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vintageshanny · 8 months

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Waiting for Love - Part Two

Pleasure and Patience

Thank you so much for all the positive comments about part one! It really means more than you know to get that feedback. ❤️ Let me know if you want to be added or removed from tag list.

Content: Summer of 1970, marriage problems, infidelity, smut, some angst, some fluff, 18+

Catch up here: Part One

Vivien arrived back at her apartment building around 6:30pm to find Roxanne pacing back and forth outside the door. “What the hell, Vivien, I was about to call the police and have them send out a search party! Where have you been?” Vivien looked away guiltily as Roxanne continued her rant. “I was worried sick! Are you just getting home from the movies now?”

“No, of course not, Rox, I got home really late and then I went out today and I was gonna call you as soon as I got back,” Vivien explained. She let them both into the apartment and Roxanne dramatically threw herself on the couch. “Tell me everything, and we’ll see if I forgive you,” she announced.

“Okay, so here’s what happened. There were a lot of people at the theater, but I did run into him. I guess he was looking for me. We talked a little bit and then he gave me a very tight hug and invited me to Graceland today to talk about books with him,” Vivien was interrupted by Roxanne’s gasp.

“He invited you over? Did you go? Is that where you’ve been? Tell me!” she demanded.

“I’m trying to, if you’d quit interrupting,” Vivien retorted. “We were having a really nice conversation, and then he was interrupted by a phone call from…Priscilla,” her voice dropped to an embarrassed whisper. “And I think you were right - they don’t seem to be doing too well. He started to tell me how they have nothing in common and then he kind of just changed the subject and got very flirty. And affectionate,” she added. Roxanne leaned in closer, almost holding her breath as Viven continued. “I think I was sending him signals, though. I know he caught me looking at his…thing.”

Roxanne stifled a snort at Vivien’s terminology. “How did it look?” she grilled. “Was it big?”

“It looked pretty nice through his pants,” Vivien admitted. “And thick. Also, I don’t think he was wearing any underwear because it kind of flopped around.”

“Oooh, ready for action, I like it!” Roxanne exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.

“I don’t think it’s like that though,” Vivien tried to clarify before she gave the wrong impression. “I mean, I don’t think he’s unfaithful just for the fun of it. I think he’s genuinely lonely. It seemed like he enjoyed talking to me as much as he enjoyed me accidentally flashing him. Maybe more.”

“Wait, what?” Roxanne almost jumped off the couch at that. “Way to bury the lead, Viv.”

Vivien blushed as she explained, “Yeah, my nipple slipped out when I jumped in the pool.”

“You got to go swimming? This is sounding way more fun than my boring anniversary dinner with Michael,” she whined. “What did he say when it happened? What did he do?”

“With my nipple? Nothing. Nothing right then, I mean. Just made a joke about not having looked too much and comforted me because I was embarrassed.” Vivien couldn’t stop the little smile from spreading across her face at the thought of how sweet he’d been.

“Nothing right then?! Something happened between the two of you, didn’t it? Stop holding out on me!” Roxanne was ready to burst with anticipation of all the details.

“I’m getting to it, I’m getting to it. We were just kind of talking and joking around in the pool. Then he helped me up on the ledge because I was getting cold, and he just leaned in and kissed me! I couldn’t stop it, it was like a force of nature. Or magic or something.” Vivien felt silly trying to explain his aura.

“And how did that translate to him seeing your nipple again?” Roxanne continued her interrogation.

“Well, he just moved his lips down further and pulled my nipple back out and put his mouth on it. And then, um, and then he, uh, put his finger inside me,” Vivien could feel her face turning bright red. Even with her best friend, this was all starting to feel so personal. Roxanne didn’t seem to mind though, she was just relishing all the details.

“You were fingered by Elvis Presley? Some girls have all the luck,” she complained playfully.

“It wasn’t quite that glamorous,” Vivien admitted. “I got embarrassed because he could tell I was a virgin, and then he stopped right away.”

“Why were you embarrassed? Did he make you feel bad?” Roxanne reached out and gave Vivien’s hand a squeeze. “Do I need to kick his ass?”

Vivien smirked at that. As nosy as Roxanne could be, Vivien could always count on her to be the protector. “No, I think he actually liked it. It’s just embarrassing to be 21 and have almost no experience at all.”

“Oh, Viv, you need to stop being embarrassed about that. I bet a lot of guys would love to be someone’s first.”

“Well, he was very sweet about it all and said we didn’t have to do anything. I told him I didn’t want to be a negative part of his life and we should just be friends.” Vivien anxiously fiddled with the emerald ring her parents had given her for high school graduation. She always wore it on her right ring finger. “He seemed fine with that, I mean he even said he still wanted to see me again, but then when he said goodbye I could, um, feel his thing poking into me.” Vivien giggled a little bit at the memory. “Now I’m not sure what to do. If he tries anything again, I don’t think I can stop him. I’ve never had this…desire before,” she finished nervously, looking for Roxanne’s reaction. “Am I a horrible person?” Vivien couldn’t stop from tearing up, all the confused emotions of the last day hitting her at once.

“No, no, you’re not horrible. It’s not on you to make decisions about his relationship; that’s his job,” Roxanne comforted, pulling Vivien into a hug. “See, I knew he wanted to make a move on you. I still think you should just go with it and see what happens. Otherwise you’ll always wonder.”

“I don’t want to be just some random fling, though. It’s not like that for me. He’s…special. I mean, even apart from being Elvis Presley. He’s interesting and smart and funny. He’s actually really funny; he jokes around a lot. And his laugh makes things even funnier. And even his feet are cute!” Vivien finished with a flush.

Roxanne’s expression grew concerned. “Oh, sweetie, you’re in love already. You were just supposed to have a good time.”

“I’m not in love,” Vivien protested. “I just…care about him.”

“Well, what is your plan then? To just be friends and pretend you’re not attracted to him and his amazing laugh and his cute feet? That you don’t want to feel his thick manhood pulsing inside you?” Vivien’s face turned scarlet at that graphic description. “You can’t even think about him without getting flustered. Pretending your feelings aren’t there isn’t going to make you feel any better.”

Vivien nodded in acknowledgement of that truth. “I don’t know, maybe he won’t even call and then this will all just be over.” Vivien thought of how heartbroken she’d be at that, after knowing him for only 24 hours. What kind of spell did he cast on me? she contemplated.

“He’ll call,” Roxanne said confidently. “You’ve presented yourself as a challenge now.”

“It’s really not like that. He’s very sweet,” Vivien insisted, knowing how pathetic she sounded.

Roxanne smiled but still looked worried. “Just don’t get your heart broken okay? You always said you’ve been waiting for something special. What could be more special than this? I think you should just enjoy the experience and don’t make it more than it is.” She could see on Vivien’s face that this advice would not be followed.

“Yes, I should just see what happens, enjoy the experience,” Vivien echoed. “I’ll be fine,” she added, trying to convince herself more than anyone.

*************************************************

Vivien tossed and turned for what felt like hours, the events of the day replaying over and over in her mind. Sometimes at night she felt a yearning for the warmth of another person beside her, and tonight that desire seemed to have magnified tenfold. She couldn’t get out of her head the image of Elvis’ face, eyelids heavy with lust, as he touched her most sensitive area and groaned as if he were the one experiencing the pleasure. She finally drifted off to the fantasy of his arms wrapped around her, rubbing her back soothingly as he had done in the pool.

The shrill ring of the phone by her bed jolted her awake. She glanced at the clock and saw it was 2am. The only person who would call her at this time was Roxanne, after having one of her nightmares. “Rox? Is everything okay?” she said groggily as she held the receiver to her ear.

“Who’s Rox?” a deep voice drawled out, making Vivien’s stomach flip flop.

“Oh, I thought you were my best friend Roxanne,” she said, suddenly more alert. “Who is this?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Honey, it’s me, Elvis,” he said, and she was sure her pounding heart must have been audible right through the phone line. “I’m sorry if I woke ya. I-I-I c-c-couldn’t sleep,” he stuttered out, sounding a little agitated. “I-I need ta talk ta someone. Can ya come over?”

“Um, right now?” Vivien asked, wondering if she was actually still just asleep and this was all a dream. She dug her fingernails into the flesh of her arm, trying to force herself awake.

“Yeah, I would really ‘preciate it, honey,” he responded.

“Well, um, I don’t really like to be walking around at night too much by myself,” Vivien started to explain.

“Oh, honey, you ain’t got no car?” Elvis questioned. “We’ll have ta do somethin’ about that, but for now, I’ll have Joe come get ya.”

Vivien was too confused and tired to understand what he meant about the car, but she did somehow have the presence of mind to find out what she was supposed to wear to this middle-of-the-night soiree. “I’m, um, I’m in my pajamas.” It was half-statement, half-question.

“That’s good, honey, so’m I,” he said reassuringly. “Joe will be outside your building in ten minutes. I can’t wait ta see ya. Just come up the staircase and knock on my bedroom door.” Click. He’d hung up before she could ask any more questions or come to her senses about going to see him in the middle of the night. She looked down at her silky soft lavender pajama set, just basic pants and button-down shirt, and decided to trust him that it was fine. She was too anxious now to try to figure out something else to wear anyway. She wrapped her hair up in a bun, slipped on her sandals and a thin navy blue jacket, and headed out the door.

Joe seemed annoyed but not surprised that he’d been sent on this errand, and Vivien couldn’t help but wonder how often he picked up random girls in their pajamas and carted them back to Graceland. She decided now was not the time to ask. He said very little on the ride there, but she felt the judgment rolling off him. “You know what you’re doing?” he asked when they pulled in the driveway. Vivien blinked, wondering if he was questioning her life choices right at this particular moment. “I mean, do ya know where to go? In the house?” he clarified, an amused smirk playing across his lips as he realized her confusion. Vivien nodded wordlessly and followed him inside.

Once upstairs, she paused and thought for a brief second about running out the door and back to the emotional safety of her apartment. Or Roxanne’s. You’ll always wonder. Roxanne’s words played back in her head, and she raised her fist to knock on the door. Right at that second, it swung open and Elvis stood before her in a pale blue pajama set, similar in style to her own, but embroidered with a navy blue “EP” on the pocket. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes trailed over his body, down to his bare feet, toes scrunching into the soft carpet.

“Vivien, I’m so glad ta see ya,” his eyes crinkled in delight at the sight of her, and he reached out to wrap her in a warm hug.

“Um, me too, is everything okay?” Vivien asked, a look of concern etched across her features.

“I-I-I’ve just been real nervous, honey, and I can’t remember the last time I talked ta someone who made me feel so calm,” he explained, pulling her into the room and closing the door tightly behind them. “I hoped you could work that calming magic on me again.”

Vivien smiled and looked around the room, wondering where would be the polite spot to sit in someone’s bedroom. Elvis seemed to read her mind again and indicated she could sit on the bed. “I’ll try my best. What’s going on?” she asked as she removed her jacket, realizing right then that she had not bothered to put a bra on under her pajama shirt before coming over. She noticed Elvis’ eyes flit down to her chest briefly as she sat on the edge of the bed, but he didn’t say anything.

“I’m leavin’ the day after tomorrow for Las Vegas. I have to rehearse for my next set of shows there.” Vivien tried to hide her disappointment that he’d be gone. She just nodded, encouraging him to continue. She noted with delight that he fiddled with one of his rings the same way she did. “There’s gonna be a camera crew comin’ to rehearsals and ever’thing. They’re makin’ a movie, a concert movie, with some of the rehearsals and shows. I guess I’m just feelin’ nervous and hopin’ I don’t make a fool of myself,” he finished, shifting on his feet a little bit before coming to sit next to Vivien on the bed.

“A fool of yourself? I don’t think that would be possible,” Vivien said in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d even get nervous.”

“Oh, honey, I get nervous before ever’ single show,” he admitted with a little smile. “It’s gotta be right, y’know, I gotta give the fans what they deserve.”

Vivien reached over and squeezed his hand, the feeling of his skin on hers sending an electric shock through her. “Elvis, your fans will always love you. They see how much you give. I know I do,” she added with a blush.

Elvis looked up and flashed his crooked grin at her. “See, I knew ya could calm me down with your sweet words,” he said. “But I have ta tell ya honey, you’re kinda doin’ my head in with these, uh, signals ya keep sendin’.”

“What do you mean?” Vivien asked, her blush growing even deeper.

“I mean, you told me that ya jus’ wanna be friends, but soon as ya get here, you’re lookin’ me up and down like a hunter set on his prey,” he teased.

Vivien smiled a little but glanced away, trying to think of how to describe her confusion. “Elvis, I am very attracted to you, and I’ve loved talking to you, but I just don’t want to feel bad about getting in the way of your marriage,” her voice dropped to a whisper on the last word, not wanting to even admit out loud that he wasn’t really available to her.

Elvis sighed a little bit and squeezed her hand in between his two large ones. “Honey, listen ta me. When I’m with you, I jus’ wanna be with you. My marriage is complicated. Honestly it probably shouldn’t have happened, but there were certain obligations I had. And I don’t want to say it’s over, but we’re just not really together much like that anymore. It’s jus’ nothin’ you need to be worryin’ about or feel bad about. Like I told ya before, we don’t have ta do anything you ain’t ready for, but I would never look at you as something, y’know, nefarious,” he said with a smile. “You are a ray of sunshine for me. I don’ know what’s gonna happen in the future, but if you jus’ let go of feelin’ bad, we can really enjoy each other in these moments we have together. Do ya understand what I’m sayin’?”

Vivien nodded slowly, feeling all her resistance slipping away in the smooth avalanche of his words. “I understand. And I do want to enjoy you. I just don’t know how quickly I can-”

“Vivien, we can move as slow as you need,” Elvis interjected. “This isn’t even about that for me. I want your company. I like bein’ with you.”

“Me too,” Vivien whispered as she leaned in closer to his warmth. He tilted his head down and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Your lips feel nice,” Vivien murmured as he kissed her again, this time square on the lips, his tongue lapping against hers. He removed her glasses, set them on the nightstand, and pulled her all the way up onto the bed with him, the makeout intensifying, his hands tracing down her sides. Vivien felt a throbbing in her core that she’d never really experienced before.

“Honey, why don’t ya let me make you feel good tonight?” Vivien tensed a little bit at his request. “It’s okay, we’re not gonna go all the way, I jus’ wanna take care of ya.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about that nipple you kept flashin’ at me today,” Elvis said with a big crooked grin.

“That was an accident!” Vivien exclaimed, her cheeks flushing as she stared into his sparkling blue eyes while he leaned over her.

“Oh yeah?” he teased. “And what about you showin’ up here with no brassiere, enticin’ me right through this thin little fabric? Is that an accident too?” His long fingers circled around her breasts, getting closer and closer to her hardened nipples that were poking through the fabric of her pajama top. As his fingertips ghosted over first the point of one nipple and then the other, Vivien could barely remember how to speak.

“You, you told me to wear my pajamas,” she managed to get the words out, her entire body starting to buzz with some primal need. “This is how I sleep. And, uhhh,” she let out a moan as he cupped her breast with his large hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You didn’t tell me it would be like a meat locker in here.”

“Are ya cold, baby?” Elvis asked with a smirk. “Let me warm ya up a little bit.” He looked down at Vivien reassuringly as he started to slowly unbutton her pajama top. He pushed the plackets to the side until her entire torso was revealed to him, her breasts jiggling slightly from the way her chest was heaving with desire. Elvis let his fingertips trace over her bare skin. “I can’t get over how pretty you are, honey,” he whispered as he leaned down and started pressing soft kisses to her collarbone.

“Th-thank you,” Vivien whispered back, unsure of how much talking she was supposed to be doing. “That feels really good.”

“I’m only jus’ gettin’ started, baby. And this is a soundproof room, so don’ be shy, okay? You can let me know how good it feels.” Vivien nodded, her body trembling as Elvis drew a line with his tongue from her collarbone down to her nipple. He lapped at it before sucking it into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive tip of it ever so slightly. He caressed her other breast with his hand, rolling the nipple gently between his fingers, before switching and lavishing his oral attention on that one, spreading his saliva over the first one with his thumb. With every breath, Vivien let out a little moan of pleasure, her thighs starting to clench from how badly she wanted more of him. Elvis leaned up and whispered in her ear, “Are ya gettin’ wet down there, honey?”

