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kyber-crystal · 5 months ago

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10 things i hate about you || f.w.

summary: rumor has it that you and fred weasley are going out. being the instigators you two are, you decide to play into said rumors. but just how far could you go before you lose sight of the line between fiction and reality?

words: ~7.9k LMFAO I REALLY WENT OVERBOARD HERE

warnings: cheesiness, cliche 10 things i hate about you vibes, both y/n and fred being oblivious idiots. what’s more to love

a/n: you thought i’d avoid writing another fake dating fic? with fred? NEVER. ik there r some fake dating fred fics out there but i swear we need MORE bc this is the best trope ever idc. also made up a name for the school paper cs i forgot if it was a thing in the books/movies lol. reader is an implied gryffindor/ravenclaw but can technically be in whatever house you’d like : )

add yourself to my hp taglist here!

The problem with Hogwarts was that rumors spread through its halls like fiendfyre.

It all started during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Harry had narrowly caught the Snitch after a Dementor false alarm and carried the team to victory, causing the stadium to explode into ground-shaking cheers. Waves of deep crimson and gold were pouring onto the field and you almost got trampled in the midst of it until someone pulled you into the center.

“There you are—I was looking all over for you,” Fred beamed. “You were watching, right?”

“I was sitting front row…you literally saw me, Fred,” you stated plainly.

“I know, but I wanted to make sure,” he winked at you, sidelining you into a hug. “You look very pretty, by the way. I think my hat looks better on you than me.”

“Anddd there’s the woman of the hour! He couldn’t stop staring at you—almost crashed into the teachers’ section ‘cause of that,” Lee came over and clasped your shoulder.

“That’s what that was all about? Freddie, you need to get it together!”

“Can’t help when you’re as alluring as a Veela,” the compliment rolled effortlessly off his tongue. He then tilted his chin down to kiss your forehead, and you didn’t bother pushing him away despite the fact that he was all sweaty after being up in the air.

A bright flash of light pulled you out of Fred’s embrace, and you blinked to see Colin standing there with a wide grin on his face, camera in hand.

“Just capturing the moment,” the younger Gryffindor said excitedly. “This is gonna be a good one!”

You thought nothing of it until you went down to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning. You went over to find your Ravenclaw friends, who seemed to be huddled around something, staring at it intensely.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” Cho beamed brightly at you, moving over to make room for you to sit next to her. “Have you seen the latest school newsletter?”

You filled your plate and took a copy of the Hogwarts Daily Digest that Padma gave you. “No…what’s it all about?”

“Check page 3,” she told you. You took a bite of your toast first, pausing as you scanned over the page. At the front and center was a moving picture of you and Fred embracing, him pressing a kiss to your temple, smiles of pure bliss on both your faces. You had to admit that Colin had a way with pictures; so much so that you almost would’ve believed you and Fred were a true couple just by looking at the article.

“So we’re going out, apparently,” you said, taking another bite of your food, “...Interesting.”

“Several students were interviewed about it, and they’re wondering if you guys are,” Cho explained. “With the way he kept looking over at you during the game, and how he was searching for you after it ended.”

“I—I’ve ought to talk to Fred himself, see what he thinks about this—” you spluttered, feeling hot all of a sudden. “I just—we’re not even—”

“But you would be very cute together,” your best friend added. “I mean, you have known each other for how long now? It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone if you were.”

At the end of the day, you went to the library to squeeze in some quiet alone time for reading, curling up on one of the plushy sofas near the bookshelves. You were deep into a mythical book that Hermione recommended, fully zoned in for what felt like forever until the cushion sank a bit, indicating that someone had sat down next to you.

“What do you want, Fred,” you sighed without even looking up from your book. “Come to bother me again?”

He took the book from your hands in response and closed it.

“Hey, I was reading that—” you began.

“I wanted to ask you about the article,” he stated, “don’t you think Creevey’s quite the photographer?”

You scoffed. “If this is about us being a couple, you know we’re not.”

“I was going to suggest something else.”

“And what is that?”

“Given that half the school is talking about us already,” he referred to the whispers in the halls that followed you from class to class, “why not play into the rumors a bit?”

“So you’re suggesting that, what?”

“That we say we’re a couple.”

“...you want to pretend that we’re going out?”

“Why not?”

“That’s insane,” you shot him a glare. “What do either of us get out of it?”

“Practice, of course,” Fred had a proud look on, “but also, why not have some fun with it?”

You stopped and thought about it for a second. He was right—who were you to not want to have a bit of fun? After all, it was just Fred; it couldn’t be that hard to fake-date someone, especially when you had no real feelings for them.

“Fine, but only on one condition.”

“What’s that, love?”

“Promise not to fall in love with me?” You stuck your hand out towards him.

Fred took it and gave it a firm shake, his signature mischievous grin making its appearance. “As long as you don’t fall for me either.”

“Dream on.”

He leans forward, voice dropping to a low whisper. “10 galleons says you’ll fall in love with me first.”

“Oh, please. 20 says you won’t even last half as long.”

“You’re on.”

So it began—settling into the whole routine was surprisingly easy. But of course, it was probably easier since you had money on the line; asides from George, you and Fred were the most competitive people in the entire school. You’d do anything for extra money, glory, and infinite bragging rights.

Making it a point to one-up each other, you began to brainstorm ways to really play up the whole “fake girlfriend” thing.

i. the pda competition, part 1

Monday afternoon’s Potions lesson proceeded as always, with Snape’s annoying, drawling voice instructing you on what to do.

Today’s class was boring but ended early, the only downside being that you were assigned a hefty load of homework.

“By the beginning of Wednesday’s class, you shall turn in to me two feet of parchment on the history of Strengthening Solution and its’ properties…” Snape ordered, “...for now, follow the instructions on the board. Ingredients are in the back. I expect the utmost perfection and accuracy…those who fail shall not be tolerated.”

Groaning internally, you headed to the back of the classroom towards the supply cabinets, Fred following close behind. Either Snape was out to get you both or it was sheer luck that had you paired together for this assignment.

“Wait, you forgot something,” Fred called out as you were about to walk away.

You turned around, a snarky reply ready. “What is—”

You didn’t even have the chance to finish your sentence when he grabbed you by the wrist and tugged you into his chest, kissing you square on the lips. You were completely taken by surprise and had no time to react whatsoever.

Low wolf-whistles and “ooohs” reverbrated throughout the entire classroom as you broke apart.

“What was that for?” you hissed.

There was a devilish grin on his face, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it right off him. “Just trying to be a good fake boyfriend, of course,” he whispered into your ear.

“Touch me again without warning and I’ll break your nose,” you said in a low tone, ignoring the heat rising up your cheeks.

“Miss Y/L/N…Mr. Weasley…” Snape said lowly, “...back to your seats, both of you. This is a classroom, not a bedroom. Get to work.”

Several students giggled at this and you huffed, heading back to your seat. You didn’t speak more than a few sentences to Fred for the remainder of the lesson, face still flushed from the sudden incident. He kept stealing glances at you as you worked in silence, adding the ingredients into your bubbling cauldron with careful, precise movements.

“That’s 1-0 to me,” he reminded you. “Better hurry and catch up, or I’m winning those Galleons.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you muttered, uncapping the bottle in front of you and pouring some of the liquid in.

ii. the pda competition, part 2

After Fred had kissed you in the middle of a packed classroom, you were determined to get back at him, racking your brain for ideas.

You sat under a sprawling tree by the Great Lake with Cedric, Cho, Padma, Ernie, and several other Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students. Somehow, you got lucky and all had matching free periods today, taking the opportunity to have a picnic by the water together.

“A little birdie told me that you and a special someone were going out,” Cedric pointed a finger at you, the other arm slung around Cho’s shoulders. “Now what’s going on?”

“They’ve always been mad about each other, only took them a million years to see it,” Ernie butted in. “Isn’t it obvious? One would think they’re already married at this point, though.”

“Who’s married to who?” you heard someone ask from behind you.

“Speak of the devil,” Ernie said, “there he is!”

“Was going to check on you—see you at supper?” Fred lightly touched your cheek. You nodded blindly, the skin of his hand hot on your face.

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

You turned back around to see everyone smirking at you knowingly.

“What?” you questioned, adjusting the collar of your shirt as if nothing had happened.

“Aren’t you two the cutest,” Cho laughed breathily, “Ernie was right. It’s like you’re married.”

“Oh shut up, we’re still much too young for that.”

“Not for long!”

Of course the only empty seat at the Gryffindor table that evening was next to Fred, and he made sure that you were sitting as close to him as humanly possible. All it would take was an extra few inches and you’d fully be sitting on his lap. You shook off the embarrassment and snapped back into it, determined to win the bet.

“I missed you all day, you know,” he admitted, placing a dinner roll onto your plate for you. “Where have you been?”

“By the lakes,” you said matter-of-factly. “Where else would I be?”

“With me, obviously.”

“I’d rather be anywhere else.”

“Well that hurt,” he pretended to look hurt. “I thought I was your favorite.”

“Second to last,” you joked. “Hey, wait—there’s something on your mouth.”

“Where?” he tried motioning around with his fingers but to no avail.

“Right…here…” you murmured, gently grasping his chin and pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his lip, tasting a hint of the sweet cranberry sauce he’d been eating on the tip of your tongue. Loud gasps erupted through the Great Hall at the sudden private but public display.

Fred inhaled sharply—he knew you were bold, but like this? For once, the jokester had nothing sarcastic to counter you with and was at a loss for words.

When you pulled away, both yours and his faces were a shade of deep scarlet.

“Cat got your tongue?” you smirked, discreetly slipping a sheet of paper into his back pocket. “That’s 1-1 now, Fred.”

Again, Fred was left speechless.

“I feel like I’m interrupting something very…” Ron coughed, damn near choking on his chicken leg. “Intimate. Scandalous. Very—”

“Shut it, Ronald,” you cut him off. “Can’t a girl snog her boyfriend when she wants?”

More jaws dropped at your reply, and you simply continued eating, a victorious grin on your face. Fred looked down and fished the note out of his pocket, unfolding the smooth parchment to reveal your tidy penmanship.

Now who’s the flustered one? you know where to find me if you need me xx

You were so going to win.

iii. the serenade

You found yourself sitting on the bench watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice—it was Fred’s idea to show up to as many of them as possible to really sell the whole “fake dating” thing. You didn’t mind all that much, as you got bored easily and liked to have a change of scenery every so often while you were studying.

A loud, abrupt screech caused you to look up from your textbook and you winced, covering your ears.

“You’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…” a melodic voice began flowing across the stadium. Confused, you set your book down and stood up, looking around for the source of the noise.

“You’d be like Heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…at long last love has arrived…”

Fred suddenly appeared from the commentator’s box, holding a microphone. He casually leaned against the pole before sliding down and hitting the bleachers, gracefully making his way down the steps.

“...And I thank God I’m alive…” his eyes remained focused on you, blazing gold and green. “You’re just too good to be true…”

“What the—”

He spun around and pointed at you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a childish grin, “...Can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“HIT IT, WOOD!” you heard someone (was that Lee?) yell, and music began blasting from the speakers.

Your friends were eyeing you with delight, fully entertained by the fact that you had absolutely no clue what was happening. Fred continued singing while he sauntered down the bleachers with a grace that you had never seen.

“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright

I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night

I love you, baby, trust in me when I say

Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray

Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay

And let me love you, baby, let me love you”

A blush coated your cheeks as he finally approached you, taking one of your hands in his and twirling you around. He held your gaze the entire time, eyes alight with what looked like genuine joy and passion. The rest of your classmates joined in as they crowded around you, joining together in one voice.

It was impossible to hold back the smile creeping up your face as Fred continued to sing—he was undeniably charming, and you had to admit, this was well worth suffering a brief loss for.

“Oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…” the final lyrics left his mouth and everyone burst into applause. He made a show of bowing dramatically and kissing your hand in an exaggerated motion.

You rolled your eyes at the overly extravagant gesture. But deep down, you had enjoyed every second of the impromptu serenade.

Within minutes after it ended, Fred’s musical spectacle was the talk of the school. Students nudged each other in the corridors as you passed by, whispering words of encouragement, saying how they wished for a relationship like yours, and wondering where they could possibly find someone like Fred.

You felt him slip something into your robe’s pocket. Fred had sidled up next to you as you headed up the stairs to the common room, still grinning widely.

“2-1,” he reminded you, kissing your cheek before turning to the Fat Lady and uttering the password. He stepped through the portrait hole and turned back to wait for you, then walked all the way inside. “Better continue that game of catch up, I might just steal the title of ‘best fake partner ever’ from you.”

There’s that beautiful smile, the note read. Keep it on for me, will you?

iv. the nightmare

Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, because it was 3:27 a.m. and you were wide awake after barely squeezing in a few hours of sleep.

Nothing you did worked; even the Potion for Dreamless Sleep had failed to keep the nightmares at bay. You didn’t last long before jolting awake, beads of sweat forming at your forehead and chest heaving with raggedy, jagged breaths.

After several minutes of tossing and turning you gave up, quietly tiptoeing down the stairs to the common room. The fireplace was on, indicating that someone was already there—

“Y/N?” Fred turned around from his spot on the couch to look at you. “What’re you doing up at this hour?”

You yawned, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Finishing an assignment,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. Sheets of parchment, a vial of ink, and several books were spread out on the coffee table. “You?”

“Nothing,” you lied, sitting down next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He didn’t miss the hoarse tone in your voice nor your tear-stained face, stopping what he was doing to fully focus on you. “Now I know that’s not true. What’s bothering you, really?”

“I said I’m fine, just can’t sleep.” You let out a shuddering sigh and attempted to will the tears away, but your vision began to blur. “Go finish your work—”

“Hey.” Fred’s voice was soft. “Come here.”

His arms gingerly wrapped around your trembling frame to envelop you into a tight hug. He reached one hand up to smooth out your hair as you shook with silent sobs, your hands curling into the fabric of his robes as if holding onto him would keep you from slipping away and losing yourself again.

Fred was never one to be patient, but he knew that you just needed this moment free of chaos. So he waited, laying there with you as he continued murmuring soothing words into your ear, gently rubbing your back; he’d wait for as long as he’d need to.

You didn’t know how much time passed until the tears ran themselves dry and your throat felt like it had been scraped raw.

“Want to tell me what happened?” he suggested. “But only if you’re comfortable, that is.”

You hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to tell him. Maybe he’d think you were strange…but seeing how he looked so genuine in that moment changed your mind.

