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happy74827 · 8 months

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Parallel Hearts

[Marty Mcfly x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Just as he was about to leave for good, Marty finds himself at a standstill because of you.

WC: 1,595

Category: Fluff

I always wanted to write about the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance and now I have. Enjoy!

『••✎••』

“Marty, that was very interesting music.”

The words were uttered in a tone that was as dry as a desert, but Marty didn’t care to take heed of it, for he had a mission – and that was to get home as fast as he could.

He knew Doc was waiting for him at the clock tower, with the DeLorean fully hooked up and ready to go. His face was probably set and grim, too. In fact, Marty was certain Doc would be more than a little concerned, since Marty had been away much longer than he had told him.

But he had to make sure he was going to be able to return back to 1985, so what did it matter if he spent an extra ten minutes just to make sure he was still going to exist?

Besides, the old-fashioned audience actually appreciated his guitar skills (for the most part), and it felt good to be noticed, even if it wasn't the type of audience he was used to. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

And so… Marty was going to leave this outdated time period behind with a smile and return back to 1985, the town Hill Valley that he had grown up in, where he had his best friend who knew him, his frenemy, his parents, and the life that he loved.

He was going to return to the Hill Valley he called home, but then he saw you.

He had only met you a couple of times before, but he recognized you instantly. It was hard to forget the young woman that was so dedicated and so determined to help him out in his mission, despite being completely clueless about it. You had helped him a great deal with setting up George and Lorraine, and the way you had helped him was something he could never repay.

He couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of regret when he thought of his rushed adventure in the past, because he had never gotten the chance to get to know you. He was just aware of your name and that you were a good friend of Lorraine.

“Leaving so soon?” you asked, the smile on your lips soft and gentle. Your eyes sparkled in a way that was very familiar, and he remembered how Lorraine had looked at him when he first approached her.

It wasn't exactly the same look, but there was a spark of something in your eyes that made Marty stop in his tracks.

Maybe it was a mistake to linger, because he knew that his life was quite literally on the line. And yet, here he was, doing just that.

“Uh, yes?” he replied, feeling like an absolute fool for being so tongue-tied. He could barely manage to get a word out, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He was usually cool under pressure, but right now, he was anything but cool.

Your expression softened, and you looked at him with such sympathy that it made his heart ache. He could feel a blush slowly creeping up his cheeks.

It didn’t make any sense, he didn't even know you! And yet, it was as though there was a connection. It wasn’t something physical, or something tangible, but something deeper and more meaningful.

Marty couldn’t understand his strange thoughts, or the way his heart was racing so fast. The sensation was unfamiliar, and it was almost as though he was experiencing his own life from an outsider's perspective.

It was strange, and not something that was easy to describe. But one thing was certain...

He really did want to get to know you.

You tilted your head slightly, a look of amusement crossing your features. He realized then that he had been silent for a long time.

"Are you alright?" you asked, reaching out and placing your hand on his arm. "You look a little lost."

“What? No! I mean, yes. Yeah, I'm… peachy." he replied quickly, trying his best to regain some semblance of composure. "I, uh, just wanted to thank you again for helping me out with the whole Lorraine and… uh, George situation. It worked, and they're together... in love. Soon, they'll get married and have three kids, and hopefully this time be a happy family.”

He could see your confusion at his words, but you hid it well as a smile spread across your face. "That’s… very specific, but I’m glad it worked out. Lorraine really needed someone who would cherish her. She's a very sweet girl."

There was a long silence, and Marty felt his heart thumping wildly against his chest. It was so loud that he was certain you could hear it.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. It wasn’t working.

One thought told him that he needed to go. The other urged him to stay.

A strange mixture of fear and anticipation made his heart pound even faster. He glanced around the room, searching for an escape route.

It would be easier to walk away now and forget about you. He knew he couldn’t afford to dally, not when Doc was waiting for him at the clock tower. He would probably have a heart attack if he was kept waiting any longer.

Marty turned to look at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. "I should, uh… really be going," he said, his voice faltering. "It's been really nice to see you again."

Before he could take another step, though, you reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

Marty turned to look at you, and was surprised by the intensity in your eyes.

"Can you spare one dance?" you asked, giving him a small smile. "Just one. It'll be quick, I promise."

He had a feeling it would be a bad idea. He was on a deadline, and time was running out. He was also supposed to be avoiding any form of contact with people from the past. It could change history, and he couldn't risk making another mistake.

But wouldn’t it be a mistake if he walked away from you?

What if the reason he felt this strange connection was because he was meant to get to know you? What if it was a sign that he was destined to meet you, and that he shouldn't walk away?

Marty took a deep breath, and decided that, for once, he was going to go against his better judgement and follow his heart.

Doc would probably hate him for it, but Marty didn’t care. What he did care about was the way your smile brightened when he caved and allowed you to drag him back.

He was slightly irritated with the fact that the band was still playing without that guitar, as it meant they completely bullshitted him on the whole 'can’t play without Marvin' thing, but when he took your hand in his, he forgot what he was mad about, and found himself getting swept away by the moment.

It wasn't a complicated dance. In fact, it was incredibly simple, but it was nice. Dancing with you was nice. It was like dancing in a dream. He felt like he was floating on air as he was lulled by the soft melody of the song.

It was a magical moment, and he wished it could last forever. However, reality came crashing down upon him, and he was suddenly reminded that his time was short.

He had to get home.

"I... I really have to go," Marty muttered, his gaze flickering down to your lips. You were close, so close that he could feel your warm breath tickling his cheek.

It would be so easy to lean in and kiss you, but he knew that would be a mistake. If he kissed you, it would only complicate things.

As much as he wanted to stay, he had to go.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I wish I could stay, but I… I can't.”

"That's okay," you replied, giving him a sad smile. "I understand."

You pulled away, and Marty instantly missed the warmth of your body pressed against his. Man, this was hard. He had never felt such a strong attraction to anyone before, and it was a struggle to resist.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"Marty," you began, and his name sounded so sweet coming from your lips. "Thank you. For everything."

Before he could ask what you meant, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It was light and quick, but it was enough to send his heart racing.

"Goodbye, Marty," you whispered, a hint of sadness in your voice.

And then you were gone, disappearing into the crowd, leaving him standing there with his jaw hanging open and his heart racing.

He didn't know what to say or how to react.

All he knew was that he would never forget the look in your eyes as you turned and walked away. It caused his hands to shake a little, and he couldn’t help but run one through his hair.

Damn. He couldn’t stop the memory of the way your lips felt against his cheek from lingering in his mind. It was a moment he would never forget.

He didn’t know if he would ever see you again, but he knew that he would never forget the girl with the sparkling eyes.

And, perhaps, if he was lucky, he would see you again.

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nextinline-if · 2 years

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An Update On Things

Hey everyone - my wedding was last Saturday. Originally, I was hoping the writing for Ch 2 would be complete by now but I underestimated how much more work it would need. This is because there is quite a bit of branching for the later half of the chapter which takes a lot of time to do. It's never my goal to give you what I feel is unpolished or mediocre writing on my part.

Therefore, my new goal is to have chapter 2 complete before the end of the year. Not necessarily out to play yet, but the writing is complete so it can be beta tested. I hope that will happen but who knows? I'm going to do my best to make sure the writing is done. But again, I don't want to force out writing or pressure myself too much. So, I'll take my time in the most efficient way I can ha :)

That said, the rest of the year shouldn't be too busy for me so I'm doing my best. I'll be providing more frequent updates + teasers. I appreciate your patience over the last month as I took time away.

Currently, the Alpha Build for Patrons features approximately half of chapter 2. Total written word count for Chapter 2 (including what's not in the Alpha Build) is over 35,000 words. Tha Alpha Build includes:

an enlightening breakfast with James and Vivian;

meeting your pet;

choosing your hobby;

a heart-to-heart with F;

holding court for the first time + meeting 2 new characters;

choosing which charity to support as The Harbinger;

an interlude POV switch.

On that note, I want to say a big thank you to everyone for your support here and on Patreon as well. It means so much to me. As does your patience. You're all so awesome :)

The last thing I wanted to touch on was the Ask box. As you may have noticed, it's been off for a bit and I've answered a few asks but not a ton. There's still a lot to go through. It just feels really overwhelming, to be honest, and that's why I haven't answered many.

That said, I'm going to try and make a genuine effort over the next couple of weeks.

This game is on my mind pretty much every day and I'm still very motivated and interested in finishing it. Anyway, talk soon lovelies :)

P.S. we are almost at 2,000 followers - welcome new lovely people <3 hopefully, I can get the ask box open again soon :)

Discord | itch.io | Patreon |Ko-fi | Tag List

#update #chapter 2 #devblog #alpha build #patreon

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dyaz-stories · 5 months

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Hello author! I am not an English speaker nor do I write in English so I am using Google Translate to leave the comment, sorry in advance if there are any errors in the translation! This is the first time I've left a comment for a writer but I just wanted to tell you that your writing is so beautiful, sweet and soft and you represent the characters so well that they seem to be taken from the same series! I don't get tired of reading any of your other works, you are very talented at what you do and I would gladly read everything you write, please don't be discouraged by the comments, maybe people are also shy like me to leave a comment! A question: Would you write a story about the reunion between reader and Hyun-Su during the apocalypse or about the time they were in high school? I will look forward to your next stories! A big greeting from Argentina!

Ah thank you so much for this lovely ask, I appreciate you doing this so much 😊 Also for the record, English isn't my first language either and I'd never judge someone for the way they speak it! And ah, you have no idea how happy reading this made me 🥹 I love writing characters and their emotions and I'm so so happy if this feels like it could directly pulled from the series 😁

I really get that not everybody is going to leave a comment — genuinely, I understand that, and I don't ever expect all of my readers to do it. I also don't want anyone to feel pressured or blame them. But to be honest, I've never had to resort to asking for comments that way either, it's just that I had reached a point where I would be sadder after posting than I was before and that just isn't sustainable, you know? As a writer, comments, or interactions like this ask, tell me that people want me to keep going. If I'm getting so few interactions, it just feels like people are consuming my writing without caring about it, and without anything to give me fuel to keep going, I get exhausted. I wasn't sure everyone realized that, though I feel this was understood in fandoms I was a part of before, so I wanted to say something instead of just dipping out of the fandom without a word. I hope this doesn't feel too ranty or in any way like a criticism on you because I'm seriously so so thankful that you took the time to write and send this in, I just. I've been having a lot of feelings on this subject ;-;

And yeah I'm super down to write about both of these topics!! I've thought about it quite a lot but wasn't sure there would be much interest for it so I'm thrilled to know you'd be interested 😁 I'll add it to my list of things I want to write about!

Thank you so much for your ask and for your kind words 💕

#ask #evee64

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moon-silvered · 1 year

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Hello! How are you? I’m not sure if creators receive notification on reblogged comments but I just want to make sure my confession gets through: I just finished reading your Love Under The Moonlight series and it really got me hooked! Your Steven is probably one of my favorite Stevens I have read on tumblr and I can’t get enough of all the witty conversations between him and the reader, or even just between reader and other characters. When reading a MK fic I always love learning Steven’s side of the POV more and how smart and sassy he can be other than the bashfulness. (Cause I can’t stress this enough: Steven got so much more to offer other than just the awkwardness. And imo your writing totally satisfied that aspect of his character) The dialogue feels clever and it’s just overall really fun to read. Not to mention the different ways you incorporated the telepathic elements into the fic is very intriguing and it keeps surprising me throughout the story; the usage of it, where it leads, how Khonshu reacts to it etc. It’s all very creative. I’d say it’s a perfect balance between romance and mystery, it’s almost like I’m watching an entertaining show on tv.

