#we’re very far apart in age so it’s hard to stay close
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Making plans with your very much younger sibling
#dick grayson#damian wayne#dick and damian#batfam#dc#art#my art#fanart#this is based on how my sister asks to sleep over#we’re very far apart in age so it’s hard to stay close
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Hooked (Jerome X Reader)
Ok, so this is a thing. I was kinda surprised nobody had used this scene yet, because the Gotham fandom seem to collectively agree that Jerome is BIG KINKY and yet the one scene where he canonically has people cuffed up and hung from the ceiling... nobody has touched??? Y'all have been sleeping on that scene! It's fanfic gold!
Anyway, enjoy the hedonism. Much love xxx
Warning: SMUT, 18+, GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, BDSM, bondage, cuffs, dom/sub, vaginal fingering, oral sex, biting, spanking, slapping, pussy slapping, light choking, spitting, belt whipping, praise/degradation, marking, mention of scratching, Jerome is big meanie pants mean man
The new mayor of Gotham is having a meeting with his council members, but things take a turn when the Legion of Horribles show up to kidnap them and reader. When the victims are being unloaded from the truck, Jerome Valeska notices reader, because she isn't exactly on the guest list.
Tag list of lovelies: @gabile18 @valeskaduh @fangirl--writes @persephoneblck
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I had been working as a housekeeper for the new mayor. It was a good job, but I wasn't appreciated. I was just there to clean and serve when needed. I don't think he even knew my name. I was just hired help to him. To all of them.
He was hosting a dinner for his council that day. I had been placed in the corner of the room with a bottle of expensive wine where I was to wait until wanted. He gestured for me to come forwards and fill their glasses while they started talking about their displeasure with the rising foul play in the city, like it was anything new for Gotham. The chairwoman wanted to know what he was going to do about it. Very little in my opinion. He was just coasting. In too deep over his head. He had been appointed far too fast and everyone knew it. He wasn't going to last.
He made an attempt to save face and talk about how he too was disturbed by the recent goings on and was doing everything he could. Trash, utter trash. As he rose from his seat, the lights fizzled out. I stopped pouring. Had this been any other city I would have assumed it was a simple power outage, but nothing was that simple in Gotham. The security guard closed us in and went to see what was happening. The air turned icy. No, this was not good. Gunshots and screams came from the hallway and everyone rose from the table terrified. We quickly started walking towards a door hoping to make an escape, but there was something about the windows. They were freezing over.
The doors burst open and I dropped the wine. It smashed into pieces as a blueish man in some kind of robotic suit and a weird looking, but huge gun stepped into the room. Was that Victor Fries? Then through the second set of doors another man in a top hat who I recognised as Jervis Tetch burst in with some other strange looking friends.
Before I could comprehend the situation, we were all being cuffed and taken outside. Our kidnappers pushed and pulled us towards a huge truck, all the while the mayor tried to buy his way free. He was showing just how little he really knew about the underbelly of Gotham. I knew just by looking at them that they were probably Arkham escapees and couldn't be bought like a sane man could. They had their own plans and you can't bargain with crazies.
We got to the truck and they opened the back door. My blood ran cold when I saw that standing there waiting for us was Jerome Valeska. Of all the criminals Gotham had seen he had been the only one that had scared me, truly and thoroughly. He didn't have any kind of reason for what he did. He just enjoyed death and chaos. And after his last escapade he looked like madness personified, his scars circling his face and eyes and giving him a permanent evil smile. Dread consumed me as I realized that he was no doubt the leader of this operation and if that was true, we were already dead.
I felt myself jolted forwards. The mayor had pushed me in front of the rest of the council to get whatever was coming first. If I wasn't cuffed, I would have turned around and broke his nose. I was lifted into the truck, my hands were pulled above my head and fixed to two hooks. I had to stand on my toes to keep standing which made it awkward and difficult as they pushed me to the back of the truck.
Was that Penguin? What was he doing here? He didn't belong here. I had gone to Penguin looking for a job in his club when I was 16. He was impressed with my audition, but when he asked my age, he rejected me.
"This establishment is not a playground for children. It's a nightclub." He had told me. At the time I had been steaming mad, but in hindsight he was probably right. Even if he was rude. So, after that, I found it hard to understand why he was here and working with Valeska. Maybe he had been kidnapped too?
The rest of the council were loaded on and hooked. The mayor was still trying to offer them money and pardons. When he saw it wasn't working, he resorted to empty, unintimidating threats. Jerome was completely unfazed and even a little disappointed in the lack of smiles.
"Nobody knows how to have fun anymore, right?" He said putting his arm around Penguin. So, he was a part of this.
Jerome pointed to a scary looking figure dressed like a scarecrow. Johnathan Crane? Crane released some kind of purple gas in the face of a member of a council. She started laughing and convulsing violently.
"What have you got to lose? Except your sanity?" Jerome joined in the crazy laughter. So, this was his plan. He'd figured out a way to forcefully drive everyone insane. With a gas.
I silently prayed to God in my mind for any kind of help.
After sufficiently terrifying us half to death, they left us in the back of truck. None of us could say anything and after a few minutes the truck started moving.
"Is she ok?" I asked looking towards the victim of the insanity gas.
"Who cares?! We have to figure out what they want and get out of here." Replied the mayor.
"Maybe they want publicity for whatever that gas is. Offer them some TV time." Guessed the chairwoman.
"Don't you get it?! This isn't a situation you can buy your way out of!" I snapped, frustrated with their idiocy.
"These aren't normal criminals. They don't want your money. They want chaos and madness." They stood there silently stunned. They had never heard me speak with such confidence, but in that moment, they knew I was right.
After what felt like hours the truck finally stopped.
"What's going on?" The mayor whispered.
Everything was quiet. We listened for any noise or sign of life. All we could hear was our own breath.
Then suddenly the doors flung open once again and in hopped Valeska, Tetch and Crane.
"We're here!" Jerome grinned.
The other two started to pull the council one by one off the hooks and walk them out of the truck, closely watched by Jerome. Until they got to me.
"Wait..." He stuck an arm out to stop Tetch from unhooking me.
"Who's she? She wasn't on the party list." He took a few steps closer to me.
"This poor young girl is an unlucky maid. Wrong place, wrong time. Very bad day." Jervis explained looking at me.
"Would you like me to... dispose of her?" Asked Crane, stalking close to me and lifting needle covered fingers to my throat.
"Not so fast, Mr Potato Head." Jerome said pulling him away from me.
He came so close that we were only inches apart. He looked down at me as if he was thinking for a few seconds then smirked and turned around to the others.
"Guys, go and see that our guests are comfortable, will ya? Get everything ready." He ushered them out of the truck. Fear travelled up and down my body. This had all been a bad situation, but being alone with Valeska scared the hell out of me.
"You're lucky I have a soft spot for pretty little girls." He closed the truck doors and turned to look at me.
"Freddy Krueger there... not so much." He relaxed, leaning back against the doors with his hands in his pockets. "You got a name?"
I stayed silent, more out of fear than defiance. He sucked his teeth and stood up straight.
"I get it. You're scared. Who wouldn't be, right?" He started slowly walking closer. "But things will go a lot smoother if you just play nice."
I still couldn't find any words.
"Aw, come on, doll! I'm getting awful lonely over here." He brought his hands up out of his pockets and leaned against a wall of the truck.
He was quiet for a few seconds and I noticed that his eyes were making their way up my legs. Being held up by my wrists on my tip toes had pulled my uniform skirt up and almost all of my thighs were exposed. I blurted out my name in an attempt to distract him from my bare legs. He smiled.
"What a pretty name. Now, was that so hard?" He pushed himself off the wall and came a little closer.
"So, you're the mayor's dust bunny, huh? I gotta say, doll, I can see why he keeps you around." He chuckled, eyeing me.
My whole body flushed and my face turned hot and red.
“But, uh, the thing about mayors in this town, they don’t last very long.”
"Please let me go." I whimpered.
"Oh, but we're having such a good time! Plus, if I did that, you'd scamper off to the GCPD and I can't have good ol' Gordon crashing the party early."
I scoffed at his suggestion. Not likely. I had a distinct distaste for the GCPD. They hadn't helped me when I needed them. I would never need them again.
"What's the matter? He book ya before or something?" Jerome smiled with intrigue.
"My parents... they... did things to us. When I ended up in the hospital one too many times..." Tears stung my eyes as I remembered. "They left me there and disappeared with my little brother. No one ever managed to track them down."
I didn’t fully understand why I was opening up to Jerome, but for a second, I saw a spark of humanity in his eyes. Like he understood my pain. I'd heard his first kill had been his mother, so maybe he did?
"I'd give anything to see him again." I sniffed and a tear rolled down my cheek.
"Yeah, I had shitty parents too." He sighed. "I killed them both."
I had thought about what I would do if I ever saw my parents again. What I would say, what I would ask. I could never think of the right words. But the thought of killing them, well that made me smile.
"What was it like?" I asked.
Jerome grinned from ear to ear and stepped closer so that we were toe to toe.
“Have you ever stood at the edge of a really tall building? You know that little voice in the back of your head that says ‘Jump! You can fly!’ even though every other part of you is screaming ‘No you can’t! You’re gonna kill us!’”
I nodded shakily.
“It’s like finally giving in to that voice. Like jumping off Gotham Bridge and finding out you can fly. And realising you never have to walk again.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and my heart felt like it was going a million beats per minute. His eyes were locked on mine and it felt like he was looking straight into my soul.
“You wanna fly, doll?” He brought his hand up to cup my jaw and ran his thumb along my bottom lip.
It wasn’t humanity I saw in Jerome Valeskas eyes. It was freedom. A freedom that I had wanted for as long as I could remember. And I could have it right now. He was offering it to me. The only thing standing in my way was myself.
“Yes.” I breathed. “Yes, I do.”
The next thing I knew, his lips were crashing into mine and he had hooked his hands under my thighs and was holding them around his waist. His kiss was desperate and hungry, like he had been starved for days and his grip on the bare flesh of my thighs was rough enough to leave bruises. I locked my ankles together behind him to steady myself from swaying underneath the cuffs. When I did, he drove his crotch forwards, grinding into my centre, a quiet moan escaping me as I felt him.
He slowly trailed a hand from my thigh, up my back and to the nape of my neck, before balling my hair in his fist. I gasped as I felt the sudden, sharp tug of him pulling my head back.
His eyes wandered down to settle on my exposed throat, before yanking my head to the side and nestling in the crook of my neck. He must’ve left a hundred open mouth kisses, but as he started to suck, I felt his teeth sink into my skin. I pulled back with a hiss at the sting, but he wouldn’t let go. He just kept on leaving harsh, red bitemarks and pulling my hair, all the time grinding harder into me.
He licked over the bruises he’d left and gently kissed them, before trailing his tongue up my neck to nip at my ear. He smiled darkly and pulled back away from me, dropping my legs back to the floor. He stalked around me, eyeing me up and down like a predator. I felt him behind me, his hands softly holding onto my waist, pulling me close to his chest.
“You know what’s great about this?” He cooed. “You’re already pre-cuffed.”
I flushed and my core swelled hot, his breath so close to me made my skin tingle all over. He pulled at the top of my skirt and dragged it down my hips, letting it fall down around my feet. He caressed my thighs and then stepped back, tugging at my underwear, playfully letting the elastic snap back to me.
“Y’know...” He said, before the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling. “Marquis de Sade said ‘sex without pain is like food without taste’...”
My eyes widened at his words and my heartbeat quickened.
“So, let’s make this... delicious.”
A million thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could process any, I felt the sharp snap of leather against my ass. I jolted forwards and let out a high pitch yelp.
Even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell he was smirking. I could hear it in his voice. I bit my lip in an attempt to brace myself and he landed the belt across me again.
“Please, Jerome...” I whimpered at the sting, closing my eyes.
He brought it down again, making me arch my back in a gasp. A couple of tears rolled down my cheeks and I realised there was little point in resisting the torment. So, I gritted my teeth and prepared for another lick of the belt.
He whipped me once more, harder this time and a small scream escaped me.
“Please!” I begged.
I heard him chuckle with dark delight. The bastard was enjoying this. Of course he was. What else had I expected from someone like him? I tightened all my muscles for the next sting...
But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt him pulling my underwear down. Relief washed over me when I heard the belt drop to the floor and I realised Jerome was finished and was now crouched, ready to inspect his work. He ran his fingers over my burning flesh, taking in the bright red lashes he had left on me.
“What a pretty picture?” He said, landing a spank. “I wish you could see too doll, but having you cuffed is half the fun.”
His voice was dripping with venom and arousal and I could practically feel his grin in the air. He traced the marks with his fingers a little longer, before grabbing my flesh in fistfuls and sinking his teeth in. I gasped loudly at the hard bite. I wasn’t sure how many more of Jerome's surprises I could take. He laughed and ran his tongue over the new bruise.
“Yep. Definitely a pretty picture.” He smiled, giving me another spank. “I like those little noises you make, doll. Why don’t you make some more for me?”
He snaked his hand up my inner thigh and began stroking along my slit, relighting the fire in my stomach. I moaned, biting hard on my lip and tried to bring my thighs together, wanting friction.
“Naughty.” He said, landing a swift slap on my entrance causing me to let out a little yelp. “I need you to keep those legs open for me.”
It wasn’t as bad as the belt. In fact, it felt quite good. The heat inside me swelled as Jerome returned to running his fingers back and forth in my slickness. I hummed softly in my throat, fighting the urge to close my thighs again, my knees starting to shudder underneath me.
“Look how wet you are and I’m barely touching you.” Jerome chuckled darkly. “I wonder what happens if I do this?”
Jerome plunged two fingers deep inside me and slowly started pumping them. I let the warmth roll through me, moaning blissfully. He gently started to pick up speed, making it nearly impossible for me to keep my thighs apart. The faster he got, the deeper he dove, making me tighten around his talented fingers and struggle to keep steady on my toes.
My legs were shaking and despite my best efforts I just had to squeeze them together. As soon as I did, Jerome removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty and spanked me hard.
“What did I say about that?” He barked, laying down another spank.
His spanking felt different this time. It felt pleasurable and sent a thrill up my spine.
“Sorry.” I whimpered.
“Sorry for what?” He spanked me again. “For being a needy little whore? Hm?” Another spank.
“Yes!” I gasped. “I’m a needy little whore! I just...”
“What? You just what?”
Jerome landed another slap at my core. It made my muscles clench, but it also aroused me so much more in a way I’d never thought I’d experience.
“What? What do you want, whore?”
“Please...”
“Big words, princess. What...” Spank. “Do you...” Another spank. “Want?”
“I want... I want you...” I forced, breathlessly.
“You want me? What do you want me to do, princess?” Jerome teased, tracing a finger along my burning entrance, just barely touching me.
“Please... Make me feel good, Jerome... Make me cum.”
“Are you gonna be a good girl?”
“Yes...”
“Are you gonna do as I say?”
“Yes, I will.”
“Exactly as I say?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Just please...Jerome.”
I couldn’t take it any longer. I felt so pathetic and needy. I needed him to touch me.
“So desperate.” He giggled sadistically. I supposed he loved seeing me beg.
Then, finally, he spread me open and dove his tongue deep into my wanting warmth. I closed my eyes and bit down hard on my lip as he swirled his tongue around inside me. I wanted to grab his hair and feel it in my fingers, but all I could do was squeeze my fists together in empty frustration.
Jerome grabbed a hand full of my ass, gripping it tightly, digging his nails in and rose his other hand to my pelvis front, pulling me down further onto his tongue. I squealed, a delightful mixture of pleasure and also pain from the tugging on my aching forearms. He ran his front hand down to play with my swollen clit, circling his fingers around beautifully.
He grinded his face deeply into me, sliding his tongue up, down, around and around inside me. He pressed his fingers down harder on my clit, forcing a loud moan out of me. I felt the pressure inside me build, coiling and tightening like a burning spring. I squeezed my thighs around his head in a desperate attempt to pull him deeper, his tongue nestling inside finding all of my sweet spots and lighting them on fire.
I could feel myself ready, ready to burst. He was pulling an amazing orgasm out of me and I wanted nothing more than to just let it go. All it took was one more upward jolt of his head, pushing his tongue that last little bit deep enough to push me over. I screamed out in erotic pleasure, letting the feeling flood me like warm water. My back arched and my legs convulsed until I withered, letting myself dangle from my cuffs in a breathless defeat.
Jerome slid his tongue out of me and pulled his face back away.
“You sing so pretty, dollface. Like a little birdie.” He said, squeezing the flesh off my ass.
He gave me one more light bite and a spank, before he rose back up to stand, snaking his hands along my sides all the way. He let his hands wander up to cup my breasts, massaging them softly. He leaned in close and began leaving wet kisses in the crook of my neck. I shuddered, his touch sending a cool tingle down my spine. He let his hands squeeze my breasts slightly harder, then pulled away and crept back around in front of me.
He stood facing me, his eyes locked on mine. They seemed to burn holes right into my flesh, creating a sense of fear in me. I was scared of Jerome Valeska, I truly was. But everything he was doing to me right now... The way he touched me, kissed me. I wondered how he managed it. How he was able to both terrify and arouse me in equal amounts.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t register his hand rising until it was firmly wrapped around my throat. He leaned down to kiss me, dominating my mouth with his tongue, making me taste myself. Once again, I felt the familiar warmth build in my core as I sensed we were not quite done here. He finished the kiss with a little nip to my bottom lip.
“Are you scared of me, doll?” He purred.
I swallowed hard, unsure if truth was wise here. Then I felt him increase the pressure around my throat, not wanting to wait for an answer.
“Yes.” I breathed.
“Good.” He said through an evil smirk.
He crashed his lips to mine once again, his free hand picking up my thigh to wrap around him. I locked both my legs around his waist, wanting to feel him close against me. I felt his erection hard, under his clothes, grinding into me and I wanted it. Badly. He pulled away from the kiss, leaving his taste on my tongue and raised his hand from my throat to grab hold of my face. He took his other hand away from my thigh and pulled at his tie. I didn’t drop my legs this time, instead I gripped tighter as he slid his tie from around his neck and scrunched it in his fist.
“Open your mouth.” He ordered.
I did as he said and he smiled, before spitting into my open lips and gagging me with his tie. I’d never had anyone do that before and it shocked me a little, but then again, I’d never had anyone like Jerome Valeska before.
He backed up slightly, just enough for him to reach down and unzip his trousers and pull down his underwear, freeing his erection. I couldn’t help but look down at it. It was bigger than any I’d taken before and I wasn’t sure how prepared I was. He started to slowly stroke himself, lifting up my chin to look at me.
He gently stroked a single finger across my jaw and then, suddenly, landed a harsh slap across my cheek. I yelped at the slap, causing a dangerous smile to form on Jeromes mouth. I should’ve been repulsed by him. He killed people and was aroused by my pain and fear, so why was I so attracted to him?
He angled himself underneath me so he was lined up and ready. He wrapped his hand back around my throat and then pushed forwards into me, causing us both to let out deep moans.
“You like that?”
I nodded and whimpered through the material of the tie. Jerome giggled darkly and with his free hand, gripped onto my waist.
“Brace yourself, princess.” He warned, through a poisonous smile.
He pulled back slowly, until he was almost completely out of me and then, like a bullet, ploughed himself right back in, jolting me backwards with force. He continued his thrusting rough and fast, making me whimper and bite down hard on the tie. I closed my legs tightly around him, pulling him closer and forcing him in deeper.
He let out a low, guttural groan and moved his hand upwards from my waist to slap me again, spitting at my face as he did so. I closed my eyes to endure the onslaught of him pounding inside me like a raging animal. I felt like a toy, dangling there for him to use as he liked, but still the searing pleasure of it all made me moan lustfully.
“Open those peepers, princess.” He commanded. “I want you to see exactly who’s in charge here.”
I opened my eyes and saw him grinning at me like a man possessed.
“You like this? You like me fucking you?” He growled, gripping my throat tighter.
All I could do was whimper and moan in response.
“I cuffed you and hung you up, hurt you, spat on you... even made you cry! And you still let me fuck you?” He laughed through shallow breaths. “You’re pathetic, you know that? A pathetic little whore.”
Jerome threw another slap at me and I felt myself tighten around his considerable length, taking him all deep inside me. He drove up into me like he was trying to break me open with his girth and I welcomed every inch of it.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He moaned.
I clenched my walls around him, the feeling of being filled by him sending flutters through me as he pushed in deeper and laughed.
“I don’t think your pussy ever wants to let me go, doll!” He grinned. “But I already know you like taking my cock like this, cause you’re such a good girl for me... I like that.”
I flushed at his words. I didn’t know why, but it made me feel good to please him and, in that moment, I would have done anything for him. I could feel my ecstasy creeping up on me, like magma rising inside a volcano. I cried out wantonly, the heat rising as he worked me, exploring every detail of my canal with his thick shaft.
He let go of my throat and moved both his hands to grab onto my ass and squeezed, steadying me so he could pound me harder and climb to release. His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I could tell he was just as close as I was. I moaned loudly as he rammed into me harder and faster, burying himself deeper and making my arousal burn.
I could feel it coming, so close. I was about to boil over and all I needed was him. Just him. He continued thrusting like a raging animal, digging his nails into my flesh and scraping them along my ass, stinging sweetly. I whimpered at the sensation and tightened my legs.
“Cum for me, doll.” He panted. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
He plunged into me, pushing the magma higher and just so close to bursting. It was coming. I could feel it.
He pounded again. So close. Again and again, so hard inside me. Just a little more...
I screamed out, closing my eyes and letting everything go. The feeling of my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave of pure elation. My whole body shook from the force of it and I trembled like a leaf. Jerome continued to thrust into me until he too reached his climax. He growled like a beast and I felt him throb, releasing his hot load of sticky lust deep inside me.
We both relaxed, catching our breath and he stared down into my eyes. He unlatched his hands from the flesh of my ass and brought one round to gently stroke my cheek with his fingertips. It was quiet, but only for a minute.
He threw his head back and laughed like the madman he was, before pulling out of me and stepping back. My legs dropped to the floor and he began to put himself away and zip his trousers back up.
“Well, that was fantastic, dollface. Thanks for playing nice with me.” He said, throwing me a wink.
There was a loud metallic knock at the truck doors and I guessed whoever it was, was trying to get Jeromes attention.
“It’s been fun princess, really. But time waits for no man and I’ve got a party to attend” He said, smiling at me. “Well, more like crash.”
When he turned to leave, I tried to speak, but all that came out was intelligible muttering. He wasn’t going to leave me here, dangling, half naked and gagged like this? Was he? He began walking to the truck doors and I tried to call out.
“Oh! Wait, almost forgot.”
I felt a flood of relief when he began walking back to me.
“I’m gonna need this back.” He said and pulled the tie out of my mouth.
I was glad to finally be rid of it, but my joy was short lived, because he was starting to leave again.
“Hey...” I croaked; my mouth dry.
