#slowly i am getting more comfortable wearing skirts and dresses again!!!! it only took years of being out as a femme lesbian LMAO | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wastelandcth · 3 years

Text

i’ll always come back to you - cth

summary: Calum wore a skirt. A stage reveal happens.

author’s notes: I have no excuse but I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

warnings: Cal in a skirt (please it’s too good), car sex, PIV, calum blanks out a little, she’s back and better than ever!

masterlist || request || more doves

“What do you think I should wear?” Calum asked softly, his hands running through the different items in his closet once more, “It’s a pretty big show, I can’t just show up in something shitty. All I’ve worn for the past two years is either baggy jeans and a t-shirt or shorts and no shirt.”

It was true, ever since the world had shut down and the band’s tour had been put on hold more times than Calum could count, his passion for fashion and finding new clothes to wear had been put on hold as well. Comfort and trying to stay sane in the middle of a worldwide pandemic had left him reaching for any signs of comfort to hold on to and keep him sane. But with the band’s first show slowly approaching and Calum’s nerves returning in the form of playing a fake bass while he tried to calm his racing mind, he knew he’d have to find an outfit sooner or later, and it’d have to be one to make him feel good about himself on stage once more.

“I mean, I don’t think anyone would personally complain about you showing up shirtless to a show,” Dovey teased, her eyes tracing the muscles in Calum’s back as she sat on the edge of the bed, “I certainly wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, but you’re a pervert so you have no choice,” Calum chuckled and threw another shirt towards his loving wife.

The days had gone by and Calum had been stuck at rehearsals, trying his best to find the groove the band had long for ever since the start of the shutdown, but eventually, Calum found himself at home the morning of the show watching from the green room as the concert went on around the world. His bag, which he’d packed and unpacked multiple times that morning, laid on one of the couches. He knew he’d made the right choice, the look on Dovey’s face when he’d packed away the black fabric before she could get a peek of it enough of a reaction to make him smirk before he had rushed out the door at the sound of Ashton’s horn.

“So, did you decide on an outfit?” Michael asked as he sat down next to him during a break in their soundcheck, watching as Calum’s leg swung along to whatever beat Ashton was trying to work out with Luke, “Dovey has been texting me all day asking if I’ve gotten a peek at it.”

“Tell her to fuck off,” Calum chuckled, “I told her she had to wait like everyone else did to see it.”

“Alright,” Michael huffed, nudging him playfully, “But we’re going to be the first to see it then.”

“Yeah, yeah, and she’ll manage to bully you into telling her somehow.”

Calum looked in the mirror, inhaling a shaky breath as he fixed the collar of his suit jacket once more as he heard his bandmates chuckling outside of the bathroom door. With one final look at his outfit he opened the door and stepped out, goosebumps covering his skin as the cold air of the dressing room brushed against his legs.

“Woah! Calum!” Ashton grinned, his eyes wide and his head nodding, “No man, that looks sick! I love it!”

“Oh man, your dad is going to freak once he sees you on stage!” Luke nodded, “You look so good!”

“Guys, Dovey is literally going to kill us all,” Michael whined and clapped Calum on the shoulder, “You look fucking awesome, dude.”

Calum’s cheeks flushed, turning hot as he chuckled and shook his head, letting the curls he’d been growing out swish against his forehead while he tried his best not to push away his very excited and very supportive bandmates. It wasn’t until the room, which consisted of the four of them and their photographer started chanting for him to do a spin that he’d finally told them to fuck off. But with a spin, and a small bout of giggles that left him when the material of his skirt brushed against the back of his knees, Calum had never felt more prepared to play a show in his life, especially when he knew that Dovey would be in the crowd singing her heart out along with them all.

Dovey’s eyes watched the crowd around her grow restless as time ticked slowly, minutes dragging on until the show would start. Her adrenaline was high as she heard an announcer overhead shout that the show would start in one minute, the pit in her stomach thrumming with excitement and the thought of seeing her husband and his best friends on stage again after so long. She knew how much Calum missed being on stage with them, how much he missed performing to a crowd of people singing the lyrics back to them, and so she knew that tonight’s performance would be nothing but perfect. The hum of a guitar backstage and the sound of cheers around her had Dovey on her feet before she even knew it, her wide eyes searching the stage for the man she’d married.

“Oh my god, he did not,” she gasped, her cheers and clapping drowned out in the rest of the crowd as she saw Calum walking out on stage, “That bastard!”

On stage, under the shining lights and for everyone to see, Calum Hood stood grinning as his fingers moved easily over the strings of his bass. The silver chains, which hung across Calum’s waist, shone like his eyes as the set started. Dovey’s eyes tried their hardest to focus, her vision blurred by the tears that sprung out as she watched the love of her life sing his heart out on stage after too many months of being away from the one place he was able to lose himself in. The skirt, which Dovey was already drooling over, swayed along with every movement Calum made as she found herself swaying along with it, stuck in a never-ending dance she wasn’t sure she’d ever want to end. But when Ghost of You played out and Dovey’s eyes found Calum’s it was like the large crowds that had given her anxiety ever since Calum had mentioned the show and the loud music had all disappeared.

There was no one but her and Calum standing there, swaying to the song that had meant more to them than anyone could have ever imagined.

She knew their kids were watching from home, giggling and dancing along in the safety of their living room while the sitter recorded them for Dovey and Calum to cry along to later that night. But right now, in the moment, all she could think about was how despite all the things that had gone wrong and how scary the world had turned, she still had her family and the love of her life was singing to her in a room full of people once more. The set was over before Dovey even realized, her legs carrying her back towards the dressing room she’d left not too long ago and towards her husband and his amazingly talented friends.

The night had become a whirlwind of events, Dovey’s arms wrapping around Calum and stuttering through her praises as her hands and eyes took in his after-show presence. Her mind was distracted throughout the rest of the promo the band had gone to do with the view of him in the skirt and mesh shirt that kept peeking in and out of view from where she stood with the rest of their team. Her eyes never left his as she watched him smile and laugh with the band and it wasn’t until the car door closed next to her and she watched Calum walk in front of the car before sliding into the driver’s seat that she let out the soft breath she was holding in.

“So, what did you think of the show?” Calum asked as he pulled off the highway, his grin wide as his eyes glanced over at Dovey, “Did you like it? I think we did great. Yeah, the set was short but I think it we-”

“Calum, if you don’t pull over right now I will literally crash this car,” Dovey breathed out, her hand reaching out and squeezing Calum’s thigh gently.

The car screech to a halt, Calum’s soft gasp lost on Dovey’s lips as she pulled him into a kiss, Calum’s body leaning over the console to pull her even closer to him. He and Dovey might not have been a couple of a thousand words, but he knew exactly what she was doing when her teeth pulled gently at his bottom lip. He also knew that they didn’t have much time before their car was steamed up and their moans echoed against the tinted windows, so Calum had to work fast.

“Back seat, baby girl,” he breathed out, his forehead resting against his wife’s for just a second before she sprung into action, her soft laughter music to Calum’s ears.

“I am. So proud. Of you.” Dovey mumbled in between the kisses she was leaving on Calum’s skin, her hips rolling against his and pressed up silver chains of his skirt, “You looked so fucking amazing on stage I couldn’t help but think about all the things I wanted you to do to me tonight.”

“Yeah?” Calum breathed out, his hands squeezing Dovey’s thighs as he helped her push up the hem of the skirt she was more than likely soaking through if his leaking cock wasn’t already at fault for it, “Gonna show me all those things you were thinking of?”

“Mhm, only have time for one of them right now though,” Dovey smirked, her hand taking his cock and stroking it a few times, listening to the soft whimpers that left Calum as her own hips rocked against his solid thigh, “Have to wait until we’re back home for the others.”

Calum’s eyes opened enough at one point to see the steam from their act fogging up the windows, the beads of moisture dripping down their foreheads matching the ones racing down the window next to his head. Above him, Dovey looked like an angel, her closed eyes and barely opened mouth making Calum think he was the luckiest man alive. His fingers had dug into her hips, soft whimpers leaving them both with every rock of their hips and Calum wasn’t sure if he’d ever want this feeling to end. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get tired of the way Dovey felt wrapped around him. He’d happily get lost in her warmth and never find his way out again if he could, but the coil in his stomach kept stretching and stretching, threatening to snap as he listened to Dovey’s moans grow louder and louder as her hips rose and fell with every one of them.

“Calum,” she gasped out, one of her hands finding comfort in the soft curls she’d been playing with ever since they’d grown out and coiled against his head.

“I know, I’ve got you,” Calum choked out, his own high speeding towards him as he felt Dovey clench around him as her hips paused and her whimpers were soaked into by Calum’s skin, “Oh fuck, baby, I-”

“Calum,” Dovey whispered, her soft kisses on Calum’s skin making the blinding white stars beneath his eyelids clear slowly, “Hey, come back to me,” she mumbled, the feeling of her fingers running through his hair grounding Calum back to the backseat of his car.

His lungs hurt, the panting breaths he was taking sounding over the muffled music playing from the radio in the front, and his vision was still blurred as he watched Dovey leaned back against his thighs, her hair tousled and her dress still rucked up over her hips. It took him a couple more breaths, the thick air coating his lungs until finally, Calum’s hand found Dovey’s in the darkness of the car and he smiled lazily.

“You back with me, Hood?” she asked softly and smiled, the gentle squeeze she gave his hand making him nod.

“I always come back to you,” Calum whispered, “Always.”

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years

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Could I have 13 and 70 from the smut list with King Arthur?

A/N: Yes, yes, you can. :D Also took some inspiration from the live-action Cinderella movie. Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking.

Pairing: King Arthur x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + only for smut, p in v

Masterlist

Prompts: “Your parents would be royally disappointed if they saw what you have on right now. Even more disappointed at what I’m thinking about doing to you.”& “I know all of your weaknesses.”

You fidgeted in your pretty gown for the eighth time in the last ten minutes, and your mother was less than pleased. “Stop moving, ungrateful child, this is your chance to impress the King! A chance for us to rise among the nobles!” she hisses at you, pulling your shoulders back. A ball in King Arthur’s court, wearing a corset that did little to help in the way of breathing, and your overbearing mother is breathing down your neck. Your sister beside you covered her giggles with a cough as you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, Lady Charlotte!” Mother smiles and thankfully leaves you for a moment alone. You take a deep breath and lower your shoulders, eyes scanning the room for exits.

“She will catch you, you know,” your sister giggles again, “and drag you right back.”

“I feel more like a prized bird on display than a woman,” you scoff, “does she honestly believe that the King is going to look at me in this ridiculous get-up and fall madly in love? We are peasants; how did we even get invited to this? Besides, I haven’t even seen this King before; what if he’s some hideous brute? Maybe that’s why they haven’t commissioned any portraits of him.”

“I’ve heard he’s quite handsome and young.”

“The average life span of a person is only fifty or so years, so how young can he be, twelve?” you groan at seeing the large plume of your mother’s hat coming back your way. “I need to get out of here before mother sells me to the highest coin.”

“Quickly then,” she shoos, “I know why you don’t want to meet the King; he’ll never compare with your handsome stranger.” She grins mischievously at you, and you hold your breath waiting for the fallout.

“How did you know about that?”

“Sister, darling, you are not very good at hiding your feelings.” You glare at her, and she giggles, “I also saw the two of you by the creek when I was out fetching berries last week. He’s quite handsome.”

“There you are!” Mother returns and puts her hands on your shoulders, pretending to show affection. “The King is coming,” she whispers with a grin and moves to stand between the two of you. You look over at your sister and give her your best pleading face, mouthing the words, ‘please don’t tell’ she smiles and nods with a wordless ‘promise.’

The trumpets sound loud, and a man stands forward to announce the King. People sitting rise to their feet, girls around you giggle like children, several pushing up their chests, biting their lips, or pinching their cheeks for some extra color. You stand there with a lump in your throat, trying to swallow around it.

When the King makes his entrance, the crown glistening off the top of his head, your mouth slowly falls open on a gasp. “Art?” you whisper, your mother shushing you; you can feel your sister’s eyes burn into the side of your face. Everyone around you bows and curtsies low in honor, but your body has frozen, your limbs no longer working.

“Curtsy,” your mother grabs your hand and pulls you down with a hiss, and you gasp, nearly falling to the floor with force. The noise draws his attention, and when the crowd rises, his eyes are staring intensely into yours. Those eyes you love, Art the apprentice, is the King of England. “He’s staring at you,” you can hear the glee in your mother’s voice, but all you feel is dread.

The music begins to play, and several Lord’s come up to him showing their offspring off like a cow at the market. And for a moment, his eyes leave yours, and you bolt. “Where are you going?” your mother moves to grab you, but your sister intervenes; God bless her. You walk as quickly as your skirts will allow towards the door to the gardens, and when you are on the threshold, an arm comes out to stop you.

“Wait, milady,” you freeze, half wanting to rip your arm from his grasp and slap him across the face for his misdirection, the other half wanting to turn and get lost in the deep blue of his eyes. “My love,” he whispers only for you to hear, “let me explain.” The second half wins, and you turn slowly, noticing the entire ballroom is watching the scene with rapt interest. His eyes, as blue as the sky reflecting off the sea, have you unraveling before him. “Dance with me?” he straightens to his full height, letting go of your arm and holding out a hand, “please.”

Your hand trembles as you bring it up and place it in his. The warmth that is usually so comforting seems to set your skin ablaze as you follow him to the middle of the ballroom. The music is slow, and you follow the steps with him in a carefully orchestrated dance. “Talk,” you whisper, “why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t lie,” he grins, “not exactly; I am still learning my trade, just like an apprentice.”

You know all the eyes are on you, and you smile when he gives you a turn, stepping hard on his foot when you come around. He grunts but doesn’t stop the dance, continuing each step. “That wasn’t very nice,” he smiles and says under his breath. “Did you forget love? I know all your weaknesses.” His words light the fire in your belly, and you see the mischief in his eyes as the dance comes to a close.

“Would you join me for a stroll in the gardens, Milady?” he asks loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Your Majesty?” Sir Bedivere strides over quickly, “there are many ladies who wish to dance with you, my King; you wouldn’t want to insult them.”

“I need to make sure to give each of the ladies my adequate attention. Isn’t that what you told me, Sir Bedivere?” he grins as the other man nods with a thin line of his lips. “I won’t be alone, don’t worry, Sir Tristan will be my guard.” He looks over at the Knight, who has several ladies of his own to tend to, who nods with great reluctance. “See?” he claps the older man on the shoulder and offers you his elbow. “Milady?”

You don’t have much choice, taking his elbow and following him over the threshold and into the gardens. Sir Tristan follows several steps behind, and you walk into the sprawling greenery. When you are about halfway in, he turns with a whistle, “Oi, Wet Stick, bugger off for a bit; we need to have a chat.”

“You know this bird, boss?” he asks with a raise of his brow.

“Yeah, she’s the one I asked you to bring the invitation to,” you look up at him, alarmed.

“You invited us? Well, aren’t you just full of surprises,” you huff and walk further into the orchard part of the gardens, far from the prying eyes of the partygoers.

“Shit,” he follows quickly behind, and you hear Wet Stick snigger and walk off in the other direction. “Wait, darling, please.”

You whirl around with a finger pushing into his chest, “What game are you trying to play? Find some pretty peasant girl, make her fall in love with you, and then embarrass her in front of all the Nobility in England. Was that your game?” You walk away from him and pace back and forth, “I can’t believe I was so naive to think you cared.”

“I do!” he reaches for you and holds you by the shoulders to face him, “I do care, love. I didn’t want you to love me because I was a King, I wanted you to love me! Arthur, the man, not the crown. I never lied to you,” you glare at him with a hand gesturing to the crown on top of his head, “okay I neglected one small detail.”

“One,” you huff out a laugh pushing away his hands, “one small detail?! Arthur, you’re the fucking King of England! I’m only a poor seamstress, with an insufferable widowed mother, who only dreams of becoming a part of the upper class!” You feel the tears swell in your eyes as the truth all comes crashing down on your shoulders; the man you’ve been in love with for months is unreachable; theres’ no way he can marry you.

“Listen to me,” he reaches for you again and takes three enormous strides pushing your back up against one of the apple trees. “Look at me.”

Your mind won’t slow down, “what was your goal with having us come tonight? So you could shame me? Show off to the nobility that you are one with the people? Do you fuck every peasant girl you meet?”

“Listen to me!” he shakes your shoulders, and your eyes widen, looking up to see him. “Listen to me,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to your own, “there was no game. I saw you in the market ten months ago when I was in the city.”

“Ten months ago? I’ve only known you for six….”

“I didn’t know how to approach you; I couldn’t just go up to you and say hello I’m the King of bloody England, fancy a pint?” You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips, his curving up at the edges. “So I dressed in my old clothes, snuck out of the palace, and started slowly talking to you. Then we went for a walk, and I couldn’t stay away. You’ve bewitched me, love. My love for you is more powerful than the magic of the Mage.”

“Honest?” you ask quietly with trepidation, “do you mean that Art?” He smiles at the nickname he gave you, leaning down to kiss your lips softly.

“Promise, love. It’s only ever and will only ever be you.” He runs his hand against your cheek, and you lean into his touch, letting yourself breathe for the first time all evening.

“I love you too, Arthur; I’m in love with you.” His eyes soften as he gazes down at you.

“We have to go back soon,” he whispers, kissing you softly, “but do you think we got time for?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and you smack his arm with a laugh.

“Is that all you think about?”

He grins and takes a step back, “turn around,” he whispers with a wink. You turn around slowly, gasping when your hands are pressed further into the tree trunk. “Quiet love, don’t want anyone to hear us do we?”

He moves quickly, unlacing the top of your corset and peeling the back open, letting it fall to the ground, your breasts sagging with the relief of being free. He palms your breasts, placing rough, scratchy kisses over your exposed shoulders. His hands come around to his waist, and he pushes up several layers of your skirts, reaching for your pulsing heat. He turns you around, and you reach your hands quickly down to palm him through his leather breeches.

Your hands falter on the fabric, and you look down with wide eyes, “I-I made these,” your voice shakes, “they were commissioned a few weeks ago.” You look up to meet his warm eyes as he nods.

“I wanted to support you, and you are the best seamstress in the city. Only the best for the King,” he murmurs, almost shy.

“Well then, my King,” his eyes darken, “I will need to show my appreciation.” You tug open the breeches, and he slips them down his thighs, lifting your skirts the rest of the way.

He fumbles with the layers, and you giggle at the annoyed look on his face. “I swear, when we marry, I demand you just walk around naked at all times. These skirts are ridiculous.”

You don’t have time to respond, the words caught in your throat, as he lifts you and slides inside with ease. “Fuck, always so wet for me, love,” his hips snap inside you, and his mouth tangles with yours, swallowing your moans.

“Arthur,” you moan, feeling him stretch you on his majestic royal cock. This is not the first time you’ve fucked, having given Art the apprentice your virginity in the woods several months ago, but this was the first time you’ve fucked Arthur, the king, and he didn’t disappoint.

“That’s it, love, let me hear you, but only me, don’t want any of them damn nobles to know I already made my choice. That I already fell in love months ago with a beautiful seamstress in the market.” He grunts, and your cunt flutters around his cock with every word. The love between you flowing over with each thrust of his hips.

“I- ah, I love you, Arthur,” you whimper against his neck, slick with sweat. The air is thick tonight, the incoming storm leaving the air thick and dripping.

He pulls back to look at you, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips, “I love you, you’re my Queen, always have been.”

You buck your hips against him, cumming with a silent cry, head thrown back in ecstasy. He thrusts three more times, and then you feel him cumming deep inside you, thick and warm it dribbles down the inside of your thighs. He’d never done that before, always pulling out at the last moment. You open your eyes and look at him; his pupils are wide, almost black as he stares at you.

“Now they can’t say anything,” he mumbles, and you furrow your brow. “You may be carrying a little Prince or Princess now; I have to marry you.”

You grin at what he’s done, his cock still buried inside you. “You’re naughty,” you giggle.

“I’m naughty?” He asks with a smirk, “your parents would be royally disappointed if they saw what you have on right now. Even more so at what I’m thinking about doing to you.”

“And what’s that?” You shift your hips, and his eyes widen as you tighten around his cock.

His eyes soften, and he cups your cheek gently, bringing your lips softly to his own. The rub of his beard is rough on your cheek as he moves to your ear, “I’m going to end this party early and show you. I already made my choice a long time ago. But, are you ready?” He pulls back, looking deep into your eyes, “Can you stand by my side and love Arthur the King, as much as you love Art, the apprentice?”

Your heart catches in your throat, blood roaring in your ears at his words; you lean into his hand warmly and on your cheek and close your eyes. Opening them slowly and looking into the sea of blue, “I love you, all sides of you, that doesn’t change because of a shiny crown and a title.”

He slowly pulls out, and you whimper as he lowers you back to the ground, pulling down your skirts and fixing your corset. You both work in silence to be presentable again, his eyes bright as he smiles at you, “Then, let’s go,” he murmurs, reaching for your hand, “I think it’s time to announce our engagement.” He snickers as you walk along beside him back towards the party.

“What are you laughing at?” you chuckle, watching his eyes filled with mirth.

“Your mother is going to faint,” he laughs beside you.

You groan and roll your eyes with a laugh, “Good, maybe she will be quiet for a few moments.”

He booms out a laugh and pulls you close, kissing the top of your head, “oh my love, our life will never be boring.”

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#King Arthur x Reader #Female Reader #King Arthur Legend of the Sword #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam #Autumn Writes

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redhoodieone · 3 years

Text

His Girl

Plot: Dick Grayson has a type in women: athletic, feminine, and classy. However, the reader is completely different as she is plus-size, tomboyish, and spontaneous. But a conversation about Y/N between Dick and the batboys takes an unexpected turn one night.

Warnings: Language, Sensitive topics, and Fluff.

“What the hell’s up your ass?” Jason asks Dick, as he hands him a bottle of beer from the refrigerator in the Batcave. It was only until last week that Bruce gave in and allowed a refrigerator to be down there after the boys begged him for one.

As long as it was only for beverages, of course. Bruce had mentioned the boys have been eating too much junk food lately, but the boys knew deep down that his rule is simply for him, because of his age, and maybe for Y/N, too.

Y/N has only been with the Batfamily for a year since her family died at the hands of Two-Face. She had only started training with Bruce for two months now, and the two of them have been working out quite a bit.

Which makes sense of Bruce’s one rule for the refrigerator, though. But that hasn’t stopped Jason from sneaking in food anyways; mostly pizza and lunch meat and cheeses for sandwiches.

But now, Dick’s distant and silence is unbearable since the circus descent acrobat is usually excited and rambling about anything and everything.

“Uh, nothing! I mean...” Dick stutters. His behavior tonight was questionable to say the least. Usually, he would be on his game and even throw some wisecracks but he’s been awfully quiet, nervous even.

“Uh-huh, sure. Whatever you say,” Jason scoffs.

Dick sits on top of the hood of the Batmobile while he peels the sticky label from the beer bottle. He notices Tim and Damian walking out from the showers and are already dressed in sweatpants and t-shirts. Bruce is seated at the Batcomputer, still in costume but minus the cowl. Jason sits at the small table and sips from his beer and snacks on a triple meat and cheese sandwich he must have made quickly.

And Alfred had long gone to bed after Bruce forced him to get some rest since they’ve returned home and are not dead.

Dick suddenly notices Y/N must still be in the showers, on the other side of the cave for privacy where the guys can’t bother the girls.

“Fine...I’ve been...having these thoughts and dreams about Y/N lately,” Dick confesses. He notices Jason staring at him with a confused expression.

“Yeah, and…?”

“Well…lately, I’ve been thinking about her as…more than a friend. I’ve been seeing her in a new light. And you know I’ve always thought she was cool, and funny, and incredibly smart,” Dick continues, with a small smile. “But…I’ve never been sexually attracted to women like her before.”

Jason purses his lips and appears to think it over. “So, I don’t see the problem.”

“I just told you I’ve never felt this way about Y/N or any woman like her before.”

“Because you’re shallow.”

“I’m not shallow,” Dick argues, suddenly feeling defensive at Jason’s attack. “I just…I’ve never seen heavy women as hot, you know?”