I never want go into a creator’s inbox and pressure a next part or anything. I don’t want to get my hopes up as I know it’s been awhile since the Can’t Fight The Moonlight series was updated. But I’m honestly quite interested in where the story is going, especially with Khonshu and Jake’s involvement, and learn what Marc is thinking, in what ways will Steven and the reader find out about the system etc. If there is no plan to continue the story I completely understand. My goal is really just to communicate my appreciation of your storytelling and how much joy it gave me in the last couple days. Your writing deserves so much more attention!!! I’ll certainly come back to this series from time to time just to re-experience the love in the characters throughout this journey! Thank you so much for writing :)

Wow so...this has been in my Inbox a long time, and can I just say...Thank you. Like truly thank you. I was completely taken away from writing this entire time but between this ask and all the comments and replies everyone has sent for Can't Fight the Moonlight, I was deeply touched. Truly and well touched. I really hadn't expected anyone would like my fics when I posted them because I'd never written readerfics before them.

Okay now that I've said that...

Yes, the way I write Steven is with all of that in mind. Like Yes he's awkward but he's clever, and witty, and really hilarious if you love deadpan humor - which is so on point for a British person. So I really strived to do that, to make sure i had that balance and insecurity. And I wanted to use that to create an authentic relationship between him and reader - give Reader a bit of personality too that responds to Steven and builds off him and is built on by him as well. A give and take.

Telepathy has always intrigued me as a concept, but I rarely see people delve into what it could mean and how it could be used in the day to day. Not just as a hero, but...just mundane stuff? And also the doubting of oneself and how being able to read someone's mind affects how quickly a telepath would get attached to someone - so they'd also have their own insecurities.

And yes! I've been trying to make this more of mystery with romance and fluff interspersed (every other chapter is more like).

Don't worry, you didn't pressure me. Life just got in my way from being able to write. I should note, chapter five has been posted as of me responding to this. Telepath!Reader will be interacting with Marc directly very soon. Jake will take more time.

I really do appreciate your ask. It really was so heartwarming to read and I kept returning to it when I was able to write for a little bit to keep me motivated and going.

#asks

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liacontilde · 1 year

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My own fanfic pt.2b

He helped me a lot. I didn’t know there was so much to do there. My friend (who calls himself Hanwool now that he lives in Korea) had never warned me about these things, although he did talk to me many times about Korean culture and how to address to people. I was talking to Namjoon. I found him a very interesting boy. He is 5 years older than me, which surprised me quite a bit because I thought he would be a couple of years younger. I asked him if I should call him oppa and he said no, he didn’t like that word and even less coming from a foreigner. I also discovered that he is a boy very focused on art and botany. He likes nature and visiting museums, which is why he really attracted my attention, since I am also an artist. He didn’t give me too many details, but he did tell me that both he and Yoongi are music producers and because of that, I would notice that they spend a lot of time away from home or composing. I told him that I love music and that I like to sing. I told him a little about my musical tastes and he was quite surprised, but he told me that perhaps I shared tastes with a friend of his. We manage to complete all tasks as quickly and efficiently as possible. I was starting to feel comfortable with Namjoon. He always gave me conversation about anything and I liked to find out about him. When we were going home to eat, I couldn’t help but comment to him. Y/N: I think I’ve already thanked you for everything you’ve done for me… But I don’t think it’s enough… From giving me a bed and a roof to helping me with all the paperwork and the most basic things.. I really appreciate everything, Namjoon. NAMJOON: You’re a good person, Y/N. And I hope you do very well tomorrow on your first day of work. Y/N: Why are you talking about work now? NAMJOON: I’m sorry… Maybe I’m thinking about my own job without meaning to. Y/N: Sorry for changing the subject… It just makes me curious. There are many stereotypes about Korean society and I have come here with a lot of warnings and advice. I really don’t know to what extent those things are true or not. NAMJOON: Korean society… It often feels stifling. Most people have been raised from a young age to behave in a certain way and always try to meet the standards. There is a lot of pressure in terms of studies and getting a good job. Everyone expects you to end up starting a family, but you spend so much time meeting your goals that life passes you by, you get older and you can’t do what you really wanted. Y/N: That’s horrible! But… I’ve seen many couples on the street… I want to think that people do have time for love and to start a family, right? NAMJOON: Yes, of course. But there are always some very demanding jobs… And let’s not forget the compulsory military service. Y/N: Have you gone to the army yet? NAMJOON: No… I’ve been very busy with my work. Really… I may be going soon. Actually all my friends want to go at the same time, but some of them are still very young and others… Well, they are a couple of years older than me. Y/N: Aren’t you scared…? Of mlitary service… NAMJOON: Being a mandatory thing for all youngsters… It’s not really as tough a place as some might imagine, plus there are so many different positions. For a second I was going to ask why they still do conscription there, but my own mind answered the question: the North.

-To be continued-

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4dtk · 3 years

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jaehyun as a bf

anon: “your writing brings me butterflies i love it you are so underrated!!!!! would love to request a jaehyun bf headcanons (like the one you did of mark <3)” thank you for the kind words anon <333 hope you enjoy this one!

(a bit of a plug lol but check out NCT 127's ideal r/s headcanons in this post!! i appreciate you checking it out! <3)

brief mentions of sex, but nothing explicitly nsfw!

likes to talk about music with you

especially jazz. there’s a plethora of songs out there with different renditions and sometimes he likes to ramble about who’s rendition he likes best

would play the piano for you if you asked, just maybe not after schedules or something. but usually when you’re free or alone together in the room, he likes you to sit beside him to listen to him play

you guys like to play a little game where he’ll play the chords and you play like a random note to create blobs of music

even if you don’t know how, the way the session always dissolves into giggles is his favourite thing in the world

if you know how to play the piano that’s great too!! jaehyun just likes the unexpected notes that come out since there’s no set melody in his mind

jaehyun needs to have some part of his body on yours at all times. like he has to hold your hand all the time, or a finger hooked around your backpack, or an arm around your waist.

at least when you’re together he does it very often and he’s just. obsessed with you lmfao

it’s also the reason he buys a promise ring when he’s sure of you as a significant other so you always have a part of him with you (his love)

would buy you those lockets for you to put pictures inside. he doesn’t care where you wear it though, around your neck, wrist, ankle, as long as the locket is on your person

he clings onto you like crazy in the mornings. jaehyun’s a heavy sleeper and likes to hug you on his side, so you’re always having trouble trying to pry him off of you in the morning

a bit nsfw: he likes morning lazy sex lol, ngl. jaehyun adores the rawness of your relationship in the morning and the sleepiness in your eyes when you’re gently pushing him away. he knows you don’t mean it but he makes sure you really want it first

loves the sunlight kissing your skin and the slow, gentle movements

so so intimate, he prefers it to the rougher forms of sex, but sometimes he doesn’t have that luxury since they leave for schedules quite often in the wee hours of dawn

for cuddling sense, jaehyun likes it when you’re under his arm and cuddled into his side. classic position but he dies every time inside when you look up at him and there’s this clueless look you have. has the biggest smile on his face after and you have to repeat the stuff you said bc he’s too distracted by how your eyes shine

second hot favourite (more of when you’re making out) is when you’re straddling him. nothing sexual, just like you on top of him when you’re kissing and stuff. he digs it when you’re pulling away for oxygen and he has to lift his body to reach for your lips again

gets flustered from kissing, but doesn’t show it. if he’s found a way to suppress the crazy crimson on his ears (which i doubt) then he will but his words will always contradict his expression

jaehyun can say “are you nervous, y/n?” with a smirk but his ears keep giving him away!!!!

mfer’s hands are shaking too when he trails it over your body. in disbelief you’re his.

sometimes shamelessly moans into the kiss LOL, not too loud but he whines when you pull away, and has to kiss you breathless again

when you kiss him, expect like a long-lasting kiss. doesn’t mind small pecks and stuff but he’ll want to savour your lips a little longer than a mere peck

jaehyun likes your neck too. when you’re hugging his face is always in your neck, placing small little butterfly kisses

you need to look out for him, always. mans always tripping over something at some point. it’s become more frequent now that he has you and my god he’s so unable to keep his eyes off of you that he trips over simple things. he once tripped over nothing

on the daily when he’s not tripping over you, he’s clumsy in a sense where he drops food on the table. he once struggled to tie up his growing hair into a mini ponytail bc it was just too little hair. the hair tie slipped from his fingers and shot itself into your face - those kinds of small small mishaps

it’s endearing but sometimes you can’t help but laugh at him

likes to take you out on impromptu dates. dates that are close by and easy to plan (?) i guess.

not saying jaehyun is a lazy boyfriend but he likes the more candid dates where you decide what to do as you go along. of course if it’s a big day like your anniversary or birthdays then he’d want to plan something out.

other than that, he just either lets you choose the places to go there or you two decide along the way. he doesn’t want to impose options for you and pressure you. if he’s being honest, he wouldn’t know where to go either lol so he just follows wherever you bring him

laughs so much when he’s with you. giggles, deep laugh, whatever you name it. your relationship is very light-hearted and he finds that he’s the one laughing more when you deliver jokes even tho he wants to make you laugh too

i can’t lie… his jokes can be dry sometimes i’m sorry jaehyun 😭 so he backs it up with laughter and has to catch his breath sometimes bc he finds it really funny

you’re not laughing at the joke, rather at his laugh so you might have to tell him that some way or another bc he’ll just keep making bad jokes i’m sorry y’all

he can’t handle the suuuuuper cheesy physically affectionate films or series (with shitty plot) but i feel like if the story’s interesting enough he’ll pay attention. likes bittersweet films too, i feel, gets him thinking

doesn’t mind cliched plots (fake dating / idealist girl meets realist boy / idk any others lol) but would propose something at the end that he thinks will make the movie/series more interesting

jaehyun likes to share his theories with you

unironically wants to learn the la la land tap dance scene with you. he ALWAYS hums city of stars too, no matter what. idk why but it sticks to him, in bed, in breakfast, when he’s doing something random

he did it once on the radio and he received a text from you in break that told him he was humming along to the song

with that said, jaehyun wants to try out the stuff in the rain quite a bit. making out, dancing, lying down, running, he likes that fascination that society has with doing things in the rain

doesn’t like it too much that he’ll get soaked, but as long as you’re with him and willing to do it, he’s all for it

jaehyun would def want kids in the future. wants to dote on them and buy them stuff and whatnot. wants to see them running around the house with laughter while you both struggle to contain the bursts of excitement they have

doesn’t care for the dynamic much. if he’s the one to stay at home to take care of them while you work, he can work with it. if it’s the other way round, he’s okay too

he just worries that if he’s still involved with the entertainment industry, you might have to take a back seat since he’ll be the one earning the money, and he doesn’t want babysitters either.

heart is so so full when he comes back home and you’re just playing with the kids, or singing them to sleep. any sight of you with him is enough to make him melt into a puddle

HAS to hold them even if they’re asleep. wants to always have them close to him while he nudges you to shower or get the food ready.

like jaehyun, he would wanna meet someone in a vinyl shop or bookstore. he knows it’s cliched but the thought of meeting someone when you’re buying something is exciting. anything unexpected for him, he welcomes it

the next few are just random, miscellaneous headcanons: he likes to see you in his clothes, preferably with nothing underneath. just his shirt lol. cheeky man

jaehyun likes it when you shower together (again, nothing sexual, just likes the domesticity)

likes it when you fall asleep on him

will never stop gushing about you to his parents, first time you met them they’re like “he’s told us so much about you!” and he really did

feels comfortable in your presence, no makeup, messy hair, no need for a perfect bod. he’s just jaehyun. jung yuno if you will

adores it when you call him “lover” i mean boyfriend is good, significant other is good, but lover is just chef’s kiss

it is a bit cheesy if you think about it, so it’s not often that you say it. when you do say it in songs when you’re singing it to him, he can’t stop smiling

plays lover, you should’ve come over when he’s on tour bc it’s the closest thing he can get to a replica of how he feels for you

and when jaehyun falls asleep to the song, all he can remember is your honey voice singing it to him. he’ll just have to hold onto it before he can see you again

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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Please could I get poly Nanami and Gojo working together to overstimulation their fem s/o? Thank you nat!!! 🥵

do not look at me

teamwork - nanami x fem reader x gojo (5.4k)

it’s not surprising that satoru gojo wants to turn everything into a competition. even this. still - you’re not exactly complaining.

