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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

eve, what i would not GIVE to read one of our boys being edged within the very last inch of his life (if you have time of course and would like to !)

Of course I have time! Please enjoy some questionable decisions and skinny jean worship. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for semi-public smut, mentioned mild injury, alcohol, and tears (the good kind)

The second they were out of view, Sirius pushed Remus against the wall and shoved both hands up his shirt with reckless abandon. “Jesus—Christ,” Remus said between frantic kisses, leaving a bite on his lower lip. “Impatient, much?”

“Off,” Sirius demanded, though it came out as more of a pathetic plea as he slid one hand down to cup Remus’ ass.

“We’re in public,” Remus mumbled against his lips.

“Don’t care.”

“You’re gonna break my ass if you keep squeezing that hard.”

Sirius whined into his mouth and pushed their hips together. “Skinny jeans.”

“I fucking knew it,” Remus said with a grin. “Come on.”

“Wh—” A hand closed around his wrist and Remus dragged him down the hallway at a run, his face bright with excitement and flushed with arousal. Sirius had been looking forward to a heavy makeout session and maybe a handjob in the hall, but he couldn’t bring himself to protest when letting Remus haul him around meant he could stare at the best ass the world had ever seen for a few moments longer. Want, he thought. Want that. Now.

Remus opened a door on the left with clumsy fingers and pulled him inside with a hand on the back of his neck; as soon as the door shut, he broke away from the kiss and hurried over to the desk. “Two seconds,” he panted.

“I…okay?” Sirius leaned back against the door in confusion. They were in the PT room—he’d know that place anywhere, even through his lust-addled haze—and Remus was stealing Layla’s chair. “Why do you need that?”

“I really hope she didn’t find it,” Remus muttered to himself as he stood on the seat and stretched to reach the gap between the built-in shelves and the ceiling. After a moment of befuddling silence, his face split into a grin. “Got it.”

“Can I kiss you now?” Sirius asked.

“You can do more than that,” Remus said, hopping down from his perch. He tossed a small tube across the room and swaggered over, obviously proud of himself. Sirius frowned at the tube; it was too dark to read the label, but it seemed familiar.

Realization struck just as Remus reached him. “Is this lube?”

“Yup.”

“You keep lube in Layla’s office?”

“I kept lube in my office,” Remus corrected, wrapping his hands in the front of Sirius’ shirt and turning them so his own back was against the door. “And I forgot about it until five minutes ago. Thank god she’s short.”

“Why?”

Remus sighed through his nose. “Because I was horny and ever-hopeful, and maybe I harbored a fantasy or two about fucking on the desk. Does it matter?”

Sirius wasn’t sure his eyebrows could creep any higher. “Was that—are we going to—?”

“Are you kidding? Hell no. I’m not desecrating Layla’s desk. However, we are going to be fucking against this door, so if you would kindly take your shirt off, it would be appreciated.”

Sirius paused, then wrenched his shirt over his head so fast he nearly tore the fabric, crowding closer to Remus to drown in his kisses and his hands roving Sirius’ bare skin. He was practically vibrating with anticipation—Remus wasn’t the only one with fantasies about exciting times in the PT room, but until that moment Sirius had been sure his own were nothing more than a pipe dream.

Except this pipe dream seemed awfully real, and it came equipped with skinny jeans.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he murmured into the side of Remus’ neck, gripping his waist tight over the denim as their hips rocked together. “You and your legs.”

Remus pulled his face up for another openmouthed kiss as his hand snuck down to undo Sirius’ belt, fumbling with the clasp and button before yanking the zipper open. “What are you going to do about it, captain?”

New voices echoed in the hall outside and they both went still, though Remus’ smile didn’t falter in the slightest. Sirius quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to have to be quiet.”

“I can be quiet.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it hard for you.”

“I’m always hard for you,” Remus teased, leaning back against the door with a huff as Sirius bit down on the junction of his shoulder. “Now come on, slowpoke, I didn’t get that lube down for nothing.”

Sirius made a disgruntled noise into his skin and smacked him lightly on the thigh; Remus just laughed, though it was more breathless than before. The clear outline of his dick stood out in his skinny jeans and Sirius rubbed his palm over the shaft with steady pressure until Remus’ exhales trembled and his feet began to shuffle on the linoleum. “What if I want to see you come all over those skinny jeans?”

“No,” Remus whined, bucking his hips as Sirius traced the head. “Fuck, Sirius, I gave you the lube for a reason.”

“I could blow you.” He carefully undid the front button and slid the zipper down at a snail’s pace. He could feel his own heartbeat in his dick already, but shoved that thought to the back of his mind. “Return the favor after all that time in here?”

Remus grumbled into the dip of his shoulder, then leaned away to glare. “Either fuck me or I’ll do it myself.”

“You don’t want my mouth?”

“I want your mouth on me and your dick in me,” he fired back, though Sirius could see the playfulness in his eyes as he pulled Sirius’ lower lip between his teeth. “Get with the program, captain.”

Sirius nuzzled into his cheek, leaving a kiss by the corner of his mouth. “Will you wear these every day?”

“You like them?”

He moved his hands from Remus’ hips back his ass, grabbing a handful of each side with a hum. “You look like a walking wet dream.”

“Then do something about it.”

“Ask nicely.”

“I stood on a chair to get you lube,” Remus snorted. “That’s pretty damn nice.”

“Say ‘please’.”

“Why?”

“Because otherwise I’ll keep doing this until you can’t take it anymore.” Sirius begrudgingly moved one hand back around to hold Remus’ dick through his pants; he shifted, brows pitching, before he sighed.

“Then do something about it please.”

A thrill raced white-hot through Sirius’ stomach and up his spine, and he slipped both hands under the high waistband to slowly drag them down Remus’ thighs, revealing first his boxers, then miles of golden skin. “Off,” he said quietly when they reached his ankles. Remus’ throat bobbed and he kicked first his shoes off, then his jeans. Sirius tossed his own aside as well and began the all-important removal of Remus’ henley. “You should wear this more often, too.”

Remus cleared his throat. “Yeah, okay.”

“Wasn’t that easy?” Sirius didn’t give him the chance to respond—his lips were looking far too kissable to worry about things like that, especially when the snark melted out of Remus on a slow breath when their lips met. More people ran by outside, but he didn’t care. They had no lights on, and he would make sure they were quiet enough. “Up.”

Remus pushed down on his shoulders just as Sirius caught him by the thighs and hoisted him up against the door; some of the dizzying arousal on his face gave way to a giddy smile. “I love it when you do that. Which leg d’you want me to keep down?”

Sirius smiled and nudged their noses together. “Neither.”

A beat of silence fell over the room. “But…I won’t have leverage.”

“And?”

“And I need leverage.”

“Says who?” Sirius dipped his fingertips under the waistband of Remus’ boxers and kissed the confusion off his face. “I can hold you.”

His breaths turned shallow with anticipation; Sirius snapped the elastic against his skin before pulling it down, down, down over the curve of his ass and the muscle of his thighs as they clenched around his waist. He did have to set him down for a moment to get both their boxers off, but within moments Remus’ heartbeat was pounding next to his shoulder again and Sirius was in perfect range to lean up and kiss him.

The lube was small enough that he could open it with one hand and squeeze it directly onto Remus’ cleft, making him jolt with a hushed curse. Sirius capped it again and tossed it onto the closest table, still supporting Remus with one arm under him and their hips pressed flush together. He gathered some of the lube onto his fingers and circled his hole before sliding in—he didn’t stop at the first knuckle to let Remus adjust and instead kept pushing until the whole digit was inside.

Remus’ mouth fell open slightly; he tried to rock down for more, but he couldn’t do much other than tighten his thighs around Sirius. “Leverage.”

“You don’t need it.”

“Can’t move,” Remus whined, squirming until a second finger started moving in beside the first. A shiver rolled through him when Sirius crooked them; outside, the music from the party was still making the wooden door tremble. Earlier in the night, he had fantasized about ditching the team party to spend the night with a pair of glorious legs thrown over his shoulders—now, he knew there was no better way to avoid Harzy’s godawful spiked punch than fucking his boyfriend in said boyfriend’s previous office.

“How much do you want to feel it?” Sirius asked as Remus buried his face in his neck.

“Game,” he managed around a moan as Sirius found his sweet spot. “Can’t—need to be okay for the game—god fuck there.”

The music softened for a moment as the songs switched and Sirius shushed him. “Quiet, mon coeur, they’ll hear you.”

Remus bit down hard on his lower lip to stifle the answering choked whine, and Sirius took his fingers out to gently pull it free. Remus had bitten his lip bloody trying to keep quiet before, but tonight wasn’t about how rough they could be. It was about giving him a taste of what those skinny jeans did to Sirius, and making sure he never forgot it. “Put it back,” Remus pleaded. “Put it back.”

“Nice and slow,” Sirius soothed. “We’ve got a game, you said it yourself. Have to make sure you’re relaxed.”

Remus closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, toying with the hair at the nape of Sirius’ neck. This is going to be fun, Sirius thought as he pushed two fingers back in. Very, very fun.

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

“Storage closet,” Nado confirmed as he plopped down next to James on one of the leather couches in the game room. “Could hear ‘em from all the way down the hall.”

“Hey, I get it,” James said with a shake of his head. “Nat was in Florida for, like, two weeks. I miss Lily after two days. Kudos to them for finding a place to fuck without actually ditching the party.”

Nado took a swig of beer. “What’s the tally?”

“Cubs in the break room, Cap and Loops…somewhere, and now Nat and Kasey in the storage closet.” James counted on his fingers. “Sounds like a damn successful party to me.”

“Amen.” Nado clinked their bottles together. “I bet you a Kinder egg Cap and Loops are in the PT room.”

“Deal.”

“Pay up, then, ‘cause I heard them while I was walking back.”

“Aw, come on,” James complained. “That’s so not fair!”

“Thunk, thunk, thunk,” Nado mimicked with a grin. “The Kinder egg is for emotional support.”

“Cheater,” James muttered.

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

“Oh, fuck, there,” Remus panted, tilting his head back as Sirius canted his hips forward for the next thrust. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want.” Sweat dripped down Sirius’ temple and he wiped it on his shoulder without breaking pace; he had been holding Remus up with the help of the door for over ten minutes, and he was finally starting to feel a slight burn. Remus’ turned his face to the side as his whole body tensed, bracing against the doorjamb with one arm and gripping under Sirius’ shoulder with the other.

“Anything,” he moaned.

“You have to be quiet, mon loup.” Sirius nosed along the glistening expanse of Remus’ neck, leaving bites and kisses in his wake.

“I can’t.”

“Be good for me.”

“ ‘m trying, promise.” Remus’ shaking thigh dug into his waist as he tried to breathe through it, only for a whimper to escape when Sirius sucked a mark beneath his collarbone.

“I can make you, if I have to.”

He heard Remus’ breath catch, hitching between thrusts, and Sirius kept one hand on each side of his ass to support him. He locked his ankles at the small of Sirius’ back with a soft noise. “My mouth, I—your neck, please, please, I can’t reach.”

“I can’t get you—” He broke off with an oh of his own as Remus tightened around him. “—close enough, not like this.”

“Fuck,” Remus huffed. His teeth slid over his lower lip again; an idea sprang to life in Sirius’ mind.

“You want something in your mouth, mon amour?”

“Yes, yes, pl—”

Sirius interrupted him by sliding two fingers into his mouth, muffling the answering moan. “Is that good?”

Remus nodded enthusiastically, running his tongue over the pads of Sirius’ fingers. The burn in his right arm grew a bit more intense without the help of the left to keep Remus up, but the change in position seemed to be doing something good—Remus’ eyes fluttered shut and his abs jumped at the feeling. Sirius’ fingertips buzzed with each sound he pulled from him, each slurred plea, each choked groan as Remus’ lips turned cherry red around them. The party was still roaring, but in the darkness of the PT room there was nothing but them and the door.

“Can you come like this?” Sirius asked, speeding up his pace by a degree. He didn’t want his arm to seize and drop Remus, but he wasn’t too keen on stopping the waves of pleasure crashing down his spine, either.

Remus paused, then nodded with some hesitation. “Dunno,” he managed around Sirius’ fingers. “Tired?”

“Just my arm,” Sirius admitted with a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I’m okay right now, though.”

“Mhmm—” Remus cut off with a sharp gasp and a series of short inhales; his hands dug into Sirius’ back muscles and he sucked hard on the digits pressing his tongue down.

“Like that?” Sirius circled his hips again and Remus’ eyes unfocused for a second as his dick twitched. “D’accord.”

After that, it was almost too easy. Sirius closed his eyes and kept his face tucked against the side of Remus’ neck as he shook closer to the edge with every passing moment, focusing less on the burn of his arm and more on the wet warmth around his fingers. A few stray tears of overwhelming pleasure dripped down Remus’ cheeks as he pushed back as best he could and Sirius hitched him higher up the door, kissing away the tracks. Within moments, their heartbeats and breaths were the only thing he could hear.

Remus mumbled some form of his name and Sirius pulled away from the collection of hickeys forming on his neck to kiss him on the side of the mouth; with great effort, Remus raised an unsteady hand and pulled Sirius’ away from his mouth. “Almost there,” he breathed, voice wound wire-taut. “Almost.”

“You earned it. À tout moment.” Any time. Remus’ face scrunched, his knee slid up to Sirius’ ribcage, and then Sirius wrapped his spit-slick hand around his shaft and he came with a shuddering exhale, gripping the backs of Sirius’ shoulders like his life depended on it as he swallowed his moans.

He was hot and tight and Sirius could feel both their rabbit-quick pulses—he moved both hands back to Remus’ ass and kept his face pressed close to his neck as he came with a bitten-back whine, his knees nearly giving out under him. As soon as his vision stopped blurring, he set Remus down and they both sank to the floor. “Holy shit,” Remus said at last, leaning his head on Sirius’ arm.

“Holy shit,” Sirius agreed.

Remus sat up and ran a hand down his face, using his abandoned shirt to wipe away the sweat and tearstains. “Thanks for sneaking into my old office for mindblowing sex.”

Sirius wasn’t sure his lungs would ever be at full capacity again. “No problem.”

They both laughed at that, then found they couldn’t stop. It took three full minutes for Sirius to catch his breath again, and the first thing he did was press a gentle kiss to Remus’ lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sirius said with a smile. “Do you think they miss us yet?”

“Are you kidding?” Remus snorted. “They probably haven’t realized we’re gone. Kasey and Nat ran off a good ten minutes before us, too, so it’s not like we did some scandalous new thing.”

“And alcohol.”

“And alcohol.” Remus pulled one of Sirius’ arms over his shoulders and cuddled into his side with a contented hum. “We’re going to have to clean this door, but I don’t think I can move yet.”

“Did you also store water and snacks in here, by chance?”

“I already feel bad about ruining Layla’s door. I’m not emotionally prepared to steal her food, too.”

“We can sneak to the bathroom in cinq minutes,” Sirius said, checking Remus’ watch with a yawn. “Dix minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” Remus repeated sleepily. “Then I’ll see if I can get those jeans on again.”

“Don’t remind me,” Sirius groaned.

“If that’s what happens when I wear them, those skinny jeans are staying on until I’m dead. Bury me in them.”

“Noted.”

A rapid knock on the door didn’t get even a flinch out of either of them. “Occupied,” Remus called.

“Dix minutes,” Sirius added as he closed his eyes. “Dix minutes.”

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #james potter #jackson nadeau #nado #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #cubs #my fic #fanfic #smut #semi-public #pt room

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fandomficsnstuff · 3 years

Text

Healer - Part 2

Ivar x Modern!Reader

(Warnings: I don’t think there are any warnings, but let me know if I’m wrong)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn’t stop running, not until you were forced to, a branch catching your foot, making you fall and scrape your knee on a sharp rock. You silently sobbed, not because of the pain but because you had no idea where you were, you were alone in a foreign place with foreign people, strange things were happening and it finally broke you. You pulled your knees to your chest as it began to rain, hugging them tightly against you as you sobbed, ignoring the blood that spilled from the cut on your knee, mixing with the rain that ran down your body and soaked you completely. You weren’t sure how long you sat on the forest ground, ignoring the cold rain, but you had stopped crying, blankly staring at the ground in silence as nothing but the sound of rain hitting the ground and surrounding forage filled your ears. You think you heard voices but you didn’t care, you felt alone and tired, you had no one, and the extremely sad part? You didn’t really think anyone back home would miss you. You didn’t have any family left, no real friends, not even at work or in the apartment you lived in, no one would miss you, no one would look for you. The thought caused another wave of fresh tear to form in your eyes, but before they had a chance to fall you heard footsteps, looking up you saw Ubbe and Hvitserk, looking down at you with sympathetic looks.

You let Hvitserk pick you up bridal style and carried you back to Kattegat, the whole way you were quiet, just staring at nothing in particular as they carried you inside the big hall, eyes on you as they placed you in front of the fire, Hvitserk attempted to give you his fur coat but you just brushed it off, staring at the flames with an empty look on your face. You knew they were just trying to help but you didn’t want their help, maybe it was selfish, but you just wanted to be alone. You felt a cough work it’s way up your throat, making you cough into the crook of your elbow as you continued to stare blankly at the flames in front of you. Ubbe next tried to get a fur coat over you but you rejected that as well “leave me alone…” you quietly asked, even though you knew they didn’t understand you. You pulled your knees to your chest again and curled up in a ball, watching the flames as tears silently rolled down your cheeks, your face void of emotion, even as some soup was placed in front of you, probably in an attempt to warm you up, but you were just fine with the flames licking your skin, it’s what should have happened so long ago, right? Why not now? Next Björn entered, whispering something to the others and you felt their eyes on you.

Björn approached and kneeled down in front of you, his eyes soft despite how cold his face seemed. “The seer told me” he said in broken english, making you look at him with a slight frown “he did not… talk much. But talk enough” he said, looking at you with slightly raised brows, as if asking if you could understand him. You gently nodded and Björn did so as well, glancing at the others before looking back at you with a softer expression “you eat, yes? Get strong, learn, speak like us. Then we speak, good?” he asked and for a second you didn’t answer, looking into the flames before hesitantly taking the soup and the spoon that was given to you, hesitantly eating what was served to you, taking tiny slurps from the soup, reluctant but obeying nonetheless. Björn nodded and got up, taking the fur coat you had refused to wear and put it over your shoulders gently, walking out of the hall and leaving you alone with the others.

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

Months, it had been months since you had arrived here, and slowly everything was starting to seem more real. You had learnt most of their language by now, their customs, their ideas, it all made you think that these people were actually real life vikings, that you had actually somehow gone back in time. You were standing outside the same tent that made you run away in fear all those months ago, taking a deep breath, glancing nervously at Hvitserk who gave you a reassuring smile before walking away to join his brothers at the hunting cabin, prompting you to enter cautiously, as though the whole place was booby trapped. You couldn’t help but glare at the old man, the Seer, everyone called him, as he sat there, smirking as he heard you enter, or perhaps he knew you would enter long before even you did. “You’re back” he said in his raspy voice, knowing you had learnt their language by now, so he didn’t bother cutting your hand again, thankfully. “I’m just as surprised as you” you mumbled sarcastically, venom dripping from your every word but the man just cackled like last time, prompting you to roll your eyes “how do I get home?” you asked, not wanting to play any games, the man continued to cackle as though your question was the funniest thing he had heard in a long time “you are home, young healer” he cackled and you considered strangling him, but you took an oath to do no harm, so you took a deep breath and calmed yourself “I mean where I came from, I have a work there, an apartment, I have a life that I need to get back to” you tried to make him sympathise with you, a frown on your face as you watched his face fall, smile fade and laughter quiet until there was nothing but the wind outside.

“You think you are missed?” he asked and that caught you off guard, you bit your lower lip and gently shook your head, looking down sadly “I know I’m not… but I have responsibilities, I’m not meant to be here, some mistake has happened” you tried to reason with him but when you looked up he blew something in your face, making you cough as you shut your eyes tightly, coughing as you inhaled it and suddenly you felt your body hit the ground as you continued to cough, you couldn’t even get the words out to ask ‘what have you done to me?’ before you were out like a light, darkness enveloping around you, it felt odd, like you were floating.

You woke up with a gasp, laying on a sofa in the doctor’s lounge, your eyes scanning the room but it was empty, you heard people outside the room, walking by and chatting, a few pages going off here and there as you took your time to ground yourself, your feet carefully hitting the ground as you slowly stood up, cautious of your surroundings as you opened the door and walked out, almost bumping into someone but you moved at the last second. It was like the person didn’t see you, and when you turned to face another, snapping your fingers in front of her, you realised that they actually didn’t see you, a dark feeling settling in your stomach. You frowned and walked the hallways of the hospital, coming upon the same man you had treated, your last patient before you turned up wherever you were now, he was arguing with someone inside and when you walked in you saw none other than Clive, the same co-worker who was all too eager to claim all the credit for your work. You glared at him before listening in on their argument.

You sighed as you realised what Clive was telling Peter, the man who was your patient the day you vanished. He was spouting all this bullshit about how insurance wouldn’t cover his recovery, even though he was brought in on an emergency and you had checked his insurance yourself before he even went into surgery. You wanted to scream at Clive, you wanted to yell at him for being so rude, for lying to a patient and for being so heartless, you wanted to have his medical license taken away and you wanted him to act like the grown man he was supposed to be. But you couldn’t do anything but watch as Clive heartlessly talked to Peter, who couldn’t do anything but take it. You leaned against the wall and felt tears form in your eyes at the frustration you felt, maybe you were dead… maybe you were dead and in some twisted sense of irony you got back home but as a ghost or something, a spirit maybe. Whatever it was, you wanted out of here, you actually began to miss Kattegat, here you felt alone and lonely, you were surrounded by people, none of them saw you, heard you, even felt your presence as you walked through the hospital. You got to the top of the hospital, sitting down on the edge of the roof, eyes straight ahead as you didn’t dare look down, your back slumped as you considered if this was a terrible nightmare or real, either way, you couldn’t die, right? Forcing yourself to look down you saw the streets below, people going on about their day as if you had never even existed to begin with. Suddenly you felt someone beside you, turning your head and seeing the Seer, facing the tall building ahead of the two of you.

“Is it like this, now? No one cares?” you asked quietly and upon receiving no response you felt yourself tear up, all you ever wanted was to make a difference in the world. “You still can” the Seer rasped, making you sigh heavily “how? I-... You won’t even tell me who I’m supposedly here for” you pointed out and he once again chuckled, the sound like a cackling, as always “you will know, when the time is right, daughter of Frigga” he rasped and you rolled your eyes “you’re way too mysterious, you know that? And this ‘Frigga’ is not my mom-uh… mother, I mean…” you added, the Seer once again just cackling “for a woman who knows so much, you see so little. You will know all in due time, young healer, and in due time you will see all” he said and you rolled your eyes again “not helping” you mumbled and once again he cackled, the laughter echoing in your skull, not letting you escape it for a single second.

You woke up, panting and sweating heavily, your cheeks stained with tears that hadn’t stop running, you felt as though your lungs had no room to expand, you were panting and sobbing all together, looking around and seeing it was dark outside, a frown forming on your face, you knew it was at least noon when you went to go see the Seer. You threw off your fur blanket and walked out of your room, still panting for air until you stumbled into the great hall. You didn’t even notice Ivar there, watching the flames until you fell to the ground, clutching at your chest. Ivar crawled to you with a concerned frown “what is wrong?” he asked but you just shook your head, still feeling as if you had no room for air in your lungs yet you so desperately craved it, needed it. You curled up, despite your logical brain telling you that made it worse, but you were panicking, and luckily Ivar picked up on it, brows up in realisation and suddenly you felt one of his hands on your back and the other on your collarbone, forcing you to unfold and straighten your back, air finally being able to fill your lungs. You were still crying when you slumped against Ivar, not thinking straight as you buried your face in his chest. You expected him to push you away, at least not respond to your actions, but what you didn’t expect were hesitant arms wrapped around you, one of his hands gently stroking your hair in a soothing manner as you calmed down.

You stayed like that the whole night, telling Ivar the whole story, expecting him to tell you it was stupid, that you were foolish for believing the Seer or something like that, but you were met with silence, patient silence as he listened to your every word. “I’m scared, Ivar… I think I’m really scared of being alone, of never achieving anything, being forgotten, left behind and unable to help anyone or myself” you whispered and felt him tense at your words, you almost broke away from him when he once again eased into your touch “you are not alone. You have everyone here in Kattegat, you have Helga, I even think Floki likes you, you even have… me… so not to worry, many will remember you” Ivar soothed, letting you see a totally different side of him. Sure, in the months you had been here Ivar had been the one to teach you about their gods, while Ubbe and Hvitserk explained the language and helped you understand it. It had been four months since you arrived and you had grown closer to the youngest of the siblings. You enjoyed his sarcasme and sharp tongue, his wit and his determination, but most importantly, you enjoyed small moments, like this, where you saw what you considered to be the real Ivar.

Before long Ivar began to talk about meeting his father again, which you had apparently missed while passed out from whatever the Seer made you inhale, something Ivar told you he was very upset about, but you could see that he wasn’t. Apparently his father had disappeared years ago, only now popping up and asking people to sail with him, and Ivar had apparently said yes, to go to England with him. You couldn’t help but chuckle “bring back some of their tea, alright?” you joked, Ivar looking at you confused but dismissed it, he, along with everyone else you spent a lot of time with, had gotten used to your odd humour. The next day you watched Ivar proudly as he did his best to walk to the boat, almost helping him up when he fell until Aslaug stopped you and Ubbe, making you step back and watch as Ivar crawled to the boat and into it. You glared at Sigurd as he laughed at Ivar but brought your focus back to him once more, giving him a subtle wave as the boat began to set sail, he didn’t return it but you could see in his eyes that he wanted to.

#Ivar x Reader #Ivar x Modern!Reader #Vikings fic #Healer fic

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cobaincreates · 3 years

Text

touch

warnings: freshly served smut :), oral (male receiving), 18+

count: 4k+

this is part one & wow i really did that. taglist is totally open by the way! let me know what you think!

— — —

what the hell was it about veins sticking out of an arm that had you nearly drooling? they shouldn’t be so attractive, yet here you were in a deep trance thinking about licking the prominent flexing of them in a specific forearm. you supposed it was your brain sending a slew of chemicals through your body, making your heartbeat spread from your chest to your fingertips. the longer you stared at the tiny mounds, the quicker the thrum of your heart spread to your center. science wasn’t really your strong suit, so you didn’t dare try to knit pick the core reason you were feeling a little (very) hot (and bothered).

if you could push down with the pad of your thumb at the peak of the vein, you’d most likely be grossed out, but it’d be intriguing to see it bloom back to its original place. you’d feel the warmth underneath the buttery skin, maybe even feel the pulse of a heartbeat. god, what you’d give to just—

“y/n?”

you jerked, eyelids fluttering as you processed where you were and why sarah was holding a large bowl out to you. the contents were leafy greens with pops of orange and yellow peppers. a few cherry tomatoes poked from under the blanket of lettuce. right, you thought, dinner. on the cameron’s boat. where you’d been for the past seven hours.

“you okay?” she asked slowly as your hands moved to life to take the bowl from her.