“You can try to justify all that, but the point is, you’re shallow.”

“Have you ever slept with a heavy girl before, Jason?!” Dick snaps.

Jason chuckles and grins. “Actually, I have.”

“Bullshit,” Dick scoffs.

“Yeah, I have Dickie-bird. It happened three years ago, when my Outlaws and I kicked Black Mask’s ass. We went to a bar to celebrate in downtown Gotham. Roy and Star left early to go fuck or something. I was left alone and I was about to call it a night until this smoking hot woman took a seat next to me. She had long dark hair, tan skin, and curves that made my mouth water and my cock hard enough to pound nails. She was gorgeous, but there were these assholes around her and were calling her fat and telling her to leave because no one here would take her home. And do you want to know what I did?” Jason asks.

“What?” Dick asks quietly.

“I took her home, after I broke all those guys’ jaws. She was fucking amazing, man. She had a magnificent ass that she actually allowed me to spank. Her curves were endless, and after I fucked her good three times, cuddling and falling asleep with her was probably the best part of the night. I’ve never felt so…comfortable and felt warm, because I actually felt someone beside me,” Jason admits.

Dick raises an eyebrow at him. “Wow, I didn’t think something like that could happen to you, Jason. If anything, I thought you were shallow.”

“I used to be, until I realized I was judging others, when I was actually trying to have others not judge me. Alfred actually helped me with that. I don’t remember every word he said exactly but he said I wasn’t trying all the ice cream flavors out there. Like, I was always sticking to a certain flavor of ice cream, and I wasn’t trying other kinds, meaning I should be looking at all types of women. And after my one night stand with that magnificent woman’s ass, I realized bigger girls aren’t deal breakers; they’re just more to love,” Jason admits, and shrugs with a smug smile.

“That’s…I don’t even know what to say. But Y/N’s different. She’s someone we know and it makes it harder. And my problem isn’t that I’m shallow, it’s how I’m supposed to handle my feelings about her.”

“Yeah, you are, Dick. Y/N’s literally the best woman we’ve ever met. Hell, the best woman I’VE ever met. She’s fucking funny, she’s so caring and kind, she’s smarter than Timbo when it comes to common sense,” Jason lists off his reasons.

“That’s true! I’m not going to lie about that!” Tim interrupts from the distance.

“Y/N’s real, she doesn’t bullshit about anything like other girls. She’s honest, and that’s a rare thing to find nowadays. And fuck…she can really handle her alcohol, she can down shots of Fireball like it’s water,” Jason adds.

“You don’t think I know all that? Of course, I do! That’s why I’m having such a hard time dealing with my feelings for her. I’ve only ever been with tall, athletic women, who wear skirts and dresses, eats healthy, and are…well, feminine,” Dick confesses. A guilty expression shows on his face. “And Y/N’s not any of that. She’s really short, kinda chubby, and she’s more of a tomboy type, who’s loud and rambunctious, and eats like a man.”

Jason snorts. “And that’s a problem why? That’s why Y/N’s fucking awesome, man! I actually really like how she’s not afraid to be herself. She’s not fake. Do you know how long it took for her to be comfortable with all of us and be who she is rather than how she thought we expected from her? And I don’t know about you but I love how she eats, whenever we go out to restaurants, I actually like how I can eat the way I want and not feel like a fat ass because I know her and I both love what we love and fuck all who have a problem with that!”

Bruce turns around in his chair and gives both boys a warning look. Even Tim and Damian silently take a seat and watch closely.

“Fuck…Y/N is the perfect woman. She’ll always be in my eyes,” Jason admits, looking down at his beer longingly before taking a sip.

“If you feel so strongly about her then why haven’t you tried to go out with her or sleep with her?” Dick asks angrily.

Jason’s pause takes everyone by surprise. “Because she can do better than me.”

“You-you actually tried to get with her?” Dick stammers.

“Oh, yeah I definitely did. I think about a year ago. I had spent the summer with her here while everyone was busy with the whole Justice League and Superman bullshit,” Jason explains. “You were with the Titans with Tim and Damian. It was just me and her.”

“Alfred was there as well,” Bruce mumbles.

“Anyways, call it cheesy as hell like those romcoms, but we actually got really close. She’s a spitfire for sure, but she really knows how to get under your skin,” Jason chuckles.

Tim and Damian nod their heads in agreement with that.

“And I obviously made the whole situation uncomfortable as fuck because when I told her how I felt, she rejected me. She said we were too alike, we’d butt heads all the time. And after that, I never brought it up again.”

Jason’s confession gives Dick a sense of confidence.

“Look, if you want to ask her out and do all that then I support you. Just know if you fucking hurt her or do anything wrong, I’ll slit your throat even if you’re family,” Jason threatens seriously.

“I wouldn’t even know how to bring it up with her,” Dick says.

“Well, don’t bring up how her weight and appearance bothers you,” Jason says seriously.

“It doesn’t!”

“Okay. How did you ask Barbara, Star, Zatanna, and-”

“I get it, Jason. I’ll just talk to her and tell her I have strong feelings for her,” Dick interrupts him. “I’ll just tell her the truth.”

“You already did.”

That voice belonged to none other than Y/N. All the guys in the Batcave jerked their heads to the top of the stairs where Y/N stood and looked down with tears running down her cheeks. She was wearing her plaid pajama pants and a loose black t-shirt she stole from one of them a long time ago, she doesn’t exactly know who though.

Dick and Jason slowly stand up. Dick carefully walks over to the stairs while Jason cautiously follows.

“Y/N…” Dick whispers, already feeling guilty and nervous that she had probably heard everything. “Please listen to me…”

“WHY?! So, you can tell me you didn’t mean any of that, when you actually did. I thought you were different! I didn’t know you could judge someone like that! Especially someone like me!” Y/N yells. “I thought you were my friend!”

“I am your friend! Y/N, please give me a chance to explain! I really like you, and-and I was just trying to ask for help so I can talk to you!” Dick pleads.

“Don’t lie to me! You were only asking for help because you didn’t know how to deal with me being fat and manly! I’m sorry I’m not like Barbara and Star! I’m sorry I’m not beautiful and thin! I’m sorry I’m not perfect for you!” Y/N cries out and runs up the stairs.

“Y/N! Wait! Please!” Dick shouts for her. He chases after her.

By the time Dick reaches Y/N’s bedroom door, it’s locked. He can hear her crying, automatically feeling like shit for being the reason why she’s hurt.

“Y/N, please…” Dick tries again.

“Leave me alone, Dick!”

Dick swallows hard and forces himself to move away from her door. There was no use for him to stand there; he’d already broke her trust and possibly ruined their friendship. He might have even ruined his chances with her.

Jason approaches Dick. “Is she crying?” he asks.

“Yes,” Dick chokes out. He runs a hand through his dark hair. “Fuck, Jason…I don’t know what to do. She won’t even talk to me.”

“You should go, Dick. I think you’ve done enough.”

Dick was a little taken aback by Jason’s command. He pushes himself to walk away anyways.

“Bruce wants to talk to you. You should go find him before he finds you,” Jason adds.

Dick exhales heavily and leaves. Jason shakes his head in disappointment at him. He takes a deep breath and knocks on Y/N’s bedroom door.

“Doll, it’s Jay. Please let me in,” Jason says softly. “I just want to talk to you.”

He didn’t think she would open the door for him. He didn’t think she would want to talk to him even though he hadn’t pissed her off or upset her in any way. But Y/N unlocked her door and even opened it for him.

Jason was deeply heartbroken to see Y/N; her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks were wet, and she had the devastating look on her beautiful face. He quickly walked into her room and shut the door, quickly locking it.

He had to be cautious though. He knew couldn’t say or do the things he wants to do with her right now. Instead, he slowly and carefully approaches her. She allows him to wrap his strong arms around her, bringing her closely to his body to hold and protect her from everyone and everything.

“Shh…it’s okay, sweetheart. I got you. I’m not going anywhere,” Jason whispers into her hair. He tries desperately to not inhale the addicting scent of her shampoo and lingering perfume so much. “You’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Y/N lifts her face from Jason’s chest and gazes up at him. The sight of her glistening eyes makes him draw her closer to him.

“What did I do wrong, Jay? What did I do to deserve all that? Is everything about me really bad?” Y/N asks softly, on the verge of tears again.

“No. No, don’t say that. Don’t say any of that! Nothing is wrong with you. You’re beautiful, Y/N. You’re perfect just the way you are,” Jason admits.

Y/N shakes her head in disbelief. It breaks Jason’s heart more when she tries to pull away from his embrace, but he refuses to let her go. His grip tightens and he holds her as if she’d disappear and leave him all alone.

“That’s not true, Jay,”

“It is true. Hell Y/N, you’re the most badass woman I’ve ever met. You don’t take shit from any of us. You’ve managed to stay here even after all the bullshit everyone has put you through,” he explains. He even chuckles at a memory. “You’ve even made Bruce cry, remember? Remember you called him out on his bullshit when he refused to train you? You’re almost a savage like Alfred, you even make Wonder Woman and Catwoman look like dollar tree prizes, and that’s no lie.”

Y/N looks down at her feet. Jason knows she still doesn’t believe him.

“You’re always perfect in my eyes, Y/N. There isn’t a goddamn thing I would change about you,”

“If I’m so perfect, then why does Dick think so low of me?” Y/N asks. She sniffles adorably and looks back up at him.

“Because he’s a fucking idiot who can’t see the best thing that’s in front of him,” Jason answers, and looks into Y/N’s eyes before he looks at her lips. “But his loss is my gain.”

#dc comics #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #dc comics jason todd #dc comics batman #dick grayson #bruce wayne #tim drake #damian wayne

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violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SEVEN || ASSAULT

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of forced marriage + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 28 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.5k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : after rain

↳ next episode : boredom

↳ barista’s notes : hi again....barista violettelueur is back from the shadows of not writing anything ┬┴┬┴┤•ᴥ•ʔ├┬┴┬┴ but i want to apologies to you all for not working on your coffee orders, i just been really being in a non productive mood theses days but i should really bring it back up since i have mocks coming in soon....ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but overall, i hope you enjoy today’s episode and have a wonderful day/night ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode...

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“I think you can do that,” you stated in a quiet tone, causing Fushiguro to look in your direction only to see you staying still in the position that you had set yourself in before slowly pulling yourself back up to sit in a normal position, leading Fushiguro to go back to what he was in deep thought about.

‘I don’t get it, though. Why...did you run back then? What a waste of talent, but the girl back at that place, she knows how to use her technique extremely well’

“You possess such intellect, such skill, such power and such talent and yet you refuse to go against me with your full potential, are you mocking me?”

‘I have the potential to beat special grades? Is that what he meant by that?’ Fushiguro thought, before turning to look at you to discover you were looking into the distance while continuously sipping on your orange juice like the addict you were.

‘What was she trying to tell me? It seemed like L/N knows something...intellect?’

Slowly but curiously, Fushiguro began to reciprocate your previous movements by letting his hand touch the step between his legs before waiting for a second to see what you were trying to inform him, only for his hand to steadily go deeper into his shadow leading him to widen his eyes at this discovery.

“Tuna, tuna,” Inumaki mentioned, as he pointed at Fushiguro since he noticed what he was doing, leading Zenin and Panda to look at their classmate wanting to know what he was trying to bring their attention to.

“Huh? What?” Zenin asked in confusion, before turning her head in the shikigami user’s direction to realise what he was doing.

“Senpai, I think I can do it,” Fushiguro stated, with a rare smile before looking in your direction once again to see you were still staring at the field in front of you.

‘Such intellect…’

ꕥ

“Ahh?”

Suddenly, after you masterfully was able to swipe Zenin’s footing with the metal pole-arm she had given you for the practice match, you were suddenly hoisted into the arm once you fully turned around, only to suddenly find Panda effortlessly lift you up with his paws on either side, catching you by complete surprise.

“Are they finally going to get her?!” Kugisaki shouted in question since, for the past few days of training, no one was able to defeat you in any of the practice matches they had set out.

However, before Panda could act of on his plan, you gracefully spun your body around to face the other way like a professional gymnast before concentrating your cursed energy to your leg and foot as you swang down to kick the sorcerer in the back causing the animal to let go of the pole in pain as he fell while you landed with some stagger since you didn’t have enough time to plan your footing with Inuamki behind you to make sure you didn’t fall down.

“Maybe not...” Fushiguro muttered while sitting next to his classmate as both of them were sitting on the stairs spectating the fight going on between you and the two other second-years.

“Wow!” Kugisaki gleefully mentioned as she lightly clapped her hands for your performance.

“Ah sorry senpai, did I kick you too hard?” you sincerely asked, as you crouch down by his side to check if he was doing okay, to which he gave you a thumbs up to indicate his well-being before praising you for your performance which led you to stand up straight to move over to Zenin to give her a hand on getting back up.

“You’re really strong,” Zenin muttered with a smile causing you to smile back before stating, “Nah, you really made it challenging since it’s been a while since I fought someone good with weapons,” which lead your upperclassmen to tell you to get Fushiguro since it was his turn.

Leisurely walking to your classmates by the stairs, you casually threw the pole towards Fushiguro, who caught it instantly, before mentioning to him that it was his turn to train with Zenin leading him to get up from his seat to move to his designated area for you to then take his seat next to Kugisaki, leading to your classmate to place her head on your shoulder as you took out your phone to scroll through a bit.

“Is that your sister, Gojo?” Kugisaki question, leading you to turn your head slightly to look down at her only to find her staring down at the screen of your phone to which you turned back to you.

“No, that’s my mother,” you answered as you stare down at your wallpaper that showcases a picture with you and your mother in what seemed to be in a professional setting as you both were seated on what seemed to be on an antique-like style couch while wearing similar baby-blue colour dresses as you had a familiar bouquet of blue hydrangeas with white roses in hand.

“Really?! She looks so young,” Kugisaki commented, as she, in a state of shock, grabbed your wrist and looked closer into the screen to observe the picture. “You really suit baby-blue as well, but black is more of your suit in my opinion,” your classmate commented as she released her grip before lifting her head off your shoulder to peer at your outfit.

At this current moment in time, you were wearing some black nylon cargo joggers as well as black trainers paired with a long-sleeved black cropped top since you knew it was going to be a little hot today but you never really liked wearing bright colours - you were just more comfortable with darker ones like your uniform.

“Do you think so? So, should I get this Balenciaga bag then?” you asked as you tilted the phone towards her to show the bag that has been on your wishlist for some time.

“You like Balenciaga too?!” Kugisaki screamed in shock as she turned to you with widened eyes, resulting in your doing the same, only for you both to then suddenly thoroughly search the whole website to tell each other your favourite items while planning a shopping trip together since you both were giving each other ideas on clothing to purchase.

“That’s such a cute jumper,” you commented, as you, once again, presented Kugisaki your phone for her to agree with you before showing a jacket that she has been eyeing for quite some time. “That looks so good, you could pair it with a jean skirt and maybe a top, maybe orange to match your hair,” you commented, leading Kugisaki to smile and nod at you.

“That jumper is quite long, so you could wear like a cropped white turtleneck or maybe the same coloured blue dress shirt, add that to your wishlist!” Kugisaki mentioned, while at the same time pressing the heart icon to add the item on your wishlist without you lifting a single finger.

Suddenly, while you two were busy looking up items together, a sudden shadow overcast you both leading you to look up to find a roughed up Fushiguro in front of you before he mentioned that it was Kugisaki’s turn to train which cause her to pout before giving her phone to you, so you could take care of it before making her way to the two second-years that were waiting for her as the shikigami user took her seat.

“How was it?” you asked, as you closed your phone, only to hear a sigh from your classmate.

“It’s not bad, just not used to using weapons,” Fushiguro commented, as he stared out into the distance to see Kugisaki running away from Panda with Zenin looking at them in complete confusion.

“We got more than a month left, you should be fine,” you commented, as you looked at your phone screen to see the date. “Besides, you won’t constantly use them but it’s good to use since you can combine physical attacks with weapon attacks when it comes to battle,” you explained as you continued to stare at the family photo on your phone.

‘When was the last time I wore a dress like that?’ you thought, as you tilted your head in confusion.

“What was the reason you kept being on the run?” Fushiguro suddenly asked, causing you to break from your trance to turn to look at your classmate in confusion, only to discover a nonchalant look on his face like it was a common question to ask - maybe it was for the jujutsu sorcerer world.

“Because I’m not supposed to exist Fushiguro, you’re a Zenin by blood, you should know that my clan shouldn’t exist after the golden age, we disappeared,” you answered since you were perplexed on why the sorcerer beside you, asked a question with an answer that he probably already knows.

“But you’re a powerful sorcerer, you wouldn’t have that much trouble would you?” Fushiguro asked, leading you to shift your eyes down to avoid any eye contact before turning back to the track field in front of you to see the now common sight of Kugisaki being spun around in the air by Panda.

“I don’t know what they’ll do to me, I don’t need a bounty on my head everywhere I go, it was better for me to hide in the shadows as long as the L/N clan did,” you answered with a hushed tone, to which Fushiguro barely caught since you turned so quiet.

ꕥ

“If any of the other clans knew of her existence, she would be forced to bring the L/N clan back up again or forced into a marriage,” Gojo explained, as he relaxed in his usual black chair, while Fushiguro leaned against the windows of the room they were at right now.

“Marriage?” Fushiguro questioned in confusion since he was confused on what the point of you being in a forced marriage when you were enough as a sorcerer by yourself.

“To continue the inheritance of her cursed technique,” Gojo informed his student, as he sat up from his relaxed posture. “Her inherited cursed technique is an extremely powerful one that any sorcerer wants, I don’t think she has mastered all the extreme spells as of this moment in time, but she knows what she is doing,” Gojo expanded on his explanation while tilted his glasses down to eye his student to check if he understood what he had said so far.

“But what would a marriage between the clans do? It would only decrease the change of the technique even being inherited,” Fushiguro asked, only for his teacher to smirk.

“I’m sure Y/N knows this, but that’s what the Zenin Clan demanded back in the Heian era before Sukuna was sealed, that a marriage was needed to ‘strengthen their power’ only for the L/N clan to refuse,” Gojo stated bluntly causing Fushiguro eyes to widen, as the Six Eye sorcerer continued with, “her real existence must be kept a secret and that’s my job now as her adoptive father since I’ve been entrusted with her safety,”.

“Entrusted? By who? L/N?” Fushiguro interrogated in a perplexed tone, only to receive a shrug at the end, gaining no answer to his pending question.

ꕥ

Continuously staring at you, Fushiguro couldn’t but recall the conversation he had with Gojo, remembering the details that were mentioned within the chat. There was no surprise in his mind now on why you were extremely anxious about him and Gojo when you first met them; you probably thought you were going to be forced into something that you didn’t want to happen.

“Do you…hate me?”

“Huh?” you confusingly said before quickly turning your head to look at Fushiguro, once again seeing his usually stoic face looking straight at you while you gave him the surprised look. “What makes you ask that?” you queried since you didn’t expect him to ask such a question especially since you both had worked together for a few weeks now as well as fought together against Sukuna back at the Eushi Detention Centre.

“Since I’m a Zenin by blood, do you-” Fushiguro explained before he was cut off by you flicking his forehead with your finger in an annoyed manner, as the impact reflected on your emotions causing Fushiguro to wince slightly at the pain since he didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

“Why would I hate you? As much as I hate the Zenin clan for what they did to my clan, you and Zenin-senpai ain’t that bad. In fact, you both ain’t bad at all,” you stated before sighing in annoyance since it was an extremely stupid question for him to ask. “Fushiguro, if I hated you, I would have made you fight Sukuna alone and wait until he came to me, don’t you think, you drag?” you rhetorically asked, before lightly slapping the side of his head to shake some of his brain cells to wake up before looking at the track field to see Kugisaki getting up from the floor with an angered expression as she demanded a re-match causing you to giggle lightly at the sight.

“We’re cool Fushiguro, there’s no need to worry about it,” you reassured the sorcerer, before standing up on your feet with your hand out towards your classmate’s direction.

“Come on, it seems like we’re taking a break and about to run some errands for the second-years,” you commented, causing Fushiguro to turn to look at the field to see Inumaki signalling a timeout sign before imitating a drinking action, informing you both to get some water for them as well as yourselves.

Taking your hands, he pulled himself up before you both disconnected your hands, leading you to turn around to grab the desired bottles of water that were required before coming back to resume training.

“Gojo! Wait for me, we need to talk more about our shopping trip!” Kugisaki loudly shouted, causing you to halt and turn your head to see your classmate rushing up the stairs to come to you before resuming once she was by your side.

Slowly from behind, Fushiguro decided to walk behind you both as he knew his upperclassmen would tell him to hurry up with the errands that they had placed on your three.

“You really need to stop with your assaults Gojo,” Fushiguro stated, as he pressed his index and middle finger on the middle of his forehead, as he remembered the pain that came along with your flick as well as complaining about the side head slap he had gained from you.

“Nah, you just got to stop asking stupid questions Fushiguro,” you commented back before asking Kugisaki want she was planning to get.

‘So make sure you’re not alone in this world like I am Y/N, I want you to be happy even when we’re both stuck with this burden!’

‘I’m trying mother,’ you thought, as you tightly gripped your phone that was still in your pocket.

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akaashisbabygirl · 3 years

Text

camboy part three

a/n: i am so happy to finally get this fic out. it’s been something i am honoured to write and i’m glad you all have been enjoying it too. this is gonna be the last part, and yeah, i feel as if my fic is rushed but i didn’t want to make it toooo long, if that makes sense. i hope you all enjoyed reading :)

pairings: camboy!akaashi x female!reader

warnings: slight angst towards the beginning, vaginal penetration, oral (giving and receiving)

words: 2128

part one | part two

“akaashi…” you noticed the familiar set up to the way the cam boy has. the bed, the walls, even the pretty skirts, some of the toys he’s brought out before sitting on the bed beside him, “what are you doing?”

“y-y/n...” his voice was shocked and shaking, unsure and embarrassed from what you had just caught him doing.

he tried his best to hide and cover himself up, flipping the skirt down and trying to cover himself with the blankets on the bed. he was scared. he never wanted you to see him like this. not now, not yet.

“i-i can explain!” he tried to hide his actions, as tears welled up in his soft turquoise coloured eyes.

“w-why do you have the same bedsheets and set up as him... that camboy- why are you wearing a skirt? why did i find a skirt in the washing, was it your girlfriend? why didn’t you tell me?” you started to cry as the word ‘girlfriend’ rolled off your tongue.

you hated that you were here right now, that you were watching this now with your very own two eyes. you hated that you had to comfort the man you love over something that you accidentally walked in on. you wondered if there was a girl in the room too.

“is there a girl in here right now? your girlfrie-”

“there’s no girl.”

despite akaashi being anxious, his voice was surprisingly calm. his voice was soft, almost as if he was trying to calm both you and him down at this very moment.

“you-you shouldn’t lie to me about these things... akaashi... you don’t know how much it hurts me...” you sobbed, tears rolling down your face as you buried your head in yours hands.

akaashi took the skirt off, undressing as you cried. he knew it was rude, but he didn’t want you to see him like this. he got dressed up properly as quick as he could. pulling you into his arms, he set you down on the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around you. he hated how disgusting his room felt all of a sudden, that it wasn’t his room anymore. thankfully, his sheets had been washed so they weren’t stained with his cum. you had seen him as someone else this whole time, yet he never thought you of all people would’ve known about his camboy job.

“i’m sorry that i never told you about my job as a camboy. i was too embarrassed to say anything, thinking that you would think so low of me. i don’t have a girlfriend, the skirts are mine and i didn’t realise you were going to see. i’m sorry to have made you upset, y/n.”

his voice was still soft and calming. tears stopped flowing from your eyes after hearing him confess his true feelings on the matter. it made you feel a little better about yourself, knowing that what you had thought about him wasn’t exactly true.

“akaashi...” you pulled your head away from his chest, seeing how your tears had made marks on his dark blue shirt.

knowing he didn’t have a girlfriend, that he was single, you thought as if now was maybe the right time to tell him the truth.