“I lost you…I lost everyone. I watched you die, Fred.” Your voice was cracked and raw, which sent a pang through his chest. The image of Fred’s lifeless body trapped between the rubble flashed across your vision, feeling as if it was wrapping its cold fingers around your throat. “I watched you all die and I couldn’t save you.”

“But I’m alive and well right now, aren’t I?” he assured you calmly, “I’ll be here for as long as you want me around. You’ll have to fight to the death to get rid of me.”

Managing a broken laugh, you looked up at him. “Really?”

“Really. What are fake boyfriends for, anyway?” His hand found its place against your cheek, fingers gently skimming across your skin. You leaned into his touch and let out a sigh, lips just barely brushing over his palm.

“No one’s here, Fred…you don’t need to pretend.”

“I know I don’t.” Any and all traces of half-witted sarcasm were gone; wiped clean off his face. Instead, his eyes were glossed over with concern as they raked over yours. “Figured I could keep you company? Since I didn’t want you to be alone in your head like this.”

“I’d like that.”

He then passed a familiar folded square to you, and you opened it with a smile.

I’m here, whenever you need - F.W

v. the hospital wing run-in

“For Godric’s sake, how many more times will I have to see you in here?” Madam Pomfrey demanded as she hurried around, setting a metal tray by your bedside. “This is the third time this month.”

“Sorry,” you winced as you shifted your injured leg onto the pillow she’d set out.

“What is it this time?”

“I broke my ankle.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Pursing your lips, you elected to tell her the modified version of the story, which was the one where you had tripped while going down the stairs, not the one that included running down the Astronomy Tower after sneaking up there for a dare (the twins’ doing).

She shook her head in disbelief, glancing over the cuts on your face and fixing the bandages around your foot. “You’ll be in here for a few days. We’ll have to regrow the bones in your foot and ankle…my, how someone can break this many bones just from missing a step, I can’t seem to understand…what are all of you doing here?”

You followed her gaze to where Hermione, Ginny, Cho, and Fred were standing by the hospital wing’s entrance, alight with excitement upon seeing that you were awake.

“Guys—”

“Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Weasley, need I remind you that no visitors are allowed at this time! I advise that you all head back,” Madam Pomfrey ordered sharply.

“But we haven’t seen her all last night and this morning! Can we just stay for a minute,” Hermione begged. “Please?”

The older woman sighed as she scanned your friends (and fake? boyfriend’s) desperate, pleading faces. “...Alright, then. Don’t stay too long and for Godric’s sake, let her breathe.”

They immediately crowded around your bed and Fred walked over to your side, crouching down so that you were eye level with him.

“There’s my princess,” his charming persona was back in full force, and he smoothly brushed a few stray hairs out of your face. For what felt like the eleventh time, he was swooping in to kiss your cheek. Not that you were counting. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here,” you winked as you attempted to prop yourself into an upright position, but failed, giving up and flopping back down. “Ow. My foot.”

Ginny pretended to throw up on Hermione, who then elbowed her in the stomach. “Ow!” she yelped. “What was that for?”

“Let’s leave the happy couple alone,” she hissed, and they slowly backed away to give you some space.

Fred pulled up a chair next to your bedside, propping his chin in his hand to stare at you. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean for you to end up with five broken bones.”

“And a concussion, a killer headache, and not to mention dozens of sore muscles,” you grimaced, but felt a slight ache in your chest when you realized he looked genuinely guilty. “I don’t blame you, really. I mean, I was just as stupid and reckless. I definitely could’ve been more careful but I wasn’t.”

“I’m supposed to mess up your lipstick,” he groaned, “not your bones.”

“Someone took ‘public displays of affection’ the wrong way,” you said sarcastically, and then there was a brief moment of silence before you both burst into laughter.

“Damn right he di—OW, Hermione!”

“Gin, let’s go!” With that, the two girls left the hospital wing, leaving the two of you alone.

“Why are you here, anyway? Hermione and Ginny are because they’re my friends, and you’re my—”

“—lovely, charming, undeniably handsome boyfriend, of course. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Fred finished your sentence for you.

“Right,” your voice was dripping with sarcasm, “I just can’t seem to get rid of you, can I? It seems like you’re always around.”

“And yet, you don’t push me away,” a smile tugged at his lips. “Which clearly means that I’m just that irresistible. I don’t need a charm or some silly love potion to reel you in.”

“Don’t think that because I’m incapacitated, this game is over,” you warned him. “I will beat your arse to a pulp, and you’ll be twenty Galleons lighter. I bet you’re madly in love with me already.”

“Believe what you want, my darling,” he sing-songed, twirling his wand between his fingers. “But we all know I’ve already won this game.”

“Yeah, right. We’re tied now, by the way. That’s for getting me injured.”

“Oi! You can’t just—”

“Shh…don’t come crying to me ‘till you lose.”

He ended up staying overnight.

You didn’t protest at all.

Neither did Madam Pomfrey later that evening after seeing him slumped over on your bed, fast asleep, one hand clutching yours like you were the only thing he had left to lose.

vi. the howler

For once you managed to get to the Great Hall before Fred did. The bloke was always criminally late or ridiculously early to everything; it was almost laughable how there was no in between for him.

He finally showed up just ten minutes before breakfast was supposed to end, breathing hard with his hair all messed up.

“What’d I miss?” he asked you.

“Nothing,” you responded. “Just another ordinary day…”

A gust of wind suddenly swept through the hallway causing the napkins to flutter in the air. A giant grey owl came swooping down onto the table and landed straight in front of Fred, clutching an envelope in its curved talons.

“What’s Errol doing here? We’re not supposed to get our daily mail til’ tomorrow,” Ron gawked, “surprised that he’s here given the number of times he’s collapsed mid-delivery—oh blimey Fred, you must be in trouble! You’ve got a Howler!”

Several Gryffindors around you giggled at this.

With a slight look of confusion and fear, Fred carefully removed the seal on the bright red envelope. Molly Weasley’s booming voice immediately came bursting from the pages.

“FRED WEASLEY, HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME THAT YOU WERE DATING MY FUTURE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW! I AM DISAPPOINTED IN YOU—Y/N dear, if you’re hearing this, I’m very happy for you and hope to see you at the Burrow soon, I’ll make sure to whip up some homemade custard for you—YOU OUGHT TO TREAT HER RIGHT, BOY, OR ELSE! I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD AND I SURE AS MERLIN CAN TAKE YOU RIGHT OUT!”

A silence fell over the entire Great Hall and Fred sat there, in shock. The red envelope folded itself up and then burst into flames, its ashes crumbling to the floor.

“I’ve never seen him turn that red,” George sniggered. “You’re bloody brilliant, Y/N.”

“Y-you did this?” Fred spluttered.

“Can’t say I didn’t,” you hummed, patting his head affectionately. “Your mum was bound to find out, one way or another.”

“And you thought this was the best idea?”

“Aww, is little Freddie all embarrassed?” you teased. “Never thought I’d live to see that day.”

“Quit gloating,” the redhead grumbled. “You haven’t won yet. Better sleep with one eye open tonight.”

vii. the pda competition, part ∞

As it turned out, continuing to slip into your fake relationship only became more fun as the days and weeks dragged on. And being competitive only added to the fun, as you were scrambling to one-up each other.

You often opted to hold his hand when walking from place to place, which wasn’t difficult given that you were almost always with him now and had to sell the idea that you really were together. His hands were rough and calloused from all those hours working on joke shop prototypes, but they were still surprisingly comforting. A way to keep you grounded when your head got stuck in the clouds.

Fred’s signature move was, of course, dropping random kisses on your cheek when you didn’t expect it. Sometimes, when he was feeling bolder than usual, that would change to the tender spot between your ear and jaw, your shoulder, or your nose. And each of those times he made sure they were extra drawn-out and that you were in a crowded area so others would see it. The courtyard. The Quidditch pitch. The classroom (two of those incidents were in Potions, much to Snape’s dismay. He didn’t even bother taking points off due to being too disgusted).

“I have a massive exam today,” he declared loudly to you as you stood in front of his upcoming class together. “I think I’m going to need a kiss.”

“Why?” you scoffed. “What do you need that for?”

“For good luck,” Fred said, “it’s kind of a tradition, isn’t it?”

“You…want a kiss for good luck?” you started.

“I’m waiting…” he sang, face turned slightly in an invitation. You sighed and went up on your tiptoes, doing as he asked. “Thank you. But you have terrible aim…you missed.”

“I fear you’re having way too much fun with this,” you muttered. “Don’t make excuses. My lips are not going near yours unless they absolutely need to now.”

“Oh come on, you know you’re having loads of fun too,” he called out as he walked into the classroom. “Catch you later, sweetheart!”

viii. the butterbeer (alt: the pda competition, part ∞)

It was the day of another Hogsmeade outing and you were hand-in-hand with Fred as you walked down the cobblestone streets together. You had planned to spend the day alone for the most part and join Cho for a meal, but Fred had cornered you at breakfast and insisted you go on a date with him.

“To keep up the façade,” he insisted. “Wouldn’t people find it odd if the castle’s favorite couple wasn’t together?”

You nodded and didn’t protest further; you had no energy to do so anyway. It was far too cold for your taste; you had been dragged out without having time to grab your gloves, blowing hot hair into your hands that were steadily growing numb.

“Love,” he called for you as he took your hands in his, “oh, your fingers feel like ice.”

“No…shit…” your teeth chattered as you attempted to respond steadily. “Might lose ‘em if we don’t hurry up and get inside—”

“Wait one second,” Fred said as you two stopped right outside the Three Broomsticks, wasting no more time in taking his gloves off and handing them to you to put on, while he wrapped his house scarf around your neck. “There. Let’s head in.”

“But—”

“Boyfriend duties, remember?” he winked at you as he pushed the door open, holding it for you to step inside first. “Come on. I think a butterbeer or two’ll warm you up.”

Fred’s hand remained on the small of your back, pressing in gently to lead you to a cozy booth in the back. The added warmth felt quite nice, you thought, but you also wondered how he managed to stay like a human furnace when it the weather outside was so dreadfully cold.

It was hard not to stare at him; catching his gaze every so often while sipping your drink. His hair was all tousled from the frigid winds; you took notice of the way it slightly curled out at the ends, glowing under the hazy yellow bar lights. It was annoyingly endearing how he could look so flawless without any effort and even more so that you didn’t have anything snarky to say.

“Fred, I think we’re being followed…” you whispered as you scanned the near vicinity, fingers brushing against the rim of your mug. There in the far opposite corner sat Padma, Ernie, Cedric, and Cho, attempting to look nonchalant as if they weren’t half-stalking you but they were doing a rather terrible job at it. You quickly looked away.

“So? Isn’t that what we want—for people to see us?” he countered with a tone of confidence. His voice dropped low as he continued to speak to you. “Why don’t we give them a show? No need to be so private.”

Your face burned. “What do you—”

“Not like that,” he chuckled lowly, “what did you think I meant?”

“I…”

Fred paused, then raised his hand and brushed something off your cheek with his thumb. “You’ve got something on your face.”

“Oh, so we’re playing that game now, are we?”

“Indeed, my lady.”

You scoffed quietly and imitated his motion, reaching up to smooth out the crease that had formed between his brows. “Put a smile on your face, why don’t you? You look better that way.”

“I always look good, though.”

“I look better than your greasy arse.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged. “I’d like to see you tr—”

Before you could say anything else and before he could stop himself from what he was doing, Fred placed a hand on the nape of you neck and pulled you in, kissing you without another word. All protests left behind flew right out the window (along with your morals, too, you thought) and for a split second, it almost didn’t feel like you were pretending at all.

When you broke apart eventually, breaths a little heavy, neither of you needed to look over to see that your friends were gaping in shock, mouths dropped wide open. Sure, Fred was confident and cocky and you were equally so, but both of you would be lying if you said this didn’t take you by surprise.

“You still keeping track?” His voice still had that low, almost husky tone to it. He was cupping your cheek now, and you let him keep doing so. “There can only be one victor, right?”

“Wouldn’t forget it,” you exhaled. “You think we look convincing enough right now?”

“Without a shadow of a doubt.”

ix. the thunderstorm

The day’s exciting Care of Magical Creatures lesson was cut thirty minutes short due to the heavy downpour that had suddenly came crashing down, bringing with it a booming thunderstorm and soaking all your clothes within minutes.

“Well, that’s it fer today, everyone,” Hagrid announced, “now let’s head back inside, don’ want yeh to catch a cold, we’ll continue when the weather lets up…”

You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and flipped the hood on over your head, eyes narrowing as you stared up at the suddenly stormy grey sky. It just had to be on the one day you got to go outside and do something exciting, damn it….

It was freezing, nearly as horrible as that one day in Hogsmeade, and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to simply curl up by the fireplace with Hermione, the Patil twins, and Cho, and talk all evening long. If you could even make it back to the castle in one, unfrozen piece, maybe you’d at least get your hands on some hot chocolate from the kitchens…

A warm hand found yours amidst the strong winds, and all of a sudden you didn’t feel so cold anymore.

As if he had read your mind, Fred said, “how about we sneak into the kitchens and grab something to drink? Hot chocolate, perhaps?”

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled and he draped an arm over your shoulders, bringing you into his side. It felt so natural now, like this wasn’t part of some long-standing bet to fool the whole school; as if you were just two best friends trying to keep warm in subpar temperatures. And it was almost too easy to get used to it.

“Oblivious idiots. I told them for years that they’d be perfect together and it’s only this year that they start going out,” George exclaimed from several yards behind, walking side-by-side with Lee Jordan. “Dunno why it took them so long.”

“Love takes time, obviously,” said Lee as he watched Fred lean into your ear and say something, and you giggled lightly in response, “and now, what matters is that I finally have an excuse to make fun of them during Quidditch matches.”

“Oh—good point.”

“And you’ve noticed that he stopped pranking her? Unlike him, isn’t it?”

“Wait…” George paused as he took in Lee’s questions. His mouth formed an ‘o’ in realization. “He’s utterly whipped, that git.”

“What happens when boyfriend duties overcome prankster duties…this is perfect. Professor Flitwick owes me 2 galleons. I called it that he’d fall first!”

“You bet on them?” George squawked. “With Flitwick?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t either,” Lee laughed, “I know you did too.”

The expression on George’s face shifted into one of defeat. “I lost,” he muttered, “I owe McGonagall 3 galleons.”

x. verum exeat (let the truth come out)

The Gryffindor common room was alight with chatter once again. After a long, grueling week of exam revisions, Quidditch practice, and a brutal match to be remembered, Lee and the twins decided that a small celebration was in order. They had originally planned on inviting half the damn school but after arguing with Hermione, had to shrink the party down to just their smaller, usual friend group (they swore up and down that they’d clean up and not get detention like last time, but she wouldn’t buy it).