(warnings: afab reader, fem pronouns. cunnilingus, fingering, overstimulation, use of toys, deep-throating, threesome, coming inside)

Every time you end up with either one of these men, you wonder how it happened. But this time . . . with both of them beside you, hungrily eyeing you, your bedroom feeling very small and warm . . . this time, you decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Gojo’s fingers brush across your cheek, turning your face so you can’t look anywhere but into his crystalline blue eyes. You know what they look like under his blindfold, of course – but every time you see them feels like a surprise, like the wind is being knocked out of your sails. He’s too handsome for his own good, and the worst part about it is that he absolutely knows that.

From the other side of you on the bed is a long-suffering, world-weary sigh.

“It’s not a fair competition if you monopolise her,” comes Nanami’s voice.

“Aww,” Gojo complains, not breaking the eye contact with you. “Come on. You’re around way more often than I am, you get more of a chance to monopolise--”

“If we had to see even more of you,” Nanami says drily, “I’m not sure we’d survive.”

“C-competition?” You breathe, even as you feel Nanami’s hand feather light on your leg. “I didn’t realise that was what happening--”

Maybe you had been too breathlessly caught off-guard by the suggestion that the two sorcerers take you home. Too distracted by how handsome they both were when they had kissed you in turn, by how you’d opened the door and tumbled into your bedroom.

You’ve only ever had them one at a time before, their schedules never quite lining up, their various duties calling them away and depositing them back in your bed at a whim. Having both of them on your bed, touching you, looking at you – that feels like a novelty, despite how long these trysts have been going on.

“Satoru’s nature makes him want to turn everything into a competition,” Nanami murmurs, leaning in – you start as you feel his lips on your calf, gently drawing a path higher and higher, feather-light and reverent.

Gojo huffs out a laugh.

“I just know I’ll win,” he tells you. His face comes very close to yours and you feel like you could drown in the starlight of his eyes, his lips curving into a smirk. “Nanamin’s acting like this because he knows it, too--”

He kisses you even as Nanami snorts against the back of your knee. Gojo’s lips press against yours hungrily, as good at kissing as he is at everything else – suckling your lower lip into his mouth, nipping at it with his teeth, a taste that’s unmistakably sugary sweet flooding your senses. You’ve learnt from much experience that Gojo always tastes like sweets. The hand on your cheek strokes across your face to grip your hair, tugging it hard enough that a gasp escapes from your mouth to be caught in Gojo’s in turn. Nanami’s kisses have not stopped a moment, higher and higher, on the soft flesh of your inner thigh now--

Gojo pauses to pull back, drinking in your widened eyes and the swollen jut of your lower lip. He’s far too pleased with himself. You manage to put some of your thoughts in order, as strong fingers stroke up the thigh that isn’t being lavished with Nanami’s kisses, to say;

“W-what’s the competition?”

“Aww,” Gojo’s hands are at your shirt, pulling the fabric up over your breasts. He whistles when he sees them; it’s been so many times, and you’re still not over Satoru Gojo being impressed by the way you look. Your cheeks flame at the appreciation raw in his gaze. “It’s way more fun if you don’t know, princess.”

You’ve almost forgotten Nanami is there until you feel lips firmly press against the fabric of your underwear, hot breath obvious even through the cotton. You whimper, your back arching up to seek out more sensation and friction. Gojo sighs, tugging off the fabric of your shirt and throwing it off the bed (possibly to never be seen again).

“You’re wet,” Nanami murmurs, through a mouthful of fabric, at once sinfully close to your slit and too far away from it. Gojo raises his eyebrows.

“Of course she is,” he says, “hot guy like me here, and everything--”

Yes. Too handsome for his own good, and far, far too smug about it--

“Don’t you ever shut up?” Nanami asks, raising one eyebrow, pulling back from between your thighs. You make a soft mewl of displeasure at the movement, and he turns his stern gaze to you. “Be good, sweetheart. I had to take these off, didn’t I?” Big, calloused fingers slide under the waistband of your underwear to tug them down your legs. For a moment, the cloth clings uncomfortably to the slickness of your folds – and then, you’re bare to Nanami’s hungry eyes (and Gojo’s, though he seems far more interested in your upper half right now. You guess Nanami is having his turn at whatever this competition is first--).

“Look at you,” he murmurs, soft and low, admiring. He’s not the kind of man who throws out compliments willy-nilly, but you can still hear it in his tone, and it makes you go all over hot and needy.

“You’re gorgeous,” Gojo says, not to be outdone – and there’s a man who does throw out compliments. Nanami is right in that he really doesn’t shut up; but when the things spilling out of his mouth are about how good you are around him, how nice you feel, how pretty your face looks when you’re about to come – you’re much less bothered by Gojo’s habit of running his mouth. “I’m going to make you feel so good – you’re not going to be able to walk for a week after I’m done with you, doll--”

“We’re going to,” Nanami corrects. His hands land on your inner thigh, thumbs gently teasing the outer lips of your sex apart so that the slick folds are exposed to the cool air and the eyes of the two men in your bedroom. You shift, both uncomfortable and aroused by being so open and revealed to them – but both of them are looking at you hungrily, like two predators who are about to pounce.

You forget how dangerous they are, sometimes. You are so used to them as colleagues and friends – Gojo’s occasional childish whims, his laughter, his schemes, and Nanami’s sternness, the surprisingly caring heart beneath all of it – that you forget that their bodies are all raw power, their minds sharply trained weapons.

“Is that a promise?” You breathe, and for that you win a bright laugh from Gojo and a tilt of the lips from Nanami, a huff that would pass as laughter in a court of law.

The latter settles himself between your legs and you can’t help the rush of electricity that goes through you seeing him there, a fizzling spark that settles low in your stomach. His shirtsleeves are pushed up to reveal corded muscle in his forearm, his tired eyes still hungry as they drink in every inch of you like you’re a meal that he’s about to very much enjoy.

(Coincidentally, you’ve seen Nanami before he tucks into a meal he’s looking forward to, and it’s very much the same appreciative air – you, food, a piece of art . . . his gaze is equally appreciative).

“You’re very slow,” Gojo says, a lilt of laughter in the back of his voice. Nanami doesn’t rise to the bait as his face comes very close to your sex – you twitch under the gaze, the hot wash of his breath over your sensitive folds.

When Nanami’s tongue darts out to taste you, it sends a spiralling shock wave that you feel from your shoulders to the tips of your toes. You exhale softly – and, clearly spurred on by the soft little noise, Nanami’s tongue darts out again for a longer lick.

Gojo sighs, but when your unfocused eyes stray to him, his own gaze is locked upon where Nanami is bent with his mouth against your sex.

The tip of the latter’s tongue flickers over your clit and you mewl, heart skipping a beat. He’s being so slow – teasing you, making you incredibly aware of every wash of his breath and slight flick of his tongue. Your stomach ties itself into knots at just how good it feels – Nanami is always good at this, but having Gojo watching is clearly making him want to impress even more. This is far slower and more teasing that he usually is with you.

It’s not bad, by any stretch of the imagination – you’d argue it’s better than usual – but that doesn’t absolve the fact that you want more. You move your thighs so they’re over Nanami’s shoulder, intending to try and pull him against you – but big strong hands come to rest on them, Nanami’s grip stopping you from doing anything so rash.

He pulls back from between your legs for a moment, the glimmer of your slick on his lips, as he says;

“I told you to be good. Let me be in charge.”

There’s authority in his words that you can’t argue with – so instead, you let out a frustrated little moan. Nanami’s smirk is obvious as he presses a kiss to your clit.

He teases you for a few minutes, his tongue slowly lapping at you with nowhere near enough pressure for you to be satisfied, until you’re flushed and squirming under every brief twitch of his tongue. Only then does he pull you in a little closer and let the broad flat of his tongue slide across your sex entirely, making your toes curl and your thighs twitch and your eyes flutter closed at just how good it feels to finally have his full attention.

You’re surprised that Gojo isn’t complaining more about having nothing to do – from your experience with the man, he likes to always have himself occupied. He’s not usually prone to sitting still – at least, not without much complaint. When you do manage to look at him through the hazy veil of ‘oh, fuck, Nanami’s mouth feels amazing’, though, he’s watching Nanami with eyes of a hawk.

Right.

They’re having some kind of competition, and you know that Gojo hates to lose--

Nanami does something with his tongue, a flourish over your clit like he’s painting calligraphy, and your eyes snap shut as your hips stroke up to meet him and you come for the first time, a pleasant wash of heat and snapping pressure making your entire being feel light and floaty for a moment.

Nanami’s mouth does not stop for an instant. You know he must feel the wetness coat his chin and the twitch and flutter of your sex, but your peak does not stop him – his tongue just moves lower, pushing inside of your quivering entrance--

“Fuck,” you whimper aloud. Your toes are curling. Your hands fly up to Nanami’s hair, twisting within the strands, dishevelling him. “K-Kento, I’m-- I already--”

He pulls his tongue out of your channel only long enough to murmur;

“I know,” and then he is continuing the onslaught, the tip of his tongue imitating the action that you wish his cock were taking, thrusting in and out of your sex. Your walls try and tighten around it to suck him further in, but his tongue does not act in the same way as a cock and it’s not enough--

He alternates between the two, moving from clit to entrance to clit again, flickering his tongue and thrusting it until you’re wondering how he can even manage to keep moving it, he must be aching . . . Occasionally, he wraps his lips about your clit and sucks and you just about lose your damn mind from how it feels.

You lose track of how many times you come, weakly pulsing around him. The glide of Nanami’s face against your sex is so wet that you think it will be a miracle if you don’t have to change your sheets after this. You must be a puddle between them, every flicker of his tongue and puff of his breath against your overstimulated slit making you whine and whimper and moan.

Tears bead in the corner of your eyes as Nanami finally – finally – surfaces for air. His face is soaking wet, the aftermath of your various orgasms also staining the collar of his shirt dark with damp. You don’t know if Nanami is really done, even then – but Gojo takes the opportunity to bounce, unrestrained energy, and push Nanami away so your thighs fall from his shoulders.

“Come on,” Gojo urges. “It’s my turn--”

“Satoru,” you say, weakly. “I’m—I need a minute-- I don’t think I can--”

But his fingers are already on you. He swipes them through the mess of your sex (half with Nanami’s saliva, half with your own slick, both of them so mixed together you can’t tell what’s you and what’s not), delighting in the way your form twitches under the onslaught of sensation.

“Sure you can,” he says. “You’re so good for us--”

His fingers are cool against your heated skin. The hand that isn’t resting over your sex moves over your breast, squeezing the curve of your skin – you sigh, arching into the touch, letting him pinch your nipple between thumb and forefinger at the same time as he gently slides one of his fingers inside you.

It’s still not enough. He fits inside you without a single ounce of resistance, knuckle deep – more solid than Nanami’s tongue, reaching further and deeper, but still not filling you up as much as you want to be filled. You thrust your hips to make sure that he’s buried in as deep as he can go and he chuckles, giving the pinched nipple a good-natured tug that sends an electric surge to the pit of your stomach where another orgasm is already building.