“mhm,” you hummed and picked out a good amount of salad to have. you then placed the tongs back in the bowl and held it across the table. catching sight of those veins from earlier, you swallowed thickly and flicked your eyes to a very interesting pepper.

“thanks.” sarah’s brother said as he lifted the weight from your hands. you swallowed again and sat up straight as the sounds of silverware scooping from dishes continued. once everyone had what they wanted and a conversation had started, you dove into your salad like it was your last meal on earth.

you stole a few glances directly across from you, your eyes skimming over rafe’s skin under his light blue t-shirt. it wasn’t helping that he was moving, making the veins pop more whenever he used his muscles in his forearm. you busied yourself with your food and nearly choked when rafe caught your glance. you thought you were being sly and not obvious in your stare, but you caught a glimpse of that tiny little curve at the corner of his mouth as he chewed.

you’d known the camerons for some time now, thanks to your parents mingling once you moved to the island. you had sparked an instant joy to having sarah cameron as one of your best friends and you loved her so much that it hurt even worse when you finally met her older, very infamous brother. it was like you’d been struck by lightning. you were left with a sensation you couldn’t quite put your finger on. sometimes it felt like the jolts of electricity whenever you caught his eye.

you weren’t in love. you knew that much. you were just very, very attracted to rafe. a perfect example would be your ridiculous obsession with the veins in his arms. god, why were they so addicting?

“what are you girls up to tonight?” rose, sarah’s stepmother, questioned from beside you. you chewed the food in your mouth, not quite tasting it as you waited for sarah to answer. you honestly had no idea what you planned to do during your sleepover.

“probably junk food and rom-coms.” sarah answered easily.

you were fine with the suggestion; it was usually what you two did during sleepovers. sometimes you’d sneak out to meet your friends at the boneyard, but it had been months since the last kegger and you weren’t exactly fond of the memory. maybe sarah would ditch you for a secret rendezvous with john b again, which would leave you in her room all by yourself. you could imagine yourself spread out on her floor, listening for soft shuffles in the hallway, and looking for rafe to come through the door. you shifted in your seat, coming back to reality on the cameron boat.

“when are we heading back?” wheezie asked, looking at ward at the head of the table.

“are we boring you?” rafe asked, causing your attention to shift from the youngest cameron to the oldest. and sexiest.

“i have plans tonight and to be honest, i'd much rather be anywhere but here.”

“you weren’t dragged on the boat. you had a choice to come just like any of us.” sarah said.

you looked at her then gauged wheezie’s reaction. she just sighed and sank into her seat. you pushed around a few noodles from the pasta salad rose had made earlier this morning.

“we’ll head out as soon as everyone is done.” ward said, reaching over to pat wheezie on the back of the hand.

sarah, wheezie, rafe, and you were on cleanup duty while ward prepped the boat to head back to tannyhill. you stacked all the dishes and brought them over to sarah at the sink in the makeshift kitchen. wheezie was on drying duty, leaving rafe to take care of the leftovers and cover all of the dishes back up. you watched for a moment as he picked up one of the dishes that was nearly empty and threw the rest out in the trash. you held your hands out for it to bring to sarah and he smiled at you.

“rafe!” you looked up at the sound of ward’s voice floating from above then over at rafe. “come up here please!”

rafe brushed his hands off on his thighs and moved around the table. “can you cover the rest?”

“sure.” you nodded and reached across the table for the pasta salad. a hot warmth appeared on your waist as rafe brushed past you, his hand touching your skin. you swallowed as the contact sent a whole heatwave through you and watched his back as he walked out onto the lower deck, his shirt brightening under the sun. going back to covering the food up, you turned around to bring them to rose who brought over the cooler. just as you did, you realized that rafe touching you had no correlation between needing to get by. he had perfectly enough space to do so in the dining area and kitchen. nothing was blocking his way.

—

“i'm really upset that i didn’t get to witness rob lowe in the 80s in person. like, really upset.” sarah whined with her hands over her eyes.

“he had no right with that hair and that stupid earring.” you said, arms crossed with a pout on your face.

“and that jumpsuit!” you both cried in unison then laughed loudly. st. elmo’s fire had been a whirlwind of emotions, strictly from rob lowe’s appearance. it just wasn’t fair to be born so late.

“okay,” sarah said as she snuggled further under her covers. “i'm exhausted.”

“no follow up with the outsiders?”

“say hi to rob lowe for me. night.” she said and turned onto her side with her back to you. the tv was still rolling the credits before you stopped it and got out of her bed to change the discs. you weren’t ready to sleep just yet. maybe seeing dally would coax you to dream of greased up characters played by actors who were now twice your age.

given that it was only eleven, it was too early for sarah to be going to sleep. usually she was all for staying up until three and munching on popcorn or playing a board game with dice. you knew she was only falling asleep early because john b had texted her about an early morning date he wanted to take her on. it was so disgustingly cute how quickly she wanted to sleep after reading his words. so while she fell asleep, you tried to focus on ponyboy and his dyed blonde locks instead of the veiny-armed off-limits cameron across the hall.

obviously, you failed. by the time it was nearing two and you already turned the tv off, you still weren’t tired. the ceiling wasn’t moving closer to you or providing any interesting details as you continued to stare up at it. your heart beat rhythmically throughout your body as you thought about the instance of rafe touching you today. you closed your eyes and felt his warm hand on your waist again, but then you felt it moving all over you. sarah made a small noise in her sleep as rafe’s hand was gliding over your stomach.

your eyes opened, his hand disappearing, and a huff leaving your lips. you looked toward sarah’s door, shut tight and separating you from her family, from her brother. you covered your eyes and rolled away from your sleeping best friend. you peeked through your fingers, looking where you last placed your phone and debating on sending an innocent text. maybe you could pretend you meant to send it to someone else. but maybe rafe would find it weird since you didn’t have a texting history with him. no, it would be too obvious.

rubbing your face, you sighed again and sat up. you needed a drink of water. the glass that sat beside you was empty from earlier and you and sarah had exhausted all the stashed drinks from your earlier preparations.

closing her door quietly behind you so you wouldn’t wake her, or anyone for that matter, you breathed a little easier and found your way to the stairs. about three steps down, you noticed a faint light from the ground floor, but you guessed it was a nightlight just in case anyone like you came down, looking for a snack or drink.

the tiled floor was crisply cold under your feet, sending a shiver up your bare legs and eliciting goosebumps on all exposed skin. you wound your arms across your chest for some semblance of warmth.

the chill you felt two seconds ago reappeared as you entered the large kitchen and found the source of the light coming from the fridge. it wasn’t a nightlight like you thought.

rafe stood there illuminated by the light, very shirtless and sweatpants hanging very low on his hips. you swallowed as you watched him munching on something.

“hey,” you whispered quietly so you wouldn’t scare him.

he looked over, stopping mid-bite. “hey. you okay?”

“yeah. just came to get some water.” you held the glass up as proof and stepped carefully to the sink installed in the island. rafe had a slew of condiments spread out on the countertop and you glanced over them curiously as you filled the glass. he had made himself a sandwich, the other half not in his hand sitting on a plate beside you. just as you turned the water off, his hand appeared and slid the plate over.

“you hungry?”

turning slightly and placing your hip against the island, you knew you needed something to lean on from the way he looked right now. as if you hadn’t just been thinking about him upstairs, it all came rushing back.

“don’t you want it?” you asked, taking a shaky sip from the glass.

rafe shook his head and swallowed his next bite. “i'd rather you eat it if you’re hungry.”

you looked away from him and picked up the sandwich, taking a small bite. rafe reached into the fridge and pulled out the pasta salad. fishing for a fork from the silverware drawer beside you, he leaned his elbows on the island and pierced a few noodles. you looked away from the muscles in his shoulders and took another bite in silence.

“it was nice having you on the boat today.” rafe said without prompt. you stopped chewing as you gauged his expression. “did you have fun?”

it was difficult to answer when he was looking at you as if you looked stunning in a tank top and sleep shorts. it was two in the morning. you should’ve been sleeping. but your heart leapt at his question.

“i did.” you nodded once you swallowed the next bite. you then thought about his hand on your waist and felt those shivers all over again like someone had opened a door behind you, letting the wintriest winter air in.

you decided on one more bite even though you weren’t hungry at all and now you were feeling rather nauseous with the way your stomach was rolling and leaping and doing all kinds of things. all the while, your heart started to beat louder in your chest. your fingers pulsed. rafe pushed off the counter, trapping the fork in between his lips to hold as he closed the container and put it back in the fridge. it was darker once he closed it, taking away any light so you couldn’t watch him as closely.

but once your eyes adjusted, you watched rafe come closer. you pressed yourself up against the counter, knowing that he needed to get to the sink when he took the fork from his mouth. you picked up your glass, taking a generous gulp. the water failed to distract you as rafe’s hand appeared on your hip, his chest brushing against you as he put the fork in the sink. your skin was totally exposed to his since your tank top had ridden up. you let out a shaky breath into the glass, your eyes closing momentarily until his hand disappeared and he stood next to you.

“why do you keep doing that?” you asked, your voice shaking a bit but you hoped he didn’t notice.

“doing what?” he busied himself with cleaning up the countertop. you stared at his back as he opened the fridge again.

“touching me.” you said. he turned to grab the packaged cheese, opening the drawer to drop it into. it annoyed you that he wasn’t paying attention or giving you all of his attention. “you’re either doing it just because or you’re trying to tell me something.”

rafe closed the fridge and gave you a questioning look. “you don’t touch people, rafe,” you clarified.

“how are you so sure?”

you wanted to groan about him playing dumb with you. why couldn’t he just tell you?

“because i've known you for a while now, at least i think i do, and i've never once seen you touch someone else.” rafe picked up the dish with your half the sandwich on it and tossed it into the trash. you stepped back so he could reach into the sink to leave the plate there. “so, what is it?”

“isn’t it obvious?” he questioned, frustrating you even further. you were getting confused, getting off track of trying to figure him out. you wanted to pull at your hair. why did he have to be mysterious all of the sudden?

“what do you want from me?” you questioned, hoping you’d get to the bottom of it. sure, you had ideas of what his answer would be, but you weren’t going to do anything until he told you himself.

your mouth nearly dropped open when he took your glass and downed a long sip. becoming angry, you reached up and took the glass from him, splashing a bit of water on his face from the sudden movement. he held in a laugh, water still in his mouth.

the grin fell from his face as you wedged yourself between him and the countertop. you knew you’d only done it out of frustration from his lack of answer. he was driving you crazy. rafe stared down at you, moving his hips away from yours very noticeably while his hands found your waist for extra measure. you looked at him almost daringly, trying to egg him on.

when he stayed put on his decision not to say much, you found your hands appearing over top of his. they were warm on your waist and under your palms. the hammer of your pulse started to feel like a cartoon character was taking a mallet and whacking as fast as they could to your insides.

you couldn’t describe how it felt touching rafe’s forearms finally after stressing over them hours earlier. if you had stayed a little while longer, you might have felt his own pulse through the vein. instead, you wanted to learn the contours of his biceps all the way up to his shoulders.

“this would be a lot easier if you just told me what you wanted.” you whispered like you’d done when you first walked into the kitchen.

rafe’s fingers dug a little deeper into your skin and his hips hovered over yours like they weren’t even there. you swallowed thickly and watched your fingers run down his chest, his torso that flexed faintly you thought you missed it like missing a sunset change color. rafe stayed still even as you traced his jutting hipbone down into his sweats. you lifted your eyes to his, finding his lips parted and slick. you licked at your own, watching his eyes never leave your face as you felt him through the fabric of his pants. he let out a shaky breath. his hips moved ever so slightly.

you stroked him once, painstakingly slow from the soft lift of his eyebrows. his eyes nearly slipped closed when his forehead sank to yours. it was as if he was so weak, he couldn’t stand to be touched. it made the mallet in your chest hammer harder.

the second time you stroked over him, tightening your grip a little, rafe let out a noise and shook his head softly against yours.

“what?” you prompted.

rafe removed a hand from your waist to catch your wrist. “not here.” he squeezed out and pulled away reluctantly before tugging you along.

you watched his back, taking in a few shaky breaths. you focused on controlling your breathing as he opened one of the french doors that led out onto the wrap-around porch. the air was cooler than the one you just shared with rafe. it was refreshing as it helped you relax. you heard a few chirps of the insects and the bloats from a few frogs somewhere closer to the marsh.

rafe led you over to the patio furniture. he sat down in one of rose’s white wicker chairs, creaking under his weight. he tried to pull you with him but wasn’t expecting you to sink down to your knees in front of him. he sat up in confusion, his hands resting on your shoulders as he watched you reach for his sweatpants. you needed them to come off, or at least be pulled down. you needed to taste him.

rafe’s hands slipped from your shoulders as he leaned back so you could tug his pants down. you bit your lip rather harshly as the sight of him. the whacking continued and sounded louder in your ears. you wanted to cry out of joy and laugh ridiculously at the vein running up the underside of him. you had to swallow to control the salivating, like a kid anticipating chocolate cake for breakfast.

the moon wasn’t even out, but you could see rafe’s arousal on his tip. you reached for it, wrapping your hand around him like a blanket. rafe heaved a breath.

“is this what you wanted?” you asked him, running your thumb over him and collecting the warm liquid.

rafe groaned. “oh, fuck. yes.”

you rubbed his thigh as your other hand moved over him slowly. the hairs tickled under your palm as you brought it all the way up and settled over his hip. you rubbed your thumb over him again, eyeing that vein that seemed to be taunting you now. rising higher on your knees, you looked up at rafe’s expectant and waiting gaze.

“tell me, rafe.”

you drew your lips between your teeth, waiting patiently for him to speak. he looked down at you between his legs and held back a moan as your hand moved over him. “i want you to suck my dick. fuck,” he panted in anticipation. “i want those pretty lips wrapped around me. please.”

you breathed in deeply with excitement, careful not to show it so you didn’t blow your cover of how badly you’d been wanting to do this. would he think it was ridiculous?

lowering your face closer, you dragged your hand to the base of him and pressed a kiss to his tip. you coated your lips with his arousal and wondered if he was coming undone at the seams. what did you look like, between his knees, on your own? you saw his hands reaching to grip the armrests at the precise moment you stuck your tongue out, finally tasting him. it was an innocent lick, probably showcasing just how anxious you were to have him in your mouth. but once you had that initial first taste, you were gone.

“oh, fuck.” he repeated, his chest heaving. you licked him again then traveled down the length of him in open-mouthed kisses. feeling that vein against your lips sent a large wave of shivers to your core. you hummed in delight to yourself without realizing until rafe’s hand appeared over yours on his hip. catching his eye at the right moment, you tilted your head upright, flattened your tongue on the underside of him, and licked all the way up that delicious vein. rafe’s face screwed up in agony, but you weren’t even done yet.

taking his tip between your lips, you applied the slightest bit of pressure. you swirled your tongue, moving your hand around him at the same time. “shit,” he said as his hips flinched off the chair in return, rutting into your mouth further. his fingers appeared at the side of your head, pushing into your hair. “fuck, baby, keep going.”

you did as he said, closing your eyes and willing yourself not to choke. you were unsuccessful as you gagged and recoiled off of him.

“go slow,” he coaxed and loosened his hold on your hair. your cheeks began to burn from the embarrassment. rafe rubbed soothingly into your scalp. you tried to relax; you didn’t want to stop now just because you couldn’t take all of him. you breathed through your nose and concentrated on taking him slowly. you took a little past his tip, sucking your lips around him. the second time, you took a little more and licked back up that vein.

“good girl,” he praised, reminding you that he was there and that you were doing okay. the phrase alone sent ripples down your spine.

minutes later with rafe’s grip on your hair not hurting anymore, he rutted his hips and pushed himself into your mouth. you took him, quite surprised at your ability to do so, but it felt good.

“y/n, i'm gonna come.” he gasped. the new opportunity had you rolling with determination as you moved your mouth over him. he groaned louder and for the first time, you thought about his sleeping family inside. god, what if you were caught? what if someone had already heard everything?

the possibility edged you on to go faster, to make rafe explode into your mouth. you then thought about tasting him, all of him, about how you’d have him in your system. it seemed weird almost, but you didn’t care as you listened to him coming undone beneath you and felt his fingers in your hair. he swore left and right just before you made your own noise, surprised, when he finally did come undone. he spilled into your mouth, coating your tongue. you slowed your movements over him, helping him through his high as his chest heaved.

you sank back onto your legs once you parted from him. you licked your lips, swallowing, and wiped the corner of your mouth. it was almost criminal the way you had the dark to hide your grin, like it was an accomplice. you looked up at rafe still lounged in the chair and felt another heatwave at the sight of him glistening in his lap. what you wouldn’t give to have another go.

“fuck.” he sighed to himself once he caught his breath. “where are you going?”

you looked down at him when you stood, adjusting your shorts. when you saw how he was looking up at you, you wanted to do everything you could to just crawl into his lap and stay there, to have the sun never come up. instead, you knew tomorrow had to come. “to bed. i'm tired.”

for a second, you pleaded with the universe to have him ask you to sleep with him. you wanted to walk upstairs hand-in-hand and close yourselves in his bedroom. you wanted to lay down under his covers, to have him touch you until the sun came up. but you knew you couldn’t risk that all in one night. you could wait, only if he wanted to.

⭐️taglist of beauties & babes!⭐️

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x fem!reader

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part IV

Summary: The Halloween parade. Will and JJ are adorable. Anita suggests that Spencer become a classroom volunteer. Reader has a rough week.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, a smidge of angst

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 4.4k

a/n: I wish we’d seen more of Will and JJ as parents because I imagine it would be adorable and hilarious. Let’s see if you can guess all of their costumes before the reveal lmao. Your only clue is that Spencer loves keeping with a theme and the brown vest (I literally learned how to make my own shitty gif bc I couldn’t find the right one in the search and I do not understand embedding lmao) makes an appearance.

Series Masterlist

———

“Did you grab the bags?” JJ swept the pleated, platinum braid out of her face as she bent over to zip up her boots.

“No, I thought you did,” Will called, bouncing down the stairs.

“I put them in the car already,” Spencer informed them, popping his head back in the front door. “There was just the one box, right?”

“Yeah, that was it,” Will confirmed. “Shit— where’s Michael’s sword?”

“Should be on the counter,” JJ huffed, standing up and adjusting the bodice of the blue dress.

“Got it.” Will came around the corner of the kitchen, patting his hips where his pockets would be— if he weren’t wearing an adult-sized onesie. “Keys?” Spencer held them up. “All right then, let’s get this show on the road.”

The trio headed to the waiting SUV, Spencer climbing into the backseat as Will and JJ got into the front. Will and JJ chattered on about dinner plans and schedules for the following week, and Spencer smoothed down the brown wool vest layered over his white linen shirt. He’d spent entirely too long putting together the costume over the last week (with a little help from Penelope). He’d scrapped the Spock getup he’d been working on since September— he could always wear that next year. But he’d only get one chance to attend the Room 105 Halloween parade, and once the idea had wormed its way into his brain, he had to make it happen.

“Spence?” JJ’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Would you be able to pick Michael up on Monday?”

He ran his hands down his thighs over the mint green cropped trousers. “Sure, as long as we don’t have a case.”

Will smirked at him in the rear view mirror. “How’s Ms. Y/L/N?”

“You’re about to see her yourself, so you can ask,” Spencer replied.

Will laughed, and JJ turned in her seat. “Whoa, coming in hot with the snark. You really do like her.”

Spencer fought and failed to keep the blush from rising, irritation at being teased blooming sharp inside his chest. He tried to shrug as nonchalantly as possible. “She’s a great teacher.”

“That’s not a no,” JJ noted, eyebrows raised.

“She’s Michael’s teacher,” Spencer said, like it meant something.

“Yeah, so?” Will shrugged his shoulders. “You’re his godfather. Technically, you’re not related, so it wouldn’t be breakin’ any rules.”

“Well, it’s not like that, so it doesn’t really matter,” Spencer insisted.

Will hummed and JJ turned back around in her seat. Spencer drummed his fingers on his knees and watched DC roll past through the SUV window. It really wasn’t like that. Y/N was just… very nice. A nice, beautiful, sweet, silly kindergarten teacher that he couldn’t stop thinking about no matter how many books he read or coffees he drank or chess games he played.

Monday was the last day of his sabbatical, and he was even more relieved to be headed back than usual— grateful that he’d have something to occupy his mind other than her. Because his mind was, indeed, occupied. The way her smile beamed like the spotlight on a stage, illuminating whoever happened to be on the receiving end. The way her hands moved in unbound, buoyant illustrations of her thoughts. The way her laugh felt like the first warm sip of tea or the wrap of his favorite scarf. It was getting out of hand, to say the least.

Will pulled into the parking lot, and instantly Spencer’s palms began to sweat. He glanced at the headband on the seat beside him and felt the mortification clawing at his insides. The costume was ridiculous; he was ridiculous. He should have just worn the Spock outfit.

Maybe he could just wait in the car and pretend like he hadn’t been able to make it. Or he could just leave the headband in the car. But then he’d just be in mint green capris with a sweater vest and platform sandals, and she’d have absolutely no idea who he was supposed to be. Then he’d have to explain it, and it would be even worse.

Will parked the car, and he and JJ immediately stepped out. Spencer watched them near the hood of the SUV, enjoying a rare moment of co-parenting without work hovering right out of frame. Will pulled the hood of the onesie up and JJ laughed, brushing her hand over the brown fabric twigs sticking out of the top. He supposed that if Will Lamontagne, Jr. could strut his stuff in adult footie pajamas, his handmade costume was probably all right.

With one last resigned sigh, Spencer slid the headband on. He grabbed the box of Halloween treats, opened the door, and hauled himself out of the vehicle. He pushed the door closed and looked in the reflection of the window, adjusting the headband around his curls and blowing out a breath.

“Ready?” JJ called, peering around the side of the SUV.

“Yeah—yeah,” Spencer agreed. He moved around the vehicle to join them, the three of them walking to find a spot in the crowd of parents standing around the carpool loop.

When they found a suitable spot, Will looked up at him and shook his head. The sandals added three extra inches to Spencer’s height, putting him a good six inches taller than Will. “Those shoes make you look like an actual giant,” Will chuckled. “I know that’s the point, but I feel like even more of a shrimp next to ya now.”

Spencer set the box of candy bags on the ground and would have shoved his hands into his pockets if the linen trousers had any. Before he could respond, JJ pointed to the door of the school, cooing, “Oh my god, look. Remember when the boys were that small?”

The PreK classes came out first, and Spencer could acknowledge that they were very cute, barely out of the toddler stage and holding hands with a line buddy. But he was waiting on a very specific cutie.

He’d barely had the thought when the kindergarten classes started to emerge from the door. He almost didn’t recognize her at first— just an orange blob and green shrubbery. But the converse gave her away.

“How is she so cute?” JJ threaded her arm through Will’s. “Even when she’s dressed as a giant orange blob.”

“It’s a gift,” Will agreed. He glanced up at Spencer. “Right, doc?”

Spencer nodded but didn’t take his eyes off Y/N. “I think so, yeah.” Will grinned and bumped JJ’s shoulder, but Spencer barely even registered his own response.

Thankfully they’d picked a spot near the very end of the loop, so he had plenty of time to get himself together before she was in front of him. While Will and JJ waved at all the tiny superheroes and princesses, he watched Y/N. She was all orange fabric from her shoulders to her knees, with bright orange Chucks to match. On her head was a strange variation on a party hat, bright green ferns sprouting from the tip of the cone and falling into her face. She looked absolutely ridiculous and entirely adorable, and he was in so much trouble.

When the class finally approached the final curve of the loop, Will nudged Spencer and gestured to the box of goodie bags. Spencer crouched down and lifted the box, standing back up to see Y/N laughing at Will and JJ. “Very cute, Lamontagne Family.”

Her gaze traveled across, then up, and then her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. Spencer wondered if maybe the earth could just open up and swallow him whole.

“Oh my god, are you—?” She stepped forward and ran her hand lightly over the vest, and he didn’t dare breathe. “Are you the BFG?!” Her hand dropped from his torso, and he didn’t have time to be disappointed before her face split into quite possibly the biggest smile he’d seen from her yet.

A tiny Superman shouted, “Ms. Y/L/N, we’re making a gap!”

Y/N came back to herself, gesturing to all three of them. “Don’t go anywhere.” She accepted the offered box of treats from Spencer and then turned to help her class catch up.

Will gave him a look. “It’s not like that, huh?”

“Oh my god, she likes you.” JJ clapped her hands together. “This is amazing.”

“I’m takin’ credit for this,” Will bragged. “I’m a regular ol’ matchmaker.”

Spencer couldn’t even be bothered to attempt a denial. He was still thinking about the feel of her palm on his chest, how it might feel to hold her hand, the way her eyes practically sparkled when she saw his ridiculous headband. He was in so much trouble.

Fifteen minutes later, the classes filed back out into the parking lot for dismissal. Y/N led the class down the sidewalk, grinning at the excitement coursing through her line. As they approached the end of the loop, Y/N caught sight of them and waved. The kids lined up in their normal spot, chatting excitedly about their costumes and candy bags.

“Lord, Ms. Y/L/N, you’re something else,” Will laughed.

“Is it not the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen?” She laughed and tapped the green shrubbery hanging in her face. “I have the kids do a little persuasive writing thing every year. They draw a picture and write a sentence about what they think Ms. Y/L/N should be for Halloween, and then we take a vote.”

She waved her hands in that way Spencer loved, the way that was so similar to his own. “Usually the options are pretty tame, you know—ghost, witch, bumblebee. This year was a near tie between runner-up Jojo Siwa and well,” she gestured at herself, “carrot.” Y/N cackled, and the leaves on top of her head shook with the action.

They all laughed along with her, and then JJ added, “The details are truly incredible. Is this an actual plant on your head?”

“I really thought about it,” Y/N laughed, “but no, it’s just fake ferns stuffed into a cardstock funnel.” She gestured at Will and JJ. “But also, excuse me— this family costume is ridiculously cute. Mr. Lamontagne, loving this onesie. Mrs. Jareau, I didn’t even know it was possible to look prettier than you usually do, but here you are. And Michael’s Anna costume?” She held her hands up. “Incredible. Show stopping. I wish I had an aunt Penelope to enlist the help of, because that cape is the actual height of fashion.”

“She helped Spence, too,” JJ prompted, stealing a glance in his direction.

“Oh yeah?” Y/N asked, turning to smile at Spencer.

“We um, 3D printed the ears,” he clarified.

“No way!” She took a step closer to him, peering up at the detail on the headband. He leaned down a little for her to get a closer look. “That is so cool. I’ve never actually seen anything 3D printed up close before— did you design them yourself?”

She met his eyes briefly, and he realized how close they were— close enough that he caught the faintest whiff of sandalwood and cardamom. Of course she even smelled like warmth and home. “Well. I, um— I drew a sort of sketch, I guess. And then Penelope did the software coding. I— I’m not very good with technology, honestly.”

She ran her fingers lightly over the plastic, and he decided she was really trying to kill him. “Yeah, I’m not sure I really understand how it works.”