“akaashi i love you. i’ve always loved you and i didn’t know how to tell you. i was scared... so scared when i found the skirt because i thought that i had lost all my chances of being with you. akaashi- i-i want to be with you. i want to be close to you. to touch you, to feel you, there’s so much i want yet i’m too scared to admit because i’m scared you don’t feel the same way.”

he smiled softly, his hand coming up to your face to cup your cheek.

“you really don’t think i feel the same way. you must be oblivious, my dear y/n. i have also loved you for so long, and didn’t know how to tell you. we’re in the same boat, love.”

almost as if it were on cue, you cried again. you didn’t know why you were crying- maybe it was because all your feelings had finally been understood and weight had lifted from your shoulders and faded in with the thin air. he held you again.

“y/n, will you be my girlfriend? i wanted to ask you out in a better way than this, but will you be mine?”

“i-i will. i’m sure. i want to be yours, and i want you to be mine.”

“you’ll only be mine, and i’ll only be yours,” akaashi said softly as his lips ghosted softly over your forehead.

he set the two of you down on the bed, turning the lights off and letting darkness fill the bedroom. akaashi tucked you in under the sheets, kissing your forehead sotly.

“i love you. always have.”

the night was like a blur. one minute, you were asleep. next, you were awake. having akaashi’s strong arms wrapped around you, holding you, made you feel safe and protected. you were happy, watching how the man slept next to you. his features beautiful. you loved how beautiful he was.

akaashi never understood just how beautiful he was to everyone around him. he grew up with compliments from family, “you’re such a gorgeous boy, keiji” but he had never thought anything about them. it’s not that he didn’t believe that the comments were true, it’s that he didn’t know how to respond to them. what was everyone seeing that he couldn’t see?

he had always thought he was just a normal boy.

one who people would see in their everyday lives and notice, yet, not think much about or question. he hated being the centre of attention, yet, he had chosen the spotlight as a camboy.

he wanted to hide himself from everyone, unsure about how they would act if they knew what he looked like in real life. would they ‘fall for him’? would they think he’s beautiful? probably not - he was sure that if he showed his face to his fans they would all just call him ‘hot’ and ‘sexy’.

yet, the factor that made him the most anxious was ‘what if someone who knew him saw him doing this’? how would they feel about him then? what if it was one of his old mates from volleyball or even bokuto? they would be disgusted in him, right?

softly, you traced your finger over akaashi’s cheek. you had never seen him like this before, completely vulnerable for you. he never wanted to show off a sign of weakness, but here, having you in his arms made akaashi feel as if he could protect someone he holds dear to him.

he slept happily, knowing that you felt the same way. he didn’t want to admit or even show how happy he was. akaashi wanted to pick you up in his arms and spin you around in the air with a gigantic smile on his face. he wanted to show you the most love he could muster and make you feel safe and at home with him.

it was the start of something new for akaashi.

something he wanted and craved so desperately.

something he could start and build with you.

you.

the person he loves. you.

the day went by quickly and akaashi found himself sitting at his desk with thoughts clouding his mind. he needed the money, he really needed it. but, at the same time he never wanted to make you uncomfortable with what he was doing.

akaashi knew that you seeing other girls fall in love with his body and make sexual comments about him would make you jealous. even if you were to shake your head and say ‘it’s alright, i don’t mind’, he still knew that you would be clutching your fists with jealously. that you would get upset and probably even cry. akaashi wasn’t going to put you in that spotlight.

“i’m going to quit being a camboy.”

his statement had almost made you drop your glass. what had made him decide to stop being a camboy?

“w-why, what made you decide to stop?” you asked, setting your glass down on the table.

“you’d be uncomfortable. i’d be comfortable if you were a cam girl, so i’m not going to put you in a predicament where you’re going to not be okay with it,” he explained.

silently, you thanked akaashi, happy with the choice that he had made. it’s almost funny that he knew how you were feeling without you having to address your concerns out loud.

“thank you,” you mumbled softly.

a week at most had gone by. the apartment had been changed around. you had moved all your items into akaashi’s room, which was the biggest room of the apartment. even though the two of you had been living in this apartment for a few years, it still felt as if it was the first time you and him were moving in together.

your old bedroom had been changed into a guest room. the whole apartment had been changed up. it used to feel as if it was a small apartment that two roommates shared. now, it felt as a place you and akaashi could both call home.

lips hungrily attacked each other as you straddled akaashi on the bed. his back was pressed up against the headboard, his hands on your hips as the two of you made out.

your lips moved down to his neck, kissing and sucking softly, mumbling, “i want you.”

“are you sure?” he pulled away, looking into your eyes.

you nodded your head, “very sure.”

akaashi smirked, guiding you down to be in line with his hard length. your hands toyed with his pants, pulling them plus his boxers down. akaashi watched as you took his length into your mouth, maintaining eye contact with him as you did.

his hand moved to your hair, pushing your head down to take more of him into your mouth. he loved the way you sounded when you were choking on his length. akaashi watched as tears formed in your eyes from how big he was, how your body softly and slowly grinded into the bedsheets from the lack of physical touch you were getting.

“thats enough dear,” he said, “i wanna eat you out.”

he was very clear with his words. you pulled away from him, laying your back down softly against the bedsheets.

akaashi’s hands held your thighs open as his mouth softly wrapped around your clit. he moaned softly against your pussy, loving the way your wetness gushed around him. he shoved two fingers into your hole, curling them and having you moan louder than before. he smirked, his tongue moving softly against your cunt and his fingers hitting deep inside of you.

it hadn’t been the first time the two of you were sexual since you first started going out, yet, every time you and akaashi did something, there was love there.

he didn’t want to rush anything with you, but these last years he had spent with you had felt as if the two of you had been together forever. he wasn’t worried to start anything with you. akaashi trusted you and you trusted him.

he knew what it was like to love you, to crave you, to want you. he desired everything from you.

most importantly.

he couldn’t wait for the day he could make you his all over again.

akaashi sat back up against the headboard, his hands on your hips as he slowly placed you down on his cock. your hands held tightly onto his shoulders as he slowly moved you up and down, increasing the pace painfully slow.

“keiji~” you moaned softly against his neck.

akaashi’s hips slammed faster into you, having you moan out his name louder and louder with every thrust.

“i love you,” he moaned as he brought your face down into a kiss.

akaashi loves you.

he loves you for the person that you are.

akaashi loves spending everyday with you. he loves getting to call you ‘mine’ and ‘his’. you’re a beautiful person, and even if you fear as if you’re not good enough for someone as beautiful as him, he would be there to tell you otherwise.

over the last weeks and years, you’d helped akaashi understand himself more. understand what he really does desire in this world.

what he desires, what he wants to make happy, what makes him happy:

it’s all you.

“i love you,” akaashi softly kissed your forehead as he covered the two of you under the sheets of the bed.

“i love you,” you smiled, melting into his arms once again.

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyū!!#haikyuu smut #nsfw—🎟#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi smut

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sourholland · 3 years

Text

A Royal Convenience || Tom Holland

| Series Masterlist |

Part Two

AN → You might all be wondering where I’ve been, I honestly just needed a bit of a break for my mental health! I’m sorry, I’ve missed taking to you all <3

Summary → When an alliance is made between England and France, you are sent away to marry the crown prince and heir to the British throne. Except both you and Prince Thomas despise each other at all odds, subjected to the hand of the monarchy and unable to stand each other.

Pairing(s) → Prince!Tom x Princess!Reader

Warnings → None

Word Count → 2.0k

“Could one of you run off and find out if my son is planning on gracing us all with his attendance.” Nicola’s voice was assertive, dripping with irritation at the Prince’s tardiness.

A man holding a closed box with an assortment of rings stood off to the side of the drawing-room. He was stiff, awkward even, in the presence of not only the Queen, but the Princess and future Queen of England. His eyes were trained on the freshly polished floors, clutching the velvet.

Behind you stood your newly introduced ladies in waiting, there were three: Lady Eloise, Lady Charlotte, and Lady Andrea. They were very young, pretty, and had very clearly come from aristocratic backgrounds. Each of them held a title, meaning they’d soon enough marry. You’d planned on meeting them for tea, but Queen Nicola figured it would be better to bring them in before you chose an engagement ring.

“Apologies, mum,” Tom came through the double doors, his hair skewed and his shirt disheveled. He bowed, taking a spot beside his mother and averting his eyes from you.

“Thomas, wonderful of you to join us,” she drawled. “Do begin, sir,” she said, motioning towards the man.

He opened the box a bit shakily, dozens of diamonds gleaming. They ranged from color to carrots of gold, each holding a different and more interesting background. You couldn’t help but to reach out and pick up one with a deep sapphire.

“That was once worn by the late Queen Elizabeth l,” he droned on, continuing to tell you about the long history of where the ring had come from and what it signified.

“What do you think, Thomas,” Nicola asked. She was practically beaming at each ring you slid onto your finger. Like no matter which one you chose, none would be the wrong choice.

“It is not I that will have to wear the dreadful thing,” he replied shortly. “Therefore, I should not be the person deciding which one she chooses, though I wish you’d quicken the pace a bit.”

“Since you’ve made it clear that you have no intention on weighing in on the decision, I ask you kindly, Prince Tom, to please refrain from commenting,” you quipped. He took a step back irritably, pulling at the collar of his undershirt.

You reached into the box once more, pulling out a large European cut diamond ring. The several diamonds displayed at the golden band left you lifting your hand, staring at your ring finger absentmindedly. It was classic, yet had too many diamonds to be considered simple. A royal staple, much like the tiara you’d eventually choose to wear on your wedding day.

“This one,” you said. “This is the one.”

The Queen drifted towards you, biting back excitement as she assessed the ring. It was clearly too large and would need to be sized, yet still had the same effect. She held it up as you had done, clutching your hand and motioning towards your ladies to come and look.

“That’s absolutely darling,” Charlotte mused.

“It’s stunning,” Andrea agreed.

The Prince soon enough took his leave, slipping out of the room before Nicola could notice his absence. She looked disappointed when she looked over and was met with an empty space where he’d just stood.

“He’ll come around soon enough,” she said, this was less reassuring to you and seemed more comforting for herself.

“Do tell me about yourself, Andrea,” you murmured on, arm in arm as you both perused the large gardens.

“Well there’s not much to know, miss,” she replied swiftly.

“Please, I wish you’d call me Y/N in private company,” you laughed a bit. “I’ve never had much of a thing for titles.”

“Her Majesty would simply chastise me.”

There were blooming flowers and the grass was slowly becoming more and more green. The air was a bit brisk, the cloak draped along your shoulders thinner than you’d like. The soft breeze felt nice, though. Andrea was simple looking, pulled back brown hair and a heart-shaped face. She explained that she was one of three girls, the third daughter of an earl.

“I must admit, I do wish we’d have met under different circumstances,” you mused, plucking a lily from the shrubs.

“I’m not sure what you mean, miss,” she looked over at you a bit sideways.

“I just mean—well under the circumstance that I wasn’t being pawned off on the Prince.”

You fumbled at your skirts for a moment, pressing at the fabrics of your afternoon dress. It was ivory, beautiful, really. Though, much different from anything you’d have worn in France.

“I’m sure His Royal Highness will be as pleased as everyone else once you are both wed.”

“That’s hard to believe,” you chuckled. “He has hardly said a word to me since I arrived in London.”

She looked nervous, like she was afraid to say the wrong thing. Her cheeks flushed lightly, the glint in her eyes a bit brighter. Andrea just looked over to you and gave a soft smile, as if to say everything would be alright.

“Do you think that Prince Thomas is handsome?” You asked, curious of her opinion. You watched her cheeks redden, an awkward laugh escaping her lips.

“That is not for me to judge, miss,” she answered almost immediately.

“No—but, I just want your opinion, do you think he is handsome?” You asked once again.

She hesitated for a moment, “yes, I think the Prince is certainly very handsome.”

You thought for a moment, of his brown hair that had been swept back and so carelessly skewed about earlier in the morning. The way his freckles scattered lightly across his nose like a constellation, you’d only known this from when he’d pulled you in so closely the night before. He wore his signet ring proudly, this amongst what looked like another ring with a crest on it.

“Yes, I suppose he is quite handsome. Though, if I’ve learned anything, it is that looks count for almost nothing when you’re forced to spend everyday with a person.”

The quiet clattering of silverware sounded throughout the large room, beside you sat Prince Tom. Down the table were the two older princes, assuming the youngest, Prince Patrick, was still too young. At the head of the table was King Dominic, at his right was Queen Nicola. Occupying the rest of the table was an assortment of dukes and duchesses, earls and ladies.

It had been too late to join everyone for dinner the night before, so tonight was the first time you’d been in everyone’s company. The room was large, grand even, gold trim and deep royal red walls filled with paintings dating back centuries. Candles burned while you ate, attempting to steal a glance at the Prince while he spoke with his brother Harry.

It had taken you weeks studying the British monarchy to completely grasp their political and traditional protocol. You had to learn who to curtsy to and who not to, and then in what order, how to determine the sovereign and whether or not to address someone with a title or not to.

“Tell us, Y/N, how are you finding England?” The Queen chimed, staring at you from her seat across the table.

“Well, ma’am—I haven’t seen much of it, I do hope to see more. It is far different from France, though.”

A quiet murmur spread across the table, “I’ve always found the French quite curious,” a duchess, whom you could not recall the name of, said lowly.

“Curiously dreadful,” Tom laughed to himself in a whisper you were sure only you could hear.

“I’m sorry?” You turned towards him, the sound of your cutlery against the plate louder than you’d liked. “I thought you said something, sir.”

The King looked up at you, the scornful way in which you looked at Tom, seething at his teasing words. You felt the heat in your face spread when you noticed an almost surprised look from a majority of the long and stretching table.

The rest of dinner you kept quiet, avoiding the looks from the prince at your side. He seemed quite bothered, you put your head down and braced yourself once the King stood. Once the King finished his meal, everyone else was finished as well. He stood soundly, the paleness of his skin off-putting, the deep purple crescents underneath his eyes prominent in the candlelight.

You stood with everyone else, retiring to your chambers in a fleeting moment once it was appropriate to get away. The long, narrow halls were ages older than you, the artwork clearly showing that. You recognized past monarchs, the kings and queens of the years earlier. The twists and turns reminded you of a labyrinth, easy to get lost in.

Once you reached the double doors to your chambers, you pulled at them quickly, shutting them behind you soundly and sinking against the wall. The room was still filled with burning candles, the servant at your vanity looking at you curiously.

She curtsied quickly, motioning you off of the floor in a maternal way. You said nothing, letting her help you slip out of the evening gown and undo the tight lacing of your corset. You breathed deeply as she slipped the white nightgown over your head and took down the silver pins from your hair.

“Are you alright, miss?” She asked, the look on her face a bit concerned.

“Yes, just tired,” you excused. “I can put myself to sleep, thank you.”

“Are you sure, miss? I really do not mind,” she trailed off as you waved her away laughing stiffly.

“I am sure, thank you, Anne.”

You stared at yourself in the mirror, brushing through your hair as you sat. Anne had long left, the doors shut tightly and the guards posted at them for the night, however, you turned quickly at the sound of them creeping open.

“How thick in the head must you be?”

Prince Thomas.

“You should not be in here,” you warned. “It’s bad enough to be caught alone in the daytime without a chaperone, but at night—in my bedroom!” Your tone was sharp, your arms wrapping around yourself. His eyes scanned your bare ankles, the curve of your legs underneath the thin material.

“You need not be concerned about your virtue, not after what you decided to pull at dinner tonight, before mother and father! I mean seriously, it’s like you enjoy humiliating yourself in front of the whole family!”

His cheeks were flushed in anger, his eyes fixed on you. You hair was undone, your eyes stuck on him. The silence was deafening, the space between the both of you closing when you stood up and marched over to him.

“I have been here a day. A day! And you cannot allow me the luxury of my own chambers, parading in here like you were not the one who provoked me!” You rammed a finger into his chest, gaze not faltering as you looked up at him.

“I told mother, I told father. You are nothing but a child, a little girl with no clue what she’s getting herself into,” you flinched at his voice.

“I will be your wife—”

“You will be the Queen of England!” He shouted, “the way you acted tonight was not that of a queen, but an eighteen year old girl in way over her head.”

He grabbed the hand that had jabbed into his chest, skewing it to the side. “Do not forget yourself, Y/N. I can promise you this, if you cannot at least act like you have any idea what you’re doing, this engagement is off. I will not tarnish the name of my country, nor title or reputation for a French princess that I had no desire to wed in the first place.”

taglist- @justapurrcat @witchyartemis @keithseabrook27 @clara-licht @dummiesshort @username2002 @imaginationisgrowth @nova-sup3r @jeyramarie @the-avengers-assembling @veryholland

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #prince!tom #prince!tom x reader #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #tom holland

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gimme-mor · 3 years

Text

BETWEEN THE LINES: NIGHT COURT ELAIN & SPRING COURT FEYRE

*DISCLAIMER*

This is a really long post and based on my interpretation of the text.

This is strictly an analysis of Elain as a character because, in my opinion, there isn’t a lot of talk about Elain outside of ships and conversations about her character arc typically revolve around to whom she is paired, especially if that person is Azriel. She is her own character and gets the short end of the stick in the fandom because everyone is more concerned about who she’s shipped with rather than her as a character.

Also, anyone who is rude/condescending will automatically be blocked.

In ACOSF, SJM went out of her way on two occasions to highlight Elain not looking good in black. While it may be minor or insignificant to some, I think those instances were meant to show something about Elain specifically and what she may be going through in the Night Court. Elain has been a passive character for the most part, contributing to things in her own way earlier in the series. But after she was taken by the Cauldron, her safety has become everyone’s main concern and the other characters have slowly excluded her from courtly matters. In ACOWAR, this was understandable because she was traumatized and not fully present. However, as of ACOSF, Elain was still excluded from courtly matters with the other characters heavily relying upon Nesta, who made her reservations known, because they were on a time constraint and couldn’t afford to wait for Elain to reacquaint herself with her powers.

The fact that the other characters use the kidnapping situation to excuse their current actions toward Elain is eerily similar to the way Tamlin and Lucien used the Under the Mountain events to excuse Tamlin’s actions toward Feyre in ACOMAF. And the characters use Elain and Feyre’s safety to justify why neither of them should be involved. In my opinion, Elain in the Night Court resembles Feyre in the Spring Court because not only do they experience similar things, but both of them are (or were in Feyre’s case) in places that stunt their growth. Even though Night Court Elain isn’t exposed to all of the things that Spring Court Feyre was exposed to, the similarities in their experiences (and how those similarities might potentially impact Elain similarly to the way they impacted Feyre) shouldn’t be overlooked.

Being monitored

Feyre

I was too watched－too monitored and judged. Why should the bride of the High Lord learn to fight if peace had returned? That had been Ianthe’s reasoning when I’d made the mistake of mentioning it at dinner. Tamlin, to his credit, had seen both sides: I’d learn to protect myself...but the rumors would spread. (ACOMAF)

“Tamlin－Tamlin, I can’t...I can’t live my life with guards around me day and night. I can’t live with that...suffocation. Just let me help you－let me work with you.” (. . .) “I’m drowning,” I managed to say. “I am drowning. And the more you do this, the more guards...You might as well be shoving my head under the water.” (ACOMAF)

Elain

Nesta said, “The Trove. And what happened the last time I scried.” Feyre said, “We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.” “Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said. “Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation. He’d gone with Feyre into the heart of Hybern’s camp to save Elain－he knew the risk. “We won’t make the same mistake twice.” She believed him. “All right.” (ACOSF)

Trying to fit in

Feyre

I hated the bright dresses that had become my daily uniform, but didn’t have the heart to tell Tamlin－not when he’d bought so many, not when he looked so happy to see me wear them. Not when his words weren’t far from the truth. The day I put on my pants and tunics, the day I strapped weapons to myself like fine jewelry, it would send a message far and clear across the lands. So I wore the gowns, and let Alis arrange my hair－if only so it would buy these people a measure of peace and comfort. (ACOMAF)

I sometimes debated asking her to pray for me as well. To pray that I’d one day learn to love the dresses, and the parties, and my role as a blushing, pretty bride. (ACOMAF)

Elain

And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court－and would do whatever she needed. (ACOSF)

So Elain had let her golden-brown hair down tonight, and pinned it back with twin combs of pearl. He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court...It sucked the life from her. (ACOSF)

Pretending everything’s all right

Feyre

“Fine,” I breathed. I made myself look him in the eye, made myself smile. (ACOMAF)

Elain

“And you?” I made myself say. “Are you－all right?” Elain looked over a shoulder at me as we entered the foyer, then turned left－to the dining room. In the sitting room across the way, all conversation halted at the smell of food. “Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face. I’d seen those smiles before. On my own damn face. (ACOFAS)

Clothes not looking right on them

Feyre

I really, truly hated my wedding gown. It was a monstrosity of tulle and chiffon and gossamer, so unlike the loose gowns I usually wore: the bodice fitted, the neckline curved to plump my breasts, and the skirts...The skirts were a sparkling tent, practically floating in the balmy spring air (. . .) I might have dealt with it all if it weren’t for the puffy capped sleeves, so big I could almost see them glinting from the periphery of my vision. My hair had been curled, half up, half down, entwined with pearls and jewels and the Cauldron knew what, and it had taken all my self-control to keep from cringing at the mirror before descending the sweeping stairs into the main hall. (ACOMAF)

I again surveyed the room, my wedding gown hissing on the warm marble floors. I peered down at myself. You look ridiculous. (ACOMAF)

Elain

Elain in black was ridiculous. Yes, she was beautiful, but the color of her long-sleeved, modest gown leeched the brightness from her face. It wore her, rather than the other way around. (ACOSF)

Looking good in clothes that suit them and that fact being pointed out

Feyre

My high-waisted peach pants were loose and billowing, gathered at the ankles with velvet cuffs of bright gold. The long sleeves of the matching top were made of gossamer, also gathered at the wrists, and the top itself hung just to my navel, revealing a sliver of skin as I walked. Comfortable, easy to move in－to run. Feminine. Exotic. (ACOMAF)

But those claws now dug in－and my entire body, my heart, my lungs, my blood yielded to his grip, utterly at his command as he said, The fashion of the Night Court suits you. (ACOMAF)

Elain

Gone was the ill-suited black dress from the ball, replaced by a gown of amethyst velvet, her hair half-up and curling down to her waist. She glowed with good health. (ACOSF)

People not wanting them to be involved in things

Feyre

“I want to go.” “No.” I crossed my arms, tucking my tattooed hand under my right bicep, and spread my feet slightly further apart on the dirt floor of the stables. “It’s been three months. Nothing’s happened, and the village isn’t even five miles－” “No.” (ACOMAF)

“I could use my powers against Hybern.” “That’s out of the question,” Tamlin said, “especially as there will be no war against Hybern.” “Rhys says war is inevitable, and we’ll be hit hard.” Lucien said drily, “And Rhys knows everything?” “No－but...He was concerned. He thinks I can make a difference in any upcoming conflict.” Tamlin flexed his fingers－keeping those claws contained. “You have no training in battle or weaponry. And even if I started training you today, it’d be years before you could hold your own on an immortal battlefield.” He took a tight breath. “So despite what he thinks you might be able to do, Feyre, I’m not going to have you anywhere near a battlefield. Especially if it means revealing whatever powers you have to our enemies. You’d be fighting Hybern at your front, and have foes with friendly faces at your back.” “I don’t care－” “I care,” Tamlin snarled. Lucien whooshed out a breath. “I care if you die, if you’re hurt, if you will be in danger every moment for the rest of our lives. So there will be no training, and we’re going to keep this between us.” (ACOMAF)

Elain

“Nesta’s spine straightened. No one spoke, but their attention lingered on her like a film on her skin. ‘You will not go looking for it.’” (ACOSF)

“Then go off on adventures,” Nesta said. “Go drink and fuck strangers. But stay away from the Cauldron.” (. . .) “Keep out of this,” she hissed at her youngest sister. “I have no doubt you put these thoughts in her head, probably encouraging her to throw herself into harm’s way－” (ACOSF)