But you knew that if things had the Weasley twins’ names pasted next to them, they’d be far from peaceful; as far as you could possibly get—no matter how big or small.

“Oh, there you are,” you heard someone say from behind, and turned around to see that it was Hermione.

“Not drinking?”

“Someone’s got to take care of the boys after they go wild, right?” she explained. “Besides…I can’t stand the taste of firewhisky. It burns.”

You offered a tired half-smile and agreed. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Hermione seemed to be deep in thought for a moment until she told you, “You’re very lucky, you know.”

“What are you talking about?”

“To have Fred, that is. To find someone who’s that in love with you, it’s quite rare.”

“Oh, please,” you tried to suppress a laugh, “I told you why we’re doing what we’re doing.”

“And?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at you, “feelings change. Bet or no bet, he cares about you and anyone would be crazy not to see that. Ronald is half-blind and he can tell, too. You can’t possibly tell me that everything you’ve done up to this point has been a lie.”

“It’s meant nothing to me,” you said bitterly. “I hate him.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. And it doesn’t help that he’s everywhere,” you stopped to take a swig of firewhisky, “and I can’t stand it!”

“Do you not, really?”

“I do, but I—”

“You what?”

“I just hate him!”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think? I hate everything about him!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I hate the way he always tries to compete with me, I hate the way he doesn’t take things seriously, I hate that stupid, annoying little smirk he has on his face half the time I see him—”

You inhaled quickly; it felt like you’d just drank an entire vital of Veritaserum with the way that words were tumbling out of your mouth. Hermione gave you a look that seemed to say ‘Go on,’ so you did, “—I hate the way he walks down to the Great Hall every morning with his annoyingly perfect messy hair, I hate the way he risks freezing his arse off to give me his favorite gloves so that I don’t get hypothermia, I hate the way it’s so easy for him to kiss—borderline snog me like it’s nothing, I hate how this is all just supposed to be a game of pretend, and—and most of all, I hate the way he made me fall in love with him without even trying. I hate the way I don't actually hate him. Not even close, not even a little bit…not even at all…”

“You…really mean that?”

You whirled around to see that Fred was standing right behind you with his hands behind his back, eyes hopeful, and you felt your heart drop down to your stomach. “Fred—”

“Y/N, I—”

Suddenly it seemed like the walls were closing in on you from all sides, the room spinning; and then, everything around you jumbled into one chaotic mess of noise and color. Without looking to see either his or Hermione’s reactions, without caring that half the room had stopped to see what was going on, you pushed past your friends and quickly clambered out of the portrait hole.

“What was that about?” Ron’s nose crinkled in confusion. “So much for being a cute couple. Now this is just sad.”

“Will you shut it, Ronald,” Hermione whacked him on the shoulder.

“OW—”

“Stop being so dramatic! Don’t let me catch you drinking even one more shot or I will drag your arse back to bed,” she snapped.

“Pleeeease do, I would lov—ow, ow, OW! OKAY!” Ron exclaimed as she pinched his ear and began dragging him away. “Okay! I’ll leave them alone, I’ll stop…”

Chest heaving and vision blurring with tears, you rushed outside, desperate for a breath of fresh air. It was quiet in the courtyard asides from the faint trickling of water but that did little to calm you down; it was still too loud, too chaotic, too much. Sitting down at the marbled edge of one of the fountains, you tried to catch your breath and balance, but the world still kept spinning…it felt like it wouldn’t stop spinning; for Merlin’s sake. All you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear forever, or jump off the Astronomy tower and fly off to a distant land. You didn’t want to have to worry about how you poured your entire damn heart out in the middle of the common room about your fake boyfriend.

Your fake boyfriend that you realized, with horror, you had begun to develop not-fake feelings for.

A chill ran through you at that moment and you shivered.

Then the feeling of something warm—a thick coat—being draped over your shoulders shook you out of your trance. You instinctively slid it tighter around yourself.

“Thought I might find you out here,” said Fred. You opened your mouth, ready to ask how in Godric’s name he knew where you were at all times when he didn’t even have the Maurader’s Map anymore, but stopped. This was Fred Weasley, and you had spent an unhealthy amount of time around each other over the past several months that he had to have picked up on your little habits. He was more observant than he let on.

“What are you doing out here?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him.

“I couldn’t leave you alone outside to freeze, could I?” he asked, sitting down next to you. “What kind of boyfriend would that make me?”

“Please, just…” you inhaled sharply, “I can’t do this. You won. I lost. The game’s over, Weasley.”

“On a last-name basis now, are we? Ouch,” he said jokingly, but dropped the teasing lilt in his voice when he noticed your eyes starting to water. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

“It just isn’t fair,” you whispered, looking down at your feet.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not fair,’” your voice faltered, “you’re not supposed to do that. To do this.”

“Do what?”

“To sabotage the bet. To make me lose track of the scores.”

“Well, I stopped counting, you know,” Fred admitted, tucking a hair behind your hair. “There’s no need to keep track anymore, I think we’ve done enough convincing, don’t you think?”

“But that’s the problem!” your voice cracked as you finally turned to look at him. “It isn’t that I’m probably going to be dozens of Galleons poorer after this. It’s that I’m feeling something I shouldn’t, that…that you made me fall in love with you—”

“Y/N—”

“—I hate the way I care about you far more than I should,” you continued on, “and I hate myself even more for even wishing what we had was real. Because it was all fake, Fred, and you know it. We were faking it, and—”

“Y/N,” he repeated more sternly this time, causing you to stop mid sentence. “Look, I already told you I stopped keeping track. After that night in the common room….that’s when I realized I couldn’t. Lee damn near had to hit me over the head and force-feed me Veritaserum to admit that I was in deep. Galleons and glory be damned, I didn’t care about any of that anymore; it was easy for me to pretend when I was already in love with you.”

“But we weren’t supposed to fall in love, that was the rule,” you sniffed, wiping a tear from your cheek, “I thought we were supposed to follow the rules.”

Fred’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Well, I think some rules are made to be broken.”

And then, he was closing the gap and connecting your lips in a deep kiss. The gentle motion cut through the chilly evening air, washing over you in a blazing heat that had you melting into a haze of firewhisky, adrenaline, and something that smelled distinctly like a crackling log fire and cinnamon.

You had kissed him multiple times before this, but this one felt different than all the rest. It didn’t feel like you were doing it for show in the slightest; it felt genuine and warm and so real.

And the biggest difference was that you never wanted it to come to an end.

“So?” The grin on his face was palpable; contagious, as you broke apart, “What do you say, we stop faking it?”

“Are you fake breaking up with me?” you gasped and pretended to look surprised. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“I’m asking to real-date you, darling,” he said.

“There’s no money on the line this time?”

“No,” he hummed as he leaned forward to kiss you a second time and pretended to think for a second, “but there might be something else on the line instead.”

“And what is that ‘something else?’”

“You’ll have to wait a few years and see.”

xi. the promise

—FOUR YEARS LATER—

Fred was a great planner, of course. “Brilliant,” Harry would say, “absolutely brilliant.” He might’ve been a jokester, but he was a very organized jokester. He always knew what he was going to do and when.

So when it came to you, he thought he had a plan. He thought he had it planned for years; he was thinking fireworks, extravagant displays in the sky, taking you on a sunset ride across Romania on one of Charlie’s dragons. Something to match your free and daring spirit.

But, the moment ended up presenting itself on its own.

It was an ordinary night with yours and Hermione’s families joining the Weasleys for a quiet weekend at the Burrow. Mr. Weasley was listening intently as Mr. Granger and Harry explained the function of rubber ducks and the Internet in great detail, and the rest of you chatted with your parents, Mrs. Weasley, and Mrs. Granger by the kitchen counter about post-graduation plans.

Mrs. Granger had made an off-hand, passing comment about how lovely your silver bracelet—the one with charms of yours’ and Fred’s initials and Patronuses dangling from it—looked on your wrist. And then Fred was saying, “I know something else that would look great on her,” and taking a small box out of his pocket and flipping it open, revealing a blinding bright, silvery diamond ring.

Even as shouts of realization and cheers of joy rose up from around the kitchen, the world seemed to fade away into complete silence when he put the ring on your finger and encircled his arms around your torso, kissing your cheek and whispering into your ear,

“I told you there was something else, didn’t I?”

tags: @xhanthexzoria @arkofblake @fictionalsimp449 @polar-myst @katelikeslaughs @lmllsl @schlattandcompany

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hp fanfic #hp imagine #fred weasley fic #hogwarts

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fastandcarlos · 7 months ago

Text

How Everyone In The Paddock Knows You're Dating : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen

He’s naturally paying attention to you, without even realising that he’s doing it until one of the team nudges his side. The team are well aware of Max’s eyes trailing across to look at you, or switching off to the conversation as soon as you start talking. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, but the team are well trained and constantly have to remind Max to pay attention again. He can’t help but smile whenever he’s looking at you, especially when he watches you walk around the garage with such an interest, showing a genuine enthusiasm for learning as much as you can about where Max works and what he does,

» Lando Norris

He’s like a big kid most of the time, but Lando becomes a lot softer whenever he’s around you, like you make him weak at the knees just from being by his side. The team notice how needy he becomes as soon as he’s in your presence, searching for affection as often as possible. Lando stops focusing on anyone else, the only person that he wants to be around is you. No one in the garage can believe how different Lando is when he’s around you, how he stumbles around, how he giggles uncontrollably, how he can’t bear to be in the same room as you without some sort of physical contact.

» Charles LeClerc

Everyone knows that your Charles because his eyes are always watching you. He loves knowing exactly where you are, forever checking that you’re alright and that you’re safe. When he loses sight of you, Charles can’t help but panic, eyes darting around until he spots you again. There’s a fondness in his eyes whenever he’s watching you, if you’re smiling, he’s smiling, if you’re laughing, he laughs with you, and if you seem upset, Charles gets upset too, heading over to you to see if you’re alright. It doesn’t matter what’s happening at the paddock, Charles loves the feeling of knowing that you’re right there with him, like a comfort right by his side.

» George Russell

No one in the paddock can fault how much of a gentleman George is for you, despite how busy he is, he always manages to make time to do all the little things for you. He holds the door open for you at every opportunity, keeps his arm around you to protect you from the crowd, offers you his jacket whenever he notices that you’re getting cold, anything that he can in order to keep you safe. Before a race George checks up on you, makes sure that you’re warm enough, had plenty of food, and ensures you’re sat where you can see the race in a spot that’s nice and quiet.

» Carlos Sainz

His smile always gets bigger the second he notices you’re around, usually spotting you out of the corner of his eye whilst half listening to what’s being said by the team. When he knows you’re nearby, Carlos is eager for things to be wrapped up as soon as possible so he can go over and see you. As soon as you’re within touching distance, Carlos’ arm wraps around you, with a kiss pressed to the top of your head to greet you, wondering what you’ve been up to whilst he’s been busy. Nobody else needs to look to see if you’re there, they can tell by the excitement in Carlos’ expression that you’re around.

» Oscar Piastri

Every single person in the paddock has listened to Oscar tell some sort of story about you, he loves telling them about you. He talks about you with so much excitement that every single one of them knows just how in love Oscar is with you too, sounding much happier than he ever does when he’s talking about his car. He remembers every last detail about the things that he does with you, and has the world’s biggest smile on his face whenever he shares them with anyone. It’s one thing that he’ll never tire of, forever gushing about you around his team.

» Daniel Ricciardo

It’s the little things that everyone in the paddock notices that Daniel always does for you. It’s the way he passes you one of his caps if it’s particularly sunny or passes you his water bottle to drink out of when you tell him that you’re getting thirsty and can’t get through to get a drink. He’s constantly attentive, despite how busy he’s supposed to be, he can’t help but still pay attention and make sure that he’s protecting you. The whole team knows just how in love Daniel is with you, after all, he doesn’t take care of any of them anywhere near as well as he takes care of you.

» Lewis Hamilton

The team can’t help but admire the way that Lewis looks at you, like you’re the most fragile person in the world that he has to protect. He loves to have you glued to his side when he’s at the paddock, no matter who he’s talking to. Whether it be a team meeting, a chat with a sponsor, or providing some feedback to Toto and Bono, Lewis still has his eyes on you. You don’t say much, not that you can, but when you do speak, Lewis looks at you with such an adoring look that the rest of the team can’t help but admire how fond Lewis is of you.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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neeeooon · 2 months ago

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OH MY DAYS i need a blue lock fic with the characters being with a s/o who easily gets jealous but won’t do anything about it, except maybe holding the characters hand or cling onto them and they think it’s the CUTEST THING EVER they just find you so cute with your lil pout and furrowed eyebrows, and the reader maybe glares at the person who is making them feel this uncomfortable feeling (jealousy and possessiveness) residing in them :0

characters: isagi, barou (my king pls i’d let him step on me), rin, sae, chigiri, and maybe kaiser or nagi? ><

ofc!! thank you for the request! wbk version here

when they find your jealousy adorable

bf bllk x gn!reader. fluff

isagi yoichi

-> isagi’s practice was canceled and he promised to spend the day with you. until half of his team crashed your date

-> the worst part? isagi was excited to see them! you sat there, scanning bookshelves and holding your own growing pile of books, side-eying your man every few seconds to see if he’d offer to carry them for you

-> “coffee coffee,” kurona chanted, resulting in the others craving caffeine as well. when isagi turned to ask if you wanted to join them, he caught your jealous little pout and the dip between your brows and melted

-> “i’ll meet you guys in a little while. my girl/boy needs me!” you humphed and spun away when your boyfriend finally tried to pluck the books out of your arms. “i’m sorry, sweetheart. i should have been paying more attention, but you’re just so cute when you’re jealous.”

barou shoei

-> you can’t help your rising temper as people crowd around you and barou, chanting “king, king!” repeatedly as they try to get his attention

-> your grip tightened around his arm, pulling him with you to the car and locking the doors when you were in. “babe, i love you, but i hate your fans.”

-> barou smirked and admired your flushed and pouty face as you continued to stare out the blackened windows at the fans. the chants got quieter and quieter as he drove away, but they still irked you

-> “you look jealous.” you faced him, appalled. “jealous? me? of them?! yuck!” but your cheeks were red and barou picked your hand up to kiss the back of it as he drove. “it’s adorable.” “… i might be a little, tiny, small bit jealous…”

itoshi rin

-> “rin, hold me back.” “no.” “i’m about to beat her up! so either hold me back, or bail me out of jail.”