“Well, first you create a blueprint file of the design you want to print, which you can do through modeling software or three-dimensional scanning. Then you convert the file into an STL file— named for Stereolithography which was the first ever 3D printing process. The STL file is made up of triangular mesh polygons, which is the data that describes the surface of a three-dimensional object. After that, you use a software program to complete the process of slicing— essentially dividing or chopping the 3D model into hundreds or thousands of horizontal layers that the printer can print one at a time to create the 3D object. And then the printer prints each layer until you have your finished product.”

Y/N was quiet, and he pulled back to see her grinning at him. “I thought you said you weren’t very good with technology?”

“I’m not good with using technology,” he clarified.

She nodded. “Gotcha. So you just know everything about it.”

Her joking tone had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I read a lot.”

“How much is a lot?”

“I can read at a rate of 20,000 words per minute, so… a lot.”

Her eyebrows shot up into the tangle of ferns on her head, and he was just so overwhelmed by how adorable she was. “Well, if I ever have a question about anything, I know who I’m coming to.”

He was sure he was blushing, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. “I’m happy to answer any and all of your questions.”

She let her gaze travel over the rest of the costume. “Oh my god, the sandals! Man, you really nailed it. I’m very impressed.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I thought about being Trunchbull, but I couldn’t find the sweatshirt,” he joked.

She laughed, and he wanted to bottle it up to keep forever. “As much as I would have loved to see your hair in a bun… you’re much too sweet to have been able to pull that off.” She smiled softly at him. “Much more suited to our friend the BFG.”

He rubbed a hand down the back of his neck, and it was only then that he realized Will and JJ had gone to the car. He looked back to Y/N, opening his mouth but unsure of what he was going to say.

“Y/L/N!” He turned his head to see Anita jogging toward them. “Did you—” The giant cardboard box she was wearing knocked into one of the few kindergarteners left in Y/N’s line, nearly sending them to the ground. “Oh my gosh, sorry sweetheart!” She righted the startled child, and Spencer gave her a once over, completely at a loss as to what her costume could be.

“What in the world are you supposed to be?” Y/N asked, choking out a laugh.

Anita looked at her deadpan. “A monopoly piece. Remind me that I’m never participating in team costumes ever again.” She rolled her eyes and gestured at Y/N. “Next year I’m gonna wear an orange t-shirt, call myself a carrot, and be much more comfortable.”

“I’ll have you know this costume was a lot of work,” Y/N remarked, crossing her arms.

“I’m sure it was. You could have put on an orange dress, stuck a green pipe cleaner in your hair, and called it a day, but that’s not the Y/L/N way.” Anita’s eyes slid across to where Spencer stood. “Well, hello, doctor. I have absolutely no idea what you’re supposed to be, but I love everything about it.”

“Spencer’s the BFG,” Y/N said, and Spencer could have sworn she sounded almost proud.

“Ah, Roald Dahl, of course.” Anita smirked. “I see you, Spencer. I see you.” She put her hands on her hips— or rather where her hips would have been if they weren’t covered by a ridiculously large box. “So, when are you going to volunteer?”

“Sorry?” he asked.

“Like, when are you going to volunteer in Y/L/N’s classroom?” She held up her hand, palm down, and made a circular motion between the two of them. “You know, hang out, but professionally.”

“Oh my god, did you need something?” Y/N’s squeaked, eyes wide.

Anita ignored her. “You just have to do a background check, but I’m sure you’ll pass it.”

“Lopez,” Y/N said, staring her down. “Do you need something?”

“Oh, I was just going to ask if you got the email about the PD after school on Tuesday. But this was much more fun.” She winked at Spencer. “Bye, Spencer.”

They both stared after her as she nearly skipped across the grass to the building. Y/N turned to him. “I’m— so sorry.”

He met her eyes and took the leap. “Volunteering could be fun.”

He watched her press her lips together to contain her smile. “It could be.”

He didn’t bother containing his own. “I’ll um— I’ll shoot you an email.”

“I’ll respond to your email.”

…

When he walked in the door, Spencer made a beeline for his desk. He opened his laptop and pulled up his email account, writing as fast as his one-finger typing would allow.

Spencer Reid Re: Volunteering

Hi!

I’m just following up about volunteering. Anita mentioned a form that I needed to fill out? Now that I’ll be back to work, I’ll just need to plan around the BAU schedule. Could you give me a list of days that would work for you?

Really looking forward to seeing you in action.

Spencer

He checked his two other email messages, and then left the browser up while he thumbed through his most recent reading material.

He sat at his desk for the remainder of the afternoon, distractedly perusing his book and glancing at his empty inbox every minute or so. His gaze flew up to the screen at the ding of a new message at 6:30, only to find a promotional email from one of his favorite indie bookstores.

He closed his laptop with a sigh. It was a Friday night. Y/N probably just didn’t check her email on the weekend. He could wait until Monday. He’d see her on Monday.

He limited himself to checking his laptop twice a day on Saturday and Sunday. When Monday rolled around, he checked it in the morning. He leaned back against the leather of his chair, staring at the empty inbox. He had some errands to run, and for the first time in his life, he wished he had a phone that had email on it.

He ran his last-day-of-sabbatical errands and stopped in at his favorite coffee shop for most likely the last midday, sit-down coffee he’d have for a while. Before he realized, it was 2:30. He brought his empty mug to the counter and waved to the barista. Then he walked to the car and prepped his conversation starters.

“Did you get my email? I sent you an email, just wondering if you saw it? Hey— Hello— Hi, I wasn’t sure if you got my email.” He blew out a breath. “Hi. How are you?” He waved his hand. “I’m great. Did you get my email?” He laughed into the empty car. “Ridiculous, Spencer. You’re ridiculous.”

When he pulled into the parking lot, his heart was racing and his palms were slipping against the steering wheel. He pulled around the loop, looking with a furrowed brow at the area where Y/N should be. In her place was a short woman with cropped grey hair. She held a clipboard and looked generally overwhelmed.

Michael sprinted to the car as soon as he saw it. He pulled open the door and let out a world weary sigh. Spencer turned in his seat. “Everything all right?”

“No, everything is terrible,” he huffed dramatically. “Ms. Y/L/N was sick today. Mrs. Franklin was our substitute, and she smells weird.”

Spencer looked through the window at Mrs. Franklin, struggling to keep a few rowdy boys in the line. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m sure Ms. Y/L/N will be back soon.” He was secretly relieved that he had a potential explanation for the unanswered email.

“I can’t take another day of Mrs. Franklin,” Michael sighed, buckling his seatbelt. “I hope Ms. Y/L/N’s back tomorrow.”

Spencer let out a breath and pulled away from the curb. “Me, too.”

…

JJ huffed out a breath, glaring at the stack of paperwork in front of her. Spencer was nose deep in a book, but he glanced up at the sound. “I can take a few of those if you want,” he offered.

“No, it’s fine,” she sighed. “I’ve really only got six left.”

He looked at his watch. “Each report takes you approximately 37 minutes. With eight minute breaks in between, you’re not going to be out of here until almost 6:00.”

JJ laughed. “I can’t believe I missed out on these scathing performance reviews for thirty days.”

“Suit yourself.” Spencer dropped his gaze back to his reading.

His first week back from sabbatical had been uneventful to say the least. The team had just wrapped a local case, and they’d spent the better part of the week going over consultations and potentials. It was finally Friday, and Spencer was finished with his stack of backlogged reports.

He was finishing the last chapter of the book when JJ dropped a string of quiet curses. He continued reading, waiting for her to ask. She was quiet for another minute.

“I forgot I’m on duty to pick Michael up today.” Spencer looked up at her, slight panic coming over him.

“I really don’t mind finishing your reports,” he offered.

JJ raised her eyebrows. “What, no offering to visit Ms. Y/L/N?”

Spencer closed his book. “I, um. I sent her an email a week ago, and she hasn’t responded.”

“So?”

“So…” Spencer ran a hand through his hair. “That’s weird, right?”

JJ laughed. “You don’t really use email, so I’d imagine your inbox is pretty orderly. But if you use it a lot, it can be easy for messages to get lost.” She looked at him pointedly. “I can almost guarantee that she’s not ignoring you, Spence.”

He sighed. “I guess there’s a quick way to find out.”

...

Spencer drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, watching the door of the school. He glanced at the clock, noting the class was later than they’d ever been. Without really understanding why, he pulled out of the loop and swung back around to park in the lot. He exited the car, and as he rounded the hood, he spotted them.

Y/N was at the front of the line, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket and mouth pressed into a thin line. The line behind her was unlike he’d ever seen it. No waving arms, no smiles, no giggles. Twenty small bodies followed behind her with absolute and total solemnity, and he felt uncomfortable just watching them. It would have almost been funny if it wasn’t so dramatically out of character.

The line weaved around the more rambunctious classes, maintaining their grave expressions and quiet pace. They reached their spot on the sidewalk, and Y/N didn’t even have to say anything. Spencer watched as the line took their spots behind her. She held one hand up to acknowledge parents as they pulled up, murmuring stoic goodbyes to students as they headed to their vehicles.

He hung back at the hood of the car until the majority of the class was gone, slowly making his way across the parking lot. Y/N’s line of sight was pointed in his direction, but her eyes were unfocused in the afternoon sun. He could see the moment that she registered his presence, her eyes widening slightly and bottom lip releasing from the place she’d been absentmindedly chewing. She shifted her weight as he closed the final few feet between them.

“Hi.” She held a silent hand up in greeting. He clenched and unclenched his fingers. “Rough day?”

“It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, despite what everyone thinks,” she snapped. She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes up to the perfectly blue sky, mocking her mood. “I’m sorry. Yes, it was a rough day.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“You don’t deserve my wrath.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the students. “They didn’t either, but— too late for that.”

He watched as she lowered her head back down, rubbing a hand over her face. He desperately wanted to slay whatever dragons had given her normally brilliant eyes such a grey cast. “You have strong relationships with them, and kids are resilient. I’m sure they know you—”

“Please— don’t.” Her voice was thick, and she looked at him with desperate eyes. “I— I appreciate the thought, but I’m— I’m a frustrated crier.” Her shining irises proved her point. “And I’m just— I’m really just trying to keep it together for the last four minutes of my contract time.” Her words were practically a whisper, and she swallowed thickly and glanced down the line, just Michael and one classmate left, eyes downcast.

“I understand.” Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from reaching out and touching her. “I’m sorry. I— I hope your weekend is better than today.”

Michael slowly left the line, murmuring a quiet goodbye to Y/N. Spencer put a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the car, stealing one last glance at a crushed Y/N.

...

Y/N Y/L/N

Re: Re: Volunteering

Hi,

I meant to respond to this email, and then a bunch of things happened, and then I was out all week.

I don’t know if you even still want to volunteer after this afternoon, but it felt rude to not respond at all.

I’ve attached the background check form to this email in case you’re still interested.

Y/N

1 Attachment: Background Check

—

Hi,

I meant what I said this afternoon. Your students love you, and they know you love them. If my conversation with Michael in the car was any indication, they’re feeling rightfully embarrassed and guilty about their behavior while you were out.

Regardless of what happened today, your relationships with your students are strong enough that they will come to school tomorrow knowing that you still care about them. Children don’t hold onto things nearly as much as adults.

It would be a privilege to volunteer in your classroom, even on the worst day.

Spencer

1 Attachment: Background Check - Spencer Reid

—

If I wasn’t already crying, I would be now.

Thanks for that.

No sarcasm intended. Really. Thank you.

—

This might be inappropriate, and if it is, please just pretend like this email doesn’t exist.

I have a favorite cafe in the DuPont circle area, Soho Tea & Coffee. They have an excellent tea drink made with honey and milk that I like to order whenever I’ve had a particularly difficult day.

If you’re up for it, it’s on me.

———

Tags: @spacedikut @uhuhuh @itsametaphorbriansblog @90spumkin @blameitonthenight21 @magenta145 @annesauriol @watermelongubler @ampal98 @rainsong01 @meowiemari @mrsmyaweasley @mggsprettygirl @ceeellewrites @coffeeandendlesswords @daybabyx @joalsglasses @chevyimpala00067 @misshale21 @sapphic-prentiss @danifaithkae @saspencereid @heyitssomegirl101

Permanent tags: @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855

#spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #homoose writes #TMSIDK

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jamilelucato · 4 years

Text

The Duff || Fred Weasley

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader (any house)

summary: your life became too stressing lately, and Fred Weasley, although generally very annoying, manages to distract you just enough when he stops talking.

A/N: completely based on the book The Duff. Like completely. So reader may have some issues with her appearance. Sorry about my other fics! It’s just that, when an idea pops, I have to write. It’s a big fic. (feel like it’s one of my brightest works)

words: + 11k

warnings: insinuations and mentions of sex; body insecurities; sick father, etc

Harry Potter Masterlist || Musical Hogwarts Series

You couldn't understand what could be the fun in going to Three Broomsticks to party. The place is one of the oldest bars in Hogwarts, but not long ago, Madam Rosmerta decided to add a dance floor in one of the darkest sides of the pub, and she got one of those muggle music machines. It was very nice if your thing was dancing in sweat and rubbing your body in people.

Easy to say it was most definitely not your thing.

"Okay, that's it for you," said Madam Rosmerta, taking your mug away. It once was filled with butterbeer, but the barmaid seemed to think you had gotten it filled way too many times for a night.

"Oh, come on," you complained, "there's no alcohol on those."

"I know. But it has sugar, and you had one too many," Rosmerta said, ignoring your pout and walking away from your side of the counter so she could serve other costumers.

Your brain fought a battle to decide if it was worth contesting and explaining that not offering you more butterbeer was causing the barmaid to lose money when the stool next to you cried with the weight that was jumping on it.

"Good evening, y/n," said the boy who now sat next to you.

It was inevitable when your eyes rolled just by smelling his cologne. There was no need for you even to turn to know who it was. Only one boy in the whole Hogwarts was confident enough to wear such cheap cologne as if it was holy water.

"Get the hell away, Weasley," you cried, wishing, profoundly, to have another butterbeer with you.

Madam Rosmerta noticed the new client sitting close to the counter, and she quickly came back to serve him.

"Fred Weasley," she greeted him with her playful smile. She knew the Hogwarts teenage boys only flirted with her in hopes of a discount, but she enjoyed it, considering it rather fun. "What can I get you?"

"My usual butterbeer, Ro," he said, charming her with his smirk. She chuckled, while he passed her a coin.

"If you're getting him one, you're getting me one too," you warned the barmaid, raising a brow. Your serious approach worked because, with a sigh, she walked back with two drinks.

You tossed her your coin.

"That is officially your last one, young lady, so you better enjoy it," she threatened before leaving and playing with her hair solemnly for Fred to see.

He was still smiling when you decided to look at him. He was a bastard, but, boy, was he handsome.

"You have five seconds to disappear from in front of me now that you have your drink," you warned. Even though Fred's eyes followed the back of Rosmerta, yours was still staring at him. Maybe the amount of disgust you felt for him could pass on with a look.

"Chill, would you?" Fred took a sip from his mug, supporting his arms on the counter, finally looking at you. "If you're so bothered, the dance floor awaits."

You chuckled, frowning right after. "Look, Weasley, don't you have any other girl to fuss around?"

He smirked, thinking you were falling for his game. "Do you have friends you'd like to suggest?" he played, raising his brows. "Is Jess still single?"

"I'd be dead if I let you stay even one meter close to my friends, do you hear me? I don't want them catching any diseases," you shivered just with the thought of how many girls (and STDs) this boy before you might have encountered.

"So they are here," his eyes narrowed as if he was scanning the dance floor, searching for your girls.

"Go away, Fred," you sighed, tired of that conversation. You took one sip of your mug, but the butterbeer was no longer enough to keep your mind away from Fred Weasley's affairs. "And stay away from Jess and Casey."

"Oh, y/n, just put a good word for me, please. I mean, it is your job," Fred leaned in, closer to you and his scent attacked your nostrils again, making you lean back.

"It's not my job to help you, Weasley."

"Well, as their duff, I think it is," he drank from his mug, ignoring your confused look.

"Duff?"

Asking him what the word meant called his attention back to you, but he seemed surprised you hadn't heard about it yet. "You know, designated ugly fat friend," he replied, making a peculiar gesture with his neck as he spoke the last term.

You couldn't possibly have heard him right. "Excuse me??"

"Look, I don't mean to offend," he shrugged his broad shoulders, a gift from all his years playing Quidditch.

He noticed how fast your expression was changing.

"It's not like you're an ogre or anything, but in comparison…" his eyes wandered back to the dance floor, this time yours followed, seeing Jess and Casey — your longest-time best friends — dancing with some other students. "Think about it. Why do they bring you here if you don't dance?"

"Shut it, Weasley. They bring me here because I'm their friend; stop with your nonsense," your mind was working incredibly hard to stop you from believing that you were the ugly friend. Because that could not be the truth. Especially if everyone already knew and the one to tell you about it had to be the most annoying Gryffindor.

Fred had the nerve to reach over and pat your knee, but you jerked away from him. "Look," he said, "you have hot friends… really hot friends."

All the butterbeer you had drunk was starting to make you sick. Perhaps Rosmerta had been right, but if you had to bet in a guilt part, you'd bet on the ginger.

"The point is, in a group of friends, there's always a weak link, a Duff. And girls respond well to guys who associate with their Duffs."

"Where are you getting this info? The Quibbler?" you never meant to offend the Lovegoods, but Fred Weasley was speaking rubbish at this point.

"Don't be bitter," Fred pressed his lips together, pausing. "What I'm saying is girls find it sexy when lads show some sensitivity and socialize with the Duff. So, please, help me here, and just pretend to enjoy our talk."

There it was, in front of you, the living, redheaded proof that stupidity is capable of making people persevere for years. You already knew that Fred was a womanizing asshole, but it was unexpected to find out how worthless as a human being he is, too. Pretty faces definitely aren't everything.

With one swift motion, you jumped to your feet and flung the contents of your mug in Fred's direction.

The remaining butterbeer flew all over him, splattering his striped polo collar shirt. The liquid got his ginger hair wet entirely, which surprised you because, usually, you wouldn't have such great aim.

His face burned with anger, and his chiselled mandible clenched angrily. "What was that for?" he snapped, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"What do you think it was for?" you snapped.

"I have no possible idea."

Madam Rosmerta appeared again, giving Fred a white cloth to dry himself, but it wasn't enough. Part of you wanted to be mad at the waitress for helping Fred, but you knew she just didn't want him to ask her to take you out.

"If you think I'm letting one of my friends leave this place with you, Weasley, you're very, very wrong, " you spluttered, staring at him with fire in your eyes. "You're a shallow jackass, and I hope that we never cross paths again."

The stupid muggle music played so loud that no one but Rosmerta overheard you, and she probably found you awsome. She loved some teenage drama.

You grabbed your friends as quickly as you could. They were about protest all the way to the secret passageway back to Hogwarts, so you decided it was best to explain what was happening.

"What's wrong?" Casey asked. Her once perfect dark hair was now wet — part of you wondered if the sweat even belonged to her. For such a smart Ravenclaw, you expected more of her.

"Let's get back to school; I just can't stand to be in this hellhole for one more second, " you said, dragging their reluctant bodies along behind you.

"Why are we leaving so early? It's only, like, nine-fifteen," Jess asked, frowning a bit, looking at you with her sad big blue eyes. Her Hufflepuff charm was about to work on you when you remembered why you were living.

"I got into an argument with someone, " you said, and Jess puppy eyes quickly disappeared, opening the place for her angry face to emerge. "I threw my Coke on him, and I didn't want to stick around for his response."

"Who?" Casey asked. You'd been dreading that question because you knew the reaction you'd get.

"Fred Weasley." two girly sighs followed your answer. "The guy is a man-whore. I can't stand him. He sleeps with everything that moves, and his brain is located in his pants—which means it's microscopic."

"I doubt that, " Casey said with another sigh.

"He's a jerk," you said, hoping your voice sounded like it was final. The tunnel back to Hogwarts seemed endless.

"That's not true," Jessica inserted. "Katie Bell told me he talked to her when she was alone at the Yule Ball. She was with Angelina and Alicia, and she said he just came up and made conversation, really friendly."

That made sense. Katie was definitely the Duff if she was out with Angelina and Alicia. And you knew for a fact that Angelina left with Fred that night.

"He's charming, " Casey said. "Give him some credit." Her smile slowly faded when she remembered that you threw at him your beer. "But what the hell did he do to you tonight, huh?" Now she sounded concerned. Took her long enough.

You sighed, noticing that saying something would only make their worry and you really wanted to avoid their pity. "Nothing, " you lied, "Fred just pisses me off."

Duff. The word bounced around in your mind as you three reached Hogwarts. When you took a last look at your friends before each parted to your houses, Fred's statement that you were the unattractive, undesirable tagalong seemed to be confirmed.

Jessica's perfect hourglass body and big brown eyes. Casey's athlete's features and impeccable skin. You definitely weren't like them.

"Well, see you tomorrow for the feast?" Jess asked the two of you.

You and Casey shared tired smiles. Although Casey would've like to stay a little longer at the Three Broomsticks, she welcomed extra sleeping hours. Her Quidditch player schedule didn't leave her much time to rest.

"See you," you stated, walking away slowly, letting your feet lead the way to your dorm where you'd try extra hard to forget the whole Duff thing.

You picked your blanket up to your chin, not wanting to get out of bed so soon, even though you could very much get late for Snape's class.

Fred Weasley words were hunting you like a ghost. They shouldn't be, because you sure didn't care about his opinion. But the courage he had called you that disgusting abbreviation and how you seemed to find the one out from every single group of friends you walked past.

It had been a week and a half, so why did his words bother you? You were brilliant and a good witch, always there for your friends. Thus, who cared if you were the Duff?

If you were charming, you'd have to deal with lads like Weasley hitting on you. Ugh! That could be a Duff benefit, right? Being unattractive didn't have to suck.

Damn Fred Weasley! You couldn't believe he managed to pack your head with such superficial bullshit. Getting out of bed with a jump, you were committed.

You wouldn't think about Duffs ever again.

Thursdays were homework day, at least for you and your best friends.

When classes were over, the three of you would meet at the library for a long late afternoon, reading through books and doing assignments. And, of course, spilling some tea with whispers.

That afternoon was being way bored than you expected. It was like Jess and Casey interrupted your reading all the time to tell you something new, but that day they seemed to have nothing to say.

And when I say nothing, I mean nothing.

Suspicious.

You stared at them, who pretended they hadn't been facing you all along and turned back to their essays.

"Okay, what is it? You two are awfully quiet," you whispered, leaning closer to them, scared the librarian could hear you.

They exchanged looks before, sighing, Jess gave up on her silent treatment.

"Remember when we planned on going to Three Broomsticks tomorrow?" she pouted, trying to work her big eyes on you.

"You two planned, you mean. I never agreed on it."

"We kinda find dates to go with us," said Casey, ignoring your comment on the matter.

You stared at your two best friends, holding yourself to not laugh.

"Thankfully. I never said I wanted to go," you pointed out with a smile, turning back to your book.

Jessica didn't seem satisfied with you looking away just yet.

"We can find you a date," Jess suggested.

You chuckled. "Alright," you spat — the possibility sounded ridiculous; principally when Fred's words still echoed in the corner of your mind.

"y/n, you have to come," Casey's tone was more serious. "You never go out unless we force you. So, if you don't want a date for yourself, you are thrid-wheeling."

"Not in Askaban, I am not!" you protested, raising your voice way too much but thankfully nobody was around.

Jess tried to work her puppy eyes again. "Please," she sobbed. "If you don't come, I'll feel guilty. Do you want me to ditch Cormac?"

"You are going with Cormac??" you asked, genuinely concerned because he was younger than you, but then you recalled he wasn't younger than her.

"Just show up," said Casey, not really allowing you to object. "I'll pay you a butterbeer."

Her offer was very, very tempting. You had no idea if one could become addicted to butterbeer since yours never had alcohol, but you're getting closer to that.

"But I'll only stay 'till nine," you informed.

The two girls smiled, and Jess had to hold herself from clapping in excitement.

"That'll be enough," said Casey.

"Is your father okay?" Casey asked you as soon as Jess left, and she had the open opportunity to corner you.

She was the only one in the school that you were brave enough to confess what was happening to your father. He had been recently attacked by some Death Eaters, and the Cruciatus curse left him with severe brain damaged.

It happened during the summer, before the start of your seventh year, so you had a couple of weeks to recover from that news before going back to school.

But when your mom's first letter arrived, saying your father was getting more insane with time, no amount of preparation was enough to hold back your tears as you ran out of the Great Hall.

You were able to lie to Jess, but with Casey, you weren't so lucky. Besides, her mom worked at St. Mungo's, so she already knew about your dad way before you told her.

It had been two months since you've been ignoring your mom's letters, all of them. You are too scared to read what they've got to say, and she doesn't let you go back home anyways.

You wanted to be with him, your father, hold his hand, make him better. But your mom was firm on her decision about you graduating Hogwarts.

So, when you stared at Casey's beautiful face, you had no idea what to answer.

"He can't get better," you said, in tone way harsher than you were planning. Who knew that not speaking about a matter would make you feel more painful towards it?

Casey gulped — she was always like that: she would touch the wound, but she had no idea what to do about it later.

"Do you want me to write to my m..."

"No," you quickly answered, not even letting her finish. "I just need to graduate — then I'll deal with my dad."

"It will take longer while 'till graduation, y/n," Casey pointed out. She knew you were convincing yourself it was just a couple more months, but that was a terrible lie you no longer could satisfy yourself with.

Casey wanted to do something, but taking you out was all you allowed the girls to do to you. You hated the new club atmosphere of Three Broomsticks, but you had to admit, it was pretty distracting.

"Promise I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Promise," you said, before leaving your best friend alone in the hallway.

Snape's latest assignment stood before you, with a lot of notes from the Professor, pointing out all of your mistakes.

And there were a lot of them.

When class ended, you walked up to the Professor, gulping and shaking. You knew he didn't dislike you, but you were never too careful with Severus Snape.

"Professor, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes?" he turned to face you; his black robe swirled with his movement.

"I just want to know if this essay was, hm, a big part of this year's grade?" you asked, avoiding looking in his dark eyes. "If so, can I do something else to improve my grade?"

He swallowed before answering, his serious tone implicating he didn't want to be having this conversation.

"You used to be my best student, Miss y/l/n, but this year you turned into the worse," he said, pausing in that terrible way only he knew. If your last year's grade hadn't been an Outstanding, I would have written you off my class by now."

You stared at Snape, unsure of what to do next and terrified of the man before you. He never treated you that way.

"Sorry to bother, Professor," you said, leaving right away, knowing very well that he had just ruined your rest of the day, including the night with your girls.

But what would you tell them? They would say that Snape was always like that. And even Casey, who was bloody smart, didn't have classes with Snape anymore. She would say for you to drop it too.

Your mind led your feet to the Moaning Myrtle's abandoned bathroom. There, your cry could be confused with hers by those who passed by. Thus, no one would disturb you.

The ghost wasn't even startled when she heard you come in, crying, and throw yourself on the floor near the sinks. Myrtle has seen you there since the school year started when you read your mother's first letter.