“Yeah, I’ll have someone come get you later.” He said, too nonchalantly for my liking. “For now, you can just... well, why don’t you just hang out?”
He laughed at his joke and opened the doors.
“Hey! You can’t leave me here!” I tried to shout, but my throat was too dry.
And then... he was gone. He really did just leave me alone, half naked in the back of a truck. How long would it be before someone found me? An hour? Two? The rest of the day?
All alone with my thoughts now, I decided the only thing to do now was wait. Wait and try and go over what the hell just happened between me and Jerome Valeska.
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midnight snack.
18+ nsfw content, minors dni. all characters are aged up.
masterlist.
content warnings: oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (use protection irl pls!), quirk use (electro stimulation), a hint of overstim, & a sprinkle of degradation. f!reader.
notes: all i could think about while writing this was “and they were roommates! ohmygod they were roommates.” also thank u bria ( @rekiri ) & sun ( @kiridarling ) for keeping me sane while writing this, ily both <3
wc: 3.0k
You rarely got hungry in the middle of the night. You usually went to bed full of food cooked by yourself or ordered takeout by your roommate, Denki. Tonight was different, however. You had been working on a project, one that was taking up far too much of your time due to your incompetent group members causing you to pick up the slack. You had been stressed beyond belief lately because of them. Maybe a small stretch would help clear your mind, you reasoned to yourself internally. While you were at it, a midnight snack wouldn’t be too bad. It would help ease your nerves, even. You stood from your desk, stretching your arms above your head and cracking the joints of your shoulders. Now exiting your room, you threw a glance across the hallway to see the light under your roommate’s door was still on. Of course he was staying up again, when did he not? Probably off playing video games with the guys again.
You yawned, bare feet pattering against the hardwood of your apartment floor on your way to the kitchen. You shivered, wearing only a cropped sweater you had thrifted and a pair of your comfiest shorts. So what if they were a little short on you, they did the job of keeping you comfy while you slept. No one besides Denki saw you in them, mostly because you wore them to bed. Opening the fridge door, you cringed at the harsh lighting hitting you square in the face. You bent over, eyes scanning the bottom shelf for something to pique your interest. Since you figured Denki was in his room, you didn’t bother to bend your knees while you were searching for your snack.
“Uh- I uh, whatcha lookin’ for?” Denki’s voice cracked slightly. What were the odds? Your head whipped up so fast from the fridge, you nearly knocked into the door of it. Your face began to overheat as you saw your roommate standing there in his pyjamas, fighting off his own blush as he looked at you. Had he seen how your shorts rode up your ass, giving the perfect view of the lace black panties you had been wearing that night? Maybe. The answer was most definitely a yes, but he wasn’t going to admit that to you. He really didn’t want to die by your hands.
“I was, well I was grabbing some water,” you fumbled for your words as Denki approached you, moving around the bar counter of your apartment to peer into the fridge himself from behind you. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead indicating that he had just hopped out of the shower. No kidding, he had used your fruit passion shampoo along with lemon scented body wash again. You felt his hot breath on the back of your neck from how close he was to you, your tongue wetting your lips as you tried to ease your building nerves. You were never so nervous around him, he was your roommate and your best friend. The two of you had always been comfortable around each other.
You stood perfectly still, razor focused on the fruit cup on the top shelf to distract your mind that was buzzing with electricity. He smelled so good. He felt awfully warm. And he was incredibly close to you, so much so that you could hear his own inner monologue if you listened hard enough. You were so caught up in your thoughts that your mind barely registered that his hands were sitting comfortably on your waist. “Hey,” Denki spoke up, “Did you wear that for me?”
Processing his words, there was a tiny heat that began to burn low in your stomach. “I’m sorry?” you squeaked out.
“The black lacy ones. The ones that make me want to eat you out on the counter until you’re screaming. Did you wear those for me?” his voice was low, whispering deliciously into your ear. Sinful thoughts were clouding your mind, your previous intentions of getting a snack now lost to the idea of possibly choking on something else entirely tonight. “Denki—” His hands slipped beneath your shirt, stopping just below your breasts. You were starting to feel something hard poking at the cheek of your ass. Your breath hitched, thighs clenching together in an attempt to tame the growing heat between them. The two of you had been dancing around the notion of having feelings for each other for a long time.
You tried to look the other way every time he would stare at you for just a small bit longer than he should. He pretended to not notice the way you sat so very close to him, despite the entire couch being free. The way your fingertips brushed his thighs when you leaned over him to grab the remote. The way his touch lingered on your hip when he went to pass behind you while you cooked dinner together, his palms warm and jittery. Everything clicked together so perfectly for the two of you, it was beginning to become undeniable and almost comical at this point.
Tonight only made you more desperate for some type of release, since all of the previous tension between the two of you had crescendoed into Denki moulding his lips to your neck and sucking deep purple marks in a lovely pattern against your hot skin. Your legs felt weak, a strained moan escaping you. Between the cool air of the open fridge and his hands exploring your torso, it felt like heaven. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples eagerly, his name falling off your tongue as if second nature. You wanted him bad. And he wanted nothing more than to strip you of your clothes and have you right there in the kitchen.
Your legs quivered as he touched you, allowing yourself to lean back against him and succumb to his affection. “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long, baby,” the confidence radiating off the blond was dripping right into his tone. It made more of that liquid heat manifest in your lower half. You were quite certain that those lacy black panties Denki had been talking about now had a wet patch from all of his ministrations. His hands kept massaging at your breasts, small whimpers leaving your lips as you whispered out how you needed more from him. You panted, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to your skin. Your hips seemed to move on their own as you wiggled your ass right up against his prominent hard on. “Fuck,” he swore, fingers dipping into your shorts and past the waistline of your underwear to feel your slick. You were soaking from his touches, thighs shaking and fingers finding purchase in blond locks as his finger pad grazed your aching clit. “More,” you whined with need, “I wanna.. I wanna touch you, please.”
Denki’s mind felt like it was melting. Was this a dream? He never wanted to wake up if that was the case. He inserted a finger into your core, heart fluttering upon hearing you moan out for him again. Your walls hugged his single digit, his dick twitching at the sensation. You were feeling unbearably sensitive for some reason that night, the way his thumb drew circles around your clit paired with his finger reaching within you made your head light. “You’re so greedy, look at you fucking yourself on my fingers. Moaning like that for me. From how much you walk around like a little slut, you had this coming,” Denki nibbled at the lobe of your ear before adding a second digit, curling his fingers and further sending you into your pleasure. “Denki,” you called out again, head tossed against his shoulder, ass rubbing right against his dick in ways that made his head spin. “You’re so wet, do you hear that? Holy fuck, I can’t wait to taste you,” Denki’s words made the coil inside the pit of your stomach snap, your first orgasm of the night finally washing over you as you clenched around his fingers. It took all of Denki’s willpower not to cum in his boxers right then and there. Falling against him for support, your hips lazily rolled against his digits to ride out your high.
“Up on the counter babe, we’re not done yet. I’m still feeling a bit hungry,” he murmured into your ear. The two of you backed away from the fridge, leaving the door open to allow some light in the darkened kitchen. You turned to face him, seeing a bit of a loopy smile on his face despite his lust blown pupils. You wasted no time in connecting your lips, tongue sliding into his mouth with ease. Your body pressed his against the cool granite of the counter, his hands drifting lower down your back to meet the flesh of your ass. He tapped your ass a couple times, his fingers pinching at the fabric of your thin shorts. “You won’t be needing these,” he chuckled deeply against your lips. His drop in octave made you shiver. Your own hands mapped out his body, feeling across his abs that he prided himself on as a pro-hero while your other went right for his cock.
Your excited fingers pulled down his gray sweatpants along with his boxers, his cock springing free from its confines. There was a lovely amount of precum beading atop his reddening head, your thumb swirling the natural lube around his tip. The action elicited a groan from the blond, grabbing a bit harder at your ass. You were gentle, teasing even, your eyes glazed over in lust as your hand pumped his dick at a slow tempo. Denki’s hips began to fuck into your hand, his chest heaving as he took this time to shed himself of his t-shirt. He felt entranced by how your fingers looked so delicate fisting his cock, breath hitching in his throat as your wrist rolled with each stroke of his dick. “Do you know how— fuck — how long I’ve waited for this?” Denki’s words are gentle, his neck craning back down to nip at your exposed skin.
“Too long?”
“Way too long.”
You giggled and he groaned, a low rumble against your soft skin that makes you shiver yet again. You smirked with amusement as you felt him pulse in your hand, yet Denki pulled away from your touch just as you were about to tip him over the line to his own orgasm. “You, you first,” he told you, golden eyes trained on yours, “I like seeing you come undone for me.”
A whimper escaped you, his grin hungry with want for you and only you. “Let’s see how good you taste,” he pressed a final kiss to your lips as he eagerly dropped to his knees. With a shy look in your eyes, you allowed your legs to spread, giving Denki a full view of your pretty pussy. He was practically salivating, eyes taking in your wet sex with a strange fire lit behind them. He was eating good tonight. With your fingers threading in his hair and tugging lightly, he took it as his signal to go. You sucked in a gasp of surprise as something cool touched your already slick entrance. Oh, you had forgotten that Denki had a fucking tongue piercing.
Instinctively, your thighs started to close around Denki’s head. He held them open with ease, the metal ball of his piercing following the tip of his tongue as he happily traced your entrance. “Denki,” you huffed, growing frustrated at his languid pace. For a man who seemed rather eager, he was going very slowly. Denki hummed in response, lips now attached to your clit and you felt your body jolt at the feeling. Fuck. Maybe you should have bit your tongue instead. Channeling electricity through his quirk, you felt a shock emitted from the tiny piece of metal in his mouth to your aching clit. “Denki!” you moaned, eyelids fluttering as you struggled to keep your gaze on him. Your hands kept pulling at his semi-damp hair, rutting your hips as best as you could into his face as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. You felt ten times hotter than you did when you first entered the kitchen, your hands expelling your own sleep shirt to the floor as Denki moaned at the sight of your exposed tits. This gave him the opportunity to push his tongue into your pussy, your toes curling at the sensation of his tongue entering your heat. He had his fun, darting his tongue in and out of you as he kept moaning to keep up the tiny vibrations. Moving his bangs away from his eyes, you could only watch as he ate you out with his skilled muscle.
His tongue reached deeper inside of you, his hands holding your thighs apart firmly as they were threatening to clamp around his head with more force. You hadn’t anticipated that Denki would be this fucking good with his mouth. Your inner walls squeezed around him, your moans picking up in volume. Your nipples were peaked, your back arched and your head thrown back as all you could do was continuously grind your hips against his face. This only edged the blond further, his nose stimulating your swollen clit as his tongue delved as far as it could into your dripping cunt. You nearly screamed his name as you were finally tipped over the edge, your chest heaving as Denki suckled at your sensitive lower lips. He drank your essence happily, your body prickling with heat as he drew back to watch in awe at how your pussy fluttered invitingly around nothing. He was drunk on the feeling of you cumming on his mouth. You two were definitely doing that again.
As you steadily regulated your breathing, Denki slowly got up from his position on the floor. Wiping away a bit of your cum from the corner of his mouth, he threw you another grin. You swallowed dryly, “Need you.”
“What was that, baby?”
“Need you, Den. I need you in.. Please.” Your eyes were begging him to give you more. You had seen how much his cock had been leaking onto the kitchen floor, practically throbbing between his legs from not having given release. With a cheeky sort of smile, Denki gave you a kiss to your cheek before settling his lips to the shell of your ear. “Whatever you say, babe.”
In an instant, you were swept off the counter, your body being caged between the closed freezer door and Denki holding you up from beneath your thighs. His cock fell heavy against your stomach, twitching in its desperation for attention. The light emitting from the open door of the fridge illuminated the right half of the electric blond’s face, his expression lustful and giddy in the harsh LED lighting. It made your heart buzz with anticipation, your body tensing as he eased the head of his cock past your folds. Your hands scrambled for his shoulders, fingernails leaving red crescents along his creamy skin. Denki’s eyes were on you, his breathing irregular as you wasted no time in pulling out and thrusting back in with confidence. His lips swallowed your moans, the wet, lewd sounds of your fucking adding more tinder to the heat now coiling in the pit of your stomach for the third time tonight. “Please,” you begged, practically trembling from overstimulation as Denki rocked you into the cool aluminum of the freezer door.
“Please what, baby?” the playfulness in his tone didn’t match the serious manner in which he kept pistoning into you, chasing his own release as your slick from previous orgasms now coated his cock and ran down his thighs. Each time he went in, he angled himself right up to meet that special spot inside you to make you see tiny specks of white dot your vision. “I- I, ah! Denki!” Fingers now grasping at his hair again, you yanked harshly as you came around his pulsing cock for the third and final time, squeezing him snugly as you desperately attempted to catch your breath. There was a tingly sensation running through your legs starting from your thighs, numbing and electric as Denki kept up his quick pace to chase his own release, groaning dirty praises into your ear that made you keen. Your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him to go deeper and finish inside of you. His hips met yours for one last time, stuttering as he pumped his sticky cum into your abused hole. You two stayed there for a moment, you letting out quiet giggles as Denki took his time in getting the air back into his lungs. He let you down steadily from the position you had been in, making sure to hold you up since the feeling was still a bit lost in your legs.
“Wow that was,” Denki paused, struggling to find the right word for the situation you two had caught yourselves in. “Satisfying,” you finished for him, to which he blushed deeply. The smile he flashed you was earnest and relieved, if he was being quite honest. “Ah, nice! Let’s get you something to eat, maybe a cheese string. But definitely water!”
“I’m actually feeling pretty full right now in terms of cheese. Thanks for that, Den.”
“Wait really?” Denki questioned as he swept his boxers along with his shirt off the kitchen floor, his concern showing through his furrowed brow, “Not even for a cheese string?”
A deadpan look crossed your face, sighing as you gave in to your dumbass of a roommate. “One cheese string.”
“Bet!”
Needless to say, post sex activities consisted of a hot shower, the second Shrek movie, and two cheese strings (per Denki’s request). Not a bad way to relieve your stress, you concluded to yourself happily as you snuggled closer to your roommate, fingers intertwined beneath the blanket as you allowed yourself to slip into a comfortable slumber against Denki’s shoulder.
all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.
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Content 2/2 - F.W (M)
Empty Chapter II
IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.
CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE
Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.
Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader
Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out
Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff
Rating: 18+
DON’T REPOST MY WORK
tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3
Five Years Later, 2003
"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.
"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."
Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"
"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."
"I don't think her name is Stacey though."
You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.
"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."
Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.
Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.
You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.
Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.
The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.
Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.
You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."
Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."
Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.
"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."
You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.
After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.
The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.
You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.
After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.
"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."
She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.
You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"
Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."
"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.
Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.
You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.
Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.
People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.
Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.
Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.
Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.
"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"
"Fleur! What are you doing here?"
With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.
"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.
You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.
Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.
"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."
"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.
The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.
Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"
"Auntie ____!"
A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-
"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."
The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.
Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.
“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.
You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.
Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”
Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.
“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.
Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”
A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.
“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”
Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”
Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”
Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.
It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.
And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.
“____?”
And then, you’re suffocating.
He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.
His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.
His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.
His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.
He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.
His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.
You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.
He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.
Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.
“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”
You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.
Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.
You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.
You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.
“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.
“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.
You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”
He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”
“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?
It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.
“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”
George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“
“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”
His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”
Someone clears their throat.
It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.
“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.
Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!
And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.
You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.
He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.
It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.
The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.
“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.
Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.
He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”
You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.
“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.
Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.
“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.
You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues
Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”
“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.
Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”
“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”
Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.
Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”
Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”
“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”
Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.
Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.
Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.
Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)
Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.
He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.
You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.
He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.
You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight. This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.
“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”
Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.
“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.
“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.
You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.
You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”
And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.
“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.
“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.
Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.
Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.
Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.
“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.
You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”
“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.
You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.
“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“
“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.
“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”
“Wha-“
George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”
“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.
Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”
Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.
“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”
Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”
Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.
“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.
Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.
It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.
Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.
It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.
And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.
Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.
How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?
Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.
————————
When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.
Jambo’s no different.
So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.
You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.
Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?
It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.
Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.
And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.
What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?
Absolute blasphemy.
Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.
Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.
Of course your logic sucks.
Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.
Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.
Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.
A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.
You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-
Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.
“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”
You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.
“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.
Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.
“Morning, I know it’s early and-”
“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”
Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.
You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.
But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?
The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.
He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-
Woah, down girl.
Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.
“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.
“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”
It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.
The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.
“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”
You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”
You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”
Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”
You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.
“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.
“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”
The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.
He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.
“Alright.” he says softly.
His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.
How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.
“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.
The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.
“Eva!”
Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”
You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”
Fred winces. “Actually-”
“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”
“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”
You freeze. “What?”
They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”
Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”
You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.
Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.
It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.
Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.
But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.
It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.
They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.
Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.
“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”
Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”
He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”
You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”
Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.
He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.
Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”
“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”
“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”
Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”
Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”
“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”
Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”
Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”
Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”
You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”
The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.
He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”
That turns the after taste into pure panic.
How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.
“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.
Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.
——————
You look good.
Or, at least you think you do.
Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.
Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.
“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”
Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”
As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.
Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”
Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”
Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.
You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.
“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.
You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.
Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.
“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”
Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.
“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”
Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.
You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”
The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.
For a moment, you forget where you’re going.
Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.
Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.
Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.
You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.
The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.
You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.
Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.
You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.
“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.
“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.
“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”
You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”
George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”
When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.
The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.
Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support
“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.
Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.
You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.
“____!”
Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.
“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”
Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”
“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”
You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.
“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”
Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”
Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.
“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.
Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.
“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.
“I think you know why,” says Harry.
“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.
You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’
You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.
Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.
Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?
He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.
It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.
You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.
You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.
“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.
“Merry Christmas yourself.” he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.
His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.
“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.
“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”
Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”
You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.
“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.
Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.
Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”
You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”
“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”
“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.
Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”
When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.
“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”
Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.
Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”
Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”
It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.
“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”
A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.
“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.
You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”
“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”
You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”
You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.
“What I meant to say was, I wan-“
“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”
When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.
The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.
She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.
But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.
Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.
“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.
You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.
Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.
Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.
“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”
Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”
She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.
“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.
Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”
Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.
You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.
Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.
“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”
He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”
“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.
He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”
“Well what changed your mind?”
Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”
“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.
It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.
Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.
The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.
“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.
Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.
You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.
“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.
Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”
You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”
“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”
“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.
Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”
Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”
Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”
Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.
Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.
Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”
“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?
Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”
“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.
“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”
You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.
“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”
Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.
“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “
You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.
“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.
You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.
Eva stutters, “What?”
“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”
“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.
“No, he won’t.”
When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”
She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.
“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”
“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.
“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”
By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.
Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.
Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”
You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.
“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.
“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”
Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.
A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”
“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”
You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”
Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.
“Yeah, you!” you cry.
Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.
“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”
——————
Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.
If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?
Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.
You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.
“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”
“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”
Fred’s expression softens. “What?”
You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”
Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.
“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.
“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”
Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”
Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”
You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”
You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”
Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”
“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.
“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”
You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.
“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”
Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”
His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”
“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”
Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.
“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.
“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”
“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”
Fred freezes - second time that night.
Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.
Fuck fuck fuck.
You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.
But it was too late.
Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.
“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.
“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”
You almost swallow your tongue.
Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.
Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.
He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.
“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.
“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”
“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.
“That’s Freddie for you, love.”
Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.
“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.
You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.
“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”
“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”
“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”
“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”
“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”
The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.
“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you come back?”
Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”
“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.
“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”
That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.
Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”
“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”
You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.
But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.
Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.
Fuck.
It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.
“Finally!” George yells.
Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”
Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.
If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.
Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,
The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.
Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.
Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.
“____.”
You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.
“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.
You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”
“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.
“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.
“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.
You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”
“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”
“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”
George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.
“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”
“Took you long enough.”
He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”
“I won’t.”
Your lie slips so easily.
It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?
You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.
You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?
“____.”
Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.
“____, darling.”
Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.
“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”
Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”
You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.
Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.
“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.
Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.
“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”
There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.
Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“
“Yes it does, and stupid!”
“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”
Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”
“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”
“That doesn’t explain the rest-“
“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.
“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“
“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.
I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.
“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”
Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.
Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.
“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”
This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.
————
It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.
Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.
Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.
Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.
Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.
Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.
Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.
And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.
“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.
“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”
Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”
“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“
“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”
You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.
Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-
Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.
You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.
The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.
Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.
Knock Knock
Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”
You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“
By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.
“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.
He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.
“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”
You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.
“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”
“Thank you.”
Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.
As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;
“Fred I-“
“I wanted to-“
Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”
Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?
“Fred,-“
“No, let me finish this time.”
You stay silent.
“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”
“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.
“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”
“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.
“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”
You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”
Fred raises a brow.
“Sorry, continue.”
“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“
You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”
“I did.” you smile.
“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”
“Near what?” You gasp.
Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.
“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”
“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”
Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”
“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.
But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.
“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”
Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.
“I was thinking of you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”
Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”
“Oh.”
You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”
“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.
“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.
He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”
“Do what?”
Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.
He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.
“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”
He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”
You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”
You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.
True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.
“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”
If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.
“Fred, don-“
Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.
“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”
You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.
“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.
He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.
His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.
Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.
Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”
You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”
Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.
He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.
“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.
“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”
You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”
Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.
His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.
He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.
“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”
“Then - ahh Freddie!”
“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”
He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”
You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.
“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.
Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”
His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.
That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.
He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.
“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”
“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.
But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.
Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.
“Really?”
“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”
Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”
“Wha- which one?”
“The white one.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh.”
“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”
You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”
Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”
You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.
“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.
Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.
Of course he has abs.
You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into
You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.
“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”
When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.
His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.
Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”
You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”
“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.
Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”
You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”
“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.
“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”
Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”
You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.
Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”
Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.
You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”
“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.
“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”
It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”
The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.
Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”
“I love you too - oh!”
Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”
“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”
His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.
lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.
“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.
“Fred! Oh god - ah!”
Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”
The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”
He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”
It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.
“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”
Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.
“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”
His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.
You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.
Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
“Well shit.”
“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.
Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.
“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”
You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”
Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”
“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”
“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”
You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”
Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.
You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”
After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.
The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.
“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.
He hums in response.
“You’re staying over, right?”
Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.
You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”
“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”
#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley angst#fred weasley smut#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x reader#harry potter fic#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley#fred wealsey fic#hp smut#fluff#angst#hp angst#reader insert#george weasley#ginny weasley#hermione granger#harry potter
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We’ll Be Okay (Steve Rogers x Reader)
WARNINGS: ANGST, IMPLIED DEATH OF BOTH CHARACTERS, NO INJURIES ARE DESCRIBED BUT ITS PRETTY EASY TO FIGURE OUT
She’s always loved holding Steve’s hands. They are always so warm and just the brush of his hand against hers can calm her racing heart. So as she lies with him now, side by side, she reaches for him. Locking her fingers with his and giving them a squeeze.
Steve smiles. Having you near him makes all of his bad days better and all of his good days great. God, even just seeing you smile at him from across the room fills his heart with so much love that he’s shocked it hasn’t burst yet.
“What do you wanna do this weekend?” Her voice is light and breathy, and Steve thinks it’s beautiful.