-> you were at a park when a food truck worker started hitting on your boyfriend, despite his obvious disinterest and your presence

-> sighing heavily, rin grabbed your hand and pulled you with him as he approached the car. usually he’d find the obsessive, incoherent mumbling of threats irritating, but coming from you? he found himself smiling at your creativity

-> “you don’t need to be jealous.” “i wasn’t..! well, she didn’t need to flirt so heavily while i was literally holding your hand!” rin pinched your cheek before starting the car. “cute.” “i’ll kill her!”

itoshi sae

-> your jaw dropped when you walk into your house to find your boyfriend and a man sitting at your table with dinner and wine. they greeted you casually, like you were the one intruding, as you slipped past to grab some water from the fridge

-> you spent the whole evening sulking in the living room until his friend finally left. “who was that?” “a friend from spain.” “hm.” ohh, you’re jealous. you’re envious. you’re searching re al’s social media for any mention of that guy and humphed when you found a photo of him and sae as young teens

-> “well, i’m sorry i interrupted your date.” you couldn’t see sae smiling at you as he explained, “it wasn’t a date. he’s in town for work.” “work that involves drinking our wine..” “important business.”

-> you flopped yourself across the couch as sae approached with a bottle. “i don’t want your reject wine.” “i was going to give it to him, but his wife is pregnant and can’t drink.” you blink. “why didn’t you lead with that?!” “cause you’re cute when you’re jealous.”

chigiri hyoma

-> chigiri is the type to stew in his jealousy until it goes away, but he found himself smiling when running into an old friend while out with you

-> you are not as conscious of your inner emotions, and chigiri had to bite back his grin as you fumed silently at his side, especially when his friend pushed chigiri’s shoulder when she laughed. “we should totally meet up again! i’ll see if anyone else is in town. bye, hyoma!”

-> after she left, chigiri burst into laughter at your little, mocking, “bye hyoma! i’m sick of her ass.”

-> you grumbled things about the encounter the rest of the day, and chigiri just smiled and chuckled through it all. “how are you so social?” “how are you so cute when you’re jealous?” “i’m not!”

michael kaiser

-> usually, kaiser's the one getting jealous, so when you were the one clinging to him through the crowd of fans, he couldn't help but be amused

-> “back off,” you seethed when a fan stepped a bit too close to your man, and you would have snapped your teeth if they didn’t scamper off after the first warning. kaiser grinned, completely invested in your bodyguarding

-> you managed to break through the fans, practically shielding kaiser with a hug you claimed wasn’t a hug. he poked one of your flushed cheeks and beamed when you frowned. “you’re adorable.”

-> “am not! i’m protecting you from those heathens!” “you’re jealous of my fans.” “nuh-uh!” “yes. it’s adorable.” “… i’m gonna kick you!”

nagi seishiro

-> getting jealous is a frequent thing when it comes to your oblivious boyfriend, and you constantly have to remind him of that

-> “sei?” “hm?” “you know they’re flirting with you, right?” you point at the online gaming chat, where some user he was playing with was calling him cute and asking for his number. nagi just blinked up at you. “but your name is in my bio.” “i don’t think they care.” “i put a heart, though..”

-> you pouted. “fine. do what you want. let them call you cute or whatever…” nagi can’t help but grin a little at your jealousy

-> when you turn your back to him, he rolls his chair over to you and wraps both arms around your middle, resting his forehead against your back. “cute. only you’re cute.” he gave you a small squeeze. “especially when you’re jealous..”

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ssahotchnerr · 3 months ago

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this one is kinda angsty, but imagine Aaron and Reader are still kinda new (not even a year yet) and reader does something Hailey used to do all the time and Aaron (still grieving) just breaks down about it

-🗣️

flashbacks

aaron baby :( cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of haley, references to the foyet arc, discussions of grief/death, food mentions, hurt to comfort <3, aaron cries :( wc; 1.4k

"Hi honey, welcome home."

"Hey," Aaron greeted you, confusion laced in his voice as his brows furrowed. "You're awake at this hour?"

It was about four in the morning, and the team had landed back in Quantico not even an hour ago. He had expected to come home to an asleep apartment, but found you fully awake, in the kitchen making something that smelled wonderful. Cinnamon, was it?

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep." You shrugged slightly, cracking an egg into a bowl and discarding the shell. "So I figured I'd make you a very early breakfast. I thought coming home to something warm would be nice." Glancing over your shoulder, you offered him a bright, kindhearted grin.

Aaron's mind immediately flashed to an image of Haley, the scene nearly identical. In her pjs, a dimly lit kitchen, the aroma of french toast drifting through the air. They'd both sit down to eat, Haley's lighthearted conversation pulling him from the case induced fog that always followed, until he felt like himself again. This was years ago, back when they were happy. Back before... everything.

It was like a smack to the face; the abruptness, the vividness, the grief took him completely by surprise. His whole upper body tensed up ; his chest was particularly tight, as if an exhale would break the barrier and a major flood would erupt.

"Aaron?" Your concerned voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"I'm not hungry."

That's not what he wanted to leave his mouth (he was also starving, in fact) but it was simpler. Horribly simpler by the look on your face that developed. Your expression dropped completely, cheeks warming from hurt and embarrassment.

You turned too late to hide it, beginning to tie up the bread. "Okay, that's fine."

"No that's not what I... shit." He mumbled under his breath, raising his hand to momentarily cover his face. Your wavering, not-sounding-like-you voice shattered his heart profusely more.

He was awful. Awful awful awful.

"It's no big deal, really," you insisted, your tone borderline high-pitched as you forced normalcy. "It was silly of me to assume-"

The very last thing he wanted was to push you away. To make you feel forgotten. Unwanted. In which from previous experience, he was evidently an expert in. He couldn't make the same mistake twice - he couldn't lose you too, by plain idiocy.

"Haley..." he began to explain, taking a deep breath and using it to open up the broken part of his heart - the one he purposely kept hidden away. He also didn't want to deny you any part of it; it was clear you loved him with all of yours, and you deserved to know all depths of his. "She used to do this for me whenever I got home from a case late."

Any short lived walls were dropped, and you faced him with slight horror, now fully aware of what you had done. "She did?"

Aaron met your eyes, nodding silently.

"I'm..." Lost for words, you urgently walked towards him, frazzled yourself. "I'm so, so sorry."

"You didn't know. I mean, how could you." Aaron shook his head, forcing an apologetic smile. He sat down at the table, his back hitting the chair defeatedly. "I didn't mean to be so harsh. It caught me off guard. I'm sorry sweetheart."

"I can only imagine." You dropped onto his lap, looping your arms around his neck. You felt horrible, greeting him with anguish rather than the warmth you had intended, especially after a long, grueling case.

"I didn't expect the memory to be so..." He searched for a word, ultimately failing as his chest rattled slightly.

"Grief is unexpected. It has its ways of sneaking up on you," you consoled softly. "It's okay."

"Yeah, but..." Aaron sighed, looking down with intent to gather his thoughts, if the deep line drawn in his eyebrows was anything to go by. Your fingers ran through the nape of his hair soothingly, an indication he could open up. You were here to listen.

"I feel bad grieving. As if I don't have the place to. I mean, I'm the reason she's well..." Dead. Even more images flashed through his mind, specifically ones of high school Haley: auditioning for Pirates of Penzance just to find the excuse to talk to her, the initial puppy love, the certainty they'd found their person. It made him sick to his stomach. She was so young, so full of life, and she made the deadly mistake of falling for him. "Not here."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm the one who-"

"No, you're not." As he raised his head to look at you, the tears he didn't know had escaped trailed down his cheeks. "Aaron, honey. That man," Your teeth clenched. You didn't want to say his name, knowing what he did to Aaron. The scars he caused, the very ones you saw Aaron glare at in the mirror while shirtless. The terror he caused Haley before taking her life. And Jack, too young to understand why he'd never see his mom again, "Is the only one responsible for what happened. You did everything you could."

"I let her down." He'd never forget Haley's voice during that phone call - the panic as she realized who she had encountered. He had failed her, he had failed to protect their family.

"No, you didn't. And in terms of the present too, you're still aren't." You breathed out softly, sympathetic. "Please, don't blame yourself. I know it's easy to, but it's unfair. And I'm certain Haley would agree."

You tightened your grip around him, pulling him closer with all your strength, as if doing so would alleviate some of his sadness. More than anything, you wished you could absorb some of his pain. You'd gladly take it and more, if that meant relief on his end.

And the two of you stayed like that for a while. Aaron pressed his face into your neck - savoring your warmth, your presence, that you were here with him. He never thought he'd find love again, let alone someone would love him. You were the sweetest miracle he could imagine.

"Thank you," he mumbled into your skin, closing his eyes.

"No need to thank me," Aaron pulled back as you spoke, opting to give you a kiss. "I'll always be here for you."

"I didn't mean to sound ungrateful before."

"I know you didn't," you graced him with another kiss. "And I understand. Moments like that will come and go, they most likely always will. I'm willing to help you through them."

He offered you a gentle smile, his sweet brown eyes relieved but sad.

You reached up, brushing back the cowlicks lazily draped over his forehead. "Tell me about her."

"Hm?"

The subject of Haley had never been forbidden - you wanted to keep her memory alive, for both Aaron and Jack. She played a huge part in both their lives, shaping who they had become. But you were always hesitant, not wanting to bring up the painful memories.

Aaron and yourself were a few days shy of your six month anniversary. But within that first month, in your heart you made her the promise to look after the two of them. You only hoped she somehow approved of you.

And talking openly about Haley could do wonders for him - helping the ongoing grieving process.

"Tell me about her." You used the pad of your thumb, to wipe away his stray tears. "Did she do it after every case?"

"Almost," Aaron chuckled, adjusting his seated position to get more comfortable, his hold on you not daring to lessen. "Sometimes my 'I'm almost home' message would wake her up, and she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep afterwards. I think that's what started it, but she also had trouble sleeping early on when I wasn't home." His thumb causally brushed against your hip bone as he reminisced. "Plus she would get on my ass for all the takeout I'd eat while away. She made sure to sneak some fruit onto my plate."

You couldn't help but laugh, offering an encouraging, soft smile. "She sounds sweet."

"Yeah..." Aaron sniffled lightly, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. There was a tenderness in his gaze, a warmth that wasn’t overshadowed by grief, but rather carried a sense of nostalgic, loving fondness; a ghost of the past. "She was."

"Tell me more." Before he could even begin, he was interrupted by a small grumble of his stomach. Your nose scrunched in amusement, a giggle escaping you. "Hungry?"

"Starving."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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tallulahneale · 2 months ago

Text

Dear Diary

Summary: Smoke and Stack read Tallie's diary to find out she's been crushing on Stack more than him.

A/N: This was the dynamic I picked up on; Smoke is mean-ish and headstrong while Stack is playful and easy going.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Sexual content

Part 2

Looking through her online calendar, Tallie proceeds to make a note of the catering orders for the week ahead.

“Journal time!” She beams, reaching to the shelf for the notebook that keeps her thoughts, experiences and feelings a secret. But to no avail. She searched everywhere for it!

“For a pink fluffy hardcover, it should not be that hard to spot.” She mutters pacing around her room.

Meanwhile…

Smoke is running through the Club Juke ledger, while Stack creates the monthly ad for their social media pages.

“Since when do you keep a notebook?” Smoke asks his twin, pointing at the pink feathered jotter in the midst of their bookstand.

“Do I look like I even like writing?” he replies with a guffaws, lounging on velvet wood settee. With mild curiosity, Smoke wedges the jotter from it's place. The feathers on the spine tickle him as he glides a finger down the hardcover, opening the unknown jotter.

‘Dear diary, Today was a blast at Club Juke! They loved the food and it was great meeting the rest of the team-

“Cute.” a twitch forming at the corner of his lips, remembering the look of joy in Tallie’s eyes. He keeps reading with intrigue.

St and Sm kept me entertained again while doing their meal prep, and boyyyy was I grateful for the distraction. Sm was intimidating (as per usual) so it didn't bother me when he left. St stayed with me tho❤️ I love like when St's around. The playful glint of his eyes and wide stance when he lurks in the hall makes my thigh clench. and his eyes. his muthafreakin eyes! They just draw me in. I’d loveee to see 'em eyes roll back when/if I ride his fac-’

“Woah, that’s enough” Smoke mutters to himself

“You’ll never believe what’s been written on these pages” He shares, passing the jotter over to Stack with the leather tassel bookmark wedged open on the page in question.

Stack collects the jotter with a suspicious glance, taking in the feminine attributes of the dainty pages. He flips it closed to check for a name but there is none, he returns to the indicated page. As he reads, his eyebrows raise, he swallows spit causing his adam apple to bobble, before smirking.

“I think Tallie should swing by… we do need a meal prep soon” He grins, Smoke nods and drafts a note to send.

Back at Tallie’s…

A shiver shocks her bones, a superstition that a conversation is being had on her behalf. The diary is yet to be found and that makes her worry even more. In the wrong hands, it could spoil her good girl reputation. A ding is heard from the laptop resting on her desk; an email notification.

Meal prep requests from Smoke&Stack Twins. (Accept/Decline)

She smiles with relief while accepting the order, it’s always breeze cooking for them. Tallie shoots a quick reply to confirm the time and date.

———

With no luck, her diary remains lost and the appointment with the twins was here. She wanted to write a quick piece before seeing them, it would help keep her feelings at bay.

“I’ll be fine” She assures herself greeting the staff at the concierge and walking up to their floor. Tallie knocks on the door in a cheerfully way while waiting for someone to let her in.

Silence.

“They know I’m comin', right?” She says waiting patiently.

With another knock, a buzz of the bell and no response she lets herself in. The hallway is eerily quiet so she turns on the lights that lead to the kitchen. All the ingredients are already laid out on the prep corner of the kitchen counter. Butter, eggs, sugar, flour, vanilla extract, cinnamon, pecans; seems like the twins are craving pastries this week. Tallie hears a baritone mumble and quickly glances around the open plan room. Lo and behold Smoke has been lounging on the couch, the whole damn time.

“Didn’t you hear the bell?!” She snaps at Smoke, he is the only one present. Her tone is sharp, yes, but not writing in the diary has left her on edge. Especially today... the hidden thoughts were running wild.

Choosing the perfect time to emerge, Stack walks in through the hallway in a regal terry cotton robe. She peers up at his face and eyes him to his feet. His hair is damp with the robe hung loosely around his torso. The belt not fully tied. She glances back up, his eyes already catching her lustful stare. Flustered, she looks down and then back to Smoke, who remains on the couch.

“Is she taking that tone with you or me?” Smoke asks turning to his twin with a mischievous smirk, to which Stack smirks back with a shrug.