You usually went there at night, when you were sure you wouldn't see anyone. But after years of trusting Professor Snape — and believing that he would never mistreat you — what you heard today was the culmination.

When you decided you had cried enough, you headed out of the bathroom, holding your Potions (terrible) essay closer to your chest. You walked around the castle, but, perhaps, your eyes lost contact with your brain — the next thing you knew, you ran smack into Fred Weasley.

As if I needed more reasons for wanting to die.

You stumbled backwards, and your essay slipped from your arms, heading straight to the floor.

The ginger boy grasped you by both shoulders, his big hands catching you before you had the chance to slip over your own feet.

"Watch it," he said, steadying you.

You two were standing way too close to each other, and once again, you could smell his cheap cologne, this time it seemed to spread all over your body. Bloody hell, am I gonna smell like Weasley now? You shivered with disgust, but he misread it.

"Trouble standing up?" he joked, looking down at you with a cocky smirk.

He was really tall — you'd forgotten that, sitting next to him at the Three Broomsticks that night.

"Do I make you weak in the knees?"

Ignoring his stupid question, you knelt down to get the essay, and he did the same, grabbing it first. You forgot how to breathe for a second, hoping he wouldn't try to read it — and notice all the corrections Snape had made with permanent ink.

However, as soon as he grabbed it, he was handing it over to you.

You took it and brought it back closer to your chest, stepping away from him and his stupid perfume and stupid touch that sent weird and uncomfortable chills through your spine.

You were starting to walk away, leaving him behind when you heard:

"Thank you, Weasley," he attempted to copy your accent. "See you around, Weasley."

But you rolled your eyes and didn't even venture to look at him again.

How you managed to get out of your dorm and show up was all Jess and Casey's fault. If they hadn't been talking about you going out all week, and then Jess almost crying for you to appear, you would've rather very much stayed in bed.

You drummed your fingers on the wooden surface of the bar, your mind far away from the muggle music and your very dance-pants friends.

Your mind was tricking you in remembering about your father, something you were really trying to push away. Why hadn't you insisted on staying with Dad? Why hadn't you read mom's letters?

You kept imagining your dad, wallowing in his misery… alone. You wondered if at least your mom would visit him at St. Mungos. They were never the clingy type of couple, but maybe now she could be more sentimental.

But neither you were sentimental. So why now? Why care so much for your dad when he was never that much of an extraordinary parent?

"Evenin', Duffy."

Why did that nitwit have to sit next to you?

"Go away, Fred," you scolded, looking down at your fingers, playing with your empty mug.

"I can't, " he said. "First of all, the only reason you're here's that I taught you and your friends how to scape Hogwarts," you rolled your eyes while he continued, "besides, I'm not one to give up easily. I am set to snog one of your friends," he shrugged as if he was the biggest gentleman on Earth.

"Then go talk to the one," you suggested, not even turning to see his face.

"I would, but Fred Weasley doesn't chase girls. They chase him."

His sentence stayed in the air around as for a second before you burst in laughter. He couldn't be sober to say something like that. You faced him, finally, and confirmed — he very much had just arrived, so he wasn't drunk. He was just stupid.

Handsome, but stupid.

"Til they come to me, you get the honour of my company," he said, and then he took your mug away from your restless fingers. "Lucky for me, it doesn't look like you're armed with a beverage tonight."

You awaited for his laugh, but it never came.

"What is it with you today?"

"Already told you I'm not in the mood, Weasley," you reminded him.

"What's wrong?"

"Go...away," you warned, slowly.

You no longer good handle the tension burning inside you, it had to be released in some way, and it needed to be right then. But you didn't want to cry, not in front of a bunch of students partying, and there was no way you were going to vent with the dimwitted next to you, and punching someone would just get Rosmerta disappointed.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Fred asked, touching your shoulders carefully. He was forcing you to face him, even though he was being too gentle for his usual. "y/n?"

Then it was like your systems had stopped working — like a magic spell went wrong. Your only excuse is that you were under an unbelievable amount of stress, and you detected an exit.

You needed a distraction, and your chance was staring at you with sparkly eyes. Regret was the last thing you were thinking about.

An opportunity sat on the barstool beside you, and you lunged at it, literally.

You kissed Fred Weasley.

You grabbed him by polo neck of his red t-shirt, pulling him closer and locking your lips on his. He froze at first, but it didn't take him more than three seconds to understand what was happening, and the hand once on your shoulder was now on you cheeks.

Fred returned your urge, biting your lower lip, making his way inside your mouth with his tongue. Your hands left his neck and went to his hair, surprised to find soft hair.

His hands flew to your sides and pulled you toward him as if his hair was the secret to his horniness. As you wrapped your fingers in the strands of red hair, his fingertips dug into your waist.

It worked better than punching someone would have. Not only did it help you release the tension, but it distracted you. It's hard to think about your dad when you're making out with somebody.

He leaned into me, and I hauled at him so hard that Fred nearly fell off his bar stool. At that moment, both just couldn't get close enough to each other. Your separate seats seemed like they were miles apart.

Nothing existed, but the physical connection — there were no emotions in the way. It was amazing not to think. Nothing! Nothing… until he screwed it up.

His hand slid up from your waist, lingering along your back, and came to a stop around your boobs. Everything flooded back, and you suddenly remembered who had his lips on yours.

As fast as you jumped on him, you leaned away, taking your hands from his hair and shoving him away.

His hands dropped, one landing on your knee, as he pulled away. He looked astonished but weirdly pleased.

"Wow, Duff, that was—", but he never finished. You were already gone, running out of the bar and rushing to get to the secret passageway.

You didn't look back. If Fred followed, once you got to Hogwarts, he turned around.

When you reached your dorm and jumped on the bed, your heartbeat was impossible to keep track. You told yourself it was because of the run back to the school, but your mind was still playing flashes of the snogging session that had just happened.

It wasn't fair to remember his touch and how out of limits he was —good kisser, but still a jerk.

You didn't want to admit it, but you were madder at yourself than at him.

Two days.

That was the amount of time you managed to stay away from Fred Weasley since the little "incident".

One thing was for sure: it had numbed completely any stress your father situation was afflicting him. It had even made you forget about your recent bad grades.

Now, every time you got distracted, the only thought that filled your mind was a non-stop replay of the kiss you and Fred shared. It made you feel weirdly sick in the stomach, and you swore you could feel his disgusting touch as if it dirtied your body forever.

Jess and Casey didn't even bother arguing with you about leaving early that night — they felt guilty because they left you alone at the counter. Of course, you didn't tell them about the whole Weasley situation, but, even though Jess seemed clueless, Casey noticed your change in action.

How defensive you were towards their questions, more than usual. How you avoided spending too much time at the Great Hall.

So, when she purposely asked you to watch her Quidditch practice, you knew she was testing you. Perhaps Casey thought something worse was happening to your dad and if that was her bet, you wouldn't be the one to make her see the other side of the coin.

"Came to watch me play?" an annoying voice asked, calling your attention to your left where Fred Weasley stood flying up in his broom. His torso was tilted towards you, who was sitting in the stands.

One look was all you took for your mind to fill with disgusting memories, and your stomach was killing you once again. You faced back the field, where Casey was supposed to be practising, but, apparently, the thing was over because she and her teammates were nowhere to be found.

That explains the Gryffindor in his robes, you thought, sighing and gathering your things before getting up.

Fred was still staring at you, analyzing, expecting.

"I'm not here for you, Weasley," you spat.

Your temper surprised him, but he managed to recover before you could notice.

"What a pity," he sighed, letting the corner of his lips turn up. "I thought you wanted a second dose of fun."

You stared at him, with your angry issues burning up. If before kissing him he already had his ways of pissing you off, now it was like he was power was ten times stronger.

Your first thought was to hex him right there and then, but he wasn't worth that much worry.

"That wasn't fun, Weasley," you decided to state the obvious; something Fred seemed to have been having trouble understanding.

"You seemed very entertained twirling your fingers in my hair," he smirked, holding a chuckle while your eyes widened and you closed your fists.

"That was a mistake; I wasn't in my right mind," you said, clenching your teeth in rage. That boy was driving you crazy.

From behind him, you recognized Casey, walking on the field, already out of her Quidditch robes and holding her broom with just one hand. You knew that was your way out.

"Fine, blame it on the butterbeer," he sighed, "if it's what makes you sleep at night."

"What makes you think, Weasley," you paused, stepping closer to the end of the stands and closer to the ginger, "that I think about you at night?" you raised your tone involuntarily, letting your emotions get the best of you.

"Your body language, for one, Duff," Fred smirked again, feeling his win just because you were getting out of control.

Last time you were raged like that you had kissed him, so perhaps it could happen again.

But the nickname set you back. You were still bitter, but now you remembered why — it was because of that shallow nickname and that stupid boy.

You turned around and stepped away, to the end of the stands. You needed to get out of there as fast as you could.

"See you around too, Duff," you heard Fred shouted, but you didn't dare look back.

Casey met you at the end of the stairs, where a bunch of Gryffindors were crossing paths with the Ravenclaws leaving.

"Was that Fred Weasley? Talking to you?" was the first thing Casey asked when you were close to her enough to hear.

"Yep," you sighed, still tense because of your conversation.

"Godric! Is he hot in his Quidditch uniform!" she gasped, but different from you, she had that romantic, girly look on her face again. It made you wanna vomit.

"Please, Cass, you can find someone hotter than him," you protested, frowning.

"Someone hotter doesn't take Fred's hotness away," she argued, raising a brow towards you. She was messing with you, of course, but knowing it didn't make it easier. She didn't know about the kiss, so for all purposes' sake, she still thought you would never even touch him.

"Can't you just pine over — hmm, I don't — George Weasley, his twin?" you said, sarcastically. "If you think Fred's hot, George is too, and I'm pretty sure he's a better person."

"Too vanilla," she replied as if it proved her point.

"How would you know?" you asked, but couldn't help but burst in laughter with her, both very sure this conversation wasn't going anywhere.

Casey was right again. Not about George being vanilla — that you couldn't be sure, being that you had never talked to the chap. You couldn't manage to say more than three words to George, his presence always made you kinda weak in the knees.

But George didn't know about it, and neither did your best friends, and you intend in leaving thing at that. George was kind of your platonic crush, it was healthy to have one (probably), and he was never cross that line.

Funny, huh, how George made you feel starstruck, and Fred made you wanna kill yourself.

The thing Casey was right was about Fred being hot and charming. He was appearing more times than often in your mind, and for the rest of the week, he no longer popped as a replay of a kiss. Fred was appearing in your mind as new sexy scenarios, things a deep part of you wanted to experiment. And apparently, with him. Yikes.

You tried to convince yourself that those scenarios were with George (had happened before) but, at this point, you knew how to differentiate the two very well. And, deep down, you knew who was the ginger biting your neck and intertwining his legs in yours.

And that infuriated your guts.

"You did that for what?"

Your question echoed to the Great Hall, with a dozen of heads turning to what the little show you were putting on.

It was not your intention to make a scene, but, at that moment, you were more enraged than you'd ever been your whole life. Casey was your best friend, and you knew sometimes she was bold for the greater good, but you doubted that doing what she did was for the greater good.

Because you were feeling like shit.

She had intercepted your owl with your mom's letter about your father's condition. Casey had observed that you were ignoring your mom's messages — last night she went to your dorm room with Jess for a girls night, and ended up finding accidentally a box packed with the parchments unopen.

So she planned on getting your owl before it dropped its letter over you and she managed to sit next to you and starting reading it aloud, without telling you what she was reading.

It was only when she got to the second line of the thing — "they say they are doing everything they can and they don't want to raise our hopes, because his chance of recovery is almost none"— that you realized that it was your mom's words.

You got so angry as never before, shouting at Casey to shut up, and without overthinking, you cast a fire spell on the thing. Thankfully she dropped the parchment before it burned her hands, but that doesn't mean that she didn't get angry at you too.

Jess watched and came closer, trying to find words to say, but she didn't know what was happening and she didn't want to side with anyone.

You felt the urge to cry, but, not in hell, you were doing it in front of the whole school. You gathered your bag and ran out of that place, not looking back — even though Casey was screaming "I'm sorry", and Jessica was asking you to wait.

"Hey, wait up," a voice called, this time it didn't belong to a girl.

You froze at your spot, your feet slowly turning to face the boy following you in the empty hallway. Traitors, you wanted to say to your feet.

"Not now, Weasley," you said, trying hard to look away, but once his dark eyes met yours, you just couldn't bring yourself to walk away.

"Then, when? You need to talk," he pointed out, taking his hands out of his pockets, not yet breaking the eye contact. It was like he knew that he looking at you was the only thing keeping you there.

"You heard the show, huh."

"Just saw you, angrily walking away," he said while you nervously grabbed your bag's handle. "Thankfully, there was no butterbeer in your hands."

His attempt to joke went not as smoothly as he expected. You faced your shoes, biting your lip with the stupid idea that popped in your mind. You knew what you planned wasn't right.

But when he stepped towards you, it felt natural.

"Just shut up, Weasley," you said, before getting on your tiptoes and leaning in to kiss him.

He was surprised, again, but this time he was quick to respond and somehow smarter — he grabbed your waist and guided you to a door that only he knew existed in that hallway.

It was a broom closet, probably the brooms first-years use to train flying.

This time there was no inhibition. Fred's mouth in yours was not going to be enough to forget you fighting with Casey and your mom's words about your dad. You needed more. Thankfully, Fred Weasley was more than pleased to serve, fastly taking your white shirt off while you unbuttoned his pants.

"Are you sure of this, Duff?" he asked before pulling your black skirt up.

"I said shut up, Weasley," you reminded him, in a bossy tone. And in case he tried to open his mouth again, you locked it with yours.

Things were worse than ever before.

After Casey's episode, you hadn't talked to her ever since. She tried, the first few days, but she saw you were ignoring her and with time, she gave up. Jess attempted to convince you to talk to Casey, and for that, you started ignoring Jess too.

Your grades weren't getting better any time soon — Professor Snape was now no longer the only one complaining to you about it. Thankfully, the other Professors were more understanding about it than Severus — the school knew about your father situation.

Oh, yeah. About your parents: since Casey attempt to read you a letter, you haven't touched one yet. And you weren't going to do it anytime soon.

The only person you were hanging out with — by Merlin, you never thought that would happen — was Fred Weasley.

It was easygoing with him because there wasn't much talking to do. He knew better than to ask you anything related to your personal life — even though he tried, a lot.

You two would meet primarily at the Room of Requirement — it usually provided a bed for you, so that was more comfortable than any broom closet. If he ever attempted to make conversation, you'd shut him up with your lips and locking your fingers in his hair — that was his soft spot for sure.

You noticed he was trying to be your friend, more than just a hookup because he was lately scheduling your meetings in places where more people were around — therefore you couldn't just kiss him.

Today, you two were meeting after his Quidditch practice. In his defence, you had indeed mentioned how hot after-trainings sex could be, and that was, probably, where he got the idea.

You were waiting for him in the ground leaned in the entrance to the stairs to the stands, laughing with yourself, because, not long ago, when he mentioned you waiting for him at the Quidditch field, you thought the idea was absurd.

"There he is," you said, placing your hands in the back pockets of your jeans, walking side by side with a just showered Fred Weasley.

"You came."

"You said for me to come," you replied, tilting your head towards him and chuckling. It wasn't like you and any other places to be, but he didn't need to know.

"Hey, Fred, what are we..." started George, rushing to Fred's side and gasping at the notice of you. "Oh, hey, y/n."

So nice to have a Weasley calling you by your name instead of the stupid "duff" thing Fred seemed to love.

But that was George — the George Weasley — and all you managed to do was blush and nervously say hello back.

"Well, brother, got do something with y/n first, but, later, we can..."

"— don't bother with me! I'm sure we can hang out the three of us," you interrupted Fred, glad this time you didn't stutter.

Fred practically spat out a laugh, looking at you like you were crazy. "We? With my own twin?"

You pushed Fred by the shoulder, disgusted by the bullshit he had suggested.

"We can change our plans," you elaborated. "That's what I meant, Fred."

George's eyes went from you to Fred, not sure of what to say next. He didn't know what was going on between the two of you — you'd threatened Fred that you'd kill the whole Weasley family if he decided to say something.

"Are you sure? Fred and I can do the prank later."

"It's a prank? Then count me in!" you smiled, pushing Fred's shoulder again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

There was one exact reason why Fred didn't tell you — it's because you weren't interested, especially in personal stuff and principally in pranks.

"Wow, y/n, I reckon I've never seen you so excited," George commented, smiling.

The three of you started walking away from the Quidditch field while Fred mumbled something about him being the reason for your excitement — for that you replied with pinching his left arm.

You had never laughed so hard in your life. Fred, George and you were sitting on the floor of the empty library, leaning your backs against a dusty shelf in the dark corner of the room.

"Did you see his face?" George giggled, placing a hand over his chest where his heart was beating extra fast.

All of the hearts there were beating fast.

It was almost midnight, and by the school rules, you three should be in bed, but the amount of enthusiasm you were feeling was convincing you being a reckless student wasn't so bad.

You were sitting in the middle of the twins, your hands tossed on the floor — the left one just a couple of centimetres away from Fred's. He was watching you, paying very close attention at how the red slowly painted your face back, since it had been white because of all the running from Filch to not get caught.

"Thanks for tagging me along," you said, with a small smile, looking at George.

"Anytime," George said, thinking it was the right thing to do. "You're fun to be around. I see why you wanted to hang out with her, Freddie."

You would've teased Fred about the silly nickname if it wasn't gonna ruin the beautiful moment you and George were having.

Fred watched his twin and you, giggling with each other, talking about random funny stuff related to Argo Filch, but he couldn't hear the conversation quite well. He could only focus on how you were leaning towards George, and how, involuntarily, your hand ran away from his.

"Well, chaps, I've gotta keep going," George announced, getting up and shaking the dust out of his clothes. You pouted, saddened by the departure of your favourite twin.

Fred didn't even breathe, scared that would make his brother want to stay. It wasn't like he was addicted to you — Godric, no! — but he was really looking forward to spending some time with you. Just with you.

"So soon?" you replied, noticing that one prank and you now could speak perfectly well with George. You had no idea why it became uncomplicated, but spending time with him only made you notice what you already knew — he's very different from Fred. "See you later, then."

"See ya," George then turned around and walked out of the library, making sure he wasn't being heard.

As soon as George was away, Fred turned to you, using his hand to bring you face towards him. You allowed it, not really having much choice when he touched you like that.

"Why did want to prank with us?" he asked, looking straight into your eyes.

You shrugged, saying nothing. But something in your expression — maybe the quick thought of George — gave you away.

"George," Fred sighed, surprisingly angry, but not enough for you to notice. His hand fell from your face to his side. "You like him."

"Puff! What? No. What?"

Yeah, your reaction wasn't the best. But Fred shrugged, letting his jealous side hide and acting like a jerk because it was so much easier than caring.

"Are you only with me because I look like him?" he asked, making sure his tone sounded like he was playing with you instead of really curious.

"No!" you replied, faster than you expected. "First of all, I'm not with you. Secondly, no, Freddie," — you used the nickname to mess with him — "I didn't pick you because of George. I picked you because you were there."

Fred stayed in silence, absorbing your answer.

You were suddenly lost in your thoughts, remembering that first kiss not so long ago. And then you remembered all of those lonely nights at the Three Broomsticks, where your only companies were Rosmerta and... Fred.

"You are always there."

"Yeah," Fred sighed, not sure of what you meant with that. However, he was still in jerk mode, and for that, his hand flew back to touch you, this time choosing more sensitive regions, like your belly, particularly, above the waistband of your jeans, a place that Fred had already learned to be one of your weak spots. "So, is now when you're doing what we had scheduled to do?"

You turned to face him, making it easier for him to reach your abdomen.

"Do you only think about that?"

He pretended to be thoughtful.

"Yes."

It came as a hell of a surprise when you were called to the Headmaster's office. You had been doing nothing — aside from escapades with Fred, and trying to get back to your studies, you haven't been doing much — so you didn't stall to see why they needed you.

You were even more surprised when the person awaiting fro you in the office was your mom.

"Hi, sweetie," she tried to smile but failed.

You didn't move since you opened the door and saw her, because her visit probably meant something you didn't want to be true.

"Is he dead?"

"What, sweetie? What did you say?" she asked.

"Dad. Is he...?" you whispered again, not brave enough to say it too loud.

"Oh, Merlin, no! That's why I'm here, actually. He called for you yesterday," she explained, stepping closer to you since you haven't been moving. "I sent you a letter, but you didn't reply, and I was so anxious..."

"Father called me? He said my name?" you were shocked because last time you saw him, he had no idea who you were.

"Yes, sweetie. I guess he remembers you," she smiled. "And me," she added.

"Can I see him?" you were fighting tears at this point.

"Of course, sweetie! That's why I'm here," she smiled, and opened her arms, knowing very well that all you wanted to do was bury your face on her chest, just like when you were little and scared. But this time, all you felt was happiness.

Returning to Hogwarts was hard. Not because you were sad — Merlin, that had been your best weekend ever! You father was almost completely recovered, although now and then he was saying some gibberish.

It was hard to come back because you wished you'd stayed longer with your dad, but your mom knew you needed to finish your school year before anything else.

A conversation that you had with your father kept replaying in your mind since you walked in the school. It was before you left when he encouraged you to enjoy your life because he wished he had enjoyed his more — especially when he thought he was dying, having Death Eaters play with his mind.

So when you saw George in the hallway, you knew you had to do something about your whole starstruck situation.

"Hey!" you called him.

"Hi, y/n," he faced you, a smile appearing in his lips. "Haven't seen you all weekend."

"I had to be away. Dad's stuff," you really didn't want to tell him about it right there. "Anyway... I don't know how to say this, but I've been feeling incredibly confident lately, so here it goes... Would you like to go on a date with me?"

You had no idea how you manage to say it. Perhaps pranking someone together does change a person, but while you waited for his reply, George didn't seem so hard to talk to.

"You want to go out... with me?" he played with his hair while saying it.

"Yep," you gulped, suddenly regretting you recently discovered confidence.

"Okay," he frowned for a second before smiling lightly. "Three Broomsticks, Wednesday?"

"Perfect. See you there?"

He shook his head in response, then turned and walked away. You stayed there, expecting a wave of happiness to come, but it never did. That's odd, you thought, before heading to your dorm, which, weirdly enough, you had missed.

When you pushed the door open, you saw the two figures sitting on your bed, as if they had been waiting for you for a long time. Jess and Casey looked at you as you walked n, with sympathetic smiles on their faces.

"What are you two doing here?" you asked, but you weren't mad. Just curious.

You had missed them too.

"I'm here to apologize. Should've done it sooner, but you didn't allow me," said Casey, getting up and stepping closer to you. "I now know your father is better, but you were right, that letter could have something horrible written on it and had no right reading it."

You stared at her, unconsciously reaching for her hand, anxious to meet her hot touch again. You were still happy, of course, but that talk made you bit sentimental.

"I'm sorry, y/n," she said, allowing you to hug her and hugging you back in the way only she knew how. Jess jumped out of bed and embraced the two of you; although you couldn't see her face, you'd bet she was smiling and crying at the same time.

The three of you stayed like that for a while.

"But, thank Merlin, he's okay now," Casey continued, slowly pulling away from the group hug.

"How do you..."

"Fred told us," said Jess, sitting back on your bed and suggesting you two did the same.

"Fred? Fred Weasley? How did he know?" you were completely startled.

"He asked about you. The three of us were confused because, well, he was right, nobody had seen you," Jess explained. "Long story short, McGonagall told him about your dad, and he told us."

You gulped, taking in that new information. Fred worried about you, that was new. Well, you did leave with no warning, but for a not-a-friend with benefits, you never consider he would care if you disappeared.

"Did he say anything else?" you rounded, suddenly worried he could have told them about your little escapades.

"Should him? Your father is okay, right?" Casey entered a worried-mom mood, and Jess seemed to be concerned too.

"My father is getting better, yes," you replied, but now it was too late. They were curious, you sighed, knowing very well that, as your best friends, they had all the right to know what was going on. "I may — or may not — have started a no-strings-attached relationship with Fred Weasley."

"You did what??" Casey widened her eyes towards you.

You spend half an hour explaining to the girls what was going on in your sex life, and they were good listeners, never interrupting unless you paused. You missed those girly talks so much that you wondered how you managed to spend weeks not talking to them.

"Wait. But your date for Wednesday is George?" asked Jess, clearly confused with the end of your story.

"I never had the guts before," you said, remembering how only the idea of asking George out would've made you weak in the knees a year ago.

"But you like Fred," she stated, convinced she was correct.

"What? No. Why did you...? Merlin, no," you rambled. You thought you had made it clear that being around Fred longer than necessary made your stomach sick and everything.

Jess and Casey exchanged looks as if they knew something you didn't.

"Fred's repugnant. He still calls me Duff, can you believe it? I mean, 'hello, honey, if I'm such the disgusting, ugly friend, why do you sleep with me?' " you said, laughing with yourself, imagining you facing Fred and telling him that. But the girls kept with their suspicious stares. "I did explain what is Duff, right?"

"You did," said Casey.

"Still not convinced you don't like Fred, though," added Jess, raising a brow towards you.

"I don't! Besides, now, I don't need him. I'm going on a date with his brother, and my father is fine. I have no worries," you reminded them, getting up from your bed. "Well, maybe one problem. I still need better grades."

"That I can help," said Casey, allowing her nerdy Ravenclaw shine.

You tried to corner Fred the whole Tuesday, but he seemed to be nowhere to be found, until after dinner, when you approached him when he was leaving. Thankfully, he was alone.

"So you are back," he said, looking you up and down in that way that only he knew. You looked around the hallway, scared that students leaving the Great Hall could hear you two talking, so you gesticulated for him to follow you to the broom closet — coincidently, where it all started was going to be its end too.

"Fred, we need to talk," you said, closing the door behind you and trying to find the light switch.

"You finally realized?" he sounded hopeful, with a playful smile on his lips.

"Realized what?"

He was set back with your response. Fred was thinking of something else when he asked you that, but he wasn't going to let you win. Although you really didn't have any idea what he was talking about.

"Realized you can't live without me."

"HA! Very funny, Weasley," you said, rolling your eyes.

He stepped closer to you, expecting you to do what you generally did in that closet, and, even though, his perfume made you lose your senses for a second (that didn't use to happen before, did it?).

"Well, I brought you here because... You see, we aren't doing this anymore," you swallowed after saying it — it was as if a knife was held in your neck.

He leaned in, looking down at you. His playful smile was long gone.

"You want to do it the right way. I get it," he said, pressing his lips together for a pause. "We could just jump to the fun part."

"Fun part? There isn't a...", but you weren't able to finish. His lips met yours mid-phrase, and as usual, you couldn't care about anything else but his lips.

What was the thing I need to tell him? Never mind now.

Your hands were playing with his hair, but something was different this time. There was still an urge — one that shouldn't be there, giving that you had no problems to forget right now — but you two were acting slowly, appreciating every touch.

When with Fred, you never felt ashamed of your body, but somehow this time you were very self-conscious, afraid that he wouldn't like you. Which was stupid — he had been... with you for too long to now started caring about your form.

