebrow “You two have been in love with each other since we were kids.”

“Don’t you…!”

“Case, why don’t you ask her again?”

Casey said nothing, opting to gesture to his office to answer his question. Written in bright white letters across the walls of the building were the words “Neighborhood Watch.”

Kasey rubbed her arm guiltily “Case…”

“You gonna take over?” Casey questioned, his voice soft but controlled “You gonna take over for mom? Cuz she retired and unless there’s someone running the watch, all of this...”

He motions to the families walking, playing, living their lives together in harmony. A magical community at peace.

“All this goes away. We’re going to have to move everyone into other magical neighborhoods and under their Neighborhood Watches. And that’s not fair to them.”

Kasey let out a sad sigh “It’s not fair to you.”

“I’m fine” Casey lied “I’m okay I promise. It’s for the best.”

Kasey shook her head “You can lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me. See you for dinner?”

Casey hugged his twin tightly, pouring as much love as he could into the gesture.

“Of course. I’ll bring fries.”

Kasey made a face, playfully pushing him away “Would you bring something else, please?”

“Fine, mashed potatoes.”

“Ugh. Bye Case.”

“Bye Kay!”

Kasey eyed the engagement ring for a moment before taking her leave.

Casey ran his hands through his hair, wondering how much worse today could get.

He turned to make his way back to his office when he spotted a familiar face nearby.

His heart began to thunder loudly in his ears, the phantom sensation of lips pressed against his own ran chills down his spine while his cheeks flushed a bright red. His legs felt weak and butterflies filled his stomach as he took in the sight of Jaime casually walking down the street.

Jaime looked as beautiful as ever: Her long dark red hair was tied into a single braid that hung over her shoulder and shimmered in the soft glow of the morning. Her light brown eyes gleamed with a thoughtfully gaze as she looked at her phone. She was wearing his dark purple hoodie with dark blue jeans and sneakers. Her glasses were cutely askew and Casey felt the overwhelming urge to run over and fix them for her.

The engagement ring on his finger felt impossibly heavy yet light all at once.

He should talk to her. That was okay, right? To talk to someone he’s in love with and desperately wanted to be with. Did she want to talk to him? They left on decent terms. Well maybe. Hopefully. God what if she was mad at him? Or worse, hated him? She could never hate him that was silly. But perhaps she wasn’t ready to speak to him.

He knew he wasn’t ready.

Casey turned to Jaime’s direction then pulled away. He pivoted on his feet to face her again before glancing downwards towards the grass. His hands fidgeted uneasily as a shout threatened to spill out of his mouth.

Casey returned quickly to his office and shut close the window. Resisting the urge to stare at Jaime, he opted instead to reach for a crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed it out and began mindlessly scrawling upon its surface, drawing nothing in particular.

It was comical how automatic Casey’s responses became while he worked in this building: Upon hearing the knock at his door, he rose to his feet and opened it without a second thought.

Casey’s heart leapt to his throat at the sight of Jaime standing at the base of the steps from the bungalow. She smiled shyly, pushing up her glasses further up on the bridge of nose before giving a friendly wave. Her other hand was tucked deeply in the hoodie’s pocket.

“Hey sweetie” Jaime paused, pursing her lips for a moment “Case. How are you Case? Doing good Case? Can I stop now?”

Casey let out a genuine laugh “Hey swe….Jaime. You can stop. I’m good. I’m good. Good.”

He caught sight of his engagement ring gleaming in the sunlight. He quickly shoved it inside his pocket.

“That’s good. That’s good.” Jaime nodded “I’m glad to hear that.”

Casey caught her wandering glance across the office and quickly shifted his weight to block the view.

“So how’s the new job?” He crossed his arms in an clumsy fashion “Everything okay at the Grimoire?”

Jaime dug at the grass with her shoe “It’s good. Chaotic as usual but hey what do you expect for a magical library, right?”

The two chuckled together and locked eyes for a moment. As one they broke off their gaze, their cheeks slowly turning a pinkish hue.

Casey recovered first “How’s your brother? We talk but ever since last month he hasn’t recruited me to topple any corrupt bosses lately. I’m getting bored.”

“You sure you bored?” Jaime rolled her eyes “There’s no way the Neighborhood Watch is getting that soft.” “Haha I wish.”

An awkward silence fell over the couple as the realization of what subject they landed on washed over them.

“Finn’s good. Busy but good.” Jaime spoke with a fragile softness in her voice “You know my bro, always trying to save the world.”

“Right...”

Casey couldn’t help but noticed Jaime’s body language: She tucked both of her hands into the pockets, her frame shrunk like she was mentally kicking herself as she gawkily fidgeted back and forth.

“Hey.”

Jaime glanced upwards towards Casey, her light brown eyes shining brightly in the sun’s glow.