You didn’t know you could come again. You thought that Nanami had pulled every ounce of pleasure you were capable of from your body already, but here is Gojo Satoru to prove you wrong once again--

“You want another?” He murmurs. “I thought you couldn’t . . .?”

The last words are said mocking and smug, and if you didn’t want even more of his fingers inside of you you would slap him. Instead, you simply moan and hope that he takes it as the permission that it is. Gojo knows you too well to misunderstand, and can see that you’re enjoying yourself too much to withhold (not to mention Nanami, watching him – he can’t help but want to assert his dominance even more when the junior sorcerer is around), so with the next thrust of his fingers he scissors you open with a second.

You whimper, but your body greedily welcomes them inside of you. They’re long and good, rubbing against all of the patches of your inner walls that have you seeing stars. You’re incapable of real thought right now, with Gojo’s fingers buried so deep inside of you. All you can think of is the stretch of him, the feel of him, his knuckles. With every thrust of his fingers your sex makes wet, slick noises that would be shaming if you weren’t so far gone.

You’re not ashamed of how good you feel right now. You’re not ashamed of the rocking of your hips as you help him along, fucking yourself on his fingers just as much as he’s fucking you with them. He bends his head and wraps his lips about your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive little bud, at the same time as his thumb strokes across the swollen pearl of your clit and the string inside of you snaps.

You don’t know what number orgasm this is, but it feels like the first one all over again as you cry out Gojo’s name into the ceiling. His lips leave your nipple with an audible pop, turning to where Nanami is sitting on the bed. At some point, he lost his ruined shirt, and your eyes blearily fixate on the scars on his side and the muscles in his shoulders. God, it’s unfair that he hides his body like that--

“She never said your name,” Gojo says, smugly. You want to reprimand him, but you can’t speak – your throat feels dry and sore, your heart beating loudly in your ears. Gojo must be able to feel it, too, where he’s still deep inside you; the heartbeat feels like it’s reverberating all through you until you can’t think of anything else. Gojo lets you ride out the final pulses of your orgasm with his fingers buried inside you.

If you think that he’s going to pull his fingers out of you, though, you’re deeply mistaken. He lets your body stop weakly pulsating around him, and then his thumb is back to drawing circles around your clit. He knows better than to touch it straight off – but the feeling is still half-good and half-ache, more than you can handle so soon after coming so hard. Your hips wriggle beneath him, your breath coming in short gasps. He slides his fingers half-out, and then pushes them back in, already halfway to establishing a rhythm.

Oh, oh, oh. It’s so much. Gojo leans his head to kiss your neck, teeth scraping across the sensitive hollows of your throat, spending a moment to suck a lovebite into your skin that you know you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. Three fingers are inside you, and Gojo is just getting faster.

His thumb stops being so delicate and drags across your clit, leaving a trail of fiery hot pleasure. Tension coils in your gut all over again.

Too much, it’s too much, all of your body is on fire – you can’t, you can’t, you can’t--

You want him to stop. You don’t want him to stop? You’re trembling all over like a tautly pulled violin string, ready to snap. How is he going so fast? How are you taking it? Three fingers stuffed inside you and you’re ready to fall into pieces--

Nanami moves, pulling your head onto his knee as Gojo continues to fuck you open with every pump of his hand.

“C-can’t,” you whimper, arching up into Gojo’s fingers. You’re soaking wet everywhere – your brow is beading with sweat, your sex so slick that it’s a wonder those fingers don’t slip out of you with every hungry flex of Gojo’s hand. “I can’t come again, Satoru, please--”

You don’t want him to stop despite the protestation, hips still hopelessly pumping up in greedy search of friction. His thumb has not ceased the assault over your swollen clit, every brush of the digit sending shocks throughout your body. Your mouth is open to take great hungry, gasping breaths – it’s a wonder you managed to form any syllables. Nanami is bent over you with a hand stroking your hair, but there’s a hungry frustration in his gaze as he watches Gojo fuck you with his fingers.

You know that the other man wants another turn – but you’re honestly not sure if you can take it.

“Aww, don’t be like that!” Gojo chirps, and his hand gets faster, which you didn’t even realise was possible. Your fingers fist into the bedsheets below you throwing your head back, panting. “Of course you can come again, princess! You’re just about to, actually--”

You hate him for being right. The ball of tension in your stomach is so tight it’s almost painful, pulling at you from all angles ready to unravel once more. One little mean grind of Gojo’s thumb against your clit has you falling again, slick walls of your sex clamping about the three fingers buried inside you, a gush of wetness soaking him even further and making Gojo exclaim in delight.

Your chest heaves with effort. Gojo pulls his fingers out of you with a weak pop, followed by a little pour of your slick that he was plugging inside you. The white-haired man brings his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste you – he tilts his head back, savouring the taste.

“Sweet,” he tells you, with a grin. “I could get drunk on you.” He turns to Nanami with a challenge in his face. “Did I win?”

As competitive as Nanami can be sometimes, you also know that he’s willing to admit when he’s beaten. You’re expecting the younger sorcerer to sigh but ultimately agree with Gojo’s words – you’re not expecting, above you, Nanami’s face to become something that’s all fervent ruthlessness.

Nanami moves to your bedside drawer and opens the second one down. Your face grows heated. He knows what’s in there, because you’ve experimented with using them in the bedroom before – but still! Having him go in there of your own accord!

Despite the panting and the sweating and the fact that you feel like you’ve been pushed to your limit already, seeing Nanami holding the bulbous headed magic wand toy sends a jolt of arousal right to your poor swollen sex.

“That’s cheating,” Gojo says hotly, pouting as Nanami gently pushes him out of the way to settle between your thighs instead. “I win by default!”

“If you want,” Nanami says, measured. You gasp as he presses the smooth head against your clit without turning it on, the cool, smooth sensation making you squirm even without the vibrations that you know are coming. “Perhaps it would be more fun if we worked together.”

A flash goes over Gojo’s face, as he tips his head to one side in consideration.

Nanami moves the toy again, still turned off – sliding it along the wet slit of your sex, to where your opening is pulsing and fluttering to be filled by something more substantial than Gojo or Nanami’s fingers and tongues. You shudder at the bolts of heat that it sends all through you. You’ve come – what, four times? Five? Almost too many to count – but you still feel so achingly empty, you still feel as though you need to be properly held down and fucked. You’re at once overstimulated and nowhere near stimulated enough, and your hips jerk with every slow measured rub of the toy against your slit.

“You admitted it,” Gojo crows, but he watches Nanami’s slow teasing of your heated body nonetheless. “I’ll remember that. But . . . if you really think we should work together . . .”

“Alright,” Nanami says agreeably, far more entranced by you and unwilling to be pulled into Gojo’s games.

Gojo moves onto the bed, over your head. You watch him undo his pants with hazy, unfocused eyes – still too far gone to make sense of anything that’s happening around you except how good the cool head of the wand feels on all of your slick, hot folds and how your entire body is still fizzling with pleasure.

When he pulls out his cock, it’s clear to see that you’ve had an effect on him – the swollen head, all pink and slick, the pulsing shaft.

“Is that for me?” You ask, and Gojo laughs at just how out of it you still sound. He supposes that the best way to describe it is ‘cockdrunk, only you haven’t taken any cock yet’ – pleasure soaked, unreal, all satisfaction and greedy arousal.

“Do you want it?” He asks, teasingly. “I’d like to give you it, but I’ll wait until you use your words, pretty girl--”

You open your mouth to speak at the same time as Nanami flicks the switch on the toy, and whatever affirmation is about to spill out of your slack mouth is lost in the wail.

It’s too fast, too soon, against your poor clit that’s had enough stimulation for a year – and you can feel your orgasm hovering at the edge of your vision in moments. You try to clamp your legs shut to stop it being so overwhelming, but Nanami is too settled in between them.

Gojo uses the open-mouthed moan to slide the head of his cock into your open mouth, groaning as if in relief when your lips seal around it. Anything to distract you from the persistent buzzing of the toy between your thighs. Anything to stop you coming again, embarrassingly quickly--

Gojo’s hand strokes through your hair tenderly as he murmurs softly;

“Good, fuck, you feel amazing--”

Your body and heart do a flip at the praise. From the glint in Gojo’s eye, he’s remembered how well you respond to praise – and your sex clenches hungrily around nothing in response. You drag your eyes from Gojo to look at Nanami, still between your legs, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he studies your sex and how it’s clenching and pulsing and dripping even with the toy pressed against your clit.

You can see the thick outline of his cock pressing against his slacks – but Nanami is far more focussed on your pleasure than his own right now. He’s always been better at holding himself off than Gojo is.

“Hey,” Gojo says. “Keep your eyes on me, let him do whatever he wants . . . I deserve that, for winning, huh?”

You drag your eyes back to Gojo as you keep sucking at his cock. You whine around it – and there’s Nanami again, flicking up the intensity the barest notch. You whine around the shaft, making his cock vibrate with your hums, your tongue sloppily sliding along the salty slit. “Oh, fuck – you’re gonna come again? Ha-a, guess both of us is . . . a bit much--”

You do. You come again, your back arching – Nanami grabs your waist with one hand to keep you anchored against the bed, your thighs still unable to close as a pleasure-painful orgasm is wrung out of you. You’re not going to be able to walk for a week, Gojo was right.

Somehow, there is still enough liquid in your body to soak the bed beneath you again, though you feel like after the amount that the two have brought forth from your body you ought to be a dry husk where you lay.

“Good girl,” Nanami purrs, and you’re helpless under the onslaught of him turning the toy up one more time. You can’t come again, you can’t you can’t you can’t--

And moments after the last orgasm you do, your legs shaking wildly. Nanami has the sense to pull the toy off you this time and he’s treated to the full view of your empty hole clenching around nothing. The scream of pleasure is lost to Gojo’s cock – his hips thrusting against you, the head bumping against your throat. You wish you could concentrate on anything but the fire between your legs. You’re in pieces, feeling like you’re floating through stars, not properly anchored down anywhere--

Maybe you pass out for a moment, but your tongue is still moving against the meat of Gojo’s shaft and your heart is still beating a frantic rhythm and aftershocks are still ricocheting through you when your eyes manage to refocus and you remember where you are.

“I need to--” Nanami murmurs softly, and you hear the zipper and button of his trousers. He’s almost apologetic as his cock rests at your entrance. You make a soft noise of encouragement around Gojo’s cock and Nanami seizes upon it with relief, your entrance welcoming him inside its wet, tight embrace without a fraction of resistance.

You’re still utterly overwhelmed in the best possible way, sore from coming over and over again, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to leave the two of them high and dry. You redouble your efforts on Gojo’s cock, tongue tracing line where his cock head and shaft meet and winning a groan from him. You hollow your cheeks and suck as Nanami begins to establish an even pace, the slick glide of his cock inside of you sending pleasant shivers all through your body.

Gojo’s hips chase every suck, his breath beginning to sound unsteady in his chest. His mouth is moving and you know he must be talking to you, but all you can hear is the slick wet sound of Nanami’s cock driving in and out of you and the pound of your own heart in your ears.

Gojo’s cock twitches in your mouth as the only warning before he’s coming, thick spurts down your throat. You swallow reflexively, practically sucking him dry and making Gojo groan and whisper your name like a prayer. Part of you feels smug about the heated way his voice sounds as you suck the very final shivers of his orgasm out of him, wondering if he feels even half as drunk on it as you did after all the times he’s made you come tonight.