What you didn't know what was that, if anything, he was finding you even more beautiful tonight, with the weak light of the closet highlighting every gorgeous curve of your body.

While you two undressed (with his lips away from yours), you were able to remember you shouldn't be there, snogging him and well, about to do other things with him. You had gone there to end this thing.

You sighed, too perplexed at the view of the ginger boy's body. The light was also highlighting his best spots.

A good-bye, you concluded with yourself. You were allowing yourself one last night, before staying away from Fred.

And if it was going to be a good-bye, you were sure you wanted to make it the best yet.

When you asked George out, he had been puzzled, and really scared of what to do next.

You had never jumbled him with Fred before — and after spending so much time with his twin doing Merlin knows what he expected you to never do it.

He thought it was rather cute that you took the first step and asked Fred out. Well, you did confuse the twin, but George assumed you probably were too nervous with your own feelings.

So using his best "hey, brother, this is gonna sound funny" voice, he went to find Fred to tell him that he had a date with the girl he had pining over for the last month.

George had never seen Fred say no to other girls, neither had George seen Fred stay in the castle for a Friday night, then a skip a Hogsmeade trip. You had changed Fred, even though George was sure Fred had not noticed it yet.

"What is it, George?" Fred asked, anxious to leave and meet you, no matter where you could be. He had heard that you had just got back in the castle and he just... he wanted to make sure you were alright.

"y/n, she... well," George nervously giggled. "She mixed us. She thought I was you."

"Really?" Fred was not expecting at this stage for you to mix him with his brother.

"Yeah, and hm, this is funny," George gulped before continuing. "I think she asked you out. On a date."

"She what??"

"Yeah, I guess she was on a rush, because of her father, and she said something about feeling confident," George went on. "Anyway, I said yes because I knew you'd have said yes. It's Wednesday. At the Three Broomsticks."

Fred stared at his brother as if he had solved all the problems in the world.

"She really did that?"

George shook his head yes and pointed out: "Don't mention she mixed us. It will probably make her feel worse."

"Are you sure she thought you were me?" Fred asked, overthinking it.

"Well, of course. Why else would y/n ask me out?"

You had to borrow a foundation from Jess (your skin tones were not so similar, but it was enough) because on the last night, Fred had exaggerated a little.

He never left a mark on his body, but yesterday he had overcome himself. As the brush rubbed the foundation on your neck, you remembered the night before.

"You are mine, Duff," he said, between one hickey and another. "Just mine."

Unintentionally, you lost yourself in thought, your mind continuing its replay from the night before, as you brushed your sensitive skin.

"Only I can make you feel this way; only my touch makes you shiver," whispered Fred, and incredibly, it was true. But he was Fred, and it couldn't go on.

So when it was over, and you both were too tired, you got dressed and stared at him, knowing what was coming next.

"Thank you, Fred, seriously. For everything," he watched you as you gulped nervously. "But this really can't go on. I have a date tomorrow."

"I know."

You were about to leave, but you immediately turned, facing him with wide eyes.

"You asked George out. I know," he seemed sad. And you have never seen Fred sad before. You wanted to do something, but what could you do really?

"Fred, I..."

"Look, you had your good-bye, y/n. You can get out now," Fred said. "Go hide. It's what you do, right?"

"Hey, don't turn this on me!"

"Somehow, this is my fault?" Fred asked while putting on his pants. Although angry, he didn't seem scary. "What you want me to do, y/n? I'm the jackass womanizer, aren't I? Go get the better twin."

"Fred Weasley!" you shouted his name, trying to shut him up. "We were never a couple; don't act as if you care now! Don't act like you're jealous!"

"Why? Because I can't be jealous of you? I can't care about you?" he shouted back.

"Care about me? You call me Duff, Weasley. All the damn time! How am I supposed to know you care about me if you keep reminding me how ugly, fat and disgusting I am?"

Silence fell upon the two of you.

That was the knife in your neck all along. The stupid nickname, it all came back to it. Fred had no idea how much power that nickname had over you.

"I never meant it that way, y/n," he said, gulping slowly.

"No?" you asked sarcastically. "Really? I remember you telling me I have hotter friends."

"But that was before!" he protested.

"Before what?" you asked, but his reply never came. The words he couldn't say died in his chest — buried forever. "See you around, Weasley, " you said, before opening the door and leaving, without looking back.

You shook your head, slowly coming back to reality. The hickeys were enough hidden. It didn't look perfect, but the Three Broomsticks had terrible lighting, so it would be okay.

You wanted to stay in, curled up in bed, playing in repeat your good-bye, and blame yourself for that sadness in your chest, but you were too embarrassed to dump George.

The place was crowded — Hogwarts older students were practically all there, having the time of their lives on the dance floor. You wished George could never find you, so you went to the counter to hide behind a mug of butterbeer.

"Hey there, pretty," said Madam Rosmerta, who have missed you all those nights without you. "Butterbeer?"

"You know it," you said, about to throw her a coin when someone pressed a hand on your shoulder.

"Make it two," he said, and he didn't even need to speak to you know who it was. That cheap perfume was going to be the death of you. "It's on me," he told you, tossing his own coin to Rosmerta who disappeared to get the mugs.

"He's not coming," he added a second later, hating the silence around you two.

"I figured it. When I saw you," you explained, gulping.

Rosmerta brought two mugs back, and both of you took a sip from it, unsure of what to say next.

It wasn't like you two fought last night because you hated each other. In fact, it was probably the complete opposite, but both looked like stupid cowards, afraid of your own feelings.

"Look, I..." he started, but you interrupted him, placing your hand on his arm over the counter.

"Let me say this first," you said, locking your eyes on his. "I shouldn't have asked your twin out. Even if we were just friends; what I did was a jerk move."

"You liked him first," Fred pointed out, trying to defend you from yourself.

You chuckled. "Oh, Merlin, no. I thought he had a pretty face," you explained, tilting your head towards him, and he understood your joke right away, joining in the laughter. "And he seemed like a nice guy. Like, huh, I thought he could treat me nicely," you looked away from his big eyes, facing the shelves with liquor.

"But?"

"What?" you asked him, turning to face him once again.

"I feel like there was a 'but'."

You smiled.

"But you also have a pretty face, and recently, you've come to treat me nice too," you said, and he pressed his lips together while slowly shaking his head up and down. "Well, actually, if it's just between you and me, your face is prettier."

He raised his brows. "Is it?"

"And your body too," you added, just to make him smile.

"Is mine bigger?" he asked, back to his normal joker self.

You pushed him lightly by the shoulder, not hard enough for him to fall off the stool.

"Never saw his, sorry," you decided to tease, and you both giggled.

"I'm sorry. About the Duff thing and all," he said, swallowing. "I kept the nickname because I thought it was cute. If I knew it bothered you so much, I'd have stopped. And I wouldn't have used it during sex."

"I'm okay with it now, I guess," you said. "It wasn't that bad hearing it during sex if I'm honest."

You tilted your head to the left, biting your tongue to not laugh because it was not funny. But Fred just had a way to ease your mood.

You thought silence was going to hunt you two again when Fred spoke.

"Is this the part where you admit you have feelings for me?" he smirked, placing his hands on your knees, relaxing you even more.

"Maybe," you chuckled. "Is this the part where you admit you have feelings for me?"

"Yes," he said, surprising you. "I have feelings for you."

"Well, I have feelings for you too, Freddie," you smiled, passing your fingers through his strong arms.

"You're not gonna forget that nickname, are you?" he faced away while asking.

"Nope."

"Fine by me, Duff," he replied, messing with you too. He then leaned closer, pressing his lips on yours, and it didn't take long for his hands to find your waist and bring you as closer to him as the stools allowed.

"But we are going slower this time, Weasley," you warned, parting your lips for just a second.

He smiled in the kiss.

"It's always better that way," he replied, probably remembering the soft, slow sex from last night because you were sure remembering that too.

You slapped his arm just strong enough for him to pout, but you kept kissing him anyway. When you two kissed, nothing else mattered— it was only the two of you in the world.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley #Fred and George Weasley #Fred and George #george weasley x reader #harry potter #the duff

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bobohu4eva · 3 years

Text

Pink Lace - Chapter 2

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banan @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt

Masterlist

“God I’m so fucking sick of this semester and it hasn’t even started yet.” You complained, lying on your roommates bed flipping through one of your textbooks for the upcoming semester.

“Relax, at least you have money and you’re smart y/n, you’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re an arts major, not an architecture student.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothing! It’s just different!”

“Mhm sure I’d love to see you paint a landscape or sculpt something.”

You gave your best friend a dirty look before focusing your attention back to the textbook.

Mia had been your best friend since 2nd grade and she had lived with you since you were 18. She had always been the more artistic one, doing dance from a young age and taking all sorts of art classes whenever she could. Her overall view on life was quite different from yours. She saw the world through the lens of an artist, and an optimist.

Her views on relationships were very different from yours as well, with quite the laundry list of exes, each one more thrilling than the last. You honestly loved hearing all her stories and found it impressive how well she seemed to have the dating game figured out. You on the other hand, could count the men you’d slept with on one hand, and aren’t one for parties or anything like that, preferring to stay home and study or watch a drama.

With your dislike for parties and dating apps, you stayed pretty single. Not that you minded, being too swamped with schoolwork to make time for a real boyfriend anyway. Sometimes you thought about going out to parties and trying to find yourself a hookup but you never followed through, not wanting that kind of intimacy with a stranger.

“Did you see Baekhyun again last night?” She asked casually, knowing all about your work. Although for her, asking if he was there really meant ‘are you going to buy me my lunches again this week’.

“Yeah...” You contemplated for a second if you should tell her, but you quickly decided to just say it, not wanting to keep things from your best friend. “I told him my name. Like my real name.”

Her eyes went wide, definitely surprised by your confession. “Wait seriously? Why?”

“He asked and I just couldn’t tell him no.” You replied, much quieter now.

“Well it’s your choice but that really wasn’t a good idea, he’s already way too into you and now he’s just gonna think he actually has a shot with you.”

“Yeah I know I just.. I can’t explain it but it felt different.”

“He’s just another pervy dude who wants tits in his face! There’s a reason he pays you.”

“He’s not a perv! He’s still a guy of course, but he’s sweet.” You felt a twinge of embarrassment at how quick you were to defend him.

“All that matters about this guy is that he gives you nearly a thousand dollars every night he sees you, right?” You nodded. “You don’t want him thinking he doesn’t have to pay you anymore do you?”

You stayed quiet, because you knew she was right. This was the nature of your relationship with Baekhyun, and straying from what you had with him now just meant opening yourself up to the possibility of losing a lot of money, money you needed.

You were kind of surprised by how opposite you and Mia seemed to be in this situation. Usually it was you talking to her about boys, telling her not to make reckless decisions.

“Yeah you’re right. I’m gonna go to bed. I have classes starting pretty early tomorrow.” You told her as you left her room for yours.

You needed to sleep, but your conversation with her left you with the same uneasy feeling you’d had after last seeing Baekhyun. The longer you stared at your ceiling, the more you felt like you did the right thing telling him your name. He really liked you and it probably made his day, and you knew he wouldn’t use it against you in any way. He was too nice for that. What’s the worst that could happen, right?

The first few classes of the day had gone okay. Your physics and statics professors didn’t seem like complete assholes, and you only had one class left for the day, philosophy. Part of you was annoyed you even needed to take the class, since you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a very “deep” person, but you figured it would be easy enough.

Being the good student you are, you decided to get there early to get a seat close to the front to make a good impression on the professor. When you arrived the previous class hadn’t finished yet, so you sat down on a bench nearby and opened a book.

“Hey, are you waiting for philosophy class too?”

You looked up to see a rather cute boy, books in hand, looking down at you with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, do I know you?”

“I’m Lucas.” He sticks his hand out for you to shake, so you do and he sits down next to you. “Are you a philosophy major?”

“No, architecture. And I’m y/n.”

“Damn you must be really smart then! I’m a business major.”

“You also just have to take this for the humanities credit?”

“Yeah, but I’m excited, the professor seems cool I met him earlier today.”

“Really? What’s he like?”

“Super cool and smart, kind of young, but like a genius.”

“Yeah well hopefully he’s nice too. Especially with grading”

Lucas laughed and you noticed the previous class leaving the lecture hall so you got up and made your way in, sitting down in the second row, Lucas sitting down next to you. The professor hadn’t showed up yet so you turned to Lucas again, making small talk to pass the time. As you talked to him you realized he was actually fairly funny, although not the smartest. You had to admit though, he was pretty damn handsome. He had to be an entire foot taller than you, with beautifully tanned skin and a smile that would make any girl weak in the knees.

“Are you going to any parties this weekend? I’m going to one at my buddies frat Friday night if you wanna be my date.”

You frowned “Sorry, I don’t really do parties.”

You could see the disappointment on his face. “Damn really? Well if ever change your mind you can text me.” He said as he scribbled something down and slid a piece of paper with his number on it across the table to you.

You internally cringed, but took the paper anyway and give him a small thank you. You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t do parties, but you still felt bad shooting him down, especially since he was actually pretty cute. That was the problem with you and dating in college. No matter how cute a guy was, what they wanted and what you wanted rarely added up well.

You’d bought your textbook already so you decide to get back to looking through it before class started. You also just wanted an excuse to stop talking to Lucas. You got lost in the book, finding yourself surprisingly interested in different moral theories and types of ethical arguments.

“Ahem.”

You heard who you assumed to be your professor and looked up, not expecting to see Baekhyun of all people smirking back at you. Fucking smirking.

You almost choked on air when you realized who you were looking at. Not only was it Baekhyun of all people standing in front of you, but he was wearing a fitted white button down and slacks with his hair styled out of his face, and glasses abandoned on his podium. He looked hot. You felt your face getting warmer and warmer.

“Hey you ok?” Lucas asked, having seen your reaction to Professor Byun.

“What? Yeah I’m totally fine why wouldn’t I be?” You responded, too loudly. Loudly enough that Baekhyun noticed. And laughed.

“Do you guys know each other or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You told him while giving Baekhyun your best version of a death stare, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Hello everyone I’m Mr. Byun, I’ll be your philosophies of life professor.” He said, starting the lecture with a fairly neutral look on his face, although you noticed him looking in your direction often, and smiling.

You had to admit, he was smart. Not that you were particularly surprised, he seemed fairly intelligent from the conversations you’d had with him at work, but granted those weren’t always the most intellectual conversations either. The way he explained what you had read in the book was both interesting and informative, but you couldn’t focus on him talk about Socrates when just two days earlier you had been grinding on him, and had even let him touch you. Especially when he looked like that now. Your whole body felt hot and you knew you were probably as red as a tomato.

You tried your best to focus on what he was saying for the sake of your grade, but he wasn’t making it easier by the way he kept looking in your direction with that smile on his face. Now, often looking you directly in the eyes with the same intensity from the club. Only this time, while sounding incredibly, frustratingly, smart.

As much as you tried, you couldn’t focus. Not when you had to process the fact that Baekhyun was now your college professor, and knew way more about you and your life than you ever wanted him to. You were hit with the realization that he now also knew you’d lied to him about nearly everything.

You became painfully aware of how you looked compared to him. While he looked exquisite in his business-casual attire, you had barely rolled out of bed in time to throw your hair up in a messy top knot and apply some mascara. Your hoodie and leggings combo wasn’t your best either, and you started feeling more and more embarrassed by the second.

Every other time Baekhyun had seen you, you had been dressed in expensive lingerie with your hair and makeup done perfectly. You had always been the one in control of the situation. Now, you only felt small and underdressed.

After what felt like hours he finally ended the lecture. But he wasn’t done yet, not with you at least. And you could tell by the way he was staring at you, smile now gone and replaced with a much more serious expression. As soon as he dismissed everyone to leave, you frantically started shoving your things in your bag, trying to get out of the room as quickly as possible but your hands were shaking so badly that you ended up fumbling and dropping most of what you’d been holding.

“Shit, shit, shit” you whispered to yourself as you desperately reached for your belongings, feeling Baekhyun’s eyes on you, but it was too late and right after you saw the last student leave the lecture hall, you heard your name.

“Y/n come here.”

Not really having the option to say no, you walked up to him, trying to look as annoyed as possible.

“You look cute like this, without the heels and everything. I like it.” He said, now smiling down at you. Despite the mocking feeling of the statement, his face was soft now, the smug smirk from earlier gone.

Baekhyun was absolutely thrilled. The girl he usually looked forward to seeing all week long was right in front of him now, within reach. And he’d get to you see you much more now as well. He had to keep himself from looking too happy since he knew you weren’t in nearly as good a mood as him.

You’d never wanted to disappear as badly as you did in that moment. Here, Baekhyun was the one with all the power, and you despised it. He was the one all dressed up and making all the rules. You felt small and embarrassed, having little choice but to listen to whatever it is was he had to say to you. You hated the feeling.

“What do you want?”

“You lied to me.” His face didn’t look angry at all, just blank, void of any emotion.

“Why are you making me do this can I please just leave?” You asked, hoping he’d have some sympathy but you have no such luck.

No answer

“Baekhyun, please. Just let me go home and switch into a different section.” You look at him with pleading eyes, wanting this nightmare to be over.

His face hardened, now slightly annoyed.

“Professor Byun, and I’m afraid you’re stuck with me y/n. I’m the only one teaching this class this semester.”

“Well, fuck” You muttered, looking down at the floor.

“Is that how you speak to your professors?”

Your head snapped back up, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You know, y/n, I’m not mad that you lied to me. I should’ve assumed as much. After you told me your name and I saw it on the attendance sheet I had been hoping you’d been lying.” He still looked annoyed, but his face had softened a bit.

“Oh fuck off Baekhyun”

Immediately his expression went sour again, jaw clenched and brown furrowed.

“Here it’s Mr. Byun. And don’t use that language with me again, I’m serious.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t know you’d be here. It was just yesterday that I even realized your name was on my roll sheet.”

He had a point. He couldn’t have planned this, you’d signed up for the class months ago and he didn’t even know your name until two nights ago.

“Why aren’t you freaking out then? Shouldn’t you be worried about having me in your class?”

He only let out a chuckle.

“Why would I be worried? As far as I’m concerned this only means I get to see you more often, which I’m fine with. And you need to pass this class to graduate on time, so shouldn’t you be glad you’re already friends with your professor?”

You knew it wasn’t what he intended, but the smile on his face felt like it was mocking you.

“Yeah. Friends.” You scoffed. “Can I go home now?”

“So this is your last class of the day?”

You internally cursed yourself for giving up that bit of information.

“Yeah. Now can I leave?”

“Well you’re not in a hurry are you? Since you don’t have anywhere to be after this.”

“Baekhyuuun” you whined “please, this sucks, just let me go home.”

He smiled, seemingly amused by you begging him.

“Okay. I’m not gonna make you stay any longer since you obviously don’t want to. But let me make it clear, I’m not gonna go easy on you here just because I like you. You still have to try.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” You reply, picking your bag up to leave, wondering what exactly he meant by like you.

“I’m really looking forward to reading your essays by the way.”

He flashed you a smile as you finally turned to leave, and you hated yourself for not doing a better job at looking mad. As much as you hated to admit it, he had a damn beautiful smile.

“See you on Wednesday!” He shouted after you as you left the room. You didn’t respond.

When you arrived back at your apartment your mind started to fill with panicked thoughts. He wouldn’t come to the club anymore now would he? That meant having to try to mingle with strangers again, something you hated about your work. It also meant less money. It’s not often that customers bought hour long dances.

And what if he did show up again? How would you even act around him? Part of you wanted him to for the easy money, but you just couldn’t imagine grinding on your professor. Your face heated up just at the thought, especially since you knew he could look that good now. Would you even be able to give him a lap dance without losing your own mind?

You had trouble processing the fact that this was even able to happen. You’d never thought to ask Baekhyun for his last name, and since it had been summer break he didn’t mention his job. The whole situation seemed bizarre.

And what about class? Will he make it more difficult if he doesn’t get what he wants?

No. Baekhyun isn’t like that, you tell yourself. As much as you disliked having him in a position of power over you, you’d gotten to know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t abuse it.

The more you’d gotten to know him the more you liked spending time with him rather than other customers, regardless of the money. And for good reason. The longer you knew Baekhyun, the more you realized he wasn’t like the other guys who came to the club. You could tell he was good, decent guy.

He was always there to see you, and only you. You had several other regulars, but none of them had any qualms about talking to and getting dances from other girls. Not that you minded, but you’d never seen Baekhyun even speak to another dancer.

He’s also just nice. The kind of nice that you don’t see in people often anymore. He was always incredibly respectful and would never do anything you weren’t comfortable with. Very few of the guys you came in contact with cared at all if they made you uncomfortable. They’d just assume that’s a part of the job for you.

Baekhyun was actually interesting to talk to as well. Since you’d met him at the beginning of summer, he usually told you about adventures he went on with his friends, most of whom you knew from the night they’d dragged him into the club.

They were a genuinely cool group of people. The one he was closest with, Chanyeol, was a music producer, another named Kyungsoo was an up and coming actor, and the one who’d introduced himself as Jongin was a professional dancer. Chanyeol had been the one to come with the idea of taking Baekhyun to the club in the first place.

Baekhyun would tell you anecdotes from nights out he’d had with them during college, as well as other wild stories and you’d often find yourself laughing and smiling so hard your face hurt. Ever since your first night with him, you noticed how good he was at making the people around him feel at ease. He always knew what to say and when to make people laugh.

Baekhyun was different from the other men at work because you liked being around him. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him attractive either. If you’d met him anywhere else, and he wasn’t your professor, you’d probably be more than willing to go on a date with him.

But unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

You tore yourself out of your thoughts and realized how late it had gotten. Although it was only the first day, you already had homework you needed to start on. You spent the rest of the evening trying to be productive, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Baekhyun. How good he had looked, how attractive he sounded giving the lecture, how he wouldn’t stop looking at you.

He was going to be much more present in your life now, whether you liked it or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday morning Baekhyun felt stupid for how excited he was to see you. He’d decided to get up early to work some exercise into his day, and hopefully clear his mind, but even as he took a shower and started getting ready to leave for work, he couldn’t get you out of his head. He’d decided to wear something a bit more casual and stylish, opting for a new pair of glasses, striped red t shirt, and cream slacks. He tried to make other excuses for why he wanted to look nice but in the back of his mind, he knew he wore it because he wanted to look good in front of you.

During the class before yours he noticed a female student in the first row chewing on the back of her pencil as she very intentionally leaned over her desk to grab a pen, putting her cleavage on display to him.

He only rolled his eyes, but he was pleased to see that his outfit was getting good reactions. He just hoped you’d like it.

When the class before yours left, Baekhyun felt his heart rate go up. What if you’d found a way to get out of his class? Would you even show up? Or if you did, would you just end up sitting as far from him as possible?

Usually he’d leave to go get a coffee during his break between giving lectures, but today he stayed in case you came early again. As the minutes went by students started to fill the lecture hall. Baekhyun couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixed on the door every time he heard it open, but he just kept seeing everyone but you.

A minute before class started, you walked in and sat down in the second to last row.

Baekhyun felt his face light up as soon as saw you, only to immediately turn into a frown when he saw where you chose to sit down. It was as he’d suspected, you wanted to be as far away from his as possible. But at least you were there.

As Baekhyun started the lecture, he couldn’t help looking in your direction every few seconds. Even though you were in casual clothes without any fancy hairstyle or makeup, this was the version of you Baekhyun loved seeing the most. He was used to the perfected product you presented yourself as at your job, and he knew that wasn’t the real you. This was. You in leggings and a t shirt, your hair messily falling over your shoulders as you scribbled down notes. He could watch you like this all day. He noticed how your brows would furrow in confusion whenever he’d bring up a new concept, and how you chewed on your bottom lip when you were concentrating. Ever since he’d seen you like this on Monday, he couldn’t get enough. It was you, the real you.

He also noticed how you seemed to look everywhere in the room except for at him. You spent as much time as possible with your head down taking notes, even when there wasn’t much to write down. Other times your eyes would stay glued to the power point slides, or wander around the walls and ceilings. He understood why you weren’t exactly comfortable looking at him.

Despite being on the other side of the room, he was still able to pick up on little things. He noticed your leg bouncing, fingers tapping on the desk, and how much you would fidget when you weren’t writing notes.

He knew you were uncomfortable, and he hated it. He hated himself for being the reason. He wished there was something he could do or say that would make you enjoy being in his class more. Anything that would make you feel more at ease with him in this situation. If he wasn’t the only one teaching the class he wouldn’t have minded if you’d switched to a different professor, if it meant you were more comfortable. Of course he would’ve missed seeing you, but he also knew that was a selfish thought. He felt guilty that you had to be there and be uncomfortable because of him.

At the end of the lecture he gave the class their first proper assignment, a short essay analyzing Plato's “The Ring of Gyges”. It was an assignment he always gave at the very beginning of the semester, since it was a quite difficult read and gave him a good idea of how everyone would do in the class.

He was especially excited to see how you would do.

When class ended, you were the first one to leave and this time he didn’t stop you. He knew you wanted to leave and didn’t want to bother you again, still feeling slightly sorry for how late he’d kept you the first day. He’d only done it to try to reassure you about having him as your professor, but he hadn’t been expecting you to be as distressed about it as you were. In hindsight he realized he’d probably only made things more stressful for you.

Once the room was empty aside from him he packed up his things and left as well, hoping that you could become less anxious over time, and eventually, maybe even enjoy being in his class.

For now though, class had not been something for you to look forward to at all. You’d been dreading it ever since Monday afternoon.

That morning as you were getting ready, you tried to make yourself look a bit more presentable than you’d looked Monday, not wanting to live through the embarrassment of seeing Baekhyun look so nice while you were basically wearing pajamas again.

For the first half of your day you threw yourself into your other class work, successfully taking him off your mind for a while, but when your physics class ended and your next class was with him you felt yourself starting to panic.

You thought about skipping class, but you cared too much about your grade. You decided your best choice was to just get there as late as possible and sit as close to the door as you could so he wouldn’t be able to get you to stay after class again.

As you walked across campus you felt yourself get more and more nervous. Despite being there 20 minutes early and the room being open to sit down in, you sat down outside. As the minutes drew closer to class starting you felt your heart start to race and had trouble controlling your breathing. One minute before class was to start you got up, walked over to the door, and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down a bit. You pushed open the door with shaky hands, and the second you could see into the room you notice Baekhyun's eyes on you, and his beautiful smile. You quickly looked down and hurried to the closest available seat in the back of the room, cringing at yourself.

As much as you wished you could, you couldn’t just ignore Baekhyun. He was the professor, you had to listen to him. But you had a hard time doing anything when he looked like he did. His shirt showed off his broad shoulders and he was wearing different glasses now too. He looked even better than he had on Monday. Had it not been for you already knowing him, you probably would’ve found him distracting for different reasons. You did everything you could not to look at him directly, knowing he’d catch you and see you blush. But who wouldn’t blush if he was staring at them while looking like that? You could tell some of the other girls in the class liked his outfit as well by the way they whispered to each other while shooting glances his way.

You wondered if maybe this was something he did often, if he liked starting things with students. If maybe his whole nice guy persona was fake and he really was just another scumbag.