Steve pauses a moment to think, “How about the museum? We haven’t been in ages. We can even go to that cafe across the street too.”
That was where they had their first date. Slowly wandering around the museum, not caring too much about the exhibits but absolutely adoring each other. Later, they curled up in a booth together sipping warm drinks and talking about their dreams until the sun set. The colors slowly lulled the both of you into a happy, comfortable silence.
“Yeah,” She hums her agreement, “That sounds great. I heard there’s a new exhibit. Some art stuff. Right up your alley.”
She takes a deep, heaving breath and when she lets it out she tries to cough but ends up making some sort of sick gurgling sound. Steve squeezes her hand, trying to let her know that he is still right there. Still with her. When her body finally settles, her grip on Steve’s hand is just a little weaker.
“Steve,” She begins, voice weak, “I’m so scared.”
He smiles at the ceiling. Neither of you have looked at each other this whole time. And you’re not planning on it.
“Remember when we were apartment hunting? And we found that beautiful old place?” He sighs, “It was so perfect. I dreamed that night that it was going to be our home.”
She nods and gives a sad smile, “It was perfect. Even had that extra bedroom. And the view Stevie,” Her chest heaves for a second, “The view was perfect. The sun setting. I could watch that every day and never get sick of it.”
Even now, laying together in the dingy room, the sunset is there. It washes the walls with deep oranges and soft pinks. And it’s just so cinematic that she knows that if this was a movie, Steve would just go on and on about color theory and symbolism. How the sun setting always shows the main characters that something is ending. And she’d love it, hang on every word as he rambles. But this isn’t a movie.
Steve’s grip is slowly loosening from her hand. He’s trying so hard to stay connected to her, but he’s just so tired now. She’s trying to cough again but this time, her breaths are shallow. Far too shallow. Steve is trying not to panic. There’s no reason to. There’s nothing either of you can do about this anyways.
“I hope you know how much I love you.” His voice is so quiet you almost miss it. “God, we should’ve had the wedding as soon as you said yes. There’s nothing I wanted more than to see you in a wedding dress.”
She can’t catch her breath very well anymore but she tries so hard to say “I love you too Steve.”
His vision is swimming now, bright shapes and colors blur the ceiling before that black edge he was so afraid of begins to close in. He’s holding your hand as tight as he can, praying that she knows that he’s with her until the end.
Steve squeezes his eyes closed tight, not wanting to watch the world fade around him. “I think we’re going to be okay.”
It’s not going to be okay. They’re dying. But they’re dying together. That’s a privilege that so many would kill for. To have some company. Whether a friend, a fiancé, hell even a stranger. Both of them are so, so scared, but the weight of each other’s hand is grounding. Dying isn’t comfortable. But my god, they’re trying their best to make it that way.
“Yeah,” Her voice is barely a mumble as her eyes finally close, “Yeah we are.”
#steve rogers x reader fluff#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x reader#captain america#marvel angst#marvel fanfiction#angst#chris evans#steve rogers x reader angst#mcu imagine#mcu
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Afternoon Naps (myg + pjm)
AO3 Link Here!
Relationships: Jimin x Yoongi
Genre: smut
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: ~5.5k
Tags: Smut, Consensual Somnophilia, Vampires, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Vampire Sex, Vampire Biting/Blood Drinking, Sleeping Medication, Consensual Necrophilia (Technically), Temporary Character Death, Vampire Min Yoongi, Human Park Jimin, Bottom Park Jimin
Summary: Jimin finds out his boyfriend's biggest secret, and reveals his own biggest kink. They realize that this can benefit both of them.
A/N: Fifth Kinktober fic, day 7: somnophlia; this fic is also filling a request from ages ago. @sujigguk requested a fic with “you’re not human”
A/N 2: The fic contains technically necrophilia -- vampire lore in this fic has the vampire "dying" (i.e. heart/breathing stops, body goes cold, rigor mortis sets in) while resting in their coffins. All sexual acts are discussed and consented to by both parties prior to this.
“Jimin!” Yoongi’s voice was sharp… And not all that happy when he opened the door of his apartment. Jimin smiled sheepishly.
“Surprise?” He said softly.
“What are you doing here?”
Yoongi looked tense as he stood in the doorway. From what Jimin could see over his shoulder, his blinds were drawn, and his apartment was still mostly dark. Strange, given it was nearly ten in the morning.
“Did I wake you?”
Yoongi hesitated. “No.”
Jimin’s smile faded a little. “I wanted to come by… It’s been a week.”
“We’ve been texting.”
Jimin’s smile disappeared completely. “I disturbed you. I’m sorry.” He backed up, ready to head down the hall.
“Wait, no, Jimin. Don’t go. You just surprised me, I’m not used to visitors coming by unexpectedly.”
Jimin looked at him, trying to gauge if he was being sincere. Jimin and Yoongi had been dating for nearly six months. It was great. Yoongi was always there for him, their dates were fun, and they never ran out of things to talk about. The sex was mind blowing. Sure, they fought a little, but never a big thing. The one oddity in all their time together… Was that Jimin was never invited to sleep over at Yoongi’s. Yoongi had stayed at Jimin’s a few times, and Jimin had come over once or twice, but never for more than a few minutes.
The last time they were together in person, Jimin had hinted at wanting to stay over at Yoongi’s one night. Yoongi had seemed okay with the idea, but also a bit stiff about it.
“I should have texted,” Jimin finally said.
“Yes,” Yoongi agreed. “But… You’re here, I can spare a few minutes.” He sighed heavily and stepped aside, letting Jimin in.
“Dark,” Jimin commented as he entered. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” He reached out for Yoongi’s head, only to have Yoongi jerk away.
“I’m fine.”
Jimin scowled then, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with you?”
Yoongi blinked at him.
“You’re acting weird. I’ve been with you half a year, I know when you’re not yourself. What’s wrong?”
“It…” Yoongi’s shoulders sagged. “It’s very hard to explain.”
“Well try. I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. Literally or figuratively.” Jimin went to flip on a light.
Yoongi grabbed his wrist. His hand was frigid, and his grip was tight. Jimin gasped.
“Don’t.” Yoongi’s voice was sharp.
“Wh… What’s going on? You’re kinda starting to scare me.”
“I don’t mean to.” Yoongi let go of Jimin’s wrist.
“Why are you so cold?” Jimin went forward. Yoongi backed away but Jimin ignored him, grabbing his face. “Jesus, you’re freezing. Are you sick?”
“Not exactly,” Yoongi mumbled.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
“Jimin, please…” Yoongi leaned into his touch, his eyes screwed shut. “Please just go home… I promise, I’ll explain everything tonight.”
“No. You can explain right now, Min Yoongi.” Jimin crossed his arms and stood in front of the door, facing Yoongi.
“It’s not easy,” Yoongi muttered. Jimin remained silent. He sighed. “Fine. I… I really wanted us to last.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes, not liking how this was sounding. Yoongi stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“I’m a monster.”
“What makes you a monster?” Jimin pressed.
“Fangs? Death? Drinking blood?” Yoongi shrugged. “Any number of things. I mean a literal monster.”
Jimin laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, don’t be silly. Yoongi, what is it really?” He asked. He flicked on the light. Yoongi winced visibly, raising his hand to shield from the indoor light.
Jimin’s entire body went cold. Yoongi was standing in front of him. His Yoongi – lean muscle and a sweet, round face, gentle eyes and guitar callused fingers… But not his Yoongi at the same time. The person in front of him was paler than Yoongi – his face almost grey it was so pale. His eyes were dark. Not just dark, but the pupils seemed to have expanded, filling the whites of his eyes and giving him a demonic gaze.
Yoongi let his hand fall, his expression timid despite the horror his features implied.
“You’re not human,” Jimin whispered.
“I’m a monster,” Yoongi agreed. “A vampire… Specifically.” He looked down. “Are you going to run away screaming now?”
“Make me, you troll,” Jimin grumbled. He let his arms fall and took a cautious step forward.
“I’m a vampire, not a troll.”
Jimin grinned at that, seeing the curve of a smile on Yoongi’s lips. “I’ll get it right eventually… Am I in danger? Standing here like this?”
“No. I have excellent control over my feeding… Why aren’t you scared?” Yoongi looked up, meeting Jimin’s gaze.
“I am.”
“You aren’t showing it… Aside from a fast heartbeat… I can’t see any fear on your pretty face. And your heart beats fast around me all the time.”
Jimin smiled. “Flirting isn’t gonna get you out of the doghouse… Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You’re right.” Yoongi snapped his fingers. “I always forget. When is the right date to tell your new boyfriend you died and came back as a bloodsucking creature of the night? That once a week you have to spend a day in a coffin literally dead or you get wildly sick? Isn’t it the third? Or no, the seventh?”
Jimin slapped Yoongi’s shoulder with some force, smirking when he cried out, rubbing it. “Weak for a vampire.”
“I’m immortal, not immune to my boyfriend’s abuse,” Yoongi grumbled.
“Do you drink blood?”
“Of course I do.”
“Human?”
“When I can.”
“From live people?”
“Is that jealousy I hear in your tone, Mr. Park?”
Jimin glared. “You lied to me for six months, I’m allowed to interrogate you.”
Yoongi smiled softly. “I’m frankly just… In amazement that you’re still standing here. And no… Not live humans, not for a very long time. You may proceed with the interrogation – but I insist on us moving out of my hallway and to an actual sitting location.” He pointed to the couch.
“Do you have anything to drink? If I open your fridge… Will I find bags of blood?”
Yoongi made a noise of offense and crossed his arms. “Of course not, I’m not some barbarian. You’ll find a recyclable bottle of that’s filled with blood. But my sodas are in the door.”
Jimin went over to the fridge and opened it. Sure enough, there were three large water bottles filled with a very suspicious reddish liquid. He grabbed a soda from the door and went over to the couch, sitting next to Yoongi.
“How old are you? I’m guessing that twenty-seven was a lie.”
“I was twenty-seven when I died. Thirty-one years ago.”
“Oooh, I bagged myself a silver fox, huh?”
Yoongi huffed once more. “I died at twenty-seven.”
“Mhm… And now you’re fifty-eight.”
“Jimin, I’m gonna…”
Jimin giggled. “I guess I shouldn’t tease you… You might bite me… Would you?”
“Bite you? Not unless you asked.”
“Would it turn me into a vampire?”
“No. There’s a very specific ritual for that.”
Jimin nodded. “Cool. So, what does a vampire do? Aside from drinking blood… What’s special about you? I’ve seen you in the day. You complain a whole lot, but you don’t sparkle or ignite like a firework. We’ve taken plenty of pictures together… And you eat way too much garlic. You also sleep at night, and probably too long… And you aren’t any stronger than I am.”
“You’re making me feel real great here, Jimin,” Yoongi joked, smiling as he spoke.
Jimin laughed. “Sorry—I just mean… You seem human. I’ve never… Really assumed anything was off about you.”
“The great thing about humans, is that you all really like to assume everyone is like you. You avoid the things that support the opposite. Inhuman behavior, to some degree, so long as it’s not shocking or jarring, you can brush off as an odd quirk, a funny trait. I’m close to human, yes, but I am not human. I complain in the sun because my skin is sensitive. Bursting into flames is a myth, but I do burn far easier than most humans. My skin’s melanin has decayed over the years without cellular growth.”
“Which is why you’re so pale too.”
Yoongi grunted an affirmative. “Garlic is a myth, as is the no reflection thing. I’m sure hundreds of years ago, maybe? There might have been some truth to it, but modern technology and modern mirrors work different, so I can see myself the same as you. I am stronger than you, but I do well at hiding it most of the time. Any displays of it, you either don’t see, or brush aside. I do also sleep at night, yes – because I’ve put myself on a human schedule. I do this so I can live among you all without problems. Once a week though, I must sleep during the day. Sleeping at night is akin to a human living on a series of short naps at mid-afternoon. It’s not fully restful and it’s dangerous to do long term. I compensate by sleeping through the day one day per week, in the appropriate resting place.”
“R… Resting place?”
“My coffin.”
Jimin’s eyes bulged. “Coffin?”
“Yes, I am dead. I have a coffin.”
“That you sleep in?”
“Once a week. Otherwise, I sleep in the bed.”
Jimin nodded, his brows furrowed.
“Gonna run yet?” Yoongi asked.
“No… Is there anything else different?”
“Well… We’re excellent in bed,” Yoongi joked. Jimin glanced up. “I mean it. We have a… Special thing about us. You’ve had sex with other men before me, right?”
“Yeah, a few.”
“Haven’t you ever noticed that when we have sex… I’m much—”
“Harder.”
Yoongi nodded.
Jimin pouted. “I assumed it was because I just really turned you on. It’s because you’re a vampire?”
“Well, no, you really do turn me on... A lot. But a few days after I do my daytime sleep, I get naturally more rigid. I’m not sure why – I think it has something do with… Ah, well it’s gross. But it just happens.”
Jimin sat back, sighing softly. “You’re immortal.”
“Yes.”
“Honestly… I think that’s the thing that bothers me most about this. Not that you’re undead or drink blood or… But that you’re gonna never grow old. And I’m…”
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered.
“If we work out…” Jimin began. “And stay together… You’ll turn me, right? You’d have to – for us to… Be together.”
“Not necessarily. While I wouldn’t hate the idea of someone’s company in my life… I know that a limited existence is so valued and important. It’s something that I would be willing to discuss… If we work out, and when you are older.”
Jimin nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Yoongi pressed. “That’s it?”
Jimin shrugged. “We all have secrets, Yoongi.”
“I doubt you have a secret as big as this, Jimin.”
“No… But I have one that… People have left for.”
Yoongi seemed to perk up a little at that, his brows furrowed. Despite the difference in his eyes, the sleek black, Jimin found his expression endearing and sweet.
“I like your eyes like this… Can you change them at will?” He asked.
“No. They’re like this because I’ve not fed for a while. I have to keep myself fed and rested or they shift; they’ll be back to normal after I wake up and drink… What secret could you have that’s so big, Jimin?”
“Well… I…” Jimin winced. “God, it’s weird as hell, I’m so sorry.”
“I won’t run,” Yoongi promised. “You’re sitting here next to me after finding out I’m a living dead monster. The least I can do is listen to your secret and try to understand.”
Jimin smiled softly at that. He nodded. “I like… Sleep sex.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like I like the idea of… Having sex with someone while they sleep or are unconscious. With their consent! I mean… I’d never… Do something nonconsensual.”
Yoongi remained silent a moment, thinking. “Do you want someone to have sex with you while you sleep? Or do you want to have sex with someone while they sleep?”
“Both, I guess. I like the idea of both. I’ve never done it. Most people stop talking to me after I tell them.”
“Why would they?” Yoongi pressed. “We all have kinks and fantasies.”
“Yeah, but a lot of them see it as a form of rape. And I get it, it’s a super grey area. You can’t change your mind while you’re asleep, so like… If you say it’s okay, and then as you drift off to sleep decide you don’t want it… Then it becomes nonconsent.”
Yoongi nodded in understanding. “Well I think that can be resolved just by open communication,” he said, touching his hand to his chin in thought. “If you trust your partner and they trust you, you two should be able to communicate what is and isn’t okay. I don’t think a kink like this is unsafe or unhealthy, as long as – like you said – it’s done with full consent.”
Jimin smiled cautiously, his heart skipping a beat. “You mean… You don’t find it gross?”
“Not at all.” Yoongi smiled. “I’m glad you shared it with me. I still don’t think it’s worse than me being a blood sucking monster… But I know it’s a secret you hold close, so I appreciate your trust. But… Would you want to try this with me someday?”
“Would I ever?” Jimin asked. He chuckled a little. “I fantasize about it a lot.”
Yoongi smirked. He moved little closer, pulling Jimin to him. “Would you want to try it today?” He asked softly.
Jimin’s eyes widened. Yoongi continued. “Look… When I sleep… In my coffin. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I am… For all intents and purposes… Dead. I don’t decay, obviously. But my body goes very cold, my lungs and heart go still… And my body stiffens, as a corpse would. That includes… My dick.”
Jimin remained quiet, processing what Yoongi was suggesting. Yoongi slid his hands over Jimin’s shoulders slowly as he spoke.
“So, if someone… Say my very curious, very human boyfriend… Happened to get horny while I was sleeping in my coffin… He could climb in and use my body… Ride me… And I’d remain fully unconscious no matter what.”
“Because you’re dead…” Jimin clarified.
Yoongi nodded. “Temporarily. I wouldn’t wake for anything, unless you shined sunlight on my body. So… If you want to do this…”
“Would you fuck me when you wake?” Jimin said quickly. “If I was sleeping, would you… Return the favor?”
“I wake in the late afternoon usually. You’d likely still be up.”
“Not if I took a sleeping pill,” Jimin suggested. “I have some, I used to get nightmares and they help. I don’t use them often, but I bring them just in case. I could take one after… And you could… Help get rid of your afternoon wood with my body.”
Yoongi shifted visibly on the couch. His tongue darted out, swiping over his lips. Jimin smirked. He leaned forward, sliding his hands up Yoongi’s thighs. “Does that idea sound good? You like it.”
Yoongi nodded. “I do,” he breathed.
“We can do it today?”
“Yes but… Jimin… You understand what I mean. When I lay in my coffin… You will be looking at the equivalent of a corpse.”
“I understand. But you’re still you. You say you’ll only be still and cold… You won’t be decaying or rotting or anything you associate with a dead body. And you’ll be waking up and… We’ll be together.”
“Of course.”
“Would it turn you on? Knowing I used you while you… Rested?”
Yoongi smiled softly, lowering his gaze. “Frankly? That’s… An incredibly sexy thought. The thought of you climbing into my coffin with me alone is enough to… Well… I’ve thought of it more than once. I never even imagined you’d be willing to… Let alone wanting to… Do more.”
“Should I stay in the coffin with you? After I finish?”
“I’m afraid not.” Yoongi shook his head. “Waking from my rest is a very jarring thing. I fear I might accidentally hurt you. I have a bed in my room next to the coffin, you can sleep there.”
Jimin nodded. “I do want this as long as you do. And I do want you to… Do the same.”
Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin gently.
“Hey… You’re a vampire… Don’t you have fangs?”
“They retract. When I’m resting they will come out, so don’t kiss me – you could get poked. But when I’m awake I can pull them in and out as needed.”
“Can I see them?” Jimin whispered.
Yoongi seemed to be thinking about it. He grinned then. His wide, gummy grin suddenly became something much more frightening… And sexier, when Jimin realized his canines had lengthened and transformed into sharp, deadly points. Jimin’s breath left in a rush.
“Oh wow…”
Yoongi’s smile dropped again to a relaxed expression. “Satisfied?” He asked, his tone slightly breathier with the fangs in the way.
Jimin nodded. “I think you need to go to bed soon,” he murmured.
Yoongi smirked, one fang peeking out of his lip. “Horny bastard.”
“Not my fault.” Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s thighs. “Should I wait out here?”
“Please. Though it’s not disturbing I do like going to sleep alone. You’re free to come in in about fifteen minutes… I’ll be resting by then. The lube is in the top drawer of the dresser in the bedroom.
“See you in the evening,” Jimin said. Yoongi rose and leaned forward, pecking Jimin’s mouth gently.
Fifteen minutes had never been so damn slow. Jimin finished his drink and paced around the apartment, trying to distract from the ticking clock. He took the time to explore Yoongi’s place; he’d never had a chance to before. He had quite a number of interesting trinkets that Jimin wanted to ask about when he woke up. He pulled off his coat and tugged on one of Yoongi’s hoodies, hugging himself in it as Yoongi’s scent drifted into his nostrils from the warm fabric.
Finally. Fifteen minutes had passed. Jimin entered the bedroom carefully, letting his eyes adjust to the room, even darker than the living room. He found a lamp near a comfy looking bed and flicked it on, looking around. The light was soft, diffused by the heavy shade. In the center of the room was a large, dark coffin. Jimin approached it carefully, his heart in his throat. Inside was Yoongi, looking much paler than usual. He was entirely still, arms resting across his bare belly. He was in his boxers, his cock comically rigid, tenting the front up obscenely. He was stunning.
Jimin hurried over to the dresser and opened the drawer, finding the lube easily. He shucked his jeans and boxers, crawling onto the bed. He set his sleeping medication on the bedside stand and relaxed into the pillow. It smelled richly of Yoongi’s scent, his cock thickening against his thigh. He moaned softly, stroking himself. He looked over at the coffin, his stomach clenching. This was really happening. He poured some of the lube on his fingers and spread it over his hole, sighing contentedly as he pushed a finger in to prep himself.
When he was ready, Jimin rose, sliding the lube and his phone into his pocket. He went over to the coffin, taking a moment to gaze down at his beautiful lover. A vampire… He knew he’d likely have a moment of realization down the line – the understanding that this simple confession had flipped his life upside down. But he’d never been one to shy away from the macabre or bizarre, and he always wondered if supernatural creatures existed. Yoongi’s confirmation of that was… Unexpected, but not unwanted.
Jimin carefully straddled Yoongi’s lap. He knew he couldn’t wake him, but the fear was half the fun. Yoongi was still hard, his position entirely unchanged from the first moment Jimin saw him. Jimin pulled his boxers down just under his balls, smirking when he saw the tip was a deep purple red. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked gently, surprised to find it cool to the touch. Yoongi really was a living dead person.
A surprising twinge of arousal spiked through Jimin, making him shudder. He wondered if Yoongi could still come in this state. Only one way to find out.
He shifted over, taking the lube from his hoodie with shaking hands and adding some to Yoongi’s cock, and more to his own stretched hole. He moved over and began to settle into Yoongi’s cock, muffling his quiet gasps in his other hand. Yoongi’s cock was so hard it was almost painful. There was none of the give he was used to, forcing his ass open wide to take the tip, and sliding deep into him. He whimpered, shuddering hard when he took his entire length.
“Yoongi,” he whined softly. Curious, he reached out, touching Yoongi’s pale, cool face. He held his hand by his nose for a moment. Nothing. No movement of air, no shift, nothing. He moaned again, reality slowly sinking in. There was nothing normal or right about this. But God, it felt good. He dropped his hand down, pulling Yoongi’s top lip back. As promised, there they were, sharp fangs, glinting dangerously. Jimin touched one, ever so tempted to prick his finger on it, let Yoongi taste him… But no. Jimin pulled his hand back. That could be discussed at a later time. He settled back on Yoongi’s stiff cock and whimpered. There was no give. He was gonna lose it fast at this rate.
Jimin began to ride him, moaning openly as Yoongi’s cock slid over his prostate. He reached into his hoodie and removed his phone, holding it up. He found his camera app and angled it to show his face first, his cheeks mottled red with arousal. He moaned openly as he pressed record, not bothering to shy away from looking and sounding obscene.
“Your cock is so hard, Yoongi. You’re gonna break my ass in half, oh!” He shuddered, biting his lip and twisting his hips down. “Fuck, I’ve never had something this hard up my asshole, Yoongi… I’m gonna gape for hours after I’m done with you.”