He pulls out of your mouth in time for Nanami to grab your face and kiss you, seemingly uncaring about the fact you must still taste like Gojo. Nanami always likes to have his mouth pressed somewhere against you when he comes, almost as if he’s embarrassed of the breathy groans he makes as you push him over the edge. His hips stutter, his even strokes turning into ragged plunges of his cock into you, and you use your energy to give his lip a nip as you feel him come inside of you with weak pulses. The way that his pelvis grinds against your clit with his final thrust is enough to push you over the edge one last time, your channel throbbing feebly against his as the final, quieter orgasm washes over you like waves lapping at a seashore.

He stays there for a moment, gasping against your lips. You suppose he did wait longer than Gojo did to finally be touched, even after touching you first, and you wonder just how much he was aching to be inside of you by the time he finally got there.

You’d be willing to let him lay there forever, if he wanted to – unfortunately, that feeling is not mutual on the part of everyone in the bedroom.

Gojo clicks his tongue.

“You can’t stay there forever.” He says. “I want to cuddle.”

Of course he does. Nanami groans as he rolls off you, his softening cock popping out of you with a wet noise. You should clean up – the bed beneath you is already soaking wet, your thighs soaking and uncomfortably sticky, Nanami’s come oozing from your hole as press your thighs together. But . . . if you do stand up, you think you will just fall over. And Nanami’s chest looks inviting, perfectly positioned for you to just shift an inch or two and rest upon it . . .

Cleaning up can wait. You stifle a yawn, the bed dipping as Gojo chases the way you move towards Nanami, as if he cannot bear for there to be space between any of you.

“Do I get to decide who won?” You ask, sleepily, resting your head on Nanami’s chest as he sighs and allows it, running his fingers through your hair. Gojo grumbles, locking his arms about your waist and pressing his cheek against your bare back despite the fact you know you must be sticky with sweat. Despite the sigh, Nanami’s hand is fond, his posture all relaxed, a quiet kind of satisfaction in every line of his body.

“You’re probably the best judge,” he says.

“I thought we already decided,” Gojo whines. “Nanamin cheated--”

“I think,” you say, ignoring what Gojo is saying (which you have long learned is one of the best ways to deal with him when he gets prideful and arrogant). “You both won. Teamwork was definitely superior.”

“Hmm,” Nanami says. “You know what? I think you’re right.”

Gojo shifts, hugging you tighter, his body pressed as close to you as is humanly possible. Your bed isn’t really comfortable for all three of you to embrace like this, but in between them you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Say whatever you want to make yourself feel better,” he says, all dignity. “I definitely won.”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #kento nanami x reader #satoru gojo x reader #poly ship tag #not sfw #writing #jjk posting #jujutsu kaisen smut #Anonymous #jjk writing tag

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honey-milk-depresso · 3 years

Note

dunno if this has been requested already, but can i get an albedo mc with the vice dorm leaders?? only if u want to :)

An alchemical genius, no wonder Divus favors you over everyone else. An amiable and patient, a kind soul in place. But you spend your time in recluse areas, sometimes having a slight distaste with talking with your peers because of the trouble needed to maintain the social relationship. You love drawing a lot, observing the things around you with curious eyes. Secretive about your past, you love working on many experiments, but know how to take a break. A bit of an oddball I must say.

You're also somehow very good with children, apparently.

Sorry there's no Ruggie, Jamil and Lilia- ;-;;;;;; And had to add in Idia to fulfil another anon's request.

Also pretty boy Albedo, he's so sweet UwU

TWST The patient and experimental alchemist, s/o (Albedo)

Trey Clover

Well, you certainly are quite weird. You usually exclude yourself from places with many people, even if you had met the Adeuce combo first, he doesn't see you around them so often even though the three of you claim you're best friends.

Trey sees you have a thing for alchemy, you love asking Crewel questions, albeit at appropriate timings, and Crewel keeps praising you for making a successful alchemy performance. It's not to become a teacher's pet, but rather because you were genuinely curious and love alchemy in general.

Trey is very appreciative of your calm, patient and kind nature. Heartslabyul is just filled with non stop drama, in fact, all of NRC is. Being with you, makes him feel more relaxed as you both remain quiet, enjoying the peaceful silence, occasional sounds from your pencil when you sketch and small conversations between you two.

He's also appreciating the fact you're wise enough to know how to take a break, so he wouldn't get worried you worry for him tho-.

You and Trey experiment on things related to alchemy science, your way of putting words together while making a hypothesis or conclusion and reason is somehow alluring to him.

Sometimes he sees you drawing in your sketchbook, while peering over it to look at him, eyes back to what you were drawing.

Upon finishing, you show him, and only him, that you drew things like the flowers, plants and trees, but most importantly, a beautiful sketch of him. You look a little shy when you showed him.

He chuckles.

You certainly are a unique one, aren't you?

Jade Leech

How interesting. A quiet little fish sketching away in their sketchbook, looking naive. How cute~ That was Jade's first thought.

He soon realized that you have always been watching him from the start, curious about his anatomy upon hearing he was a mer eel. A sneaky one he is, he peeps into your sketchbook when you aren't looking, discovering how you think his eel form looks like, finely sketched.

Perhaps he might show you? You're so curious as ever. You excel in alchemy, and you hold a passion for it dear, quite adorable may he add. You love experimenting on potions, chemicals, elements and much more, something Jade finds quite amusing, watching you as you stir a concoction in your cauldron.

You're patience and kindness is something he appreciated. Being the vice dorm leader of Octavinelle, isn't very easy. Jade's been running errand after errand non stop, everyone asking for his help with little patience sure gets him to burn out easily. Lucky for him, he gets to relax in the comfortable silence place between you two, occasional conversations brought up is something he thinks about a lot.

He's very keen on unravelling your past; you seem to keep it from everyone. He's not trying to be nosy, but he's just as curious of you as you are with him.

It's only fair he also gets his trade of the deal when he shows you his true form, hmm?~

Rook Hunt

Oh my! What an interesting and refreshing person you are! You have a keen eye for detail, don't you? Observing your surroundings, curious of the world around you, like himself!

Your sense of experimenting is something he admires, and he's more than glad to help you in doing so! He doesn't have to worry about you getting tired so frequently, you know when's the right time to take a break!

Rook is very moved by how patient and kind you can be, especially with him. His poor little soul can't handle the cruel weight of the school!~ You told him to please stop being dramatic- he "wasn't"- Geez-

It's funny how someone who likes talking, well, sort of, is friends with someone as quiet as you. Quite the dynamic you two make. He notices you seclude your self in places where there's zero to none people around, so... he'd be the one person who's always with you.

You're usually patient, so long as he doesn't disturb you too much, and Rook respects you want some quiet peace. And in all honesty, he loves the peaceful tranquility brought about.

He doesn't mind such <3

Ortho Shroud (Platonic)

Ortho finds you very cool!

He thinks you're love for alchemy and experimenting is something his brother would totally love! On the topic of his brother, you do remind him a lot about him. You two like to be alone but for different reasons.

Idia is more afraid of social interaction and awkwardness, but you on the other hand, you just prefer the peace and quiet, and maybe also you don't know how to handle social relationships too well.

That's okay! Ortho loves seeing you draw. Sometimes, he show your drawings to his brother and tells him what's it's all about. Your art is so detailed, fine and beautiful, he's never really seen such artistic talent in real life other than you!

You like showing him what you do, and show him cool things while you perform alchemy like creating an illusion of bright blue butterflies come to life from mixing potions.

It's super cool! And really beautiful! You can even create art it alchemy, so interesting!

I'm sure big brother would love how kind and patient you are! He admires that, and he feels big brother needs someone like you to help him!

He likes seeing you apart of his family, even though it just consists of him and Idia.

You're his other, cool role model, that's for sure! <3

Idia Shroud

Idia is super thankful that you're very patient with him, and that you're relatively quiet. He hates social interaction, the pressure's just too much, and he doesn't know how to keep a conversation going.

So you're quiet nature and being patient when he tries to think of a way to reply or talk to you is very appreciated. He usually just scrolls through his phone, hearing your pencil in contact with the pages of your sketchbook, drawing away. He wasn't going to lie, he think's you're really cute when you're focus on drawing.

Every time you're experimenting with your ace subject, alchemy, he usually helps you, albeit if you wanted him to usually because you just see him there just staring at your cauldron and sometimes you very tempting to want to join you- and he feels a little scared he might mess up.

You reassure him that it's okay to fail an experiment, and thus they are experiments, that they aren't made to be perfect the first time round. By this point, he thinks you're a saint, you're so kind and patient and like- he's just- there

Honey, you are the PERFECT GAMER BOY WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT-

Idia sees you one day sketching a lot, while you look at him intently sometimes. Was pretty nervous about what you were doing, but ultimately melt when you show him you were sketching him.

He's so flustered, embarrassed and happy at the same time because he didn't expect you to draw him, and he wonders why you wanted to draw him, but he's really happy you wanted to.

It makes him feel special <3

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mc-lukanette · 3 years

Text

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

—————

Luka took a breath as he hit the last emotion-filled note on his guitar. His body vibrated just as his strings did, though he realized soon enough that there weren't enough high notes to lift him from feeling so low.

Marinette was Ladybug. He was still absorbing it, even though a part of him insisted that it should've been obvious; not just because there could only be one girl in Paris who was so brave, kindhearted, and suited for the job, but... well—

There was also only one girl in Paris who could be so unlucky. Luka was upset - angry, really - at all the things he couldn't have known that just proved to put more pressure on her. People idolized and adored Ladybug, but he never once thought that he wanted to be her. She didn't get anything from being a superhero outside of wasted time and the guilt of having to lie to everyone. He'd felt bad enough keeping Viperion a secret from his family, and he was only a temporary hero.

He sighed, setting his guitar down and raking his fingers through his hair. Marinette being Ladybug would've been enough of a shock on its own, but Adrien being Chat Noir made everything both worse and more complicated. In the midst of all the realizations he'd been having at the time, he felt lucky that he was able to get Ladybug - Marinette - to believe that his mind had just drifted for a moment. She'd still looked worried, but there was nothing he could've told her at the time, his mind too scrambled to be certain what the right steps were.

He'd always imagined that past snakes had learned of other's identities before as well, and thus had wondered before what he'd do if such a thing ever happened. Chat wasn't the one "in charge," so Luka wasn't worried about him (at least not in terms of talking about identities), but Ladybug was a different story.

Previously, he would've said that he'd tell her without hesitation, but the problem was that she was Marinette and the way he found out made things messy. If he told her that he knew, she'd blame herself and demand to know what happened for him to know so she could try to "fix" it, except there was nothing to fix and a conversation about his abilities would inevitably lead to talking about Adrien being Chat Noir.

In essence, he was at a roadblock. There was probably no "right" solution either, as he figured Sass might tell him; that even seemed to be the message Sass wordlessly sent him as Ladybug took his miraculous back. He’d probably known, and maybe had intentionally given him the power to see red strings on heroes in the first place. He didn’t know for sure because he couldn’t ask, aware that it would make Ladybug even more suspicious after he’d already tried to assure her.

What he did know was that Chat was something else to think about now. Chat was tied to her, and he knew - everyone knew, really - that there was drama going on in their relationship. He'd done only a little digging and Face to Face was all the evidence he'd needed, as if seeing the two interact in person wasn't already enough.

There was a pressure there, for Ladybug and Chat Noir to be a couple. Chat Noir was a habitual flirt, and most people ate up any drama or “juicy details” about their relationship. Everyone went wild for the hand kisses that Chat gave Ladybug, whether or not she pulled away from it. Add on the red string of fate, and it just made everything worse, making him wonder what the ties meant; did Adrien's string being tied around his ring mean that he became the cat through fate, specifically so—

It made Luka feel gross just thinking about it, and knowing what he knew made it even worse; people were shipping his friend with someone she wasn't interested in, even if it was "one side" specifically that she wasn't interested in.