Casey could feel his heart ache with love and longing as he spoke simply “Don’t worry about it beautiful.”

Jaime said nothing. Instead, she closed the distance between them, gently cupping his cheek in her hand.

“Take care of yourself sweetie. Please. For me?”

Casey could feel his ache worsen but he just nodded, murmuring softly “For you.”

Jaime’s smile was sad but lovely. She pulled away slowly, allowing her fingers to linger for a moment.

“Bye for now Casey.”

“Bye Jaime.”

She left without another word and Casey felt exhaustion rush into every fiber of his body. He closed the door reluctantly and took a seat. He stared unhappily at the drawing of Jaime he hadn’t realized he’d be sketching.

“Fucking hell.”

He slumped deeper into his chair, feeling much too drained to face the rest of the day.

-----

“Shit, shit, shit” Seth muttered to himself as he raced through the night. The normally inviting, homely suburb was cold and distant: The shadows moved in eerie unnatural ways and once or twice Seth could soft pattering of paws follow closely behind. The modest homes and apartments were silent, basked in the darkness as they towered over him in silence.

“Just a cat” He mumbled to himself, glancing at his phone and wincing at the 3:30 AM it showed in a white font.

Seth entered Willow Rook proper and paled at the lack of comfort he normally felt in the air. Casey had warned him the Hallow spell, a powerful ward of holy magic that protected the neighborhood and hid it away from the world, would not work between 3 and 4 AM. Seth assumed he was merely attempting to scare him to return early. It never occurred to him that Casey was telling the truth.

Seth fumed silently “It’s fine. I’m late, it’s fine nothing followed me here and it’s fine.”

A chill ran down his spine as something rustled nearby. He whirled around in time to see something lunge straight for his chest.

He was ashamed how quickly he flinched, closing his eyes shut while raise his hands in a poor attempt to defend himself. He made quick prayer to whatever deity who happened to be on duty at the moment.

Something thudded against his chest. It didn’t stay long, instead quickly making its way up his shirt and tucked itself comfortably on his shoulder. It wasn’t too heavy but it was big whatever it was. Seth was surprised how warm and fluffy it was and swore it was purring in his ear.

He cracked open his eyes and found himself staring at an orange tabby cat: it was a fat cat with stripes of white and orange running down its body. Its dark green eyes stared curiously at him. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought it was asking him a question.

“Hey buddy” Seth breathed a sigh of relief, scratching the cat’s chin “What are you doing out here? Scaring the shit out of me?”

The cat pawed at his face rather roughly and with enough force to actually make him turn his head.

Seth felt the blood drain as he saw something approach in the shifting shadows: A monstrous thing, thin and skeletal. Its skin was a dark shade, almost as black as the darkness it blended in with. It crawled forward slowly on all fours, thick talons digging up and cutting through the pavement with ease. A bloody wrap covered its eyes and two thick, elongated fangs protruded from its lower jaw. The rest of its face was smooth and featureless.

The words died in Seth’s throat. The best he could do was a pathetic croaking noise he was grateful no one could hear in the dead night.

The creature tilted its head as if listening for any sign of its prey.

Seth couldn’t move, the fear gripping him tightly in its thrall. His breathing hitched and he could feel his body shake beyond his control as the creature inched closer and closer.

The cat leapt off his shoulder, silently landing onto the grass and bolting into the night.

Seth’s stomach churned and twisted anxiously as the creature stared in his direction, a growling rumble escaping its mouth. It let loose a maddening shriek, one that shook Seth’s very bones. It stood on its hind legs and grew to an inhuman height. Its mouth lowered, stretching impossibly wide as it leapt forward.

Seth felt cold and empty as the sight of the monster filled his sight. The fight ebbed out of him and left only an overwhelming sense of dread and finality.

This is how it ended.

It was an odd sensation to feel at the end: the warmth and glow of the sun at his back. Perhaps some higher being was taking mercy on him in his last moments on this plane of existence.

Wait, no the warmth was getting brighter and hotter. An unbearably stuffy and blazing with an intensity of a summer day that grew each passing moment.

Seth groaned, wincing in pain as a sudden flash of light zoomed past with incredible speed. It burned brightly, dispelling the silhouetted shadows with a burning flame despite it being no bigger than a baseball.

The creature reared back and thrashed about, too caught off guard by the sudden glow to realize it was coming straight for it. The orb collided with the creature’s chest and sunk deeply into its chest. The creature howled and buckled in pain, bending and twisting at unnatural angles.

The light faded and the orb with it but Seth could see the fist sized hole it had burned through the chest of the creature.

The creature weakly swayed, seemingly weakened by whatever hit it.

“Not in my neighborhood you punkass bitch.”