Amren said, “We do not have the time to wait for Nesta to decide. I say we approach Elain tomorrow. Better to have both of them working on it.” Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.” “But Nesta should?” Cassian growled. Everyone stared at him. He swallowed, offering an apologetic glance to Az, who shrugged it off. Amren drained her wine and said to Cassian, “Nesta has a week. One more week to find the Trove with her own methods. Then we seek out other routes.” She threw a nod toward Azriel. “Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.” (ACOSF)

“I think Eris is our ally, and will expect to dance with a lady of this court at the ball no matter what. I won’t let Feyre within five feet of him, Mor might kill him, and Amren is more likely to scare him off than win him over, so you and Elain are the only options.” “Elain doesn’t go near him,” Feyre said. (ACOSF)

Their safety being brought up when they want to be involved

Feyre

“Please. The recovery efforts are so slow. I could hunt for the villagers, get them food－” “It’s not safe,” Tamlin said, again nudging his stallion into a walk. The horse’s coat shone like a dark mirror, even in the shade of the stables. “Especially not for you.” He’d said that every time we had this argument; every time I begged him to let me go to the nearby village of High Fae to help rebuild what Amarantha had burned years ago (. . .) “People want to come back, they want a place to live－” “Those same people see you as a blessing－a marker of stability. If something happened to you…” (. . .)Tamlin said softly, “I can’t do what I need to if I’m worrying about whether you’re safe.” (ACOMAF)

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he murmured. “It’s fine,” I breathed. “I understand.” Not a lie, but not quite the truth. His fingers grazed lower, circling my belly button. “You are－you’re everything to me,” he said thickly. “I need...I need you to be all right. To know they can’t get to you－can’t hurt you anymore.” (ACOMAF)

“Tamlin got what I didn’t,” Lucien said softly, his breathing ragged. “We all heard your neck break. But you got to come back. And I doubt that he will ever forget that sound, either. And he will do everything in his power to protect you from that danger again, even if it means keeping secrets, even if it means sticking to rules you don’t like. In this, he will not bend. So don’t ask him to－not yet.” (ACOMAF)

“Did he let you take me today,” I said hoarsely, “so that I’d stop asking to help rebuild?” “No. I decided to take you myself. For that exact reason. They don’t want or need your help. Your presence is a distraction and a reminder of what they went through.” (. . .) “I know you wanted to help,” Lucien offered. “I’m sorry.” So was I. (ACOMAF)

Elain

“The last time we involved ourselves with the Cauldron, it abducted you,” Nesta countered, fighting her shaking. (ACOSF)

“Like calls to like,” Amren countered. “You were Made by the Cauldron. You may track other objects Made by it as well, as Briallyn can. And because you are Made by it, you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” A glance to Elain. “Either of you.” Nesta swallowed. “I can’t.” But to let Elain involve herself, jeopardize her safety－ (ACOSF)

Nesta’s pulse pounded throughout her body. “Do you not remember the war? What we encountered? Do you not remember the Cauldron kidnapping you, bringing you into the heart of Hybern’s camp?” “I do,” Elain said coldly. (ACOSF)

If it was between her and Elain, there was no choice at all. She would always go first if it meant keeping Elain from harm. Even if she’d just hurt her sister more than she could stomach. (ACOSF)

Pushing back against what others want

Feyre

He hissed, “You have no idea how hard it is for him to even let you off the estate grounds. He’s under more pressure than you realize.” “I know exactly how much pressure he endures. And I didn’t realize I’d become a prisoner.” “You’re not－” He clenched his jaw. “That’s not how it is and you know it.” “He didn’t have any trouble letting me hunt and wander on my own when I was a mere human. When the borders were far less safe.” “He didn’t care for you the way he does now. And after what happened Under the Mountain…” The words clanged in my head, along my too-tense muscles. “He’s terrified. Terrified of seeing you in his enemies’ hands. And they know it, too－they know all they have to do to own him would be to get ahold of you.” “You think I don’t know that? But does he honestly expect me to spend the rest of my life in that manor, overseeing servants and wearing pretty clothes?” (ACOMAF)

Elain

Cassian shifted in his seat. “So we track down the Dread Trove－how?” Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.” Nesta’s head went silent as Elain’s words finished sounding in the room. Feyre had twisted in her seat, face white with alarm. Nesta shot to her feet. “No.” Elain remained in the doorway, her face pale but her expression harder than Nesta had ever seen it. “You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta.” (ACOSF)

“It nearly killed me. It trapped me like a bird in a cage.” Elain said, “Then I will find it. I might require some time to...reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” “Absolutely not,” Nesta spat, fingers curling at her sides. “Absolutely not.” “Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.” (ACOSF)

Being used as pawns against others

Feyre

“We need you to tell us everything,” Tamlin said. “The layout of the Night Court, who you saw, what weapons and powers they bore, what Rhys did, who he spoke to, any and every detail you can recall.” “I didn’t realize I was a spy.” Lucien shifted in his seat, but Tamlin said, “As much as I hate your bargain, you’ve been granted access into the Night Court. Outsiders rarely get to go in－and if they do, they rarely come out in one piece. And if they can function, their memories are usually...scrambled. Whatever Rhysand is hiding in there, he doesn’t want us knowing about it.” (ACOMAF)

Elain

Rhys angled his head at the not-quite question. “I trust in the fact that we currently have possession of the one thing he wants above all else. And as long as that remains, he’ll try to stay on our good side. But if that changes...His talent was wasted in the Spring Court. There was a reason he had that fox mask, you know.” His mouth tugged to the side. “If he got Elain away, back to Spring or wherever...do you believe, deep down, that he wouldn’t sell what he knows? Either for gain, or to ensure she stays safe?” “You let him hear everything tonight, though.” (. . .) I considered his question: Did I trust Lucien? “I don’t know, either,” I admitted, and sighed. “I don’t like that Elain is a pawn in this.” “I know. It’s never easy.” (ACOWAR)

Cassian glowered at Amren. “It’s not right to wield Elain as a threat to manipulate Nesta into scrying.” “There are harsher ways to convince Nesta, boy.” (ACOSF)

Although Elain and Feyre are surrounded by two different groups of people with varying levels of care for their wellbeing, they’re treated similarly which is hard to overlook. In Elain’s situation, Nesta, Azriel, and Feyre take on the “Tamlin role” (either undermining Elain’s attempts to contribute to things or preventing Elain from helping altogether) while everyone else takes on the “Lucien role” (validating the concerns of others while also enabling their behaviors, which doesn’t support Elain’s desire to be involved).

#elain archeron #feyre archeron #gimme meta #gimme queues

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hillnerd · 3 years

Text

WAKING UP- CHAPTER 5

Rating M A03 ff.net [ Previous Chapter] [start at the beginning]

For thanks yous, chapter warnings and ‘what happened last chapter’ scroll to the end of this chapter :)

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CHAPTER 5 - QUEEN OF CLUBS

Ginny didn’t have a very large room, and it felt even smaller as Hermione tried to ready herself to go to a club, of all places. She wasn’t the club ‘type.’ She couldn’t say for sure, as she’d never been to one, but what little familiarity she had made it sound awful. Loud noises, skimpily dressed, dancing as if she hadn’t a care in the world seemed… exhausting. And pointless. And dangerous! Fleur, Angelina and Ginny were trying on a myriad of dresses and asking for the group's approval. While the wireless played raucous tunes and the other girls giggled, Hermione spent her time packing and repacking her beaded bag.

The extension charm was still firmly in place. She hadn’t figured out a way to keep things more organized within it, though, so the canned goods she’d placed there kept falling over. She wasn’t going to forget food again, that she knew. She hadn’t located a new tent yet, but she needed to prioritize that soon. She had just finished repacking some of her clothes when she heard Ginny ask, “What are you doing?”

Hermione snapped the bag shut, not knowing how to explain her preparations in any way that made her seem of sound mind.

“Just wasn’t sure what to wear…” It wasn’t a complete lie. She wasn’t sure what fit her anymore.

“Well, you can never go wrong with a little black dress,” said Ginny pointing to a thin-strapped sundress Hermione hadn’t had reason to wear in well over a year.

She nodded and went to a corner, turning her front away from them as she changed into the dress. As she wiggled her jeans out from under the dress she noticed the other girls showed no similar discretion, happily throwing dresses off in the middle of the room.

Hermione gave a speculative look in the mirror, tugging a bit at the neckline of her sundress. It fit differently than before, bagging around her waist and chest in an unflattering way, and the straps would not stay in place.

“I can do alterations to dresses if anyone needs them,” said Fleur, grabbing a book from within her bag, discreetly catching Hermione’s eye. Arachne Salavarrieta’s Little Book of Sewing had a few good spells for altering clothing on the fly. All four of them looked over the text for just the right spells to take in, let out, and shorten dresses.

Ginny, still underage and unable to do magic, begged them “you’ve got to shorten my skirt once we’re there!”

“Why not have us do it now?” Angelina asked, propping up a magically enlarged hand mirror on the roll top desk.

“I have four older brothers downstairs,” Ginny said with a sour look.

“Why should that matter?”

“One of those gits will take the piss in front of Mum if I look remotely sexy. That is, if Mum doesn’t already notice all on her own. I don’t know! Either way, just help me with the hem at the club, please? I don’t want to be the only one there looking frumpy!”

“From-py?” Fleur asked.

“Unfashionable, old-fashioned, overly modest and drab,” Hermione provided, fairly certain the term had been liberally applied to herself over the years.

“You look far from from-py, but we will help with the skirt,” Fleur assured Ginny.

“And if any brother gives you shit at the club, we’ll hex them for good measure too,” Angelina added, bringing out a pair of curling tongs and prompting Ginny to sit in front of her.

Hermione pulled at her dress some more, not sure how much to alter it, and not sure if she wanted to bother. A pernicious guilt gnawed at her as she pulled the dress taut to her body. She should be doing something that mattered, not fretting over a dress. She should be in Australia. She hadn’t earned a rest, let alone a ‘fun time out.’ She’d taken no steps forward. She’d not found her parents’ location, she’d not earned money, she’d not even checked to see if her old childhood home was still standing.

“Hermione, is everything alright?” Fleur quietly asked, coming to stand beside her at the long mirror.

Hermione forced a smile onto her face.

“Oh you know me… I’m never sure what to do with fashion and all that. I’m more at ease in a library.”

Fleur gave her a searching look she’d seen before at Shell Cottage. It was a look that sought truth behind idle chit chat. It brought a sisterly sort of comfort that Hermione had not thought Fleur capable of a year ago. She had found the French woman to be condescending and too effortlessly beautiful to warrant any attempt at friendship. The war had given her an appreciation for Fleur, though. They were something akin to friends now.

“I just…” Hermione said in a low voice only Fleur could hear as the wireless yowled another rock anthem. “This feels so silly when there’s so much to do.”

“We’ve earned a bit of silly, do you not think so?”

“You all might have…”

“Hermione,” she said, putting a tentative hand around her shoulder. “You ‘ave done more than most anyone.”

“Since The Battle I’ve done nothing! Everyone is helping rebuild and all I’ve done is sleep! And my parents are still in Australia, and I’ve…I’ve done nothing to get them back.”

“Ron told us of your parents and the memories… Will you be needing any help?”

“No,” Hermione quickly insisted. “No. I just need to make a plan and get them back here. Once I have a plan then it will all be alright.”

“You are meaning to bring them back here in England… To the home you lived in before?”

Hermione nodded, and saw a look of concern wrinkle Fleur’s otherwise flawless brow.

“Hermione… Have you been to your home since the war ended?”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m planning on checking on it soon.”

“This is why I asked. You can not do that alone. Many Muggleborn homes were cursed after the war. Some are no longer standing,” said Fleur, her voice ringing with intensity despite the lyric tone.

Hermione was aware that many a Muggleborn home had been razed to the ground, but refused to believe the same could have happened to her childhood home.

“Even the Burrow needed much curse breaking,” she continued. “We do not know each other well, but I am happy to help you with this.”

“Oh you don’t have to!” Hermione said with a shake of her head.

“Oh poppyrot!” Fleur said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Hermione let out a long breath, her gratitude forcing her to not correct Fleur to the word ‘poppycock.’ “It is my pleasure!”

“You two alright?” asked Ginny giving the two a sidelong look as Angelina continued to curl her hair.

“We are,” Fleur said, looking to Hermione who confirmed this with a head nod. “Just helping out with fashion. It is a ritual we women do. The girls gather and dress and help one another to look more beautiful, while the men do nothing.”

“Maybe they shower,” Angelina added with a laugh, “but probably not. They never put in half the effort we do!”

“You see? It is the way of it,” Fleur said, giving Hermione a small squeeze and a meaningful look. “I can help whenever you like.”

“Thank you, Fleur…” she said with equal import. When the other girls looked at her with curiosity she continued, “I don’t have any of my usual things like makeup or hair products.”

“I have a ton of stuff in my bag,” Angelina offered.

“As do I. We girls help one another,” Fleur said, grabbing a comb and some bottles of French products Hermione didn’t recognize. She continued with the faintest whisper, “You can send a message or Patronus to me when you are ready to enter your old home.”

Words failing her, Hermione put a hand on Fleur’s and gave it a small squeeze. Fleur said nothing, but the warm smile she sent in the mirror reassured her that the French woman completely understood.

After an hour of sewing alterations, primping, squealing, and many changes of clothes by each of the ladies, they decided they were almost ready enough to leave.

“Oh! Jewelry! I forgot about that,” Ginny moaned, looking through her small box of earrings.

Angelina and Fleur were eager to help her, but Hermione wasn’t sure she could take another debate about fashion. She was grateful for the silly hour she’d gotten to spend with them, though. Despite her hair still being a bit wild and curly, Hermione had to admit she liked how she looked in the mirror. The black sundress fit her perfectly now. She almost looked like she had a figure again. Between the dress and the makeup, and a bit of product from Angelina to keep her hair from frizzing, she looked almost pretty. She felt a touch of excitement flurry in her stomach at the thought of looking nice in front of Ron. It almost made her forget how nervous she was to be out of the safety of the Burrow. She gripped her beaded bag close to her side.

“I’m going to wait with the boys, if that’s alright.”

The girls waved her off as they held different earrings beside Ginny’s face.

As Hermione stepped into the hallways she immediately ran into a thin, though sturdy, body and let out a small exclamation of alarm. She quickly muffled her sound when she saw it was only Harry.

“Are you all ready to go then?” he asked, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Ginny behind the closing door.

“We’re almost all ready,” she said with a fond smile. “You know girls, it takes them forever.”

“You’re a girl too, according to Ron at least,” said Harry, giving her a wry grin. Harry was looking rather sharp in Muggle clothes that actually fit, and his hair was looking mysteriously untidy.

“Did you do something to your hair?”

“What?” he asked, putting a hand to the back of his hair and patting at it. “It doesn’t look bad, does it?”

“No,” she laughed, seeing the panic in his eyes. “Just not as wild as usual.”

“Yeah, well it took like four spells and I think they’re already wearing off.”

She studied his hair and could see one by one little hairs slowly moving into disarray, almost like someone had rubbed an invisible balloon against it.

“You’re trying to look extra nice for Ginny,” she teased. He frowned, but a blush began to form around his jaw. “Yeah, well, we’ve never gotten to properly go someplace together, have we? You did the same for Ron, right?”

He had her there.

“Speaking of, where is he?”

“Downstairs, I think,” he said, hand going to his hair again. “Is it looking bad again?”

“It’s looking more like it usually does, if that’s what you mean.” His face scrunched in disapproval. “Really, it looks fine. Your hair fits you best when you do nothing to it. You look perfectly nice.”

“You too,” he said with a glance at her, before heading towards the bathroom. “Ok, I’m going to try to spell this one more time.”

She knew it was a lost cause, but didn’t have the heart to tell him as he eagerly tried to preen.

As she reached the bottom steps of the stairs, she could hear the low rumble of men’s voices.

“They’re taking ages,” Charlie sighed. “I don’t see why it takes them so long.”

“Women wear more?” said George.

“Harry’s hair has taken almost as long,” Lee said with a snort.

Hermione looked around the corner and saw the men all sprawled around the room, shoes up on tables and couch arms in a way they’d never dare if Mrs Weasley were in the room.

While everyone lightheartedly bantered with one another, in the corner sat Ron. His brow was creased as he silently played chess with Lee. He looked haggard, and for the eleventh time that evening, Hermione wished they weren’t going out. She’d much rather spend the evening wrapped in Ron’s arms, as she had that afternoon.

Her nerves had frayed at the thought of sleeping beside him, worried he would catch her in a nightmare. Silencing spell in place, she had feigned grumpy tiredness when he asked her questions. There had been no need to worry, though. Cuddled up to him she fell asleep as surely as one did on sleeping draughts, and somehow her nightmares were kept entirely at bay. It was the best sleep she’d had in months. The only thing that could have improved it was waking up beside Ron. He’d been gone when she’d woken, with no one knowing where he was. He’d come back from the village looking worn out giving excuses of ‘getting supplies’ which didn’t hold up to real scrutiny, when she thought of the timeline he gave. Ron Weasley was up to something, she just didn’t know what.

As if her thoughts drew him to her, Ron’s eyes rose and met hers.

The furrow in his brow smoothed, his scowling expression softened, and a boyish smile of his tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Who’s winning?” she asked, approaching the chess board.

“Ron was, but I think my luck’s about to change,” said Lee, a few of the men joining him in laughter and elbowing Ron, seeing his rather besotted look. Usually he’d turn beet red and curse at them, but his face remained mostly impassive as he met her eyes and smiled. The only sign of his discomfort was his ears going a tiny bit flush.

“Check mate,” said Ron, moving his bishop across the board, and rising from his seat.

“No it’s not, is it?” Lee asked, looking at the board. “Damn!”

Ron gave the lot a two fingered salute and led her from the living room to the kitchen, where his mother was doing some tidying and listening to the radio.

“I wasn’t sure about the dress,” she mumbled. Ron’s eyes traveled down her and she suppressed the urge to readjust her neckline, though she wasn’t sure in what direction.

“Well you look amazing in it,” he said, looking her in the eye and making her stomach do a tsukahara flip.

“Thank you,” she managed. A pleasurable rush of nerves ran up her spine. Despite looking very tired, he looked handsome. He was wearing an untucked dress shirt she’d not seen before, with the sleeves rolled up his arms in a way that made the nerves in her spine turn to jolts. Given the darker color scheme of it, she assumed it was a hand-me-down from Bill. She quickly realized all of him was looking rather polished, with the exception of his beat up boots. She wasn’t sure what to say to him. He was so sensitive about clothes, and the last thing she wanted was to cause additional stress on him, but she also knew he was a bit insecure and it might be nice to compliment his appearance.

“So how long until the rest of the girls are ready?” he asked.

Well there went that opportunity.

“Soon, I think. They just had to pick out earrings for Ginny,” she said looking up into face. His eyes looked so weary. “Are you doing well?”

“Course,” he grunted, immediately turning from her. “Mum, do you need help with that?”

Mrs Weasley turned from the dishes and assured him she didn’t. Despite the assurance, he started putting dishes in the cabinets. He didn’t spare her another look, not when the rest of the girls came down the stairs some ten minutes later, and not when they gathered on the edge of the property.

“Before we go,” George announced, beginning to hand each of them a playing card, “here is a Muggle I.D. for each of you.”

“Why do we need an I.D?” Ginny asked, inspecting the playing card in the waning light of the sunset.

“Because they check to see if you’re old enough to drink at clubs and such and can’t just put up an age line,” answered Bill.

“Why didn’t you transfigure these already?” asked Hermione, looking at her playing card, the Queen of Clubs.

“I’d have to know what Muggle I.D.s look like to do that. This just has a spell to register as an I.D. to Muggles. Pretty clever, if I do say so,” George said, smiling to them all as he finished handing out the cards. “Getting the dates right was tricky. Just make sure you say your birthday was in 79 or earlier. The card will match up with whatever date you say.”

“Where are we apparating to, George?” asked Angelina.

“My hotel room’ll do,” he answered.

Hermione felt Ron unexpectedly stiffen beside her.

“Everyone but Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Fleur knows where to go. So you all can pair up and side-along there. Here, Gin, come with me,” said George, waving Ginny over.

Ron made as if to grab Ginny back, but George had quickly disappeared with her. One by one they all disapparated, leaving her and a distracted Ron staring at the space George had just occupied.

Ron licked his dry lips and scrunched his brow in determination. “Right… Okay then, I guess we better go.”

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” she said, gently putting her hand in his. “We could just stay in, you and me.”

His shoulders slumped. “Merlin, I wish I could take you up on that.”

“Why don’t you?” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ve been dreading going out.”

“You too?” “I packed and repacked my bag, just in case,” she said, giving the beaded bag a small shake that made its contents give a crash. “Damn. That’s probably the books again. I really need to find a way to make things stay in place!”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he said with a fond look on his face. “But we should go. It’ll be good to get out, plus with G— nevermind.”

“Plus what?”

“Look, I really want to tell you, but I’m just not up for it all right now.” Her face must have given away how frustrating she found that. “I will, I swear I will! Just not tonight. Let’s just— let’s just pretend we’re okay and go out and try to enjoy ourselves.”

It went against every instinct in her body to agree to wait to know something, but she nodded her acquiescence. His large hand moved to her back and the tight feeling of being compressed overtook her as he Apparated them to George’s hotel room.

In moments they reached their destination and the feeling of her breath being stolen didn’t stop, for Ron’s fingers grazed her side as he took a pace back from her.

When they arrived they received a good amount of teasing for taking their time to arrive, heavily implying the two had been snogging. Neither teen corrected them. As everyone made small talk, Ron was completely silent and looked about the room with seeming purpose. He had shown immense concern about George right before they left, had that intense conversation with him earlier, and she had to admit George smelt like a bar when he arrived and looked like he might have been sleeping on the floor of one. She had no idea what Ron was looking for, except perhaps empty bottles. The room was sparse, and only a tray of food, and a small bag in the corner showing any signs someone had been living there.

No one seemed to notice his actions except George who fixed him with a glare when no one was looking. Ron looked far from sheepish, and instead stood tall and locked eyes with his brother.

“Let’s get going. It’s just a few streets over,” George announced to the room, looking away from Ron.

Nerves shook Hermione as they travelled down the grimy London street. It did not look much different from Tottenham Court Road. The last time she had been near this part of London they’d ducked into a grotty cafe and been cornered by a pair of Death Eaters.

At least then it had been a less obtrusive group, with only her, Ron and Harry. Now they were a large boisterous group with so many redheads they stood out like a flock of goldfinches. Most of them were loudly talking or laughing, and many a passerby smirked at the boisterous group. If someone wanted to target them, they’d be all too easy to spot. She gripped her beaded bag so harshly one of her nails chipped.

Thankfully George was quite correct about the distance being short. In minutes they arrived at a large dark building with music dimly pulsing through its walls and a line to get in.

A large barrel-chested man with the thickest neck Hermione had ever seen stood at the door. The eldest Weasleys along with Lee and Angelina were let through with barely a glance at their playing cards, but as soon as he spotted the younger members of the group the bouncer began to look like an agitated bulldog.

He eyed Ron and Hermione’s cards closely, but gave a much more scrutinizing look towards Ginny and Harry as they handed their playing cards to him. He held a small flashlight to the Jack of Spades and Queen of Spades, and even ran a fingernail along the edge.

“What’s your birthday?”

“1979!” Harry offered, before wincing at his volume. Ron let out a chuckle, while Ginny rolled her eyes. The man’s glare intensified. “Er… July 31st 1979, that is.”

“Hmm… And you?” growled the Bouncer, sourly looking to Ginny.

“Tonight’s my birthday, actually!” she said with a winning smile. Hermione nearly protested, but Ron gave a small shake of his head.

“Ah, happy birthday!” said the man nodding at the card before handing it back to her, looking much less ornery. “Let Teresa know about it, and they’ll do ya something special.”

“Your birthday, huh?” Harry asked Ginny as soon as they were through the door.

“Much easier to have a good time and get some free drinks that way, isn’t it?” she said, giving a conspiratorial grin he shared.

“But it’s not your birthday!” Hermione protested, irritation prickling down her neck.

“I’m not eighteen either,” Ginny breezily pointed out.

“Well you’re lucky the card was able to adapt to that when you hadn’t said an actual date,” Hermione persisted. She clutched her beaded bag closer to her chest. “We don’t want to stand out.”