He shook his head, feeling vaguely possessive. It wasn't about Marinette being his friend; it was about her deserving better than something deciding her fate for her.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a familiar jingle, pulling out his phone to see a message from Marinette.

Are we still on for tonight?

FOR THE FIRE I MEAN.

I just don't want you to get in trouble! You're sure???

He chuckled, his shoulders easing at Marinette's usual enthusiasm. It was adorable that she was worried about him and not what they were planning to do.

He typed back immediately, I'm sure, Marinette. Don't worry.

He glanced at the drawer under his bed, where all the Adrien pictures were. He imagined Adrien's face plastered all over Paris, flashing back and forth between Adrien himself and Chat Noir.

He felt like he shouldn’t be shocked by the revelation, though he wouldn't be able to quite explain why.

—————

Luka looked over his work once more, checking to make sure the fire would start properly. It'd been a while, but he at least hadn't gotten rusty and even got a congratulatory pat on the back from his mother when she'd seen him carrying the supplies. Had she known that it was Marinette's decision to do this, she would've married them on the spot herself.

As he eyed the box of Adrien pictures set out, he had to bury another slew of thoughts. He knew it was right to try and get rid of Marinette's string, but and he felt guilty knowing that he’d be satisfied at seeing the pictures burn for reasons outside of Marinette.

Speaking of whom, he looked up as he heard a familiar set of footsteps to see Marinette herself heading towards the Liberty, having just made her way down the stairs. She was dressed fairly lightly for nighttime, but wore a fluffy pink shawl around her shoulders to make up for it. Considering what they were doing, it made sense that she wasn't concerned about the cold.

The gangplank had already been put up for her, so she walked across with a smile that warmed him more than the eventual fire would. "Hey."

He smiled back, plopping down comfortably on the seat behind him. "Hey."

She gripped her shawl closer to herself as she glanced at the setup for the fire, the moonlight briefly shining off of her earrings. Luka attempted to avert his gaze from them, but only ended up staring at the red string around her neck. He gave up looking at her entirely at that point, checking the setup again as if it was extremely important to do so.

"You can sit anywhere," he offered, gesturing vaguely to all of the mismatched seats he'd placed around the future fire. He'd wanted to make sure she'd have options, though he hoped the designer side of her didn't mind the chaos of it all. He'd just grabbed whatever spare seating they'd had.

Marinette's eyes scanned over the various choices. Giggling, she replied, "Thank you."

He nodded in acknowledgment. He wasn't in any hurry to get the pictures burned, even if burning them was their goal that day. He'd intentionally had her go slowly so as to test the red string as little as possible, and he planned on doing the same here.

"I brought one for you too," she suddenly said off to his side.

He looked over in curiosity and noticed her open purse, a large piece of blue fabric nearly bursting out of it. It took a bit of effort from her - he imagined that she'd wanted it to be a surprise - but she managed to pull it out, presenting him with a shawl that matched hers exactly outside of its color. He smiled in appreciation of her thoughtfulness, then reached for it before realizing with a start, "Wait. Marinette, did you make these?"

Before she could answer, he took the shawl in his hands, turning it every possible way. Without a doubt, it was her handiwork, and along the back was where the design broke with a Marinette.

"Yeah," she confirmed, and he could practically hear her shy blush. "It's just—you're doing this for me, but even if you weren't, I don't want you to get cold, so..."

"It's great," he cut in firmly, leaving no room for doubt on her end. "Soft. Comfortable. I wish I was better with fashion to say more."

"No, you said more than enough," she assured, taking a seat next to him. That fact looked both silly and intimate given the multiple other seats she could've chosen instead, but he tried not to think about it.

Instead, he gave a curious glance at her pink shawl, silently comparing it to the one she'd given him. "...You didn't have to make it blue," he commented, and clarified before she could think anything bad, "I would've happily worn your colors."

She gave him a look, though didn't seem weirded out by the idea. "But... it's pink."

"What's wrong with pink?" he asked, genuinely confused. "It's your color."

She blushed, her shoulders hunching forward shyly. He didn't even bother taking back what he said, because he meant it; he might've favored blue when he picked out an outfit, but pink made him think of her.

It was much better than red at the very least.

Marinette pursed her lips in response, idly tugging at her shawl and seeming to be in an internal debate with herself. Apparently making a decision, she closed her eyes and breathed up, letting out a soft, "Okay."

He blinked and gave a tilt of his head to show his confusion. "Okay?"

She turned to him, resolutely pulling the fabric off of her shoulders. "T-then you can wear mine?"

He couldn't get another word out, too distracted by Marinette leaning towards him and carefully settling the shawl around his shoulders. Despite the bold move, she couldn't keep eye contact with him, awkwardly hanging onto the front of the shawl as she stared at his lap. She wasn't exactly warm or exuded any particular body heat - in fact, he was sure that her hands would be cold if he held them - but there was a comfort there that couldn't be matched by anyone else.

It took him a moment to make a move, at which point he remembered the fabric underneath his fingers. In a motion equally as careful as hers, he raised the blue shawl and settled it around her shoulders. She finally met his gaze, surprised, but smiled gratefully and released her grip on the pink shawl.

"You can keep it," she said quietly, with less shyness than before.

"Really?" he asked, placing a hand on the fabric to make sure it was what she meant.

She nodded, gripping her own as she replied, "A-as long as I can keep this one in exchange?"

He snorted, even covering his mouth to stifle a chuckle. "You made them, Marinette. Of course you can." He gave an obvious glance at the shawl to admire it. "I'd be happy to match with you."

She beamed at him. "Me too."

That topic officially concluded, his mind went blank for anything more and both of their gazes drifted to the unlit fire. He didn't have to look to know that she was shifting in anxiety in her seat, either wanting to back out or just get it over with.

"Are you ready?" he asked experimentally.

"Yes," she responded, perhaps a little stiffly but the resolve was there. She wanted this.

Luka stood briefly, and within the next few moments, the fire had been lit. The flames started out faint at first, then grew until it was something respectable, easily illuminating the small area around them. The slight chill from the wind dissipated as the fire warmed their skin, Luka hearing Marinette sigh in content harmony with him.

Neither of them took their shawls off despite the increased warmth.

The additional light from the fire made the box of pictures more obvious, with it sitting on a table not too far away. Luka took a step towards it, but Marinette was faster, grabbing up the box and turning to him with a determined expression.

"I have to do it," she insisted.

He didn't exactly disagree - this wasn't his battle - but it didn't stop him from looking nervously at the red string, the dangling part of it laying across her hand and dipping itself in the box, taunting him.

"How many do you want to do at a time?" He was careful in his wording, not wanting his tone to imply anything.

She furrowed her brows, staring down at the box in deep thought. Her fingers flexed against the cardboard, a small gust of wind blowing by and causing the fire behind her to whip around in protest.

"...All of them," she muttered, then met his gaze cautiously. "Will that be okay?"

Luka glanced at the fire, but it wasn't that he was worried about. The string would try to fight her, he was sure of it, and the only thing he wasn't sure of was if it would be better or not to let her go with her wishes. He half expected the string to physically drag her off the Liberty, and the mere thought caused his neck to sting.

But, he also believed in her. She was fighting fate herself without having used the snake even once, and he wasn't going to deny her if she thought this was best.

"Yeah," he assured. "Just don't get too close. I don't want you to get hurt."

She nodded, obviously not catching onto what he really meant.

Luka sat down on his chair, toying with the rips in his pants to keep his hands occupied as he watched her. Her posture was straight and confident as she faced the flames, despite the shake in her hands, and he was sure the fire in her eyes wasn't just a reflection.

He didn't see Ladybug in her place. There was only Marinette and everything that he already knew about her. Knowing what he did now wasn't surprising, but heartbreaking, and he couldn't be prouder of her for doing what she was trying to do.

To go against what everyone - even fate itself - expected of her. He couldn't relate on her level, but looking as he did and having the mother he did, he understood.

Finally, Marinette stepped forward, and the string was already tightening around her neck. She froze, shutting her eyes and clutching the box tighter as she mentally fought the sensation.

He barely managed to keep himself still.

She swallowed, taking another step and managing to open her eyes again. She squinted at the fire, either from the light or from her own resolve.

Then, all at once, she thrust the box forward, the pictures flying out and mingling with the flames. The fire flared up in response, practically roaring, and the string tightened further in protest. Marinette even let out a cry as she tossed the box aside.

Luka barely had time to react when she suddenly rushed towards him. He outstretched his arms and she filled up his lap, her heart seeking him out as she clutched his jacket. He wrapped his arms around her, hoping his comfort came through without words.

Her breathing was ragged, and he couldn't tell whether it was from the string or her emotions running high. He brought one of his hands higher up on her back, knowing that he could do nothing more for her but wishing he could.

He took solace in the fact that the worst of it was over.

Staring over her head, he watched as the pictures burned, blond turning black as the flames singed the pictures and reduced them to ashes. Marinette, meanwhile, remained against him, desperately clutching his fabric for wordless support. He honestly would've been okay being the only spectator to what she'd done, but she then shifted in his lap to glance behind her.

They watched the sight together, the fire whipping about with the wind like it was making sure the job was done as they'd wanted. In no time at all, there was no evidence of the pictures left outside of what was allowing the fire to burn brighter.

Marinette let out sigh of relief, collapsing against him again and nuzzling his chest. "What's wrong with me...?"

"Nothing," he replied, clutching her tighter. "You were amazing."

She looked up at him, possibly searching his expression to ensure he meant it, then offered a tired smile. She shifted again, but this time without any urgency or need. Luka sucked in a breath as she nestled her head against his shoulder, making herself comfortable on his lap while still being in a position where they could watch the fire together. Slowly, he relaxed, and they ended up not needing those other chairs after all, neither moving from their comfortable positions.

And, maybe it was just him, but the string seemed looser around her neck than it ever had before.

#au: Dread String of Fate #Dread String of Fate: writing #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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catcze · 3 years

Note

Hi there. Can I request Childe, Xiao, Zhongli and Albedo With a talkative and clumsy gn! S/o? Thank you so much!❤️

Have a nice day!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

!!⠀Feat : Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo (separate) x GN! Reader

!!⠀## : Fluff n cutesy stuff <3

Something quick and sorta short bc I’m facing writers block ;-; Hope you like it though, hun!

⠀ ᝰ Childe

He can be a chatterbox himself when he’s around the right people, so the two of you can hold conversations for literal hours. It never gets boring though, because both of you know how to carry conversations and keep it interesting, even if its about the most mundane topics. He’d probably find your clumsiness funny, like when you’re mid-conversation as you stroll through Liyue Harbor, and nearly trip on the stairs had Childe not caught you. He’d laugh about it, and how you’re ‘falling for him all over again.’ The only way you you refute his claims is with a joking grin and, ‘But that must mean that I’ve somehow fallen out of love with you.’ Neither of you take it seriously, though, and that’s the beauty of it. Childe’s quick reflexes and his aptitude for being able to treat minor injuries is very helpful during more serious situations though–– you couldn’t could the number of time’s he’s had to patch you up because your hand slipped, or because you hadn’t noticed something was in your way. He’s always so gentle, too, and if you wince or flinch away from the salve he applies on your cuts, he’s always sure to give you a peck on the cheek and thank you for bearing with the pain. Those nights where he spends precious minutes of his time applying the cutest bandages on your cuts and icing your bruises are the nights when, despite the endless jokes and chatter from the both of you, the love is felt rather than said.