But you soon realized that was just the bitterness speaking. You wouldn’t admit it to yourself but the thought of other girls trying to seduce him was bothering you. Baekhyun wasn’t a scumbag, not when he’d dedicated his life to teaching people about ethical issues and moral arguments.

As the class went on you couldn’t help but fidget and shift around in your seat. Even though you were avoiding looking at him, you knew his eyes were on you for much of the lecture. You’d figured it would be like this.

As it got closer and closer to the end of class you felt yourself get more and more panicked at the thought of him keeping you after again. You didn’t know what he could possibly keep you after for, but you didn’t want to stick around and find out, so as soon as he dismissed the class you nearly ran out without looking back.

“Hey, y/n!”

The sound of your name nearly gave you a heart attack, thinking it was Baekhyun who was going to force you to talk to him like this again but when you saw Lucas waving at you, you let out a relieved sigh.

“Hi Lucas.”

“I thought you’d come sit by me again today what happened?” He asked.

“Sorry about that, I was almost late today so I didn’t want to walk out there in front of the whole class” you said, hoping he wouldn’t see through your lie.

“Well I hope next time you’ll sit with me again.”

You managed to give him a small smile and nod, still a bit too frazzled over everything to want to talk to him.

“I have to get home, but I’ll se you Friday. Bye Lucas.” You waved at him as you went in the opposite direction.

You felt bad for not talking to him any longer, but you just weren’t in the right headspace.

On your walk home you felt weird. Had it really been that bad? Or were you just overreacting? Although he did look at you a lot Baekhyun seemed to teach the class as if everything was normal, more or less unaffected by your presence. He hadn’t seemed to mind your leaving either. Maybe he’d hadn’t planned to make you stay again. Maybe, it seemed, he was going to leave you be.

You knew Lucas would bother you about it if you didn’t sit with him again next time, but would you be okay to sit that close to the front again? Or even worse what if Lucas caught on that there was something going on between you and Baekhyun? He’d already seemed suspicious on the first day.

You decided your best course of action was to just do it and tough it out. All you needed to do was act like you did in all your other classes and everything would be fine right?

First however, you had to go home and face your roommate and tell her about this nightmare, having bottled it up until now. You weren’t exactly sure why you hadn’t told her right away. Maybe you felt strange about it since she had already told you you needed to keep him from getting any closer to you. Obviously that wasn’t going to be easy now.

As soon as you got home and put your things away you knocked on her door.

“YEAH?” You heard her yell through the door.

“Can I come in?”

“One second!”

A little while later the door opened.

“What’s up?”

“Can we have a girls night? I have some shit I need to tell you.”

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Mia look so excited.

“You?? Have tea for ME??? Fuck yes!”

You thought about it, and this was pretty rare. 90% of the time she was the one unloading her boy problems on you, or any other kind of drama too for that matter. Not that you minded, that was just the dynamic you had gotten used to.

“Wanna order some food and put on a movie?” You asked.

“Sure.”

Your food eventually arrived and you put on a chick flick you’ve both seen a thousand times.

“So?? Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?” She asked turning to you, obviously looking forward to whatever you were about to fill her in on.

You sighed.

“So my philosophy professor this semester...” You swallowed, now having trouble getting yourself to say it.

“I know this sounds fucking insane but, Baekhyun’s my philosophy professor.”

The look on her face told you everything you need to know. The two of you had known each other for so long that words weren’t needed.

“I don’t know how it happened either. I signed up for the class forever ago anyway, before I even met him at the club. Just a bizarre coincidence. And he’s the only one teaching it and I need the credit to graduate so I'm stuck.”

“Shit dude.”

“Yeah I know. He kept me after class Monday and it was a fucking nightmare.”

“What did he say?”

“Basically just that I’m stuck with him. He also called me out for lying about what university I go to at work. And he said he liked me better ‘like this’ whatever the hell that means”

“He’s like obsessed with you isn’t he? He’s probably over the moon that he has a way into your personal life now which really fucking sucks for you.” She had a point. “Do you think he’ll still come see you at work?”

“I honestly really don’t wanna think about that right now.”

“Be careful, y/n. A customer having a crush on you is one thing but having him in charge of your grade is another. What if he starts trying to make moves on you and you shoot him down? He could fuck up your GPA just to get back at you or something.”

“No.” You responded, perhaps a bit too quickly. “No, Baekhyun isn’t like that. He’s not a bad guy, and I don’t think he’ll try anything anyway.”

“Really?”

“I’m not sure of course but he’s also a lot older than us and this is his job, I can’t see him risking his livelihood just for me.”

“He’s a college professor who’s giving you a thousand dollars a week, how does he even have that kind of money anyway? No way he gets paid enough as a professor to be giving you that much. He either has some other source of income or you’re already making him broke.”

You felt stupid for not having considered that yet. How the hell was he giving you so much? She was right, unless he was secretly rich or something there was no way he could afford to give you so much money every week without fucking himself over. Your stomach started to churn with the idea of him possibly even putting himself in debt just for your Saturday nights together. He couldn’t be that stupid right?

She could tell how much the conversation was stressing you out at that point.

“Listen,” she said, grabbing your hand “you just need to get through the semester. You can handle 16 weeks, class with him will get less awkward, and hopefully he’s at least smart enough not to come see you at work anymore now.”

The thought of him not coming anymore wasn’t a good one either though. You made much more money when he was there, and in under 2 hours. Staying at the club until 3am with school going on now, only to take home less money wasn’t really a good option either.

“I don’t wanna see him there but I need his money.”

“You’ll find some other guy who’s rich and in love with you soon enough, don’t worry, it’ll all be fine.” She said, pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah..”

You knew she was just trying to make you feel better, but realistically you weren’t going to find another guy like Baekhyun at work, Even if someone came along who gave you as much money as he did, they wouldn’t be as fun to talk to, or as respectful as him. Guys like that just don’t come to strip clubs. You still didn’t even fully understand why he did.

“Just think of him as another one of your professors. It might be tough at first, but I think if you can do that you’ll be okay.”

“You’re right, I just need to get my shit together and not let him distract me.”

“See? Of course I’m right.” She grinned, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Eventually the movie ended, and by then it was late enough for the two of you to get ready for bed.

Talking to your best friend about it had made you feel slightly better. At least whatever happened, she would be there for you to talk it out with. Baekhyun wasn’t a bad person or anything either, it was just the situation that was stressing you out. As long as you could get ahold of yourself enough to focus on his lectures and do well in the class, you’d be fine.

You kept reassuring yourself as you closed your eyes, and for the first night that week you didn’t stare at your ceiling for hours worrying, you went right to sleep.

Next Chapter

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo smut #baekhyun fic #exo fic

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 3 years

Text

Kaz Brekker x fem! Ghafa! Reader - Selfish

A/n: So I wasn't fully happy how this turned out but it's fine! Also btw I changed the title it was previously There for you, there for me?

Warnings: Heart break, language, it has Kaz in it so... I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: Inej your sister is coming back and you know it's selfish but maybe you don't want her to return?

You knew you it was stupid, they all warned you not to. But how could you not? Those raven locks and those deep cold eyes that drew you into a endless ocean of Kaz Brekker. You knew it was silly, crazy even, but maybe that's what the world needed? Did the world need the impossible? The insane? The crazy parts?

When the ice court heist left everyone in shambles trying quickly to pick up the pieces of what you had all lost, and gained. While Nina and Matthias went off to Fjerda, Wylan and Jesper ran the markets, and Inej went off fighting slavers, you...

You stayed.

You stayed for the man that your sister held his heart, the man that you fell for. Staying in Ketterdam surprised everyone, staying with the dregs surprised them even more. You could have left with Inej, you had also been trapped in the menagerie, but your heart had told you to stop listening to your head for second. Would you be happy if you did?

No.

It was the simple yet complicated answer. You realized that you would never be happy as the barrel had become a way of life for you. You were a goddess here, why would you let that go? Ya it was selfish but the sea would shallow you whole with memories you didn't need, they almost did on the ice court heist.

You scale a building as you rip open a letter from your sister giddily, awaiting to see the words on the page that were meant for you. Taking the letter out of the envelope, your smile slowly starts to fade away into a frown as your eyes go down the page.

Dear sister,

The seas have been treating me well, the slavers seems to be cooling down a bit which leads me to my next point of this letter. I'm coming back to visit Ketterdam! I really don't know how you live there, remember the seas are always open for you! Also can you do me a quick favor and in this envelope there's another note inside here for Kaz, can you deliver it for me? Thank you!

May the Saints bless you,

With lots of love, your sister;

Inej

Dread filled you up. Maybe it was selfish however perhaps selflessness wasn't one of your qualities. But you didn't want Inej to come back, you had started something with Kaz. Building anything with Kaz was hard, much less a relationship. Would he choose her over you? The possibilities were endless of what could happen, but you saw very little outcomes where you and Kaz would stay together.

Of course he would choose her, why wouldn't he? You call yourself a goddess, yet your worried what might happen if your little lover might come into contact with your sister. Ha! Your nothing compared to the Wraith.

Shut it. You think, but the truth still lays there right in front of you. It was out in the open and you couldn't ignore it anymore. But what would you do?

Be happy for them. A voice in the back of your head whispers sadly.

Yes, that's what you would do. If they would want to be together you would help them. Selflessness may not be one of the qualities you possessed but you somehow had grabbed it off of someone else shelf. It was in your hands now, and you were going to use it.

As you start to walk back over to the Slat, one thought remains in your mind at the plan you had just formed.

What about you?

+++++++++++TIME SKIP+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wait on the docks beside Kaz, as you two stand side by side waiting for the boat The Wraith to unload. Wylan and Jesper are also there, talking to each other like there's no tomorrow. They're probably just trying to shake off the nerves. You know you are.

You nervously fiddle with your hands as it feels like Inej's crew takes forever to unload everything and start getting everything together. You may not have wanted your sister to come back but you still wanted her to be safe.

And alive. That would be enjoyable.

Finally after what seemed like a century you see the girl come out from the boat and step onto the docks. A single beam of sun light somehow seems to hit her face perfectly as she does and it makes her look like a saint.

Jealousy fills and bubbles in your gut heating to a boiling point. But you push it down because thank the saints she came back alive and unhurt. You pull her into a hug as she comes close enough to you.

While pulling away you smile at her, one of the things that you don't do very often, even so you only really do for two people. Internally you cringe for thinking about Kaz and Inej in the same thought process.

Be happy for them.

Wylan and Jesper go in for a hug and Kaz just's nods at her not liking touch. Though, his eyes still shines a certain way when he looks at her.

"How did the sea's treat you?" Kaz ask's her and Inej goes into a whole delivery of stories about her time at sea. You all started walking to a near waffle house and the one group suddenly turns into two. With Inej, Kaz, Jesper, and Wylan at the front, and you walking in the back. Alone.

For a split second you wished Nina and Matthias were here. Although Nina would like to listen to Inej's sea stories she would have stayed with you. But this is as it should be.

You didn't deserve that kind of kindness.

They go into the waffle house and you step aside into the darkness on the street, you were no Wraith but you were still a Ghafa.

They don't even notice your absence.

You watch them through the window and although it may had been a bit creepy you were sure Kaz did worse and you lived in Ketterdam so... And everything you see just confirms your suspicions.

Inej and Kaz look at each, Kaz looks her that way and quickly looks away. They share little innocent touches that would go unnoticed by the regular person but meant your world was slowly breaking. Touch, touch, touch.

Tears well up in your eyes and you push down sobs. Turning sharply to the side you run down the street for a bit before finding a building and a ladder. You scale the building with the help of the ladder not being careful enough so bruises and scrapes would probably show up. But not having enough will to care.

You go and stumble to sit down on the edge and when you do the sobs finally at last leave your throat.

There ugly and uncalled for, because why did you have the right to cry?

No. You growl in your mind.

For once you did have a good reason. Your heart just broke. By the saints even that sounds silly and stupid but you really didn't care.

People always seem to try and describe a broken heart but you absolutely cannot know what it feels like if you have not had your heart broken before.

Tears roll down your face as you continue to sob. Then abruptly... You stop.

Well, your tears silently roll down your cheeks but your sobbing stops. The full feeling finally hits you and the roll coaster you thought you would be experiencing isn't there. It's worse.

Your heart has been ripped out of your chest and it's leaving a gaping hole. Honestly, you don't think you'll ever get it back.

Pathetic, you knew it was, but maybe so was life and this is all just some sick game for someone else's enjoyment.

You barely hear it but there's a soft click of a cane and you didn't even realize it but it was already dark out.

Shit.

You know it's Kaz and you can't face him. You really can't. One because he would obviously know somethings wrong just by taking one look at your tear streaked face. Two because how could you face the man you loved, when you knew he at least liked your sister?

"I would say the stars aren't out today, but they never are in Ketterdam." You start to say, and your voice doesn't wobble but it does have a sense of finality to it.

Kaz comes and stands behind you, and you assumed that he nodded because he didn't say anything. Or maybe nothing was needed to be done or said.

"Inej sometimes said that the stars are the saints watching over us." You pause for a second looking up at the starless sky. Where are you going with this?

"If they are then Ketterdam must be out of their reach and Inej must have brought them back from the sea."

Kaz steps forward so he's even closer to you, and place's a shaky hand on your shoulder.

"I don't think that's true." Kaz whispers into the cold air of Ketterdam.

"If the saints are real and they couldn't watch over Ketterdam. But there's one saint that's always here, that could probably leave if they could but won't. One saint that must be the child of them all, because their so much more then they give themselves credit for. And that the saints sent them to watch over Ketterdam but to never leave." Kaz stops talking and he slowly sits down beside me.

You don't turn to face him you never do when you have talks like these. It's like a silent rule between the two of you, but Kaz Brekker was literally a criminal you both are. So your not nearly as surprised as you should be when he finally decides to break it.

He place's a gloveless hand under your chine and gently turns your head so your facing him. Your eyes finally meet his and everything comes into focus and-

Oh.

You've heard people say that the eyes are the entrance to the soul and maybe you didn't believe them before but it couldn't be more right. In Kaz's eyes you see what he's been trying to tell you for months, but you were so blind in thinking that Inej loved him that you didn't see his attempts. But now, you knew.

He didn't love Inej, he love's you.

He cups your cheek and slowly leans in and lightly brush's his lips on yours. It's barley a kiss but it's enough for now. It's all you could ever ask for.

"Inej love's you." It's a simple statement and Kaz just nods. You hesitate trying to think about your next few words carefully.

"I don't want to hurt her, I never could hurt her intentionally but... What should we do?"

Kaz thinks for a moment before speaking. "Inej will be out at sea and I think one day she'll find someone. She'll be out at sea and we'll break to her when she's ready. And I think whatever we have we can- can have. I know it's selfish but I've never been know for being selfless."

You just intertwine your guy's hands together in agreement while you watch the gloomy but alive streets of Ketterdam.

It's selfish, you both know it but selflessness apparently was not something in both your personality traits.

Words 1905

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung

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bangtangalicious · 3 years

Text

the glow up (6) | kth, pjm

pairing: taehyung x reader, jimin x reader

summary: after going off to college, you & your best friend committed to working out. a year later, the results show, and you cant wait for your hot hometown friends to see you. now all you wanna do is wild out and have lots of sex, and enjoy it without feeling insecure

genre: angst, smut, childhoodfriends!au weightloss!au (is that a thing) friends-to-lovers!au

word count: 3k

warnings: cheating, explicit smut: heavy making out...like HEAVY, in a pool, oral (f receiving), shower sex, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, slow burn, feelings, slut shaming, slight exhibitionism, alcohol use, choking, small daddy kink, taehyung calls you princess, swearing

part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 masterlist

Taehyung let his feet sink into the water, warmed by the body heat from the many ex-classmates of his who populated the pool. He stared out onto the horizon, the suburban hills a largely underwhelming contrast to the party vibes. He felt a presence come beside him, and the overwhelming designer perfume scent let him know it was Hobi.

“What’s up champ? Got eyes on anyone tonight?” Hobi asked, placing his hand on Tae’s back playfully. Taehyung simply sighed.

He was playing a losing game. He knew from the moment he kissed you that it was a mistake. He knew you would pick Jimin in the end, and he would get heartbroken.

But somehow he couldn’t deny you. Whenever you would text to hang out, his heart would flutter. He did his best to make as much time for you as he could this summer, soaking up every word you said, every smile you sent his way. He knew you just wanted him to have sex. But he enjoyed your company more than you knew.

He was an idiot. He pushed you too far too fast, he understood more than anyone why you needed freedom to explore your body and sexuality. You had insecurities you needed to deal with. You weren’t ready. You never were.

“I don’t think so…maybe I’ll just double team with Jungkook” Taehyung faked a laugh. Hobi gave him a fist bump.

“Fucking Jimin almost started a fight with him, so I sent them and Y/n inside to sort their shit out” Taehyung felt his stomach flip.

“Oh yeah” He couldn’t even find it within himself to pretend to look amused. He was pouting. He didn’t even care. He knew exactly what Jungkook was likely going to make of the situation, and he knew you would let him. Jungkook, like him, was more promiscuous, and had a bad reputation behaving with girls, but he never expected him to treat an old friend the same way. He called him out, but Jungkook did not have any apologies.

“She likes it Tae. I guarantee it” Jungkook had said before Taehyung almost punched him in the face.

“I hate this” Taehyung muttered, tilting his head up as he felt his eyes getting wet. The prospect of you having sex with Jungkook hurt him a bit too much. He shouldn’t care, it was your life. You guys weren’t exclusive at all. He hadn’t been loyal to you either. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” Taehyung groaned in frustration. Hobi chuckled.

“You’re in love with her”

Taehyung clenched his fists. He hated that he understood what you were going through. He hated that he was able to read your every thought and understand your every desire. He hated what you were doing to him.

“You should at least tell her. She probably doesn’t think she has a genuine shot with you. Let her know her options.”

“She’s not gonna pick me over Jimin” Taehyung laughed, “Jimin is her best friend. She literally can’t go a fucking week without him. Even if she dated me, she would still go to him for everything because he knows her better”

“You should give yourself more credit. From what I’ve heard anyway, Jimin’s been sort of a little bitch to her about all this. Some people are just meant to be friends, others maybe something more. Let me tell you…” Hobi wandered off onto a tangent about his own relationship and Taehyung tuned out. He downed the bitter watery beer left over in his cup, mentally noting to go for something stronger next time. His phone vibrated.

jungkook: ur girls tits are fire

Yeah. He definitely needed something much stronger

You woke up slowly to the sound of a booming base, realizing quickly that the party was still going on. You tried to turn but Jimin’s cock was still inside you. You smiled.

“Jimin, wake up” You called out softly, reaching your hand to stroke his head which was lazily muffled into your neck. He mumbled something incoherent, the vibrations of his voice on your skin making you blush. His body was sticky with sweat and you were both a mess. “Let’s freshen up, I don’t wanna miss the whole party come on” You nudged him and he stirred. You slowly rolled away, his cock sliding out of you causing him to groan in frustration, reaching out blindly for you on the mattress.

“Where’d you goooo” He complained, his eyes finally opening slightly. Seeing your naked figure sitting besides him he simply couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

“I’m gonna go freshen up.” You informed him, kissing his forehead slightly. “I feel gross”

Jimin sat up and cupped your face. “Y/n…wait…let’s just sort this out. I hated what just happened okay. I’m sorry but I did. I don’t want to share you. Be my girlfriend. Let’s fucking just date. I’m sorry I’ve been moody and a jerk, but beyond all that you know I adore you more than anyone in the world. No amount of distance has been able to get in the way of you and me. Let’s try this out. Let’s date”

The look in his eyes was pleading, like he was a frail piece of glass that was about to shatter. Your gut screamed no. Say no. But your heart did not want to see that light in his gaze fade. You nodded your head.

“Yeah…let’s date”

You found yourself back at the pool. The sun had set, and the rainbow colored lights made the place look magical. You really wanted to dance, the music was loud and the songs were perfect. You should feel happy, you finally had a boyfriend. But instead you felt like someone was choking you— you couldn’t breathe. You looked across the pool to see a drunk Taehyung splashing around wildly with a few girls. He wrapped his hands around one and spun her around, giggling like a mess. You wanted to be her. You wanted to play and goof off but you couldn’t.

Unknowingly a tear ran down your cheek. You put your hands in your palms, allowing your tears to fall freely. Why were you so unsatisfied? You had the perfect guy in your hands, so why were you unhappy?

You felt a wet hand on your knee, quickly wiping your eyes to see Taehyung in the water below you. He was shirtless, hair soaked, a drunken gleam in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked sweetly. You had no idea how he was managing to be nice while he was drunk. Taehyung was a wild drunk, you knew this well.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it” You stated dryly. You couldn’t bear to look at Taehyung too long, you just felt like breaking down even more. Taehyung sighed and pulled you into the pool.

“Let it happen” He whispered, bringing you into his embrace. He rand his wet hand through your hair before holding the back of your head and pulling you in for a kiss. “Don’t think. Just don’t think” His words brushed up against your lips. You moaned into his mouth, your arms finding their way around his neck, pulling yourself as close to him as you possibly could get. Taehyung held you tight and floated the two of you towards the back of the pool.

You couldn’t stop, your lips attached like magnets. He kissed you long and sweet, and you responded to his every move with even more eagerness. Your pulse races, and you felt a tingling sensation run through your chest as you shut your eyes, focusing on the hot feeling of his mouth against yours. He paused, barely aware from your face to inhale quickly. His sparkling eyes were gorgeous under the florescent lights, his pink hair almost glowing against the darkness. “Hold your breath” You nodded quickly as he captured your lips again and dragged you under the water.

The music went quiet, everything was still. All you could feel was wetness and Taehyung all over you. You let your hands find his face holding your mouth against him. Your lungs constricted as you lost air but you didn’t care. It was serenity. Taehyung’s hands moved to your hips and as if you could read his mind you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He picked you up and rose you back above the water. You both gasped for breath, smiling wide into each other’s eyes before kissing yet again. You looked around quickly to see that quite a few people were staring at you guys, which only made you smile even wider. Taehyung watched your gaze and giggled slightly.

“You just love putting on a show don’t you princess”

You turned to admire the man who held you. His soaked hair, gorgeous eyes and toned body. His lush lips and sweet voice. He winked at you and you felt your heart explode, blushing furiously. You buried your face into his chest in embarrassment. Taehyung motioned for the crowd of observers to leave the two of you alone as he rested his back against the pool wall, continuing to hold you close.

Taehyung stroked your cheek like you were a prized gem that he couldn’t believe he got his hands on. When your eyes met again your blood rushed and you kissed him furiously, whimpering softly. “Easyyy princess”

“I can’t get enough” You exhaled, barely able to speak. Your lips throbbed, swelling from the contact but you just wanted more. “Tae let’s get out of here. I want you” Your tongue traced his mouth and you softly bit his bottom lip, dragging it teasingly.

Taehyung hesitated, as if the liquid courage in his veins drained at the reality that you were not his to have. He could never say no to you. You were too amazing. He loved you far too much.

“Whatever you want princess” He playfully bit at your nose before lifting you out of the pool. You got out, water dripping from your clothes and helped drag Taehyung up as well. He grabbed himself a towel, rubbing it through his hair, and you almost drooled. He then grabbed another one and wrapped it around your shoulders so that it covered your chest.

Hobi walked over to the two of you, clapping his hands. “Wow what a performance. That was hot” He pinked your cheek playfully and smiled fondly. “You two are more than welcome to use my room” You stiffened, remembering what all had transpired on Hobi’s bed earlier. Suddenly the water on your body felt heavy. You felt gross.

“Think I could use a shower first” Taehyung stated, patting your ass lightly and squeezing it. He winked at Hobi who nodded. Taehyung took your hand into his and led you down to Hobi’s bathroom. Unbeknownst to Taehyung, you tried to hide your face with your towel. After all, Jimin was still around here somewhere. And you totally just cheated on him.

Hobi’s bathroom was as impressive as the rest of his house. The shower was spacious, clear glass walls and marble tile. Taehyung began to peel off his drenched attire. He then proceeded to undress you, almost tearing your tube top as it stubbornly stuck to your skin.

You had forgot how drunk Taehyung was but he reminded you soon enough, as your tits popped out and he went right to them, growling as he sucked harshly. His fingers found your clit and started to explore your folds, causing you to limply fall further into his embrace. He stopped to look into your eyes again, unaware of the heat soaring through your cheeks.

“Do you want to try something?” He said, his words beginning to slur slightly. You nodded and he smirked, pulling you into the shower, and turning the warm rain on. Taehyung dropped to his knees, pressing you against the glass wall and began to kiss your clit softly, letting his tongue peak through and flick against it. Your hands found his hair and your pushed his head towards you as he let his tongue slide out more, lathering you up and licking every crevice. Sensation was building up with every move and you felt like your chest would explode. It felt so good, but you missed the feeling of his body against yours.

“Tae…tae…kiss me” You pleaded. He spat on your pussy and used his tongue to mix his saliva with your arousal. You twitched as his he became harsher. “Tae”

He was not listening, too engrossed in eating up every last drop of you. He sucked, pushed his tongue into your core, pushing your thighs further and further apart. You felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn’t want to cum yet. You wanted to look into his eyes. You wanted to feel his lips on your body. The shower continued to hit your chest, rolling down onto Taehyung’s head. He rose up, licking his lips, with a feral look in his eyes. He grabbed your neck and brought his face close to you. His grip tightened and you squirmed, unsure of what he was about to do.

He watched as droplets of water trickled down from your forehead, over your supple blushed cheeks, down your bruised lips, off your chin and down the valley of your heaving breasts. “I love you” His breath hitched. “I love you y/n” He choked you harder, your breath escaping you. He let his nose drag against your face, from your ear down your neck. He bit into your collar, sucking your skin harshly to mark you.

“Taehyung I can’t breathe” You yelped. He released his grip and you took a deep breath. Your vision was hazy, the hot fumes of the water and the lack of oxygen pushing you into a feeling of light headedness. Taehyung wasted no time in pinning your hands above you and slowly pushing his now rock hard cock into you.

You couldn’t really feel what was happening, desperately trying to breathe as Taehyung bottomed out. His chest pressed against yours and his lips barely an inch from yours. Keeping one hand holding yours, he gripped your hips with the other and began pummeling into you roughly. He smacked your thigh when he felt you try to close your legs, your pussy sore from the harsh movements. He began to slow down, rolling his hips more so you could really feel his cock hit you in all the best places.

Your pussy clenched, causing him to moan out. “Is my little princess gonna cum on my cock? Gonna cum on daddy’s big cock hm? Your such a little whore for me. You love the way daddy’s dick feels in your little tight pussy don’t you? Hm?” He growled into your ear, his words sending you further and further over the edge. His thrusts became slow but harsh, as he grunted with each one, feeling his cock go as deep inside you as it could.

A wave of shock washed over you as your reached your high, your body twitching immensely. Taehyung began to rub your clit furiously as he felt you orgasm, helping you through it. You screamed out with pleasure, Taehyung cooing at you to keep going. Your ecstasy did not relent, his rapid fingering pushing you straight into another orgasm causing you to yell out his name like a prayer.