“Why not? It’s a Muggle club. It should be fun.”

“Well, it might be a Muggle club, but that doesn’t mean it’s completely safe.”

“You worry too much,” she said in an infuriatingly calm and understanding voice.

“No! We have to make sure we stay low profile and don’t say anything wrong, because all it takes is one wrong word and then everything falls apart!”

Harry looked to the ground, his eyebrows knitting together. He had to be thinking of the Taboo and the Snatchers as well.

“It’s just a bit of fun, Hermione. We’ll be okay,” said Ginny with a smile, looking around to spot the rest of their group, taking Harry by the hand towards a corner table. “Ah there they are!”

Hermione had never felt more like shaking her friend. Didn’t she understand how dire things were? They’d met Death Eaters at a Muggle cafe in London last August, and Fenrir and those Snatchers in the woods. All it took was one small mistake and then hell would rain down on them; they could end up beaten or cursed or stabbed in the chest. “Hermione…” she heard Ron’s voice quiet and low in her ear. “There isn’t a Taboo anymore…”

“You don’t know that!” she almost shouted at him, painfully gripping her beaded bag.

One of his large hands gently started unwinding her fingers from the bag, before taking it from her and putting it in his jacket pocket. He started massaging her fingers. Under the pink and orange lights she could just make out the imprint the bag had left on her hands.

“I can feel the Taboo’s broken, and I bet you can too if you concentrate on it,” he said, continuing to work her hands until they became limp in his. “But if you want to leave and go back to the Burrow, we can right now.”

His quiet earnest words brought her eyes up to his. He saw right through her. He didn’t give her empty platitudes. He gave her a common sense answer to why things would be different, and an out if she was uncomfortable. She felt the overwhelming need to kiss him, and despite the crowd she decided to indulge herself. She stood on her tiptoes, and he took her lead leaning down to brush his lips against hers, hands still holding hers. How had they had so many years together without kissing?

For years she’d had to sit near him, with careful scrutinization over every action and inch between them. Was sitting too close to her friend? Would her leg pressing to his be too much? Would he notice how her eyes were fixated on his mouth a good three minutes as he grinned and told her about the mad thing he’d seen earlier that day? Did his hand around her shoulder linger longer than a friend’s hand would? When he’d tiredly leaned his head into her, had it meant something to him?

Now she could kiss him whenever she liked, and melt into his strong form, and let her hands be caressed, and get the anticipation of more ring through her body, and know it might be fulfilled later. The only thing she struggled to hold back was blurting out how very much she loved everything about him.

“Alright?” he asked as their lips parted.

She nodded, biting her bottom lip to keep herself from saying ‘I love you and actually yes I’d like to go home, but only because I want to snog you until both of us can barely breathe.’

“Ready to have ‘a bit of fun?’”

“I think I can manage,” she said with a smile. As long as he was by her side something akin to enjoyment of the evening could happen.

They went to a back table that didn’t nearly have enough seating for them all. This didn’t seem to matter as half of them strategically placed their jackets and purses so strangers would know it was occupied, while the others went to the bar to get drinks for everyone. Their table butted nearly up to the bar, and Ron perched on one of its stools.

“Do you want something to drink?” Hermione asked, looking at a menu.

He shook his head. “Someone needs to stay sober. Might as well be me.” He took the menu from her and eagerly pointed to it. “But I could do with these fried cheese things!”

She got in line, ready to order and pay when George stepped in. “Put your cash away. You’re not buying a thing, tonight! We’re here to celebrate you three, after all!”

Grateful not to have to spend the meager amount of cash she had, she put in her order for Ron’s food, and her wine. She’d never drunk much in her life, but she experienced the occasional wine with her parents.

She had worried the evening would be tedious, but seeing everyone looking giddy, toasting one another, and even dancing made her rethink the evening.

Ron had kept a close eye on George, but his brother was looking at ease and jubilant surrounded by family and friends. Hermione enjoyed the warming tang of red wine as they chatted away and seemed more relaxed than they’d been in years. The wine soothed her nerves as well.

“Was your skirt that short when we left?” George asked Ginny after she did a twirl to the music that accidentally flashed a cheek of her knickers.

“Yes it was,” she coolly answered. “And even if it wasn’t, there’s nothing you’re going to do about it, is there?”

Harry, already looking sloshed, looked down at Ginny’s legs, his mouth slightly open.

Ron gave a chuckle before flicking his friend’s ear.

“Righ’, sorry,” Harry said with a nod. Despite all the spells he’d done on his hair, it had reverted to its normal disheveled state.

“Let’s dance!” Ginny said, grabbing Harry’s hand. If it weren’t for the few rounds of shots, Hermione didn’t think they’d be able to get him on to the dance floor, but in his current state he happily followed his girlfriend to the bright lights and thumping music. This seemed an adorable prospect until they actually saw him dance.

“Oh shit… Someone needs to hit him with a stunner or something,” Ron laughed, as Hermione leaned back into him.

Harry had no sense of rhythm at all, and his stiff-armed movements made many people wince. Ginny didn’t seem to care, and was happily dancing beside him. Her effervescence seemed to drown out Harry’s sad attempts at movement.

Ron guffawed, and shook his head in amusement. Seated on a bar stool, he was only a half a foot taller than Hermione, which made for much more convenient kisses with no tiptoes needed. She had finished her second glass of wine and had a hot pleasant sensation buzzing through her. She put her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the vibration of his deep laugh and the music thrumming.

“Hmm… Y’should dance with me,” she murmured, though she made no move towards the dance floor. Instead she rubbed her hands down his legs that were on either side of her. The lights on the dancefloor shifted to green for a moment, and the cozy peace felt strangled. She glanced up to Ron, and thought of the one thing that really made her feel nothing but warmth. “You should snog me.”

He chuckled a bit, and she felt the back of his fingers graze her cheek.

“Dance or snog— Whichever you want,” he replied in her ear. “Though it seems you’re going a bit legless for dancing.”

“I am not!” she protested, pushing herself off of him and nearly stumbling. She stood very tall and made firm eye contact. “I am far from inebriated and do not like the implication that I am inebredated!”

“You mean inebriated?”

“That’s what I just said!” she said, grabbing his hand. “C’mon, let’s dance!”

He gave a shake of his head, but followed her onto the dance floor, where most of their group were dancing. Despite the yellow and orange lights, they were a vibrant group that stood out. Hermione couldn’t think why she’d been worried about it, though! And Ron was actually a very good dancer. She’d discovered this at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and was happy nothing had changed. He had a grand sense of rhythm and the way he held her close and moved about with her made her feel like one of those ladies from an old musical. Roger Gingers? No, that wasn’t it…

“You make me feel like a lady!” she shouted over the music. “I mean, a lady from a musical that dances and such! Y’know? Like with Astaire and all those old ones in the movies?”

Ron gave a nod, and she nodded along happy he knew the reference. Yes! He and she were meant for one another. He knew what she meant when she said things. Oh no, that couldn’t be right. Fred Astaire was a Muggle! There was no way he knew that reference!

“Wait! You don’t know who Astaire is!”

“Nope,” he replied, an amused grin making his dimple appear.

“Then why did you nod along?”

“You’re supposed to smile and nod at drunk people and irate girlfriends— and you’re the best of both!”

She laughed as he spun her around. She could do this forever! Just spin and spin, his hands on her, the bright lights bringing out odd colors in his hair, his warm smile, the invigorating feeling of just being alive...

“You dance as well as you snog!” she yelled, right as the song stopped, making many on the dance floor snigger, but she didn’t care. It was true. And he was hers, not anyone else's, and she got to snog him whenever she wanted. “Let’s get another drink!”

She bounded to the bar, and added another wine to the tab George had started.

“I think you might’ve had enough,” said Ron, sidling up beside her.

“Then you drink it!” she said, holding up the wine before taking a sip. He gently took the wine glass from her, and put it on the bar.

“Ever since I drank that poisoned mead, I’m not much for drinks from people I don’t know.”

“I just drank from it, though, so you know it’s safe,” she said, holding her hair up and away from her too hot neck.

“And I need to be sober so someone can get us all home at the end of the evening.”

That was a very good point. “You should snog me in the club’s bathroom,” she countered.

“That is very very tempting,” he said leaning in and giving her a peck on the nose. “When you aren’t sloshing about I might take you up on that.”

“M’not!” she said, grabbing her wine glass.

“Another round?” George asked, holding out a tray of shots. “For the trio! And the birthday girl!”

“Oh yes, let’s drink to my birthday!” Ginny crowed, grabbing what was at least her shot glass. There was a quick clearing of a throat from behind her from Bill. “Oh come oooon! Can’t I have some fun?”

“You can have plenty of fun. Just might want to be able to remember it tomorrow.”

“Don’t be mummish!” she replied, downing her drink.

Harry tittered at this, and she put a hand over his shot glass before he could get it to his lips. “You might want to hold back.”

“Mummish,” Harry laughed, with a shake of his shaggy head.

“How much has he had?” Charlie asked.

“A couple of shots and a beer,” said Lee with a shake of his head. “Complete and utter lightweight.”

“I want another shot,” Harry protested.

“Sorry, sloppy, leave this to the professionals,” George said, downing it before Harry could stop him. Hermione caught a grim look pass between Ron and Bill, but dismissed it as a good song came on and the other girls dragged them all onto the dance floor.

The party continued until Ron insisted they take a water break. Hermione slide into the booth next to him, wobbling only slightly, yet she gladly snuggled into him.

There was a gauzy blur to everything, with only the center of her vision having much clarity. It was nice. Her blurred cameo-vision settled on Ron. He was very handsome. And tall!

She told him so.

“Thanks,” he said, not seeming to take her seriously.

“I mean it, though! You’re almost pretty,” she said with a firm nod. “I’ve always thought so. You have the bluest eyes… They’re so… Blue! And I love your hands. They feel nice too.”

“Uh huh…” he said with a smile. “I think we best get you home soon… Here, have some water.”

“I don’t want water, I want more wine,” she said, taking the water and drinking it. “But I do mean it. You’re very good looking. And you have a cute bum! I haven’t told you that, but I should. I should tell you these things! I mean to, but I wait too long, and then I can’t tell you. Like with your clothes tonight! You look extra dishy and I can’t tell you because I don’t want you to think I’m not nice about clothes to you, ya know?”

“Well in that case, thank you?” he said, pouring her some more water that she angrily sipped at.

He’d taken off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up again at one point. She trailed a finger along a brain-scar on his forearm. She liked that. There was something about it that made her squirm in a good way.

“I like your arms… But to my point!!” she said, sitting up straight and poking him in the chest. “There’so much I can’t tell you! I’m the best secret keeper in the world. It’s like… It’s like my words are Fidelius charmed! And I don’t know how to tell you the secret! I want to, of course, but if I did and you didn’t say you love me back then I’d be so upset, and so I don’t say anything!”

She closed her eyes and leaned into his chest.

“You make it hard to not say things when you’re so pretty and good. You’re so good, Ron Weasley. I want to… I want to bottle you up and marry you and be the only one to touch your bum.”

His chuckle pleasantly hummed through her. He braced her against him a bit then kissed her forehead.

“I want that too,” he said, almost so quietly it couldn’t be heard over the music. She felt him stir beneath her head and let out a huff. “What?”

She cracked open an eye to see Harry gormlessly staring at them.

“I’m so glad you didn’t die. You’re like… the most important people in my life and I love you both so much,” said Harry, pointing to somewhere a foot or so to the left of them.

“No more alcohol for you, Harry,” said Ron, making Hermione sit up.

“I mean it!” Harry belligerently stated.

“We love you too, Harry,” said Hermione, putting a hand on him. “You’re like a brother to me! If I had brothers. I don’t. But if I did, you’d be my little brother.”

“You’re like an older sister that I love like a sister. And we’re both not dead,” Harry said with a nod.

“Merlin’s balls. We’ve got to get out of here,” Ron muttered, grabbing a glass of water and thrusting it into Harry’s hand. “Chug that and try not to be such a melancholy arsewipe, yeah?”

“I can’t help it. I had a bad childhood until I met you and Hagrid…” Harry said, looking so sad Hermione wanted to cry.

“You did! Ron, he DID have a bad childhood!”

“Yep, I’m aware,” said Ron with a sigh getting up. “Harry, where’d you put your glasses and jacket?”

He gave a sad shrug. “I don’t have a family. I don’t even have glasses now.”

Hermione nodded. “He can’t SEE, Ron.”

“I’m legally blind.”

“He’s blind, Ron!”

“Oh my GOD! I’m going to find the glasses!” Ron exploded, a hand going to his hair. “I’m getting bloody tired of dealing with drunks, you know that?”

“But he’s blind, Ron.”

With a wild gesture of frustration he started looking around the various points in the bar Harry had been to. Harry murmured about a lot of sad things, and Hermione told him about Ron’s bum which made him snigger. She leaned her head against the back of the booth, closing her eyes for just a moment.

She heard Charlie, Bill and Fleur bowed out for the evening, citing business they had to do the next day. Bill pulled Ron aside for a moment. She could just make out the low voiced words of ‘George,’ ‘rest’ and ‘bail’ beside her. She cracked open an eye and saw them both glancing at George, who was still bouncing on the dance floor with Lee and Angelina. Hermione listened to hear more, but the thrum of music drowned them out.

Hermione woke up an indeterminate amount of time later lying in their booth, head curled up on a conjured pillow and Ron’s large jacket draped over her.

She blearily rose and blinked to see Harry finish a shot beside her.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be drinking anymore,” she managed to rasp even though her tongue stuck to the top of her mouth. She smacked her lips and looked for some water. The nearest pitcher seemed miles away even though it was a mere few feet.

“Y’were sleeping in the booth and there’s was noone to stop me,” said Harry with a triumphant smile that morphed into an unpleasant low belch.

“How long have I been asleep?” Her head was aching. She should have drunk more water.

“Mmm… An hour or so?”

“Where’s Ron?”

“He tucked you in,” Harry answered. She warmed at the thought of giant Ron hunching over to tenderly make her comfortable.

Harry put his chin on his hand and stared at her. “He fancies you.”

“Well I quite fancy him as well.”

“You fancy him,” he said with a sloppy dismissive hand, “but not like he does you. He’s all…” A series of soft pats rained down on her head. “And you’re all…” He pointed a finger at her face, nearly poking her in the eye. “Ya know?”

“Oh well that makes sense,” she humored him. “Where are your glasses? Didn’t Ron go to fetch them ages ago?”

“Search me…” he said, putting his head on the table before slurring. “I need a nap…”

Ginny, Lee and Angelina came panting off the dancefloor.

“Where’s George?” asked Angelina, gulping down some water and making a loud noise of satisfaction when she’d finished.

“Wasn’t he with you?”

No one knew where George or Ron were. They were about to start searching when there was the sound of a mic turning on, and the DJ announced, “and now one of our guests wants to make an announcement.”

There was a horrid feedback noise and a scuffle, but then a familiar voice began to ring through the crowd.

“Hello everyone!” said George into the mic.

“Oh God, who let him have a microphone?” said Angelina, shaking her head.

“I’m George and I’m here to celebrate my little sister’s birthday! So everyone, say cheers to her!”

Many of the crowd raised their glasses and Ginny was happy to wave to them and give a small bow. Hermione spotted that she was wearing Harry’s glasses on top of her head. She turned to point this out to Harry but he was letting out a series of small snores.

“Also we’re here to celebrate my brother Ronnie, and his two best friends. I can’t tell you what they did, but they are being honored for their services and it’s pretty impressive shit, so cheers to them!” The crowd cheered again. “That’s right. He’s very impressive. Didn’t think he would be, but here we are! Didn’t think he’d make it out of a war alive, but he did. Not a fucking scratch on him, ‘cept some missing fingernails.”

Hermione looked for Ron, and found him standing to the side of the DJ booth. He looked like he was saying something, and George’s face went dark and surly. “No, I don’t feel like going home.”

“Get off the mic!” someone from the crowd hollered, and few people let out a resounding ‘woo’ in agreement.

“Yes, thank you for your support!” George said with a wave. “What was I talking about? Oh yes! The war! My other brothers all made it ok, but I lost an ear, and then my twin brother got fucking killed by a bloody wall. How stupid a way is that to go?”

The DJ tried to get George to hand over the mic, but he was belligerently holding it low and crowding the DJ out. Ron looked like he was saying something. He put a hand on George’s shoulder that was violently shrugged off, prompting Angelina and Lee to run over to intervene.

Hermione didn’t want to crowd them and was fairly certain she couldn’t get there fast enough to help anyways. Ginny had a hand to her mouth.

“None of you know how much we sacrificed to keep you all safe, you know that? On the run all the time, nearly dying every day, and you lot just went about your lives having no fucking clue. People died. My brother is DEAD! And you’re all having a bloody good time, but he’s dead and everything is fucking ruined and—”

The thick-necked bouncer moved in and started pointing a beefy hand in George’s face.

“George, don’t!” came Ron’s holler, just barely picked up by the mic.

Hermione heard a chorus of yells beside her as, in front of the entire Muggle club, George whipped out his wand and brandished it at the bouncer.

“Take another step and I’ll drop you,” he snarled.

Hermione gave a yell of her own as Ron put up his hands and stood in front of George’s sparking wand.

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

Chapter 5 Author’s Note-

Chapter 6 is already written and in the editing process.

I actually split Chapter 5 into two parts as it was epically long. So next chapter will be from Hermione's POV

oh, and it will have some smut

and angst

====================================================

Giant thank you to:

@abradystrix and @divagonzo for betaing and being so supportive and wonderful.

CHAPTER WARNINGS:

cursing, depresssed/anxious thinking, talk about eating & weight gain/loss, evidence of PTSD, drinking and drunkeness, threats

Previously, in 'Waking Up'

Hermione is on edge about her parents and is having trouble with anxiety in general- also worried about Ron not saying 'I love you' yet

Ron was exhausted from tending to George the night before- he's running on fumes- and is devastated that Hermione doesn't seem to care for Harry joining the Aurors- He fills out paperwork and gets sick with anxiety

Needs a quill and sees Hermione needs money for Australia

Goes to the village to get a job- gets lost in dark memories

Comes home to everyone giving cheers to him and the trio for Order of Merlins and Auror offers

They're all gonna go out to celebrate

#fanfiction #hermione granger #ron weasley #romione #harry potter #waking up #My writing #post hogwarts #hp fanfic

62 notes · View notes

oneirataxiahiraeth · 3 years

Note

Hey darling, i was wondering if i can have a request with ron weasley x reader. They start 7th year, the first morning of class she is getting ready with the girls (Hermione and ginny are her roomates) and she realized she packed her 5th year skirt and not the new one, she wears it anyways but its a little too short like to the mid thigh, the boys are always whistlering at her, looking at her legs and throwing "compliments". Ron doesn't like it, it makes him a little insecure but she reminds him she only loves him and she is only him's

I loveeee this concepttt, and I hope you like it<3

Promise?

Pairings : fem!reader x Jealous!RonWeasely

Warnings : Language, jealous Ron, catcalls, unprotected sex, oral (m.), classroom quickie, not proof read

Word count : something over 4K

You were totally going to flip out.

You spent so long making sure you had everything packed for the semester and here you were. It was frustrating to you, how could you miss this? This skirt was a size and a half too small, the most you moved the wrong way your whole asscheek would've been on the newsletters front page.

"It doesn't look that bad, it's wearable." Ginny stated, genuinely not finding a problem in you skirt as she brush through her red locks. "Besides you definitely have the legs for it." She tried to cheer you up as you stared at yourself in the body length mirror.

It's was your first day of year 7 and you were already off to a bad start. You wore this exact skirt on this exact day 2 years ago. You had grown since then, you were no longer a child, yet somehow you still managed to squeeze yourself right into this god awful skirt. It stopped down right at your mid thigh, and to say this was out of your comfort zones would be an understatement. You were on the verge of just deciding not to show up for classes today. Though you knew Hermione was never going to let that actually happen.

"You think I'd get away with it?" You pouted, and both of the girls nodded.

"You look like some of the muggle girls I see back home. They have interesting taste, personally I'd never pull it off, but you do, very well." Hermione spoke in hopes to cheer you up.

It didn't work very well.

"And if anyone asks just say you're making a fashion statement." Gin spoke, sending the idea through your head for only moment before you shook it out.

"No one makes fashion statements at Hogwarts... it's basically forbidden." You whined, stomping your foot on the ground.

"Says who?"

"It's an unspoken rule amongst like... everyone." You sighed in response.

Ginny rolled her eyes, standing from the edge of her bed. It was time to head for breakfast and meet up with the boys. You've been rambling about this since you got back to campus. You had yet to see Ronald, and you were overly ecstatic to see his beautiful face yet again. He and Harry sent you letters all summer long but you were busy doing things back in your hometown. You wanted to sneak out last night, but the two of you agreed on the morning. Besides, most of your classes were together, including your off period meaning you too got to do whatever you pleased for a whole hour. What's not exciting about that?!

"We have to get going soon, y/n. I'm hungry, and Hermione is halfway out the door already." Ginny spoke, grabbing you bag from off the floor as well. "No one is going to notice, you look fine." She reassured you. "And if anyone says anything about my sister-in-law we will be having some words." She smiled sweetly making your cheeks hot.

"Me and Ron aren't even married." You fought back you smiled as you took your bag from the girl. She was basically like the little sister you've always wanted. "And after today I might die of embarrassment, so we never will be."

"I think you look great. Now. Can we go?" Hermione stood, ready to start her day.

"Ugh, fine." You groan, both of the girls smiling widely at you. "But I'm only giving myself until 3 class before I started sobbing." You sighed as Hermione took your hand in hers. Leading you to the door.

"Please, you won't make it past snap me if he sees you in the hallway." Ginny scoffed, your eyes widening as you realized she was right.

"What if he dress codes me? Or all the teachers think I'm a whore? Oh god, I'm going to get kicked out-"

"Y/N! You're skirts not even that short, and I was talking about you holding in tears!" Ginny sighed, closing the room down behind the 3 of you.

You couldn't help it, you were on a rollercoaster of emotions up all the way to the dining hall. That's where the lot of your friends stood in the halls catching up and sending you sweet smiles and took you how good you looked. You're cheeks were burning hot, and the compliment made you want to curl up into a ball.

"Look, there they are!" Hermione spoke, pointing to the two boys, already digging into the food on their plates. You noticed the extra cup of juice and muffin on Ron's plate, he saved it just for you, knowing how uneasy your stomach is in the mornings.

A bright smile formed on your face as you began making your way towards your boyfriend. Your smile slowly faded as loud group of ravenclaw boys in the corner of the cafeteria sent loud whistle noises through the air. Your eyes went to them immediately before you noticed their sights set on you. Ron's head turned slowly too, not very interested in whatever poor girl they were harassing until his gaze was set on you.

His jaw nearly dropped to the floor. You looked beautiful, as you always did. You were walking with that smile you do when your uncomfortable, and your finger freshly manicured fingers gripping the strap of your book bag. You were dressed in your regular uniform, except when you scanned you over his eyes got stuck on the length of your legs. They were nice, they looked warm, and comfortable. He's see your legs before though, he's seen each of your boys part very close and intimately before but, now everyone was seeing what was usually reserved for his eyes only.

"People are staring." You mumbled.

"Let's just get to the table so they have nothing to stare at." Hermione spoke and you nodded.

"Nice skirt, Y/L/N!" A voice called out from somewhere in the cafeteria.

You ignored the comment, heading straight for your boyfriend who stood quickly from his seat at the table to greet you.

You're smile returned as you approached, neither of you waiting too long to wrap up in each other's arms. You threw your arms over his shoulder, his cinnamony scent taking over you nostrils almost instantly. His arms wrapped around you waist, gripping you tightly as he soaked in your presence. You felt your body release all tension it held and for a brief moment in time you forgot all about-

"Hey y/n," you're attention broke away from the warmth of Ron's body sinking into yours to the tall brunette with a bright smile on his face. "There's a party in the commons later, you should drop by." He spoke, eyes falling down your body, taking their sweet time in returning back to your face.

"Oh uhm, sure thing Cedric." You spoke, pulling away from you're red headed boyfriend.