“Mm-hmm,” Vivien moaned, and Elvis slowly moved one hand down her stomach toward the waistband of her pajama bottoms. She started to tense up, and Elvis kept whispering soothingly.

“I’m gonna be so gentle with ya, honey. I jus’ wanna take care of ya. If ya don’t like it, I’ll stop, I promise. Okay?” He kissed the side of her head affectionately as she nodded, and slipped his hand under her waistband and into her panties. “Oh, damn, baby, you’re so nice and wet for me, ain’t cha?” he groaned as his fingers slipped through the folds that lay below her little patch of pubic hair. Instead of trying to explore inside again, Elvis just let his fingers play around her entrance and then slide through the wetness to her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure.

“Oh, Elvis!” Vivien yelled out, the pleasure suddenly starting to overwhelm her.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, leaning down to suck on her nipple again while he kept gently flicking her clit.

“Oh god, oh god, it feels so good,” Vivien’s eyes closed and her head tilted back as her legs started shaking around his hand.

“That’s right, baby, let yourself go, I’m gonna get ya there,” Elvis cooed, increasing the pressure of his finger.

“Elvis, I can’t, it’s, it’s too much, it feels too good, I can’t, I can’t take it, oh, Elvis, ohhh,” Vivien called out, barely coherent, as waves of pleasure coursed through her. Elvis slowed his movements as he felt her wetness coat his fingers. Vivien’s panting started to slow as she caught her breath, and she realized for the first time that something thick and firm was digging into her hip where Elvis was laying, rocking gently into her side. He slowly pulled his hand out of her pants but continued to stare into her face with an expression resembling awe.

“Have ya ever had an orgasm before, honey?” he asked softly, studying her state of bliss.

“No, no, I’ve, uh, never felt like that before,” Vivien said, blushing. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears springing to her eyes, although she had no idea why.

“Honey, there ain’t no need ta be sorry. That was beautiful, ta see ya experience that.” He wiped her tears away and kissed her sweetly on the forehead.

“I think I just feel a little embarrassed to be so inexperienced. I guess I’ve always been waiting for someone really special. Waiting for love, maybe.” She started to button her pajama top, suddenly feeling very exposed.

“Well, that’s a beautiful gift ta give ta someone you love,” Elvis said, the word “love” now hanging strangely in the air. The connection between the two of them felt otherworldly.

“It’s funny,” Vivien started out. “There’ve been people I’ve known for years who I struggle to open up to, and then you come along and it’s like an instant connection. I suppose that sounds silly.”

“Not silly at all,” Elvis responded. “I felt that connection too, especially when I saw that book in your purse. It was like a sign that you’d be someone special in my life.”

Vivien looked up at him with a smile. “So, um, did you want me to do anything to, um, take care of you?” she stumbled over her question, feeling excited but nervous to see that thing that had poked her a couple times now.

To Vivien’s surprise, Elvis looked a little bashful. “Not tonight, honey.” He chuckled a little bit when Vivien’s face fell. “Disappointed?”

“Well, I just, um, didn’t even get to see you,” she said, her face turning red. “It just didn’t seem fair.”

“Not for lack of tryin’, though, was it honey?” he teased. “I’ve seen ya lookin’ down at him enough times.” Vivien’s face flushed even more at that. “It’s okay, though, I know he likes ya.”

“How do you know?” Vivien whispered, trying to will herself to stop blushing like a schoolgirl. Elvis grabbed her hand and placed it on his pajama pants, right on top of his still-hard penis. Vivien could swear she felt it pulsing under her palm. “Oh,” she breathed. “I like the way it feels.”

“And he likes ta be felt by ya, honey. He’s gonna make me light-headed in a minute,” Elvis laughed.

“But you don’t want me to-”

“Naw, honey, I told ya, tonight was about you. About makin’ ya feel so good. There will be plenty of time for all the other things we can do with each other. Patience, little one,” he whispered, snuggling her in next to him so that her head rested on his chest. Vivien drifted off to sleep feeling like she’d experienced some little piece of paradise.

*************************************************

Back at home early Sunday evening, all the emotions began to hit Vivien again. Elvis had been very sweet when they’d woken up earlier that afternoon, but she could tell that he and his entourage were busy getting ready to leave for Las Vegas the next day, so she told him she should probably get back home. He promised to call her soon and had Joe drive her back to her apartment. If she thought the judgment was bad on the way to Graceland, the icy ride back was downright unbearable. She’d almost have preferred to walk home in her pajamas and jacket. Elvis had offered to find her some clothes to wear, but she knew whose closet they’d be from. She drew the line at wearing another woman’s clothes home after falling asleep in her husband’s arms. Although with Elvis, the line seemed to keep moving.

With Roxanne not answering her phone, Vivien sat alone with her thoughts, loneliness suddenly consuming her. What have I done? Given myself to a man I can’t have? Will I ever even see him again? The tears began to flow as Vivien contemplated what to do next. Is falling in love supposed to hurt so badly? Be so confusing? The phone ringing pulled her back to reality. “Hello?” she tried not to sniffle directly into the receiver.

“Honey? Ya okay?” Elvis. “It sounds like you were crying. What happened?”

“No, I’m okay, I was just, um, missing you,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Aww honey, that’s sweet. I miss ya already too. That’s why I was callin’. I was hopin’ you might be able to come visit me for a few days in Vegas, see me rehearse.”

“I’d love to Elvis, but I have to work. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to take time off.” Vivien’s spirits immediately started to lift with the reassurance that he wanted to see her again so soon.

“We’ll get that all sorted out, sweetheart. Don’t be sad, okay? I’ll be thinkin’ of ya. Stay good for me, okay? Remember what I told ya - patience. We’re gonna see each other again soon. I-I’ll call ya when I get there tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting,” Vivien said, smiling through her tear-stained face. “I, um, I’ll be thinking of you too.” Vivien fought the urge to tell him she loved him. It had only been a few days, after all. But what other feeling could bring her from despair to cloud nine just from hearing someone’s voice?

Tag List (please let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love @pebbles403 @deniseinmn @everythingelvispresley @little-laamb @annapresley8 @leapresley @littlehoneyposts

#elvis #elvis fan fic #elvis fan fiction #Elvis smut #Elvis x oc #i love this man

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diangelofan · 25 days

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An Unexpected Friendship

I guess most people in this fandom wouldn't probably celebrate Percy Weasley's birthday, but I really like him (despite being such a stick in the mud sometimes). So (belatedly) here's some Percy and Oliver friendship!

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September 1st, 1987

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit with us on the train ride to Hogwarts?” “Yeah, Perce, it’ll be fun! We’ll introduce you to our mates!”, Bill and Charlie Weasley stared back at their younger brother expectantly.

“I am sure. I wanted to get up to speed with my reading”, Percy raised his arms to show his heavy volume of Hogwarts: A History, “I would like to have finished it by the time we arrive at the castle.”

Maybe he should have gone with his brothers’ proposition. They, being the popular and “cool” older brothers they were, would probably never ask him to sit with them again. His two younger brothers, twins Fred and George, always made fun of him for being “such a huge bore” (thank Merlin, there were still two years before they came to Hogwarts as well; Percy shuddered just thinking about all the trouble those two would get into).

But he hadn’t lie when he said he wanted to finished his book. He had stopped at the chapter dedicated to the Ghosts of Hogwarts and it was quite fascinating…

“Okay, Perce. Enjoy the ride!” “Yeah, who knows, maybe you’ll make some friends of your own!” And with those words, Percy’s older brothers closed the door of his compartment closed, waving as they went. Percy waited till he could no longer hear their loud footsteps and voices before submerging himself in his reading.

Friends, sure, I’ll make some, Percy thought bitterly. He had never been able to form a friendship with the twins, who were the closest to his age (Molly homeschooled all her kids, so he had never spent much time with children his age), and, instead they always found something to mock him about. But, sure, maybe he would make friends.

The pass of time became irrelevant, as Percy sat and read for what could have been many minutes or hours. He had long since finished the Ghost Chapter and was nearing the end of a chapter titled The Chamber of Secrets (probably all just some legend, but interesting nevertheless), when he heard a knock on the door, followed by a small head peeking into his compartment.

“I am sorry, but all the other compartments I’ve been to were full. Could I sit here?” The other boy was also wearing plain black robes, like Percy, meaning he was another first year. Percy would have preferred to stay alone for the ride, but it seemed too mean to just deny the other first-year boy’s request when his compartment had more than enough space for the two of them.

“Okay. However, I am reading, so if you could please remain silent, it would be highly appreciated.” There you go with the “pompous” vocabulary, thought Percy, now the boy is going to look at you weirdly. It had happened before during dinner time. Percy would make a comment on the topic of conversation and he would only received confused glances back. A consequence of reading too many classic novels, textbooks and dictionaries, probably… oh well…

To the red haired boy’s surprise, the other boy just nodded and smiled, taking a book from his satchel: “That’s fine. It gives me the chance to reread my favourite book Quidditch Through the Ages for the second time today.”

And thus, the two boys spent most of the train ride in this manner, sitting quietly beside each other while reading their respective books. It was quite enjoyable, in Percy’s opinion.

It must have been a couple hours later when Percy’s reading was interrupting again (he was just one chapter short of finishing) by a tiny cough and a nervous voice stating: “I finished my book… It was quite interesting! Even though, I’ve read it almost like a million times before, I always get so surprised when reading about the origins Quidditch and how it all started! It’s truly fascinating…! I love-! …Sorry, I realize I am rambling like a fool… I just wanted to introduce myself: I am Oliver Wood and I am first year, which I think you are as well… right?”

Oliver’s face had quickly passed through different emotions during his small speech: from nervousness, to excitement, to joy, to embarrassment, and then back to being nervous. While Percy’s first idea had been to quickly answer with his name and continue reading quietly, something in the other’s boys words had really resonated with him. That excitement which what he read had incited in him, as well as the embarrassment when realizing he was rambling about a very niche and bookish topic, was something that Percy had experienced a couple of times before. He knew how it felt to have his “boring” interests dismissed (even if that had not being the person’s intention at all) and he refused to do it to somebody else if he could help it. Afterall, he could read the remaining chapter before going to bed that night.

Thus, he closed his book and smiled, answering the other boy’s question: “Nice to meet you, Oliver. My name is Percy Weasley and, yes, I am also a first year.”

“Oh, great! Finally someone I can commiserate with! I am sooooo nervous about Hogwarts… though it’s also all really exciting!”, exclaimed Oliver.

And that’s how the two boys spent the rest of their ride to their new school. They talked about their families (Percy going into a rant about the troubles the twins could get into with their little pranks, while Oliver told him how his parents had spent weeks telling him stories about their time at Hogwarts in anticipation for the event), what house they would be in (both mentioned that it was very probable it would be Gryffindor as that was where most of their family members had ended up in), and the things that most excited them about Hogwarts (for Percy, it was learning about magic in all those new different ways, while for Oliver, as the huge Quidditch enthusiast he seemed to be, it was watching and, starting in his second year hopefully, playing at the Interhouse Quidditch Cup).

Percy didn’t know Oliver’s opinion, but when both boys got together into one of the little boats that would transport them to the castle, the red-haired boy thought to himself: Well, this seems like the start of an unexpected friendship. Maybe his brothers had been right, after all, and he had nothing to worry about in the friends department. Yeah, just maybe…

#percy weasley #percy/oliver #oliver wood #perciver #perciver fanfiction #my fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #fanfiction #one shot #percy weasley deserves more love

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mrsjobarnes · 2 years

Text

Not the only Cowboy - Chapter 3

Summary: Jake had never been the type of guy to fall first, maybe you’ll be the one to change that.

A/N~ Sorry this took so long guys, school is kicking my ass right now. I’m a double major so my course load is massive. I hope you enjoy it! xoxo

Jake Sersin x Nurse!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warning: Drinking, flirting, and kissing Asshole Ex. Let me know if I missed anything!

Likes & comments are welcome!

Please do not steal my work!

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Nat what am I supposed to wear, I haven’t been on a date in years,” you said panicking on the phone.

“I'm still confused about why you asked Bangman on a date,” Nat said giggling. You rolled your eyes and kept rummaging through your closet. “Why don’t you wear that blue sun dress you have and your sandals,” Nat said.

“You’re a Guinness Nat,” you said smiling, grabbing said items, and running into the bathroom to change. “And to answer your question I asked him out because he seems funny and kind”

“Okay well text me if you need me to beat his ass or save you. Love you, have fun, bye,” she said.

Right as you finished you heard a knock at the door.

“Coming” you yelled from the hallway as you returned to your room to get your shoes. Once you open the door you are met with Jake in a white button-down and khakis. “Well don’t you look handsome,” you said.

He smiles and blushes “Thank you, sweets, you look stunning,” he said kissing you on the cheek. “Shall we go?” he asks.

You all decided to go to dinner before going to the club. You all decide on burgers, which is your favorite. “So tell me about something random about you,” Jake asks with a smirk.

You think hard about it and respond, “Okay I know this is weird but I have a fear of birds” you say blushing. Jake tries his hardest not to laugh. “Don’t laugh it’s not funny” you say giving him a look that only his mother gave him, which shuts him up real quick.

“I’m sorry doll, it’s just a little funny. Can you at least tell me why?” he says smiling.

“So when I was younger I went to a petting zoo and they had a field and coop where you could pick up the chickens so I went to pick up a chick and it turns out it was actually a baby goose and mamma goose didn’t like that and proceed to chase me till I dropped the chick. Ever since then, I’ve been terrified of all birds,” you say looking down at the table embarrassed. Jake looks up at you and realizes what he did.

“I can understand that, if that happened to me I would be scared too,” he said. “I think my biggest fear would have to be those tiny dogs,” he said with a sincere look on his face. Now it was your turn to laugh except you didn’t keep it in. “Har har har laugh it up but why do you get chased one of those satan spawns don't come asking me for help,” he said smiling at you. He could listen to you laugh all day. “Tell me something else about you,” he said

“Oof umm I like history like I’m a huge nerd,” you say blushing

“I like history too but what part of history?” he said raising his eyebrows

“Hmm I’m fascinated by anything from the Industrial Revolution to the Vietnam War, I know that’s a broad timeline but yeah oooooh I also really like true crime,” you said.

Jake’s eyes lit up “I obviously have a fascination with military history. I am fascinated with world wars and what the repercussions are. I also really like true crime. What is your favorite,” he said, seeming genuinely interested.

“Like my favorite crime or?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, yes, and as you thought about it, your food was brought out “I would have to say like high profile murders or assassinations. I don’t know what it is but I find them so interesting. What about you?”

Jake takes a second to think about it. “I have a weird fascination with cults. I have no idea what it is about them, I think it all stems from the whole Waco Texas thing happening when I was growing up,” he said. The conversation carried on until it was time for the bill when you both raced to pay for it. “Y/n please let me pay, it’s just how my mama raised me” he said pleading with you.

“Jake, would you just let me, please, it’s my treat,” you said with starry eyes. Jake had to fight with all his might not to let you win this. Just add it to the list of things he really likes about you. Once the waiter gets to the table he snatches it before you can. You give him a huge pouty face, “Fine you won this time but I'm buying drinks’ you say smirking. When you walk to the car he races in front of you to open your door. On the ride over to the club you continue your true crime discussion when your favorite song comes on the radio and you start singing and dancing along in your own little world. Jake was mesmerized by you, you made him feel something he didn't think he was capable of.

Once you pulled up to the club you walked straight to the bar and ordered a Long Island iced tea and Jake ordered a beer. Sadly he beat you to paying again much to your dismissal. “Jake once we finish these we should dance,” you say smiling. Suddenly ‘I Like It Like That’ by Cardi B came on and it was like a switch flipped in your brain and you pulled Jake onto the dance floor. You put his hands on your waist and started dancing without a care in the world. Jake was a great dance partner. “Have you taken ballroom dancing classes?” you ask smiling because he had such grace when dancing.