He whined, his throat clicking as he struggled to swallow. He turned the camera, filming Yoongi’s body before turning it and balancing it behind him, so he could film himself riding Yoongi. He glanced back, smirking when he realized the camera was catching each long stroke, Yoongi’s cock sinking back into his ass. He spread himself and leaned forward, giving more light for the camera. He fucked himself hard and fast onto Yoongi’s cock, moaning and begging for more, not hiding the pleasure he was getting. He reached back and grabbed the phone, holding it up again.
“I’m gonna come, Yoongi,” he whined. “I’m gonna come from using your thick, hard cock, right here in your coffin. Wanna see?”
He turned the camera and lifted the front of the hoodie. His cock was bouncing with each thrust of his body, slapping gently off Yoongi’s still stomach.
“I’m so glad you slept shirtless,” Jimin panted. “Make me come, Yoongi… Oh God, please… Fuck my ass harder…” He moved faster, whining high in his throat. It shifted to a shout when his cock began to spurt, shooting ropes of come over Yoongi’s hands and belly. He stroked himself, still riding Yoongi’s cock as he milked the last come from himself. He shuddered and giggled, moving the camera behind him as he pulled off Yoongi. He held his ass open, feeling the cool air tickle him far more intimately than it should.
“Look at that gape,” he mumbled. “Too bad it’s not dripping with your come.” He pulled the camera back as he crawled out of the coffin.
“I think I’m gonna leave you like this… Covered in my come, boxers down… Just so you wake up and know what I did to you.”
He walked back over to the bed in the corner. “Now, Yoongi… I’m gonna leave the lube right there.” He angled the camera to show himself setting it on the nightstand and picking up the sleeping pill. “And I’m gonna take my sleeping medicine.” He angled the camera back to his face to show him swallowing it.
“Now I’m going to sleep just like this… No shorts… And I would love it, if you want to… To repay the favor and use my ass while I sleep.” He smirked. “I wonder… Is your come as cold your body was when you first come back? You should let me know… I wonder how that feels inside me…” He shook his head. “Sleep well… See you soon.” He ended the video and sent it to Yoongi, forcing himself to stay awake long enough to hear the buzz of Yoongi’s phone in his coffin. He let himself drift off to sleep, dreams full of sexy, arousing thoughts.
Jimin’s ass was on fire. He moaned softly, opening his eyes blearily. The first thing he saw was the coffin. He turned his head, spotting the clock… Nearly seven hours since he’d gone to sleep.
“Morning Sunshine,” Yoongi murmured. Jimin turned, spotting him at his desk. A cup of deep red liquid sat next to him as he worked on something. “How’s your ass?”
“Sore,” Jimin mumbled, reaching back. He was met with a gush of body temperature fluids, pouring from his gaped hole. He whined. “Fuck…” His cock throbbed against the mattress. “What did you do?”
“Me? I simply did as you asked in your video… Very sexy, by the way. Would you like to watch?”
Jimin rolled over, groaning weakly. His cock was hard despite the pain in his ass. It was perfect. “Show me,” he whispered.
Yoongi rose and grabbed his phone. He went over to the bed and sat on it with Jimin, passing him the device.
Yoongi did far less teasing and talking in his video. He set up the phone at an angle on the nightstand, allowing it to capture most of Jimin’s sleeping body. Yoongi slicked his cock, looking into the camera as he sank into Jimin with a moan. He began to thrust into him quickly, holding Jimin’s ass open as he did. He maintained looking at the camera most of the time, his eyes the same black they were when he went to sleep.
As Jimin watched himself get used on the phone, Yoongi pulled him onto his lap. He’d withdrawn his cock, Jimin could feel. He hissed and whined softly when Yoongi dragged him over and slid back into his come lubed hole.
“It’s sore,” he whined.
“You can get off then, I don’t mind,” Yoongi said, letting his hips go. Jimin smirked. He shifted to get a better angle to watch the video and began to bounce lazily on Yoongi’s cock.
On the video, Yoongi had picked up speed, grunting as he fucked Jimin’s sleeping body. He tossed his head back, shouting and baring his teeth.
Jimin moaned, catching sight of Yoongi’s fangs. He touched his own neck, a little disappointed at the lack of bite marks. Yoongi on video shuddered, his hips going still. He leaned forward, kissing Jimin’s shoulder.
“There’s my first load, Jimin. It was as cold as ice… I’ve never felt your hole squeeze me so tight. Next time I’ll do it when you’re awake… I bet you’ll squeal so pretty when it fills you…”
Jimin moaned, leaning back against Yoongi. “I wanna feel,” he confessed.
“I’ll make sure you’re awake next time,” Yoongi promised. “Wanna see the rest?”
Jimin nodded, riding Yoongi a little faster.
On video, Yoongi picked up the pace, fucking Jimin’s ass harder than before. He used him for nearly forty minutes, filling his hole three times. Finally, he sagged his shoulders, kissing over Jimin’s back.
“You’re so fucking sloppy, baby,” he grumbled. He grabbed the phone and angled it down. Jimin’s ass was red, his hole swollen around Yoongi’s cock. He pulled out slowly and come bubbled out, obscene sounds filling the air. Yoongi chuckled. “I’ll leave you like this. When you wake up I’ll give you one more, if you want it.”
The video went black. Jimin leaned forward, his ass aching at the new angle. “I want it,” he whispered.
Yoongi shifted, pulling out only long enough to get onto his knees. He sank back into Jimin’s already filled ass, and they both moaned at the sloppy noises. Jimin leaned up, wrapping his arms back around Yoongi.
“Bite me when you come,” he whispered.
“You sure?” Yoongi was fucking him hard, his cock twitching.
“Yes,” Jimin promised. He reached down, stroking his cock in time with Yoongi’s thrusts.
Yoongi was huffing erratically, holding tight to his middle. His fangs grazed Jimin’s shoulder.
“Are you mine?” Yoongi panted in his ear.
“Yes—“
“Give yourself to me.” Yoongi grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand off his cock. “All the way. Are you mine, Jimin?”
“Yes, yes!” Jimin moaned.
“I’m yours as well, Park Jimin,” Yoongi whispered. He slammed his cock deep. It began to throb, spilling inside Jimin. At the same time, Jimin felt a sharp pain and then a pressure on his shoulder. Pure pleasure washed over him. His cock began to spurt ropes of come, jerking hard enough to make them land on the floor in front of him. He shouted Yoongi’s name, reaching back and holding his neck as Yoongi drank from him.
The two collapsed on the bed as their orgasms faded. Yoongi kissed and licked at the wound on Jimin’s shoulder until the blood clotted, sliding his softening cock carefully from Jimin’s aching ass.
“You okay?” Yoongi asked, nudging Jimin’s shoulder with his nose as they cuddled back to chest on the bed.
“I’m great,” Jimin whispered.
“No regrets? Still okay with it?”
“Fully… You?”
“It was so exciting,” Yoongi admitted. “When I woke and felt your come on me… And then saw you sleeping… And that video was stunning. You were so beautiful.”
Jimin smiled shyly. “We’ll have to go easy the next few nights… I’m really sore.”
“Of course. I’ll be gentle for a while, let you heal up.” Yoongi kissed over his shoulder. “Did the bite hurt?”
“No. It felt good… How often can you drink from me?”
“I’d prefer not to often. Living human blood, not bagged, it’s… Very rich and sweet, almost like candy. It can become addictive. I’m honored you let me, but I’ll save it as a treat for myself, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course.” Jimin turned as well as he could. His gaze searched Yoongi’s face, finally dropping down to his mouth, lips pink and cheeks mottled. “It was so interesting. Seeing you in your coffin.”
“I know it can be frightening.”
“No…” Jimin shook his head. “I think it sank in… That I was looking at someone who wasn’t alive. But knowing you’d be awake soon after, it was… This bizarre sort of… Taboo but sexy thing? I’m a freak, aren’t I?” Jimin’s shoulders sagged.
“No more than I.” Yoongi nudged him again. “We can be freaks together.”
Jimin grinned. “Yoongi?” He said softly.
“Hm?”
“I feel gross.”
“Because of what we did?”
“No, silly.” Jimin laughed. “Because your come is gluing my ass and legs together. I need a shower.”
Yoongi laughed brightly, nodding. “Agreed. Let’s get one... It’s almost dinner, you’re probably starved.”
“You aren’t,” Jimin teased, rising slowly. “No, but I could eat. I’ll take you out after the shower.”
They walked together to the bathroom. “How does eating human food work with being a vampire?”
“Same as it works being alive,” Yoongi said, turning on the water. “It’s just empty calories for me – Which is why I never eat much.”
“There’s so much I feel like I have to learn about what you are… How life is for you.” Jimin crossed his arms as he waited for the water to warm. Yoongi straightened up and wrapped his arms around him. Now that Jimin was aware, he could feel that Yoongi was a few degrees cooler, his skin just a bit paler than human.
“You can ask anything you need. We have time, and I’ll tell you all you want to know.”
“Yoongi…” Jimin leaned against him, hugging him tightly. He could hear Yoongi’s heart, glugging along at a lethargic pace. He smiled softly. “Can I confess something to you?”
“Hm?” Yoongi asked, resting his chin on Jimin’s shoulder.
“I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” Jimin whispered.
Yoongi went still, his heart skipping a little faster. “Jimin… Say that again,” he said.
“I… I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Jimin could feel Yoongi’s lips curve up into a smile against his shoulder. “In nearly sixty years of existence… I have never heard more beautiful words,” Yoongi admitted. “I love you too, Jimin… I feel like I’ll love you forever.”
Jimin pulled back, meeting Yoongi’s gaze. His eyes were back to their normal soft brown. He smiled. “Coming from someone who is immortal… That’s the most beautiful thing I could hear.”
Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin deeply. He pulled him close, and Jimin melted into the touch. Yoongi may have cold skin, may drink blood and die once a week – but Jimin had never felt safer or warmer than he did at that very moment in Yoongi’s arms.
#thebtswritersclub#yoonmin#jimin x yoongi#yoongi x jimin#jimin smut#yoongi smut#jimin#yoongi#mywriting
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*✧･ﾟ:* baby explosion murder
pairing: bakugo x reader
summary: bakugo gets hit with a de-aging quirk and it’s up to you to take care of him until it wears off
a/n: this is part of my fic-swap with @a-monsters-love!! xoxo i luv u bby sm you can read her fic here! (it was amazing)
“Hey, Midoriya!” you cheerfully spoke into your phone. “What’s up?”
“Y/N? Oh, thank God--okay, something’s happened while on patrol, Kacchan got hit with this Quirk and he’s--”
“Wait, what?” you said, immediately on high alert. You got to your feet and made towards your bag and shoes. “Where? What hospital?”
“Well--they didn’t exactly send him to the hospital because he’s not hurt, he’s just…”
Your hand stilled over your bag. “He’s just what?”
“We’re on our way up to you right now. Don’t freak out, okay?”
“Uh,” you said, glancing at the front door. “Alright.”
A few minutes later someone knocked. Unsure of what you were about to see, you peeked through the peephole and saw only Midoriya standing there, looking worried. You unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Where is he--”
“Y/N-chan!”
A small child launched itself into your apartment and latched around your waist much like children do when they’re excited, throwing you completely off guard. The child buried his face into your torso, giggling maniacally.
“ Midoriya, what’s going on? Whose kid is this?” Your mouth fell open in shock. “Did you steal someone’s child?”
“No!” he protested, running his hands through his unruly hair. “Y/N--that’s Kacchan.”
There was a second of silence before you burst into laughter. After it had subsided to amused chuckles, you looked down at the child still wrapped like a vice around your waist. “That’s very funny. Now c’mon, tell me where Katsuki really is.”
Midoriya simply raised an eyebrow and pointed at the child. “He was hit with a de-aging Quirk.”
This time, there was no laughter. You pried the child off of your torso and held him at arm’s length, your eyes going wide when you recognized him from old childhood photos the Mitsuki had shown you. It was definitely him.
Katsuki made grabby motions with his hands, and you instinctively picked him up and set him on your hip. He bared his teeth and giggled again. “Die!”
“Jesus,” you sighed, gently swatting away his hands that were tugging on your hair. “Do we know how long it will last?”
Midoriya shrugged. “I don’t know. We took him to a Quirk specialist and they said it could vary from a few hours to a few days.”
You shifted Katsuki on your hip and studied his little face. “Do you think he’s aware of what’s happened?”
“It’s hard to tell. All he’s really said so far is ‘Die!’ and ‘Y/N-chan!’”
You snorted. “Sounds like Katsuki to me.”
Midoriya rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Do you need any help? I can stay until it wears off, I know how much work children are.”
“No, no,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ll be alright. You’ve got to finish your patrol, right? I’ll call you later and tell you if anything’s happened.”
“Alright.” He leaned in and studied Katsuki’s face. “So strange. He looks just like when we were kids together.”
Katsuki growled at him and made biting motions.
“Hey!” you chided. “Don’t be rude, Katsuki. He’s trying to help you.”
Katsuki grumbled and hid his face in your neck in shame. You rolled your eyes and gave Midoriya an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Seems like he hasn’t changed much.”
“It’s alright,” he chuckled, taking a step back. “I’ll leave you to it. Call me if anything happens!”
You closed the door and locked it. Katsuki whined and struggled in your arms until you took him into the kitchen and set him in one of the chairs. He playfully slapped his hands on the table and bounced in his seat, looking at you with those familiar, crimson eyes.
You took the seat next to him, unsure of what to do next. “Are you hungry?” you asked him.
“Guhhh!” was all his reply.
“Food?”
Katsuki stuck his fingers in his mouth and giggled.
You sighed and got up from the table to make him something to eat. Maybe if you made his favorite food, it would make him change back faster...or...something....
As you moved around the kitchen preparing some spicy curry for him, you forgot he was a child and that children love getting into trouble, especially one like Katsuki. A few minutes had gone by and you no longer heard his toddler-babble at the table. You glanced over your shoulder and nearly dropped the bowl of rice in your hands.
“Katsuki, no!” you cried, running over to where he had his pudgy little fingers inches from the hot stove. You whisked him away and returned him to his seat at the table. “Don’t touch that, you’ll hurt yourself.”
He sniffed, burying his face in his arms. You gently pulled his hands away so you could look at him in the eye.
“Stay here,” you told him, tapping the table. “Don’t move.”
He pouted, but remained seated.
Satisfied, you turned your back and finished making his meal. You ladled the spicy curry over the rice and returned to the table, where he was getting antsier and antsier by the second. He whined and grabbed for the bowl.
“Nuh-uh,” you chastised, holding it away as you sat beside him. “It’s hot. We have to let it cool down.”
“Hungry!” he complained, kicking his little feet in his chair.
“Katsuki,” you warned. He huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at you with those eyes. His mop of blonde hair seemed even more wild than it usually was. Maybe that’s how it looked when he was a child. You reached out and pushed a strand out of his eyes. He scrunched his nose and ducked from your hand.
When you were satisfied that the food was cool enough to eat, you pushed the bowl towards him. Katsuki stared at it, and then at you, and then back to the bowl. It was as if he had never seen something like it before in his life.
“Here,” you said, picking up the spoon and scooping it into the bowl. You held your hand underneath it to keep it from dripping everywhere and pushed it towards Katsuki’s mouth. “Say ‘ahhhh’.”
“Ahhhhh,” he repeated, opening his mouth and taking the bite. His little eyes lit up with happiness, immediately chewing and swallowing and opening for another one. You chuckled and fed him more, until he had finished the entire bowl.
“Good job!” you said, folding your hands and smiling at him. “Did you get enough?”
Katsuki responded with a yawn, his tiny hands rubbing his eyes. He looked like he was about to fall asleep in his chair.
“C’mon,” you said, picking him up. His head fell against your shoulder as you carried him to the bedroom, where you gently placed him underneath the blankets. Katsuki was already fast asleep when you patted his head, shaking your head in disbelief. “Demon child.”
You decided you would take a nap too, out on the couch. Somehow watching a child for a few mere hours was exhausting. As you stretched your legs out and yawned, you decided you would call Midoriya when you woke up again.
“Hey, dumbass.”
You blinked your eyes groggily, not sure what time it was or where you were. The apartment was dark and there was drool on your pillow.
“Katsuki?” you groaned, sitting up on the couch. “Are you...are you back to normal?”
“Yeah,” he growled, and you felt the couch dip as he sat down next to you. “Stupid Quirk. I hated every minute of it.”
“Wait, so you were aware of what was going on?” you asked, scooting closer to him. “The whole time?”
“The whole time,” he said. He gave you a sideways glance, a sly grin on his face. “I can’t believe you cooked and fed me curry.”
“I did what I thought you wanted!” you protested, crossing your arms. “I have no idea how to take care of kids.”
Katsuki chuckled. “You seemed to know what you were doing.”
“You were so cute,” you said wistfully, “so tiny.”
“Watch it,” he warned. “I’m not cute. Or tiny.”
You wrinkled your nose. “You’re a little cute. Wait--if you knew what was going on, why did you go to touch the hot stove, dumbass?”
“Because, dumbass,” he said, glaring at you, “I wanted to see what you would do. Turns out you’ve got some pretty fast reflexes. I think our kids will be just fine.”
Your cheeks turned pink. “Our kids?”
Katsuki gave you a pointed look. “Yes, our kids. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”
“I’ve thought about it,” you admitted with a hidden smile. You felt giddy as you snuggled into his side, resting your head on his chest. “Our kids.”
“Our kids.”
#BABY BAKUGO BABY BAKUGO BABY BAKUGO#JGHSJDKHGDKFHGKDJG#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugou katsuki fic#bakugou katsuki x you#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#my hero academia fanfic#mha#bnha
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Sapnap- face cam
Wc- 1987
Warnings- none (I think)
I've been up for almost 30 hours mainly because I was doing college homework all of last night and because my boyfriend Sapnap was streaming and being very loud which kept me up in the first place which was why I did my homework anyway. I love Sapnap to death but sometime he can be a little annoying but I put up with it.
Sapnap only got into bed at 4am and he's still asleep now at 11pm meanwhile since then I've finished a big essay, cleaned the apartment, done another essay and then made breakfast for myself which I'm eating now. I wish I could be this productive when I've had sleep but somehow it never works like that.
Eventually Sapnap came downstairs sauntering because he was still sleepy, some of us wish. He walked right over giving me a hug from behind as I washed some dishes and gave me a kiss on my cheek.
"Morning babe you alright?" He asked
"Yeah I'm good a little tired but I'll live" I replied
"Just to let you know I'll be streaming later" he said
He always tells me when he's streaming because his fans don't know about us and he doesn't want to accidentally reveal anything to protect me which is cute but it gets hard when he streams for hours on end and I need help with something. Sapnap is good about to it though if I really need help I either text him or message him on discord and he'll help but he sometimes doesn't read his messages.
I gave him some of what I made for breakfast and he sat down to eat it while I talked at him about college work that he pretends to care about. He's very supportive of all my college work and he'll let me get on with things if I have to but he will also talk about things with me if I want to. Thats one of the best things about Sapnap is his ability to adapt to how I'm feeling at any given moment and I like to think I'm at least ok at doing the same for him.
After breakfast Sapnap cleaned the rest of the dishes and let me take a shower which was nice and relaxing and woke me up a little bit as the cold water at the start hit my back, usually I would not be under the water as it warmed up but today I felt like I needed a shock to my system to get it going for another day. I had more homework and a lecture to do today so there was no chance for a nap until the evening when it's kind of pointless anyway.
After my shower I got dressed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt because it was comfy for sitting down all day in. Sapnap had got my laptop ready for me and had got me a glass for water which was sweet of him. My lecture was in about 2 minutes so I logged onto the class ready for it to start, when it did I put my headphones on so that Sapnap didn't have to listen to my teacher going on about whatever we were doing today, he always says he doesn't care but even I don't want to listen to it sometimes so there is no way he does.
As I tapped away making notes Sapnap put his hand on my knee rubbing his thumb in circles comfortingly. He does this all the time whether its sat on the sofa like right now or while we're driving somewhere but its safe to say that I love it, it lets me know he's there in a weird way it's like he's acknowledging my presence. At one point he got up and went to the kitchen and when he came back he had my favourite snack which he put between us so that we could share. What a lovely boyfriend he's being today, I'm starting to wonder what he thinks he's done that's he's trying to make up for.
My lecture finally finished after what seemed like and age so I went to get straight on with my last essay that needed submitting by the end of the month but Sapnap shut my laptop before I could get the document open, he grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the sofa and towards the door.
"Come on were going out for a walk" he said
"Why, I have an essay to work on" I whined
"You'll never leave the house if I don't drag you out so come on" he said handing me my shoes
I put them on and grabbed a jacket because according to the weather it was meant to be a little bit chilly out today, Sapnap grabbed the house keys and pushed me out the door onto the street. We don't often go out on walks because neither of us like leaving the house that much if we were to go out it would most likely be in the car to just go for a drive.
The two of us walked down the street holding hands and swinging them back and forth as we took steps forwards. Sapnap clearly had a good idea of where he wanted to go because he was making turns all over the place. Eventually we ended up at the target not that far from our place and we went in looking at everything like you do in target and we topped up on some snacks for a movie night soon.
We left with our snacks and Sapnap dragged me to the nearest park so we could sit outside and get a bit more fresh air. The nearest park is actually the one that we went to on one of our first dates so we have good memories there, on one of the benches by the duck pond is where we had our first kiss and many more after that.
I always love going back to that park with Sapnap because each time we reminisce on the past and talk about the future which seems to change each time we come here. We walked to the exact bench that we had our first kiss on and sat down looking at the scenery. It had changed quite a bit since the first time we were here, there used to be a little play park for kids in the distance but now thats gone and is replaced with a small flower garden instead.
The first time we came here and we talked about the future all we wanted was to still be together after we left for college which of course happened, then the next time we wanted to move in together which we did and now. I'm not really sure what the future holds for us but I'm sure it will be interesting.
"Wow its been so long since we came here we have changed so much and achieved everything that we wanted to" he said
"I know its so weird to think that our last goal was to move in together and now we have been living together for 5 months where do you think we will end up in the future?" I asked
"On man I have no idea but I would love to still be living together and maybe in a bigger place and maybe even be engaged" he said
This shocked me I never expected him to say that but I guess that is the next logical step for us to take in our relationship.
"I like the sound of that" I said
We went back home and Sapnap went to stream while I worked on my essay he didn't tell me how long he was going to stream for but it will probably be about 3 hours. So I sat down and got on with writing the last 15 pages of my essay which would probably take me the entire time he was streaming maybe longer.
My essay took me almost exactly 4 hours to do but when I tried to submit it it wouldn't upload which happens from time to time. I looked at the upload speed of the WiFi since Sapnap taught me how to do it and it was fine but I assumed that it was being used for something else. This problem has happened before when Sapnap is uploading a video so I assumed that was the issue.