“I don’t need to be here.” She whisper but not quietly enough.

“Yeah but you want to be here… don’t you?” The mischief behind his smirk is now exposed as he point to the item in Smoke’s hand. Lifting up his left hand with a sway, you see the features of a very familiar notebook.

“That’s my diary!” She squirms. His back is faced away from her but she knew he is smirking like a cat that caught a canary. The flight or fight response has kicked in. Just as Tallie decides to make an attempt to run and snatch it, Stack strolls over to the kitchen counter shaking his head in warning. She freezes, glancing through her peripheral at Smoke still with her diary held high, the tassel moves…mocking her in an Irish jig. Stack steps closer to hover behind her, reading her bright eyes and steady breaths. The rope frees from its hold and leaves him open, chest bare and clad in fitting undergarments.

She gasps as he turns her flushed against the counter, facing the torment of her lust. His hands rest on the countertop, caging Tallie in.

“Secret’s out brown sugar” He growls into her ear.

Smoke finally turns to face them, striding to the empty counter stool. He positions himself directly opposite Tallie and Stack, still smirking and flipping through the pages. She attempts to nab it back but is left bent at the waist and pressed on the surface. Stack remains behind her, tracing delicate touches across the small of her back. Keeping his hips still but firm enough for her to feel the warmth of his nether regions.

“Give it back!” She barks, suddenly fuelled by desire and fear.

“You need to watch that tone Tallie” Stack warns from behind her, removing his hand from her back and returning it to the countertop. She whimpers at the loss of his warm and rich touch.

“I knew you didn’t see me like how we both see you” Smoke starts “You sure do express yourself more on a page than in person.”

She response with a glare, keeping a sharp gaze on him and her silly little diary. ‘Don’t falter, don’t falter, don’t falter’ she thinks to herself, but Stack's gentle caress on her arm cause a shiver to crawl up her spine and lashes to flutter in want.

“I don’t know… what your talking abo-”

Stack smirks at her denial as he tugs Tallie upright, fitting into the curve of her back as he latches onto her neck. A loud mewl escapes her lips as he savagely nibbles, licks and sucks at the pulsing jugular.

“St-tack” she stutter intwining their fingers, pulling his hand to her bountiful chest.

“Whose eyes do you want to see roll back?” Smoke demands, gloating at her demise. “Seems like it’s yours, huh?”

“W-whaa-?” Another moan slips out as Stack attacks her viciously. She always had a feeling that he had a way, with that thick tongue of his. From watching him wrap his joints to it poking out when he counts a stack of bills. Bring her back to the earthy plane, he eases off her neck moving to nibble at curve of her lobe.

“It is mine?” Stack asks, pressing the stiffening bulge of his thickness against the cleft of her rounded plump cheeks. All this while Smoke remains vigilant, stoic and unbothered.

“I-i want… w-want” she stutters, eyes flickering like a light in a horror movie, unable to handle the balance of Smoke’s smouldering gaze and Stack’s desire-filled touch.

“Talk to us Tallie” Smoke mocks her, still firm in his demeanour.

“I want my diary back!” She cries out in longing and thirst. Being touched but not touched enough left her in a limbo. It felt like punishment. The teasing, the taunting, the edging just because of her silly little diary. These men are a force to worship; more than just their aura, more than just their fierce gaze, everything.

“Still got tha’ tone on her Stack” Smoke says with a shrug of his hands and shoulders “You got work to do.”

He stands up and pushes the diary open on the last entry, the title ridicules her ‘Stack&Smoke twins’. Stack moves away from her space, she whines, eyes begging him not to let go.

“Relax” Smoke whispers smugly.

Stack crouches down, making his way under the flimsy fabric of her summer dress. Comfortably sat on the pristine marble flooring. With the back of his head resting against the cupboard doors, he looks up at her. The eyes that draw her in, the eyes that burn with so much compassion and power.

She looks down in acknowledgement, trapping his head between her warm supple thighs like a cushion. Smoke whistles. Her attention returns back to him as he winks.

“I’d love to give you more, but that diary’s in your hands now.” He states, stroking the tent formed by his covered length. Deviously taking in her expression.

Her breath hitches at the gentle swat across her southern breed cheeks.

“And so it begins” She hears Stack mumble beneath her.

He grips the thighs, holding her in place. The fabric of her panties is transparent, the wetness creating a friction. With the tip of his nose sliding against her covered lips.

His tongue follows the out line of her puffy lips through the fabric. tracing each curve up to her pulsing swollen clit and down to the entrance of her waterfall. He glides along, sucking at the fabric, wanting to taste it all.

“Pll-eease Sttackk” She begs

There’s a tut in the background. Smoke is still root on the chair, captivated at her lust.

“Ask properly” He advises, zoned in on her nipple that tries to escape the fitted blouse.

Stack nips at her inner thigh, swatting her cheeks twice in admonishment. She corrects her fault immediately, knowing what needs to be said.

“P-pl-lease Smo-ke, please Stackkk” She purrs.

With a nod, he pulls her panties to the side and slips in like a thief in the night. Tallie grinds on his thick warm wet tongue, his nose tapping at the clit. Her eyes tear-up and her fingers clenching into a fist, she watches as Smoke beckons her to lean forward. He pulls her bottom lip open, invading her mouth with his thumb. At the same time, Stack swats her again and grips the heated flesh of her hips pulling her onto his gushy slick face. Not hovering, he wants her whole weight.

The fiery gaze from Smoke was intense, the simultaneous pressure from Stack causes her to hump his lips with passion. Tallie sucks hard on his thumb, saliva wetting his finger drooling down into his palm. He snatches his thumb back while maintain the leering look of lust she held in her soul. He moves slowly, sinking his hand beneath his slacks and toys with the tip of his throbbing head, the wetness of her mouth on his thumb giving him enough friction. She mewls in delight as his paces quickens.

Stack isn’t letting up either, her slit is plunged with his fingers and her sensitive nub caressed by his tongue not yet giving her what she wanted. What she truly needed. He keeps a steady pace dancing around her clit as the wetness pools on his tongue like warm honey, down his goatee and across his freshly shaven cheeks. Tallie cries, letting out a whiny plea, asking for nothing but to cum. Her head is spinning, moaning feverishly as he eyes flutter from the cool breeze against her nipples.

"She's close" Smoke mutters, grinding into his palm as he sucks in his bottom lip.

Swats her again in warning, Stack reaches the sweet spot and thrashes his tongue. Desperate for her desire, her juice, her warm honey. Tallie let's go with a screech. She spasms on his tongue riding until her knees buckle, her eyes are back on Smoke wanting to see him finish with her. But he keeps his length hidden from her view, stroking it enough to release some tension.

Tallie can feel it. Stack can feel it. Smoke can feel it. It was in the air, the moment, she felt the gravity in the room suddenly drop, then a burst of warmth as she floods Stack with the essence of her womanhood for the second time. The twins groans in admiration. Smoke reluctantly frees his length, still tight and hard. Stack just as burdened but makes no move to relieve his discomfort.

It was all about her, these twins were selfless to the core. Smoke walks away snatching the diary from where it lay. Abandoned in the midst of their activities.

“You off all people should kno’ ” Stack starts as he stands up, placing a kiss along her chin and down her throat “Closed mouth don’t get fed.”

Tallie still in shock at the energy of the twins, blurts the first though that comes to mind.

“Do I still have to bake?”

“Do you want a bun in your oven?” The twins reply simultaneously.

She watches as they glance over their shoulder to peer at her, mischief written all over their faces.

PART 2

A/N: Watch the movie if you haven’t already!!!! (p.s did y'all notice the play on words with her waiting to be 'let in'?)

#sinners #sinners 2025 #smoke and stack #black girl reader #black fanfiction #ryan coogler #micheal b jordan #black culture #black movies #wunmi mosaku #smokestack twins #miles caton #fanfiction #michael b jordan #stack and smoke #erik killmonger smut #tnblog #Sinners smut

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roanofarcc · 2 months ago

Text

PICNIC DAY

pairing: robert ‘bob’ reynolds x fem enhanced!reader

summary: when rain threatens a thunderbolts team bonding outing, per the request of Alexei, they turn to their resident weather-controlling team member to save their plans.

warnings: shy!reader, pre-established relationship, the thunderbolts being one big happy family!

notes: just when the world needed it the most, found-family avengers fics return from the grave

word count. 1k | masterlist

You sat a picnic basket on the kitchen counter, the old-fashioned kind made of wicker with red and white fabric on the inside. Begrudgingly, Ava and Walker had made sandwiches earlier that morning, bickering the whole time but not allowing anyone else to take over, and you packed them along with other containers of food and drinks.

“Do you need any help?” asked Bob, who had abandoned his reading to join you. He fiddled with his hands, a nervous habit. You smiled at him, and he returned it with ease in his shoulders.

Months had passed since you all had moved into the Watchtower, growing closer with each day that passed. You and Bob in particular had grown the closest. No one was sure how it happened, how the two shy, slightly awkward members of the team ended up together. You weren’t sure either, but since the moment you met him in the warehouse set to be incinerated, you were drawn to him like a magnet.

It was unlike you to approach someone, much too stuck in your own world and fear of rejection for that kind of thing. But despite the storm that raged inside Bob’s head, amplified by the Sentry Project, you saw something else in him. Kindness that masked hurt, and a lost soul whom you wanted to find. It was an odd override in your anxious brain, but you wanted to be there for him, a stranger with a clear weight trying to keep him down.

Your likeness to each other formed a bond quickly, allowing an understanding to bloom and a friendship alongside it. When the Void overtook him, you and the not-yet-established team pulled Bob back, weaving through your own nightmares until you found the source of Bob’s.

The group stumbled into their new title of heroes, forced to be a team, but there was no complaint from the collection of people all in search of a purpose. You all had found it within each other.

It worked better than it should have; everyone got along better than they should have, forming a unit. You were close with all of them, but you and Bob had a connection unlike any other. While the rest of the group resembled a patchwork of family members, the adoration you grew for Bob wasn’t that.

Love was a word too scary to think yet, but it toed the line.

“I think I have everything packed. Yelena’s on the hunt for a blanket we can sit on,” you replied, closing the basket before you rounded the counter to where Bob stood. You gently pushed a few of his curls behind his ears to get a better look at him. He leaned into your touch as you rested your hand against the side of his face.

“Did you sleep okay?” you asked, noticing the ghost of dark circles under his eyes.

He shrugged. “For half of the night.”

“You should have woken me up,” you said with a small frown. You didn’t like to think of him tossing and turning at night. You had suggested sharing a bed on those bad nights, but he was too scared he’d drag you into your fears unknowingly if he fell asleep beside you.

“I didn’t want to be a bother.”

You raised your other hand to his face, holding him like he was worth something; to you, he was worth everything. “You’re never a bother,” you said, a gentle reminder, and brought his face closer to yours. Pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, you felt him smile into it. His arms loosely wrapped around your waist and didn’t move even when you broke apart.

“Look at you two lovebirds!” The booming voice of Alexei startled both of you. Bob’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as the team all wandered into the kitchen.

Yelena grinned at the two of you. “Don’t embarrass them,” she said to Alexei. “I found a blanket and we are…” Past you and Bob, her eyes fell onto the windows that overlooked the city. “Oh, man. Are you kidding me?!”

Everyone turned their attention to the window just as droplets began to fall from the heavy clouds. Alexei groaned loudly. “It was picnic day!”

“Looks like we’ll have to take a rain check,” Ava said with a shrug, setting down her bag on the floor.

Walker furrowed his brows and nodded his head toward you. “Are we forgetting we have weather girl here? Not that I care if we go or not, but I’m just saying.” He attempted to act nonchalant; he was rather bad at that. If his meticulous crafting of everyone’s ideal sandwich wasn’t enough of an indication of how he secretly wanted some more team bonding, his words just gave him away.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Bucky added, looking at you with a tired but kind glint in his eyes.

You studied the incoming storm for a moment and flexed your hands in thought. “Sure,” you said, earning a tilt of Bucky’s head that said he needed a better answer than that. “I want to. ”

You moved in front of the windows and closed your eyes, allowing your abilities to take hold. A buzzing rang in your ears as you focused on exactly what you wanted the weather in New York City to be like. You envisioned a clear sky, spotted with white clouds that allowed little breaks from the sunshine.

When you reopened your eyes, the rain had ceased, and the dreary sky turned bright.

A cheer sounded from Alexei as he clapped his hands together. “Let us go have picnic in park!” He grabbed the basket and everyone’s bags and started toward the elevator. The rest of the team follow, last in tow you and Bob.

“That’s so cool,” Bob said, glancing behind at the ray of sunlight you had placed there.

You giggled, looping your arm through his. “Cool enough to deserve a name better than weather girl?”

He smiled, not even comparable to the sun in your opinion, and pressed his shoulder against yours. “For sure.”

You joined the team in the elevator, off to enjoy a sunny picnic for the rest of the afternoon.

#thunderbolts*#the thunderbolts*#bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x you #marvel #marvel fanfic #mcu #yelena belova #john walker #alexei shostakov #bucky barnes #ava starr

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cherryredstarz · 4 months ago

Text

LaDs Boys reacting to you asking them to take care of your Tamagotchi

Rafayel 🐠

Raf wouldn’t know what do do at first; just button mashing until he saw what each button did.

You were only going to be away on a mission for three days, and Rafayel had ONE job. ONE.

Don’t kill your duck. Whatever he did, don’t kill it.

He killed it on accident within the first 10 minutes.

He turned it into a bigback.

A BIGBACK.

The biggest back of them all.

Through all of his button mashing, he kept hitting the food button, and the poor ducky kept eating, and eating, and eating because it wasn’t programmed to do otherwise—to disobey its’ overlord’s command.

And the poor ducky died. Too much food—a killer tummy ache, and Rafayel was horrified. The Lemurian immediately googled a tutorial on how to get you a new pet, and after that, a second tutorial on how to keep it ALIVE.

He got you a fish and named it Sue. You were horrified and terribly distraught when you returned to find Sue and not your beloved duck. Rafayel apologized, and begrudgingly, you forgave him.

Nothing would prepare you, however, for how hard you would laugh when you discovered Rafayel had accidentally make Sue a bigback too.

Caleb and Zayne 🍎❄️

It’s a team effort.

You best bet these two would be working together—the two boys had witnessed enough of your meltdowns as children when any of your Tamagotchi pets died. They’d been firsthand victims to a multitude of tantrums.

Caleb was obsessively researching how Tamagotchi’s were programmed; Zayne was meticulously and methodically setting timers to feed the duck at precise times to keep its happiness levels at maximum capacity.