“Yeah, I had to take my sisters to Cotillion,” he whispered in your ear before twirling you around. After a couple of songs, you guys get water and go to the bathroom. While freshening up in the bathroom you couldn’t fight the blush on your cheeks. You had never had this much chemistry on a first date. Walking out and towards Jake you see a redhead hanging all over him, you quickly get upset and charge at her but before you can say anything he gently pushes her off of him and says “I'm on a date ma’am, sorry” and he walks to the other side of the bar. You stand there grinning like an idiot, you can’t wait to tell Nat. He is sitting on a stool as you approach him. “There you are sweets, here is your water with lemon,” he said, slinging his arm around your waist pulling you to stand in between his legs. “Can’t have the Navy’s best nurse having a hangover” he said, kissing your cheek. He pulled back and you gave him a lustful look. Finishing your water you pulled him to the dance floor when ‘Dancing with Our Hands Tied’ By Taylor Swift came on.

“Ahhh I love this song” you shout pulling Jake onto the dance floor. As you guys dance you feel nothing but safe in his arms, you could get used to this. A couple of songs later you guys decided to call it a night.

As the night comes to a close, he walks you up to your door. You can tell he wants to come in but you’re not ready. “Thank you for this wonderful date. I hope we can have a second one” you say kissing him on the cheek turning around and walking into your house. Jake stood there with the biggest grin contemplating how he could one up this date.

—

Monday at work all Jake wanted to do was find a reason to go to your office. He tried complaining of a headache, upset tummy, and a paper cut to which Mav just laughed.

“Hey blondie,” You said walking into the lounge. Jake’s head shot up and a smile broke out on his face. “Heard you had a Paper cut that was life-threatening,” you said grinning while the rest of the team giggled. Mav had come into your office begging you to go give Jake attention so he’d finally do his work. “We can’t have one of our best not feeling well,” you say grabbing your lunch from the fridge.

“I'm feeling so much better now that you’re here,” he said, smirking as you sat next to him at the table. Everyone continued their conversations, while Jake just kept smiling at you.

“So what's on the agenda for today?” you say. Maverick answers your question and starts to go into detail, Jake looks over at you and can tell that you are lost. He leans over and starts translating pilot language into understandable terms. “So after all that are we getting drinks?” you ask and are met with a hardy yes from everyone looking at a Maverick who planned a hard day. You chuckle and finish your lunch. When your pager goes off saying you have a patient, get up to return to your office, Jake springs up and offers to walk you. On your way there you strike up a conversation about how you want to get a cat.

“I just don’t get how you want to get a cat when a dog is a great option,” he said in a serious tone. You just looked at him and giggled.

“Well I’m not at home enough for a dog plus cats are just as fun,” you say looking at him for a second before walking into the clinic and stopping at the counter to be given the patient’s file.

“Okay we’ll agree to disagree, but before you go to work I want to know if you’ll go on a date this Wednesday?” he asks with a shy smile. You kiss his cheek.

“I would love that,” you say before walking into the examination room. Looking down at the chart you walk into the room. You look, your stomach drops and tears start to well in your eyes, you thought you’d escaped him.

“Hey Baby,” he says with his classic smirk.

“What are you doing here Blake,” you ask slowly, stepping back and trying to grab the door handle.

“I came to get my fiancé”

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@novagreen04

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#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake hangman x you #jake seresin imagine #Jake Seresin x Nurse!reader #top gun #top gun maverick

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wwinterwitch · 2 years

Text

middle ground — moon boys x fem!reader

summary: you had the pleasure of meeting jake a while back and you can't deny he's...interesting (part one here)

pairing: marc spector x fem!reader, steven grant x fem!reader, jake lockley x fem!reader

word count: 6.3k

warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), dom/sub dynamic, fluff, dom!marc, sub!steven, dom!jake, established relationship (with marc and steven), dirty talk, grinding, oral (m and f receiving), face sitting, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), riding, pegging, various kinks (daddy/mommy, hair pulling, choking).

note: part 1 is not really a requirement before reading this one but since I wrote this thinking of it as a part 2 maybe you'd like to read that one as well

a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

navigation | marvel masterlist

You just recently had the pleasure of meeting Jake Lockley for the first time. You already knew he existed, but never got the chance to actually be around him. At first, you absolutely hated the guy. He was nothing like your two boyfriends. He was mean, hostile, and cold. Whenever he was around, you would pretty much try your best to stay as far away from him as possible and not talk to him at all. You were certain that, if you decided to talk to him, he most likely won't have anything nice to say.

But during the last few weeks things have begun to change between you two. He was still talking like he didn't care about you in the slightest, but when you eventually stopped paying attention to the words coming out of your mouth, you started to notice the way he was acting.

Not talking to him actually gave you a whole lot of time to observe him. It was hard for you to ignore the silent glances around the apartment. How he would stay that extra second close to you whenever the two of you would bump into each other when one is trying to leave the room and the other wants to enter it. How he eyes you up and down whenever he thinks you're not looking.

It has become clear to you that, even when he tries to act like he doesn't care about you, he does. It's clear he wants you. And sure, you thought he was the meanest guy ever, but you couldn't deny that deep down you were enjoying having his silent devotion.

It's fun to know you've made quite the impression on him when he used to present himself as this unreachable guy, too busy with other things to care about his love life.

Still, you're not quite sure what to do about it. It's not like you're not worried about Steven and Marc because you know they'll be okay about it if you talk to them, but it's still...unexpected. They know you're having a difficult time warming up to Jake, so to go to this so quickly will be a bit strange for them to hear. Would Jake even act on it? Would you? It was all too confusing.

Even when you try not to think about it, Jake is always at the back of your mind. It's confusing because you don't know what or how to feel towards him. It's infuriating because he insists on acting like you don't matter to him when his body language tells a completely different story. And it's also extremely frustrating because you have absolutely no idea what to do or say anymore when it comes to Jake.

It was almost embarrassing to admit you were glad he hadn't shown up today. Marc had breakfast with you this morning and around lunch time Steven gave you a call to check how you were doing. Now that you're back home, Steven was fronting.

And perhaps Steven noticed your inner struggle at that very moment because he walked away from the food he was making to sit next to you, immediately grabbing your hand and giving you the sweetest of smiles. "You okay there, love?"

"Yeah, of course," you reassured him.

"You know you can talk to me."

"Honestly, if we go there we'll be talking for a while and I don't want dinner to be ruined."

"That– no, it can wait," he quickly replied, standing up to check everything before sitting back down. "We have time. Don't worry."

You considered whether to tell him or not one last time before leaning back on your chair, Steven waiting for you to tell him whatever was on your mind. That has got to be Steven's biggest talent. He can read you like no other person has ever been able to. Of course he'll notice something was wrong.

"It's...Jake."

"What did he do now?" he asks, frowning with worry.

"Well, that's actually the problem," you say sarcastically, but of course Steven didn't understand what you meant by that. "Look, I think I might– potentially..."

Steven looked as lost as ever. "...yes?"

"Steven," you muttered, a bit shy to confess what was going on.

"What? I don't– Oh...oh! I see," he chuckles a bit. "Well, this is news to me. How did this even happen?"

"Nothing has happened. Nothing will happen. I just...I need time to see where it goes. I might just have mixed feelings or something."

"Well, he does look like your boyfriends," he comments jokingly, letting out a quick chuckle. "Listen, I think it's great. No need to rush things. You have all the time in the world to get to know him a bit more to figure out what those feelings mean."

"I guess. He scares me a lot, though."

"I'm sure you can handle it," he says reassuringly, leaning closer to you for a quick kiss before he has to stand up again. "Have you told Marc yet?"

"No, but I will. I just wasn't counting on you asking."

"I'm offended. How could you possibly think I wouldn't notice something was wrong?"

You roll your eyes at his comment, failing to hold back a giggle. "I know, I know," was your reply as you stood up from your chair, walking towards Steven.

He was by the stove cooking. He got back from the museum carrying a bunch of groceries and saying he wanted to cook for you tonight, despite cooking not being his strongest suit. Still, he loved spoiling you in different ways and you appreciated the gesture.

You couldn't hide your smile as you wrapped your arms around him from behind, noticing the way he kept glancing at the cooking book next to him while he continued to stir the food in the pan.

"Everything looks good," you say as a way to calm him down. He was always a bit stressed out when he decided to cook something, afraid he's going to mess it up.

"Thanks, love," Steven replied. "I don't know how Marc does this so easily. Cooking is positively stressful!"

"The fact that you still offer to cook dinner for me despite it being difficult already means the world to me, Steven," you say reassuringly, gently kissing his cheek. "I should be the one thanking you."

"Yes. Me not burning the flat down is something to be grateful for, 'innit?" he remarks, making you laugh again.

—

Marc was fronting when it was time to go to bed. You got out of the bathroom just in time to see him get under the covers to wait for you. As soon as you join him, he wraps his arms around you and leaves a kiss on your forehead.

"How was your day?" he asks right after the kiss.

Cuddles and night talks are a must before going to bed with Marc. You could stay hours talking and he'll stay hours listening. He wasn't much of a talker after all, so he always enjoyed hearing about what you have to say. Still, he has learned it's safe to open up to you, so it wouldn't be weird that some nights it's you the one hearing him talk until he's falling asleep in your arms.

"Pretty good, actually," you replied. "It was a co-worker's birthday today so I had cake after lunch. That was fun."

"Important detail you forgot to mention," he does a quick pause as you wait for him to continue. "Flavor."

"Chocolate fudge."

"Good choice," he nodded. "Was it good?"

"It was incredible. We should get one from that same bakery to surprise Steven– oh, and speaking of Steven, we had a pretty interesting chat when he got back from work."

"Yeah?"

You nodded. "I want to ask you something." He looked confused as he waited to hear whatever you wanted to ask him. "It's about Jake."

"What about Jake?" he asked, still looking confused. You stared at him for a few seconds until it finally hit him. "Really?"

"Maybe?" you say nervously.

"I mean, that's a new one. I thought you two didn't get along?"

"It's not like we don't get along. We just don't talk that much, and...I don't know, I was thinking maybe–"

"Hey," Marc quickly cuts you off, grabbing one of your hands in his. "I appreciate you telling me this, but you really don't have to explain yourself. Whatever you want to do, I'm okay with it. I just want to see you happy."

"I am very happy," you reply, snuggling closer to him. Of course Marc didn't complain, holding you close to his body. "And I'm incredibly lucky to have you."

"Oh, is that so? I would love to hear more about it," Marc comments jokingly.

"Or I can just show you."

"That sounds much better."

You giggle after his last comment, managing to climb on top of him with ease. Marc's hands rest on each of your hips as you lean down to kiss him, body fully pressed against his. It didn't take long for the kiss to deepen, tongues meeting as you slowly began rocking your hips on top of him. You can feel his grip tightening with each movement, starting to feel his erection growing underneath you while you continue to make out and grind against him.

Eventually, you pull away and sit up, adjusting yourself on top of him so you could move just a little faster, enjoying the way he would look down to see the spot where you're rubbing against him, eyes dark with desire.

"I want you in my mouth, Marc," you say. "Please?"

"Get on your knees, darling," he says in a rushed voice, feeling impatient already.

You quickly do as told, waiting for him. Marc stood up from the bed to remove his boxers, standing at the edge of the bed where you were patiently waiting to taste him. It was only when he grabbed your chin to force you to look up, capturing your lips in his, that you finally touched him. His audible reaction to your hand stroking him was completely muffled by your mouth as you two continued to kiss.

Marc eventually pulls away from you, so you quickly focus back on his cock. After stroking him a few more times, you waste no time before putting him inside your mouth. You look up just in time to catch his reaction, feeling insanely proud of yourself for being able to make him look like that when you're pleasing him. One of his hands is messily grabbing your hair as you continue bobbing your head, looking up at him at all times.

"Making me feel so fucking good," he praises. "Keep going just like that, baby...don't you fucking dare to stop."

You continued moving your head up and down, tongue swirling around his cock in the process. Despite feeling the saliva coating your chin and the burning sensation of tears, it never crossed your mind to stop or slow down. The speed of it was a little too much for your body to handle, but you didn't care in the slightest. If anything, it made it that much better. You didn't care about your throat hurting, or the tears rolling down your cheeks and the drool on your chin. All you really want is to make Marc cum. Whatever it takes, you need to feel him cum in your mouth.

You'd eventually take him out of your mouth so you could lick him instead, tracing all across the vein visible from near the base of his cock and up the length of him. Pre-cum coated your tongue as you focus on the tip, using your hand to stroke him in the meantime before putting him back in your mouth, starting to form a pattern he clearly seemed to enjoy.

As you were switching the ways you'd play with him, he held onto your hair and used that to guide your head, his hips meeting you halfway. A series of moans would leave his mouth, his sounds being intoxicating, making you crave his release that much more.

"You're doing so good...'gonna make me cum so hard inside that pretty mouth of yours..." he continues. "You're gonna swallow everything I give you like the good girl you are? Fuck, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth."

You had no other option but to rub your legs together after his comment. The fact that he could sound so sweet while saying the filthiest things drove you completely insane. And the way he makes you feel so loved and cared for when he's roughly fucking your mouth? Oh, that's just a few of the many things you love about Marc Spector.

His sounds are becoming louder, occasional praises and curses would slip past his lips in between moans as he's reaching his orgasm. You tease his tip with your tongue one last time before he's practically shoving his cock down your throat, a series of grunts escaping his lips as his cum leaks inside your mouth.

Your movements slowed just enough to let him climb down from his climax, making sure to swallow everything he's giving you. It's hard not to rub your legs together again at the scene in front of you right now: Marc staring down at you, brows slightly furrowed and his lips parted as he continues panting, hair messy from all the times he ran his fingers through it while you continued to suck him off. He looked completely satisfied by your work and you couldn't be more proud of yourself because, again, you are the reason he looks like this.

Marc barely gives you any time to contemplate him after he orgasmed, kissing you again just as intensely as before, tasting himself on your lips, which inevitably encouraged him to kiss you even more passionately– if that was even possible at this point.

His lips move from yours to your jaw, trailing down to your neck. He never lets go of you, not even when you're gently moving back to lay on the bed, him immediately mimicking your movements so he could still be kissing your neck while positioning on top of you. A moan escaped your lips when you felt his tongue trace across the skin there.

"Is it okay if Steven has his fun with you now?" he asked in between kisses. "I'm sure you won't hear the end of it if he knows we left him out," he added as a little joke, which immediately made you giggle at the thought of Steven's pouting and complaining you guys didn't include him.

All you could do besides laughing at his comment was nodding, enjoying the way he continued to kiss all over the sensitive skin of your neck and gripping your sides with his hands to keep you still underneath him. It only took a few seconds before Steven was fronting, pulling back from your neck so he could look at you.

"Well, hello," he says a bit shyly, realizing he's completely naked and topping you.

You smile at him, your hand cupping his face affectionately as you recognize him. "Hi," you replied.

He leans into your touch, eyes trailing down your body until he was met with one of their shirts, quickly looking back up. "Should we– can we take this off?"

You knew with Steven you'd always be in charge no matter what. Unlike Marc, Steven absolutely adores following your every instruction while you two have sex. He enjoys being told what to do, wanting to please you in any way he could.

"Now, where did your manners go, Stevie?" you asked back, smirking when you saw Steven's mortified gaze as he quickly panics.

"Please," he says almost too quickly. "Sorry. Can we please take this off?" Steven added shortly after, looking like a sad little puppy that knew exactly what he did was wrong. He's just too cute to handle.

"Don't look so frightened, baby. I just wanted to remind you to be nice."

"I know. I'm just...ashamed."

"It's okay," you reassure him in a soft voice, pulling him closer for a kiss he immediately returned. It didn't last that long though, as you pulled away shortly after. "Of course you can take my clothes off."

Steven's eyes light up with excitement after you allow him to undress you. He quickly got rid of the shirt you were wearing, his eyes immediately landing on your breasts. He looked up at you first, his eyes so innocent and gentle you swore he was doing that on purpose. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you gently pull him towards your chest, hinting he could do whatever he wanted.

His mouth practically waters at the sight in front of him, his tongue tracing circles around your nipple before capturing it with his mouth while his hand makes sure the other is being taken care of too, gently massaging it and occasionally teasing your nipple with his thumb in sync with the way his tongue would tease the other.