"You guys can come too if you want." He spoke looking at the rest of your friends. "Can't wait to hear all about your summer, y/n." He spoke to you, sending a wink before waving goodbye.

You and Cedric had a few classes together, but you were never super close friends. Definitely not close enough to be inviting each other to party's.

"Since when are you Cedric best friends?" Your boyfriend asked noticing the way Cedric totally checked you out and how you didn't even notice.

"We're not. He was just being friendly." You shrugged it off, not seeing much more too it. You sent your boyfriend a sweet smile, unable to contain your happiness that you were finally reunited. "Now am I going to have to pretend that I want you to kiss me or are you going to read my mind?" You joked. Ron smiled, shaking off the weird feelings. His hands moved up to cup your face, bringing yours up to his until your lips came together. He tasted like orange juice and some type of tart berry.

"Oh young love. I love love." Lunas voices spoke breaking your kiss apart. Suddenly you pushed your boyfriend away to hug your other friend Luna. You missed her all too much this summer, seeing her again made your heart happy. "Hello." She giggled.

"It's good to see you, Luna. I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, y/n." Your friend smiled sweetly as you finally let her go, giving her space to breathe. "Bold fashion choice, really shows off your legs. You have nice legs." She commented, making your cheeks turn hot.

"Thank you, Luna." You smiled. "It wasn't really intentional, but I have to stick it out for the next few days." You explain and she nods.

"Hey y/n!" A voice called from across the cafeteria again. "Looking good!"

You smile a bit, not really sure how to respond to the comment. You haven't changed much over the summer. Maybe you grew a few centimeters, and changed your hair up a bit, but you were still the same old y/n. It was like you haven't know half of this dining hall for the past 6/7 years of you life.

"You've got to be kidding me." Ron scoffed, eyeing around the room from who the sound came from.

"Ronnie, it's whatever, let's just sit, yeah" you hummed looking the spot he had reserved to you. "Muffins, my favorite." You tried changing the subject but you could still tell how the comment made from some asshole across the way bothered him. His cheeks were glowing red and his eyes squinting a bit. His lips pressed together in a thin line as you guided him to sit back down at the breakfast table.

The day past very slowly. Teachers making snide remarks about skin, groups of girls whisper in the halls as you passed, and the occasional whistle call from a boy who just couldn't help himself.

You were invited to the same party about 4 different times today. Each times with your boyfriend present, as if he wasn't standing right there. Some 5th year even tried asking you out in front of Ron, you saved his life by not respond and just pretending you didn't hear. Ron would've ripped the kids ears off if you acknowledged the plain foolery.

"Where are you going, Ronald?" You asked as class ended. The two of you were supposed to spend your first free period of the school year together in the garden with sweets you snuck here from back home. Right now he just wanted to get out of the classroom as quickly as possible. "Ron!" You spoke louder, your steps quick in order to catch up with him.

"I heard you the first time, y/n." He turned his head to gripe. Your eyebrows furrowed together at the unnecessarily aggressive comment.

"If you didn't want to hang out with me, you could've just said. You don't have to be a dick about it." You scoffed, shaking your head even though he couldn't see your obviously hurt visual reaction.

His hand reached out for your wrist, before you could walk away. You didn't want to cause a scene in the hallway full of students rushing to be out of the halls in a jiffy. You allowed Ron to drag you along with him, until he opened up an empty class room door. He pulled you in, shut the door behind you and spelling it shut so no one would interrupt the two of you.

"You're not seriously going to that party tonight are you?" He scoffed out first, setting his bag on the ground as he turned to look at you with disappointment.

"People are expecting me there, Ron. Everyone is going!" You sighed.

"Doesn't mean you have to!"

"Is that why you're upset? A party? Bloody hell Ronald." You cursed, annoyed with the red head.

"I'm upset because guys have been flirting with you like crazy all day and you just bloody let them!" He growled as you set your own bag down. "Don't act as if you had all of these friends last year, when we both know you didn't. The only reason the want you to go is so they can stare at your ass some more!" He fired your eyes widening a bit. It made perfect sense... You rarely ever spoke to Cedric before, or half of the boys that approached you today. You took all of their friendly gestures as... friendly gestures. Pulling out seats for you, complimenting your appearance, everything, you thought they were just being kind.

"Excuse me, I don't see the worst in everyone. It's a new year, we're growing up, they were just being nice! You defend."

"To you!" He snaps.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You're arms dropped from being crossed over your chest. His mouth opened to respond before shutting again, shaking his head and muttering a quick "never mind, it's nothing". "What did you mean, Ron." You spoke seriously, honestly quite annoyed with his behavior.

"I've had to watch every boy in this school practically drool all over you since breakfast." He spoke up. You had forgotten about breakfast. "The whistles, the compliments, I even heard some Slytherin talk about winning you over at the party tonight." He sighed, explaining his anger. Was he jealous?

"But literally everyone knows I'm yours, Ronnie." You respond in a softer tone, taking a step towards him. "I've been your for almost a whole year now, The thought of not being with you hasn't even crossed my mind."

"Do you think they care, y/n?" He scoffed again. "Your hot, your smart, and you have a boyfriend, your a perfect target!" He whined.

"I'm not going to be won over by cheap pick up lines and bad booze."

"Are you sure? Because Cedric seems to think that your already begging him to sweep you off your feet. Was whispering about it all class." He pouted and you heart dropped into your stomach. "And why wouldn't you? He's good looking, sporty, funny, charming, and apparently he's a great kisser."

"I wouldn't because I don't love him. I love you. I'll always love you, I'll never love anyone the way I love you. Your good looking, smart, you can be sporty if you didn't doubt yourself every five seconds-" he rolled his eyes, attempting to turn away from you before you grabbing his hand pulling him closer to you. "Like your doing now... your hilarious to me, Ronnie. You're the most interesting person I know, and I'm pretty sure your the best kisser to ever grace this sad run down planet." You spoke, pulling him until your bodies touched, placing his hands on your waist as you looked up into his soft eyes. "I love you, Ronald."

"Do you promise?" He spoke quickly and you nodded.

"I'm going to marry you one day" A smile slowly found its way to his red face, allowing the anger and sadness to flush right through him.

"I love you, y/n. More than life itself."

"Promise?" You smiled back.

"Would I ever lie to the mother of my future children?"

You stood on your tiptoes, leaning your head up until your lips pressed against his. He still tasted like orange juice, the tart berry faded as the day went past. His hands on your waist squeezing as you arms went over his shoulders. Your lips moving against his gave him a good taste of your cherry flavored lip balm. It was a new one, last year your stuck to a watermelon flavored balm.

You hadn't even noticed the two of you were moving until he helped you hop up on one of the lab tables. Your hands moving down to unbuckle his pants as quickly as possible before he pulled apart your kiss.

"Are you sure you wanna do this here?" He asked, only because he knew you would die of embarrassment if caught by anyone. He had no problem having sex with you in here, it's not like he hadn't that about it tens of times core.

"Take me, right here." You nodded, unbuttoning his pants as you focused on one thing. "You know, I've really really missed you this past few months." Your bottom lip caught between your teeth. "I've missed you over and over and over..." you hummed, tugging his pants down enough until they weren't in your way.

"That's a lot of missing me." Ron swallowed, you fingers slipping past the waist band of his boxers pulling them down a bit before you pulled out his cock with precum already leaking from his tip.

"Mmhmm." You lost count of how many times you struggled to get yourself off without Ron. It was frustrating and made you regret not spend at least a few weeks with him and his family. "I've felt Kinda... empty." You spoke spreading your legs for him as he prepped himself.

"I could help you out with that... make you feel more... full." He offered and you nodded. His hands slipping under the skirt that was no basically showing your whole ass, pushing you black panties to the sides. You were already dripping as his fingers ran up you slit to make sure you were ready for him.

"Please Ronnie." You moaned, as he lined himself up with your entrance.

He looked to you for last second approval, you nod, pulling his body closer to yours by his tie, connecting your lips once more before he finally pushed into you. You both groaned at the sensation, he stretched you out until you felt the pleasurable burn spreading through your groin. Not stopping until your hips met and he was deep inside of you. Your walls clenched around him, missing the feeling of the burn he usually ensued.

He drew his hips back only a bit before slowly rocking himself into you. Your ass on the very edge of the table. Legs wrapped around his waist and he fucked into you. Lips still connected in sloppy slow sensual kisses that you dreamt about so many nights this summer. Your muffled moans filled the dead silence in the empty classroom the two of you were occupying. The sounds only encouraging his movements as his hips sped up in pace, hands down to grip your thighs to keep your legs apart for him. This wasn't the way either of you wanted to wanted to greet each other after 3 sum months, but it'd have to do.

"God, your so tight!" Ron moaned through the sloppily kisses. His voice made you clench around him once more making his hips stutter as he moved faster and harder.

"You feel so good baby."you moaned, voice in a high pitch and out of breath.

His lips moved from your to down your neck, arm wrapped around your back to keep you steady. You were trying to keep yourself quiet in case any stragglers in the halls happened to walk by. You let out tiny gasps and squeals whenever he hit a particular deep spot in your cunt that nearly drove you mad.

"F-fuck"

His hand moved from your thigh to your clit. Rubbing harsh circle on the bundle of nerves. Your jaw fell open as you tried to focus on a single point of pleasure to celebrate, with his cock hitting your g spot with every thrust and your clit sending pleasurable shocks through the rest of your body it was hard to focus on just one thing.

"M's-so cl-ose-" you choked out, unable to really forming words.

"I know, babe, cum for me, Princess." Ronald murmured, brain foggy with lust. Hips still rocking into

yours as you desperately tried to hold on for just a bit longer. It became harder to control to noises slipping past your lips. Uttering his name in your whines as he brought you over the edge, hips moving a bit slower as you clenched tightly around him, legs shaking a bit as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

“Oh fuck” you moaned, breathing heavy and hips still rocking into his.

“Almost forgot how pretty you are when you do that.” He smirks, your eyebrows furrowing a bit.

“When I do what?” You hum, he opened his mouth to respond but he just shut it back again before shaking his head.

“Nothing.” He shrugged.

“N- wait, did you..?” You peered down between the two of you.

“Uhm no, it’s fine- I don’t even have condom on me-”

“I can-”

“No, you don’t have to-”

“I want to.” You stated, smiling at the way it was so easy to read each other’s minds. “Really.”

“I mean... yeah, uhm okay.” He spoke, cheeks turning a bright red color. You nodded letting out a slight moan as he pulled out of you. He helped you off the table, allowing you to fix your skirt before sinking down to your knees. You looked up to him through your lashes basically causing his insides to melt at the sight.

You wasted no time in making sure he was satisfied. Your lips arm lips warming around him, tongue collecting all of your own juices as you took him further into your mouth. You let out a soft moan, sending the vibrations through his spine earning a groan from him. His mouth fell open as he felt his tip touch the back of your throat. His eyes glued on your lips as his cock disappeared in your mouth over and over. He fought the strong urge to see just how far you could take him in your pretty mouth before you couldn’t breathe.

“Bloody hell, just like that, y/n.” He moaned, hand finding its way to the back of your head, only pushing you into him gently. You didn’t mind it, you actually very often craved the way he usually took control. That ache between your legs returned, the one that usually made your mind foggy and made bad decisions seem not so bad in the long run.

The ground cold on your knees, skirt wrapped tightly around your body, boyfriend beginning to twitch as your push your limit in how far he could go. Tears polling in the bottom of your eyes, threatening to ruin the makeup you had done perfectly for the day. You felt his cock twitching in your mouth enjoying the noises coming from his throat as he neared his high.

“Fuck I’m gonna-” he moaned before spilling his hot seed into you mouth. Without think you swallow I’m around him, milking him for whatever he was worth before he had to pull you away from him. Both of you slightly out of breath before as he helped you to your feet. Your lips glossy from a mixture of spit and his cum, which he didn’t seem to mind as he pulled you in for one final kiss.

“We should skip next period and lunch, have some fun... I haven’t seen you all summer and I really missed you.” You emphasized on the really, as you pulled away from the kiss.

“And as much as I’m not opposed to that, you’d castrate me tomorrow for letting you skip the first day just to have sex.”

“Mm, you get me.” You giggled, watching as he fixed himself so he could the two of you could return to normal civilization. “Now we should go before someone tries to get in here.” You mentioned, fixing your own skirt once again, and making sure you had no remnants of Ron on your face or clothes. You helped fix his tie until you both looked as well as two people could after fucking in a classroom. “Do you think we could sneak out tonight? Have a picnic under the Stars somewhere?” You asked, earning a light hearted chuckle from your boyfriend.

“What about your party?” He asked.

“They’ll just have to miss us.” You shrugged, taking Ron’s hand in yours as you know lace your bag on you shoulder.

He didn’t respond but you knew the answer. He just smile as pulled the both of you towards the door stopping as you heard the quick tapping of someone’s feet’s along the stone floors. You both paused in the doorway, hearts beating before watching your dark haired best friend turn the corner. He spotted the two of you quickly with a smile, out of breath and not really in the position to stop but he did so anyways.

“Woah, mate, what are you doing?” Ron asked, confusion lightly his face.

Harry’s eyes flickered from you back to Ron before rolling to the back of his head out of annoyance.

“That thing we said we were going to do earlier. You disappeared so I did it myself... and well... I got caught, so if you will excuse me-" you’re eyebrows furrowed as you looked to Ron with a sudden pale and tense figure.

“What did you do?” You groaned.

“YOU’RE DEAD POTTER!” A familiar clump of voices called, echoing through the halls before you’re eyes went wide.

“Tell you later?” He offered before you rolled your eyes gripping your boyfriend hand as you both prepared to run along side your friend.

#wattpad #aesthetic #teaser #ron weasley smut #ron wesley #ronald weasley #harry potter #ron x you #ron x y/n

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afeb · 3 years

Text

Fred Weasley - Mrs. Claus

“Merry Christmas!”

“What are you wearing?”

“I’m Mrs. Claus.” I beamed as I performed a small twirl for Fred. “Looks cute, right?”

He chuckled a little. “Very...”

“I see someone didn’t take note of the Christmas jumper or costume rule.” I cocked a brow as I opened the cash register and began to mull around the quiet shop preparing for the late Christmas shoppers.

Fred rounded the counter and leant against it. “I have a rule for Christmas jumpers.” He hummed in response.

“And what would that be?” I asked as I made a list of all the things I had to do today.

“I only wear one Christmas jumper, for one day every year.” He explained. “The jumper my mum made for me, on the day we go to hers for Christmas dinner.”

I smiled. “Well...I think I’ll let you off then.”

“Thanks boss.” He winked back. “Would you be a dear and make me a coffee?”

I rolled my eyes and reluctantly agreed, trudging to the staff room. When I returned, I gave Fred his coffee and went back to my list. Scribbed at the bottom, in Fred’s hand writing, was:

14. Meet Fred in office at the end of the day x

I frowned and looked up at him, but he was busy opening the door and ushering in the small crowd that had gathered outside. The shop was immensely busy all day and I barely had time to ask Fred what the meeting was about. Once the shop was closed, shelves restocked and cash register put away, I tiredly shut off the lights and made my way to his office.

I knocked twice. “Come in!”

I yawned as I walked inside, Fred hunched over a piece of parchment writing away. I took a seat on one of the chairs in front of him and crossed my legs, playing with some bells hanging from the collar of my costume.

“Am I in trouble?” I warily asked.

“Masses of amounts.” He said back, but I saw the smirk he was trying to hide as he turned the page over and kept writing.

“Because of what?” I entertained our conversation.

“That dress of yours.” He said as he dipped his pen into a near by inkwell.

I stroked over the material. “My dress? Why?”

“You have no idea how distracting it’s been watching you bend over dressed as Mrs. Claus.” His eyes flicked up to see my reaction.

I shifted in my seat. “What?”

“Do you have any idea how...” he thought for a moment. “Innocent you look?”

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as he peered on. “What would you have me wear?” I asked teasingly.

He closed his eyes momentarily and took a small breath. “Nothing.”

“Wouldn’t that be more distracting?” I asked quietly.

“Believe me,” he leant back in his chair. “I’d be very focused.”

“On what?” I slowly stood and rounded the desk to stand before him.

He peered up at me and spread his legs, hand grasping mine and tugging me between them. “Seeing how loud I can make you scream my name.”

I gasped as his hand went up the skirt of my dress and brushed over my underwear. “Freddie...” I softly whined as I placed my hand on his shoulder to steady myself.

“Please let me.” He begged. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve dreamed of this.”

I small smile spread on my lips as I nodded. “Yes.” I breathed as he pushed my underwear to the side and softly dipped his fingers into the wet patch that had formed.

“Well Mrs. Claus, who made you this wet?” He teased as the tips of his fingers circled my bundle of nerves.

“You Freddie.” I whined back, hands moving to his hair and tugging.

He stood to his full height, looming over me and peering down. “Let’s see if you taste as sweet as the candy you make.” He cocked a suggestive brow.

I giggled as I was hoisted up and planted on the desk, Fred quickly spreading my thighs and standing between them. Taking my face in his hands, he sponged a long kiss to my lips which caused a small moan to escape my lips.

“Please.” I breathed as he pulled away.

He grabbed the chair from behind him and comfortably sat, peering up at me. “Your husband is only away one night a year, I need to savour what I can get.” He joked which caused another giggle to escape me.

I eased back onto the desk as he moved my legs further apart and peered at me. I bucked my hips, prompting him to move my underwear to the side and stare again. Freds breathing grew heavier as he took his time to explore my nerves with his fingers, brushing over my bud before easing the tips into my entrance.

“Freddie.” I pathetically whined again.

He let out a small, dark chuckle before moving ever closer. “Just matching it with how I thought you’d look.” He explained.

“Do I exceed expectations?” I asked.

“Oh darling, I never knew heaven was between your thighs.” Before I could utter a response he licked a bold stripe up me, causing my mouth to fall open and a pornographic moan to tumble out.

His expertly tongue circled my bundle of nerves before sucking gently on them, humming against me. Quickly, he dipped his tongue into my entrance before easing one finger in. His tongue went back to giving my nerves attention as he flexed his finger, curling before pulling out again. I bucked my hips desperately and fisted my red costume, whimpering and moaning his name repeatedly.

He pulled away as stood, smiling down at me with glistening lips. “And?” I panted, hauling myself to sit up.

“Mrs. Claus, Santa is a lucky man if he gets to taste you every night.” I couldn’t help the smile that broke on my lips.

“Who knew you had a Mrs. Claus kink?” I joked back.

“Only when it comes to you.” He winked. “Now come here, I’m not done with you yet.”

#fred #weasley #fred weasley #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #james #Phelps #james phelps #james phelps fluff #james phelps angst #james phelps smut #harry potter #draco #fred and george weasley

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maliby · 4 years

Text

Taste of Little | pjm (M)

↬ Pairing: Jimin x Fem Reader ↬ Story Genre: fluff with a spread of smut ↬ Warnings: explicit language, explicit sex scene, mentions of cheating, body insecurities ↬ Word count: 4.2K ↬ Summary: It was yours and your boyfriend Jimin’s first anniversary, aka the night you were finally going to have sex. Every thing was going fine until he simply leaves you high and dry; turns out Jimin is hiding a little secret that he’s too scared to tell you. Will your love for him be bigger than that?

For: The Intimacy Anthology Project

“Excuse me, are you Y/N?” A handsome stranger asked as he approached your table that was conveniently close to the exit so you could bolt if anything went wrong.

“Yes, I am, and you must be Jimin right?” You stated as you looked at the black hoody Jimin said he’d be wearing.

“Yes,” he smiled. His smile was so sweet and warm that you swore he could make a rockfall in love with him just with that smile alone.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

It’s been exactly one year today since you first met Jimin at the same cafe you were in right now - the ‘Aroma Mocha’.

At first, when your friend and roommate Jenna had set you up to go on a blind date with him you didn’t really want to go. The reason was that you had sworn off guys ever since your last relationship ended with your ex choking on another man’s dick on your couch wearing your lingerie. So, when your friend came up with the suggestion of getting back out there you had shut her down immediately. It wasn’t until you lost some stupid bet over Jenna banging an idol that you were “obliged” to go on a date with her coworker Jimin (something that now made you thank your lucky stars every day).

“You’re late mister,” you pointed to your watch as your handsome boyfriend walked in in a rush.

“I’m so sorry baby,” he said before tenderly kissing your lips. “Happy anniversary,” the smile on his lips reminded you of the very first time he smiled at you, in this very cafe, and, the very first time he ever made your heart race.

“Happy anniversary.”

“Namjoon was attempting to cook dinner for Jin and he almost sliced his finger off so I had to take him to the hospital,” he took off his denim jacket as he sat opposite you. He then picked up the menu and looked through it, searching for something to order.

“I swear Namjoon needs a babysitter, doesn’t he know he’s not allowed near sharp objects without supervision?”

“He wanted to surprise his boyfriend but, if you want my opinion, Jin’s lucky he wasn’t able to finish that monstrosity of a meal.”

You chuckled. “Well, Namjoon isn’t the only person who prepared a surprise for their boyfriend,” you smirked, amused with his curious expression.

“Oh yeah? What did my beautiful girlfriend prepare for me?”

“Well, if I told you now it wouldn’t really be a surprise now would it?” You reached over the table and pressed a small kiss on his lips.

Jimin and you hadn’t had sex yet. At first, it didn’t really bother you much because you were not one to rush things and, since Jimin was a little bit shy, you wanted to respect him but now you were starting to second guess yourself. Your inner voice kept whispering you thoughts like: “he doesn’t find you physically attractive” or “he’s cheating on you with other people”, something you admit may come from the trauma of your past relationship. So, with your 1st anniversary coming up you thought that it was now or never. You decided to shoot for the stars and bought an expensive lingerie set in your favourite colour, that you were wearing at that moment.

After your cafe date, you had arranged a little picnic-style dinner at the beach, where you watched the summer sunset together. After that, you went back to your place - since Jenna was out of town and Jimin lived with Namjoon - excused yourself to the bathroom (where you were currently at) and got ready to put your ultimate plane of seduction in action.

You took off your dress so you were just in lingerie, brushed your teeth twice, put some deodorant (just in case) and exited the bathroom, ready to put on a show.

“Hey baby, I poured you a glass of-” the pair of glasses he was holding shattered on your wooden floor, its content spilling all over to the nearest carpet, “-wine.”

You smiled. This was exactly the reaction you wanted, a reaction so good that immediately made you forget about all your doubts and fears - he wanted you.

“You like it? It’s just for you,” you teased as you gave a little twirl so he could fully observe you.

“You look...fuck.”

His jaw was locked, and his eyes scanned you up and down as you slowly started to shorten the distance between the two of you. As soon as you reached him though, he did something completely unexpected.

“Jimin, what are you doing?” You followed him to the kitchen where he had run to pick up napkins.

“We need to clean this up before it ruins your floor, or you hurt yourself,” he rambled on as he went back to the place of the accident. It was almost like he was trying to avoid you.

“Jimin,” you slouched down and grabbed the hand that was picking up the broken pieces of glass, making him stand up again, “I don’t give a fuck about the glass. I just want to have you.”

You placed your hands on his chubby cheeks and softly kissed him.

At first, it took him a while to relax and give in, but as soon as he started to kiss you back the intensity of the kiss immediately changed.

You guided him to your bedroom without ever breaking the kiss. While your hands were busy tugging at his brown locks his own were hoisting up your skirt so they could grab your ass.

“Take your shirt off,” you said after he threw you on the bed.

Your loins were on fire, they were burning for him, aching even. You had seen him shirtless before but this time you felt like you almost couldn’t control yourself. Your eyes examined his delicious chocolate abs and wondered what it would be like to kiss and lick them and to keep on going until you reached his cock.

You wanted to please him so badly, you wanted to hear him moan your name, you wanted to watch him come undone, you wanted to watch his facial features contort in pleasure because of you, you wanted it all.

He got on top of you and you both started making out once again.

“I want you so badly Jimin,” you said as you flipped your positions and got on top of him. He didn’t answer, but you could tell by the tiny moan that escaped his mouth and the way that he squeezed your thigh that he was excited.