Your duck became the most pampered online ducky in the world, at least, for a few days.

Sylus 🐦‍⬛

Initially, the man is…curious, to say the least. A Tamagotchi? Wouldn’t you prefer a living, breathing, fluffy critter to take care of rather than a pixelated image of a cat or dog?

Nonetheless, he will certainly do his due diligence and take care of this digital pet, all for his beloved. Sylus asks Luke and Kieran for advice, and the twins practically gasp when Sylus admits to not knowing what a Tamagotchi is. After 20 minutes of being bullied by his henchmen, the twins excitedly explain how to work your tiny egg shaped device—what the buttons do and how to input various functions.

Sylus determinedly takes care of your digital pet, a cat named Tulip, even voluntarily screwing up his already whack sleep schedule to ensure your beloved pet’s survival. He even brings the dangly keychain with him to business meetings, feeding the needy beast while discussing protocore deals.

By the time you’ve returned from your mission, you arrive at Sylus’s manor to find a fluffy Maine Coon kitten with a pink collar waiting for you—Tulip on the collars name tag.

Safe to say, you were delight to have not one, but two Tulips in your life.

Xavier 👽

Xavier didn’t even know what a Tamagotchi pet was until you begged him to keep it alive while away on a mission with Tara.

He tried—chugging energy drinks every few hours to stay awake, just watching.

Staring.

Waiting.

He didn’t even know when it happened—but he registered his eyes were opening. He glanced to the tiny digital clock above his apartment’s stove—it was 4:30 AM.

Oh no.

He checks the little pink eggs screen, and his eyes widen at the dead pet.

Shit.

Xavier will search a tutorial on how to generate a new pet; he’ll go as far as recreating the exact same pet, down to the stupid way you spelled that poor creature’s name.

He smiled at his genius. You’d never know.

He’d crack though, as soon as you arrived home, confessing to his crime. You’d frown at first, but Xavier would pull out the puppy dog eyes, and you’d forgive him. After all, it was sweet the way he tried so hard to fix his mistake. And besides, Tamagotchi pets are hard enough to keep alive to begin with.

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heich0e · 1 year ago

Text

iwaizumi got a lower back tattoo on his 21st birthday.

if you showed one hundred people in the street a photo of 30-year-old hajime, and then surveyed them as to whether or not they think he has a lower back tattoo, it's unlikely more than one of them would say yes—and even the one who did probably just misheard the question. it's as unbelievable a thought as any, and still somehow it's true.

he was 21, legally drunk for the first time in america, and hanamaki and matsukawa had finally come to california to visit him to mark the occasion. it was kind of a stupid trip, they realized afterwards, because issei and hiro were still only 20 and couldn't even go out to the bars near UC irvine that all of iwa's college friends were inviting him out to for the first time.

but he didn't mind.

he bought them beer and sugary canned cocktails from the convenience store near campus using the birthday money his nanay sent him, silently repenting in his mind as the store clerk in the polyester vest rang the expensive purchase through. then they all got drunk in iwa's tiny student apartment while they played video games, called oikawa, and eventually wandered out into the warm california night in search of food.

the details beyond that are fuzzy, but the lines inked into the little space at the bottom of hajime's spine are not—even after nine whole years.

most people have no idea about the tattoo—and hajime has gone to great lengths to keep it that way. he wears a compression t-shirt at the gym so there's no risk of it riding up and accidentally revealing it. he orders patches to conceal it on the rare occasion he goes to onsens. he never showers with the athletes at work, always either opting to shower at home, shower after the team, or use the staff facilities when available.

but in spite of all of that, he's not embarrassed of it.

he doesn't even really regret it.

it's just not anybody else's business.

the ink on his skin is a secret kept between him, matsukawa, hanamaki, the guy who tattooed him, and oikawa who was screaming on facetime in the background while it happened.

and now you, too.

your hand snakes up the back of hajime's sweatshirt as he stands at the stove preparing breakfast, cool fingertips tracing the curls of ink even without seeing them—having long mapped them to memory. hajime suppresses a shiver, not expecting the contact, as you crowd yourself closer to his back and lean your weight against him.

"i was trying not to wake you," he says quietly, the hand not holding the chopsticks he's flipping his omelette with reaching behind him in search of you.

"you didn't," you murmur into his back, catching his seeking hand in yours and twining your fingers together. "smelled food."

hajime laughs to himself, his eyes crinkling. he squeezes your fingers tightly as his heart thuds in his chest.

underneath his sweatshirt, your nails rake lightly against his skin.

"shouldn't i be making your breakfast?"

hajime transfers his omelette to the plate waiting beside the stove, flicking off the burner and then turning to face you. he wraps his arms around you and holds you properly now, your face burrowing into the collar of his hoodie the way you always do, his nose brushing your temple.

"wanted to let you sleep a bit longer," hajime grunts out, his cheeks burning a bit hot—still shy, sometimes, even after so much time has passed. "thought you might be tired after..."

you snort, your head popping up to look at him. "after you fucked me within an inch of my life into the wee hours of the morning?"

the fire burning under hajime's skin grows even hotter. he splutters a little, and struggles to meet your gaze.

"i'm not tired," you whisper, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. the incorrigible one he fell in love with. "we were celebrating, after all."

hajime's eyes are burning a little bit, to complement the stinging in his cheeks. you lift your hand up to his face so you can feel the heat of his skin, and he rests his own hand—larger, more calloused than your own—to rest overtop of it. he looks at you, and sees happiness reflected back at him in your gaze. so fathomless he thinks he could drown in it.

hajime turns his face into your touch, and his eyes flutter closed as he noses against your palm.

he presses a kiss there. soft. adoring.

then another, just slightly higher, to the ring he put on your finger the night before.

he peeks at you again, that same heat in his cheeks, though not nearly as unbearable.

he's got another secret he doesn't regret now, one just as permanent as the ink in his skin, but this one won't stay hidden long. eventually he'll call his parents, and his nanay will probably get teary. then he'll tell his friends, who will put his mother's tears to shame. he'll leave the tattoo artist out of it this time, though—wherever that guy is now.

"happy birthday, hajime," you whisper to him with a smile he can't help but return.

he might keep this secret between the two of you today, though. just for a little while longer.

it'll be his gift to himself.

#lmao i had this idea but didn't write it in time for his actual bday #happy (belated) birthday hajime the man that you are #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hq drabbles #hq writing #writing

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omgfangirlland · 5 months ago

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The Shadows That Nurture 12

Y'all are getting two chapters today because a little silly someone, won't @ because they haven't asked to be tagged in the tag list and Idk if they'd like the call out but they know who they are, liked every chapter and I loved your little comments so I finished chapter 13 so I can post this chapter only fueled by your excitement 🥰🥹

CW: people are getting their ass beat, so mention of blood and decapitation.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 12 >>next

With Nolan completely refusing to face anyone lately, and the announcement that the guardians are dead, you had to get away. You couldn’t sit and wait for him, couldn’t cry over the guardians, couldn’t sit by and watch how worried Debbie was every morning when he’d left. You just couldn’t.

So, while Mark went to university with Amber and William, you cashed in your vacation days and let the shadows lead you away over the seas to Romania. Softly landing in the Hoia-Baciu Forest felt—surprisingly—like home.

The whispers of the shadows nudged you around the forest, deeper and deeper, past the oddly shaped trees straight to a burnt circle of land where dried trees grew. Walking past the circle changed the scenery, from gloomy grey trunks to moss-covered, flourishing weeping willows circling a little lake.

Walking back to the edge of the circle, you stuck half of your body out and back observing the change happening right before your eyes. It seemed to be a Midnight City magic dome thing. Inside the dome, it was quite beautiful, the astilbes and the Japanese irises giving some color to the landscape. Your hands softly traced the taller flora as you got closer to the lake, lifting off the ground to move towards the center where a small piece of rock was.

This was a great place for an altar and the shadows greatly approved, too. Sitting on your ass, crisscross apple sauce, you placed your hands on the smooth surface, transfiguring it to expand and even out a bit more.

By the time you were done setting wards so no one could find the place and adding the actual altar and the statues for Lady Gotham and Death it was already so late.

With a small sigh, you place yourself in front of the altar once more. You were never religious, your biological mother didn’t care, Bruce didn’t, the Graysons didn’t- it felt awkward to pray to them. Constantine mentioned that praying to them could just be talking to them, they’re not Yahweh, they’re not Allah, they don’t abide by those rules.

So, you didn’t either. You thanked them for the blessings they gave you, hoped they were well, and told them about your day, leaving them with a bowl of sliced apples and some flowers, deciding to visit the rest of the country while you still had a few days of vacation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Went to Mars, almost got killed by Martians, got the shit beaten out of me for trying to help the Titan, got half of Teen Team- er… the new Guardians in hospital. Also, his one guy in the college was kidnapping male students he saw as peak alpha males and modifying them to essentially turn them into robocops wannabes consisting of no free will and mech bodies, including William’s boyfriend, for the betterment of the human race.” Marks sighs tiredly. “Amber and I broke up and made up again. Told her I’m Invincible… she knew.”

Debbie just looked at her son, before turning to look at you. Maybe she should stop asking how everyone’s day was. “Don’t look at me like that, ma. For once I had a normal day. Visited a lot of places in Romania after finding a little nook for my altar and got some presents for you two and our friends.” You shrug as you take another bite of food. “How was your day?”

Your mother smiles. Well, maybe she shouldn’t, it was the little normality she had in her life. “Sold a penthouse to a billionaire who had a set of all gold teeth.” You snort at that. “That’s one way to show off.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Since sunrise Mark has been searching for his dad and once he did, he immediately tackled him, rolling through the air for a bit before stopping. “Where have you been?! Why haven’t you said anything?” Nolan didn’t get to respond Mark continued. “Are you cheating on mom? Do you have a second family or something?”

“What?! Of course not! Why would you-“ Nolan stutters at the audacity. “Because one day you just decided to up and disappear! You barely come home anymore- Do you even love us anymore? I need you to think about it before you answer- really consider it, because I want you to mean it truthfully- Do you love us?”

The older Viltrumite couldn’t hide the shock, the anguish as he actually thought about it. Loving them meant going against his mission- to a small degree, sure, he could still finish it- but- “Yes... I-I do. I truly love your mother and you deeply. I love your sister just as much. You three are very important to me.”

“Then stop this- nonsense!” Mark waved his arms around. “You’ve been missing for almost two months, barely come home to sleep- You know how paranoid my sister is, she’s making plans over plans on how to take you down because she thinks you snapped and are trying to conquer the planet.”

“She thinks I plan to conquer Earth?” Nolan asks softly, hands clenching at his side. “Yes! She thinks me and mom don’t know but I found her encrypted files- she thinks now that you know the Viltrumites can create offsprings that have powers with humans, you have started making plans to take over. She thinks you killed the Guardians because they could have slowed you down, maybe even stopped you- she thinks you’ll come to me and ask me to help- that you’ll come clean and confess that the Viltrumites are- are these-“

Mark couldn’t finish… How could he? You didn’t come up with these ideas out of thin air- you had evidence. Circumstantial evidence- but it still was so compelling, too many coincidences to be just nothing. “She made plans that could take me down, too. Just in case I would accept to help you- she’s gone mad, dad. And- and I started to believe it too.”

Mark looks at his father, straight in his eyes. “So I need you to come home, to talk to us- I don’t want to believe it- I don’t want to think that you’d ask me to do such bullshit.” The young man clenched his fist. “Please tell me she’s wrong- because if she isn’t- I won’t help you. I’ll do anything to stop yo-“ Mark didn’t finish as Nolan threw a punch, breaking his mask and making him bite his cheek.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Honestly, Eve, I can’t believe you didn’t dump Rex the first time he cheated.” You sipped on your soft drink as you walked with Eve. “I know- It’s just- we both-“ She tried to come up with a reason, just a tiny one to try and keep her pride. “You both got your powers in a lab- yes. I know. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve the respect of a man. And I can’t believe Kat jumped at the first opportunity- is the ‘not your bestie’s ex’ not in the girl rulebook anymore?”

As Eve opened her mouth to respond to that, what came out was a gasp of shock as her eyes caught the fight happening on the news. “What? Are the news more import-“ As you tuned to look behind you at the TVs in the electronics shop your mouth dropped with the drink you were holding.

The flashing pictures of Mark and the Immortal fighting furiously against Nolan make your blood run cold. The robot cameras that were flying around the men managed to pick up some of the conversation, mostly Immortal furiously yelling but- “This isn’t you! You don’t want to do this! You just feel like you have no choice, but you do!” they caught Mark too.

“Is your dad being mind-controlled?” Eve asks, clearly worried as she looks at you. “No…” Is all you say before you disappear with a breeze of air. It wasn’t a good idea to travel via magic right now. Eve caught a glimpse of Omni-man decapitating The Immortal before she changed into her costume and tried to keep up with you.

Somewhere in space, the League of Justice and Laughing Magician could only watch in terror as the news kept up with the man and his son. “Please don’t… Please don’t try and stop him.” John’s whispered payers were met only with Batman’s suspicious glare. “We should go and help!” Superman’s worried pleas was quickly shut down.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mark couldn’t register everything his father yelled at him as they fought through the air, and he definitely could not after being thrown into the ground and punched twice. But he could answer one question. “You and her… I’d still have you and my sister, dad.” And Nolan hesitated on his third punch. But you didn’t.

Your hit threw Nolan off Mark, making the older man crash into a crater of his own. You didn’t let him get a break. “I trusted you! We all did!” Punch after punch, the ground beneath his head created a bigger and bigger hole. “Mom and Mark love you! I love you! And you go and chose them?!”

You didn’t even notice when John Constantine popped in, almost stumbling through the portal as he ran to your brother, racking his brain for every healing spell he could use. He didn’t care that Bruce would corner him when he went back and interrogate him about this, not when you needed him.

“What is so important about them that we didn’t give you?! You haven’t seen them in years-“ Your yelling cracked as you sobbed, your tears mixing with the blood of the man. Why didn’t he choose you? “Why not us? Why them?! Why are you letting me beat the shit out of you?!” As your hands clenched above your head in a double axe handle motion, ready to turn his face into mush, you’re stopped by your brother’s voice calling your name.

Your fury turns to fear and worry as you look towards him, getting up just to stumble towards him and John. Your tears clouded your vision as you fell to your knees by Mark, gently holding his hand as you inquired about him. “I’m fine- just like, five punches to the head and a throw to the ground.” He croaked out, flinching slightly as his nose set back into place while John continued doing his best to heal the young man.