Moans leave your mouth as you hold onto his hair. You could feel yourself getting even more wet at the feeling of his mouth and hands worshiping your breasts with a devotion only Steven could bring you. It was like he was in a complete trance, enjoying every second of it, so thankful that you allowed him to play with your tits in any way he wanted.

Your hand sneaks underneath your underwear to attend to the ache in between your legs, starting to rub your clit while Steven continued. As soon as he noticed you were masturbating, he pulled away from your chest. "Can I help you with that? Please, mommy?"

Fuck. You love when he calls you that.

"Mmh, you want to help mommy, baby?"

Steven nods eagerly, his puppy-like eyes shining brighter than ever at the possibility that lies ahead of him. "Y-yes, please!"

"So eager," you tease. Steven instantly felt embarrassed, but he loved it. "How about...I ride your gorgeous face until your mouth makes me cum?"

Steven looked like he just got offered the most amazing treat ever, almost as if his biggest wish had come true at that very instant. If he could, he'll be thanking you for hours after this.

He moved back from your body to give you enough space to stand up, him quickly laying on the side of the bed to wait for you. It was impossible not to smirk when you noticed how excited he was about this.

With your legs at each side of his face, you began to sink down closer to his face. You practically gasped when his tongue was finally in contact with your folds, tasting every inch of you he could possibly reach.

Your hips rock slowly, allowing you to treasure every second of his tongue against you, his nose occasionally hitting your clit. It was evident from the way his arm wrapped around you that he didn't care that you suffocated him in that very moment.

The rhythm increased, Steven making sure to suck on your clit and tease your entrance whenever he got the chance. He's determined to be messy, apparently. That would explain why he's being so loud while eating you out. You bet his face is covered in the mixture of your juices and his saliva too. He's making a complete mess underneath you, which only helped to turn you on even more.

"Feels so fucking good," you moaned, looking down at him with a big grin on your face. "It's a shame you can't look at yourself now, darling. It's like you were meant to be underneath me...so pretty, Stevie...so pretty..."

Steven's eyes soften, looking up at you, almost pleading with you before he increases the speed of his mouth, starting a vicious attack on your pussy as you continue to grind your hips.

One of your hands grabs his hair, fingers tangling in it to roughly pull his hair. The gesture makes his dick twitch, moans significantly louder as they vibrate against your core sach time you pull.

"You're making mommy feel so good," you praise once again. It was evident Steven was enjoying your words just by looking at his eyes. "You're– oh, fuck! Right there, keep– keep your tongue out just like that, baby boy," you instructed.

Steven does as told, sticking his tongue out and holding still while you grind against it as fast as you possibly could, your eyes closing shut as your moaning increases.

You were barely able to hold onto the headboard of the bed as you cum all over Steven's face. He begins to lap at your folds viciously, drinking you up like a thirsty man. He lets you take your time until you're ready to climb off him.

As soon as you're standing up you're connecting your lips with his, tasting you on his lips and feeling how wet his chin and cheeks are as you begin to make out. His hands rest at your back, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as he's kissing you back, the honesty and vulnerability of his kiss making your head spin.

You're so wet already, it's no problem for you to grind against him. Your hand travels down to straighten his erect cock against his stomach, allowing you to move up and down the length, repeating the movement a few times just to see him practically tremble beneath you.

"You want to be inside me already, don't you?" you ask, smirking when you notice his reaction to you speaking to him.

"Please," he mutters desperately. "Don't get me wrong, love. You feel amazing while you're grinding against me, but I need to be buried deep inside mommy's pretty cunt now."

You practically moaned after his statement. "Such a filthy mouth."

"I know how much you like it when I talk like that," he replies innocently. "I just want to be good."

"And you are," you agree with him, catching the excitement in his eyes when he feels your hand wrapping around his cock, helping to align himself with your entrance. "Such a good– perfect," you add as you're slowly sinking down, Steve's gaze mesmerized as he contemplates every inch disappearing inside of you, "little boy."

"You're so tight..." he groans.

You stay still on top of him for a second. "Feel it, Stevie. I won't move so you can feel how deep you are...filling me up so good."

"That– that feels so fucking good," he let out, visibly desperate. "It feels fantastic but I need you to move, love. Please?"

His breath got caught in his throat when you lean down so your face could be closer to his own, the movement making you shift just slightly, causing some friction Steven highly needed at that moment. "Want me to move, darling? You so badly want it you could beg for it?"

"Y-yes, mommy. I'll do anything...I'll– shit," he rambles, interrupted by the way you suddenly began riding him, hands instantly placed at each hip. "You feels so good..."

He's already a complete mess underneath you, his hands squeezing your ass as he tries to speed up your already quick moves. It's evident by the way he looks back into your eyes the second your hand wraps around his neck that he's enjoying this just ten times more now that you began choking him.

Steven made sure to grab your ass at all times, trying his best to practically make you jump on top of his cock. You continued to choke him, praises eventually falling from your lips before he returned your kind words with a slightly louder grunt.

Your movements didn't slow down, continuing to ride him at a speed that had both of you a mumbling mess. The way he kept sliding in and out of you with such ease, your juices coating his cock, the wet sounds caused by your moves and the sound of your skin crashing against his...it was all too good to handle. Not to mention the way his cock would repeatedly hit that sweet spot inside of you, or the faces he would make as you ride him.

Steven looks entirely at your mercy. Like a poor man who has absolutely nothing to offer but his undying fidelity, swearing he'll stay by your side and worship the ground you walk upon. All that, he's willing to do for you if you continue to jump up and down his cock. If you cum on top of him right now, he's entirely yours forever.

A series of pleas would leave his mouth, practically imploring you to cum as hard as you possibly can. His words are having the desired effect as you cry his name out loud, eyes shut and the grip around his neck tightening just enough. It was evident you'll cum in no time.

"Please give it to me," he continued relentlessly, eyes almost watering as he looked at you with the biggest puppy eyes. "I need to feel that tight cunt all around me when you cum. Fuck– please mommy, haven't I been good to you?"

You almost wanted to punch him because this was definitely too much to handle all at once. "So good," was all you were able to say. "My best boy, about to make me cum so...so fucking hard, I–" you mumbled right before you lost it, your sentence cutting off short as your eyes roll to the back of your head before you're screaming out in pleasure.

Your orgasm hits you hard, back completely arched as you try to stay as still as possible, each sudden move making you shudder as you climb off the high of it all. Just when your senses were coming back, you could feel the last few twitches of his cock inside you, as he came just seconds after you did.

Steven didn't want you to move at first, his cock still buried deep inside you while you collapsed on top of him, your body as sweaty as him. You feel him kiss the top of your neck by the time one of his hands begins softly moving up and down your spine, the contact making you feel goosebumps.

"Are you okay, love?" he asks gently, wanting to make sure you had enjoyed what just happened just as much as he did.

"I feel incredible," you reply, making him chuckle.

"Good. That's good," he mutters. "You want to sleep now? Can I get you anything?"

"Sleep sounds nice."

Steven nodded, finally allowing you to roll over so you could lay on the bed next to him. Almost immediately, his arms wrap around you as he's kissing your head again, this time making sure to give you a quick kiss on the lips before pulling away entirely.

"Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight, Stevie."

—

"Looks like someone had fun," you hear as soon as you're fully awake, head turning towards the bathroom door. Jake was looking at you while you were still laying in bed. Instantly, your hands grab the sheets to cover your body as much as possible. "Relax, I wasn't looking."

Yeah, right.

You didn't say anything back to him and he didn't stand there waiting for a reply. Instead, Jake walked towards the wardrobe to look for a jacket, his back facing you now. As you laid there, only a pair of sheets separating your naked body from him, something took over you as you kept staring at him.

Maybe it was your previous night with the boys still clouding your mind. Maybe you're still thinking about all that happened, you can't help but wonder how it would feel to do all of that with Jake.

Would he be tougher than Marc? Is it all just a facade and he's actually an even sweeter lover than Steven? Is he a mixture of them or nothing like them at all? It was both intriguing and exciting to think about.

Oh, how you'd love to rip that shirt apart, kiss all over his neck, have your legs wrapped around him, scratch that gorgeous back of his...hell, you'd like to know how it is to fuck Jake Lockley.

And perhaps it was finally time to do something about it. If he's not going to make a move, it's up to you to do something. Otherwise, you fear you might never get a chance to drop that bomb in the middle of a conversation with him.

"You could've joined us," you say, much to yours and Jake's surprise. Despite not seeing his face, it was evident from his body language that the comment had an effect on him.

Turning to face you, he asked, "What?"

"You can join...if you want to," you insist. "None of us mind."

"Oh, nice to know none of you care," Jake remarks ironically.

"No, it's not– I didn't mean it like that," you quickly explain, embarrassed. "I want you to join us."

Jake was quiet– quieter than usual, if that was even possible. It felt like ages. He was staring at you without saying a word and you didn't know exactly what to do. Is he going to do something? The uncertainty of the moment had you almost regretting ever opening your mouth, not knowing if Jake is about to join you, reject you, or reject you and humiliate you.

You still don't know what the fuck you're doing as you pull down the sheets to uncover your naked body. His eyes immediately travel down your body, admiring every inch of skin that was appearing from underneath the sheets. You notice his inner struggle, debating on what to do next.

He eventually walks to the edge of the bed you're laying in, and you feel completely defenseless when you watch him climb onto it, movements impossibly slow as if he was waiting for you to tell him to stop. The eye contact was making you nervous, his stare so intense you felt like he was staring at your soul.

It happened in an instant. One second he was looking– staring deeply into your eyes. The next, he's hungrily devouring your mouth, his tongue passing past your lips. One hand holds your side tightly, the other cups one of your tits, the roughness of his kiss matching the way he starts massaging it.

You moan into his mouth as you hold onto him, quickly tugging at his shirt so he can take it off. He understood your gesture, moving away from you just so he could take that piece of clothing off, throwing it to the floor.

"I've been waiting so long for this," he confesses in a rushed voice, lips capturing yours again just as fiercely. "I'm going to take my sweet time with you, hermosa."

You manage to move the sheet off your body completely before unbuckling his belt. Jake helps you with getting rid of his pants in no time. Both of you let out a sound of pure ecstasy and pleasure when he rocked his hips down, his still clothed erection rubbing against your pussy. The sound that came out of you was enough to let the other know how badly you wanted this moment to arrive.

"Ah, fuck!" you let out as he begins rubbing himself on you, your juices coating his boxers.

"Bet you'd love to feel my cock rubbing your clit without these on," he says, never breaking eye contact. You nodded eagerly, licking your lips. "Want me to masturbate you with my cock?"

"Please..." you gasp.

Jake doesn't keep you waiting. Instead, he takes his boxers off in a rushed move, kneeling on the bed. You open your legs wider for him, watching as he grabs his cock before his tip starts rubbing your clit. The scene was so erotic, so hot, you could barely keep it together.

His cock moves up and down your folds, staying an extra time teasing your clit. "Pleasure yourself with it, doll," he instructed. A series of moans continue to leave your mouth as you begin moving your hips like your life depended on it, him standing still while you rub on his tip. "Good girl. Juuust like that."

"Feels so good, Jake," you let out in between moans.

"I know it does," he says in the sweetest voice you've ever heard coming from him. His tone alone was enough to drive you even more insane...if that was even possible at this point. "I wonder, can you do something for me?"

"Yes, yes! Anything."

"How about you use that strap-on you like to use with Steven so much to fuck me?" Jake proposes, smirking when he sees your reaction. "Fuck my ass nice and hard, princesa. Can you do that for me?"

The proposition alone would've been enough to make you cum. Your head was spinning still, even after Jake moved away from you, but you managed to get your strap on while he patiently waited for you.

When you're back on the bed, you don't know exactly what to do at first. You're the one about to fuck Jake, but still needed him to give you all the instructions. Somehow he was still very much in control, and you didn't care in the slightest. You enjoyed knowing he'll guide you through it so you can fuck him exactly the way he needs you to.

He smiles at you when you join him again, starting to gently stroke your cock before he gets on all fours to put it inside his mouth. You run a hand through his hair as he sucks on it, using his saliva to lubricate it before you can fuck him.

"You look so pretty," you compliment him, which only encourages him to continue sucking you more eagerly.

Jake stops what he was doing, capturing your lips in a quick yet passionate kiss before he gets on his back, legs open for you to position yourself in between them. He takes his legs up and close to his body, knees resting close to his chest so he can give you a better access to his ass.

"Make sure to look at me with those pretty eyes of yours at all times, you got it? Don't you dare look away from me, doll."

You nod at his instruction, using your hand to help you guide your purple-colored dildo so it could align with Jake's entrance. As soon as you pressed the tip against his hole, he grabs your ass and forces you in almost immediately, a loud moan escaping his lips as you stare at him.

"Fuck me as hard as you possibly can," he instructs further. "Make me a fucking mess with your cock."

You moan in response, beggining to fuck him as fast as this position allowed you to. Jake's body was practically pressed to yours as you made sure not to break eye contact. The intimacy of the moment encouraged you to slow down just a little, needing to truly enjoy the moment with Jake for at least just a second before you resumed the fast rhythm like he ordered before.

Jake responds beautifully to your body. His moans increased with each few movements of your hips. His hands would squeeze your ass and occasionally spank it to encourage you to continue. His cheeks were flushed and his body tensed underneath you as he's getting closer. Overall, you could just tell he's enjoying the way you continue to fuck the living shit out of him.

At one point he's grabbing a fistful of your hair, the roughness of it making you tilt your head just slightly, but made sure to keep eye contact no matter what. You whine as he's still pulling your hair, hips still rocking down with as much force and speed as you could create.

"You're doing great, princesa," he grunts. "Such a good little girl for me, fucking my ass exactly the way I ordered."

"Are– Are you close?"

"Mmhm, yeah. I'm so close. Your cock feels so good, I'd let you fuck me all day if I could," he pants in between moans. "Keep going, baby. Keep fucking going."

Sweat coats your body as you do as told, not wanting to slow down now. You moved just slightly as you desperately wanted to kiss him, and he immediately understood what you wanted. His head falls back into the pillow as soon as the kiss is over, letting out the longest and loudest moan yet as he's reaching his orgasm.

You slow down your movements with each thrust before pulling out of him entirely. His legs fall back to the bed, visibly exhausted now as he tries to catch his breath.

The ropes of cum adorning his belly get your attention almost immediately, wasting no time to clean him off using your tongue. After you are down, you look up at him to catch him already looking at you.

Jake stares at you for a few seconds before a hand moves to the back of your neck to pull you close, giving you a gentle yet passionate kiss before he's pulling away so he could contemplate you a little more. He's been doing that in silence for months now, why should he stop now?

"Good luck getting rid of me now," Jake says in a soft whisper, examining your face as he speaks. "People say I am quite intense...and kind of a handful."

You chuckle at his little joke before shaking your head. "I have no problem with that. Bother me all you want."

He smiles. The type of smile you never thought you'd see on Jake's face. "Good. I intend to."

#marc spector smut #steven grant smut #jake lockley smut #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight smut #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley

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readerhead · 2 years

Text

All along

summary: he was the worst that had happened to you, right? (part 2 of "the fella over there", but you can read it independently)

pairing: Matt Murdock × fem!reader

warnings: drinking but none really I think

word count: 3.4k

a/n: first of all thank you so much for love you gave my first fic! I'm really excited, it has almost 100 notes and it feels surreal. I really enjoyed making it and I hope y'all liked it at least as much as you liked the first part. Not gonna lie, I'm a little afraid of ruining it by making a second part, but hey! I'm posting it anyways. This took me longer than expected but here I am. Also, sorry if there's any legal inaccuracy, I'm more of science girl :)

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"Karen, please, entertain Matt. I need to make a call." she nodded and got up straight to Matt's office. They were working on a case and Foggy knew that Matt wouldn't like that he was calling you for help. He hated feeling like he was betraying his best friend but they really need you so he searched for you in his contacts.

"Hey Foggy Bear, how's it going?" you loved to call him by the nickname Marci gave him when they were together. It wasn't that funny but his reaction would always be hilarious.

"Ugh. You know I hate it."

"That's the main point of doing it." you laughed. "Uh, you aren't complaining, what do you need my help for this time?"