It got up and walked to Sapnap’s streaming room waiting outside for a moment to double check that he wasn't still streaming, I waited a couple minutes and heard nothing so I knocked and went in.
As soon as I went in I saw that Sapnap was still streaming and his face cam was on which meant that I was now on his stream in front of however many people. I've never made such a stupid mistake especially one that outs my entire relationship, I just stood in shock not being able to move and get out of the shot. Sapnap had the exact same reaction his face was filled with shock and fear at the same time.
Nothing prepares you for the moment that you expose yourself live in front of probably 100,000 people or more who will record anything that happens. Nothing prepares you for the chaos that will ensue when you do the before mentioned thing and definitely nothing prepares you for the guilt you feel doing so.
"Um hi y/n" He said trying to make things less awkward
"Hey" I replied shyly
He motioned for me to come over because there was no point trying to hide this anymore since no one will believe anything we say now. I stood next to Sapnap luckily being short enough that I still fit in frame but he had obviously given up caring at this point because he pulled me down into his lap to sit while we talked to his chat. Again he did the thing where he rubs his thumb in a circle on my leg and this time it really was for comfort.
"Well chat this is y/n and shes my... girlfriend" he said
"Hi everyone" I said shyly
"Now chat I'm going to need you to be nice to her or I'll be angry because she is very precious to me" he said
His chat were going insane telling others to clip this and people getting way to excited about all of this and some were asking questions. The whole chat was going so incredibly fast that it was hard to read all the messages.
We answered some of the basic questions like how long we have been together and other things, people also asked if George and Dream knew which of course they did and they have made jokes about Sapnap having a girlfriend but no one ever took it too seriously. At one point dream joined the call and started mocking us for being stupid and exposing ourselves and he told some stories that he knew we wouldn't mind him saying which the chat enjoyed.
I started yawning more and more as I stayed on the stream because I wasn't keeping my mind busy my tiredness was taking over. I leant back into Sapnap to rest my head on his shoulder, he out his hand on my head running it through my hair which is very relaxing.
"Are you tired?" He asked
"No I'm fine I can stay awake" I said
"I don't want to hear it I know you've been awake for over 24 hours so you are going to sleep" he almost demanded
He put his arms around my waist and pulled me into a comfortable position where I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost right away forgetting that Sapnap was still streaming but it doesn't matter.
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Once Bitten - Twice Shy
Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.
One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.
Chris Evans x OFC
Note: Thank you to everyone who has read, liked or commented on this story! I appreciate the support.
This was the entirety of my original plot, it was just supposed to be a one shot when I started writing it, but it took on a life of it’s own. There’s quite a bit more to come now so I hope no one is too disappointed by the way this ends! I’ve started working on the sequel and have it all mapped out, but I probably won’t post it until it’s mostly finished like I did with this one. So, keep your eyes peeled and please let me know your thoughts!
Part Two
—-
Part Three
26. 12. 19
Waking up, it took a few moments for the memories of the night before to come back to me. When they did, I was filled with relief that I was alone and Chris was no where to be seen. My head throbbed, partially from the alcohol I'd consumed and partially because of the regrets that were filling my mind.
How could we be so stupid? So reckless? How could we risk everything that we'd built for Grayson just for a few moments of relief? How would I be able to push my feelings for Chris aside again after sharing such intimacy with him?
It broke my heart to make the decision to be friends the first time we found ourselves in this situation, how could I be foolish enough to put myself through that again?
I turned my head and groaned into the pillow, a much more distressed, melancholy groan than the ones leaving my lips the night before. I felt like an idiot and I was dreading facing Chris.
After taking another moment to chastise myself for my bad choices, I checked my phone to see the time and was shocked. It was already almost nine thirty and I hadn't heard a peep from the rest of the house. Unfortunately, that meant I didn't have time to mope around in bed, puzzling out what to do.
So, I took just enough time to decide that I needed to make a quick exit before getting up to get myself ready to leave.
-
When I got to the kitchen, it was surprisingly quiet. None of the men or children were anywhere to be seen as Lisa, Shanna and Carly tidied up the dishes from the breakfast that I'd missed. Apparently, there was another snow storm forecast to start by the early afternoon and everyone had headed out into the snow as soon as they'd finished eating to start shovelling so that we could all leave before it hit.
I was relieved by their quick action because even if I had to shovel the whole driveway by myself and then drive home in a blizzard, I was not sticking around for another night.
Lisa had tried to convince me to let her cook me breakfast, but my stomach was in too many knots to even think about food. I politely declined and settled for a banana and a cup of coffee, chatting with the women as I ate. It distracted me for a while as I tried to shut off some of the noise in my brain, but once I was finished, I knew I had to face the music and head outside.
By the time I got out there, Chris, Scott and their brother-in-law were already halfway down the driveway which was an impressive feat considering how long it was. I waved to them as I put my bag in my car before heading towards where the children were playing in the front yard.
"Mama!" Grayson cheered as I approached them. "Look! We're building a snowman!"
I looked at the sloppy pile of snow they were assembling and smiled.
"Wow, I can see that! Great job, guys!"
He grinned as he ran over to me and threw his arms around my legs. It was a feeling that never got old and I leaned down to squeeze him closer, trying to ignore the wave of guilt that washed over me. He was the most important thing in our situation and we'd lost sight of that.
"Can you help us?"
"Of course," I nodded. "But I need to go talk to your daddy real quick, okay? Then I'll be right back."
"Okay!"
With that, Grayson bolted back over to his cousins to continue their little project. They were so good with him, including him in their games and activities despite his young age and I was happy that he had such good role models to play with. Leaving them under Dodger's watchful eye, I took a deep breath and headed down the driveway to Chris.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Scott shouted over, the first to notice me coming their way. "Thanks for getting up so early to help us shovel the driveway."
I laughed at his sarcasm and stuck out my tongue, but when he shot me a knowing wink, I felt my cheeks burn. Of course Chris would tell him. I should have expected it, they were as close as brothers could be and Chris was always open with his family.
But it just made me feel worse about the conversation I was about to have as I went over to Chris. Luckily, he was on the opposite side of the driveway to the other two. At least that would give us a modicum of privacy.
"Hey, good morning," he grinned. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did," I returned his smile, though mine was much more forced. "Thanks for letting me sleep in."
"Grayson wanted to wake you up at breakfast," he admitted, looking over at our son as he spoke. "He was worried that you'd be hungry when you woke up and there would be no more food left."
I couldn’t help, but laugh at the thought of his concern.
"He's too sweet, but I appreciate you stopping him," I admitted. "I guess I was tired out after last night."
"Last night," Chris smirked. "Last night was..."
He trailed off as he tried to think of a word to describe it, but my smile disappeared entirely as I could tell from the look on his face that we weren't reflecting on our little incident in the same way. So, I beat him to the punch.
"Last night was a mistake."
My words hung between us for a moment and I knew, from the way that his jaw dropped slightly as if I'd just slapped him across the face, that he wasn't happy with what I'd said.
"Oh, don't give me that crap!" He protested once my words had sunk in, keeping his voice low enough that no one would be able to overhear. "You're saying that it meant nothing to you?"
I really wished we weren't outside with so many watchful eyes around, but this conversation needed to be had and at least this way I'd have an excuse to keep things brief.
"I'm saying that it shouldn't have happened," I clarified, my voice wavering slightly as I questioned my own confidence in my words. "We've worked hard to keep things as stable as possible for Grayson and that's what we need to stay focused on."
"So, you just want to pretend that it never happened?"
My heart felt like it was in a vice. I didn't want to pretend it never happened. I wanted to be with Chris, I wanted us to give it a shot, but I knew that it wouldn't work. I was nothing compared to the women that Chris usually dated and when it all fell apart, Grayson would be the one stuck in the middle. It wasn't fair to him.
But that knowledge didn't make it any less painful when I nodded my head.
"I think that's for the best."
Chris scoffed, looking down at the snow as if he couldn't even stand to look at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to run away or cry and throw myself into his arms so I settled for simply standing there quietly, waiting for him to say something.
It felt like an eternity, but after a minute or two of total silence, he finally spoke.
"Just let me make sure that I'm getting this right," he started, looking back up at me with such an intensity that it made my eyes swim with tears. “You really have no feelings for me at all? Because if you feel even a little bit like I do then you couldn’t possibly think you’re making any sense right now.”
I swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with the situation that I found myself in. A situation where Chris could be standing in front of me, telling me that he had feelings for me after all these years that we’d been determined to be just friends. It would have felt like a cruel joke if there wasn’t so much hurt in his eyes, so much fear that I was about to reject him. Fear that proved to be entirely justified when I finally got my emotions under control enough to answer him.
"It doesn't matter," I told him softly. "It's not about what I feel or what you feel. We have someone more important to consider."
“That's bullshit!"
I flinched at the harshness of his words and his raised voice as Scott shouted over a reminder about language as the kids weren't very far away. I could feel the tears still filling my eyes, but I knew I had to stick to my guns.
"It's not bullshit," I insisted. "It's the right thing to do."
"But you said yourself, he's starting to notice that things are different," Chris pointed out, his voice thankfully much softer than it had been moments ago . "Why not take the chance to give him a normal family if that's what we both want anyway?"
"Because it will hurt him more if it doesn't work out."
"Hurt him?" Chris questioned, his scowl deepening. "Or hurt you?"
Both of us.
The truth was that I was worried that Chris would hurt me just as much as I worried that our decision would hurt Grayson, but I could handle the risk to myself if it was my choice. I couldn't handle our son being collateral damage.
I could feel Chris' gaze locked intently on me, but I couldn't lift my eyes to meet his. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold onto my argument when the decision I was making wasn't even what I truly wanted. I needed this conversation to end before I let my guard down and made anymore stupid choices.
"We can't talk about this here, Chris."
"Well, when will we talk about it then?"
"I don't know," I shrugged. "I need to think."
Chris shook his head as a sigh fell from his lips. He looked defeated.
"Alright."
I took that as an end to the conversation and turned to walk away, but I'd only made it a few steps when Chris called out to me again.
"I care about you, Whitney," he told me as I looked back over my shoulder. "This wasn't nothing to me. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to make this work."
That only made me feel worse as I had done it without such noble intentions and with doubt still plaguing my mind. I felt cowardly, but I couldn't bring myself to answer him as I looked away and continued on my way back towards our son.
-
I stayed outside, playing with the kids in the snow, until the driveway was clear. Once my car was free, I scooped Grayson up and said my goodbyes.
"Be good for your dad, okay?"
"Okay, Mama!" He smiled, pressing a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek. "I love you!"
"I love you too, buddy. I'll see you in a few days."
I put him down and waved as he ran back to follow his cousins who were heading inside.
Turning back to my car, I wasn’t entirely surprised to see Chris leaning against the hood. However, I was surprised to see that the scowl that had been firmly on his face since we talked had eased somewhat and I was even more surprised when he pulled me into a hug as soon as I was close enough.
"Drive safe," he warned me. "The roads still look pretty bad."
"I will," I nodded, easing myself out of his grip. "And I'm sorry, Chris. I really am."
"Don't sweat it." He shrugged, but the dejected look on his face did little to assure me that he accepted my apology. "We'll talk soon though, right?"
I nodded and stepped back, moving to get into my car as Chris moved away from the hood.
He stayed there on the driveway, watching me as I turned the car around and waving as I drove off until he was out of sight.
I felt exhausted and heavy. There were tears brewing in my eyes as I turned onto the road, just as they had been when I drove these streets on Christmas Eve as I was taking Grayson to dad's house and thinking I would be spending the holidays alone. It was amazing to me how I managed to escape the sad, bleak Christmas that I had been anticipating at that point, and yet still somehow managed to come away feeling just as lonely.
And it was amazing to me that I ever let myself think that raising a child with Chris Evans wouldn't be emotionally draining as long as we weren't in a relationship. At this point, it seemed to just make things harder, but I knew that one day both of them would thank me for the sacrifice I was making right now.
I knew that it was the right decision for all three of us and one little slip up, one lapse in judgment and will power, wouldn't derail all the hard work that Chris and I had put in to co-parenting our son.
Or, at least, I hoped with all my heart that it wouldn't.
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the long awaited (not rlly ahdbajd) lore post about how the band's dynamic and relationships fluctuate throughout the eight (?) years the fic follows!!!
(so, i realise that in the show, they're 13 in 2019/20 but i kinda forgot abt that when i was making this au so the band starts blowing up in 2013 when, canonically they would've been like 5 so i accidentally aged them all up and now they're 20)
2013 - they're 13 and very close to falling apart as a group. the only thing keeping them together is the fact that they wouldn't rlly have anyone else to go to. the leader is clearly sasha and the other two kinda do what she says. ofc anne argues w her a lot, because she's fed up with the way her and marcy are treated and how all their ideas are chucked out the window. eventually, i think sasha crosses a line (maybe smth like in the show, she keeps anne out instead of letting her go home to her bday party) and anne decides that it's time for them to go their separate ways.
however, they get thrown into fame and suddenly there is no chance of them breaking up the band and going their separate ways. so they're practically forced to stay together and have to pretend to get along for the public. ofc sash and anne rlly don't like it, but they try. though, it usually ends up in arguments or snide remarks that get under the other's skin and marcy having to come between them and settle it. leading to even more strain on their friendship.
2014 - somehow, it's got worse. anne and sasha weren't on talking terms for half the year due to a falling out over costumes that got a bit heated. marcy was constantly flitting between the two, trying desperately to make amends because people were starting to notice the tension when they did interviews. ofc they tried to keep up the 'we're besties' thing, but even that was quickly falling apart. it doesn't help that the entire time, sasha has been trying to control everything the band does from songs, to how they stand on stage.
both of them kept asking for the band to break up, w sasha saying she would rather go solo than perform w anne, but the idea got shot down p early on due to them being one of the biggest teen bands in the world, so they kinda just, force themselves to make up. and it's awkward for a while, but at least they aren't arguing over every single thing and marcy doesn't have to chose who she's going to hang out w that day. but then that all goes down the drain when sasha has a major falling out w their manager (hop pop) over smth p trivial but ofc it ends up blowing up and everyone ends up taking sides creating a split between both the band and the bts team.
2015 - i think this is when they reach their breaking point and the band goes on an unexplained 'hiatus' for a year, all their concerts get cancelled and they don't produce any music and it seems none of the girls are w eachother (via social media). they go through an unofficial break up. it had actually been initiated by marcy because she simply couldn't deal w the stress of trying to hold the band together anymore and decided it was a good idea for them to split (it also helped that she was closest to the head of their label so she managed to convince him to let them go)
the three hardly talk during their break, i think they're all angry at eachother (marcy w both of them and anne and sasha w each other) so they just decided to steer clear of having to talk to them. during this time sasha does release a solo album and it actually gets quite big because its very obviously her own thoughts and feelings and everyone can tell she worked hard on it, but (and sasha also admits it) it feels like its not as good as it could've been if she was w the other two.
and i feel like that's kinda what spurs her to maybe start getting her act together! like obviously she doesn't 'change' but i think she accepts that marcy and anne are their own people and know what they want. so she ends up trying to get them back together, and it doesn't actually take the other two much convincing (they missed being together a lot more than they care to admit)
2016 - slowly, they're starting to grow closer again. they start hanging out a trio, even when they're alone. anne and sasha hardly argue and they actually think abt each other's ideas. marcy is a lot more relaxed because they don't have to mediate every convo the group has and she doesn't have to worry abt the other two saying something too serious to the other.
ofc they still fight, but they aren't as often and certainly not as messy. they wouldn't consider each other best friends, but they are friends again. i like to think they're both closer to marcy than each other, but they're getting somehwere.
however, no actual apologies were ever said (mainly from sasha ngl) and although anne and marcy like to pretend they're over it, they would still be slightly upset abt it.
2017 - this is the year of sasha's Character Development (TM) according to marcy. idk yet what makes her realise (maybe someone asking her why she's always so distant and awful to the other two, or maybe a question abt why they split up), but it's this year that it clicks for her that she's not been a great friend. so she definitely spends a long time trying to grow and work to fix her mistakes.
i feel like it's around this time she would also kinda step down from her role as the 'leader' of the band, now officially giving all three of them the same amount of control about what they make and how they do it (although, they still don't have much because of the label, but anne and marcy now have more than they did). so now they're all on equal ground and are making amends. she also stops trying to take control of eveything, esp things that are out of her hands (like where they tour and what interviews they do)
not that there aren't still arguments, there are but they never get to the point that they don't talk to each other. there is a pretty big argument between sasha and marcy, but it gets resolved quite fast!
2018 - 2019 - honestly, everything seems to be going smoothly for them. sasha and anne are growing closer (and they're both trying to ignore that weird feeling they get in their stomachs when they get too close in rehearsals/concerts), all three of them are hanging out almost all the time, if one of them is around the other two are close by.
i think they also start opening up to each other around this time, not that they didn't before, but with the amount of problems they had, it wasn't exactly easy to talk abt super personal stuff. but they start, and i think it was anne that started it, she's always been the most open w her emotions and it just increases the closer they get. she also manages to get both marcy and sasha to open up a bit!
2020 - by this time, i think they pretty much consider each other best friends again (well, more for sasha and anne, but they haven't exactly realised they like each other yet. marcy has though and they're tired of the pining at this point).
and i dont want to say anything else because this is where the fic pics up!!! it was super fun trying to work all this stuff out sbsbbssh, it isn't all like 100% set in stone, some stuff is liable to change but pls feel free to ask any questions!!! thank u all for reading this far and i hope u enjoyed some sats au lore <3
#i literally think one person asked for this but here you go!!!!!#anyway this is super long and took me multiple hours so i do hope you all enjoy hdujahdkhdlad#sasha and the sharps au#amphibia#sasha waybright#marcy wu#anne boonchuy#marie.txt
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hold up - andy barber fluff
The one where Andy gets you pregnant but you’re young and haven’t been dating for long.
Warnings: Age gap (Divorced!Andy w/ College!Reader, so she’s legal), pregnancy, light angst, supportive!Andy, mentions of abortion, fluff, mentions of smutty thoughts so I don’t think I advise minors to read this, AU! where Jacob is alive and in college and Laurie and Andy are divorced, minor medical scare from Andy’s confusion, miscommunication that leads to slightly asshole!Andy but it’s quick
A/N: Special thanks to @navybrat817 and @angrythingstarlight for helping me choose this collage. This fic was requested a while back. I ended up focusing more on the fact that the reader was younger than Andy (which wasn’t even part of the request) than on the fact that they hadn’t been dating for long, mostly because in my mind, this was happening in the same universe as this fic. Hope you guys like it and respect the reader’s decision to keep the baby the same way you should respect it if she decided to abort it or give it up for adoption.
Andy’s P.O.V.
Another day, another case, another headache. Working in law gets more tiring every day, and yet I persisted. Even through a divorce and its subsequent complications, I persisted. Sometimes, I forgot why.
I missed the days I remembered why I got into law in the first place. Those idyllic mornings, when I still thought I could change the world. Now all I wanted to do was to get home and eat my girlfriend’s pussy until she passed out from pleasure.
Just the thought of her sweet cunt had me licking my lips as I drove back to my place, wishing I could stop by hers instead. It still weirded me out that I was now in a relationship with someone that was my son’s age, someone who was still in college, but then I remembered all the moments we shared and was overcome with the realization that I simply didn’t want to let her go.
I knew it was selfish of me, but I believed I deserved at least this good thing in my life after my separation. As long as she wanted me, I wouldn’t let her go. And I was pretty sure that if she decided to leave me, I’d still fight for her to stay.
I loved her. I loved her enough to get through the hazard that was coming clean about our relationship to Jacob. I loved her enough to dream about a future together, even if it looked too far away for now.
Still, I’d caught myself daydreaming about coming home to her more and more these days. It seemed that the more exhausted I was, the more I wanted her to be waiting for me when I crossed the apartment’s door, and I found myself thinking about buying a ring too many times for someone who had gone through such a lousy divorce and was dating a girl who still had college exams to worry about.
I knew our future together - if there even was one - was still too far, but I couldn’t help but want it now. Like, right now. So the fact that I wouldn’t be able to see her for another week or so while she prepared for finals was the closest thing to hell I could go through right now.
Which only made the sight of her by my apartment’s door that much sweeter. “Baby girl, what are you doing here?” Not even giving her the chance to explain, I pulled her into a needy kiss, desperate to taste her again.
I didn’t even notice that, in my eagerness to have her in my arms once more, I had dropped my briefcase and coat on the floor, opting to pay attention to the girl I held in the middle of the hallway.
I only saw the tracks of tears in her beautiful face when I released her, too. Immediately, my heart started to pound against my chest. Could something bad have happened to her? Was she hurt?
Cradling her face in my hands, I automatically started to wipe away her tears. “What’s going on, sweetheart? Why are you crying?” For whatever reason, my words only served to cause her crying to become more frantic, her sobs breaking out of her chest freely now.
My heart felt heavy at the sight of her that desperate. The urgent need to do something, to help her, but not knowing what could be done made my throat feel like it was closing. So I did the first thing I could come up with - I picked her up, not caring about my personal belongings at all as I managed to open the door and take her to the couch with me.
“Shh… It’s alright, baby girl. I’m right here with you. Just tell me what happened, I’m sure I can help you somehow.” Again, it seemed like it was the wrong thing to say. My words took her to the verge of a panic attack if her breathing pattern was anything to go by, so I bit my tongue and focused on what I knew I could do at that very moment to help her, even if it was very little. I pulled her even closer to me, so her head was resting on my chest, and softly cradled her while rubbing her arm with one hand, while the other played with her hair. “I love you,” I repeated, over and over again. “You’re okay.”
It took some time, much longer than I hoped for, but at last her sobs started to come in bigger intervals, her breathing becoming deeper again. Slowly, she started to calm down and focus on me, and I waited until she was ready to speak, terrified of making her start crying again by pushing her to share what had caused such a terror.
“I went to the doctor today,” she started, and if at first my mind drew a blank because I had in no way anticipated this to be the start of her explanation, my heart quickly started to pound against my chest when I managed to process what she had said.
Was she sick? I knew she had been feeling a bit under the weather recently, even throwing up some mornings, but I thought it was a bug that had been going around. She was in college, after all, and those environments were filled with bacteria, just waiting to spread any sort of illness they could provoke.
Was it something serious? For her to be that way, it had to have been. My hands started to sweat at the prospect of losing her. Automatically, I held her tighter, in desperate need to hear more but terrified of what was coming our way.
But she didn’t seem able to say it, whatever it was. Her eyes that had finally connected to mine since she started crying, suddenly fell down to her own hands, and her sniffles warned me that she had started to cry again.
“Y/N…” I begged, covering her hands with mine. “Princess, please, please talk to me. I’m going crazy here, sweetheart. I feel like I might pass out any second now.” Surprisingly, that granted me a giggle, and then, through sniffles and tears, she finally looked up at me again.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
I didn’t know how to drop this bomb on Andy. How do you tell your much older boyfriend, who already has a child who’s your exact age, that you’re pregnant with his kid? I was terrified. Terrified that he wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore, that he would try to force me to get an abortion.