⠀ ᝰ Xiao

It’s an unexpected pair, to be sure. At first, Xiao surprised himself when he realized he was attracted to you. He was a skilled, quiet, poised adeptus after all, and you could hardly go a couple of minutes before filling the silence, dropping something, or injuring yourself. Sometimes all three. It took some adjustment on both of your parts, but at the end of the day, Xiao doesn’t regret giving your relationship a chance. Although he is one for silence, he finds that he had grown used to your voice and how you’d enthusiastically update him about the most mundane things. There was a cat down the street down your home that allowed you to pet it? The price of fish in the market had gone up again? You nearly fell off a cliff the other day? No matter what it was, Xiao was going to hear about it. Oddly, he doesn’t mind when you talk about anything and everything under the sun, and though he tries to deny it, it’s begun to feel... strange when he’s by his lonesome on the quiet balcony of Wangshu Inn. Incomplete, even. However, your clumsiness is definitely something he could do without, for your sake. Some days are less of a heart attack–– just him being concerned when you stumble up to the usual place with a limp in your step or a bruise on your skin. Xiao isn’t familiar with how those who are not quick to heal deal with their injuries, but he tries his best to not put too much pressure when he ices your leg, or not to wrap the bandages too tight. He’s so concentrated on not messing up, it’s very sweet of him. He’ll berate you for not seeing a healer, but when you explain that you missed him and didn’t want to keep him waiting, he’ll give you a half-hearted scoff and scolding. For his sake, pretend you don’t see the blush or the way his eyes can’t meet yours.

⠀ ᝰ Zhongli

Zhongli himself can be quite the talkative person when certain topics are introduced, but he’s always so interested to hear whatever you say, too! You two probably have a system for who gets to ramble–– like you get to unload about some incredibly interesting facts about Whopperflowers and Regisvines, and Zhongli will happily listen to you and periodically ask some pretty interesting questions too, and as soon as you’re finished with your topic, then it’ll be his turn to talk about some interesting client they had at the funeral parlor, and how he had to go out to obtain some specific items for the parting rites, and somehow it’ll cycle into the differences between LIyue’s climate now and the climate hundreds of years ago. It’s actually a very enjoyable agreement, because you both learn something, and you get to hear each other talk for lengths of time. Unlike your long-winded talks, your clumsiness is a funny contradiction to his poise and grace. Sometimes, as you two walk down the cobblestone streets, he’ll be practically gliding along in such a smooth, fluid walk, while you have to be incredibly careful to not lose your balance every couple of seconds. Zhongli is sweet, though, because once he knows of your clumsiness he’ll try keep your hands intertwined, or your elbows interlocked to that it’s easy for him to catch you before you injure yourself. Being very, very old and battle-trained, he’s also very capable of catching items that you’d drop. He never complains about any of it either, merely smiling to you in such a gentle way, and saying, ‘It’s my pleasure.’

⠀ ᝰ Albedo

Aside from when he talks about his alchemy and his research findings, Albedo is typically quiet, so like Xiao, he was also somewhat surprised when he realized that he liked you. You tended to go off on tangents when you talked, after all, and sometimes not everything you said had a particular main point to it. Despite it though, Albedo could never feel as if his time was being wasted when he did nothing but listen to you and your ramblings. Your voice is oddly soothing to him, and as much as he loves his research, he’s been told before (by you, actually) that sometimes it’s good to take breaks from it. It just so happened that he considered his one-sided talks with you as those breaks. He doesn’t interrupt you usually, unless it’s to add his own opinion on something in the conversation he found interesting. If he can relate to a topic enough, he’ll even actively converse with you! Those times, you try to slow down how fast you talk, too, since you’re happy when he’s able to involve himself in the conversation, too. Something that you two definitely talked about was boundaries, though. For example, he doesn’t mind having you with him while he does his research, but he’s warned you ahead of time that he prefers to work in silence so that he can concentrate on his work. Not to mention, he acknowledge that your clumsiness could be... a bit of a safety hazard when around such dangerous objects. Albedo tried to word it nicely when he broke it to you, though, since he’s been told before that he can come off cold and blunt, but he’s genuinely trying to do better for you, and that his was important because it regarded both his work and your safety. He wouldn’t want you to clumsily injure yourself in his lab, nor does he want to potentially endanger the both of you due to his lack of focus. You understand though and keep away when he’s busy, and he always makes sure you know he’s grateful, though he’s missed you when the two of you next meet. At the end of the day, the two of you are doing your best to make your relationship work, after all.

#Childe x reader #Xiao x reader #Zhongli x reader #Albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #Catte’s Works 🦩#Cw GN reader

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sunsents · 3 years

Text

Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.

#angst #hp angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley series #reader insert #harry potter fluff #harry potter fic #fred weasley imagine

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starlingflight · 3 years

Text

James Sirius’ First Display of Magic

It was a small gathering by Weasley standards. Arthur had been simply delighted by the Muggle barbecue gifted to him by Harry and Ginny as a late birthday present and had immediately sought to try it out.

Molly, possessing years of experience with Arthur's experiments had insisted on forgoing the invitations to the rest of the family until she could be certain he knew how to work the contraption now taking pride of place in The Burrow's back garden.

Harry had offered to take the kids home for dinner, but Arthur had been adamant that he, Ginny and the kids stay and appreciate the gift they had given him.

"I think dinner's going to be a while," Harry muttered to Al as he settled beside him on the picnic blanket Ginny had laid on the ground only a few minutes ago.

The news didn't seem to concern Al who was much too busy picking up sticks and twigs from the grass beside them and comparing them before throwing away the ones which, Harry assumed, had been deemed unworthy.

A bottle of butterbeer floated across the garden, coming to a stop in front of Harry's face. "Thanks, Molly," he called, plucking the bottle from the air and tilting it in the direction of his mother-in-law who was standing by the back door, holding a cauldron cake just out of James' reach.

Harry took a long pull from the bottle, closing his eyes for a second and appreciating the crisp spring breeze upon his face and the aroma of newly-bloomed snapdragons drifting to him from the flowerbeds.

His peaceful reprieve did not last long. The sound of Ginny's exasperated voice drifted to him much as his butterbeer had done.

"Dad, it'll be so much quicker to use your wand."

"It's a Muggle barbecue!" Arthur cried. "We must use matches, Ginny!"

Harry grinned to himself, able to imagine, without opening his eyes, the frustrated expression currently adorning Ginny's face.

"Wand," said a much closer voice and Harry felt something sharp poke him in the ribs. Albus grinned up at him, waving his latest stick wildly through the air. "Wand," he said once more.

"You've got a wand, have you?" Harry asked, smiling proudly at him.

Al nodded as he continued to wave the stick with abandon. His eyes focussed on the tip of the ‘wand’; his round cheeks turned red from the effort of concentrating.

Harry continued to watch Al, listening to Ginny and Arthur’s increasingly frustrated conversation until, finally, there was a whoop of joy and he turned to see the two of them hugging. Flames danced upon the coals and the smell of smoke began to drift across the garden.

It was at that moment that Al, seemingly bored of his stick, threw it carelessly to the side and took off, running as fast his pudgy legs could carry him towards the opposite side of the garden where a particularly grumpy looking group of gnomes had just popped up from a hole in the dirt.

“They bite, Al!” Harry shouted, hauling himself up from the picnic blanket in order to chase after his son.

Al shrieked loudly as he ran, obviously too overcome with excitement to listen to his father’s warning. Fortunately, the noise alerted Ginny to his presence. With a speed that had been honed over her years as a professional Quidditch player, she turned and grabbed Al before he could reach the waiting pack of gnomes.

His capture did not seem to bother Albus, who squealed loudly as Ginny proceeded to throw him into the air before catching him securely against her chest.

“Where are you off to?” She asked Al as Harry reached her side. “Was Daddy not paying you enough attention?”

“Daddy was giving him plenty of attention,” Harry said, reaching over and taking Al from her. “I’m just not as interesting as garden gnomes, apparently.”

“I’ve been telling you that for years,” Ginny said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Would one of Nanna’s cauldron cakes hold your attention?” Harry asked, ignoring Ginny as he turned his attention to his son who was wriggling in his arms, desperate to get away.

“You’re going to spoil his dinner,” Ginny warned.

Harry looked up from Al and smirked at her. “Who’s the boring one now?”

Ginny rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. “Naughty!” Al declared, pointing a stern finger in Ginny’s direction.

“Yes,” Harry agreed, already turning away from Ginny and carrying Al towards the table set up near the back door where Molly and James still stood. “Your mummy is very naughty.”

James was still jumping, though it seemed he had worn Molly down some time ago, judging by the traces of chocolate smeared across his face.

Harry settled Al into the highchair beside the table, securing him with his wand before reaching over and placing one of the freshly baked cauldron cakes arranged in the centre of the table on the tray before Al.

It was impressive how quickly Al managed to make a mess. Harry watched as he succeeded in smashing the majority of the cake between his hand and the tray. “See, you won’t ruin your dinner like that,” he muttered.

His attention wandered from the destruction Al was wreaking upon Molly’s baked goods, to James, who was still hopping like a kangaroo in front of Molly.

“I can jump higher than Louis!” James declared.

“Well, Louis is a few months younger than you,” Molly replied fairly, her hands on her hips and a look of amusement on her face.

“I can jump higher than you!” James said, as though he had not heard Molly at all.

“Of course you can!” Molly said through a chuckle. “Nanna’s can’t jump!”

James paused for a moment, as though considering his grandmother’s words. A hand reached up absently to brush through his unruly auburn hair. He turned, fixing Harry with a questioning stare. “Nanna’s can’t jump?”

“No,” Harry said seriously. “Everyone knows that.”

The doubt disappeared from James’ face immediately, apparently trusting that if his father said that Nanna’s couldn’t jump it must be true.

“I’ll show you,” he said decidedly, turning back to Molly and taking her hand.

“It’s no use, James!” Molly protested. “I simply can’t jump!”

“It’s easy, Nanna” James said dismissively. He tugged on Molly’s hand until she bent her knees. “Now, jump!” James instructed, launching himself into the air.

Molly stood up straight once more with an expression of faux concentration. Her feet did not leave the ground. “I told you, Nanna’s can’t jump!”

“Nanna,” James said, his expression more serious than Harry had ever seen it. “That’s silly.”

Harry caught Ginny’s eye from across the garden; they grinned at one another before Ginny’s hand moved to her mouth to conceal her laughter.

“Try again!” James said, pulling on Molly’s hand once more.

This continued for some time. James, apparently unwilling to accept that his grandmother would never be able to do something as wondrous as jumping, became increasingly erratic in his movements until Harry had to move Al’s highchair further away, lest he fall victim to one of his brother’s flailing legs.

“Give it up, James,” Harry said eventually. Just watching his son bounce up and down endlessly was beginning to make him feel exhausted. “Nanna’s can’t jump, there’s nothing to be done about it.”

“One last try,” James said solemnly, widening his eyes and schooling his features into an expression that neither Harry nor Molly had ever been particularly good at saying no to.

“One last try,” Harry agreed through a sigh.

James crouched low, his bottom only inches from the ground as he gestured for Molly to follow his example. Molly bent her knees in a rather more dignified manner.

“One…Two…Three!”

This time, Molly jumped, her feet leaving the ground by mere inches. James, however, did not have the opportunity to savour his victory. His own jump had been more powerful than anyone would have rightly expected. Harry watched, his heart crawling into his mouth as James soared higher and higher, until he came to land upon the roof of The Burrow.

“Merlin!” Molly exclaimed, her hands flying to her face. “He hasn’t done magic before has he?”

“James!” Harry yelled, jumping from his seat at the table; barely hearing Molly’s question. “Don’t move! Stay right where you are!”