"What? No-" his high-pitched voice gave him away. "Shit, alright... I might need your advice in a legal case"

"Uuuh. Now that's interesting. What's about?" you were intrigued.

"Some health insurance issue"

"Sounds fun. Fuck-" you had to go back to your work, a mouse just escaped from its cage. "See you at six at your office, I'll bring dinner." Foggy was going to warn you that Matt would be there too, but you hang up.

You trapped that slippery mouse successfully, maybe if you ask the now broken flask that was in your way it wouldn't use that word but it was an object, it doesn't have an opinion. You finished your work and went to the Thai place you loved. You ordered more than enough food because you thought that maybe the new secretary they had hired not so long ago would be there. You took the food and began your way to your best friend's office. In the meantime, Foggy tried to convince Matt to leave the office but he was being so suspicious about it that Matt stayed out of curiosity. They were arguing about it when they heard a knock on the door and in that moment he recognized your heartbeat.

"Damn, Foggy. Her? You know she doesn't stand me." Matt sighed and closed his eyes while rubbing his forehead.

"You don't make it easier for her, you're always bothering her." Foggy tried to reason.

"Yeah, because every single time I tried to be nice to her, she didn't care and made the most bitter comment. So now at I least have some fun about it."

"You know it wasn't always like that" and just before Matt could say anything Karen opened the door.

"Hi! You must be Karen." she knew you were coming, Foggy told her about you. "Foggy told me a lot about you. He was right when he said you were pretty." you smiled at her and she returned it with a light blush in her cheeks.

"Yes, that would be me. I suppose you are the famous college friend who taught him how to comb his hair." you laugh at the memory of Foggy's appearance when you met.

"We had almost the same length of hair back then." in that moment he stepped out of Matt's office.

"Stop mocking about my old look, we have serious work to do." you couldn't help it. You ran towards him and hugged him, he was almost like a brother to you despite being your best friend's ex. When you finished, you smacked his shoulder. He was beyond confused but not surprised.

"You don't have any type of shame. You only call me to meet when you need my help. You'll have to invite me to that horrible eel liquor so I can forgive you."

"What about you help us and then we go to Josie's?"

"Dea-" just when you were about to settle the agreement Matt entered the room. "Shit." you spat that word almost inaudible. "Foggy didn't we talk about this?" you whispered to him.

"About what?" Matt asked.

"That every time we met in the office you wouldn't be here." Foggy just couldn't lie to Matt, could he?

"Oh, so her being here is normal?" he sounded more in disbelief than offended. Karen was watching curiously the uncomfortable scene develop.

"Relax, Murdock. I only spat in your mug twice, the other times Foggy was watching."

"I was talking to him." he hissed.

"Sometimes?" Foggy tried. "I don't know. She is my friend and I want her to see our accomplishments, like having our own office."

"Enough of the chit-chat. It's his office too, of course if I came it was a matter of time that I came across him. I just hoped it lasted longer." you were well aware that they were not only best friends but also associates, you knew this was coming sooner than later. "So Foggy, show me the files, we have work to do. He can join if he is able to be in the same room as me, it's his case too after all." you entered the conference room before letting Matt a chance to talk and Karen followed suit. Foggy went to his office for the documents.

"You can come if you behave."

"I'm not a dog, Foggy." Matt groaned.

"Well, they have good hearing and smell." Foggy pointed out before entering the room where Karen was filling you up about the case while you spread all the take-out.

"So the insurance company has sued them for fraud? What fraud can a medium-low class family of Hell's Kitchen commit?" you were asking just when the guys walked through the door.

"The company says that our clients are not related and they are using the family insurance because it's cheaper." Foggy explained while giving you the files.

"And I suppose you already searched for every document confirming that the father is the legal guardian." The ones that caught your attention were their medical records.

"Yes, and we have them. But we need to know what's the proof of said accusations to build the case." you break the chopsticks to eat while you read the files.

"Oh fuck, that surgery isn't cheap, they really need this." you said when you saw that the father needed an aortic valve replacement.

"Thanks for stating the obvious."

"You're welcome, Murdock. I knew you needed it." he could be the best with the flirty comebacks but with the poisoned ones he would never beat you.

"Hey guys, no fights." Foggy warned. "Just make some kind of truce for tonight."

"Ugh, alright. I brought enough food for the four of us so I guess you can have some."

"He would love some, he loves that Thai place." Foggy interrupted before Matt could have the chance to speak. You were upset with yourself for having the same taste as him.

"Thanks" he muttered like a scolded child.

"Did they tell you that he was his biological son?" you asked when you started reading de son's record. You had already read the parent's files and all the insurance papers.

"They didn't use that word but they were very graphic about his birth's story." Foggy grimace at the memory. "Why?"

"Well, then those are some fucked up news to give."

"What happened? Did you find something?" Karen asked.

"Do any of you remember anything about basic genetics?" their looks were as if you were talking in Chinese.

"Like dominant genes?" Karen tried.

"Tell us what you found." Matt was getting frustrated.

"A 'please' wouldn't kill you." you murmured "The son's blood type is AB, so his parents would have to be A, B or AB."

"I'm assuming they aren't, right?" Matt was the first to understand your line of thoughts.

"Both 0. Either they lied to you or the hospital changed their baby."

"They didn't." how could he be so sure? Not like he was he a human lie detector or something.

"So when we win the case, we can sue the hospital, too." Karen was pretty excited, after all if their clients received that money they would be the first to pay that month. Or year.

"So does that mean celebration? I really need that drink you owe me."

"We haven't finished the case." of course Mr. Grumpy would have something to say.

"Come on, man! We had been all week in this case, I think it can wait another day." Foggy put his puppy eyes but it was impossible that Matt knew that.

"No problem, if he wants it so bad he can stay here." Matt's jaw tensing didn't go unnoticed by you but you didn't mind. You got up to pick up the remains of the take-out and threw it in the trash.

"Actually, I wanna go." your smile dropped a little, you hoped he wouldn't come and he smiled knowingly. Bastard.

You took your purse while the others were archiving the files. The four of you headed to Josie's, you were talking to Karen while the boys were behind. You grew very fond of her, she was a very sweet woman but the fire of bravery clearly escaping her eyes. When you arrived at the place, Foggy wasted no time to go and get the drinks. You spent all the time catching up with Foggy and getting to know Karen better. You were a few drinks in when the conversation took a strange turn.

"What do you think of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen?" Karen asked. The boys were now focused on your reaction, you would have noticed it if there wasn't alcohol in your organism.

"Oh I actually like him. And he's hot." you took another sip. "You know all that whole altruism vibe is attractive as hell. And I don't know, all the guys I've liked always have some big red flag, guess his are his anger issues." Foggy was laughing too hard but you didn't care.

"And if he was someone like Matt?" where did that question come from? Surely it was just Foggy trying to mess with you.

"How can Daredevil be blind?" you were kind of confused.

"No, I mean if his personality was like Matt's." you let an understanding sound.

"He wouldn't Matt so I guess it would be alright. I mean, I'm sure the two Ds don't stand for Daredevil… More like 'dat dic-"

"Fine, we heard enough." Foggy cut you, Karen was laughing out loud and you could see Matt trying to hide how funny he found your answer. Weird. He usually would make some comment on how ordinary it was.

"Why? You don't like him?"

"I like him. But you're making me nauseous."

"I'm going for the next round." Matt got up and headed to the bar counter but the smile didn't leave his face, it amused him that much?

"So what's the problem between you two?" curiosity was one of her most obvious characteristics.

"Always so straightforward, blondie?" you had a habit of giving people nicknames after knowing them for a short time.

"I just like the truth." she shrugged.

"Right." you stopped to think how you could tell the story. "I don't hate him, it's just that I see his face and I can't help getting upset."

"It wasn't always like that." Foggy continued. "The first night they met they slept together." Karen gasped, she evidently didn't expect that. You punched him in your mind.

"You're making it sound like we had sex!" you rubbed your temples. "We just cuddled." Foggy looked at you as saying 'if you don't tell her I will'. "And we might have made out" you say loud enough so they could hear you and try to avoid the scarlet in your cheeks.

"Now all makes sense!" you looked at her confused while taking a sip. "All that back and forth is accumulated sexual tension!" the liquor almost came out of your nose.

"Are you crazy?"

"I think she's right. If it hadn't been for Eve you two would had fucked and probably be in a relationship right now." the expression on your face was as if you thought that an alien with a Norwegian accent giving birth on your couch made more sense.

"Who's Eve?"

"It's the nickname she gave Matt's ex. Her name was Elektra and their relationship was kinda… toxic. She was pretty reckless. And him being catholic just made it the perfect nickname." probably Karen was discovering more stuff about the boys in one night with you than in all the months she knew them.

"So you're mad at him because he chose her?"

"What? No. In any case, I'm sulky because after a week of spending one of the best nights of my life at that moment he was fucking one of my best friends. Not like I cared about that but instead of making another friend I lost one. I didn't even want a partner, I just thought we connected in some way"

"Is that true?" you froze in your place, afraid to turn around. He had to be there, could it be more cliche? What's next? Josie was going to start singing about how she lost the love of her life for fear. You could see the apologetical looks on Foggy and Karen's faces. He said your name and this time you turned around.

"Oh, hi Murdock! Didn't see you. I was just messing around with my new friend." it couldn't have sounded more awkward and anyone could tell that you were lying. You couldn't read his face. Was he mad? Disappointed? Just curious? What the hell was he thinking?

"Was that true?" he repeated, leaving the drinks at the table.

"I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of answering."

"Don't be childish."

"It is not, it's law related. I'm abiding by the fifth amendment." you cross your arms in your chest.

"Karen, I'll take you home." you heard Foggy and saw them going in your peripheral sight.

"Why did you start this bicker when you didn't want to?"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Don't gaslight me. Is it because you were jealous of Elektra? I thought she told me that you were mad about some boy you had a fling or something."

"You're kinda stupid for a summa cum laude." you whispered under your breath.

"Cut the bullshit and explain something." he raised his voice.

"I fucking liked you, Matthew!" you finally exploded, now all eyes in the room were looking at your direction.

"What?" his brows frowned.

"God! You were the guy, I just never told her about you and she liked you so I wasn't going to ruin my friend's happiness by being selfish."

"So it was better treating me like shit?"

"It wasn't fair but it was the easiest. She was possessive so if she thought I hated you she wouldn't get mad at me."

"So you never hated me? Then why do you keep the act?" the sound that left your mouth seemed like a laugh.

"Because now I do. I really hate you. Not only you had to make me think that not every boy was going to treat me as shit like my stupid ex did, but you also have to take one of my best friends from me. I suffered because of you." a tear of helplessness slipped down your face until it reached your chin. "And the fucking worst? You were fucking oblivious to everything." you took your bag and left the bar.

"Are you blaming me for falling for Elektra after you started treating me like shit? I didn't even knew you two were friends at that moment." he followed you outside, he wasn't done.

"Listen, Matt. I could have dealt with that, believe me, I did it. But I have not seen my friend since then. I ended up alone and shattered because of you. I don't wanna think how miserable I would have been if I hadn't met Foggy and Marci." your voice broke. Shit, now he would know and you just wanted to go.

"That's not fair. I wanted to go on a date with you, but the next time I saw you I was confused because you didn't even look at me. Believe me, I never wanted to do anything to hurt you." he reached for your hand and you were so focused in the conversation that you didn't even notice.

"If you weren't a flirt, she wouldn't have fallen for you and we could have gone on that date." you sighed, tired of fighting.

"I didn't even flirt with her, I was nice to her because I was in a good mood thinking of you but the next day I tried to call you and you didn't even bother to answer." in that moment you realize he was really close and your hand in his, heat making its way up your face.

"Guess now you know why." you looked away. One touch and you were all soft for him.

"I never hated you." you looked at him again. You went silent trying to organize your thoughts.

"I think I didn't either. I think I just paid all my frustrations with you." you admitted in a low voice, only for him to hear. "Should we start over?"

"Not a chance." you were very confused. "There's no way I could forget the night we met. We can start from there if you like."

"I would love that." a wide smile appeared across your face.

"So… Can I take you to that date?"

"Now? Everything except Josie's is closed." he let out a small chuckle.

"I was thinking more about this weekend. Now I could walk you home."

"Oh, right. Yeah. Perfect." you were blushing too hard and you cursed yourself for acting like a teenager with a crush.

You two talked all the way home. Sometimes your responses were bitter commentaries out of habit, but the rest of the time it felt like that first magical night. He didn't let your hand go since he had taken it out of Josie's and you didn't want him to do it, that spark that kept you glued to him dancing years ago was now a fire, you had to assume that you could get drunk in his touch even if it was only his finger lightly tracing your arm. Right at that moment, you hated your apartment for not being more far away, but you were totally sober by then. You stopped at your door and turned to face him.

"This is mine's." How the fuck someone says goodbye to your enemy who you recently realized you liked? You were a little lost in your thoughts when he called you.

"About earlier… I mean it. I never, not even for a moment, have a trace of hate for you. In fact, it was the opposite. I liked you a lot and it hurt me thinking it was one-way." you saw his sad expression and it mixed with his low voice. In that moment, you regretted every decision you made about that situation. It wasn't your fault, but neither was his. All those miscommunications led to making it the bad time for you two. Or perhaps it was fate, so now both of you could be here, at your doorstep, pouring out your hearts to each other.

"Matt…" your hand reached his cheek, getting both of you closer and he leaned on it.

You didn't know what to say, so your body took action. You closed the space between you two with a kiss. His right hand found your waist and his left one unalced your fingers to reach for your neck, right under your ear. It was a soft kiss, kinda melancholic. Your feelings were showing through it. When his tongue made the way into your mouth, all that changed. It was the passion of all those years of waiting. If his touch was inebriating, his kisses were the definition of being high because of a bad hard drug. And you realized you were screwed, the withdrawal effects were going to be wildly unbearable. You were the first to back up, but give him a little peck before speaking.

"You want… Um…" you were hesitant but you knew what you wanted and it was him. "get in?" You didn't know where your usual fierceness was. This was odd, but when you looked back into his eyes you knew why. You were vulnerable for him, but what really startled you was your next conclusion: you didn't care.

His response was grinning and going back to your mouth. Through the kiss you tried to find your keys and how you did it's still a mystery to you because the feeling of his lips, tongue and hands was the most deconcentrating experience you have ever had. You tried to make your way to the bedroom but the couch was closer and both of your clothes were disappearing by seconds. Maybe Karen was kinda right, maybe all that hatred was instead something else. Maybe it wasn't only sexual tension. Perhaps, it was more. Maybe and just maybe it was love all along.

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

a/n: kinda feel 'The night we met' by Lord Huron fits it, idk.

#matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil #daredevil netflix #mcu daredevil #daredevil fluff #daredevil fic #marvel #mcu fic #matt x reader

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dotster001 · 2 years

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i am humbly asking for a type one match up for obey me. describe myself, you say? okay i can do that. i spend a lot of my time doing chores and lazing around on the internet. i'm a decent cook and i listen to video essays (usually philosophytube) when i'm doing house stuff. i am pretty indifferent to what happens around me in a day-to-day sense but i love losing myself in books or manwhas. i also have a lot of trouble keeping track of time and i cry when i get angry (this seemed important to bring up)

that's it im probably rambling BUT congrats on 1.5k !! <3

(I have seen your humble request, and have made you a match. I hope you enjoy this my dear!)

I match you with Leviathan.

Sometimes it's really hard to make a match, but this one I knew immediately. And you may have seen this one coming, but still 😂.

He's so pumped that you like to hang on the internet. He's probably a reddit troll, let's be real, so he enjoys just the two of you sitting quietly and doing your own thing on the internet, maybe leaning over to each other every once in a while to show the other a meme. The other brothers usually find you both cuddling and on a device. It's really cute, and Mammon may or may not have started a viral Devilgram account of just the two of you being cuddly together.

You're both giving Lucifer early gray hairs. Especially when you both get eachother a new book or a new manga, and it's ten hours later and neither of you have left his room. He definitely has concerns.

Though, those concerns are eased a little but when he sees you just cleaning Levi's room one day…doing chores? Without him even asking? Just for like…fun?

Levi:Would you like to stay for dinner?