Taehyung rested his chin on your shoulder, holding you with both his hands now and let you grab his hair. He pounded into your drenched pussy as you both continued to soak under the pouring shower. “Say it…tell me you love me y/n…or are you really just the little whore they all say you are” He bit the lobe of your ear, making you gasp out at the unexpected rush of pleasure.

“Taehyung…fuck you feel so good” You whimpered at the overstimulation. You felt Taehyung smile. What you couldn’t see was Taehyung head lifting up to make eye contact with a certain someone at the door of the bathroom.

Now fully awake from his nap, Jimin stood, shocked at what he was seeing. The way you were so intimately being fucked by Taehyung, the way you moaned out his name, the way your hands were clenched in his hair as water poured down on the both of you. Taehyung’s eyes were sinister. His smirk as he continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ears.

“Say it princess. Say you love me.” He mumbled, thrusting in extra hard and making you scream.

“I…” You couldn’t think straight, feeling a second high coming, “Fuck…more Tae more…I’m so close, you feel so good. Taehyungggg” You panted feverishly, “Yes baby, I love you, I love you so much. I love you more than anything baby ahhhh” The orgasm hit you, and your pussy squeezed Taehyung’s cock so violently that he came then and there too, all while not looking away from Jimin for a second. Taehyung then kissed you, continuing to hold you against the glass.

“I love you” You panted, cupping his cheeks as he kissed you softly. Jimin felt like he was going to throw up. He couldn’t see your eyes—he didn’t even want to. His heart was absolutely shattered.

He felt tears coming on strong. This was his soul mate. His best friend. Did she really not love him back? Was this really happening? Jimin clenched his fists. Memories of your sweet laugh, your endless nights with him talking about everything. You were home to him, and now he felt as though he had lost everything. Were you really that desperate for cock? That you would ruin your relationship with you best friend? Why didn’t you just say no if you didn’t love him? Why did you say you wanted him when you didn’t?

Jimin’s thoughts ran a million miles a second and he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

He dropped to the floor crying.

Who were you? Where was his y/n? Did this glow up destroy the beautiful girl he fell in love with?

A/N: next chapter will be the ending!! thanks for following along & all your support, i hope you enjoyed it:) wonder who y/n will finally go with....

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Taglist: @honeyspillings @hollowtree10

#taehyung smut #taehyung smut rec #bts smut #bts smut net #jimin smut #bangtansmutcentral #btssmutcentralnet #btssmutclub #taehyung x reader #taehyung angst #jimin x reader #bangtan smut #dom!taehyung #jimin smut rec

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maadorii · 3 years

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JJK + different art majors

max.notes: so, i’m a art major (surprise surprise) so y’all should’ve expected this at some point. plus, art majors need more appreciation !! also, i will be using a lot of uhhh art terms? but i’ll try my best to explain them. also! i had to physically stop myself from writing too much for the explanations cause i can literally go on and on about this. so yes, this is long.

characters included: y. itadori, f. megumi, k. nobara, s. gojou & k. nanami

warnings/tags: nada

ITADORI; Painting

i was gonna give him gaming, BUT he gives me painter vibes and i’m about to explain why. painting is so widely diverse that itadori would be so immersed with its different painting styles and medias. he’s a color theory(study of colors + how they work with each other) prodigy okay? critics praise him for his usage of colors. i believe his favorite style of painting would be objective abstract art. which has a subject but it’s un-uniformed, hence the name abstract. he’s the type of painter that lets their feelings and emotions control his brush strokes + choices of colors. the overall tone. if he’s feeling angry or has pent up energy, it’s mostly dark but vivid colors and erratic movement (think of scarlet reds with orange undertones with everdeen greens.) but if it’s a calmer mood, it more flowy and smooth, using more cooler tones (think of indigo blues, purples and maybe a splash of gold.) he hates oil painting, it’s too much work and preparation. watercolor is cool but it can be tedious sometimes. so acrylic is his go to media. he always has paint underneath his nails.

MEGUMI; Animation

animation is a whole spectrum of its own. there’s so many different parts that goes into making one, whether it’s television, a film or even 5 minute short. megumi likes the tediousness, patience + dedication it takes to make an animation. there’s different concentrations that one can focus on, but i think megumi either concentrates on technical animation (which that name states, the more technical part of animation. think of it like the joints between your bones.) examples would be elsa’s hair in frozen. she has over 400,000 strands of hair and disney had to create a new software to bring her hair to life. or, he would go into story animation (which focuses on story boarding and character design) megumi would have the most fun creating fun and emersive characters for audiences to enjoy. whether it be the main character with a complex personality and tragic backstory or a simple side character that’s meant for comic relief, megumi will love and cherish every character he creates like it’s his child T^T

NOBARA; Cermanics

cermanics or pottery, is no joke. like seriously, it’s another field of precision that i, unfortunately can not do. you would think because nobara is loud and bubbly that she wouldn’t be able to do it, or have the least amount of patience for it. but she actually really enjoys it. clay is soft + mendable. controllable. and nobara likes that, cause she can make it into whatever she desires. her favorite type of clay to work with is porcelain. who doesnt like making a pretty plate or pot? after that would be earthenware, which from there can fire it in the kiln (a special “oven” for baking clay) and put pretty glazes on them uwu. and what’s even greater about this, she even makes her own clay. she’s bojuee like that ;)

GOJOU; Film + Television

you would think he’d live for the spotlight, like being an actor, but he definitely gives me director vibes. he wants his name on the damn thing. not a featuring or just a size 7 font on the rolling credits at the end. no, size 24 “directed by: satoru gojou” but of course, he starts his way from the bottom up. feels more rewarding that way. gojou will not, for the life of him, put out basic movies. he creates the most compelling, imaginative worlds and characters. they’re engaging, thought provoking even. gojou believes that every aspect of film making, from color grading to the overall cinematography is important to tell the story. dark, depressive movies with twist and turns are desaturated and mystical with up close camera shots on the actors face during pivotal moments. jumpy soundtracks and explosive cgi makes for a great action/adventure film. delves into every genere because being well-rounded is better than being a one trick pony.

NANAMI; Art History + Restoration

i love this for him. out of all the majors on this list, i think this is the most unappreciated. nanami thinks the same, so honestly, if he wasn’t a sorcerer he would be an art historian. after saving up the money, he’s opened up his own little gallery in town, collecting all sorts of ancient and wild paintings + sculptures he can find. nanami has a deep love for art history, and he wants to share that with the younger generation. he does regular tours of the gallery for elementary childern. i think he’s secretly good with childern alright? nanami is so... smooth and thorough with his descriptions when he’s talking about a painting from the edo period, he has the kids captivated and engaged. he even invites high school and university students to do restoration presentations. showing them how to properly do so from cleaning the canvas, color correcting and even stretching it out on a new frame.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #itadori yuuji #itadori headcanons #megumi fushiguro #megumi headcanons #kugisaki nobara #nobara headcanons #gojou satoru #gojou headcanons #nanami kento #nanami headcanons #jjk fluff

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miamlfy · 4 years

Text

Homemade Rings

A/N: I am on a roll with these fics. Heres another Draco fic for all you Draco lovers, my next fic will for sure be a Sirius x reader. I’ve had this idea for a while now and I’m not sure if I like it or not. Give me feedback on it, I want to know ways on how to improve. Anyways, send in some requests. I wanna hear your ideas!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy X Potter! Reader

Summary: Draco’s parents find out about his relationship with Harry’s twin sister and they do not like it.

Warnings: Lucius being an abusive prick. Jily is alive (obviously) and some Wolfstar, if you squint.

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

Enjoy!

(Not my gif, credit to whoever made it)

Waking up, the smell of bacon hits your nostrils. You sit up on your bed and stretch out your arms, letting out a loud yawn. Looking around your room, your school books were sprawled out on your desk from last night. To prepare for the upcoming OWL’s. your teachers assigned work for the summer and expected all fifth years to have it complete by September. It was utterly rubbish but you wanted top scores, so you dealt with it.

Leaving your warm bed, you made your way downstairs and entered the kitchen, “Good morning dad, good morning mum.” You said, giving each parent a kiss on the cheek. You sat down at your regular chair, next to your dad.

“Y/n, be a dear and call your brother downstairs.” Your mum said while placing pancakes onto your fathers plate.

“Harry, get your ass downstairs! Mum made breakfast which dad and I are gonna eat all if you don’t come eat now!” You yelled, making Lily jump and your dad earning a glare from her for laughing.

“Not like that Y/n and watch your language. Merlin knows where you get those words from.” You laughed mumbling a ‘uncle Sirius’ and began nibbling on a piece of bacon. Harry made his way downstairs and sat down next to you.

“Did you really have to yell? Your annoying voice probably made the whole house shake.” Your twin rubbed his eyes, as he was still half asleep.

“Awe did I disturb the dream you had about Ginny?” You teased taking a bite from your piece of toast, a light blush formed on his face.

“How was your dream about Dr— Ow!” You kicked him in the leg before he could finish his sentence, sending him a death glare as well. Your parents didn’t know about your relationship with Draco, the both of you made an agreement to wait to tell each others families. The only reason Harry knew was because he caught you and Draco making out in the quidditch locker rooms, which he deeply wishes he could erase the memory of his enemy having his sister against the wall.

“Dreaming about who now?” James asked, looking at you suspiciously.

You put on your most innocent smile and turned your gaze to him, “No one daddy, Harry is just being an idiot. Isn’t that right Harry?” You asked, turning back to your twin brother.

Harry nodded his head in agreement while rubbing the area where you kicked him. James stared at you for a few more seconds, then began talking about any recent quidditch news. When he found out Harry joined Gryffindors quidditch team in first year and you joining in your second year, he was over the moon. He bragged about it to anyone who would listen and made sure to attend every game you two had. Which also meant that you and Harry had to have practice outside of school whenever you were both home. Thankfully this summer he took it down a notch on the training since he heard Oliver Wood put the Gryffindor team through rigorous training day and night. You could still feel your bones being sore even if its been months since then.

After breakfast, Lily made you and Harry clean up which only resulted in an argument involving who would wash the dishes. You ended up throwing water at Harry, who did the same the to you. Lily sent James to stop the two of you but that only made James join in on the water fight. It ended once Lily walked in and made the three of your clean it all up, without magic.

“I asked for two kids and I ended up with three!” She exclaimed after shoving a mop into your dads hand and left the room. The three of erupted into a laughing fit and began to clean up.

When Draco woke up that morning, he knew something was going to happen that day and his guts were giving him the indication that it wasn’t something good. He dragged himself out of bed and got dressed. Going to his nightstand, he picked up the ring you gifted him for his birthday on the train ride back home. The minute you gave him the ring, he loved it. It was one of the only items he owned that was handmade with love. You told him how you made it with your uncle Remus. He placed it on his right ring finger and walked down to eat his breakfast.

He saw his mother already sitting down with a book in her hands and a cup of tea to her left. He sat down and his breakfast was placed in front of him.

Narcissa looked down, noticing the ‘new’ ring on his finger, “Where did you the ring from?” She questioned.

Draco looked down and stared at it while his spoke, “Oh um a friend gifted it to me as a birthday present.” He avoided his mothers eyes, she always knew when he lied and he hoped she would drop it. It wasn’t a full lie either.

“Friend as in girlfriend?” A smile grew on her face, Draco looked at her now. “You don’t have to hide it from me Draco, tell me about her. Oh! Lucius dear, Draco was just about to tell me about his girlfriend.” Narcissa spoke, becoming more eager to hear about the girl who stole her sons heart. Lucius sat down across from his wife and motioned for Draco to start speaking.

Draco’s palms started to sweat and his face began to redden. “What’s her name?” Narcissa asked.

“Her n-name is Y/n.” He stuttered, he wiped his hands on his trousers. Last time he felt this nervous was when he asked you out.

“And her last name?” Lucius asked, growing interested. He heard the name before, he just couldn’t pinpoint where. Draco knew his parents weren’t going to drop the conversation until they were satisfied. He sighed, preparing for the outcome. He looked over to his mother, who was smiling and waiting for him to respond.

Draco looked back down to his ring, “Her last name is Potter.”

Narcissa’s smile quickly turned to a frown and Lucius dropped the fork onto his plate.

“Don’t play jokes, Draco. They aren’t pleasant,” Draco shook his head at his fathers words, “well then I guess you’ll just have to end it then. We cannot be associated with blood traitors, especially the Potters. They are awful people.”

Draco began growing angry at his fathers words, gripping the fork in his hands tighter. Although he didn’t like Harry and was annoyed by his presence, Draco simply couldn’t categorize your family as awful. Suddenly a wave of confidence hit Draco and before thinking, he stood up to Lucius.

“You’re the awful one father, you’re simply judging Y/n’s family because you didn’t like her father back in school. I love her a lot and I refuse to break up with her.” Lucius stood up abruptly snd forced Draco to stand up. Holding him up by the collar of his shirt, Lucius slammed Draco against the wall. Narcissa let out a yell.

“You will not speak to me like that in my own house! You will break up with her Draco!” Draco flinched at his fathers shouts but he hasn’t about to back down.

“I’m not breaking up with her.” He looked directly into his fathers eyes and tried shoving him off.

Lucius threw Draco onto the hard floor, the side of his face began to pound in pain as it hit the floor. “Then you can leave and never come back.” Lucius walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the silent house.

Turning to face his mother, Narcissa simply turned around and left the room. Draco wiped away the blood that was running down his, now broken, nose. He quickly made his way up back to his bedroom and began packing. He’d much rather lose the two people who made his life miserable rather the girl who showed how to love others and himself. He left his bedroom, he debated saying goodbye to his mother but decided against it. He didn’t want to make the situation worse.

Arriving at Godrics Hollow, he ignored the people giving him weird looks. No doubt that they were all confused at the boy who appeared like he just got out of a rough fight and was walking around in none summer clothing.

He stood in front of your house feeling stupid. He shouldn’t have showed up here and instead went somewhere else. He’s never meet your family, only your brother of course. What if they didn’t want him there? What if you didn’t want him there?

His felt as if he lost control of his body because now he found himself knocking on the front door, 'too late now’, he thought. He could hear loud laughs coming from the other side of the door, his heart swelled when he heard yours. Draco also began to grow sadder, those laughs were coming from everyone inside the house, something he never got to experience in his. Knocking once more, he started to hear footsteps approaching the door.

You and your family were seated in the living room, eating cookies that your mum and you made together the night before. Your brother and dad were no help of course, along with your uncle Sirius. You were quite surprised he hasn’t showed up yet, Sirius was there almost everyday and Remus could only stop him so many times.

Laughing at some stupid dad joke James made, knocking was heard in the living room. James got up to answer it. He immediately recognized him as Malfoy’s son, the platinum blonde hair was also an obvious factor.

“Draco, what brings you here?” James grew more concerned when he saw Draco’s bruised face and blood coated nose, “here come in, come in.” He helped Draco into the foyer and called out to Lily. He couldn’t help but let his mind go back to when Sirius was in a similar position when they were 16.

You and Harry looked at each other confused, were your ears playing jokes on you or was Draco actually at your door? Your eyes widened and were filled with concern when your parents brought Draco to the couch. Almost as a reflex, you made you way to him and cupped his face with your hands. Draco winced at your touch, tears began to cloud your eyesight. You never seen him like this before, the only time you saw get hurt was back in third year with the hippogriff incident.

“Harry, go get the first aid kit and my wand,” you looked over to your brother as your mother spoke, he was frozen. His face filled with shock, he knew Lucius could be mean but he never thought he would hurt his own son. “Harry now please.” Back to reality, he nodded and went to grab the items Lily asked for.

Words couldn’t form in your mouth, you wanted to ask him how this happened and why it happened. In the back of your mind, you felt as if you already knew the answers to your questions. Draco wiped away the tears the spilled from your eyes with his thumb, you smiled sweetly at him. Your brother came back and handed the things to Lily, Harry moved you to give your parents space to heal Draco.

Once they finished, they left the room to give you two space, your closeness to him already confirmed that you two were together. They noticed the ring you made on his finger, as well. Silence surrounded the room as you laid next to him. Neither of you wanting to ruin the quietness.

“It was father,” Draco spoke softly, you looked up and stared at him, “mother saw the ring and started asking questions. I told them about you and father got angry. Mother didn’t do anything, she didn’t even try to stop him when he kicked me out.” His voice breaking as he spoke, tears that he held in, were now streaming down his face.

You held him tightly and let him cry it out, it was rare to see Draco like this and you knew he needed all the support he could get right now. You helped him enter your bedroom and laid him down on your bed. Harry let him borrow some of his clothes, as much as he didn’t like Draco, Harry knew this wasn’t about him and he knew he had to be friend not an enemy to Draco right now.

You let Draco fall asleep, whispering reassuring words to him. Once you were sure he was sleeping, you made your way downstairs to the kitchen to help your mom with dinner. Lily noticed you walk in and motioned you to help cut the vegetables.

“How long have you guys been together for?” Your mothers soft voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Nearly a year and before you get upset with me, we both wanted to wait till we told our families. We were just worried that something like this would happen.” Lily simply nodded and gave you a smile.

“Well you two look well for each other and I couldn’t be more grateful.” The two of continued to cook in silence.

Draco woke up from your bed and he saw a note on your nightstand, ‘Don’t worry love, I’m in the kitchen helping mum with dinner. Feel free to come down and sit in the living room, love you.’ He smiled and looked in the mirror, he face looked a lot better but it was still bruised.

He left your room and looked around in the hallway, Harry’s room was across from yours. The door was slightly open, he noticed a few posters on his wall. Mostly of quidditch. His parents never allowed him to put posters on his walls, they thought it was ugly and didn’t match the aesthetic the Manor held.

He walked down the stairs and entered the living room, he noticed your dad sitting in one of the chairs, reading a books. Making his way towards the same couch he was once on, he sat down and James looked up from his book, giving him a warm smile.

“Lily and Y/n are finishing up dinner, I’m assuming you must be starving.” Draco gave him a nod.

“I want to thank you, Mr. Potter for allowing me in your home. I know I just showed up without warning, which I apologize for but it was the only place that came to mind.” Draco played with the rings on his fingers.

“Please don’t apologize, this isn’t the first time something similar like this has happened and we can only accept you with open arms, and please call me James. Being called ‘Mr. Potter’ makes me feel old.” James set his book down on the coffee table, “I’m not going to lie Draco, when Harry and Y/n came home for the holidays in their first year and told us about how you would bully them, or more bullied Harry and his friends, I wanted nothing more than to set you straight. But I look at you now and I see a boy who grew up with the wrong beliefs. I can tell now, that you merely were engraved with the wrong words. I remember when Harry told me you and Y/n became friends in third year and although I didn’t enjoy it at first, I knew my little girl would help you become better and see things in a different light.” Draco’s eyes glistened.

“The ring your wearing,” James pointed out the ring Draco was wearing on his finger, “she said she made it for someone special and someone she loved. The second I saw it on you, I knew just how much you mean to her, the way she described every detail on it to Lily and seeing how happy it made her, made me incredibly happy and wonder who was the lucky boy or girl making my daughter gleam with happiness. You are family now, Draco. We will always be there for each other and you are welcomed to stay here for as long as you need to. The Potters will always welcome you with open arms and warm food, clothes, and whatever you need. Don’t feel like a stranger here.”

You stood by the door, as you saw your dad and boyfriend hug it out. You cleared your throat while smiling widely, “Dinner is ready, mum said to call Harry down dad.”

“Harry, dinner is ready! Hurry up or you’re going to miss out!” Your dad shouted, already making his way to the dinner table.

“Oh for merlin’s sake James, not again.” Lily scolded.

You held out your hand towards Draco, “Come love, dinner is extremely delicious tonight.” Draco smiled and took your hand.

Harry entered the room, “Dad please stop yelling, you and Y/n really need to stop doing that already.” Giving a smile to Draco, he sat down across from you.

“Never dear brother, what were you doing anyways? Trying to come up with a plan to sneak into the girls dorms and make out with Ginny?” You teased, Harry threw a piece of bread at you.

“Oh good luck on that Harry, Sirius and I could never figure it out. Let me know how it goes.” Lily hit James’ head,

“Don’t encourage him dad, the last thing mum needs is a later from him explaining how he got Ginny pregnant.” Now it was Harry’s turn to kick you, “Ow!”

“Speaking of which, Draco you will be sleeping with Harry in the meantime while we prep a room for you, I am way too young and handsome to become a grandfather.”

“Of course sir, Harry you won’t mind if I put up some Slytherin posters right?” Draco gave a cheeky smile to Harry, which resulted in Harry’s having a playful scowl on his face.

“Wait dad, I thought you were fifty?” You said.

“Hey! I’m far from fifty!”

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter x sister!reader #jily au

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sgtjbbhasmyheart · 3 years

Text

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Four

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2960

Warnings: Itsy bitsy amount of angst, bad language words, mentions of phone sex and masturbation

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

“James?”

You held your breath after you uttered the name into the phone’s speaker. Your heart galloped at the thought of actually speaking to him. You’d be lying if you had said you hadn’t imagined how his voice sounded. You pictured something deep and raspy but drawled and sweet.

In the last five days, you’d imagined many things about James. Not just the sound of his voice, but his laugh, too. Rich and soothing. And of his scent- distinctly his own or a fresh, citrusy cologne of bergamot and tangerines. You imagined his rough, calloused hands sliding over your skin in slow motion.

And how he kissed. You daydreamed about that, too. Often. You couldn’t count how many times you’d stared at his sorry excuse for a selfie. You found yourself drawn to it daily. It was only part of his face, but what you could see was ruggedly handsome. His lips looked soft and delectable. You pictured yourself nibbling on his bottom lip, deepening its color to blush pink.

A sharp sigh escaped through your nose as you waited for his reply. Maybe he hadn’t heard you the first time? “James?” you asked again. “Hello?”

No response.

You pulled the phone away from your ear to make sure you were still connected. The call-time counter ticked ominously second by second on the screen. You tucked the device back under your hair to find the call was still active.

Did he get cold feet and change his mind last minute? He hadn’t hung up yet, so you weren’t exactly sure why he was waiting. Maybe he was tongue-tied? Or hadn’t expected you to pick up?

“Did you butt-dial me, James?” you laughed, trying to dispel some of your anxiety.

You heard a muffled “ shit” and two beeps. You glanced at the phone’s screen again, and call ended flashed in bold white.

Ignoring the hang-up, you immediately re-dialed James. The line rang and rang. And rang.

You weren’t confident you were going to speak with James, the longer the rings continued. He wasn’t ready to talk to you yet, and that was okay. It had only been five days.

Five days wasn’t long enough to build a bond over stupid Would You Rather? questions or form a simmering crush on a stranger that made your stomach flip whenever he sent you a funny cat meme. Nope. Five days was much too short of time for anything.

A generic voicemail greeting clicked over and rudely beeped at you. You took a deep breath and quickly thought of a reason to be calling someone who didn’t want to talk. “Hey, James. Just calling you back. It’s (Y/N), by the way. I’m not sure if you meant to call the first time or if sneaky ninjas have accosted you and somehow did a crazy pocket dial. Y’know, because of the whole military-trained assassin athlete mchottie thing. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And no pressure! If you’re not comfortable talking on the phone, I completely understand. I’m sweating bullets just talking to your voicemail box.” You chuckled nervously. You were starting to babble.

“Anyway,” you continued. “I hope you’re well. And don’t leave me hangin’. I really wanna know if you’d rather sneeze every hour or burp when you saw a pretty girl.” You laughed again. “Goodbye, James.”

You mashed the end call button and face-planted into one of the throw pillows on your couch. You groaned loudly into the fabric, chastising yourself in your head. If he didn’t want to talk before, he most definitely wouldn’t want to now. You shook your head in disbelief. Sneaky ninjas, seriously? What. The. Fuck?

Hours later, while in the middle of a Say Yes to the Dress marathon (dammit Robyn!) and a self-induced diabetic coma of ice cream and chips, your phone vibrated. You swat at it on the coffee table with a foot, only to realize you lack the limberness or the dexterity in your toes to retrieve the phone. As a result, it tumbled to the ground as you groaned in displeasure. Cursing your luck, you bent forward to pick it up. Awakening the phone’s black screen, a text popped into view.

James Sorry

Your heart lurched for a moment. With every second that had passed since you’d left your voicemail for James, the least likely you’d felt he’d call back or even respond. Hence the pity party with Ben & Jerry and Cool Ranch Doritos.

James My so-called “friends” grabbed my phone from me and led to accidentally calling you.

Ahh, the old “invade-your-friend’s-privacy” maneuver, you thought, shaking your head.

James I didn’t want to hang up on you, but I’m not quite ready to talk yet. I like what we have.

Your heart flopped. You liked what you had, too, but a small part of you- a dumb part- wanted just a little more.

Shaking off the feeling of longing churning your insides, you thumbed over the screen to reply.

You No worries, James. We can go at whatever speed you like.

It was weird to have the guy, for once, want to take things slow. Usually, it was always you pumping the brakes in the relationship. Was this even a relationship, though? Were all the texting and personal questions leading somewhere? Or were you bound to end up friends with an interesting story to tell your other friends?

Not allowing your negative thoughts to curtail the joy of finally texting James again, you quickly punched out:

You I’m just glad you’re okay and not being held for ransom somewhere.

James It would take a whole horde of ninjas to take me down.

You giggled at the confidence contained in this one text, but talking to a girl on the phone threw him for a loop. We are definitely back in junior high, you thought.

You You sound awfully confident for a man who wouldn’t talk to a friend on the phone.

James You don’t want to talk to me.

You pinched your eyebrows together in frustration to form a crease between them. Was he serious?

You Sure, I do. I have a bet going with myself on how your voice sounds. Is it deep and masculine or high-pitched like you sucked in helium?

James Which are you betting on?

You pulled your bottom lip in by your teeth, biting softly. You smirked as you thought of the two options. The former would be nice, but the latter would be pretty damn funny.

You I mean, deep and masculine is very desirable. Listening to the low timbre of a man’s voice is very relaxing for me. But, considering the ridiculous “selfie” you sent me, I’m placing my money on high-pitched.

James What was wrong with my selfie?!

Somehow, you knew that would get him worked up.

You Well, for starters: I can only see, like, part of your face! Did a blind person teach you how to take them??

You And secondly, there clearly wasn’t enough “Blue Steel.” With cheekbones and pouty lips like yours and a chiseled jaw, I’d be blue-steeling the shit out of all my selfies!

A wave of remorse washed over you once you hit send. Had you really compared him to Zoolander? Not only had you objectified him by mentioning how aesthetically pleasing he was (let’s face it- he’s really, really, really ridiculously good looking), but you may have criticized him for his terrible selfie abilities. At that moment, as you waited for the inevitable “fuck off” text to come through, you wished for a giant sinkhole to appear under your apartment and swallow you whole. What were you thinking?

James First off, I’m a selfie amateur. My past line of work limited my contact and/or exposure to the outside world. I didn’t learn what a selfie even was until recently. Remember, I’m also a man of mystery. I’m trying to keep up appearances and can’t reveal too much.

James What is “Blue Steel”? I’m not very pop-culture savvy unless it happened before 1944.

James Did you just call me pretty??

Your cheeks flushed with the heat of a thousand suns. He called you out as you expected him to do.

You Uh...