“In other universes, you either die or get the snot and spline beaten outta ya- this is so much better kid.” Constantine immediately cringes at his words, his eyes meeting yours as he instantly apologizes. “- I should have told you, hen-“

The sound of the sonic boom doesn’t even make you flinch. If Nolan wanted to run away, that was fine by you. “I knew. Nobody is that kind just to help out of the goodness of their hearts.” You said softly, reassuring him with a squeeze of his arm. “I should have done more. Should have told the Guardians or someone about my suspicions, my plans on how to deal with him-”

“You made contingency plans?” At your stutter and confused look, Mark could only laugh, immediately getting what the man meant. The rumors of Batman’s paranoia were true after all. “She even made a few for me in case I accepted.” John huffed in amusement at that. “Well- then we better keep you away from the Bat, he may just adopt you.” Some of the League’s members couldn’t hold in their laughs at the utter disgust your face showed. “With my track record of father figures you better keep the furry as far away from me as possible.” Constantine could hear Hal's laughter from where he sat as she finished speaking.

“We should get going before Cecil shows up.” You sigh while helping Mark get up. “We’re moving again? I just got here…” Eve said as she finally landed, getting Mark’s other side. “You both were hard to find, and I missed everything.”

“No need- I can help with that.” John groans as he gets up, brushing his pants off before he opens a portal to Mark’s home. “Alright, let’s get the lad home.” He lets the kids through first, and before he steps in too, he makes sure to flip off the robot cameras, just for Bruce.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou

#dc x invincible #dc crossover #invincible crossover #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x neglected reader #yandere invincible #neglected reader #yandere batfamily #fem!reader #female!reader #yandere!mark grayson #yandere!debbie grayson #yandere!nolan grayson

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v6quewrlds · 4 months ago

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LOVE ME NOT, JUSTIN HERBERT.

pairing⠀⁎⠀justin herbert x reader. word count⠀⁎⠀3.3k.

summary⠀⁎⠀justin isn't a jealous guy. at least that's what he thinks until his girlfriend catches everyone's attention.

author's note⠀⁎⠀pouty, moody pisces men >>> warnings⠀⁎⠀18+ mdni, smut, oral (m. receiving), 3rd person (she/her)

"Sweetheart, can you grab the ketchup from the fridge?" Justin's voice carried over the sizzle of the grill, where the aroma of barbecue ribs filled the air.

She looked up from her conversation with Quentin and nodded with a warm smile. She stepped away from the chattering group, the coolness of the kitchen a welcome reprieve from the heat outside. Her eyes scanned the crowded countertop, searching for the condiment. The fridge door swung open, revealing a wall of beer, White Claws, and a lonely gallon of almond milk. She grabbed the ketchup and a few beers before heading back out to the party.

The yard buzzed with laughter, the crackle of the firepit, and the occasional clink of bottles as the team's end-of-season celebrations filled the backyard with both sound and light. She, ever the diligent host, circulated among the guests, making sure everyone had a plate piled with food and a drink in hand. Her bright smile and gentle voice eased the tension that often accompanied the hyper-masculine atmosphere, to the relief of the handful of partners that dotted the concrete nearest to the pool.

Her eyes searched for Justin, finding him in a huddle with a few of his teammates, his broad shoulders shaking with laughter at something one of the guys had said. The sight of him, so at ease and so obviously enjoying himself, filled her heart with joy. During the season, relaxation was a luxury that came in fleeting moments, and she reveled in the rare occasion where she could see him truly unwind. She approached with the ketchup and beers, setting the ketchup down on the table next to him before handing a beer to Ladd who stood nearby.

Justin watched out of the corner of his eye as she was pulled away again by a guest, a hand on her lower back guiding her to refill their drink. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes anymore, his jaw tightening as he returned his focus to the grill. The laughter around him seemed to fade into the background as he felt the warmth of his jealousy spread from his chest to his fingertips.

It was an odd, ugly feeling, one that didn't often rear its head in their relationship, but as she slipped away again, the pang of something unpleasant struck him. He knew he had no right to feel this way—she was being a fantastic host, after all—but he couldn't shake the feeling that he would much rather her be at his side. Between the way the others touched her arm, leaning in to hear her stories, and the way she lit up their faces with her welcoming aura, it was like a simmering burn in his chest. He knew it was irrational, but the more he saw her interact with his teammates, so far away from him, the more possessive he felt.

The party wound down as the night grew darker, and the guests started to trickle home. She moved around efficiently, her movements a little slower now as the exhaustion of the day began to show. Justin watched her, his mood growing heavier with each plate she cleared. It was only when they were almost alone, just the two of them and the last few stragglers, that he realized he hadn't had a real conversation with her in hours.

"Hey, let's grab the rest of the dishes," she suggested, her voice a little softer than it had been earlier. She looked over at him with a question in her eyes, noticing the tension he hadn't quite managed to hide.

Justin nodded, a forced smile plastered on his face as he turned off the grill and began to pack up the leftover food. Together, they brought the plates and cups into the kitchen, the clinking of silverware echoing through the room. She started to wash the dishes, and warm water and soap bubbles coated her hands. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes searching for any sign of what was really going on.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Justin's eyes met hers for a brief moment before he turned away to put the last of the clean plates into the cupboard with a little more force than necessary. "Yeah, just tired," he murmured, hoping she wouldn't see through the facade.

She frowned, her gaze lingering on his stiff posture. "You've been acting weird since everyone started leaving," she said, her voice low and concerned. "What's going on?"

Justin sighed, his hand pausing on the cupboard door. He turned to face her, his expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "It's nothing, babe. Don't worry about it," he said, his voice gruffer than he intended.

But she knew him better than that. She stepped closer, setting down the dish towel she had been holding. "Justin," she said gently, reaching out to touch his arm. "You're obviously upset about something. Is it something I did?"

He looked at her hand on his arm, the warmth of her touch penetrating the barrier he'd put up. "It's just..." he began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. "I don't know, I just... I saw how much attention you were giving everyone else tonight, and I guess I got a little possessive."

Her eyes widened, surprise and confusion flickering across her face. "Possessive?" she echoed. "Of what?"

Justin couldn't help the way his gaze roved over her, taking in her figure in the snug sundress she'd picked out for the occasion. "You looked amazing today," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Everyone couldn't take their eyes off of you. I just... I wanted you all to myself."

Her expression softened as she understood the root of his discomfort. She stepped closer, sliding her hand around his waist. "You know I only have eyes for you," she murmured, her head tilting back to study his tense expression. "You're the one I come home to, the one who makes me laugh until my stomach hurts."

Justin's gaze fell to her lips, his own mouth curving into a half-smile. "I know," he admitted, his arms wrapping around her in a loose embrace. "It's just... I don't know. It's dumb." Almost absentmindedly, he leaned down to kiss her, a soft brush of his lips against hers that spoke volumes.

She didn't miss the undercurrent of insecurity in his words. She knew that Justin's life was in the spotlight, where his every move was scrutinized and commented on. Maybe, in that moment, he felt like he was losing her, the only aspect of his life that was meant to be saved just for him, to the very people who had become his family. She reached up, placing her free hand on his cheek. "You're not being dumb," she whispered, her eyes searching his. "I'm yours, and I always will be."

"I know," Justin murmured, his eyes darkening with something more than just insecurity. He kissed her again, this time with more urgency, his hands gripping her hips firmly. She felt the kitchen counter dig into her thighs as he lifted her onto it, his body pressing against hers. Suddenly, all that mattered was the feel of him, his mouth on hers, his hands roaming over her body like he hadn't felt her in weeks instead of hours.

The kitchen around them grew hazy, the sounds of the night outside fading away as they lost themselves in the moment. Justin's kisses grew more demanding, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts, his thumbs grazing her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress. She gasped, her own hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

"Justin," she breathed out his name as his hands roamed, her body responding to his touch like a wildfire to dry grass. The dishes and the cleanup were forgotten as their kisses grew more intense, their need for each other burning away any shred of self-control they had left. "Let's go to the bedroom," she suggested, her voice low and urgent.

But Justin didn't move, his gaze dark and possessive. "I want you here," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin, making her shiver. His hand slid up her thigh, the fabric of her dress riding up with it, revealing the soft edge of her underwear.

"Here?" she questioned, her voice breathy as his hand inched closer to the apex of her thighs. His warm hands yanked at the waistband of her panties, pulling them down just enough to expose her to the cool kitchen air.

"Here," he confirmed, his voice gruff with want. His hand found its way between her legs, his fingers stroking her in slow, deliberate circles that made her eyes roll back in her head. "I need to know that you're mine," he whispered against her skin, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. "That no one else gets to make you feel like this."

Her breath hitched as his fingers delved deeper, the sensation of his touch sending waves of pleasure through her. She couldn't suppress the moan that escaped her lips as he began to move more insistently, his thumb rubbing her clit in a steady rhythm that had her hips rocking against his hand.

"Oh," she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. Her body was a live wire, every nerve ending alight with desire for him. She could feel the tension in his muscles as he held her against the counter, his own need palpable. His kisses grew more fervent, his tongue sliding into her mouth to tangle with hers as his other hand slipped under her dress to squeeze her plush thighs.

The kitchen lights cast a warm glow over them, their shadows dancing on the floor. Her legs parted wider, inviting him closer, her breaths coming in pants that matched the rhythm of his touch. She could feel the heat of him against her, his arousal pressing into her through his shorts. It was intoxicating, the way he claimed her so blatantly, so desperately.

"That's it," Justin groaned, his eyes dark with need as he watched her body respond to his touch. He stepped closer, the heat of his body searing hers as he slipped his fingers into her wetness. Her eyes closed, her head falling back as she let out a soft moan that seemed to echo in the quiet kitchen. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with appreciation.

He slid his fingers in and out of her, the tension in his body grew, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. He knew he should take this to the bedroom, where they could fully let go, but the thrill of claiming her here—where everyone had seen her be the perfect host—was too tempting to resist.

With a growl, Justin lifted her off the counter, onto her feet, and spun her around, her chest now pressing against the cold, hard surface. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as his hands slid down to her hips, pulling her back against him. Ruby could feel his hard length pushing into her, the friction sending shivers down her spine. She reached back, her hands fumbling with his belt, desperate to feel him inside her.

He stepped away just enough to allow her to drop to her knees, her dress pooling around her like a puddle of ink. The sound of his zipper echoed in the kitchen, and she took a deep breath before looking up at him with hooded eyes. His cock sprang free, thick and pulsing with desire. "Take it," he murmured, his hand guiding her head closer.

She parted her lips, her tongue flicking out to taste him. The salt of his skin mixed with the sweetness of his precum, and she couldn't help but moan. She took him into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his. The way he watched her, the way his chest rose and fell with every shallow breath, it was like he was memorizing every moment of this.

Justin's hand threaded through her hair, guiding her as he groaned out in pleasure. The kitchen floor was hard and cold beneath her knees, but she didn't care. All she could focus on was the feel of him, the taste of him, the way he was watching her with such desire. She took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing with each suck. His grip tightened, his breathing growing ragged.

Her eyes watered, Justin's grip on her hair tightening as his thrusts grew more urgent. She could feel the head of his cock hit the back of her throat with each stroke. His sweat-slicked skin smelled faintly of smoke and his cologne, a new scent she had gifted him for Christmas. It was fitting, she decided, that she'd be kneeling before him like this, when he smelled so heavenly, her choice of scent on him.

Justin's hand slid from her hair to her neck, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw as he whispered, "You're doing so good for me, baby," his voice was a mix of love and lust. She moaned around him at the sound of his praise, feeling her own arousal build as she watched his face contort in pleasure.

With a final, deep thrust, Justin pulled out of her mouth. He hoisted her back onto the kitchen island, her legs wrapping around his waist as he positioned himself at her entrance. Her fingers dug into his back, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as he pressed into her, all passion and urgency. The kitchen light glinted off the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead, the muscles in his neck and shoulders standing out as he drove into her.

Her dress was hiked up around her waist, the fabric clinging to her damp skin. His hands found purchase on her thighs, his grip firm as he pushed deeper, his movements unyielding and possessive. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the room, mingling with their ragged breaths and the occasional clink of a forgotten dish. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head falling back as she gave herself over to the sensation.

"All fuckin' mine, baby," Justin grunted, his eyes never leaving hers as he claimed her in the most primal way possible. The countertop was cold against her back, but she barely noticed, lost in the heat of their passion. Her thighs spread for him, the smack of his skin against hers punctuating each thrust. Her hands strained for something to hold onto, finally whimpering softly to catch his attention.

He cursed under his breath, roughly biting his bottom lip before bringing his hips to an agonizing still. Justin shifted her position, bringing her ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new angle sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through her, making her cry out. He leaned over to hold her hands, bending slightly at the waist, his pecs flexing with the effort.

"Look at me," he ordered, his voice thick with desire. Her eyes locked on his obediently. Green, blue, and hazel was brimmed with a hunger that was both thrilling and terrifying, a raw, animalistic need that seemed to consume him. It was unlike anything she had ever seen in him before, and it sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold countertop.

Justin's eyes never left hers as he began to move again, his strokes long and deep. Her eyes grew wide with each thrust, her breaths coming in short gasps. The sensation was almost too much, the stretch and the burn and the feeling of being filled so completely by him. But she never looked away, not even when the pleasure grew so intense she thought she might shatter.

"Nobody gets to make you feel like this," Justin reiterated, his voice strained as he pushed into her with a fierce determination. His eyes searched hers, as if seeking confirmation of his claim.

Her chest heaved with each thrust. She felt the muscles in her core tighten, the beginnings of an orgasm building like a storm at sea. "I'm yours," she whispered, her voice barely a murmur. "All yours."

He watched her pupils dilate, her mouth part in silent cries of ecstasy. It was intoxicating, the power he had over her in this moment, the way she surrendered to him completely. His hips slammed into hers, the kitchen light making her skin glisten against his. He blew out a puff of hair, mildly annoyed at a strand that had fallen into his face.

The tension grew, tightening in the air around them. Her eyes fluttered closed, and Justin took the opportunity to lean down, his mouth capturing hers in a rough, possessive kiss. She could feel herself almost fold in half, his length sliding into her so deep she thought she might split apart.

"Don't stop," she panted into his mouth, her nails raking down his back. The words were barely a whisper, but they were all the encouragement he needed. Justin's hips picked up speed, the slapping of skin on skin growing louder in the quiet kitchen.

Her walls clamped down on him, and he knew she was close. He reached down, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing in firm, steady circles. "Come for me," he murmured against her ear, the words a command and a plea all rolled into one.