Lucifer: Would you like to stay forever?

Leviathan, someone who can go off for hours about his favorite fandoms, and someone who has lived for eons…play any of your philosophy vids and he has OPINIONS. Unasked for opinions, usually, but it's cute to see him go off for hours about something that is essentially just…..subjective and subject to change depending on society and the audience. Honestly, there's plenty of times where he's waxing on about life's meaning as he mindlessly destroys bosses in a game. Meanwhile, you're just sitting there staring at him like, huh?

He gets really scared that he fucked up the first time you start crying in the middle of an argument. He's one to talk considering how often he summons Lotan. When you've both cooled down later you'll have to explain that you just cry when you're mad, and You're not breaking up with him. Afterwards, it's easier. Turns out he also cries when he's mad, he's just trained himself over the years to wait until the person he's arguing with has left the room.

You were chilling in your room when you heard your beloved boyfriend scream.

You rushed to his room in a panic to see him scrolling through a Devilgram account that looked like pictures of the both of you snuggling and playing games, or reading, or looking at videos together. Pictures you didn't remember taking.

"MAMMON YOU ARE SO DEAD!" Levi screamed, not realizing you were standing right there.

"Levi!" You shouted covering your ears, and startling him back to reality.

"Sorry," he murmured, "but look what Mammon's been doing!"

You leaned in, trying not to get flustered by how nice your boyfriend's scent was, and began scrolling through the pictures.

"I mean, they are cute pictures…."

"Yeah, I guess," Levi pouted.

"And it looks like there's a lot of followers who want to see what the Avatar of Envy's everyday life is like…"

"Uh huh…"

"And most of the comments are pretty positive, they seem happy for us. And those that aren't are because they are envious that they don't have the Avatar of Envy," you said with a smirk as Levi started slumping in his chair and trying to hide his reddening cheeks.

"Hmmm…. Well once we get those cameras he hid out of your room…. I'm gonna follow this account."

"Nooooooo……" he whined.

"What? My boyfriend's cute," you giggled. "Plus, we spend most of our time cuddling like this, so it's nice to have pictures."

"Stooooop," he whined, burying his face in his hoodie.

You sat in his lap to get a better look, and subconsciously ran your fingers through his hair as you scrolled through.

"I'm making this one my lock screen."

"Please stooooop!"

#obey me #matchups #1.5k followers #obey me x reader #om! levi #leviathan x reader #levi x reader #om! leviathan

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elizmanderson · 1 year

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"a kiss to anger a third party," perhaps from this post? elizmanderson. tumblr. com /711617943947067392

okay so fun fact, I am actually an idiot who read right over “another kissing prompt” on the post this kissing prompt came from and rb it just intending to like save the list of different kisses for later

but then I was too embarrassed to admit that in response to this ask WITHOUT writing something so long story short instead of researching lighthouses today like I was supposed to, I wrote a 1,700-word short story about fake girlfriends who kiss in the hallway outside grandma’s sewing room to piss off some shitty relatives

so. yeah. uh. enjoy I guess.

A KISS TO ANGER A THIRD PARTY STORY THAT I DIDN’T MEAN TO WRITE BUT HERE WE ARE

Fake dating has been going shockingly well, considering you’re terrible at real dating and also at lying, and somehow faking dating is both. Then again, family get-togethers are always awkward as fuck. Your cousin and his wife always share a chilly silence; your uncle has a casually off-color comment for every occasion; your mother judges everyone like doing so is an Olympic sport; and your grandparents desperately try and fail to keep the peace. So no one notices that you and Maeve stand across the room from each other instead of holding hands and melting into each other’s bodies the way two lovey-dovey newlydatings should allegedly do.

Rather, if anyone notices, they figure it’s normal. That’s how relationships are in your family, grandparents aside, and everyone has long since written them off as sweet old weirdos. The only reason you don’t think the lingering gazes you share with Maeve are more action than your relatives have ever had is the existence of multiple generations of biological children.

You share a gaze now. Not because you’re actually into Maeve, although you’re not not into Maeve; you picked an attractive fake girlfriend. Tall, with an undercut and dark eyes and a crooked nose and muscley arms that sometimes you think would be really great for picking you up and throwing you onto a bed, before you remember this is fake and please brain do not.

The corner of Maeve’s mouth turns up. You look away, biting back a smile.

You would like to stand here not-smiling at Maeve all night—or at least until the end of the torturous family cookout, which hasn’t even technically started yet because your uncle decided to “help” Grandpa with the grill and ended up setting all the food on fire instead, and the second attempt at dinner just went on the grill three minutes ago—but you seriously have to pee. In lieu of food, you’ve downed three cans of Coke from the drinks fridge in the garage. You cross the kitchen, accidentally-on-purpose brush against Maeve as you exit, and head down the hall to the half bath.

When you come out, you hear voices. Snatches of words. Your mother and cousin-in-law, sitting in your grandma’s sewing room. They’re supposed to be organizing it for her, but instead they’re sitting on bolts of fabric, gossiping.

“...tried to tell me they’d found someone, but they look absolutely miserable with that girl they brought,” your mother says. With a jolt, you realize she’s talking about you. “Maybe they’ll sit together at dinner, but with how far apart they’ve been standing since they arrived, I doubt it. And that girl has been scowling at everyone.”

“She’s worse than Luc,” your cousin-in-law says smugly. “And god knows he has the worst resting bitch face I ever saw. Sometimes I don’t know why I fell in love with him. No offense.”

“None taken. He’s not my kid.”

You don’t even like Luc, but your fingers curl into fists. As usual, you wonder what the fuck you did in a past life to be born into a family of people who spend all their time hating each other.

“Anyway” —your cousin-in-law examines her nails, fresh from a day at the salon, where she surely treats the staff hellishly— “I don’t think it’ll last. They’ve hardly spoken two words to each other all afternoon.”

Your fists tighten. She’s one to talk. She and Luc have hardly spoken to each other since the day of their wedding; on the rare occasion you do hear them speak, they’re picking fights. She gushes about her perfect marriage to anyone who will listen when her husband isn’t around, but their marriage—your uncle’s marriage, your parents’ marriage, every marriage around you except your grandparents’—is exactly the reason you’ve been so reluctant to date. The reason you asked Maeve to fake being your girlfriend, so your relatives would stop offering to set you up with someone. They all make each other fucking miserable.

And they think you and Maeve won’t last?

Okay yeah sure fine, you and Maeve aren’t a thing in the first place. Not really. You’re neighbors, and coworkers, and maybe friends now.

But since Maeve agreed to fake-date you, you’ve shared more with her about yourself than you have with...anyone, maybe. Definitely more than you’ve shared with anyone in your family. Definitely more than they share with their respective spouses, or each other.

Silly things, mostly. You like it when the front door of a house is painted bright, aqua or magenta or chartreuse. Your favorite flowers are all the yellow ones, like dandelions or forsythia, even though otherwise you’re not that fond of yellow. You always like the sad songs and love ballads more than the fun, fast-paced songs that steal the show. Things that don’t matter, except that they do, because now Maeve points out all the brightly colored doors when you walk back to your apartment building together after a shift.

Your mother and cousin-in-law are still talking. The conversation has moved on now—apparently your uncle has cheated on his wife, again—but you’re angry. Your skin prickles. Your nails bite your palms. You could nudge the door open and confront them, but confrontation has never been your forte.

Instead, you tiptoe to the kitchen and touch Maeve’s back.

She half turns, an eyebrow quirked. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I just. I need you to come with me.”

“Why?” Maeve asks, but she’s already following you back down the hall.

“Because my relatives suck and I need you to kiss me.”

You stop far enough from the sewing room that your mother and cousin-in-law probably won’t hear you. You turn toward Maeve, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed. It hasn’t occurred to you that the words I need you to kiss me actually just crossed your lips. Maeve’s dark eyes flicker over you, but she mirrors your posture and waits.

“They’re all in shitty marriages,” you say in a low voice, “except my mom, because she’s in a shitty divorce that was so shitty it was almost as bad as the marriage, except that it was over faster. But because we’re not attached at the hip or making googly eyes at each other, they think my relationship with my new girlfriend is a dead-end that’s going to end before it’s begun.”

Maeve snorts. “Fuck them. I may not make googly eyes at my fake girlfriend, but they’re nuts if they think I wouldn’t go to the ends of the earth and back for my fake girlfriend. Or, like, bring home takeout every night after work, or always do the laundry because they hate doing laundry, or whatever.”

That gets you for a second, because okay yeah sure fine it’s all fake, but Maeve still just kind of said she’d go to the ends of the earth for you. And bring you takeout. And always do laundry, which honestly might as well be a marriage proposal, because someone doing the laundry so you don’t have to is well and truly your love language.

“So.” Maeve’s eyes rove over your face. “Not that I object to kissing you, but how exactly is kissing going to help this situation?”

Right. You asked her to kiss you. Or more accurately stated slightly desperately and angrily that you need her to kiss you. You tense, trying to sound cool and nonchalant when you’re now thinking about kissing Maeve.

“When my mom and cousin-in-law come out of that room,” you say, nodding back toward the sewing room, “I want them to see us kissing. Like, really kissing. You know.”

The corner of Maeve’s mouth lifts again. “Really kissing. Gotcha.”

You flush. “Yeah. That. I just. I want...” You want some really great kissing. Focus. “I want them to see that we’re actually fucking into each other and super affectionate with each other even if we don’t feel like turning it into a performance so everyone else will believe we’re in love.”

Maeve tilts her head. “Even though it’ll literally be a performance so everyone will believe we’re in love?”

Your flush deepens. “Yeah.”

Maeve shifts closer, her eyes flickering over you. God, her eyes. Dark and intense and always just a little bit sad.

“I think I can sell being fucking into you,” she says quietly.

Shit, you think vaguely, poor choice of words on your part, because fucking and you are the only things you can think now that Maeve has repeated them back to you. But the thought slips away, because now Maeve is an inch away, her tall body curving over you, and her hands are cupping your face and oh my god she is actually really for real going to kiss you.

Her lips brush over yours, soft and sweet. Your breath hitches.

The door opens down the hall. As your relatives step out of the sewing room, Maeve crushes your lips under hers. Her hands slip into your hair, your arms wind around her neck, you pull her down, closer, closer, and now you’re kissing her back, your fingers playing in her hair just because they can, your eyes closed, your skin glorying in the warmth of her breath, the press of her body against yours.

Behind you, Luc’s shitty wife makes a sound of disgust and says, “Oh my god, get a room!” Your mother hisses, “Do you want to give your grandmother a heart attack? Right outside her sewing room!”

But (a) your grandma is safely outside by the grill, far away from the sudden make-out session, and (b) your grandma, if she saw you kissing a pretty girl, would almost certainly say something along the lines of “isn’t that sweet!” or “good for them!” And frankly you don’t remember why it was important to kiss Maeve where your mother and cousin-in-law would see it. Or whether there was a point to kissing Maeve at all, unless kissing Maeve was the point.

Your brain is preoccupied with Maeve’s lips on yours, her hands cradling your head, your body crushed beneath hers. But as your relatives slink past and disappear, as the sliding door in the kitchen opens and slams, as Maeve goes on kissing you like her life depends on it, as you fail to say something along the lines of okay we can stop now—as you fail to say, in fact, anything at all—you think, distantly: maybe this dating is less fake than I thought.

#answered #writing prompts #kissing prompts #short story #e's writing

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pantherxrogers · 3 months

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AHHHHH unforgettable is so cuteeee!! Is there gonna be a part 2???

pt. 2 unforgettable - choi san x fem!reader

🧡 pairing: choi san x fem!reader

🧡 warnings: angst, reader and san are married with a son, possible mispelling of korean words for "mom" and "dad" (so sorry! please leave feedback in the comments), fluff, separation, not proofread

🧡 summary: san and reader go out for his birthday dinner! maybe it’ll lead to something more? 👀

🧡 a/n: hi anon! i’m so glad you enjoyed part 1 🫶🏾 i hope part 2 lives up to your expectations! i don’t know if there will be a part 3, but this was fun to write!

this is also my first time using jump cuts to the next scene. let me know what yall think!

pt. 1

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

"woo, i really don't have time for this," you groan into the phone. you're still trying decide between what heels you want to wear for the night, but his familiar voice is ringing in your ear.

"you kinda do. he left here like a minute ago."

"he's already on the way?!" you screech, prompting wooyoung to straight up laugh at you.

“yeah, and i know he’s speeding. this is the fastest he’s ever dropped jun off,” he snickers. you hear your son's loud giggle in the background, followed by the sound of wooyoung's cackle.

"put me on speaker," you coo, wanting to talk to your baby. you hear wooyoung sigh, pretending to be annoyed with your antics.

"hi june bug! are you having fun, baby?"

"yes omma! we're watching oppa perform!" he shouts, clearly on a sugar high. you clear your throat, waiting for an explanation from wooyoung.

"he's totally exaggerating! we watched one ateez performance. i was actually trying to show myself, but he's all about oppa," he groans, another loud giggle coming from jun. you can''t help but laugh along.

"i'll talk to you later, bubble! have fun! i love you!"

"love you, omma!"

"love you, unnie!"

you snort, mumbling a goodbye to wooyoung. hanging up the phone, you bring your attention to the mirror. okay, san is going to choke when he sees you.

you're wearing a satin dress, the fabric clinging to your curves like a greek statue. you just got a blowout, hair falling is soft waves down your back. deciding to keep you makeup light yet sultry, you did a smokey eye and a bold lip color. one of san's favorites. but, that's a coincidence of course.

spritzing your perfume, you admire yourself again in the mirror. all that's left now are shoes. you're stalling because you know which shoes will be perfect for this outfit, but you don't want to bring yourself to admit it.

you make your way to the back of your closet, more like another bedroom, scanning your shoe racks. the black patent leather winks at you, calling out your name. a memory flashes through your mind. it was your first birthday with san, all those years ago. he bought you the louboutin's that you'd been eyeing for the past week. you smile to yourself, picking them up and sliding into them with ease.

just as start to grab your clutch for the night, the doorbell rings. you can feel your heart beating in your ears. taking a deep breath, giving yourself a once over, you step out of the bedroom. the walk towards the front door feels like a mile, but you miss this feeling. it reminds you of the early days of your relationship, waiting on san to pick you up with bated breath.

before san can ring the doorbell again, you're swinging the door open. and damn. it's going to be a long dinner.

the first thing you notice is his cologne. it's one you bought him last Christmas. it's a strong, woody scent, and you're ashamed to recognize the arousal pooling in between your thighs. he's wearing his hair slicked back again. the style does wonder for his facial features, making him look more intimidating than usual. well, not to you, of course.

the crisp, white button down stretches across his broad shoulders, neatly tucking into his black trousers. the top buttons are undone, giving you a hint of his collarbones. you feel like a pervert, ogling him right in front of his face. but, he doesn't notice. he's too busy ogling you.

"you look stunning, honey." he sounds like he's in a daze. it's almost comical. his eyes scan your face and body in such quick succession, almost like he doesn't know where to focus on. you notice the way his eyes linger on your heels, a fond smile on his face.

"thank you, san," you hum, ducking your head in shyness. "i'll be back. i just need to set the alarm."

"leave your clutch while you're at it. you know you won't be needing it." the dominance in his voice makes your heart flutter. but you won't give in that easily.

"san, i'm not leaving it."

"well, take your wallet out then."

"who said i brought it?" your sass catches him off guard. he's missed it. his little smirk is the last thing you see before heading towards the alarm.

the ride to the restaurant is quiet but not awkward. the radio plays in the background while san hums along. you find yourself humming with him. you feel your cheeks warm when he glances over at you.

"i've missed hearing that," he confesses, toying with the smooth leather of the center console. you fight the urge to reach out and touch his hand. you're not sure why but you do.

"san, i thought we weren't going to argue tonight."

"i'm not trying to argue, i swear. just wanted you to know how much i've missed you. i'm sorry," he answers. you can't stay mad at him. after all, he was just being honest. which is more than you can say for yourself. you've missed him so much but saying it out loud makes you feel weak.

instead, you settle your hand over his. he has to bite his lip to stop the shit-eating grin. he fails anyway, bringing your hand up to press a kiss on the back of it. something about it feels so intimate. you have to look away, afraid he'll be able to read the desire on your face.

dinner was a success. you feel full and happy, but you’re still wide awake on the car. sadness creeps over you as he drives you home. truth be told, you had an amazing time tonight and don't want it to end.