Terrified that I would have to do this alone.
But I had to tell him. Of course, I had. So taking one last deep breath, I squeezed the hand that was holding mine before confessing, in the bluntest possible way, since it was the only one I could come up with right now, “I’m pregnant.”
I don’t know what I was expecting. I hadn’t actually had the time to figure out how to tell him the news - hence my blurting in the simplest possible way - but that also meant I hadn’t really imagined any outcome for this. I had a lot of fears, of course, but no actual expectation. Still, Andy’s reaction managed to catch me by surprise.
At first, there was nothing at all. He just sat there, his huge hands still covering mine as he stared at me with a blank expression in his face. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could even hear it, amidst the silence in the room. Then, out of nowhere, he pounced on me, effectively knocking me back on the couch when he captured my lips with his.
I couldn’t catch my breath as he enthusiastically devoured me, his hands cradling my face and caging me in as he forced me to make out with him on his sofa, like two teenagers after school. Andy was such a great kisser that it was hard for me not to melt against the soft cushions, instinctively opening my legs further so he could fit perfectly between them.
The way his strong body made me feel when it was covering mine was precisely what had got us in this mess, in the first place.
“Andy…” I tried to speak and push him away, but he was still kissing me desperately, opting for quick pecks around my face since I didn’t let him deepen his kiss again. “Andy!” I admonished when he continued to ignore me, choosing to suck tiny little bruises from my jaw down to my neck, instead.
���Baby, I’m terrified over here. Can you please stop trying to distract me and tell me what you’re thinking?” That caught his attention. He finally reduced his kisses, slowly going back to his seating position on the couch and bringing me with him, laying me over his lap again.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s just… I’m so fucking relieved. First, I thought you’d break up with me. Then, since you talked about going to the doctor’s, I thought something was wrong with you. I was desperate, baby girl. Desperate. I figured, one way or another, I was going to lose you. And I don’t want to lose you.”
Hearing what was going on through his mind while I struggled to figure out how to explain what was happening made my heart feel heavy with guilt. I guess that, in the state I was in I kind of thought he would have realized what I was going to say, or simply not anticipate any sort of information whatsoever, so to hear that his mind jumped to these worst-case scenarios was heartbreaking to me.
“You’re not gonna lose me,” I assured him, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it in a small show of support. “I’m right here. But we need to figure out how we’re going to do this.” Andy blinked a few times before managing to voice his confusion.
“Do this what?” And then it was my turn to be confused.
“This… kid. What are we gonna do about this?” I watched as his nostrils flared, his grip on me momentaneously hardening, before he managed to get his emotions in check through a long exhale.
“You’re not seriously considering aborting my child, right?” The question - the tone - was like a slap to the face. In all honesty, that option had never even crossed my mind, but the way he was saying it, like I had no say in the matter, killed me inside.
“I’m gonna give you the time to figure out what the hell is wrong with you. I know that this is a pretty overwhelming situation and I just sprung this on you, but that is no excuse to address me in such a manner. Especially if you consider just how much I’m the one who’s really going to have my entire life turned upside down because of this.”
Andy’s P.O.V.
I groaned as I watched her leave the room in the direction of the bathroom, knowing this was her way of letting me know I shouldn’t look for her until I was prepared to apologize. But I was already ready. I knew how terrible my words had sounded, but it came from a place of love and happiness with the situation other than possessiveness.
So, with that in mind, I rubbed my face before getting up and following her, just in time to find her reentering my bedroom. “I’m sorry, princess. I-I just didn’t know how to react when the thought of you getting an abortion popped into my mind. It’s not like you’re a fucking one night stand or a fling to me, but you’re absolutely right. It’s your body and you should do what makes you comfortable. I just ask you to keep in mind that I would love to have this child with you. I’d support you - I’d support the both of you unconditionally. I know we’ve only been dating for a few months, but I’m serious about you. I’m serious about us. I’d marry you tomorrow if it’s what you need to know how serious I really am about this. And yeah, it’s gonna be hard, but I’m here for you. I’m always gonna be here for you, every step of the way.”
By the time I was done with my speech, she had tears in her eyes again, only this time, I knew what it was about, so I only chuckled. “Come here, sweetheart.” I pulled her to me, hugging her close to my body as I caressed the back of her head. “We’re gonna be okay, one way or another.”
“You sure you’re not just gonna abandon me with a small child?” I knew that her question came from a place of insecurity, but I still couldn’t control myself as a growl escaped my chest, my hands tightening around her, as I reminded her, “You’re mine, baby girl. I’m never gonna leave you. Don’t even think that.”
Slowly, she stopped crying, until only a few sniffles were heard every once in a while. “Okay,” she mumbled in a small voice, clearing the bedroom from what was once a silent atmosphere.
“Okay?”
“Okay, let’s do this. Let’s… Let’s have a baby together.”
A huge smile slowly took over my face as I cradled hers in mine to make sure there was no trace of hesitation in her eyes. “We’re gonna be parents?”
“We’re gonna be parents,” she confirmed, accepting my hug again. “Well, you’re already a parent.” The reminder had me chuckling to myself.
“I can’t wait to tell Jacob about this. He’s going to flip.” The mischievous tone in my voice earned me a playful slap on the shoulder.
“No teasing him more than necessary, Andrew. He’s already going to be pretty affected by this.”
“Can’t make any promises.”
#my fics#andy barber fluff#andy barber angst#angst#fluff#andy barber#andy barber fiction#andy barber writing#andy barber writings#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber ff#andy barber reader#andy barber oneshot
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GF - Mabel’s Worry
Collab with @clownwry! They’ve been super sweet and very nice, and after getting inspired by this post, I decided to write a full on-fic about it... but then it spiraled out of control, so enjoy an angsty story featuring the sweater twins!
~~~~~~~~~~
Mabel sat up quickly, breathing just as heavy as an Olympic runner. She shook her head to clear it and she hugged her knees in self-embarrassment. It was just a stupid nightmare. Vague, no real plot, but still carried the overall message, the fear, anxiety, and still made Mabel’s blood run cold and sweat sparkle on her forehead. She needed to calm down, get herself together. Milk. Warm milk.
And so she quietly got out of bed and left her shared attic bedroom for downstairs. Despite being gone for nine months, she still knew this dark home by heart. She could walk it blindfolded if needed, but the moonlight leaking in through the triangular windows helped her in her journey. That and a small light coming from the living room. Like a moth to a flame, Mabel sleepily dragged her socked feet to the room and peaked through the doorway, half of her face hidden by wood and shadow.
Grunkle Ford was sitting in the armchair, reading a book in the light of a lamp. Mabel’s spirit was lifted, relieved and happy to see him, but she was hesitant to bother him. He was happy with his book, she really shouldn’t bother him with her own stupid problems. She should probably just go get her drink and go to bed and leave him alone. But then Grunkle Ford’s instincts alerted him of a spy and he looked up and instantly smiled.
“Mabel,” His blissful facial expression dropped suddenly remembering that she went to bed a few hours ago and it wasn’t quite daylight yet. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
This really wasn’t like her, for words to fail leaving her mouth, for her to be silent or non-vocal. But all Mabel could do was barely step into the light, hands behind her back, and shrug with her eyes to the floor. She was silent because she was afraid of what she would say if she dared to give herself the opportunity to talk. Ford grew more concerned, but he knew what to do; he had more practice under his belt now than he did months ago. He smiled softly at his niece, closed his book and sat it on the dino skull, and patted his thigh. “Come here.”
Mabel looked up and bit her lip. The dame broke over her uncle’s kindness. With watering eyes she ran into his lap and clung onto him tightly, burying her face in his chest and whimpering as tears left her eyes. Ford hugged her back tightly and petted her soft long brown hair. The girl might be thirteen, but that doesn’t mean she would stop having nightmares or no longer need comfort. Moses knows, as much as he would deny it, Ford still had nightmares and still needed reassurance. Not to mention it was well-earned after everything he and his family had been through… everything he put his family through…
Mabel was mumbling something into his maroon sweater. Ford thought it was moans, sobs, but as he listened he could actually make out words. “M’sorry… m’sorry…”
“Hey, hey.” Ford said softly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.”
“... didn’t mean t’bother you…”
“Oh,” Ford cooed as gentle as a lamb. “Oh, sweetheart, you could never bother me. Never.”
Mabel sniffed. “M’sorry.” Whether she was still sorry for bothering him or sorry for being sorry was a bit unclear, but Ford decided it didn’t matter.
“It’s alright.” Ford eased. “It’s alright, my dear.”
After a few minutes of letting Mabel cry into his chest, Ford could feel Mabel make a sharp shiver in his hold. He got a pretty good idea, and so he gently had Mabel let him go. She whimpered like a puppy denied a treat, but she watched with sparkling eyes as Ford slipped off his maroon sweater, revealing a thin long-sleeved white undershirt, and he sweetly pulled it over Mabel’s head and smiled at her. She helped him by slipping her arms into the correct holes and she grinned as she now wore Ford’s old red sweater. Nearly every day he wore a Mabel Sweater she had made for her, whether she mailed it to the Stan O’ War while they were apart, or she gave it to him in person. Only every so often did he wear his old sweater, but they were both glad he did.
Mabel allowed her head to sink deeper into the worn yarn. Her senses and lungs were drowned in Ford’s scent, which brought along happy memories and good emotions. She hugged Ford again and he happily held her, petting her hair and just being there.
A few minutes of silence passed, and Ford made a prediction that it was a good time to check on her verbally. “Feeling better? Mabel?” He looked down and Mabel was asleep, one arm still around him, one hand holding onto his undershirt. Ford chuckled warmly in his chest, slowly stood, and carried Mabel to the attic to tuck her in.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Dipper, they’re ready!” Mabel called.
Dipper hurried up the stairs and ran into his shared bedroom, plopped on the beanbag, and Mabel started the call on the laptop they had on the floor between the two beds. The grunkles answered at once, sitting at the table and grinning.
“Well hey there, gremlins! How was your week?” Stan greeted.
“Pretty good, just the usual school stuff.” Dipper answered.
“Did you get the package?” Mabel asked.
Ford grinned and picked up the large sealed box and placed it on the table. “Yes, perfectly intact! We picked it up in Pevek two days ago.”
“What?! And you haven’t opened it?!”
“Oh, well we thought we should wait until…”
“You two will freeze!” Mabel shook her head and smiled. “Open it and get warm!”
Stan rolled his eyes as he pulled out his pocketknife and cut the tape. “Sweetie, in the last two years we’ve been sailing you’ve sent us three trunks full of blankets, eight pairs of gloves, at least a dozen sweaters for each of us, six scarves…”
“Not that we don’t appreciate it, we always love your packages, my dear.” Ford interrupted. “But you work too hard. We’re never cold thanks to you.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Mabel said firmly.
“Oh wow! Mabel!” Ford gasped happily as he pulled out a new green sweater-vest with golden diamonds and a long-sleeved salmon button up. “This is beautiful!” Ford also pulled out a regular dark-orange turtleneck.
Stan noticed there had been two stacks of things. Ford had already taken out his stack, so the old conman grinned as he plunged his hand into the box and grabbed his new baby-blue sweater with a sailboat on it. “Sweet! And look here!” Stan pulled out another sweater, this one being a warm cream color with tiny pinetrees on the neck and wrists and waist of the sweater. “Wow, Mabel! Just when I thought your sweaters couldn’t get more impressive… this is so cool!”
Mabel blushed over the compliments. “I’m glad you like them. There’s still…”
“Oh, my dear, this must have taken you ages!” Ford pulled out one last item: a large knitted blanket to go with the others, this one made with very thick yarn that was as soft as the melody of youthful days. It was very large and could easily cover both men, and it resembled the sky perfectly, being dark blue with white specks.
“Thank you, pumpkin, this is amazing!”
Mabel grinned and said, “Just please stay warm.”
Ford smiled and nodded. “Of course we will. We’re always careful, my dear. And thanks to you I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be cold.”
Mabel wasn’t sure if she bought it, the number of times she saw their chattering teeth, tight jaws, and rosy cheeks and noses in pictures, but she decided not to fight it and she just smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~
There are some benefits to living in the glorious year of 2014. Many different forms of communication allow people to keep in contact, no matter how far apart they are. So not only did Ford, Stan, Dipper, and Mabel, text every day and send pictures and emails, they always had their Saturday night/Sunday morning video call. Always. So, of course, Mabel and Dipper were a little concerned when no one responded to their text messages to ask if they were ready for the call.
“Hey guys! Ready?”
“Rise and shine, sleepy heads! Can’t wait to see you guys!”
“Are you guys okay? We understand if you can’t make it this week.”
“Is something wrong? We’re not mad, but could you please text us.”
“Guys, seriously, this isn’t funny…”
“If we don’t hear back from you guys I will call the FBI! The CIA!”
“You guys do know how to use your phones, right?”
“Are you guys hurt?! ARE YOU DEAD?!”
Dipper looked up from his phone and across his bedroom. Mabel was in Sweatertown on her bed, buried in her favorite nightgown. Dipper sighed and moved to sit next to her. “Mabel, it’ll be okay.”
“They’re jerks.” Mabel mumbled from within the maroon yarn.
Dipper smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll get payback when they finally answer.”
Mabel lifted her head just enough to peek at his twin. “But what if they never do…” And tears formed.
Dipper rubbed her back and said, “They will. I swear.”
But they didn’t. As time ticked from ten o’clock at night to midnight to even three o’clock in the morning, Dipper and Mabel stayed awake, waiting for a response, both of them knowing any attempt to sleep was futile. And when Mabel’s phone buzzed and rang for a video-call, they both dove and Mabel clicked the green button with a shaking hand.
~~~~~~~~
Stan gave his brother the mug of warm water. “You’re an idiot.”
Ford snorted and sipped the warm drink. “This isn’t coffee.”
“You don’t need coffee, you need to get hydrated.” Stan collapsed into the couch next to his brother. His eyes landed on the wall-clock, and he shot up quickly and ran for the bedroom. “DAMN IT!”
“What? What is it?!” Ford gasped.
“It’s Sunday!”
Ford groaned and slapped his forehead.
Stan grabbed his phone and found a dozen text messages from each kid and some missed phone calls. “Ah jeez, I know you’re wiped out, Sixer, but we gotta talk to these kids.”
“I don’t care if I’m on my deathbed, we’re calling them.” Ford hollered back as he loosened the grip of his blanket and Stan entered the room. His brother sat next to him and called Mabel’s phone.
At once Stan’s phone lit up with two distressed looking kids, both with wide eyes but missing their bedheads. “YOU’RE OKAY!” The two teenagers cried out.
Stan winced. “Kids, we’re really really sorry…”
“What happened?!” Mabel gasped. “Grunkle Ford, are you okay?! You don’t look very good, are you sick?!”
“Mabel, sweetie, I’m okay.” Ford eased. “I… erm, I fell overb-...”
“YOU FELL IN THE OCEAN?!” Mabel yelled in horror.
“Ssh, Mabel!” Dipper hissed, eyeing the door.
“Are you okay?! Are you on your way to a hospital?! Do you need anything? We can hitchhike…”
“Mabel, Mabel, please, I’m alright, Stanley’s been taking excellent care of me.” Ford said firmly. “I’m sorry we scared you, sweetie, but…”
“Well, good!” Mabel snapped, visibly angry and now full-on scolding. Stan and Ford glanced at each other nervously, getting flashbacks of scoldings from their mother. “You should be, knuckleheads! We can’t tell if you’re even still alive unless you tell us! Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear?! If something happened to you… I’m glad you’re happy and doing what you love, but PLEASE don’t kill yourselves doing it!” Mabel bit her lip as she realized she was yelling, and she used the long sweater sleeve to wipe at her damp eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“Aw, pumpkin, it’s okay.” Stan replied calmly. “You’ve got every right to be mad at us. I’m sorry, I should have at least texted you. But I honestly didn’t cuz I was busy keeping this dork alive.” Stan teased, elbowing Ford and making him smile. “So, yeah, that was really scary and that wasn’t fair, but he’s gonna be just fine and we’re both okay and you know that now. Right?”
Mabel held her knees and sunk her face into Ford’s old sweater, only her eyes and the top half of her face visible now, but she wasn’t looking at them. “Yeah… Yeah, okay…”
“Mabel,” Ford said firmly. “Mabel, look at me.” He waited until her eyes were on him, and he smiled softly and said, “We’re okay. I promise, we’re both okay.”
Mabel couldn’t help but return the smile. “Okay… okay…” She sniffed and lifted her head a little, but her chin was still happily buried in red yarn. “So, tell us what happened? Was it the Kraken again?”
Stan grinned at the opportunity for a story, and the kids happily sat and listened.
~~~~~~~~~~
Almost fifteen-years-old. Dipper should know better than to run off into the woods after a dangerous anomaly, but he did it anyway. Mabel stayed home to make sure the monster didn’t come back, and was soon reunited with her boys as they arrived, breathing heavily. Dipper was okay for the most part. His arm was hurt and he had a black eye, but he was okay, and their grunkles were only a little scuffed and there was a leaf or two in Ford’s fluffy hair.
Mabel hurried to Dipper, but instead of hugging him like the three guessed she would, she smacked her brother over the head.
“Hey!”
“Mabel!”
“You KNUCKLEHEAD!” Mabel screamed. “Don’t you EVER do that again, you hear?! Don’t you dare! What were you thinking?! You just HAD to go after it! Couldn’t go inside like a normal person!”
“Good to see you too, sis.” Dipper muttered. “I had it under control.”
“I don’t care! What if you never came back…”
Dipper blinked and interrupted her. “Aw, Mabel, that was never gonna happen.”
Mabel bit her lip, held herself, and looked away.
“M-Mabel, I’m really sorry…”
“Here, let’s get you cleaned up first, and then we’ll talk about this, okay?” Stan eased, sensing that they needed a time-out. “C’mon, kid.”
Dipper sighed and followed Stan to the bathroom where they kept the first aid kit, leaving Ford alone with Mabel, who was well prepared to talk to her.
“Mabel, my dear, you have every right to be upset with him…”
“How could he do that?!” Mabel looked up at her uncle. “How could he think for a second it’s okay to just run off like that?!”
Ford chuckled a little to try to lighten the situation. “You know your brother. He has high ambitions and is extremely curious.”
“That doesn’t matter!” Mabel snapped. “It’s still stupid and selfish! I know he needs to do what he loves, but doesn’t he know how much I need him?! How can he just leave me behind?!”
Ford stared at Mabel. Her voice was cracking, her lip was trembling, and something in her eyes was screaming to be heard. Ford thought for a second, then dared to ask, “A-Are you talking about Stanley and I as well?”
Mabel sobbed. She yelled out in pain and collapsed on the bottom step, burning her face in her hands, and sobbed her heart out. Ford was stunned to hear her cry so hard, in so much emotional pain. She didn’t even cry this hard over any nightmares, and he had dealt with a handful of them. Poor Mabel was crying so hard and violently she gagged and retched occasionally, her body torn if she could cry or not but it was out of her control.
Ford got on his knees before her, but did not touch her. It broke his heart to see her so upset. And he and Stan had done this? Whatever it would take to fix it, he would do it. He was reluctant, but if sailing around the world with his brother was causing this much pain for their girl, then they would both agree to dock for good. “M-Mabel…”
“I understand…” Mabel mumbled through her tears and into her palms. “I understand why you had to go… why you both wanna go… b-b-but what if something happens to you?! How many times have you both gotten sick or hurt or nearly killed?! I miss you all the time and I’m always worried I’ll never see or hear from you again!”
“Oh, Mabel, sweetie…” Ford reached out a hand to put on her shoulder, but Mabel threw herself into Ford’s hold and he hugged her back tightly.
“I get it… I understand why you have to go… so WHY do I still feel this way?!” Mabel sobbed, clinging onto his uncle for dear life. “I’m so angry and scared and hurt! But I don’t want you to stop, I want you to sail cuz I know it makes you happy, but I need you to be okay!”
A lot of things clicked in Ford’s brain. Why Mabel always sent packages full of warm clothes. Why she always asked what they ate. Why she always checked on them. Why she was very observant and asked if they were okay if something was slightly off. Why she easily got worried if she didn’t hear from them. And why she always hugged them like she never wanted to let them go.
Ford blinked his stiff eyes a few times and forced himself to keep it together. “I’m so sorry, Mabel. You and your brother are everything to us. I love you two more than anything. If… If sailing causes you this much distress we can…”
“NO! No no no!” Mabel screamed in horror, holding on tighter. “No, please don’t stop cuz of me! I don’t- That doesn’t matter!”
“Mabel Pines,” Ford said firmly and readjusted his hold on her so he could look her straight in the eye. “You matter.”
“I-I know. I know.” Mabel breathed. “But… please don’t stop sailing cuz of me. Please. I don’t want you to stop. But… I want you and Grunkle Stan to be okay. I… I can’t lose you…”
A large lump was in Ford’s throat. He tried to swallow it away, but it didn’t work. He compromised and took advantage of the silence. He cupped Mabel’s right cheek with his left hand and wiped some tears away with his thumb. Mabel covered his hand with hers and turned her face into his palm.
“I understand, my dear. I do. And I’m so sorry. I swear, we won’t stop sailing unless we want to. You have my word. But I also swear to you that Stanley and I won’t let anything happen. We;re too scared of losing each other to let anything happen, believe me.” Mabel moved her eyes to his. “We will always come home. I promise.”
Mabel hugged her uncle again and cried into his shoulder, leaving him to rub her back and pray she would be okay. Ford opened his eyes and caught the sight of his twin at the top of the stairs. He must have heard Mabel’s screams and come to investigate, but decided to stay out of it. But a look from Ford told Stan that Mabel needed him too, so Stan climbed down the stairs, sat behind her, and hugged them both.
#GF#gravity falls#gift#collab#ford and mabel bonding#fanfiction#clownwry#sea grunks#angst#ANGST AND FLUFF
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For the Love of A Daughter
Masterlist
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: The mom friend (or girlfriend) sometimes needs a mom, too.
Warnings: strained relations with a parent, emotional trauma mentions, a bit of angst, very unedited fic because I refuse to reread this
A/N: surprise Natasha fic as a result of my unresolved issues so I hope you enjoy! also I feel very exposed posting this so excuse me while I hide away.
-
It was no secret that you were the ‘mother’ of the group despite being the youngest, and you were astonishingly good at it.
You were the only person able to convince Tony to sleep at some point during the night. You protected the tower from a few Code Greens by simply knowing exactly how to bring Bruce back to the front lines of his own mind. When Thor visited, you helped him unwind with Earthly snacks and movie marathons. You also helped Natasha get in touch with her emotions more, which played a small part in the two of you getting together.
Anyone from the Red Room knows that emotions are for children, which is why Natasha despised you at first. The first moment you noticed a crack in her hard exterior, you touched it and suddenly the whole thing was shattered. She hated that you read her so easily when her job called for being a closed book.