Her body tensed, a soft keening sound escaping her throat. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she bit down on her lower lip to muffle her cries as the orgasm crashed over her, wave after wave of pure bliss. Her nails scored down his back, her hips bucking against him as she rode the crest of pleasure. Justin's eyes never left hers, his own climax spilling over the edge as he watched her shatter underneath him.

They remained like that for a moment, panting and trembling, their hearts hammering in sync with one another. Sweat beaded on their skin, the kitchen lights glinting off the droplets that had formed on Justin's chest and neck. Her dress was a wrinkled mess around her waist, and her makeup—or what was left of it after a long day outside—was smudged from their kisses. But in that moment, she felt more beautiful than she ever had in her life.

Justin hissed lightly, holding her in place as his cock throbbed deep inside her. He kissed her neck, her jaw, her collarbone, his lips a trail of fire that left her skin feeling branded. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "I think I got a little carried away."

Her eyes remained closed, her breaths still coming in gasps. She could feel the tremor in his body, the aftershocks of his release. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice filled with a tired contentment. "It was hot."

Justin chuckled, his body still tense with the remnants of his orgasm. He kissed her forehead, his hands sliding down to rest on the countertop on either side of her hips. "I guess it's a good thing we don't throw parties often," he said, his voice lighter now.

She couldn't help but laugh, the sound a little shaky. "If this is what you're gonna do when we throw a party, we should start having them every weekend," she teased, wincing as he pulled hesitantly, his release slowly leaking out of her.

An embarrassed shade of pink dusted over the bridge of Justin's nose and spilled over onto his cheeks. "I don't know if our kitchen could handle that," he quipped, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. He kissed her nose, setting her back down on her shaky legs. She stepped closer to him, hands sliding over his shoulders. She kissed him slowly, giggling softly when his hands moved from her hips to straighten out her dress in an effort to make up for his behavior.

"Let's go clean up," she said, her voice still a little breathless. Justin nodded, his eyes dropping to her lips briefly before scooping her into a bridal carry, making her squeal with surprise and delight.

#&. cassie writes.#justin herbert #justin herbert fluff #justin herbert smut #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x black!reader #justin herbert x reader #x black reader #black!reader #black reader

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amourquinn · 7 months ago

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( drabble ) imperfect for you

pairing : boyfriend!quinn x fem!reader wc. 800+

genre : fluff and angst warnings : quinn feeling insecure

summary : quinn comes back home after a tough loss

quinn hughes was quiet when he stepped through the door of your shared apartment. the soft click of the door shutting seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness of the room. you sat curled up on the couch, wearing one of his oversized hoodies, waiting for him. you hadn’t heard from him since the game ended, but the look on his face when he walked in told you everything you needed to know:

the canucks had lost.

his usually bright eyes were dull, his shoulders slumped under the weight of disappointment. he dropped his hockey bag by the door, the sound of it hitting the floor making you wince. he didn’t even bother to take off his shoes before trudging toward the kitchen.

you bit your lip, unsure of how to approach him. quinn wasn’t the type to lash out after a loss, but you knew he internalized every mistake, every missed opportunity. he’d probably already gone through the game in his head a dozen times, dissecting every shift. it broke your heart to see him like this, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“hey,” you called softly, rising from the couch and padding toward him. he was leaning against the counter, his hands gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

“hey,” he replied, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

you stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. the silence stretched between you like a chasm, and you hated it. quinn deserved to feel whatever he was feeling, but you couldn’t just stand by and watch him drown in it.

“i made your favorite,” you said tentatively, motioning toward the table where a plate of pasta sat waiting. “figured you might need some comfort food.”

he glanced at the plate, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smile. “thanks,” he murmured, but he didn’t move.

you stepped closer, hesitating for a moment before wrapping your arms around his waist. his body tensed at first, but then he relaxed into your embrace, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder.

“i’m sorry, quinn,” you whispered, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his back. “i know how much you wanted to win.”

“it’s not just that,” he admitted, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “i feel like i let everyone down. the team, the fans… you.”

you pulled back just enough to cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “quinn, stop. you didn’t let me down. you could never let me down.”

his eyes searched yours, vulnerable and unsure, like he was trying to believe you but didn’t quite know how.

“you’re so hard on yourself,” you continued, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones. “but you’re not alone in this. it’s okay to be upset, but don’t let it consume you. you’re still the same guy i love, whether you win or lose.”

his breath hitched at your words, and he pulled you back into his arms, holding you tighter this time. “i don’t deserve you,” he muttered.

“stop that,” you scolded gently, though your heart ached at the raw emotion in his voice. “i’m here because i love you, quinn. wins, losses, and everything in between.”

for a while, the two of you just stood there, holding onto each other like you were the only solid thing in a world that felt like it was spinning out of control. eventually, you coaxed him to sit down at the table, and he reluctantly started eating the pasta you’d made. you sat across from him, keeping the conversation light, telling him about your day, anything to distract him from the heaviness in his chest.

by the time he’d finished eating, some of the tension had eased from his shoulders. he leaned back in his chair, watching you with an expression that was softer now, less burdened.

“you’re amazing, you know that?” he said, his voice tinged with awe.

“i try,” you teased, grinning at him. “but seriously, quinn, you don’t have to carry everything on your own. i’m here for you, always.”

he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. his fingers were calloused and warm, and the way he held onto you felt like an unspoken promise.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he said quietly.

“you’ll never have to find out,” you replied, squeezing his hand.

later, as you curled up together on the couch, his head resting in your lap, you ran your fingers through his hair, soothing him like you always did when he was stressed. the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the tv in the background, and for the first time that night, quinn looked at peace.

“i love you,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut.

“i love you too,” you replied, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

and in that moment, with quinn safe in your arms, the weight of the loss didn’t seem quite so heavy anymore.

#[ 📁 ] drabble #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fic #nhl hockey #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes angst

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pitchsidestories · 14 days ago

Text

Scrapbook memories II Grace Clinton x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1654

summary: Reader who plays for Lyon surprises her girlfriend Grace by appearing at a dinner with the fellow Lionesses in England. requested

author's note: Hi, we started writing this before Mary Earps international retirement and Millie Bright’s withdrawal from the Euros, which is why they still appear in the story. We hope you don’t mind and still like it regardless.<3

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

You were convinced that what made the English Women’s National Team so special was their team spirit. There was something magical about how every player genuinely cared for one another. You absolutely adored it.

To keep that connection strong, the team often organised casual team nights together. They were always full of laughter, good food, and even better conversations but since you had left the WSL to play for Lyon, you often missed out on most of those nights. But tonight, you decided that it was time to join.

This time, it all took place at Alex Greenwoods place. Just a relaxed dinner with all the Lionesses.

Alex was busy, stirring pots and seasoning dishes while Lauren and Jess chopped vegetables at the counter.

“Y/n is late, as usual.”, Alex said, pausing for a moment as she glanced over the crowd filling her flat.

“I was on time. At the wrong door but on time.”, Lauren chimed in, gesturing a little too wildly with her knife, causing Alex to suck in a breath and widen her eyes.

Jess laughed: “That’s so typical for you, Hempo. You always do that.”

The she turned sharply: “Millie, no! No snacking yet.”

She tried to bat away Millie Brights hand who had managed to successfully steal a piece of raw carrot from the chopping board.

Millie rolled her eyes, stealing a carrot anyway: “It takes forever for you girls to cook. The Arsenal girls are already bored.”

She pointed her thumb over her shoulder toward the living room where most of the other players were caught up in some small talk.

“Children, behave,” Alex warned playfully. “And no, Leah, we won’t have any ham sandwiches. They taste like nothing.”

“Excuse me?”, the team captain who had just walked in said, pretending to be offended.

From the living room, Beth called out: “But she won’t eat real adult food.”

“It’s adult f-…”, Leah started, then cut herself off and quickly looked around for help, “Grace, come here. Stop looking at the door. You agree with me, right?”

“What?”, Grace asked, torn from her own thoughts, only reluctantly turning to the blond defender.

“We need your opinion on ham sandwiches.”, Leah repeated impatiently.

“I have no opinion on them.”, Grace replied, smiling but clearly confused by the interaction.

Alex clapped her hands once with authority: “We’re done cooking. Everyone out of my kitchen.”

All the players were scrambling to their seats as Alex carried dishes to the table. Only Grace hung back, still preoccupied with her own thoughts.

You walked straight into the chaos that had erupted around the giant dinner table, and you immediately felt a warmth in your chest that reminded you of home.

“Hi. Sorry, I know I’m late again, but I brought those gorgeous flowers for the hostess.”, you said and greeted Alex with a hug and a quick kiss to her cheek.

The defender took a moment to admire the tasteful bouquet in her hands before turning her attention back to you. “Oh, you just know how to impress a girl.”

“You’re welcome. It’s great to have you back in the team, Al.”, you replied, gently squeezing her shoulder.

She chuckled warmly: “Glad to be back.”

“Now that we’re complete, we can finally start eating,” Alessia said.

You were genuinely grateful to be reunited with the familiar faces who, over time, had become like a second family. After everything you'd been through together, on and off the pitch, they were your people.

And yet, even in this comforting chaos, your eyes were searching for the woman you loved most.

You rarely kept secrets from your England teammates, but this one was different. Maybe it was finally time to share it. And there she was: Grace, leaning casually against the wall, that cocky smile of hers playing at the corners of her lips. It wasn’t just a grin; it was an invitation.

You and Grace had talked about telling them. The timing felt right. So, you walked towards her, ready to take her hand and speak the truth.

But Grace had something else in mind.

She believed in gestures, ones that didn’t need explanations. So, when you reached her, she pulled you in and kissed you, soft but sure, with all the quiet affection that words would never quite capture.

The room fell still.

Then gasping. Eyes widened.

It was Leah who found her voice first: “What is happening?!”

“Oh my god, you two are dating?!”, Lauren squealed.

“We... uhm. I wasn’t expecting her here.”, Grace admitted, still slightly breathless. That part was true, planned to surprise her with your visit here.

Teasingly, you asked: “Because the Lionesses party was in Manchester?”

“Yes! The London girls are here too, but Lyon is...”, Grace trailed off, flustered, an adorable blush creeping up her cheeks.

The distance between you had always been a challenge, something you discussed often. But if Keira and Laura could manage it and Lucy and Ona, too, then so could you. Your love was strong, and you were lucky enough to see each other at England camps and rare free days.

“I travelled with Lessi and Leah from London to Manchester, but one of them was too clumsy, which is why I had to get new flowers for Alex.”, you explained, smirking.

An innocent smile appeared on Alessia’s lips: “It wasn’t me.”

“That absolutely sounds like something you’d do.”, Ella remarked, eyeing her best friend with theatrical suspicion.

Sheepishly, the blonde replied: “Me? I was innocent!”

“Can we talk about the flowers later?”, Leah cut in impatiently. “How and when did the two of you even get together?”

Even though everyone had been starving just moments ago and the dinner was lovingly decorated with mouth-watering dishes none of them made a move. Right now, their hunger was for answers. Concerning your romance.

Grace ignored their questions, whether on purpose or not, she was still staring at you.

“I didn’t think you would even come…”, she said slowly, as if still trying to make sense of your presence.

You tilted your head with a shy smile and admitted: “Me neither. I thought you might be busy. It’s been a while since we last saw each other.”

“When you didn’t show up…”, Grace started but you never found out what she wanted to say. Leah cut her off.

“Hello? Lovebirds? We want some answers!”, she demanded, snapping the two of you out of the little bubble where only you and Grace seemed to exist.

“Oh.”, Grace said, blinking rapidly in surprise, like she’d only just noticed the rest of the room that there were other people in the room too.

You smiled at her one more time before you tore away your gaze and turned to Leah: “What did you want to know again?”

“How you two met!”

“Obviously through a lionesses camp.”, Grace replied with a wry grin.

Lucy scrunched up her face and gave the two of you a disbelieving look: “Why didn’t we notice? You’re both not very good at keeping secrets.”

You shrugged innocently: “You girls were just really blind.”

“Yeah, you were.”, Grace agreed, chuckling.

Lucy didn’t look impressed. She shook her head: “No, I can see very well now. Even without my glasses.”

The joke was right on the tip of your tongue, ready to be delivery but Khiara beat you to it, a cheeky smirk on her lips: “Are you sure? You’re pretty old.”

Lucy shot the young goalkeeper a challenging look, daring her to say that again.

Alex cut in and pretended to sharply glance at Khiara: “Khi, respect your elders.”

Grace laughed quietly, turning back to you. Her eyes were soft and there was a warm fondness in her voice: “They are so chaotic again.” Then a bit quieter: “But I missed you.”

You beamed at her, pressing another quick kiss to her lips, unnoticed by the rest of the team: “I missed you too. And their chaos.”

“Same, it’s never boring with them.”, she said and took a step behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. Resting her chin on your shoulder, she held you tightly as the team erupted into a debate about age and respect.

“Not even in four weeks of camp?”, you teased, grinning.

Grace took a moment before declaring: “It’ll be tough, but I’ll be with you. So, it’s going to be alright.”

You didn’t hear the gasps or the jokes still echoing from the table. All you saw was her and the quiet, certain smile that always brought you home.

Grace cleared her throat, a little flustered: “So, uhm... what exactly are we celebrating again?”

“It’s an End-of-Season, Everyone-Is-Healthy, and Euros-Camp-Is-Starting-Soon party!”, Ella chimed in, almost bouncing in her seat.

Grace managed to find a glass and lifted it, grinning: “Cheers to that!”

“I support that too.”, you whispered in her ear, your smile matching hers.

Millie clapped excitedly: “Let’s get this party started!”

“Finally! Mary let’s dance.”, Alessia grinned, dragging the keeper toward the living room, now a makeshift dance floor. Leah had already taken over the speaker, blasting one of her matchday playlists.

Mary shot Leah a look over her shoulder: “Louder!”

Grace leaned in close, her voice low and warm: “So... dance floor or kitchen?”

You paused, pretending to weigh it up: “Let’s go to the kitchen.”

“Yes! I’m starving for more kis—” She didn’t get to finish.

“Grace!” Alex cut in sharply, clicking her tongue. “There are children at this table.”

“Do you mean me? Rude.”, Khiara pouted.

Alex gestured broadly at the entire table: “I meant all the children here.”

“Why are you looking at me?!”, Lucy protested, laughing.

You glanced over your shoulder, smiling at the team in all their chaotic glory before slipping into the kitchen.

“Finally, some peace.”, you said.

“I could stay here all night.”, Grace hummed, then kissed you softly, a kiss that said more than words ever could.

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