"hey?" he gentle nudges your thigh, "you okay, honey?" his voice is warm and smooth, making your heart skip a beat.

"yeah, 'm fine," you answer, glancing over at him. he looks relaxed and comfortable behind the wheel. all of this feels so right. there's a part of you that wants it back. you don't even realize you're still staring at him until san clears his throat.

"just thinking about junebug." your lie is obvious to the both of you, but san doesn't call you out. instead, he reaches for your hand, gently holding it in his own. you have to bit your lip to stop the growing grin on your face.

sooner than you'd like, he pulls up to your long driveway. "i had an amazing time tonight." his eyes are so earnest that it almost makes you want to cry.

"so did i."

it's all you can say right now, finding it difficult to work through all the emotion swirling around in your chest. he places another kiss to the back of your hand, then opens his door. you chuckle under your breath, amused by his hurried footsteps coming towards the passenger door.

both of your drag your feet to the front door, clearly not wanting the night to end. when you finally reach it, you slow around, fumbling for the key inside your small clutch.

"hold on, i got it." he reaches for his keys, quickly finding his key to your home. "thank you." he hums his response, smoothly unlocking the door.

"thanks for inviting me out," you linger in the doorway, unable to tear yourself away from him.

"thanks for coming with me, angel. you made my birthday special."

you drop your head, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. he's staring at you with so much love in his eyes. you're sure that he can see the same in yours.

"i really want to kiss you right now." it's blunt and almost whiny, prompting a giggle from you. san can't help but join in on your laughter, happy to see that beautiful smile on your face.

"well," you breathe through giggles, "it is your birthday." san's heart skips a beat, almost unable to believe his ears. as soon as the shock leaves his system, his lips are on yours.

it's gentle and sweet, reminding you of when you first started dating all those years ago. you can hear your heart beating in your ears, giddiness over taking your sense. he gently places a hand on your waist, kissing back with fervor.

out of reflex, you bring your arms around his neck, leaning against his firm body. every thought in your mind is consumed by him, your bodies melting into one. you feel yourself falling under his spell, familiar arousal warming the pit of your tummy.

"s-san, wait." he's off you in an instant, pulling away to meet your eyes. "i'm sorry, i got a little carried away."

"no, it's fine. so did i," you chuckle, fixing your outfit.

there's still tension in the air, both of you waiting for the other to make the next move.

"guess i should go check on junebug," he murmurs, a soft smile on his face. the both of you smile at the mention of your son. still, you feel sadness at the thought of the night ending.

"it's kinda late. don't you think he'll be asleep?"

now san is certain his heart stopped for good. are you saying what he thinks you're saying?

"yeah, he might be," he blurts out, a sudden blush forming on his cheeks. he feels like a teenager staying the night at a girl's house for the first time.

"maybe you can call woo and tell him you'll be back in the morning?"

"y-yeah! for sure!"

you giggle at his excitement, stepping aside to let him in the front door. san thinks this might be his best birthday yet.

#𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ⊹ ˚˖⋆｡ ra ra fics #ateez san #ateez scenarios #ateez x black!reader #ateez x female reader #ateez fluff #choi san imagines #choi san scenarios #choi san x reader #ateez

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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 1 year

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recently went to my cousins for the night to hang out for my bday and initially I was expecting it would be just us, we're gonna have fun and go get some drinks. just have a good time! but then she suggested I go to a show with her and her partner; I have no hate or dislike towards her partner at all but I thought it'd be just us you know? plus, the show we were going to isn't something I'd enjoy at all. I ignored my discomfort and went, expecting okay her and I will get dinner and then go see her girlfriend and then we'd go back to her place to hang out the rest of the night: nope, from the minute I got there it was me, her partner, and my cousin.

again I was kinda not cool with it but I ignored it and tried to have a good time. while with her I opened up about my family situation at home and how a couple months ago I had to worry about CPS taking my siblings away as a result of my dad relapsing and she just blunty said "well maybe they should be taken away" and it was the biggest what the fuck moment I've ever had with her and I completely checked out the rest of the night.

I got drunk at the show we went to and on the way back home turns out I'd be staying the night on her girlfriends couch, which wasn't something I knew and it just added on to my bad mood. I'm not close with her partner and while yeah I don't dislike her, I just genuinely don't know her like that. I went straight to sleep and left the next morning and now I'm just super pissed at her and how inconsiderate she is. Like what the fuck.

the family situation was horrible and for her to just say "maybe they should be taken away to make your dad change" I'm just like, you're missing the point. those girls are my life and my love and if they were taken away? wtf do you think is gonna happen? they're gonna get put into foster or something else and I just, I'm honestly really pissed with her. I want to tell her but at the same time why bother, she's just gonna say "well why didn't you say something earlier?" or get defensive and I don't want to hear it.

Hi anon,

I'm sorry to hear about what happened. It sounds like she made a dismissive comment that hurt you because it was insensitive and inconsiderate of the situation and its complexities. It's disappointing that she made such a careless remark, and please know that it's okay to be angry at her because of it, especially because of how personal the situation is.

It also sounds like she was inconsiderate of how the dynamic of hanging out changes when a partner is brought in, because then someone ends up third wheeling. It's okay to have just wanted to hang out with her one on one. It's understandable if you want to take some time and distance from her for a while.

I hope you're doing alright, and that I could help. If you need anything else, feel free to reach out.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #tw substance abuse

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chim-chim1310 · 1 year

Note

*long jk-related ask so pls just ignore if you're uncomfortable*💃

maybe it's because i mostly feel annoyed at jk now, but i find him doing a wlive naked...cringe and over the top. for sure others enjoyed it and drooled after him, but i saw the clips and i was like 'yeah go all out to support your cool fratboy image'. yeah hes just chilling in his bed, but he's been doing those kinds of thirst-trap lives even before seven was released, and i believe he's doing that because of his image rebranding. drinking and passing gas while on live, sleeping with a candle lit (very irresponsible); sleeping in his bed but in y/n pov. those are intended for him to look 'cool' and like a cant-be-bothered, seductive man (uhm, eww). it's the same with the recent wlive, and he's going all out. i feel like he's trying too hard.

The live is also interesting because he gets to do two things at once: to continue the y/n agenda and to show how tight his bond with jimin still is (congrats jikook shippers, y'all have a new reason to use to ignore everything else). dont get me wrong jimin and jk have always had the silly and flirty dynamic, which is why they have die-hard shippers in the first place. we've seen it and they are just showing it there.

what makes me raise my eyebrows though is the timing. those hashtags have been trending in twt before that wlive and him going on live later on is a bit sus. even if he doesn't look at the trends, there are people (staff, friends, members) who could've informed him abt it, which may have prompted him to go live. it's not impossible at all. it could distract people and pacify things a little bit, and i guess it's working.

make it what you will but JK's actions are more sus now considering all that's happened. i mean what's the better way to pacify people? please them and show that everything is fine.

jimin responding to him on live doesn't really surprise me. it could be that he has time so he commented. it's not out of character for him, but may also be a way, again, to pacify things. i mean those tags are about him and it's his fans (& some armys) trending it after all. maybe he wants to do something about it. im not blaming jimin at all, i honestly think it's smart.

you can also look at this in a fanservice aspect (for both of them) because admit it or not, it has always been there. BTS doesn't necessarily need to do it because they're famous now and truly have good bonds, but they still engage in it from time to time to pacify fans and maintain their image. jikook interacting in the live can be them genuinely being good friends while also using the chance to ease things a little bit. it doesn't mean that they're being forced to do things though, but that they're doing it on their accord to at least control the situation.

unfortunately, the live can only distract people for so long. questions and outrage will continue because of the company's continuous inaction and shady behavior toward jimin. it won't ever be enough.

sorry for the long ask, but given all that has happened, i can't avoid second-guessing everything that jk does now. i can't stop speculating on some things.

i can be wrong about some things of course, but the live did not squash my displeasure for the company and jk's involvement in everything. he and jimin may be fine with each other, but that does not excuse all that has been happening.

I understand where you're coming from.

And I still very much dislike jungkook and think he's part of the reason for jimin's sabotage. That had happened and we can talk about it.

But that doesn't mean we have to be negative about him all the time. We can have fun if he's doing something funny.

But this live..... Idk it just didn't seem like some practiced skit to me.

It was so random. Didn't look planned at all.

Yeah there could be a high chance that he came live to distract people or make the situation better. Like after the festa dinner when they talked about hiatus and then jk came on live to settle things down. But that was a big thing.

This on the other hand is hard for me to believe that he came live for distract people. It's not out of character for jungkook to come live at random times like this. So I didn't really think much of it.

I believe it's looking too deep into things. Not everything has to be related to the company politics you know. To me it looks like he just randomly came live like he always does and jimin commented on it because he felt like it.

Not all of their moves has to be so calculated. Nobody thinks THAT much.

Assuming that jungkook or anyone has such calculated thoughts like that before doing the most mundane thing is not realistic to me.

Also for the shirtless thing. Yeah it could be cringe. I've said this before he's trying too hard to be cool. But then again it's none of our business. It's his body at the end of the day. He can show it off if he wants to.

For people who are attracted to him, it's like heaven right now. People who are not attracted to him just don't care.

I think we shouldn't say stuff like that. It's like people telling girls to wear decent clothing because if they wear short clothes then they're attention seeker and I'm strongly against it. I won't be a hypocrite and say the same thing to a man because I would be so pissed if some man said that to me.

It can be agreed that he's trying to be cool but it's not harming anyone so idc at least he's not talking shit like he was doing recently. So that's progress ig.

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wisteria-blooms · 2 years

Text

long hair & tattoos (bill weasley & reader) (15/15) *complete*

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

CHAPTER 15: The day before Bill is set to depart for Egypt, you are torn between two thoughts: to convince him to stay or to let him go. Luckily, help and love come from the unlikeliest of places. (8.5k words) TAG LIST MOVED TO THE BOTTOM!

A/N: Thank you guys for following along on this ride! It's certainly been a fun one. I'm grateful for all your comments and feedback; it really inspires me to write more. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the ending! Of course, feel free to leave any thoughts. (:

CHAPTER 15: THAT'S ALRIGHT WITH ME

Being back at Malfoy Manor wasn’t favourable either. You’d have rather hopped on a train somewhere and disappeared into the forest to be left alone with your thoughts. However, this was better than being confined with Fred and George and being teased relentlessly about Bill. Every question they had pushed you to the precipice of admitting the truth and you didn’t want them to hear it. If anything, you wanted Bill to hear first.

“(Y/N)!” Narcissa exclaimed when you walked in the doors just before lunch. She was dressed like she was going out to town later this afternoon. “What are you doing here?”

“I can tell you’re absolutely delighted by my presence.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I am,” Narcissa corrected, her left hand gliding on the stair railing as she descended the steps. “I just wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

“I’d like to spend a night or two here before,” you stammered, “the big move.”

“Well, it is your home.” Narcissa pursed her lips. “And speaking of the move, your father wants to see if you need an extension on that lease on the penthouse. We can’t imagine Shell Cottage is very comfortable in the winter.”

“Yeah,” you responded non-committedly.

“Are you joining us for lunch?” she inquired on the last step down.

“I already ate,” you lied. That was enough to satisfy your mother’s question.

“Then we’ll see you at dinner,” she said, passing you and turning the corner. “I’ll have Dobby prepare another seat.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

When your mother was out of sight, you ran up the stairs and turned the corner to your room. You flung the door open to your room and the weight of the past week hit you like an avalanche. You scrunched your face, trying to alleviate the tingle in your nose that you knew all too well—there were tears behind your eyes.

Your mind reeled back to the pleasant memories you shared with Bill, trying to look for little hints and clues. There had to be a flicker of love in those eyes, even if they were just for a split second. Maybe you were a fool for convincing yourself of it because it was clear that Bill didn’t care; he was moving back to Egypt and didn’t consult you or offer the courtesy of letting you know. You. Didn’t. Matter. The weight of that thought was cruel and punishing on your heart.

What was holding him back? Why shouldn’t he fall in love with you?

Then you realized.

Most people started off a new relationship revealing just bits of themselves—little fragments—and kept their skeletons tucked in the closet. You, however, sped full force ahead, running all the lights because the thought of falling in love with Bill never crossed your mind. You dove headfirst and put the bad and ugly on full display like it was a theatre show. You picked apart your family at every given chance, only to realize too late, when you’d irreversibly fallen for him, that he was searching for someone kind and familial. While he was cherishing time with his siblings, you were picking fights with Draco and your cousins. You felt sick.

Bill was probably ready to settle down, probably ready to have children of his own. You were still a child, directionless and going about your days with no goal in end. How could he like someone who bar-hopped with his younger brothers every summer? You were also barely four years in the working world, Bill was teetering on thirteen. Age, especially the gap between you and Bill, was never an issue for you and you’d never even thought about it. Now combing through all the reasons Bill wouldn’t like you back, it was blaring red.

You laughed blithely. It was your fault. You had fucked it up. You felt the first tears pooling in your eyes. Just a little, you promised. Then you’d stop crying.

You scooted over to look for the tissues in the drawer, but instead, your fingers found Bill’s letter he’d sent the morning after the first dinner. That fated dinner felt like yesterday and ages ago all at once. You were never going to get that back, the first meeting, the comfortable friendship you’d built with Bill. If he mentioned he was trotting off to Egypt back then, you wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. Now, things were complicated beyond repair.

Against better judgement, you began to read.

‘My love….’

Instantaneously, you came to a devastating realization that you’d never hear those words out of his mouth. And the thought of that burst the damn. There were hot tears running down your face now. You tried to keep quiet, but your heart amplified what you felt: sheer pain.

The one thing abating the pain was you letting yourself go and dissolving into a cathartic mess. Bill Weasley had reduced you to a lovesick fool and you’d sworn you’d let no man do it.

Feeling uncomfortable after sitting on the ground for so long, you moved up from the carpeted floor to the bed. You reached from the tissues on the nightstand and just laid there, twitching as sporadic sobs racked your body. You remained immobile otherwise, the net result of two opposing forces acting on you: one, telling you to go to Bill, and the other advising you to let it go.

Let him go.

It was probably hours that you’d cycled through napping and crying. You fancied daydreams where you pretended your bed was the same bed you slept in Nice, and that you’d never left the comfort of being by Bill’s side, of being close to him and the water. When you woke up to a different room than you envisioned, you grimaced and cried. In between, you had dreams of someone calling your name repeatedly.

The sun was low when you’d woken up for the umpteenth time. Your eyelids felt heavy, and you knew they were probably red and swollen. You still heard calls for your name, and you quickly realized you weren’t dreaming.

“What are you doing in there?” a sharp voice called from outside the door. “Didn’t you hear the call for dinner?”

You sat paralyzed. It was Draco.

“I’ll come later!” you yelled. The last person you wanted to reveal your weakened state to was your menace of a brother.

“We’ve been calling you for the last half hour!” he stated impatiently. “What’s wrong with you? Come down for supper.”

You panicked. You really didn’t want to be questioned or seen by anyone right now. “I’m fine! Go on, eat without me!”

Draco knocked again. “I don’t believe you one bit. Let me in!”

“I’m fine!” you repeated. “Mind your own business!”

“I gave you a fair enough warning. I’m opening the door.”

“I swear I will kill you if you do,” you threatened.

He jangled the doorknob with more force. “Then open it yourself! You’re acting like a petulant child, (Y/N)!”

The will to fight with him was leaving your body. You were tired, beaten down, and parched for water and even someone to confide in. You didn’t imagine it’d be Draco, but at some point, you needed to let someone in and offer you guidance. You pushed yourself off the bed, your head feeling heavier than the rest of your body. You trundled the steps to the door and opened it slowly.

As if it were a joke, you looked at Draco with your tear-stained face, bloodshot eyes, mussed hair, and forced a wide smile. “Happy?” You knew he’d mock you endlessly, and this front was the best way to shield yourself against it.