First, you started to kiss his neck and then you made your way to his abs, running your tongue through the defined muscles. Your hands started working on the button of his jeans and you could feel him tense up. You thought it was probably just from the excitement or something, but as soon as your mouth started to descend towards his nether region he suddenly pushed you off and got up.

“Is everything alright?” You asked out of worry, being scared that you had crossed some sort of line for him.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I- I need to go,” he buttoned up his pants and put his shirt back on.

“Jimin, did I do something wrong?” Suddenly, your whole world dropped and all your insecurities came flushing back in at once, tears starting to build up in your eyes.

“No, it’s just...fuck, I need to leave,” he turned away from you, put his shoes back on and left, leaving you a heartbroken mess on your bed.

“Honey I’m hoooome!” Your roommate Jenna yelled as she returned home from her week-long vacation in her hometown.

Her loud voice woke you up, but it wasn’t like you were having a nice sound sleep; nightmares, as well as crippling thoughts of the man you loved cheating on you, had plagued you for the past week.

“What are you still doing sleeping at noon and why aren’t you coming out to great your roomy?” You heard her enter your room but remained immobile under the cocoon your sheet provided.

“Get out of bed you lazy ass!” Jenna dragged the sheet that was hiding you all the way back and exposed you to the sunlight coming from your previously shut blinds.

“Jennaaaaaa,” you whined while trying to reach for the sheet, but she had pulled it way too far.

“Y/N, it stinks and you look like shit! What the fuck happened while I was away?”

“Nothing,” you lied.

“What did Jimin do?”

“How did you know?”

Sometimes you were amazed at how well Jenna knew you but that’s what 3 years of living together can do for you.

“Because I left you alone in the house on your anniversary with Jimin and instead of smelling like sex it smells like death,” she pointed out, matter-of-factly with her arms crossed over her chest.

You sighed, burying your face back on your pillow.

“Y/N, what happened?” Jenna sat on the bed right next to you and pet your unwashed hair in a comforting gesture.

“I think Jimin is cheating on me.”

“Jimin?” You hummed. “The Park Jimin?” You hummed once more. “Y/N, I don’t believe Jimin would ever do that to you. First, because he’s not the cheating type, and second, because he loves you, like a lot. Like, I get diabetes just by the sweet way in which he looks at you-”

“We’ve never had sex,” you interrupted her train of thought as you finally lifted up your head from your pillow to look at her.

“What? Never?”

“Nope,” you popped your last syllable to give emphasis.

“Okay but, that doesn’t really mean anything. You know Jimin can be a little shy at times. Maybe-”

“I thought that too,” you interrupted her once more, “and because of that, I decided that, on the night of our anniversary, I would be the one to initiate it. So, after a lovely time on our date I brought him back here, excused myself to the bathroom and came back out wearing a lingerie set so hot he dropped the fucking wine glass on the floor. You should have seen the way he was looking at me, he totally wanted it. Then, after a heated make-out session, he suddenly stops everything and leaves.”

“What? Oh no...and you guys haven’t spoken since?”

“No. He tried calling, but I ignored him.”

“Y/N…”

“I know what you’re going to say, that I need to be a grown-up and talk it through, but what if he’s going to tell me that he doesn’t want to be with me anymore? What if he tells me that he’s gonna leave me for another one? Or that maybe he’s into dudes now.”

“Jimin is not your stinking ex,” Jenna pointed out. She had never really liked your ex-boyfriend.

“I know, but still…”

“Okay, I’ve heard enough! You are gonna get up, take a shower, because you fucking stink, and then, after we have lunch, we’re going to Jimin’s soccer game with the guys and you’re gonna talk to him there, am I clear?!”

“Yes, mom…”

“Aish these kids…” you heard her say as you made your way to the bathroom.

When both you and Jenna arrived at the game, the second half had already started. There weren’t many people there - since it was purely an amateur game between friends - and since you didn’t want him to see you just yet, you and Jenna just stood behind a tree, enjoying the shade it provided.

Usually, your boyfriend was the best player, scoring numerous goals that led his team to victory, but today it looked like he wasn’t even there; he’d missed almost all of his passes, accidentally scored an own goal and almost got himself kicked out of the game.

“I’ll be in the car waiting,” your friend told you as soon as the referee whistled to end the game, “take your time.”

“Thanks, Jenna.”

You gave her a small hug of gratitude and waited till everyone was in the locker room so you could wait outside for Jimin. What you weren’t expecting though, was to be able to listen to every little thing the boys were saying inside.

“What’s up with you today Jimin? If it wasn’t for Jungkook we could’ve had a way more embarrassing result than losing 3-2!” You recognized the voice of his roommate Namjoon - he clearly wasn’t happy.

“It’s nothing,” Jimin’s voice was so low that if he wasn’t right next to the window that was also next to you, you wouldn’t be able to hear his response.

“Did you finally have sex with Y/N?” A voice you recognized as his friend Hoseok asked, putting you in a state of hyperawareness. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, you could feel your blood pumping at a rapid pace and you could feel your hands shaking from the nerves. Whatever happened next, you would know the whole truth about you and Jimin. His answer would reveal everything. For sure if he was banging another girl his friends would know. Aren’t guys known for spilling out everything in the locker room?

His answer never came though.

“So that’s why you’re such a mess today. Did she react badly to the size of your dick and ran away?” Hoseok’s voice sounded again.

You were beyond shocked. Wherever you thought their conversation was going, you were clearly wrong. Never in a million years would you imagine that the reason Jimin acted the way he did was because of his insecurities.

“No...fuck. I-I was the one who ran away.”

“Shit man,” Hoseok answered, his voice getting closer to where you were standing, probably coming closer to comfort Jimin.

“Now she’s not answering my texts or calls, I’m scared I screwed it up forever,” he sighed.

“Jimin, just talk to her. Y/N loves you, I’m sure she’ll understand,” Namjoon reasoned.

“And what if she doesn’t want to be with me because I can’t please her like a normal guy?”

You turned around and left for the car, not being able to hear more.

Of all the times you had imagined the reasons why you hadn’t had sex yet, never once had crossed your mind that that reason was the size of his penis. Of all the times you felt insecure about yourself, never once had crossed your mind that the man you loved was the one feeling insecure. For all of that, you felt like a piece of shit; for pressuring him, for doubting him, for everything.

You wanted to tell him then and there that you loved him more than anything and that you didn’t care about the size of his penis, but most of all, you wanted to tell him that you were sorry for pressuring him.

That same night you wanted to surprise Jimin and apologize to him. So, after texting his roommate explaining everything that had happened that afternoon and asking if you could come by, he promptly told you that he’d gladly go on a date with his boyfriend to leave you two alone. Thus, when dinner time came and Namjoon left, you picked up a couple of pizzas, a bottle of wine, and went to Jimin’s place.

You knocked on his door and at first, he didn’t answer, but after insisting once more he finally opened the door.

“Namjoon I swear I’m gonna nail the keys to your hands- Y/N.” The way in which Jimin was looking at you right now reminded you so much of a lost puppy that you just wanted to drop everything and hug him tight.

“I thought we should talk. I brought pizza and wine.” Jimin stood in front of you with his mouth agape, not saying anything. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” He stepped aside to let you through and you walked to the kitchen to place the pizzas and the wine on the table.

“Namjoon just left-”

“I know, he offered to once I told him I was coming,” you put the food on the table and turned to him.

“Y/N... I’m so sorry I left the other day. It’s nothing to do with you, I love you. It’s just…”

“Jimin, I know.” You grabbed his hand to comfort him.

“Y-you know?”

He looked so adorable when he was confused. You looked at the way he wide opened his eyes and you just melted inside.

“I went to see you play today and, at the end of the game, I waited for you outside the locker room so we could talk and I heard everything you guys said.”

“You heard? So, you know? Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to hurt you it was just-” You kissed him.

“Jimin, I don’t care that you have a small penis. You could have a wind chime for a penis and I wouldn’t mind, you know why? Because I love you with all my heart.” You placed your hands on his chubby cheeks in a tender gesture and ran your thumbs over his skin.

“I’m so sorry I put that kind of pressure on you. I should’ve known that you weren’t feeling it and-”

“Wasn’t feeling it? Fuck Y/N, do you know how much I wanted you at that moment? Do you know that you almost ended me when you came out of the bathroom looking like that? Trust me when I say that leaving you that night was hard as fuck and also, something I’ve regretted ever since.”

After soulfully looking into each other's eyes you embraced one another. You nuzzled your head in his neck and just stood there smelling his Hugo Boss perfume. The hug was a healing one, like all that you’ve been through for the past week had just been erased by his strong arms.

Jimin pulled back from the hug so his lips could meet yours, passion flowing right through you. The kiss quickly got more heated as his hands started wandering all over your body, making the temperature rise.

“Baby,” you pulled away and looked right at his glazed eyes, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to-”

“I want to.” He placed a soft kiss on your lips and led you to his bedroom where he started to remove his t-shirt, showing you his glorious abs.

Not wanting him to feel left out, and to give him some type of security, you also started to remove your shirt, following it up with the rest of your outfit until you were completely naked on his bed.

“I am so lucky,” he stated as he observed your naked body on his bed.

His half-naked body soon was on top of yours, his mouth worshipping your skin with sweet and tender kisses. He started at the neck, moved through your chest (teasing your nipple a little bit with his tongue), down your stomach and straight to your dripping centre.

“You’re so beautiful,” his eyes were fixated on yours as he licked your pussy, paying special attention to your small nub.

This was the first time Jimin was eating you out, the two of you only having gone to second base. From all the times you envisioned his head between your legs you had to admit you only imagined the best; Jimin was by far the best kisser you’ve had, not only because of those luscious lips of his but also because he had a very skilful tongue that he knew how to use in just the right amount. So, to say that he exceeded your expectations was putting it lightly. He was fucking knocking your metaphorical socks off.

“Fuck Jimin, just like that.” The way his wet tongue was circling your clit made you grab a handful of his dark brown locks so he could get even closer to you.

You were getting in such a euphoric state that you almost felt like something was taking over you; especially when he inserted a finger inside you. One minute you were biting your lip as hard as you could, the other you were almost pulling out his bedspread and in the next you were massaging your breasts to enhance your pleasure; an act that, in tandem, made you cum on your boyfriend’s mouth as you screamed his name.

“You were so good at that baby,” he climbed back up on top of you and you pulled him in for a quick kiss, the taste of your juices being all over his lips, “that was the best oral sex I’ve ever had.”

“Well, you know. I needed to get good at that since, you know…”

Your heart completely dropped, not thinking about the possible implications of your words. You felt so bad for him, you wish you could make all of this go away for him.

“Baby, don’t say that,” you placed your hand on his cheek, “size doesn’t really matter. What matters is the love we feel for each other and I love you so much.” You two kissed once more demonstrating your love for one another.

“Do you trust me?” You gently asked him.

“I do, with all my heart.”

You switched places with him, this time you being the one on top, and gently pulled his sweatpants down. Then, you looked at him once more, waiting for his approval, and once he gave you a nod you pulled down his black underwear revealing his hard dick.

It wasn’t that bad. You honestly were picturing something way smaller than what was in front of you - something more like a finger - but as you looked at it and saw that it still had a good girth you were kind of relieved.

You looked at him, saw his concerned look, gave him a smile, grabbed his penis and gave it a gentle kiss. Jimin whimpered at the contact and you teased him further by giving it a series of licks.

“Please baby, don’t tease me, it’s...been a while.”

“I’m sorry,” you weren’t also in the mood for games, but you just couldn’t resist teasing him a bit. “Do you have a condom?”

“Here,” he moved to reach the top drawer of his bedside table and removed a pack of condoms. He opened the box, ripped out one of the foils and handed it to you.

You put his cock in your mouth, giving it a couple of sucks, for a last bit of teasing and rolled the condom on his dick. You then moved so your core would be right on top of his length and rubbed his tip back and forth through your folds before sliding it right inside of you.

“Hmm,” you both moaned in unison.

His dick felt different than the others you had experienced. It didn’t fill you to the brim, but it still felt good. Maybe to other girls, it wouldn’t be ideal, but to you, it was more than enough.

The way you two were making love to each other, the sweet kisses, the intense stares, the moaning of each other’s names, everything was more than perfect and you could honestly say you never felt more connected to a person in your entire life. It didn’t even matter to you the number of times he slipped off of you during sex, it just mattered that you were with him.

Jimin was near his climax and you could tell he was trying to hold it in as much as possible because you were still a bit far from it. But, out of nowhere, Jimin started rubbing your clit, giving you the edge you needed to finally come undone and make him release inside of you.

You remained in each other’s arms for a while, just panting and enjoying each other’s embrace, until Jimin pulled himself out of you and went to the bathroom to discard his condom. When he returned and lay right next to you, you couldn’t help but notice the nervous look on his face.

“Baby, it was fine,” you assured him.

“Yeah, but it kept falling out and I had to help you get there.”

“So?” You popped yourself on your elbow to get a better look of his face. “It matters way more to me that you did everything in your power to make me cum than if I could cum by your dick alone. Trust me, most women can’t even cum with sex alone.”

“So...it was good?” His puppy dog eyes were seriously killing you inside.

“Yes,” you kissed his lips as he started smiling, relief washing over his face, “it was good.”

“I love you so much,” he professed his love to you and you could say that it was making your heart explode.

“I love you too,” now he was the one kissing you and you wished for nothing more than to get lost in his lips for the whole day but the sound of your stomach growling made you come back to reality.

“Somebody’s hungry,” he booped your nose in an adorable gesture, “how about we leave this bed and go devour those pizzas?”

“Way ahead of you.”

a/n: I was inspired to do this fic due to the amounts of “huge dick” fics out there. Don’t get me wrong, I love huge dicks lmao, but I feel like it’s healthy to, once in a while, bring a small peen to the equation (or maybe even a freaking normal size). Girls and boys, don’t expect everyone to have huge dicks, it’s ok if they don’t <3

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xwing-baby · 3 years

Text

Impulse: El Ojo (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: swearing, injury to reader, alcohol and drug abuse, threatening with guns, brief mentions of torture, description of injury and blood, unwanted touching, flirting, bad thought processes (addiction). PINK SHIRT

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Had a little change of plan last week, this is now the final chapter of this series. I am so sad to end it now, I’ve loved writing this so much. My first time writing for Narcos so thank you so much for all the support y’all I’ve given me with this. I love you all. I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

<-- Previous Chapter // Masterlist // Next Chapter -->

You were on a winning streak. Since you’d found the list of sicarios and matched that up with the more current information, you’d presented it to Carrillo and surprisingly he was on board. With his help, you had brought down five, admittedly low level but increasingly more valuable, sicarios. If you didn’t think about the torture and abuse each of them undertook once captured, used to break them into more telling more information, you could say you were doing a good job. Escobar’s organisation was shaking. You were coming for him.

You and Steve leant against a wall, soaking up the sunshine chatting amongst yourselves when you saw Javier arrive. You hadn’t expected him to come at all, having disappeared without a word early on in the morning. He parked his truck close by, walking over to you and Steve with his vest in hand. You grinned and jabbed Steve when you saw the shirt Javi was wearing.

The pink shirt had been a long-standing joke since you’d found it in his closet a few months ago. He had many colourful shirts, was known for them, but the pink one always seemed like another level. You and Steve teased him about it constantly, though you had to admit it did look good on him now. Javi scowled when he saw you and Steve’s mischievous grins, immediately realising his mistake.

“I know you get called the Whore of Bogata but you don’t need to dress like it! Jesus christ Javi!” You fanned yourself with your hand, grinning at him, “really I’m going to need a minute,” Javi flipped you off as you laughed hard.

“Shut up, I look great,” He grumbled.

“Just thinking about the poor flamingo you rinsed for that colour,” Steve joined in the teasing, shaking his head sadly.

“You are just jealous you could never pull this colour off,” Javi said smugly. You laughed.

“Maybe you shouldn’t come out today, could be quite distracting,” You said, pretending to be thoughtful. Javi’s frowned, only making you and Steve laugh more, “Aw don’t get pissy, Baby. We love you really” You teased him in a mocking voice, pouting at him. “You and your flamboyant choices,” You ruffled his hair up as you passed him. He tried to duck out the way but you caught him. He shoved you away, muttering expletives under his breath. You skipped a few paces out of his reach, flipped him off.

“L/n!” Somebody called your name across the street, one of the technicians you’d been talking to before Javier arrived. You left Steve and Javier to talk.

The technician explained the problem again, showing you the options for moving forward. It was quite common that things would go wrong before any kind of mission. Today was no different, the technicians had lost a signal and were now not sure that the address you had swarmed was correct.

You chewed your nails while you thought. You could risk getting the wrong house, letting the sicarios know you were on to them and you’d lose them again. You could come back another day, but risk losing them again. Or you could ransack some innocent person's house and have Carrillo on your ass for ruining his reputation in the one week he’d left you in charge.

If you messed this up it would mean your stronghold would be lost. There would be time for them to work out what was going on and move everything again.

At a loss, you excused yourself needing to take a break and a few minutes alone to think without soldiers trying to put in their two cents.

As your work life had become more stressful over the last months. You had found some relief in, ironically, coke. It wasn’t a habit you were trying to form, but you had learnt just what good taking just a little bit could do for you. It quietened down your worried brain and made you simultaneously more aware of everything. You were better when you were just a little bit high.

You had started keeping a small amount in your pocket. Hidden in a small sewing tin in your jacket pocket, you had started keeping a little coke on you especially for moments like this. You could take it, have a breather, and come back with a solution. It was fine. Nobody would know.

You’d spotted a cafe across the road, and hoped they had a restroom. You gave an excuse to the soldier you’d been talking to and walked across the street.

“Oi Rookie!” Javi called as he noticed you walk past on the opposite side of the street. “Where are you going?”

“Going to the bathroom. Women’s issues,” You called back, Javi and Steve grimaced. That was always the best excuse.

While you wouldn’t do it at the compound you didn’t have any reservation here. You’d been itching for a hit all morning and there was only so much more you could take. You walked into the cafe, asked for the direction of the restroom, and locked the door behind you once you were inside. Small, dark and stinking of pee, it was not the best place but hygiene wasn’t particularly an issue you were worried about.

You tipped a small amount from the box onto the sink counter, lined it up with a card from your pocket, bent down and took it up your nose. You grimaced, while it had burnt your nose somewhat it still stung. But it was worth it when the feeling began to kick in. You smiled at your reflection and double-checked your appearance in the mirror, wiping your nose. Nobody could ever tell.

As usual, the drug kicked your brain into gear again and everything fell into place. The raid went brilliantly, by pure coincidence you’d bagged two sicarios in one as your original target had invited your next round for dinner with his new girlfriend. Your plan well into the swing of things now, much to everyone’s surprise.

—

Like every weekend for the last three months, you were going out. The line between enemies and friends was long since blurred, hanging out with ‘Isabela’s’ friends was not an issue. Most of the time you weren’t even trying to get anything from them, you’d got what you needed months ago. As fun as Javier and Steve were, it was much more enjoyable to hang out with people your age. And they wouldn’t give you cocaine, María had it on tap.

You were dressed up, recently treating yourself to a new outfit as a job well done. A black off the shoulder top, covered in lace, and a little black mini skirt. You felt sexy, you were going to have a very good night.

“Rookie!” Javier called out to you as he came out of the apartment building. You were standing outside waiting for a taxi, smoking a cigarette.

“Javi, baby, you’re looking slick! Where are you going?” You checked him out. He wore his signature tight blue jeans and an equally tight black shirt that was almost bursting at the seams. He looked incredible, as he always did.

You were thankful that things had gone back to normal between you and Javier. The awkward stepping around each other had gone, you weren’t jealous. You acknowledged you would probably always like him a little more than was professional but that had fallen into a fun flirty banter that more than anything just wound Steve up.

You found yourself calling him Baby more than his name, it’d started as a joke to get back at him for always calling you Rookie but now it was so commonplace people had stopped picking you up on it if it slipped out while you were working.

It was fun. You cared for each other, that was clear to even a blind man, but there was no romanticism to the relationship anymore. There was no need. It wasn’t good for either of you. You’d found a comfortable rhythm and were going to stick to it.

“Out,” He shrugged, “That’s a new top,”

“You noticed?”

“Course, can’t keep my eyes off you,” He purred, happily playing along with your game.

“Thought you’d be more interested in the skirt,”

“Will you two quit it?” Steve’s voice interrupted your flirting as he walked down the stairs. You barked in laughter.

“Steve! So it’s a boys night I see? Where was my invite?”

“Figured you’d have your own plans,” Steve said.

“And you are correct Murphy but it’s always polite to ask,”

“Next time,” He assured you. “Where are you going tonight?”

“I don’t know. Some club, El Ojo or something?” You shrugged, “Seeing as this is maybe Isabela’s last time out I am going to go out with a bang, literally,” You raised an eyebrow, insinuation of your worlds made Steve roll his eyes.

You were hoping within the next few weeks to be able to close in on some higher level sicarios and associates to Escobar. Drawing the noose in slowly so he wouldn’t notice until it’d choked him. That meant your position as Isabela was going to have to come to an end to keep you safe from your own program. You’d discussed it at length with Peña and Murphy, while you didn’t agree you had to listen to them. They were still your superiors after all, no matter how close friends you were.

“If you told past you you were going to willingly sleep with a Narco I think you would have passed out,” Steve laughed.

“I’m a changed woman Murphy, what can I say,” You smirked, “Imagine what I’ll be like by the end of the year,”

“God help us,” Javier shook his head, a smirk plastered on his face. You laughed and stubbed out your cigarette with your shoe as your taxi pulled around the corner.

“Here’s my ride. Have a good night, boys. I will be back in the morning,”

—

El Ojo was just as María had told you. Modern and smoke-filled, people were filling every inch of the space. You walked in and couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. This was exactly what you needed. Crowds were anonymous, nobody cared who you were or what you were doing. Everyone was just there for one reason, to have a good time.

You ordered a drink at the bar, flirting with the man next to you briefly before taking the drink and finding your friends. As usual, they were up in the VIP area, courtesy of the Parreño name. You walked up and were let inside the cordoned-off area to find Diego stood up on his seat, wild-eyed, shouting about something. It wasn’t until you got closer that you heard what he was saying.

“I’m telling you Isabela is lying!” He shouted above the music.

“What’s going on?” You asked. None of the ten people surrounding the booth noticed your approach, their eyes shifting awkwardly when they saw you.

“You! You’re a liar!” Diego pointed down at you, hatred burning behind his eyes.

“What is going on?” You asked again. You looked around for María, she was usually the one to step between you and Diego, but she was nowhere to be seen. This was not the kind of conversation you’d wanted for this evening.

“You were the only one to survive that raid at Carlos’,” He continued, jumping off the couch to your level, “That fucking maniac Carrillo killed everyone but you! You’re working with them, aren’t you?”

“You’ve lost it,” You rolled your eyes, “Completely lost it,”

“You don’t deny it!” He yelled. You gulped, trying not to look scared of the man but the rage in his eyes was shaking you. You stepped backwards as he advanced toward you

“You’re insane!” You laughed in his face, “I’m not a fucking spy, especially not for Carrillo,”

“Bullshit,” He spat, Suddenly he pulled a gun from his back, waving it in your face. People shouted and screamed around you, scattering as the metal glinted in the light. Your eyes remained on his, not saying a word as he pressed the barrel into your neck. You didn’t move, barely breathing, “You’re a fucking rat,” He growled.

“Diego!” Finally, María stepped in, running over when she heard the commotion. “Stop it, put it away. Idiot,” She pulled the gun from his hand, standing firmly between you and him. “Ignore him. He’s paranoid. Someone’s leaking information and he thinks it's you because he’s a jealous asshole,” Maria explained, swiftly pushing him backwards until he sat back in the booth again, “How fucking ridiculous would that be? You? A spy!”

“Insane,” You agreed through a clenched jaw. Diego continued to glare at you dangerously, leaning over to whisper something to a friend.

“I swear if we get banned from this club because of you Diego I am leaving you,” María said angrily, “Come on, I want to party,” She linked her arm through you, not caring that you were still in shock from having a gun held to you, and dragged you to the bar.

Fortunately, copious amounts of vodka and tequila were great for calming your nerves. In a few hours, you had nearly forgotten the entire ordeal. You couldn’t think about anything more than the music ringing in your ears and how good it felt dancing on the stranger behind you.