You Are we gonna talk about the fact you said you didn’t know about pop culture after 1944?? You are a grandpa!

James Nice try with the subject change! Admit it- you think I’m pretty.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, that would be the thing he focused on out of the whole conversation.

You I have no idea what you’re talking about.

If all else fails--deny, deny, deny.

James Right. Sure about that, doll?

Your pulse spiked.

You never did like pet names before you met James, but doll had a goo-ing effect on you for some reason. Everything seemed to turn to mush whenever he mentioned the word.

You Absolutely. I have no reason to believe that if you weren’t a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie, you’d be a male model. None what-so-ever.

James Uh-huh. I’m going to pretend that you aren’t lying through your teeth and getting back to our scintillating game of Would You Rather?

James I’d burp every time I saw a pretty dame, by the way. I wouldn’t want to take my chances with sneezing in my sleep. Would you rather eat only fruits or vegetables for one year?

Several nights after the voicemail incident, you were sitting in Penelope with Robyn after work. She wanted to meet up to decide which centerpieces worked best for the reception. Scattered across the table were three samples she and Kevin had narrowed it down to. With your thumb, while playing with a corner of the hand-drawn example closest to you, a sigh escaped your nose.

Your sister’s talent mesmerized you. Each storyboard showed the intricate detail of the flowers and candles themselves and what the tables would look like next to each other with every centerpiece. You were in awe.

“These are so good, Robbie! They must have taken forever to put together,” you said, admiring a different sample on the table.

“Nah,” she replied, brushing the compliment aside. “Just an afternoon’s time last week.”

“Well, shit. I hope they’re paying you the big bucks at work.”

She quirked an eyebrow devilishly as she reached for her drink. “You know it,” she jested before taking a sip.

You laughed at her cheekiness. Robyn had always been a go-getter. One of the many attributes you loved about her. Never took no for an answer.

“Soooo,” she drawled as she set her glass down. “How have you been?”

You looked up swiftly, eyeing her suspiciously before returning your gaze to the storyboard in your hands. “I’m still alive if that’s what you’re asking.” You set the drawing down to take a drink from your glass. “Haven’t been murdered yet, but the night is still young.”

Robyn rolled her eyes at your petulance. “You know I worry about you. Are you still texting James?”

You smiled sweetly. “Each day that goes by, you act more and more like Mom. You know that?”

Robyn scoffed. “I do not!”

She could deny it all she wanted, but Robyn was turning into the spitting image of your mother. You laughed again. “You do too. Even down to the eye roll.”

She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for you to answer her question.

Two could play this game.

You wiped the corner of your mouth with your napkin unhurriedly. “If you must know, yes, James and I are still texting.”

“Has he sent any dick pics or asked for nudes?” Robyn asked earnestly.

“Yup. We engage in wildly pornographic phone sex every night.”

Robyn glanced around the restaurant with eyes wide as saucers, making sure none of the other patrons heard you. “(Y/N), I’m serious! Has he propositioned you?”

You huffed a small laugh. “Nope,” you admitted. “In fact, he’s the one that wants to take things slow. He accidentally called me the other day and hung up from jitters.” Robyn didn’t need to know the full truth.

“The jitters?” Robyn queried.

“Yeah. I even called him back, but he let it go to voicemail.”

“Then, he must be weird or ugly.”

You grimaced at her assumption. “Ew, Robbie. Don’t be gross,” you chastised. “He’s the opposite of ugly. I might even go as far as to call him handsome.”

“How? You don’t know what he looks like,” Robyn questioned.

You took a quick sip of your drink, holding up a finger. “Au, contraire mon frère. He sent me a selfie in the very beginning.”

Robyn looked at you, perplexed. “You know you just called me your brother, right?”

You waved a hand at her to dismiss her accusation. “Ma soeur just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” You pulled your phone out to offer proof.

“You can barely see his face!” she exclaimed. “What if he’s horribly disfigured on the other side? Or missing an arm?”

You shrugged. “Then, he’s missing an arm.” You got a distant look in your eyes as you recalled the last ten days of texting with James. “He’s different, Robbie. He’s smart and funny and caring. Polite. It feels like he has an old soul. He calls me doll for chrissakes!”

“Are you sure he isn’t some crusty, old man?” Robyn gagged at the thought.

“No, I don’t,” you chuckled in response. The faraway look returned after a moment. “To me, he’s just James.”

Realization dawned on Robyn’s face, lighting her up like a light bulb. “Oh, my god. You like him.”

“Well, yeah,” you acknowledged, “he’s my friend.”

“No. You like him like him.”

Your face reddened quickly with the awareness of your feelings. They weren’t real, were they? Shaking your head, you replied, ”Nothing will happen, Robbie. It’s just a crush.”

Skeptically, she agreed, “Uh-huh.”

“What?”

“I believe that as much as I welcome a cold sore on my wedding day.” She scrunched her nose at the thought of a gross, red blemish on her face for her big day.

“Fine,” you acquiesced. “If I fall head over heels, madly in love with James by your wedding day, I’ll owe you a hundred bucks.”

Robyn raised a sculpted brow in interest. “I’m listening.”

“One hundred dollars. End of negotiation,” you stated. “I don’t have a spare hundred bucks, so it will be a motivator not to fall for James. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

She smiled smugly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Uh-huh.”

“Will you stop saying that?” you said, throwing a piece of lettuce at her face. “You definitely sound like Mom.”

Robyn huffed in annoyance, back-handing your shoulder softly. “Shuddup! I do not!”

You chortled heartily at the mini tantrum she was throwing about becoming Mom. You’d say anything at this point to get her to forget about you and James.

In all honesty, there was no you and James. Not really. You were friends, but could you move past that?

He was hiding something.

Something big.

And it wasn’t part of the whole “man of mystery” persona, either. James was holding back.

He had a hard time giving up anything personal to you that went beyond his likes and dislikes, which led you to believe he had found it difficult to trust.

It angered you deeply without really knowing why. Something in his past had sparked the inability. You only wish you knew what.

Deep down, you could really see yourself falling for James, and that scared you to death.

Breaking you from your reverie, Robyn piped up, “You know, James is probably jerking off to your voicemail.”

“Oh, absolutely!” you retorted, both of you dissolving into a giggling fit.

After leaving Robyn with a clear choice for centerpieces, you made your way back home. After a fifty-minute subway ride, you popped into the corner bodega for some essentials for the coming week.

Sauntering up the stairs to your third-floor walk-up, you steadied your armful of groceries with each step. It had been a long week, and now with the revelation of how you felt about James clouding your mind, a glass of wine, ice cream, and a bubble bath sounded good right about now.

You could barely see over the bags and juggled them precariously. As you stepped onto your floor, you recognized the voice of your next-door neighbor down the hall. He was talking with someone, but you couldn’t tell with whom or what about.

Blindly, you called out, “Hey, Peter? Can you be a lifesaver and help a neighbor out?” You heard the scuffle of footsteps over tile rush toward you.

Sighing in relief, you relinquished two bags to the arms reaching out. “Thanks, Pete! You’re a pe-”

You stopped mid-sentence when your view was finally cleared. Your sixteen-year-old neighbor wasn’t standing before you but a tall man with chestnut hair tied in a knot. Your lips parted slightly as your eyes widened to take in the figure’s full breadth holding your groceries.

Your eyes flicked to Peter as everything came back to focus. He was adjusting your other two bags in his arms.

“Miss (Y/L/N), this is Mr. Barnes from my Stark internship. He’s a friend. He was helping me with some history homework,” Peter explained, gesturing to the hulking man standing outside your apartment door.

“Peter,” you admonished, “how many times-” Last names weren’t meant to be spoken by friends slash neighbors.

Peter winced. “Right! Sorry, (Y/N)!” he apologized. “This is Bucky.”

Recognition crossed your face at the name. Smiling, you stuck out your hand in front of you. “Bucky Barnes, it’s nice to meet you.”

Bucky shifted one of your bags in his arms to reach out his hand. He smiled softly, “ Li-likewise.”

Chapter Three | Chapter Five

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#drunk texting is(n't) bad for your health #dtibfyh #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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spine-buster · 3 years

Text

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | three

A/N: Thanks again for your positive feedback on this mini-series! Please keep those canon questions coming as you guys know I loooove answering them to help build the canon! This one is a short one but it will be made up for by the last two chapters.

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

* * * * *

Brock and Grace were having fun. Actual, genuine, real fun. Whenever they were together, they were smiling and laughing and kissing and having a good time. They’d go out to eat at Vancouver’s best restaurants. They’d take walks in parks or along the seawall. They’d get coffee at cute little cafés and munch on bespoke cookies or donuts that would make Brock complain about extra hours in the gym. They’d invite Elias and Svea with them and it would be great, because they were great, and they’d all just be constantly laughing. Grace and Svea got closer – much closer. Elias and Brock were tearing it up for the Canucks. Grace and Svea would go to bars for a glass of wine before going to games together. They’d cheer and clap and sing along with all the songs being blasted throughout the arena.

Fun. Life was fun.

***

“How do I bite it?!” Brock was incredulous at the size of the cupcake Grace got him. It was bigger than his jaw could open. Elias and Svea were already ready with their damn phones to film him. “I can’t…” he tried to bring it up to his mouth.

“Just put the whole thing in your mouth!” Grace exclaimed.

“That’s what she said,” Elias mumbled, only to garner a disapproving mother look from Brock and a slap on the arm from Svea. “What! Isn’t that the joke?!”

“Don’t be crass,” Svea chastised before focusing her attention back on Brock. “Just bite the thing, Brock. Just…just stuff it in there,” he pretended to do the motion herself.

“Again, that’s what she said.”

Grace hit Elias too this time.

***

“You can get us reservations to Hawksworth?” Svea asked in shock.

Grace nodded casually, like it was the easiest thing in the world to get a reservation at Vancouver’s best and most exclusive restaurant. “The Gillespie’s own the Rosewood Hotel Georgia.”

“You do?”

Grace nodded again before sucking back on an oyster. “When do you want to eat there?”

“Oh, I – I don’t know. Can I get back to you?”

“Of course! Just let me know.”

“Wow Grace,” Svea said. “You really do have the world at your fingertips. Vancouver especially.”

Grace shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a blessing and a curse. I can’t go anywhere without running into someone that knows my dad or knows who I am and thinks they know me. It’s even worse when they knew my dad a long time ago and only ask about how he’s doing with his Parkinson’s now. Most of the time they don’t even truly care. And I’d trade it all in, every single penny, if it meant my dad never got Parkinson’s.”

Svea couldn’t imagine living that kind of life. She didn’t know how Grace did it – or Brock, for that matter. She would be a sobbing mess on the floor every single day. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive when I—”

“Oh God no. No no no – you don’t need to apologize. I just…” Grace paused, trying to collect her thoughts. “I know how fortunate I am, believe me. I just don’t think people know that – that I know I’m fortunate. But Parkinson’s – any chronic illness – it really humbles you. Most people don’t know what that’s like. And like, thank God they don’t. But they think they know.”

All Svea could do was nod her head and listen.

***

Whenever Brock sent a text that said ‘come over and watch a movie’ Grace knew what that really meant. But instead of finding it lewd, she’d slather on some raspberry chapstick and be on her merry way to Brock’s apartment.

When they were done, and lying in bed together, with her head on his chest and her hair sprawled everywhere, that’s when the talking would begin. “How’s your dad doing?” “Are the new round of meds working?” “Is he having more trouble getting up now?” “What are the doctors saying?” “How’s his memory?” “How’s the swallowing?” “Are the doctors recommending speech therapy?”

“When I quit dance, my dad was so disappointed,” Grace revealed one night as Brock was running his hands through her hair. “It was the only thing I was ever really, really good at. I wasn’t the best in school. I just didn’t get things the way other kids did. And when I told him the reason, he made me promise I’d keep doing dance in some capacity. I maybe wouldn’t do it super-competitively anymore with him driving me all around BC and flying me all over Canada and the US to attend competitions, but I’d still do it. That’s why I teach at the Goh Ballet. Like…I know I’m not the smartest girl in the world, but I like to think I have a big heart. And I just hope that people see that.”

“I wear number six because it was my dad’s number,” Brock revealed too, one night when they were alone. “I wanted…I wanted to make sure that if he wasn’t around, my career would still honour him in some way. I want that to be my legacy…like, everything I do, I do for my dad.”

Grace nodded. She completely understood. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who knows and understands exactly what I’m going through,” she said. “Do you think it was fate that brought us together at that meeting?”

Brock found himself nodding his head automatically. “Of course,” he said softly.

***

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have you at the house for dinner, Brock, but our chef is on vacation,” Eliza Carmichael, Grace’s mom, smiled from across the table as she sipped on her glass of wine. From beside her, her husband, Grace’s step-dad James kept perusing the menu, as did Grace’s two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo, who were seated at opposite heads of the table.

“Oh that’s no problem at all,” he smiled politely, grabbing Grace’s hand underneath the table and squeezing it gently before putting it in his lap. “I actually come here with the boys sometimes. The food here is amazing.”

“It is, isn’t it? James knows the head chef,” she said. “Grace tells me you’re a hockey player.”

It was at that point that James put down his menu. “Honey, he plays for the Vancouver Canucks. We’ve been over this.”

Eliza rolled her eyes playfully before picking up her menu. It was only at that point that Brock noticed the giant rock on her finger. It was the size of his eyeball. “Grace tells me you live in Shaughnessy,” he said, trying to make polite conversation. “I hear that’s a beautiful neighbourhood.”

“Oh, it is. Perfect place for the quiet life hockey player’s lead,” James joked. Brock forced out a chuckle.

***

“I love this song!!!” Grace exclaimed as the DJ began to play some old school Rihanna. She downed the rest of her drink and slapped the glass against the bar before grabbing Brock’s arm with one hand and Svea’s hand with the other, knowing that Svea would, on instinct, grab Elias’s arm and drag him to the dance floor too.

The club was completely unstuffy. There were no girls dressed to the nines, no four-inch stiletto heels digging into Grace’s feet, no people showing up just to be seen in booths with bottle service. It was completely unpretentious and that’s how Grace liked it. Considering her lifestyle and her wealth, it was actually how she liked everything. So when the DJ began playing pop songs, she couldn’t help but start dancing uncontrollably. To his credit, Brock did too. It was like he lost all his inhibitions and began moving his body in tune with the music. Even Elias and Svea did, and Grace knew how…well, quiet they were. This wasn’t their scene at all but they were having the time of their life dancing with each other, spinning each other around and moving to the beat of the music.

For at least a night, Grace could forget. She could forget how her parents used her to get back at one another during an awful divorce. She could forget her mom re-married an equally as nice guy as her dad but became more pretentious as the years went on and the wealth accumulated. She could forget that she made the decision to quit dancing professionally. She could forget her dad had Parkinson’s. For one night, everything was perfect. Everything was fun. Everything was how it should be.

***

“Fuuuuck, baby,” Brock groaned as he watched Grace climb on top of him, leaning forward so she could press his breasts up against his face. He immediately took the opportunity to place wet, open mouth kisses all over her breasts, kissing down to her nipples before taking them in his mouth. He could feel her grab his cock and lower herself onto it, sighing at the feeling of him filling her up. “Feel good?”

“You always feel amazing,” she smiled, her hair falling around her face. “That’s why I can’t stop fucking you.”

Brock chuckled, a cocky smile on his face as he reached up and brought Grace’s face down so he could kiss her and stick his tongue down her throat. “Ride me, baby,” he mumbled against her lips.

Grace began rocking her hips back and forth, her body moving so expertly and so in tune with Brock’s. Almost immediately, she began to moan, and Brock grabbed her hands and intertwined their fingers so she’d have something to brace against. Brock was in a trance – as he usually was when Grace was riding. He was completely and utterly transfixed by her in every sense of the word, and in every way; from the hair on her head to the red nail polish on her toes.

“God, I fucking love you, Grace.”

The words had barely escape Brock’s mouth before he realized the magnitude of what he said, how he said it, and when he’d fucking said it. God, he was such a fucking idiot!!!!! During sex?! Really?! Way to live the cliché Brock Boeser! Way to be a fucking idiot and—

“I fucking love you too, Brock,” he heard Grace say, a smile adorned on her face. The both of them giggled, and couldn’t stop giggling for a while even though she was still riding him. It was miraculous. “Way to say it for the first time while I’m riding you,” she joked.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he said.

“You’re lucky I love you, because that’s such an amateur move, Brock.”

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fanfics4all · 4 years

Text

Unknown Weasley

Request: Yes / No Maybe a Draco Malfoy X Weasley Fem Reader..? Y/N got put into Slytherin (Ginny’s twin) and never really fit the Weasley stereotype. Her family kinda forgot/neglected her and favored Ginny. Then they find out Y/N is dating Draco and they flip and she lashes out at them. A LOT of angst please, tyyyyy 💚🖤 Anon

Requests are open <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Weasley!Reader

Word count: 2317

Warnings: Kind of abuse in a way

Y/N: Your Name

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When I watched my older brother’s go off to Hogwarts I was so jealous. They got to go off and not be stuck at home being forgotten. I was stuck home being overshadowed by my twin sister Ginny. She was the favorite of the family and everyone always forgot that I was even alive. It was horrible. But when the time finally came to go to Hogwarts I was so excited. This was going to be my time to no longer be forgotten. Ginny got called up before me and she was placed in Gryffindor like all of our family. Then I was called up and the hat was placed on my head.

“Another Weasley, but you’re different from the rest. Where to put you…” It thought for a moment.

“I know… Slytherin!” It shouted and my eyes widened. I looked at my family and they had the same shocked expression on their faces. I got off the stool and walked over to the Slytherin table with my head hung low. Some people at the table were whispering about me.

“Isn’t she a Weasley?”

“Shouldn’t she be put in Gryffindor like the rest of her pathetic family?”

“What is wrong with her?” I tried my best to ignore them, but I couldn’t. They were right. Great now my family will remember me, but as the disappointment…

The first year I just kept my head down and didn’t bother with anyone. It didn’t feel that much different than at home. Ginny had obviously told our parents that I was in Slytherin and they were so unhappy they didn’t want me coming home until school was over. When I got home, boy did I get an earful.

“How the bloody hell could you be a Slytherin!?” My Mother shouted.

“I didn’t choose to be in Slytherin!” I cried.

“I bet she did, she’s never been like us.” Ron said and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Go to your room, no supper for you!” Mother shouted and I ran up the stairs. I got shoved into the attic and that’s been my room ever since. I threw myself onto my bed and cried my eyes out, until I fell asleep.

That’s how the summer went pretty much. My house would be brought up a few times a week and then I would be sent to my room with no food. I hated it. Everything just got so much worse and there was nothing I could do to fix it…

When it was time to return to Hogwarts I was shocked that my parents actually made an effort to remember to take me back. I walked onto the train and found an empty compartment. I decided that I would get a head start on studying and so I took out my old books and got to reading one. Everything was fine until the train started moving and someone opened the door to my compartment.

“What are you doing here?” The voice of Draco Malfoy filled my ears. I looked up to see the platinum blonde boy with silver eyes.

“Um, sitting and studying?” I answered with furrowed brows.

“Shouldn’t you be with your pathetic blood-traitor family?” He asked with a sneer and I rolled my eyes.

“No, they’re not happy with me.” I answered, looking back down to my book.

“Because you’ve ruined their perfect Gryffindor line?” He asked with a laugh.

“Yes actually, so unless you’re going to actually sit in here during the ride, I suggest you fuck off.” I answered without looking up from my book. There was silence and I heard the door close. What I wasn’t expecting was Draco sitting next to me. I glanced up and he was staring at me.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Your family is honestly upset with you because of the house you’re in?” He asked and I nodded with a sigh.

“Believe it or not this is the most attention I’ve gotten from them.” I said and his eyes wided.

“Really? I thought they loved all their children.” He said and I shook my head.

“No, well I don’t know if they don’t love me, but they certainly don’t like me.” I said.

“I know what that’s like…” He whispered.

“What?” I asked and he looked up at me.

“My Father is quite strict with me and honestly it seems like he doesn’t love me sometimes.” He answered. I closed my book and placed my hand on his.

“I’m sorry Draco, no one deserves that.” I said and to my shock he didn’t pull away.

“You don’t either.” He said and I smiled. For the first time in my life I felt happy and like I was seen. The whole train ride Draco and I kept talking about what we were interested in, what we were excited about this year, and about possibly going to Hogsmeade together. Draco even bought me a few of my favorite sweets. I was shocked that the person that was so mean to my family and their friends was being so kind to me. But we understood each other. We were each in similar situations and that seemed to be bonding us.

I thought that when we finally made it to Hogwarts Draco would go back to ignoring me and making fun of me like everyone else does, but to my surprise he didn’t. Draco actually pulled me to sit next to him and introduced me to some of his friends. They were shocked that him of all people was socializing with a Weasley, but he quickly shut them down. Lucky for me my family seemed to be ignoring what I was doing which meant my parents wouldn’t have another reason to be disappointed in me.

Throughout that year I started falling for Draco and when the trip to Hogsmeade came around Draco had actually asked if we could consider it a date instead. I obviously agreed and it was perfect. Draco was the perfect gentleman and insisted on buying me whatever I pleased. We first went into Dominic Maestro’s Music Shop and looked around. That’s where we each learned our music taste. Then we went to Honeydukes where Draco spoiled me with my favorite candies. Draco wanted to go into Spintwitches Sporting Needs and he got new gloves for Quidditch.

“Maybe you could come see the game against Gryffindor this Friday?” He asked and I smiled.

“I’d love to, only if you promise me that we’ll win.” I said with a smirk.

“Of course love, I’ll make sure to work extra hard for you.” He said and I blushed at the nickname he gave me.

“You’re cute when you blush.” He whispered and I blushed harder. He grabbed my hand as we exited the shop.

“Hungry?” He asked and I nodded, not trusting my voice just yet.

“How about The Three Broomsticks?” He asked.

“As long as we can get Butterbeer.” I said with a smirk.

“Whatever you want love.” He said and pulled me along with him. We each sat down and quickly ordered Butterbeers.

“What do you want, love?” He asked.

“Hmmm, I think I might order the shepherd’s pie.” I said looking over the menu.

“You have good taste.” He said with a smirk.

“Obviously.” I said and flipped my hair with a giggle. He chuckled and moved closer to me.

“You are so beautiful.” He said and I blushed hard.

“Would you do me the pleasure of being my girlfriend?” He asked and I stared at him in shock.

“Y-You want me to be your girlfriend? But you could have literally any girl in Hogwarts!” I said and he chuckled.

“And you’re the one I want.” He said and I smiled. Out of all the girls in Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy wants me.

“Then I would love to.” I said. Draco’s smile widened and he placed his arm around my shoulder. Our Butterbeers arrived and we each ordered.

The date went perfect and Draco didn’t want to be shy about our new relationship. He wanted everyone to know that I was now his girl, but I was worried about my family. I convinced him to keep it a secret, but he definitely took risks. When we had off periods together he would pull me into an empty hallway and kiss me wherever he could.

“Draco we’re gonna get caught one day!” I whispered.

“And today won’t be that day, trust me love.” He said and went back to kissing my neck. I bit my lip to hold back a moan and he smirked against my skin.

“Y/N? What in Merlin!?” I heard my sister shout and my eyes widened. I pushed Draco off and we both stared at her.

“Um… I-” I didn’t know what to say.

“What are you doing to my sister?” She growled at Draco. He looked at me and I was just standing there in shock.

“If you must know, I’m kissing my girlfriend.” He answered and pulled me closer to him.

“What?” She growled, this time looking at me.

“You’re dating this git!” She shouted.

“He’s not a git!” I said snapping out of my shock.

“Have you gone mad?” She asked.

“No, I’m perfectly sane! Just go on and tell the family about it already.” I said and turned my back to her.

“Unbelievable…” I heard her say under her breath as she walked off.

“Are you alright, love?” Draco asked and placed his hand on my arm.

“I’m fine… They were bound to find out anyway…” I said quietly, but I could feel tears pooling in my eyes.

“Hey, I know you’re hurt.” He said, walking in front of me and lifted my chin up.

“It’s alright, love, I’ll be here for you always.” He said and pulled me into his chest.

“I love you Y/N.” He whispered and I clung to him.

“I love you too Draco.” I said.

Throughout the rest of the year Draco and I had become public with our relationship. My brothers and sister sent glares my way and refused to even speak one word to me. Draco was always trying to take my mind off it and keep the smile he gave me on my face. But when it was time to go back home Draco tried to convince me to come home with him. I told him I couldn’t and that I needed to face this. So when my parents picked us up it was dead silent. But as soon as we all entered the house my parents turned to me with the worst expression they’ve ever given me.

“You are dating Draco Malfoy?” My Father asked.

“Yes.” I answered.

“Are you mad? His family is evil!” My Mother said.

“But-”

“This is unbelievable, our sister is dating the biggest git in the school!” George said.

“Maybe he spelled her.” Fred said.

“With the way I found them, she was most definitely not spelled.” Ginny said.

“Honestly, after everything he’s said and done to us and you still picked to date him?”

“Stop it!” I shouted and everyone looked at me.

“Stop talking about him like that! Draco has been nothing but a gentleman to me! He’s been better to me in this short time than any of you have ever been to me! For the first time in my life I don’t feel like I’m not good enough, or like no one can see me! Draco is the first person to actually see me for me and not just another Weasley! He makes me feel special and like I’m not just in the background!” I shouted and all they did was stare at me. I didn’t wait for their response. I stormed out of the house and ran. Draco had gotten me a ticket for the tub in case I needed to come see him. That’s exactly what I did. I ran up to the large door of Malfoy Manor. I knocked on the door and a house-elf answered.

“How can I help you Miss?” He asked.

“Is Draco Malfoy here?” I asked as I fiddled with my hands.

“Yes, let me go get the Master.” He said and let me inside. I stood in the foyer and awkwardly waited for Draco to appear.

“Y/N?” Draco asked and I looked up at the top of the stairs.

“Are you alright?” He asked, rushing down.

“I’m fine, but I had a fight with my family…” I said. He pulled me to him and kissed my head.

“I’m sorry, love.” He whispered. Tears started falling and I didn’t even know I was holding them back.

“You can stay here, my Father can have people get your things.” He said.

“Are you sure they’ll be alright with me staying here?” I asked and he smiled.

“You’re a Pure-blood so I’m sure they’ll be happy with that.” He answered and I cracked a smile.

“Come, let me introduce you.” He said and pulled me through his house.

“Draco, who was at the door?” His Mother asked without looking up from her book.

“My girlfriend.” He answered and both his parents moved their attention to us.

“A Weasley?” His Father said.

“This is Y/N Weasley, her and her family had a fight because she’s in Slytherin and dating me.” He said and they both raised their brows.

“You were placed in Slytherin?” His Father asked.

“Yes sir, my family was very unhappy with me.” I answered.

“You poor dear.” His Mother said.

“Can she stay with us this summer?” Draco asked.

“A Weas-”

“Of course dear, but she stays in one of the guests rooms.” His Mother answered, cutting off her husband.

“Thank you. Come on Y/N, I’ll show you to your room.” Draco said with a smile and pulled me along. Maybe this will also be the first good summer I have.

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