James’ laughter was audible even from a distance, his wide smile of delight was easy to see.

Harry was a fully trained Auror, he had extensive experience in dealing with high pressure situations, but seeing his son balanced so precariously on the roof had made him blind with panic.

“I’ve got him!” Harry heard Ginny call, though he was unable to tear his eyes away from James to look at her.

He withdrew his wand from his pocket, willing his hand not to shake as he held it poised, ready to cast a cushioning charm should James slip and fall.

A moment later, Ginny appeared, hovering in front of James on one of the old broomsticks from the shed. Harry watched intensely as she gripped the broom between her thighs and scooped James off the roof, seating him firmly in front of her.

Ginny landed smoothly on the grass in front of him. Al applauded his mother’s daring rescue attempt enthusiastically and Harry felt his heart begin to retreat back into his chest as James' feet touched the ground once more.

“Did you see that?” he asked, looking excitedly between Molly and Harry.

“I did,” Harry said faintly, lowering himself back into his seat before his legs gave out beneath him.

“Now you know,” Molly said, giving Harry a satisfied look as she patted James lovingly on the head. “What you lot did to me when you were younger.”

“Burgers are ready!” Arthur called triumphantly, seemingly having missed the commotion owing to the excitement of his new barbecue.

“Sorry doesn’t quite cut it, does it?” Harry said.

#hp fanfic #dad!harry #james sirius potter #molly weasley #harry potter #ginny potter #fluff #so much fluff

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

Roommates – Part Two

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,363

Warning: Smut

Note: This plays in 2020.

Three days had passed and your new little toy had become your new lockdown obsession. You never had an orgasm so strong and your two best female friends thought that it was rather amusing when you told them about it over a glass of wine.

Every Tuesday evening, you skyped with Laura and Elenore in your room for at least an hour while enjoying some alcoholic beverages and tonight was no different.

But, since living with Cillian and following his breakup with Laura, you had to be careful about what you were saying as you didn’t want to upset either of them.

Laura clearly wasn’t over the breakup and continuously asked you about Cillian, finding it somewhat strange that you were living together and, whilst you assured her that you were not interested in Cillian, she struggled to believe you.

You hadn’t told Laura about Cillian’s hook ups with Lindsay and made it clear to both of her and Cillian that you weren’t going to discuss their respective private lives with the other and would appreciate if they were going to accept your position in this regard.

Whilst Cillian did, Laura sometimes couldn’t help herself and dwelled on about how she missed Cillian. Clearly, she was still in love with him and, whilst you reminded her that you aren’t a messenger between him and her, you were quite willing to listen to her and provide emotional support as a friend.

When, however, the topic of intimacy came up in your conversations, you couldn’t help but cringe.

According to Laura, he was quite a devil in the bedroom department and you felt as though your wanted your ears to explode every time Laura brought up specifics.

This, again, happened tonight when your sex toy recommendation turned into something else entirely and you learned that you missed out on so many things with James.

According to your friends, what you and him used to get up to was quite ordinary and you learned that your best friend and roommate was much more adventurous than your ex-fiancé.

‘You did not have sex at the theatre…oh my god’ you said in disbelieve when Laura told you one of the many stories in which you learned that Cillian had quite a thing for risky public relations with his female partners.

‘Who would have thought huh? He seems all so quiet and shy, but he really isn’t’ Laura confirmed, making you to take a rather large sip from your glass of wine.

‘Apparently so’ you then giggled before you also learned that your new house mate was hiding some things in the basement.

‘Common, you’ve been living there for three months now and you never wondered what the hooks in the ceiling of the basement are for?’ Laura then asked and you couldn’t help but choke on your wine. A sex swing perhaps, you now wondered?

‘I think I have heard enough, thanks. Can we please change the topic?’ you asked somewhat embarrassed but, it wasn’t the fact that you learned these kinky facts about Cillian which embarrassed you. Rather, it was the fact that you got aroused by the thought of him doing those things. This, in turn, made you uncomfortable and you didn’t like that you were fantasising about him in any way at all.

You even had started to have dreams about Cillian over the past few days, causing you to wake up aroused and wet and forcing you to seek relief. You never felt like this about him before and you wondered why this was happening now.

Was it the fact that you saw him every day, sometimes even half naked as he carelessly moved through the house? Was it because you were bored and sex deprived? Or was it because your bond had become stronger after he helped you and supported you through your break up?

You didn’t know what it was that caused you to have these thoughts about him but you noticed that they had become more prominent and you found yourself looking at his body more frequently when you were around each other.

****

But you weren’t the only one checking out their roommate. Cillian quite obviously did the same.

It was Wednesday morning that he came back from doing the grocery shopping as you were in the kitchen, dancing and making pizza dough.

You didn’t even notice Cillian walking in as you shook your booty to some loud music while giving the dough a good workout.

Wearing nothing but a cotton singlet and cotton briefs, you were twirling around the kitchen just you twirled around the dough. Your top wad covered in flour and so was your hair and face.

Cillian’s chin dropped and inhaled sharply before putting down the shopping bags.

‘Having fun there?’ he asked, startling you and making you drop one of the empty plastic bowls.

‘Absolutely’ you smiled before bending down in front of him and he couldn’t help but wonder how far your tattoo on your right thigh extended upwards.

Whilst Cillian put away the groceries, you finished preparing the dough and set aside to rise before cleaning the mess you had made.

‘I am going out with the dog shortly, do you want to come?’ you asked but Cillian declined your offer.

There was something else he needed to do.

***

Knowing that you had left the house, Cillian made his way to the basement.

‘This is ridiculous’ he said to himself as, once again, his erect cock was straining against his tight jeans after he saw you dancing around in the kitchen.

There was something about you like this, in your black cotton panties and your black singlet, messy hair and your top covered with white dust from the flour moving to the beat of “Touched” by Part Human. Your nipple piercings were clearly visible through the thin top and the tattoo on your upper thigh was barely covered.

It wasn’t even the kind of music he liked, nor did he like tattoos or piercings on women. He didn’t want you. Or did he? He wasn’t so sure anymore but, what he did know, was that he needed to get off yet again.

Opening up his laptop he was quick to flash up the internet, but it wasn’t a porn website which he decided to visit. To the contrary, Cillian felt the need to listen to this very same song again, picturing you in his head, dancing and slowly loosing the little amount of clothes you were wearing.

He placed a towel onto the large office chair in front of his desk and, after sitting down, Cillian unzipped his jeans and pulled them down slightly, releasing his raging erection. He leaned back against the chair comfortably, closed his eyes and caressed his shaft gently.

Using an open hand, he massaged his cock and balls at the same time while imaging you, dancing for him. There was no time for guilt as every stroke of his hand sent a shiver down his spine and every exhalation released tension from his already throbbing cock.

Cillian then used his other hand to move upwards and with a lick of the forefinger, massaged the back of his bulging head, much like the way you tease a wooden clit.

But it was no longer his hands he imagined stroking him, it were yours instead and he squirmed under the overwhelming pressure of anticipation. Panting and short of breath, Cillian opened his eyes like one waking from a nightmare.

It didn’t quite feel right just yet and he quickly reached into one of the draws in his study desk and retrieved a tube of cherry flavoured lube which Laura had bought back in time. Cillian squirted the lube directly down his pulsing shaft and some of it ran over his tight balls and down into his clenching ass. The lube was cold but soothing and the scent of cherry-scented lube filled the room.

Cillian spread the lube all over his shaft with his right hand and began stroking, up and down, slowly at first and then increasing in speed. The sensation of it trickling down his ass arched his back, making his breath seize up.

The thought of you stroking him occupied his mind as he continued to stroke. He was sweating now, panting and wanting more. He could feel the surge through his testicles as he continued to rub his shaft and tease his balls.

His body lurched. Mouth open. Eyes closed. There was a surge of pre-cum, running across his thumb and, in his mind, he imagined you licking it off with your pierced tongue.

Then, finally, the roll of cum began as he continued to stroke his cock hard and fast. The orgasm was building, muscles contracting. Cillian’s cock was hard as a rock. One frantic gasp for air and release.

With a loud groan, Cillian came hard and his seed landed all over his upper thighs and the towel beneath him while his cock continued to throb and pulse in his hand. Cillian squeezed the last of his cum from his shaft with a final groan and, just as he did, he heard a voice in the doorway.

‘Oh my god, fuck’ you said with total embarrassment as you quickly turned around when you realised what you had just witnessed.

‘Fuck, Y/N, Jesus’ Cillian shouted out, cheeks flushing red.

‘I am so sorry Cillian. Please tell me when you are decent, alright’ you chuckled while Cillian quickly wiped his cum off his thighs with the towel and pulled up his jeans.

‘I am decent’ Cillian huffed out rather embarrassed and you turned around with a wide grin on your face.

‘Listen Y/N, this…’ Cillian began to say but you immediately interrupted him.

‘Cilly, there is no need to explain, really. We all have needs and its not that I haven’t seen your manhood before. In fact, most of the world has, although maybe not in an erect state’ you chuckled, thinking back at 28 Days Later.

‘I thought you were out with the dog, so, uhm…you know…’ Cillian barely managed to say.

‘I forgot the doggy bags and came down here to ask you where they were’ you eventually said and Cillian got up and showed you where he had put them.

‘Right, thanks, I am going now, see you later’ you then said before commenting on his choice of music to masturbate to which, of course, embarrassed Cillian even more.

***

For the remainder of the day, you couldn’t get Cillian out of your mind. The picture of him masturbating was stuck in your mind and so was the picture of his hard cock and cum covered thighs.

There was no way you could go to sleep like this and you pondered on about what Laura told you and how dirty minded this man really was.

From light BDSM to anal sex, you were certainly turned on and you were feeling ashamed about it. He was your best friend for god sake and yet all you could think about was his hard cock.

With those thoughts running through your mind, you reached for your other more conventional vibrator and lay back and open your legs as wide as they will go before placing the tip of your vibrator at the entrance to your dripping pussy.

Whilst you felt guilty about it, you imagined it be Cillian’s hard and glistening cock instead of your vibrator, pausing for just a moment before gliding it home.

‘Fuck’ you whispered, unable to keep completely silent, and began sliding the vibrator in and out of you. The fullness felt amazing and you loved it but you couldn’t get enough. You were aching for more, for Cillian’s warm skin on yours instead of the hollow air and the cold vibrator in between your legs.

But your mind went even further than that, imagining the cum you had seen on Cillian’s thighs inside of your pussy, filling you and dripping out of you slowly. You even wondered what his cum would taste like and feel like in your mouth as you began pleasuring yourself harder and faster.

You were desperate now, your eyes closed, picturing your best friend making love to you. Imaging that this is him slamming himself into you over and over as he tells you that you are his. It's almost too much, but at the same time not enough.

You stopped for a moment and pull the toy out suddenly, almost cumming as you did. Quickly you reached down with your left hand and used your fingers to dip them inside, soaking them in your juices. You began pumping the vibrator into you slipping and sliding over and over in a constant motion. Fucking yourself faster, harder in desperate need.

Your left hand had also increased in speed, furiously drawing circles around your twitching swollen clit and, after only a few seconds you explode without making a sound.

The explosion was overpowering from waves of pleasure from inside you coming out and along every inch of your skin. They started before the last one ended, rippling forever upwards throughout your whole body.

Your clit suddenly too sensitive that you had to remove your fingers gently and bask in the glory of it. But, it only took a moment for the guilt to set in.

You knew you had to do something about this but, with new COVID restrictions having been introduced, you knew that you were stuck for now. You wouldn’t be going anywhere and all you could do is distract yourself from your filthy thoughts about your closest friend.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

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