Unfortunately for her, there were only so many times you could place your warm hands on her heart before she gave into the comforting heat. A few minute talk one night turned into four hours and suddenly you understood why she pushed you away so often. From then on, she leaned into your caring eyes until she fell too far forward and pressed her lips to yours. She’s been glued to you ever since.
As time went on, the rest of the Avengers got used to you lovingly patching their wounds on the jet ride home, bringing a mug of tea to their rooms when JARVIS alerted you of nightmares. Your kindness easily slipped right into their routines, a part of you that everyone eventually and quickly grew to love.
When everyone besides Thor arrived at the tower that evening, an unsettling feeling of dread filled their senses at the silence of the main floor. You’d been out to visit your mother for the first time in a while due to missions, but you promised the group you’d be home before them to make dinner. It wasn’t that they were incapable of feeding themselves (or ordering takeout to feed themselves), but you never broke a promise.
“JARVIS, where is our tiny mother?”
“She has not returned from her outing, sir,” the AI quickly answered Tony and Natasha sighed.
“I’ll call her.”
“Agent L/N has arrived, sir,” JARVIS cut in before she could pull her phone from her pocket.
“And all's right with the world again,” Clint commented with a smile, earning himself a punch in the arm by Natasha.
“Maybe she stopped at that local bakery she likes on the way home. You know, the one that sells the Hulk-shaped cookies,” Bruce suggested as the elevator doors opened.
Your steps seemed to echo as you entered the room until you were greeted warmly by the others, and Natasha only needed a few seconds to look you over and realize you were not yourself. You were a pro at painting a comforting smile on your face but Natasha knew an artist when she saw one, especially one she loved.
“Boys, give us a minute.”
You watched everyone slowly file out of the kitchen to find another room to hang around in, turning to Natasha with a frown.
“Is everything okay, Nat?”
“You tell me.” She stepped closer to you, hands landing on your shoulders and sliding down until your fingers locked together. “Something’s bothering you.”
Your instantly quivering lip and tear-filled eyes left you no room to lie, so you didn’t.
“My mom’s getting married again.” You took a deep breath to prepare yourself to open up farther than you’d ever done before. “I’m actually really happy for her because her partner is a perfect match, but they have kids.”
“Are they little demons or something? I can take care of that, you know.”
“No,” you laughed a bit, the smile falling away quickly after. “No, they’re perfect little angels and I love them...and so does my mom. Probably more than she ever loved me.”
“Don’t you two have a great relationship though?” Natasha questioned, freeing a hand to wipe away an escaped tear.
“Yeah, she likes me now, but she didn’t when it really mattered. When I was their age, I would’ve killed to receive the positive attention and compassion she shows them now, and the more I watched them together, the more I felt like maybe there was something wrong with me.”
The tears fell more frequently now, faster than Natasha could wipe them away, and the waves of hurt emitting from your expression when you locked eyes was enough to wreck her heart.
“I reached out to her so much as a child with my arms opened as wide as they could go, and every time she just stepped around them. It only motivated me more to take all the love I was deprived of and share it with someone else, but sometimes I wish it was just who I was, and not a coping mechanism that turned into a personality trait.”
Natasha pulled you in flush against her, rubbing your back and squeezing a bit tighter when you began to shake in her arms. She held her tongue as she waited for you to calm, only pulling away when your sniffles were few and far apart.
“I know the world hasn’t been fair to you, but I’m proud of who you’ve become, so proud. I love that you were able to turn something so negative and hurtful into something that not only helped you feel better, but has absolutely done great healing wonders on the people around you.”
“What?” You scoffed instantly. “Nat, I didn’t do--”
“Yes you did, babe,” she pressed. “This team wouldn’t function as smoothly as it does without your gentle guidance, and I wouldn’t feel so damn warm inside when I wake up next to you.”
A grin spread across your lips as you pulled her in to kiss you. “Well when you put it that way, I guess I do something around here.”
“You do everything and then some. But don’t forget that you deserve someone to look after you, too.” She pulled out of your embrace, keeping a hold on one of your hands. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” you asked curiously as she led you back to the elevator. “I have to get dinner started.”
Natasha simply shrugged as she pressed the button for the ground floor. “They’ll figure it out. We’re focusing on you right now.”
A short walk later, she watched with a smile as your eyes seemed to find their light again. You were approaching your favorite bakery, and you could tell even through the windows that new items had been added to the cookie section.
“Last time I was in here, I bought one that looked like the tower--” You suddenly gasped, pulling your girlfriend along with you before she could even ask what was wrong. “Look!”
Peering into the glass, she spotted her likeness in cookie form, beautifully dressed in her Black Widow suit. It was pretty flattering to see, but she couldn’t fight the cocky smirk that formed as she leaned in to whisper in your ear.
“If you wanted to eat me, we could’ve just stayed home.”
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#avengers x reader#avengers#avengers fanfic#avengers imagine#the avengers#avengers x you#avengers x fem!reader
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31 + 34 with javi pls <3
Perfect - Javier Peña x F!Reader
You have no idea how much I like actually love requests though!! Sorry it took me so long <3
Prompts:
31: “You’re not going out dressed like that”
34: “You’re so perfect it hurts”
Masterlist
Your clammy hands were shaking as you checked yourself in the mirror yet again. You looked amazing, the short dress with cut-outs leaving little to the imagination. Today would be your first time on the frontline. The Rodriguez brothers were having themselves a little get together, the perfect way for you to infiltrate and get some intel. It wasn’t exactly your style, but you knew for a fact that the only women there were either the ones they scattered from brothels or the rich girlfriends and wives of other sicarios. And since you had no husband for the night, you had to opt for the classic prostitute, much to your own dismay. It wasn’t the first time you’d been used for your assets, the delicate touch and approach of a woman having been proved successful more than once. But to your personal relief, Chris and Daniel, two fellow agents working under Peña, would be right there alongside you.
The tacky red lipstick sat on the counter, practically laughing at you. You quickly put it on, sighing as you reached for the cheap perfume to go along with it. Your fellow agents had provided you with the little outfit, the platformed heels a practical joke more than anything. You’d get them back for this, sooner or later. Three honks outside your building let you know they were here. You scurried for your purse, making your way outside on the torturous shoes. Peña lifted his hand on the steering wheel, greeting you. You got in next to him, sliding into the passenger seat.
“Feistl and Ness not coming anymore?”, you asked, gesturing towards the empty backseat.
He turned his head towards you, sighing deeply. “Get back inside.”
“Mission’s off?”, you frowned, sounding more confused than ever.
He raked his eyes over your body, shaking his head in disapproval. “You’re not going out dressed like that.”
You scoffed at him, turning your body in his direction. “Excuse me? Your men picked this out for me. This is the dress code.”
“Right, you’re just asking for it dressed like that”, he groaned, averting his eyes.
“I’m just gonna pretend like you didn’t just say that”, you laughed, leaning your elbow against the window, “Just drive, yeah? I want to get this over with just as much as you do.”
He started the engine, giving you a quick glare. “Fine. But I’m sticking around. I’ll park a street or two away and need you back in an hour, if not I’ll come looking for you myself.”
“Whatever, just let me do my job. We could use some new leads, can’t let them get away much longer”, you reasoned.
“Leads mean nothing if you’re dead”, he replied coldly. “I-I just want- need you to be safe.”
You smiled a little to yourself, giving him a nod. “I try my best, boss.”
“Javi, call me Javi. We’re not at the office”, he insisted, tilting his head at you.
“Well Javi, looks like this is my stop”, you smiled, reaching for the door handle.
He grabbed a hold of you other wrist, making you whip your head around. “Please – whatever happens, don’t leave the party, don’t even leave the dancefloor. If at any point you feel unsafe or uneasy, come back, no one will hold it against you.”
“I promise you.. I’m okay. I’ve done it before, chat some, dance some, flirt a little bit, get them drunk enough… I’ll be fine.”
He was reluctant to let go of you, resisting the urge to just drive off with you. It was your job, you were trained to deal with these kinds of people. He was probably just overreacting, being overly protective over one of his agents. Except that he never felt this way with the guys. Surely he was seeing things, surely there wasn’t any depth to your kind words and special attentions. Surely you wouldn’t even consider him for a fuck, with the obvious age-gap and all. Not only that, he was well-aware of the way he was so out of shape, the start of a beer gut becoming more and more obvious. He wasn’t the womanizer he once was, but there was just something about you, some magical, gravitational pull that had him breathing heavy when you were close.
“Javi.. I need you to let go”, you repeated for the third time, finally pulling him from his thoughts.
Shit – that was embarrassing. He quickly pulled away, nodding at you. “Good luck.”
You left with another smile, waving to him as you rounded the corner. He let out a breath, softly banging his head against the car-seat headrest. His fingers strained against the cool leather of the steering wheel, teeth gnashing as he tried to keep himself from running after you. You were a big girl, he told himself over and over, you could handle yourself.
The partly was bustling with people, drinks and cocaine flowing freely. You headed for the bar, grabbing a shot of tequila as you scanned the dancefloor for any possible leads. Along the way you’d spotted Daniel, grinding with some girl. At least he was enjoying himself. Chris was off to the side, talking and laughing with some unfamiliar men. It was then you spotted one Gilberto’s wives. An unexpected turn of events to say the least. She caught your eye just as you were looking at her, and gave a saccharine smile, moving to walk over to you.
“Entonces, viniste solo, o..”, she asked, purring into your ear. (So did you come alone, or..)
“Sí, ¿estoy haciendo algo mal?”, you questioned, purposely raising the pitch in your voice to feign innocence. (Yes, did I do something wrong?)
She let out a soft laugh, placing a hand on your shoulder as she leaned in closer. “Me gustaría que conocieras a alguien.” (I’d like for you to meet someone.)
It’s not like you had much of a choice anyway, her tone and grip on your wrist saying as much. You smiled back at her, nodding your head. She lead you into the bar, taking you into one of the backrooms. In passing you’d spotted the Rodriguez brothers in a small room, talking about something you couldn’t quite understand. She gestured for you to stay there, in the middle of the hallway as she disappeared into the nearest room. The stench of sweat and sex hit you hard, making you shiver against the wall. A young girl stumbled out of the room, face stained with black streaks and the straps on her dress torn apart. You gulped a bit, this being much more intense than what you were used to. It was then the wife remerged, leading you into the room. You had to keep your mouth from falling open, David Rodriguez, the big boss’ son sitting there, half-naked, smirking up at you.
“Gracias mamá”, he cooed, pointing the other woman to the door.
He stood up, buckling his belt and zipping his slacks up before stalking over to you. He hummed lowly as his hand traced the cut-outs in your dress, leaning in to press his lips against your shoulder.
“Muy hermosa.. Dime dulzura, ¿te gusta bailar?”, he inquired, raking his fingers through your hair. (Very pretty.. Tell me sweetheart, do you like dancing?)
“En ocasiones”, you muttered, scanning the room for possible escape routes. (Sometimes.)
He stroked a thumb over your lips, grabbing a hold of your hand. “Vamos a bailar, entonces.” (Let’s go dancing then.)
Apparently both your partners had taken note of your absence, shooting you worried looks and glances as you returned to the actual party. You gave them both a subtle nod, assuring them you were okay and unharmed.
Back in the car Javier was a mess, having received a phone call from Chris, informing him you were taking into the building. He was about to go in himself when Chris called back, letting him know you’d come back, seemingly unscathed. It was what he said next that set Javier’s rage aflame, Rodriguez’ son was all over you. Feistl spared him no detail, describing how he had his hands all over you, mouth pressed to your neck occasionally.
“If anything so much as goes remotely wrong, if she looks scared, uncomfortable, whatever, you call me”, he growled into the phone. “And do not let her go into that building again.”
You felt disgusting, feeling the way his hands roamed over your body, squeezing at your breasts and bottom, not shy whatsoever. It was hard not to shove him off of you and beat his ass right then and there. You had to remind yourself it was for the greater good, trying to picture it was someone – anyone – else, to no avail. He swiftly spun you around, having you face him and he leaned in to press his wet mouth against yours. That was a bridge too far, even for you, and in a moment of pure disgust you shoved him off of you, slapping him right across the face. As soon as it happened you regretted it, clasping a hand over your own mouth, lifting it to mutter out a string of apologies.
“Puta”, he snarled, making all the heads around you turn in your direction.
You looked around you, trying to find someone, something to help you. He roughly tugged on the fabric of your dress, resulting in some of the cut-outs ripping even further. Luckily for you, you were in the middle of the crowd, meaning you wouldn’t get your brains blown out right then and there and as soon as David lifted his gaze to see all the partygoers stare at him, he let go of you. You seized the opportunity to disappear into the crowd, sprinting for the exit, with a heart thumping in your throat. Soon you heard the heavy thuds of someone else’s footsteps behind you, making you run even faster. Except that in these fucking heels, it was nearly impossible to make any decent distance whatsoever. One of them broke, sending you gliding over the asphalt, skin painfully dragging over the course ground. It was then you looked over your shoulder, expecting to get shot, only to be met with Javier’s brown eyes.
“Don’t say anything, just walk with me”, he instructed, helping you off the floor and wrapping an arm around you.
The adrenaline kept you on your feet, the pain not yet settled in. There was some blood running down your bare legs and forearms, a scared look etched on your face. He helped you into the car, taking off his jacket before putting it over your torso. When he was a good amount of blocks away he turned to look at you.
“I’m driving back to my place, can’t let them know where you live. We’ll take care of you there.”
He kept his eyes on the road, for fear that he might never look away again if he even so much glanced in your direction. He noticed your discomfort, the jackets strategically covering the new rips and tears in your skin tight dress. The urge to just pull over and hold you, comfort you, tell you – assure you that you’d be okay grew bigger by the second. And by the time he was parking the car, his hands were shaking, shaking with anxiety. You both hadn’t said a word and silences were uncharacteristic for you, hence the worry – or well, increase thereof.
The walk up to his apartment was painful, the adrenaline wearing off and the agony setting in. He noticed the way you pursed your lips with every step, carefully offering you his arm. You thanked him, holding onto his tan forearm. He managed a small smile, heartbeat skyrocketing as he noticed how gentle and warm your grip was.
As soon as you two were safely in the apartment with the door triple locked, he sat you down on the couch, disappearing into the bathroom to gather anything useful he could find. The bleeding had stopped by now, but it was a sight to behold. Your arms and legs were stained with blood and dirt, the cuts on your kneecaps stinging with the slightest movement.
He was tender and cautious, checking in if you so much as winced. The disinfectant stung like hell and had you biting the inside of your own cheek. You cursed the tears as they pricked in your eyes. You closed your eyes, flinching slightly when you felt a hand cupping your face.
“I’ll get you something to eat, to settle your stomach”, Javier whispered, slowly getting up.
You quickly grabbed a hold of the hand on your face, looking up at him with glossy eyes. “ P-please don’t leave.”
He felt his knees buckle the tiniest bit at that. You sounded so small, scared, insecure – so unlike yourself.
“I’m right here, you’re safe with me”, he ushered, taking both your hands in his as he knelt down once again. “Tell me what you need..”
“I-I want to get out of this dress, please”, you begged, tears threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes.
He gave half a smile, softly pressing his lips to your knuckles. “We can manage that, I can draw you a bath as well if you want.. I mean I assume you’d prefer to stay here tonight?”
You nodded slowly, sniffling a little as you went to stand. “Thank you Javi.”
After finally having convinced you that you could safely take a bath on your own and that he’d be waiting just outside in the kitchen you finally got undressed. You felt gross, borderline disgusting and wanted nothing more than to scrub the feelings of those hands off of your body. But no matter how many times you dragged the washcloth over your skin, the feeling seemed to linger and you felt the bile rising in your throat again. It had been too close of a call, you were lucky to even be alive tonight, sicarios usually not afraid to cause a scene.
Outside the door Javier was pacing, some frozen lasagne thrown in the oven. How could those two morons let you slip out of sight? Hadn’t he been clear in his instructions? Hadn’t he stressed how important it was for you to stay out in public? He’d have a go at them later, for now he just wanted to make sure you were okay. The muted sobs spilling from the bathroom didn’t help him either, wanting nothing more than to barge in to check up on you, but he was too afraid to overstep.
You eventually managed to muster up the courage, getting dressed in one of your boss’ shirts and a pair of his boxers, since they were the only thing he had that wouldn’t cover your knees, allowing the scrapes and cuts to air out. You’d have to see a doctor more than likely, the pain in your joints more present now that the initial shock was somewhat settled down. With gnashing teeth you walked out into the living room, Javier’s head immediately whipping around.
“I’ve got some food in the oven for later..”, he mumbled, gesturing towards the kitchen. “I made the bed as well, so you can just crash whenever you’d like.”
“Javi – thank you so much, I-I don’t know what I would’ve done without you there”, you managed to get out before your legs started shaking.
He immediately rushed over, scooping you up in his arms. “Let’s get you a seat, yeah?”
He softly sat you down on the couch, hissing as he accidentally grazed the angry red skin on your legs. “It’s okay – you didn’t hurt me”, you reassured him.
“I should’ve never let you go in there, it was a stupid fucking idea”, he chastised himself, rubbing the skin between his brows.
You sat up straight, putting a hesitant hand on his cheek. “Javier, you did what you thought was right. Everyone made it out and everyone’s safe, you called the right shots out there tonight.”
He looked into your eyes, sighing deeply, softly shaking his head. “Stop this.”
You gave a confused look, readjusting yourself, coming a bit closer in the process. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, no. That’s just fucking it – you’re so perfect it hurts”, he murmured, briefly glancing down at your bottom lip.
That took you by surprise, making you chuckle a little. “What?”
“I don’t ever want to see you hurt like this again. I-I was so worried about you and fucking angry that I let you go in there all by yourself. It should’ve been me in there, or at least me by your side. I mean fuck – when I saw you stumbling out of there cariño – my heart nearly stopped”, he rambled once again taking a hold of your hands.
You were baffled at his words, confused at the sudden outing of care and worry. “Javi, I’m a DEA agent, this is what we’re here for.”
“Not to me”, he sighed, averting his eyes from your own. “You’re so special. So humble and kind- smart not to mention and… and so fucking gorgeous.”
It was practically impossible for your eyes to open even wider, the shock on your face more than obvious. “Javier, I-I don’t know what to say”, you admitted quietly.
He only now realised the impact of he what he’d been saying. Surely your boss coming onto you was the last thing you’d wanted, considering what you went through earlier on. “Fuck, shit – I didn’t mean to dump that on you, especially not like this I-“
“It’s okay”, you reassured him. “That lasagne should be done by now right?”
You knew fully well that the damn food was the last thing on your mind but you couldn’t help but overthink the entire situation. Surely your boss, one of the hottest men at the office, wouldn’t feel that way about you? Exactly, it had to have been the adrenaline of it all – or that bloody fucking dress. Whatever it was, you decided to repress that fluttery feeling in your gut and tried to remember what you were truly dealing with here: a boss looking out for his agents.
The rest of the night was spent in a comfortable silence. You decided to just go to bed already, your head spinning. What he’d told you wasn’t lost on you, in fact, it kept you up. You were laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling as you bit your lip. The range of emotions you were experiencing was overwhelming at it was hard to keep the waterworks contained at times.
Eventually, somewhere in the AM’s you managed to fall asleep. But even then you were plagued by your own mind. You felt those hands all over your body again and that slick, slobbery tongue on your neck. You punched him again, as you did before, but only now he pulled out a gun and shot you square in the chest. Clutching at that gushing wound, you sank to your knees, locking eyes with Javier. He rushed over holding you in his arms, shaking your lifeless form as your body went limp.
You sat upright immediately, arms flailing around you, knocking over the glass and clock that stood on the bedside table. The sounds of the shattering rung in your ears, pulling you back from your own head, making you aware of your surroundings. You were alive and more importantly you were safe. As the door swung open you let out a yelp, covering your face with your arms, still panting from your nightmare.
“Shit – are you okay?”, Javier asked, taking note of the broken glass next to the bed.
The familiar sound of his voice sent you over the edge and the tears that you’d been struggling to hold back all night finally got the upper hand over you. As you gasped for hair he quickly threw the nearest blanket atop the shards, deciding he’d deal with it later. He crawled into the bed and you practically threw yourself into his arms. He cradled you against his chest, closing his eyes as he felt you tremble all over.
“I’ve got you sweetheart, I’m right here”, he soothed you, intertwining the fingers on his free hand with your hair, slowly but surely grounding you.
There was something about the way his arms wrapped around you that made you feel safe. Something about the way your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck that made you feel like you were destined to end up here, in his bed, pressed up against him.
With tear-stained cheeks and glossy eyes you looked up at him, hands fisted in his threadbare t-shirt. “Did you mean it? What you said?”, you croaked out, voice pitchy with emotion.
“Every word”, he confirmed, softly swiping the tears away with his thumb.
You sat upright a bit more, leaning into him as did he until finally your lips bumped into one another’s. The both of you sighed, pulling away after only a few seconds, not looking for anything more in that moment.
“Please just hold me for tonight”, you whispered, resting your forehead against his.
He gently laid down, taking you with him. “I don’t think I’ll ever let go again.”
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Like a fool (pt.1)
pairing: teacher!jungkook x cafe owner!reader
word count: 2k
genre: fluff, smut, ex lovers au
warnings: sexual content, slight dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected sex (stay safe loves!)
synopsis: Everyone in the neighborhood knows you and Jungkook will inevitably end up in a wedlock despite the complicated status of your on-and-off relationship. While you want to keep a civil relationship with him, Jungkook learned not to care about labels long ago since the first time you two broke up. Whatever you’d say, he intends to keep his place in your heart taken for the rest of your life.
~~~
“Your beau is here,” Jimin prompted behind you.
Without turning in his direction, your attention to the carrot cake remaining glued to the carrot cake you were currently frosting about.
At this point, you wouldn’t even be surprised to see Jungkook on the opposite side of your bed in the morning. He seems to find it amusing to see you evidently pissed whenever he’s around. How couldn’t you? He not only takes over Jimin’s job but he often causes a scene with the customers in the cafe—which, to fuel more of your unspoken frustration, are students from the nearby community college.
You couldn’t admit how the attention he was getting from people of different gender identities still bothers you despite the mutual decision to call the engagement off. You understand your ex-fiance is a very attractive man. And his charisma could probably stir attraction from married women regardless of their age.
Over the course of six years of a complicated relationship with him, you two had already been in two break ups in college, citing his laid back self in college and your endless insecurities that urged you to try to get away from him, from the spell he had on you.
While you decided to pursue your dream to start your own cafe business post-graduation, Jungkook surprisingly landed on a teaching job in Jung-do High School which is also located in the same neighborhood two years ago.
Footsteps are, again, back in the kitchen. “He just wore an apron. So I’m guessing he’s here until the shop closes.” It was Jimin, informing you yet again as if it was part of his job to report Jungkook’s every move to you.