Seth weakly turned to find Casey standing there, the fat orange tabby at his feet. The head of the Neighborhood Watch finally changed his clothes: He wore a purple jacket with a black shirt that read “Neighborhood Watch” in faded white lettering. His gray sweats were wrinkled and his feet were adorned with two different sneakers. Outstretched in his hand like he had taken a swing at something was a glowing metal baseball bat that pulsed with radiant power.

“Casey, I…” Seth mumbled out but Casey motioned with his head.

“Go home kid. This ain’t the minor leagues.”

Seth was ashamed to say he ran, frantically and as fast as his sore legs could take him. Whatever just attacked him was out of his weight class.

Luckily Casey was in a league of his own.

The creature clicked its tongue unhappily as it moved uneasily on its hind legs. It bent and twisted its neck in a way that would’ve broken it if the creature had been human.

Casey rolled his eyes as he gripped the bat tightly in his hand “Drama queen much, aren’t you?

The creature said nothing. Instead it threw itself forward full force towards the cleric.

“Here we go.” Casey murmured tiredly as he drew his bat back.

The creature took a swipe at him but Casey already moved out of the way, dodging to the side and allowing the creature sail past him. It twisted its head around only to get a face full of metal: Casey’s swing caught the creature in the cheek and sent it reeling backwards.

The creature shrieked in pain as smoke curled off its face, the cheek swollen and charred an ashy black. It didn’t hesitate to attack once more: It stood up and tried to crush Casey under its full weight.

Casey just shoved the bat directly into the hole he made earlier.

The creature hissed and retreated away from the holy infused weapon. More smoke bellowed from the now enlarged hole.

Casey raised his bat threateningly “Go back to wherever the hell you came from or I will beat you out of existence you flipping abomination.”

If the creature understood the threat, it made no indication. Instead it doubled down on its poor choices.

It sat back on the balls of its feet, tensing its legs in preparation for a mighty leap.

Between helping the inhabitants of the neighborhood with their requests, talking to Jaime and frankly being awoken to a fucking demon attack at 3 am, Casey was just done with all yesterday and evidently today.

Casey’s hand glowed with a dazzling radiant light as he spokes the words of faith. Magic formed and condensed into a single ball of pure sun in his palm.

The creature sprinted forward, tearing up the grass underneath its feet while it desperately made one final dash towards the cleric.

Casey lobbed the ball high in the air and fell into a batter’s stance.

The orb hung in the air for a moment like a blazing sun then fell back to earth.

The creature leapt, talons aimed for Casey’s neck.

Casey let out a mighty swing. There was a loud crack as the bat made contact with the orb. The ball of light sped off and shoved itself down the creature’s throat. The bat follow through connected with the head of the creature and knocked it cleaned off.

The ball gleamed bright in the beast’s stomach before exploding outward like a supernova. The creature flaked away into blacken ash, head and all.

The gleam of light vanished and Casey found himself under the cover of night once more.

He wiped at his eyes tiredly as his phone beeped. He glanced at it to see it was now 4 in the morning.

There was a soft hum as the Hallow reactivated: the air shimmered with an unseen power and grew warm with comfort.

The ashes vanished without warning, the unholy remains cleansed by the sanctity of the neighborhood.

The cat drew closer to Casey, its eyes peering at him thoughtfully.

“Hey Julius” Casey greeted the cat politely “Long night?”

Orange Julius meowed in response.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on him. I knew he’d stay out late but hopefully he understands why we have a rather generous curfew.”

Orange Julius nodded.

“That’s been like what? The third demonic hell beast/ abomination this month. That’s a lot for a month.”

Orange Julius meowed in agreement.

Casey pursed his lips thoughtfully “Hey, did you see Finn?”

The cat tilted his head quizzically.

“I mean all this time you. He. Well you aren’t around whenever he comes by” Casey scratched his neck sheepish “You are his dad’s cat. You sure Fernspeaker wouldn’t want you to be with him?”

The cat paused for a moment before shaking his head.

“It’s not because Jaime’s folks adopted him after…..well that happened, is it?”

The cat pawed the grass below him.

“Right.” Casey nodded in understanding “Neighborhood’s your responsibility. I get that.”

Orange Julius meowed then vanished into the darkness.

Casey glanced at the statue of Fernspeaker that stood tall in the center of park. It had been erected the same time the park was named after him, both shortly after his and his wife’s death 22 years ago.

Fernspeaker Drift, Finnrick’s biological father, was once a powerful druid, deeply in tune with nature and a firm believer in helping others. This neighborhood was his passion project. The Neighborhood Watch was formed after his passing.

The Neighborhood Watch was created because of his passing. Nobody wanted a repeat of what happened all those years ago.

Finnrick told him it was okay for Casey to not to take the job but it felt like such a disrespect to let this whole place dissolve and scatter its residents.

Casey sighed and wandered back to his office. Office hours were closed but the Neighborhood Watch’s job was never done.

#original work #my story #original story #mirror's edge

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