After a while, María pulled you back up to the booth where Diego and his friends were still sitting. You did your best to ignore him, chatting to one of the girls at the table instead. You laughed and did a few lines, generally relaxing into the evening. So relaxed you didn’t notice the newest member of the group until he finally addressed you.

“Don’t I know you?” You looked over and panic spread over you like a bucket of ice water over your head sobering you almost instantly. He did know you. The man before you was the first man you had arrested, almost six months ago. He must have been bailed out for jail.

“No,” You answered confidently. You didn’t lie. You didn’t know him, not really.

“Gabriel, sit down!” María cheered, “Isabela this is my cousin, Gabriel. Gabriel, Isabela,” She introduced you. Her cousin. Of course. You smiled politely, praying the dim lights would hide the nervous sweat that had overtaken you.

Gabriel looked confused but didn’t say anything if he did recognise you. Not that that would matter anyway, as soon as he spoke to Diego his memory would no doubt be jogged. If he found out you were a DEA agent you would be dead. You had to leave.

“Here take my seat, I’ve got to get some air for a minute,” You stood up, letting him take your place next to Maria. You caught Diego’s suspicious look as you walked past, spotting the nearest exit door.

Your hands were shaking, your body not sure what to do with itself. The cocaine and alcohol said to go back inside and take them all out. What was left of your rational brain was consumed by fear and kept you outside. It was bad enough if someone like Senator Parreño had suspicions about you but Diego? Gabriel? Diego had already shown he wasn’t afraid to threaten you in public. Of the two of them joined heads they would connect the dots and your cover would be blown wide open. So would you, you thought morbidly. Coke and anger never mixed well.

You took breathes of the warm summer air, leaning against the wall of the club as you tried to calm yourself down. You shouldn’t have taken the last shot, now verging over the edge of blacking out; your vision was spotty, sound not registering properly and your tongue felt heavy in your mouth.

You wondered if Steve and Javi were nearby, the fresh air having the opposite effect than you’d wanted. You would blackout and you were going to need help to get home if you did. But you didn’t recall either of the men telling you where they were going, they could be anywhere in the city.

Stumped for the moment, you decided to wait it out, lighting a cigarette hoping that might help sober you up. You pulled the packet from your purse

“Need a light?” A man appeared next to you, lighter in hand. You nodded and he flicked the flame up, you bent over and lit your cigarette between your teeth.

“Thanks,” You mumbled, turning away from him, hoping he would leave. He didn’t. Instead, the man continued to stare at you, following you into your personal space as you shuffled away from him.

“Can I help you?” You snapped, immediately getting a bad feeling about him. You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning at him.

“No need for that tone baby. Come on, I wanna talk to you,” He purred. His eyes dipped to your cleavage, a lustful look in his eyes.

“I’m not interested,” You said, stepping backwards away from the man. He seemingly didn’t hear you, continuing to get into your personal space, arms reaching out to grab your hips.

“You were interested earlier. Come on, baby,” He purred, pulling you close to him, pressing his hips against yours.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You yelled, pushing him off hard enough to make him stumble backwards.

“Fucking bitch,” He growled.

If you were sober the situation would have a very swift end. You would punch him square in the face and he would leave you alone, scuttling away with a broken jaw and a shattered ego. However, you were not in a state to do that now. He had the upper hand. All you could do was run, hoping once you were back amongst people he wouldn’t attack you. You looked up the alley, the open street was just a few feet away.

You bolted.

Unfortunately just as you didn’t have enough coordination to punch the man, you didn’t have enough to run in heels on the uneven floor. Not even ten foot away your legs wobble, heels falling into a pothole sending you forward. You fell into a dumpster, head hitting the corner of the metal with a thud. You yelped, vision going black for a moment as you lay on the concrete.

“Hey hey hey,” A man ran over, instantly scaring the man off of you. He knelt by your side and helped you up from where you’d fallen. You groaned and pushed yourself up, head throbbing harshly, warm liquid trickling down your face. Your world was spinning even with your eyes closed. “Y/n, Fuck are you okay?”

“Get off me!” You exclaimed, trying to push the stranger off, not that your shaking arms were very effective.

“Y/n hey it’s me, you’re okay!” You looked up and saw Steve through a haze of blurred vision. You squinted as something dripped over your eye. Steve then saw the cut to your head, “Oh shit,” Your eyes are glassy and blown out, you mumbled something to him and pushed yourself out of his reach again, wobbling and tipping backwards. He caught you before you hit the floor again. “Y/n what are you doing out here? Weren’t you with your friends?”

“Her brother was the first guy,” You said, your speech slurred so much Steve barely understood what you were saying.

“Rookie, you’re not making sense. What are you on about?”

“I’m so fucked,” You sighed, letting your head rollback. You giggled as the world spun.

“Yeah, I can tell, come on let’s get you home,” Steve stood up, holding his hands out to you and pulled you up to standing again.

“Where’s Peña?” You asked.

“At the bar,”

“I want to go talk to him, let’s go talk to him!” You exclaimed. You began to walk in the opposite direction, dragging Steve along by the arm. He pulled you back with ease.

“You can talk to him in the morning, we’re going home,” He insisted.

“But I have to tell him about the brother he’s going -,” Your rambling was interrupted as you threw up, barely missing Steve’s leg. He grimaced and jumped out of the way, “I have to talk to him,” You said quietly once you were done.

“Tomorrow, Kid,” He repeated himself.

You pouted, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes but you didn’t fight him. Despite how drunk you were you knew that going home would realistically be the best course of action right now. You could barely string a sentence together let alone get anything important out coherently.

Steve got you into a taxi, luckily the driver paid no attention to the blood dripping down your face. You were falling asleep on his shoulder as you pulled up to the apartment, Steve pulled you out of the car and up the stairs to the apartment. Only when he opened the door, he was met by Javier and Vanessa also on their way inside.

“Woah!” Javier instantly turned his full attention to you when he saw the state you were in, hanging onto Steve’s sleeve, “What happened?”

“Some guy tried to touch her up, she hit her head, I’ve got it covered,” Steve explained.

“Hey Baby,” You grinned, obviously giving Javi a once over.

“She doesn’t look alright,” Vanessa commented, “Did she just call you baby?”

“It’s a long story,” Javi dismissed the comment. “She doesn’t look okay,”

“I’ve got it covered. I’ll get her to throw up and get some water to sober her up,” Steve said, “We’ll be okay, won’t we Rook?”

“Fine and dandy!” You grinned.

“If you’re sure,” Javi said hesitantly. You were gone, hanging onto Steve’s arm to hold yourself up. Your eyes were blown out and blank, if you remembered anything in the morning it would be a miracle. His first reaction was to help you, not sure Steve could handle you alone. Steve wasn’t exactly sober himself, sinking a good few beers with Javier in the bar before he’d left. However, his decision was made for him as you and Steve began walking up the stairs, Vanessa’s hands were back on him and any worry was squashed as she dragged him into his apartment.

Upstairs, Steve took you into his apartment. He took you to the bathroom, sat you on top of the toilet and rooted around the medicine cabinet to find some cleaning supplies so he could patch up your bleeding head.

“Connie’s probably got something in here,” He rooted through the cabinet. Connie had gone back to Miami for the week to see her family, inconveniently right when her skills were needed. Steve’s tipsy attempt at first aid would have to do,“Ah-ha! Here we go, clean that cut out with this,”

“Ow!” You whined, flinching away from him quickly when he showed you the antiseptic bottle.

“I didn’t touch you,” Steve chuckled, “Hold still,” Carefully he poured the liquid over a cotton ball, took hold of your face in the other hand and dabbed the cotton on your cut.

“Ow! Steve that fucking hurt,” You complained, flinching away from him as the alcohol stung the wound on your head. You frowned at him, tearing up a little.

“Don’t be a baby,”

“I am a baby!” You exclaimed. Steve grabbed hold of you again, he needed to clean the wound if it was going to heal properly. You whined and hissed at him but eventually, it was clear.

“Look, all done, got the grit out,”

“Thanks, Steve,” You kissed his cheek quickly.

“You’re welcome,” He laughed awkwardly. “Come on, you can’t sleep on my toilet. Bedtime,”

“You’re not my type,” You scrunched your nose and leant away from him.

“Ouch way to break my heart Rook,” Steve chuckled, “No, you’re going to your own bed, by yourself,”

“It's so far away!” You whined.

“It's across the hall!” He copied your tone making you laugh.

Steve pulled you up from the toilet and managed to wrangle you across the hall. Half asleep, leaning into Steve before you even got inside the apartment, you fell into bed without protest. Steve pulled off your shoes, throwing them on the ground before stumbling back to his apartment to collapse in his bed.

—

Waking up in your apartment unsure of how you got there, was a strange feeling. What was even stranger was the harsh throbbing on your head. You blindly brought a hand to the sight, recoiling instantly as you touched something sore. You sat up, slowly opening your eyes to the daylight and looked at your reflection in the mirror opposite your bed.

You groaned when you saw the gash on your forehead. Dried blood sat in the creases of your neck, and underside of your jaw as well as being crusted into your hair. You tried to remember how you’d gotten the injury but came up blank. You couldn’t remember anything from the night before. Not unusual for your almost nihilistic habits, but it was concerning given the infliction.

You looked at the clock. 9 am. You’d slept in. Since you were up you decided to clean yourself up. You padded to your bathroom, wincing at the harsh light inside and the grinding sound of the extractor fan. You filled the sink with warm water and gently cleaned the blood from your face with a cloth, only once stopping to throw up into the toilet.

You showered, hot steam help clear your brain fog but not helping the cut on your forehead which now stung immensely. But that wasn’t the feeling you were concentrating on.

A new kind of hunger, one you weren’t yet familiar with had settled in on the back of your tongue. A repeating idea chanting over and over in your head. It had partly been cocaine’s fault you’d got into this mess, but it would get you out of this hangover now.

You remembered you had some in your jacket pocket from the day before, leftover. Once you’d thought about it there was no stopping you. You didn’t have to take it all, you could stop yourself if you wanted. You pulled the tin out from your coat, sit it down on your dressing table while you pulled on some clothes.

You sat back at the dressing-table again once you were done and stared at the box. You’d not done it here more than once or twice. Never by yourself. Something about being at home with it made you feel guilty, possibly because you were surrounded by your friends who also happened to be DEA agents who would kill you if they found the stuff in the building.

You picked up the box, contemplating it. You could get something done if you took it. Wouldn’t have to sit in your hungover state and wallow in self-pity until the headache left. You could go for a walk. Do nice things. Taking the cocaine would bring you nice things, as it always did.

You opened it.

“Morning,” Javier’s voice inside your apartment suddenly startled you, causing you to spill the contents of your box all over your dressing table.

“Fuck,” You swore out loud.

“Okay in there?” You regretted giving him a key. You did not need the interruption. His voice snapped you back to reality. You decided you didn’t have time, or rather not wanting to be caught red-handed, you decided to leave it and greet your surprise guest.

“Good morning,” You said brightly, opening and closing your bedroom door tightly behind you. Javier was standing in the middle of your living room, a book in hand flicking through it. He discarded it back to the coffee table where he’d found it when you appeared.

“Just wanted to check you were alright, you looked rough last night,” Javi said, “that cut looks sore,”

“It stings but it’ll be ok in a few days,” You shrugged. Javi looked at you strangely, “Did you come up here for something?” You asked.

“You don’t remember what today is?” He asked. You frowned and thought for a moment.

“It’s your birthday?” You asked slowly.

“No,”

“It’s my birthday?”

“I don’t know when you’re birthday is,”

“Javi I’ve obviously forgotten please just tell me,” You pleaded.

“Searchblok, you and Steve swapped. Remember?”

“Shit!” You exclaimed. How could you have forgotten?! You scrambled back into your room to get changed, boxer shorts and a hole-ridden t-shirt wouldn’t cut it.

“I should write you up for the mess you were in last night,” He called through the door as you rushed to get dressed, pulling on the nearest jeans on your floor. That’s not the only thing you should write me up for, you thought looking at the cocaine on your dressing table.

“I should write you up for sleeping with hookers,” You said back.

“Nowhere in my contract does it say I can’t! You however have a reckless behaviour clause,” He said. Your heart stopped at that, opening the door quickly to pop your head out.

“Javi-“

“I’m joking Rook, don’t worry!” Javier laughed. You rolled your eyes and shut the door again, pulling on a fresh shirt. A few seconds later you stepped out, buttoning the last of the clasps on your shirt. “I was worried about you but you’re fine so we’ll forget it ever happened,”

“Thanks, Baby,” You grinned at him. Javi rolled his eyes.

“You need to stop that though,”

“You love it,” You teased him. He didn’t reply, turning on his heel and walking out. You hesitated for a moment, glancing back at your bedroom door. The coke was still lined up in there, calling to you. It would only take a few seconds to do it and get rid of your hangover for a few hours.

“Rookie, hurry up!” Javi called you from the hallway, audibly impatient. You decided against it, grabbing your keys and a jacket and running to catch up with him. He was already waiting by the truck by the time you got downstairs. “Did anything interesting happen last night, then?” Javi asked. You tried to think for a moment, you remembered something important had happened, something you’d wanted to tell him last night but you couldn’t remember what. You shrugged.

“Apart from getting this,” You gestured to the injury to your forehead, “I can’t remember. There was something but I don’t know,”

“Can’t have been very important then,” Javi added. You shrugged and shook your head.

“Guess not,”

Next Chapter -->

Finally we’ve come full circle, I am so sad it’s over I have absolutely loved writing this series. Again I want to say a massive thank you to everyone’s that read the series, it means more than you could imagine. I love you all. I’m going to have a cry and make a start on all the other things I’ve been neglecting to write this.

The ending is already written and posted so if you haven’t read it go enjoy :))

tag list: @beskar-falcon @peterssweetpea @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @wille-zarr @danniburgh @rentheisopod @urbankaite2 @whataloadofmalarkey @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus @sara-alonso @xiao-lusi @all-good-things-have-an-ending @eternallyvenus @ajeff855 @mayangel19 @1950schick @pedrosmustache @wantingtobekorra @balmasedas @angelsunflxwer @brujademente @kingsmanandqueens @igotissueswithfictionalmen

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raleighcarrera · 3 years

Text

what we do

the royal masquerade | kayden vescovi x mc (juliet rosario)

queen juliet rosario and former crown shield kayden vescovi meet up somewhere no one knows who either of them are. for @trmaw ❤️

~2.2k words | T

the sun was high in the sky when juliet stepped out of her carriage, though the light fabric of the casual dress she was wearing helped keep her cool as her feet hit the pavement.

there was no one with her to aid with her skirt as she moved about, no guards or security tending to the horses in an attempt to act casual while they continued to observe her.

it was just her and the driver, out in town, but soon enough, there’d be someone else meeting them, too.

soon enough she’d see kayden again.

they’d parked on the outskirts of a market, and as she made her way through the stalls no one spared her a glance -- there wasn’t a single flicker of recognition in any passing townsperson’s gaze for the queen of cordonia.

that made the long journey she’d endured worth it all on its own.

wandering deeper into the market, she allowed herself to be swallowed up by the crowd, reveling in the simple freedom of walking around unattended, something she was never permitted to do at home.

life had become almost unbearably structured, as of late. she hardly had a moment to herself to breathe, let alone an entire afternoon to disappear. so she planned on taking advantage of every last second she’d have masquerading as a commoner, and that started with exploring the wares around her while she waited for kayden.

“miss?” her pulse stuttered as a vendor called out to her, certain she’d been caught. juliet turned slowly and relaxed as she saw it was only a young man at a flower stall, surrounded by dozens of brilliant blooms. he waved her over, and she went to him with a smile, happy to give him a sale.

but when she stopped in front of the stall, he didn’t try to sell her on any of the bouquets he had available. instead, he presented her with one wrapped set of roses and daisies and the deepest grin she’d seen in a long time. “a gentleman was here earlier,” the vendor explained, as she carefully took the flowers from his hands, “he said to give these to the most beautiful woman at the market, and that i’d know when she arrived.”

juliet scoffed, staring down at the bouquet she was holding in disbelief. she could feel her face grow hot as she looked up to glance around the market.

kayden was already here, then. somewhere.

“thank you,” she said, trying not to sound too flustered as she dipped her head to breathe in the sweet scent of the flowers. “they’re gorgeous, but are you sure they’re for me?”

“quite sure.” juliet stilled, realizing the boy at the stall’s mouth hadn’t moved. no, the deep voice who’d said the words was one she’d recognize anytime, anywhere.

she turned slowly and met kayden’s eyes, feeling her rapidly beating heart jerk to an abrupt stop.

kayden smiled softly at her as their eyes locked. “i knew he wouldn’t fail me,” he said, stepping closer. “it’s hardly a competition.”

the bustle of the market around them faded into the background as she moved forward, too, to meet kayden, shifting the flowers she was holding into one arm so her free hand could reach for his. “it’s good to see you,” juliet said quietly, biting back a sigh as kayden’s fingers twined with hers, the simple and innocent brush of skin on skin immensely comforting. “thank you for the gift.”

kayden lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the ridge of her fingers before gently leading her away from the flower stall. “it was nothing,” he said, “i’m glad it worked out.”

there was a pause as they paced back towards the outskirts of the town square. she knew they were both thinking the same thing -- how impossible it’d be for kayden to do anything as lovely for her, back home. how relegated he’d been to a private life, how they were barely even able to look at each other, anymore.

juliet shook her head, determined to cast the dark thoughts from her mind. this was not the time nor the place for such a discussion. their outings were few and far between; there should be nothing to taint them.

they reached a stone fountain out of view from most of the market. she glanced up and saw that the driver who’d accompanied her for security was nearby but doing his best to give her privacy, and relaxed as they both sat on the ledge. kayden moved to take the flowers from her and set them aside, then grasped her other hand, too.

“it is a gift, to see you,” he murmured, seeming to realize he’d failed to say as much, earlier. “i’ve missed you terribly since we were last together.”

it had been quite some time. fabian had left the kingdom for foreign relations with a neighboring province and she’d been able to spend the night at hunter’s without drawing raised eyebrows. fortunately, hunter had remained a good and loyal friend in addition to his standing as her policy advisor, allowing she and kayden to meet in secret and revel in the luxury of privacy.

but that was nearly an entire month ago. her heart ached as she studied the weary lines of kayden’s face, his expression set with longing. how unfair, that a soul as vibrant as his should be forced to wait around for the half-romance she could afford him.

it seemed even being queen could not solve all injustices in the world.

“i’ve missed you far more than you know,” she agreed, her voice tight with emotion. juliet blinked, leaving her eyes shut momentarily to try to dispel some of the thick sadness shrouding her voice. the last thing they needed now was for kayden to be stuck comforting her on their one afternoon alone.

but when she fluttered her lashes back open she saw him still smiling patiently, fondness in his eyes, and that just made her heart ache worse.

“tell me you’ve been well,” he prompted, drawing a chuckle from her despite herself. only kayden could worry about whether she was eating or sleeping enough in the palace.

“as well as expected, without you.” his hands squeezed hers tightly, the rough pad of his calloused thumb dragging across the backs of her knuckles. part of him seemed almost pleased to hear she was unwell without him, though she knew she could hardly blame him for that. in her more selfish moments, she felt the same way. “and yourself?”

“the same,” kayden said quietly. though his lips were only slightly turned up at the corners, she could read the smile in his eyes perfectly, and marveled at how intuitive his once-stoic face now felt to her. after so long spent studying kayden, it seemed she could read him now with just a glance. so there was no missing the slight nervousness on his expression when he said, “i have some news.”

“oh?” juliet tried to keep her voice light even as her mind raced with possibilities. she couldn’t help but to assume the worst -- that kayden was leaving cordonia, that he was no longer interested in a secret relationship, that he was sick...

seemingly sensing her hesitation, kayden squeezed her hand comfortingly. “hunter is reinstating me as his head of security.”

she blinked. “he is?”

kayden’s lips spread into a real smile, then. he nodded. “he feels the decision will be well supported after some of the recent attention.”

hunter was probably right. over the last year, kayden had been working tirelessly with the local orphanage, relocating many of the children and providing resources for the rest. he’d spent hours doing work her administration barely took an interest in, despite her pushing. he’d very nearly singlehandedly led the effort to fix the problems from the inside out.

juliet was quiet momentarily as her head spun with the news. kayden’s return to his former role meant he’d be around more, certainly, and in an approved context. it would no longer seem suspicious to be seen with him; there would be a reason for him to be at the palace.

but it also meant he’d return, more prominently, to the public eye. the people would have a chance to get used to him again, to come around after they’d once turned their backs.

and that opened up a variety of possibilities.

she had to actively work not to get carried away by the news. she knew she couldn’t allow herself to be too excited just yet; possibilities always came with challenges and this new development was sure to bring problems along for the ride, too.

but the spark of hope she felt was thrilling regardless. her own face split with a grin, and juliet moved to clasp both of kayden’s hands together in hers. “he’s absolutely right. that’s wonderful news. for both of us, of course, but... for you especially. i can’t think of anyone more deserving.”

her nagging guilt flared up again. for so long, she’d stewed over the fact that she was in the palace while kayden faced derision, when all he’d ever done was protect her in an effort to help cordonia. the public that despised him had no idea how much he’d sacrificed for their benefit, so that she could lead them to a brighter future.

thoughts of what more she could do to help him kept her up at night. she’d spent many hours planning ways to both steal time with kayden and work to help him without drawing attention, and finally felt a small step towards justice had been taken.

“it will be nice to get back to what i am familiar with,” kayden said humbly, but the bashful look on his face said he was pleased by her recognition. “and of course there’s the added benefit of getting to spend more time with you.”

one of his hands lifted to gently brush a lock of hair off her forehead. he leaned in closer, his eyes intense. “just being able to see you will put my heart at ease, juliet. finally i’ll have a break from wondering about you with my every thought.”

without pausing to spare a glance around the square, she leaned in and kissed him, pressing in close. the overwhelming affection within her swelled and burst as the familiar scrape of kayden’s stubble scratched her skin, the passion in his kiss so comforting she let herself drown in it greedily.

his hands tangled in her hair, pulling the careful curls out of shape. carelessly, juliet wound her arms around him, too, drawing closer and closer until there was nowhere else to go. she only realized she’d groaned into his mouth when kayden’s teeth caught her bottom lip in answer, clutching her body tighter to his.

she was suddenly desperate to be somewhere more private, and as kayden made it his mission to steal every last breath from her lungs she wondered if it would be inappropriate to drag him back to the carriage she’d taken into town so they could be alone. but her decision was made for her as kayden pulled back, eyes as bright as the smile that was still fixed on his face.

“i came here to hear your voice,” he said, laughing shortly, “i shouldn’t waste all our time together this way.”

“oh, but it’s very welcome,” juliet assured him with a grin, catching his mouth in one last soft kiss before drawing back with a content sigh. “hardly a waste at all. i know what you mean, though.” many of her dreams at the palace simply revolved around just spending time with kayden as they used to. who knew how long it would be before they would have some time alone together again?

she knew it would be slow going -- that it would take time for the public to get used to kayden again, that it might never be possible for her to establish what she had always wanted, from the very moment she made her first bid at queen...

...but it was hard to care when the here and now was so alluring, the man seated before her appearing so effortlessly as everything she’d ever wanted.

her teeth bit at her sore bottom lip as she observed kayden from beneath her lashes. he was looking back at her fondly, in a way that made her pulse gallop. “well, we do have the whole day,” she mused, humming as he took her hands gently in his again.

the sunny smile he was sporting boosted her own mood significantly. “let’s make the most of it, then,” kayden suggested, standing to pull her up, too.

juliet’s gaze swept the town square and the market beyond it, alive with food and strangers and opportunity, a rare luxury for two people who lived with secrets such as they did.

there was much to take advantage of, and the sun was high in the sky. she couldn’t think of a more advantageous situation to be in.

“let’s,” she agreed, gathering herself and her flowers to follow kayden back to life beyond their hiding place, her hope renewed.

#trmaw #kayden vescovi #the royal masquerade #kayden vescovi x mc #myfic #long post

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