This time, you sweep a brief glance behind. “Don’t let the counter vacant, Chim.” You say, cleaning up the cake board as a finishing touch to your masterpiece.
“He took over the counter, _____. How am I supposed to make him go away when he’s our own human advertisement. He’s attracting more customers!”
With a glare darted to his direction, you suggest, “Then I guess I should replace you with him, instead?”
Jimin visibly sulked, not really wanting to argue with you—his boss. “Fine!”
Six months. That’s how long you’ve been single since. Sure he had you wrapped around his fingers back then. But you wanted to prove to him and to yourself that you can live without him. However, it’s too impossible to keep up with it when he freely deems himself welcome wherever you are, maintaining his act of indifference toward the real score between you.
Intending to place the cake in the display, you finally went out of the kitchen-- ironically, just in time to run into him. Jungkook being the shameless ex-boyfriend that he is, took the cake in your hands.
He was wearing a gym class outfit— a pair of black adidas sweatpants, and a plain, white shirt over a black hoodie. If only you were not trying to stay as far as possible away from him, you’ll probably tease him about his own dress code. He doesn’t look like he just got out of his class as the teacher. He looked like he just went out of bed before he came here.
“Aren’t you supposed to be home?” You ask from behind him.
“I’m bored,” he simply replied.
“What do you mean you’re bored? Haven’t you just got off work?”
He spun around, startling you when you came face to face with him. If you couldn’t properly see his entire face before, you do now much to your annoyance.
He sighs. “I did. Look, I’m just helping Jimin-hyung out here. I won’t bother you, I swear.”
“You don’t have to because you’re not my employee, Kook.”
“Well, I could use some part time if you’re hiring.” Jungkook shrugs.
Here we go, again.
Your eyes narrowed to which roused him to raise his hands up defensively.
“Jagiya—”
“Lovebirds,” Jimin suddenly interrupts.
“What?!” You both snapped back at Jimin’s direction.
“Whoa, tone it down— you two. Restroom is right there in case you need to release the sexual tension. It’s getting intense out here.” He jests, making a shooing motions with his hands.
Jungkook wasted no more time and took it as his cue to grab your wrist, dragging you with him as he navigated the way past the kitchen into the storage room.
A temporary relief washes through you when Jungkook brought you in this enclosed, rather safe space instead of the restroom. However, dread slowly consumes your whole being when you hear the familiar sound of the knob locking.
Jungkook pivoted back, facing you. “Let’s talk here.”
Your eyes lingered down where his hand maintained his grasp around your wrist. “Why? There’s nothing else to talk about.”
“For the umpteenth time, I saw the landlord across the street like he was waiting for someone,”
You look up, quirking up an eyebrow at his sudden shot of a subject relating to Seokjin. “What’s your point?”
“I don’t trust him.” He deduces, childishly.
“What do you want me to do, find another leasing property? This shouldn’t concern you in the first place. You never once heard anything from me about Joohyun.” You mentally cursed, unable to stop yourself from mentioning the name of the woman he was seen in a restaurant a week ago.
“What’s Joohyun got anything to do with this?”
You scoff. “You know what, I don’t need to answer that. We’re not together anymore so it’s none of my business.”
Jungkook seized your attempt to leave, latching onto your arm just in time. As he pulls you back, you were met with the subtle amusement plastered obnoxiously on his face.
“We’re not done here, baby. So... Joohyun, really? My colleague?” A laugh slips out of him, seemingly pleased. You, on the other hand, felt insulted on his take of your serious remark. Your blood started rising up. So the rumors aren’t true?
You jerked away. Well... tried to, because your hand stayed locked around his firm grip. “Let me go, I need to go back to the kitchen.”
You stepped back when he abruptly inched forward. You were puzzled for a second, but when your back touched the surface of the door, you knew you fell from his trap as he steadied himself with his palms pressed flat above your head. You turned your face away, avoiding his heated gaze. But the gesture only gave Jungkook a room to nestle his head on the exposed skin of your neck.
The moment you felt his warm lips touch your skin, you squeezed your eyes shut. “You’ve been pretty good at keeping a safe distance from me, baby. You have no idea how much I fucking miss you, missed keeping you all to myself like this.” He expresses in a thick, sultry tone.
You shake your head, knowing full well what he meant. “We c-cant, Jimin is--”
“--not here.” He finishes, pressing his lower body against yours and teasing your sweet spot with a gentle suck. The bulge on his mid-region was enough to make your panties wet instantaneously and your body heats up too quickly.
“Jungkook,” his name slips out of your mouth.
“Please tell me you’re still in birth control.” He desperately murmurs against your skin on the curve of your neck.
You frantically bobbed your head, lost at the hot trail of kisses he’s leaving on your skin.
With an eager pull of the strings on his nape and back, he rids the apron off of his front followed by a swift pull of his sweatpants with his boxers, just enough to release his hard member.
Your mouth instantaneously watered at the sight of the maddeningly pink head and aroused length, thick and hard just the way you remembered it the last time Jungkook fucked you. It happened in his car three months ago. You were too intoxicated then to control yourself from jumping up into his lap as he drove you back to your apartment. To keep your pride intact, you tried to steer clear from repeating the same mistake again. Not when you’re not officially back together.
Right now, you’re too sexually neglected to care about anything.
“I want you in my mouth,” you beg, not believing you sounded incredibly hasty than you actually have estimated.
He swats your hand off when he sensed your hand extending towards his crotch, “I’d love to fuck your mouth baby, but we don’t have that much time. I need to be inside your pussy,” You felt his palms scooping you up through your butt, sandwiching you between his body and the door. Your legs automatically weaving around his hips to steady yourself.
Then pushes your underwear aside, “This is probably the only reason why I love you wearing skirts. Easy access—fuck baby, so tight.” He barely sank his cock in, yet you could already feel the sting of your walls as they stretch around him.
Your hand flew to the back of head, eager to bury your fingers beneath his curly locks.
Just as you part your mouth to speak to encourage more his entrance, he suddenly propels his hips forward, pushing his dick to the hilt which roused a cry from you.
“Fucking tight! I’m gonna break you so much you won’t ever forget about me. You understand, darling?”
“Yes, yes, please fuck me!” You cried out, reeling from both the sting of your muscles caused by his forceful entrance, and the familiar warmth filling you full.
Without bothering to warm you up, he began a breathtaking pace despite his overwhelming intrusion. You didn’t mind, though. In fact, his thrusts were making your moans irrepressible and your thighs tremble in delight.
Jungkook places his head between the valleys of your covered mounds, not missing his faint grunts, lost in his own pleasure.
“You like that, huh? You like the idea of being fucked outside, baby girl? I’ve had enough this bullshit,” He growls with a series of rough jerk of his hips, forcing a cry of his name out of you.
“That’s right, moan my name. Just wait until I get you all alone tonight, I’ll make sure you won’t ever think of breaking up with me. Do you hear me?” He warns darkly, emphasizing the severity of his threat with a shove of his dick so deep his tip was heavenly kissing your precious spot from your insides.
“Oh god,” you lamented, deliriously.
You could already feel the building up in your abdomen just as fast as he started rocking into you. You’ve known him long enough for you to easily sense it was the same for him too, concealing his moans with his mouth latched onto your prickly skin.
“That’s right. Come for me!” he grunted in between powerful thrusts.
His command did the trick, sending your body forward as you exploded, your walls tighten around him with each snap of his hips against your pelvis. Soon enough, he jerked off his load inside you with a growl rumbling on his chest.
Grimace creases on your expression as he cautiously pulls his cock out, following his load combined with your juices gushing out of your pussy down to the insides of your thighs.
Barely recovered from the earth shattering orgasm you had for the first time in three months, you heard a series of banging coming from the other side of the door.
“You done, lovebirds?” Your eyes clenched shut in realization, quietly plotting the assassination of some guy named Jimin.
“Thanks for ruining the moment,” Jungkook retorts back.
“Not a problem. You guys seriously need to get the fuck out, I ran out of beans in the jar and try not fuck each other here next time, yeah?”
Amused with the scene unfolding, Jungkook casually pushes your underwear back to its place, smoothening your skirt down as if nothing inappropriate had occurred here. He kisses the tip of your nose, before turning the knob of the door.
Couldn’t this get any more embarrassing?
~~~
Thank you for reading and apologies for any spelling/ grammatical errors. I havent edited this yet. Part 2 will most likely be posted on Monday or Tuesday :)
#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts imagines
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A Distant Dream I // Luke Patterson
Summary: In 1994 seventeen year old Luke Patterson had once again tried to ask out the girl that held his heart. With the belief he would see the younger Mercer girl the next morning he decides wait to confess his feelings. Only to have soft music bewitched the reader into an antique wardrobe with lots of history.
Warnings: Swearing, strict parents, missing persons, cops, violence, death, and angst
Words: 3k
A/N: Finished one series, starts a new one then gets hit with a dream of a crossover with Narnia and JATP. My brain needs to stop.
TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!
Masterlist
Patterson Home, 1994
The teen’s hands laced up her boots with her mind stuck on the successful dinner with the boy situated on the couch. His eyes lost in daydreams of the girl he had shared a sweet goodbye with, seeing her at school felt like it would be years. Luke Patterson was slowly building up to ask out the girl of his dreams.
You glanced over at the messy-haired brunette you had known for years through your older brother Alex. A year separated you from Luke and Alex, but it didn't matter to the bond you had with them.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Reggie’s picking us up.” You waved at the seventeen-year-old teenager cupping his cheek in one hand.
Unable to stay seated Luke rushed to tug you into an abrupt hug before just as quickly letting you go. Cheeks dusted pink Luke’s lips parted to form the words that could make one of his dreams come true.
"Would you…" Luke trailed off, feeling the confidence falter at the hopeful look in your pretty eyes, "Tell Alex that he still has that movie?"
The hope in your chest fluttered before it shuddered once more as Luke retreated from asking his question. With a nod, your fingers opened the door to walk down the streets to own home.
With one last wave Luke watched as you disappeared behind the trees in his front yard with the promise he’d ask her out tomorrow.
That chance wouldn’t happen.
That hopeful night in 1994 was the last night Y/N Mercer was seen. The night that it all started to fall apart in Sunset Curve’s lives.
The sword was thrust in the air as victorious cheers sounded over the hillside filled with the war's casualties. Chest heaving from the fight she had won against one of the Boggles in the White Witch's army. Your eyes scoured the battlefield for your friends you had made in the short time you had been in Narnia.
Across a great distance, you found Peter already beaming across at you as the adrenaline of winning overtook you. The happiness wavered when you saw the prone body of Edmund in the grass.
“No!” You shouted racing in the armour to the three remaining Pevensie children gathering around the youngest male sibling. The breath leaving Edmund’s body in the presence of his siblings he had made up with.
Let’s go back a few weeks to when your most significant issue had been the feelings for Luke Patterson. To when your decisions didn't include making battle plans with your new friends and avenging the death of Aslan; the talking lion.
Moments after leaving Luke’s place.
There was something about the night that soothed you from the disappointment in your body as being let down. Alex had been telling you for so long that Luke had feelings for you, but every-time you believed him it didn’t happen.
Once more, you had left the Patterson home with knowing if Luke liked you or not. Continuing to walk, you halted at hearing something. Soft music so unlike what you heard blasting from Alex's room or the gigs you attended to support the band. It was reminiscent of the music box that used to put you to sleep as a child.
"Hello?" You asked, shifting the beanie that slid on down your forehead a little. Your eyes peering around the silent streets.
The music grew louder as it entranced you into following the sound to a dilapidated building situated near older stores. So taken by the music you didn’t question why the door to the store was unlocked nor how a golden light shined from one of the antique wooden furniture.
“Come along.” A voice whispered from inside the imposing wardrobe.
Your fingers shook as you slowly pulled the door open with a creak that blasted around the darkroom. The first thing you noticed was the old fur coats hanging in the small wardrobe. The door closed behind you with a click, the golden glow dying as any suggestion she had been in the store disappeared.
The breath caught in your throat as the temperature dropped and somehow you found snow inside and trees. The crunch of snow beneath your boots surprising you but not as much as your hands pushed the branches away. Vision no longer obstructed you discovered a new world of winter and sunlight.
Standing not too far away you found four bodies of varying height staring around in wonder just as you had. The group turned on their heels at the sound of your boots crunching the snow.
The tallest of the group had honey blonde hair neatly cut and styled off his pale forehead revealing a startling pair of blue eyes. He was at least six feet tall as your estimation. His own widened at the sight of you before you took in the three other people with him—an older brunette girl standing over a younger brunette female. Set a small distance away was a young teenage boy appearing standoffish.
“I don’t suppose that is another one of your friends, Lucy?" The teen asked glancing down at the youngest of the quartet.
"No, but Peter maybe she's friends with Mr. Tumnus!" The little girl exclaimed already making her way to you when the other girl stopped her.
The next thing you noticed was their odd choice in clothing, the older boy Peter wore a light grey button-down with his dark slacks held up by suspenders. Not a single piece of clothing you recognized on people in your life.
“Lucy, she’s a stranger in a strange place.”
“This is Narnia.” Lucy stressed pouting, “Susan, it’s not polite.”
Susan's hand loosened at the reminder of manners, but with that, Susan pushed her little sister behind her. Peter stepped in front of his family to walk over to you.
"Hello, are you from around here?" Peter asked, coming closer, "I'm Peter Pevensie. This is my younger sisters Lucy and Susan. The boy over there is my little brother Edmund.”
The scowl on Edmund’s face twister further, “I’m not your little brother! I’m thirteen. Lucy’s the baby!”
“Edmund!” Susan admonished with a furrowed brow before stepping up with Peter, "What is this place?"
"Look, lady. I was walking home from my friend's place and heard this music. It's a little foggy, but I followed into an antique store." You spoke glancing at the winter wonderland that made you question if you had taken drugs.
“You’re American!” Lucy gasped rushing closer, “Why did you come to England? It’s it safer from the war in America?”
You stepped back in confusion, “I’m Y/N. War? In England? When did that happen?”
All four of the Pevensie’s stumbled back in shock at hearing that someone of your age being unaware. Susan finally took the time to take in your appearance a stark contrast to the modest, loose red and green tartan knee-length skirt. Instead, you wore a mid-thigh red plaid skirt over sheer black tights, but the most scandalous part of your outfit for Susan was your high neck black top that revealed your midriff.
“Are you daft?” Edmund questioned, stepping closer, his dark eyes pinning his angst on you, "We got evacuated from London because of it!”
Your eyebrows raised in response to the very posh accent berating you even as he was shoved back by Peter.
“You really haven’t heard about it?” Susan asked, confusing you further, but slowly it came together in your mind.
As a Mercer, you had expectations placed upon your shoulders to keep your family’s reputation in place. One of the expectations was academic excellence for your parents to boast about among their friends. To get them off your back, you studied hard with Alex in order to get away with the way you dressed and Alex being in a rock band.
Your eyes scanned the individuals' outfits before you while calculating the years London, England, was evacuated by war. A faint memory of sitting in your history class sparked on the action to evacuate mostly children. Operation Pied Piper. World War II.
"Can we go to Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy inquired, bringing her older siblings' attention to her shivering in the cool air.
“But we can’t go hiking in the snow dressed like this! Let alone Y/N in her clothing.” Susan protested also rubbing her cold arms. Peter simply strode back into the wardrobe, grabbing an armful of the coats still hanging in there.
“No, but I’m sure the professor won’t mind us using these.” Peter spoke, handing out a coat first to his siblings before turning to face you with a smile, "Would like you to join us?"
Your eyes turned to the tree hiding the door of the wardrobe to the place you knew. To return to the Mercer household where it felt stifling under the watchful eye of your parents. To a house that judged you for your dreams that went further than your parents' plans. To a boy that threatened to cradle your heart or shattered it to pieces with only a few words.
"I'd love to join you." You spoke sealing your fate by grasping a coat, but Peter stepped around to help you put it on.
The feel of his hands pushing the collar further rose a dust pink blush on your cheeks at the care he displayed. His blue gaze held firmly with yours before he shook it off with a throat cleared.
“Anyway Susan, if you think about it logically, we’re not even taking them out of the wardrobe.” Peter finished shoving the very last coat to Edmund to draw out the young boy’s discomfort.
"But that's a girl's coat!" Edmund whined offended at the fur pushed into his torso. His offended feeling rising at Peter's confirmation that he knew that too.
A cheeky smile expanded at the interaction that reminded you of Christmas mornings with Alex on who got to open the first gift. The sibling fighting that was never really as vicious as they felt like at the moment.
“To Mr. Tumnus’!” Lucy exclaimed skipping ahead of the group with Edmund trailing behind.
The Mercer home, 1994
Luke woke up with a feeling that last night had been his last chance to admit his feelings for his best friend’s sister. It felt like something had drastically changed from the previous smile he saw from you before you turned that corner. He made himself a promise he wouldn't break to shout his love from the rooftops just for you.
He couldn't wait for Reggie to pick him up, so he quickly grabbed his backpack to race out the front door. His plate barely in the sink before he was racing down the streets to Alex and your place. The grin of excitement faltered at the sight of a police car parked at the Mercer house's curb.
Mrs. Mercer sobbing in her husband's neck as a forlorn man, held his hat in his hands as he continued speaking. Luke's world lost colour for a split second before he found the blonde drummer collapsed on his knees, clutching his hair in his hands.
Then the colour leeched from Luke’s life as the once thought impossible happened.
"Alex, what's going on?"
“You!" Mrs. Mercer shouted, hearing the voice of the teenager that had taken something from the woman, "What did you do to her!”
Luke stumbled back at the heated glare from the mess of a woman so unlike the posh made-up woman. Alex was quick to push by his parents to stand shakily next to his best friend with splotchy red skin and swollen eyes.
"Luke didn't do anything! I saw her on the way home when I went to dropped that movie off at Luke's place." Alex smoothly lied to his parents saving Luke the exhaustion of a police station, and it would be the one lie that would go to their graves with them.
“My baby.” Mrs. Mercer screamed hands digging into the perfectly mowed green grass uncaring of the stains on her once immaculate elegant pearl satin slacks.
Turning robotic Alex ushered Luke down the street to the Wilson home they had turned into the band centre. Luke followed like a puppy into the open garage where Alex promptly collapsed into a fit of sobs and heavy breathing.
"She's gone." Alex cried, leaning into the sudden body hugging him with soft whispers in his ear, "Luke, Y/N didn't come home last night. None of her friends have seen her. My little sister’s missing!”
And just like that the world no longer made sense to the seventeen-year-old guitarist. The next year dragged by with running away from home. When Luke wasn’t writing music or sleeping in the studio, he was on the streets.
Clutching his favourite picture of you as he walked the streets asking if anyone had seen you while avoiding his own missing person’s poster.
Cair Paravel, Narnia
The sun rose over the land you had come to love and protect for as long as you could remember. Sometimes you hoped you’d see Aslan in the distance, but he had been gone ever since the coronation. The feeling of missing him shifted to something, no someone else you missed. It felt like a dream, and when the dream started to become clear, a hand brushed against your hip.
"Hello, darling," Peter spoke brushing a kiss on your cheek before his silky hair shifted on your skin to rest atop your own head.
A soft smile overcoming your features as his ring clinked against your own and you turned in your private chambers to stare up at him. Your hand brushing the stubble that had grown. Your eyes taking in his tanned skin from riding in the sun. For a second you swore his blue eyes flickered to hazel green.
Sometimes when you slept, you dreamt of a time where everything was different from what you knew here. Of a time when your heart fluttered for a man with hazel green eyes and a curtain of messy dark brunette hair.
“Are you alright?” Peter questioned leaning back to scan your features. It wasn't often, but he was sure you wandered off in mind.
“I’m feeling perfect.” You replied turning to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “I’m standing the arms of my King-“
“You looked beautiful tonight.” For a second, your personal bed-chamber melted away into a large room with poorly made decorations and lines on the floor of different colours. Instead of standing in Peter's arms, you found yourself moving to the music in another's arms. The same faceless person in your dreams.
"Maybe it's time we give Narnia an heir." With Peter's words, the world returned to the way it had left a bitter taste in your mouth, "What do you think of the name Luke?"
The name choked you with emotion.
Alex jogged into his sister's room, huddled over her white desk reciting information of her exam the next morning. His blue eyes lit up as he hurried to your side.
"What do you want, Alex?" You sighed turning to look at your brother with disinterest only wanting to ace this test. That way, your parents could rub in in their friends face on beating Sarah with the highest grade.
“I joined the band.” Alex beamed bringing your attention fully on him in surprise, “I’m tired of pretending to like classical music and wearing a suit that chokes me. I’m tired of having to play dress up in fancy clothes when what I want is that big pink sweater from that thrift shop. I’m tired of looking like they think a Mercer should look like. I wanna look like Alex, like myself.”
Your lips turned up at the passion ignited in Alex at the mention of three friends that had quickly become family. In welcoming Alex, they had welcomed you into the group as well. Luke being the closest friend you had that didn't care what you wore or what you said.
"You should come. You've never stayed to listen to them rehearse. Luke would love it if you came." Alex teased poking your side in the pale pink silk blouse and white knee-length skirt.
You were tired of pretending as well. You wanted to be the girl wearing a band shirt and ripped jeans. You want to wear what you wanted instead of what your parents expected. Instead of voicing a reply, you moved to the walk-in closet of designer clothing. At the very back hidden from sight was your chosen attire. In seconds you changed into one of Alex’s old band shirts tied in the back for a cropped shirt and your favourite pants.
A swipe of rebellious red lipstick to finish the look you followed Alex to his room with the large tree. You had no clue if the feeling of butterflies was from rebelling against your parents or seeing the teenage boy slowly stealing your heart.
“Not Luke.” You whispered to the man you had matured from an angsty sixteen-year-old to a twenty-five-year-old.
“Lucy may think we named him after her.” Peter joked retreating as the door to the chambers was knocked on, “I believe we owe Edmund a birthday feast.”
“I’d rather not live another year of his complaining.” You moaned lifting the skirt of your long midnight blue dress to exit the room. All thoughts of a former life disappearing like smoke once more.
King Peter and Queen Y/N took their time to the dining hall where the rest of their family was patiently waiting. Susan and Lucy sharing a smile at the topic that had been flooding the kingdom since the royal wedding two years ago. Narnia was wondering when High King Peter and his Queen would proudly show off their firstborn.
"About time. I thought we'd enter another hundred years before you two came." Edmund spoke from his chair, but instead of the same tone as the boy that first entered Narnia, it was teasing.
"Shove off and eat your cake." Peter laughed, keeping his hand encased in yours. All of them at ease with the only worry on the conflict that threatened the royals from the Ettinsmoor nation.
Part Two
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#luke patterson imagines#luke patterson x reader#peter pevensie imagines#narnia#jatp fanfic#julie and the phantoms imagines#charlie gillespie imagines#luke patterson#narnia imagines#peter pevensie#caitsy and ash productions
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