You weren’t sure what to expect, but you didn’t expect Draco to take a step back. The snarl on his face quickly dissolved into a soft expression of surprise.

He had swallowed whatever he had wanted to say and instead asked, “What’s wrong?”

Your tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, obviously.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I haven’t seen you cry for ages. Not since you broke your leg at Hogwarts after that stunt you tried pulling with your friends.”

“I was fine,” you murmured. “Same difference.”

He asked, without missing a beat, “Does it have to do with Weasley?”

You feebly shook your head.

Draco peered at you in disbelief.

A sob in your throat threatened to rise and manifest into a cry. You urged Draco into the room. “Shut the door,” you demanded.

Draco closed the door behind him and walked in. “You’re lying. I always know when you’re lying,” he immediately fired. “Much like I always know when you’re upset about something, or who it’s about—”

He stopped when your nose scrunched up again. Flustered, and probably not used to dealing with a crying sister or crying women in general, he grabbed a tissue from your nightstand and handed it over to you.

“So, it is Weasley,” he concluded.

You said nothing. You found it hard to honest with him; there was little trust with how often you went behind each other’s backs. But at some point, both of you needed to let your walls down and get to root of it all—you were siblings, after all.

“I take that as a yes,” he finished for you. “What happened? Has he not been treating you well?”

“No,” you blew into the tissue, “he’s moving.”

“Where? The cottage?”

“Egypt.”

“Egypt?” Draco repeated incredulously, then whispered under his breath, “What the fuck?” He looked back at you. “Is this a joke? I’m trying to be serious here with you, (Y/N). So, quit joking around.”

You looked at him with bleary eyes and shook your head. “I’m serious. I wish I wasn’t.”

“Have you discussed this together?” Draco continued. “That’s a rather large decision to make without your input.”

“He doesn’t need my input,” you said as you squeezed your eyes shut, wringing out more tears. “I officially do not matter to him.”

Draco looked at you, puzzled. “What do you mean? Have you broken up?”

You shook your head and paused for a while. You were fighting with yourself to tell Draco the truth, but there was still a chance that he’d be a righteous ass about it. Your resolve to rekindle your relationship could easily backfire on you. But the genuine look on his face swayed your decision.

“It means you were right. It was all a farce because I didn’t want to date Crabbe and I wanted to get mother and father off my back at the same,” you admitted with a grimace, cracking one eye open to gauge his expression. When he remained quiet, you continued.

“So, yeah,” you finished with a hiccup. “We’re not actually together.”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed his arm. “Don’t tell them please,” you pleaded weakly. “Mother and father.”

Draco shook his head and stared at you. “I can’t believe it.”

“I know.” You fell back on the bed. “I think we did too good of a job, didn’t we? I’ve even persuaded myself to be in love with him.”

“No,” Draco corrected. “Truthfully, I thought I was mistaken near the end, in France. The beginning was a different story. I saw you kicking him under the table and his arm fly up.” He smiled when he saw you laugh through your clogged nose—at least his commentary was taking your mind off things. “You’re also an awful liar.”

“That’s because we’re family,” you explained. You motioned from your eyes to his with two fingers. “I’ve been your sister forever. I also know when you lie. I’ve been observing you for twenty-one years. I know you wet your bed when you were six, when we shared a bed in Switzerland, so don’t try blaming it on me again.”

A rare smile snaked its way on his face, then fell again. “I,” he looked away, embarrassed. “I know we haven’t had the best relationship the past couple of years.”

“And whose fault was that?”

Draco paused, not used to taking the blame for anything. So, you took the chance to speak to him, sibling to sibling. “I’ve never stopped caring for you, you know. You’re my little brother.” Your voice caught. “I could never imagine being cruel to you, but at times, it was the only way to talk to you.”

“I… somewhere along the lines, I was….” He paused, a glitch in this new sentimental and human Draco. “Too uptight and thought you were smearing the family name with who you associated with.” He shuffled a little. “But you’re my sister, you’ve always been there for me, whether it was sticking up for me in front of our parents or getting Pansy off my back. So, I’m….”

“You’re?” you egged, the corner of your lips lifting.

“I’m sorry.”

He obviously wasn’t used to these foreign words rolling off his tongue, but you accepted his apology regardless. You knew he meant it.

You peered up at him. “Truce?”

He nodded. “Truce.”

Then he added, “And I wasn’t serious about Crabbe. Even I find him revolting. Truthfully, I haven’t talked to him in years. I was mortified to have that goof as a friend.”

“You don’t want Crabbe as your brother-in-law?” you pressed.

Draco made a face. “I would actually hope you’d get disowned if that ever happened. You’re miles above him in any sort of league.”

“I don’t know,” you said, fiddling with your hair. “Father seems to approve of him.”

Draco’s face contorted in disgust at the thought of Crabbe as family. “Whatever happens with Weasley, just know you’re too good for him, too. If he fucks up, then it’s his loss.”

“You’re serious?”

“Have I ever said anything so nice to you?”

“Never!”

You propelled yourself off the bed. “Can I have a—?” you asked, reaching your arms out.

Before you could finish, Draco rolled his eyes and pulled you into a hug. He was a little stiff and robotic, but it felt just like the old days.

“Don’t expect this all the time,” he scoffed, one of his hands giving you a pat on the back of your head. He looked up at the ceiling in embarrassment. “It’s only because you’re upset.”

“I will expect one every day from now on,” you mumbled, heart bursting with love for your baby brother. It felt good to have him back just like things were. “Three every day if Bill moves to Egypt.”

“He’s not moving,” Draco reiterated, his voice holding firm. “Not if you have anything to do with it.”

You reached up to ruffle his perfect blonde hair. You were so glad you’d come home first. At home, you’d realized, there was always someone’s arms to cry into. Most of the times, it was your mother’s, but you welcomed change.

You sprinted in record time to the penthouse entrance after arriving at the gardens outside of it. Draco’s words renewed your confidence and pointed you in the right direction. There was no way you’d let Bill leave without him knowing how you felt. And Draco had affirmed that it was his loss if you he let you go. Bill’s loss. He was losing you, not vice versa.

You were hoping to catch Bill at home before he departed to the Burrow. You might’ve still gone there, but to have to confess your feelings to him within earshot of his family would be something you’d never live down.

You rushed past the concierge in hot pursuit for the speaker. You pressed one palm flush against the cool metal, the other finger shaking as you hammered down the numbers to connect to his suite. A voice responded after you hit the call button: “Hello?”

“Hello, Bill?” you called out frantically.

“(Y/N)?” he responded, voice fuzzy through the speaker. “What are you doing here?”

“I think,” you lied through deep pants, “I might’ve left something in your suitcase.”

“Okay,” he responded without question. “Come on up.”

Your heart was beating a thousand miles a minute on the lift. You did a final one-over of your appearance and it looked like the enchantment did a swell job at fixing your puffy and red eyes. You repeated everything you were going to say in your mind, a jumble of words sewn together into a somewhat coherent speech on your way here.

You mulled over the conversation like it was a looping film reel in your head, black-and-white and chock full of static. You were going to sit on the couch with Bill, your tone calm like you were an actual adult. If he craved maturity, then that’s what you were going to give him. You were going to listen to him. You were going to be rational. You were going to say, “Bill, I have to admit, I’m disappointed that you hadn’t talked to me about moving to Egypt first. Because, over the months, I’ve developed feelings for you,” and let the conversation carry on.

When the lift doors opened, a bubble of anxiety swelled in your chest. The penthouse was almost bare. Was it like this the first time you arrived? No, there was a French press on the counter and pans and tasteful Percy-picked paintings adorning the walls. There definitely weren’t full cardboard boxes tucked to the side.

“Hey.” Bill ran down the steps with a roll of tape in one hand and a flat box in the other. “What can I help you look for?”

Bill’s weight—rhythmic thuds—on the stairs reassured you he was real, still here beside you and not three thousand miles away. This time tomorrow though, he might not be. The thought triggered a stinging behind your eyes. The sorrow quickly turned into frustration as you realized in the past week, he hadn’t even bother to initiate conversation. He was acting like France was nothing more than a dream, that he didn’t spend most of his time beside you, sharing tender laughs and honest conversations. Why was it you who had to do all the legwork?

‘Compose yourself, (Y/N),’ you scolded. ‘Be mature, be rational.’ You were going— no, there was no chance of that as soon as the thought of Bill never being by your side again infiltrated your head again. Despite thinking you were wrung dry from the morning, you felt tears streaming down your cheeks.

It was Bill’s turn to panic. “Hey,” he said, setting up the folded-up cardboard box against the wall and running over, “what’s wrong?”

“Why?” was all you could choke out. The rest of your rehearsed speech washed out of your mind immediately when you saw his face.

“Why what?” Bill repeated.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?!” you exclaimed, voice pitching up as more tears leaked out of your eyes. There was a patch of hoarseness quilted in your voice but you continued, strained, “Why would you move and not tell me?”

“What?” Bill said. His face contorted in confusion. “I thought you knew, (Y/N).”

“The thing is, I didn’t know!” You gasped for breath. “You don’t need my permission to do anything, but you could’ve at least told me!”

“I think,” Bill’s hands cupped your cheeks, his thumb stroking a tear away, “we need to sit down and talk because I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

You just nodded, Bill’s calm tone abating your anger and your desire to ask whose fault it was that you weren’t eye-to-eye. You sat down on the couch facing the window on his left. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, its red hues seeping into the room, and you knew dinner at the Burrow was about to start soon.

“Firstly,” Bill said, reaching for a box of tissues on the coffee table and offering you to draw one. You reached for one but kept your face turned the other way towards the kitchen, unwilling to let Bill see you like this. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You bit your lip, mind flittering between whether or not to tell him the truth.

Eventually, after a few seconds of silence, you relented. “If I tell you, will you promise not to say anything until I’m finished?”

From the corner of your eye, Bill nodded.

“Okay.”

“You,” you mumbled quietly at first. You had decided: fuck it. If Bill was moving to Egypt, then you should just say everything that was on your mind. It wouldn’t matter if he rejected you since he was going to be miles away.

His face was pensive, eyebrows knitting and eyes squinted, like he was combing over everything that’s ever left his mouth. He laid his right arm motionless on the armrest.

“Was it… something I—?” He quickly stopped himself when you gave him an irksome glance, and he realized he’d broken your first rule of the conversation: don’t speak.

Your voice gained traction and you took advantage of the momentum to admit, “It wasn’t what you said, it was everything you didn’t say.”

“Bill,” you continued, turning your head to look at him. Everything you wanted to say, every feeling and secret you kept locked up in gold chains for the past few weeks, snapped and was spilling out like a torrent. “I know I can’t change the year I was born. And trust me, I’ve been in a right state because I can’t be older or more mature like you. I can’t change who my parents are or who I am or how we get along. I can’t be what you want. And I’ve never even considered any of this to be important or ever thought about it, but in the past week, it’s all I ever thought about, and—”

You squeezed your eyes shut and blotted your tears onto the tissue in your hand.

“When I think about why, it always loops back around to you. Because you’re all I can think about now. It pains me to be something you don’t want, like I’m a puzzle piece that doesn’t belong. And it pains me that I matter so little to you that you can’t even share what goes on in your life with me. And it’s alright if you don’t feel the same way, but it’s taken such a toll on me, knowing you don’t care about me the way I care about you.”

Bill remained silent, his lips pressed tightly together. His hands were unmoving.

“Okay, I’m done,” you added quietly after taking a deep breath. You still couldn’t muster the courage to face him.

At the same time, Bill exhaled. “I don’t know what to respond to first,” he admitted. “But let’s go one by one, okay?”

Your body tensed. You liked talking a mile a minute, hoping that Bill would forget the barrage of words you hurled at him; Bill wanted to break everything down gently. Now, everything was in his hands and he could steer the conversation either way. You were dying for some semblance of your feelings being returned, but you were mainly preparing to be let down. At best, you would get closure before he left.

You sniffed, lips curving downwards, and nodded.

“Firstly, there’s no need to change yourself,” Bill reminded. “You are lovely the way you are.”

“That’s not true,” you said with a shake of your head. “I’ve only shown you the worst parts of me, well, the real parts which are also the worst parts. For example, you’ve always talked so lovingly about your family. I’ve only talked mine down.”

“On the contrary,” Bill stated. “I think you have an excellent relationship with your family.” Bill shuffled slightly closer to you, trying to get you to look at him. “But tell me, (Y/N), what is this sudden fixation on our families?”

“I—you,” you stuttered, both at Bill’s inching closer towards you and the unabashed words that you were going to say, “you think it’s important, so it’s important to me.”

Bill chuckled. “People can be close to their family in different ways.”

“Can they?”

He nodded. “Have Fred and George told you? Mum was more upset than I’d ever seen her when they dropped out of school just months shy of finishing. She scolded them that entire week, then turned around to tell the neighbours how brilliant her boys were, the unconventional route they took and their success and all.”

He added, “She tells me women are turned off by my hair and earrings, then the same afternoon, tells her friends at her sewing club that I’m England’s most eligible bachelor. Doesn’t make any sense, really.”

You let out a nasally laugh that was more akin to a snort. “Really?”

“Really!” Bill affirmed with a smile. “You never know what your parents are saying behind your back.” He tilted his head, trying to see more of your face. “In France, your dad wouldn’t stop talking about you during the golf course. I thought he was boasting to your uncle Theodore as a game strategy, but he’d say the same to me in between holes.”

Bill continued on. “Draco told me you always stood up for him in front of your parents, and to his estranged lover.”

“Estranged—?”

“Pansy, I think her name was?” Bill filled in. “He was really mumbling the words out. Reckon he didn’t want to admit it.”

“Oh, right,” you said with a laugh. “She was a lot. Still a lot. Still in love with him.”

“You’ve had it harder than me, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love your family,” Bill stated. Then his tone bordered on teasing. “And (Y/N), there are other qualities I like in a woman, not just their relationship with family. I hope I’m not that one-dimensional.”

“I can imagine!” you sputtered, spinning around. “It was the only thing you told me and the only thing I had to go off of. I tried extrapolating the rest, but…”

You stopped talking when you realized Bill had your gaze in a headlock. That look in his eyes had you weak, some form of genuine curiosity and tenderness sparking in them. It was dangerous. It beckoned you to answer any question he asked.

“And what did you come up with?” he asked.

You grinded your teeth behind your sealed mouth. It was best to just say it, having already gone far past the point of no return. Still, you couldn’t help but feel mortified.

“I’d imagined you with a more mature woman. Someone who holds their liquor and doesn’t need assistance down the steps after a wedding. I’m the same age as Fred and George. They’re your younger brothers. Surely, you think of me the same.”

“I mean, yes, you are the same age, but I don’t think of you as a younger sister,” Bill explained. He scoffed before saying, “I mean, that would be unsettling if I did because—”

“Because?”

Bill’s lips suddenly quirked up into a sheepish grin. It was now his turn to be reluctant and quiet. His blue eyes shifted to a random corner of the room.

“Because what?” you fished, your palm flat on the couch in anticipation. Inside, your heart was erratic, pounding against your chest. You just needed to hear the right words to push you over the edge.

“I do fancy you.”

You jaw lowered slightly. Did you hear that right? He did fancy you. Suddenly, you were floating. Your ears were ringing, blood was rushing through your brain, euphoria cycling through your veins, and you felt almost delightfully faint. He didn’t just say that, did he? You were definitely imagining it. But you couldn’t have been, given how Bill’s face, and the flush of red by his ears, slowly dappling his cheeks over his freckles, was so clear.

“Can you say that again?”

Bill burst into laughter at your reaction. “It was hard enough the first time.” He remarked the pleading expression on your face before obliging. “(Y/N), I do fancy you quite a bit. I hope it was more obvious than not.”

“I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” you whispered. “Because it would kill me if you didn’t feel the same.”

“Do you remember what we said when we were at the shop, planning out,” he used air quotes, “our future?”

“What part of it?”

“When I said familiarity was uneasy.”

“Yes.” You could recall that perfectly. It was when he asked you why you didn’t choose his brothers to play out your schemes with.

“I’m glad we met under the pretenses we did,” Bill recalled. “We were able to show each other everything, no secrets or lies. And like I thought, there was nothing bad about you to uncover anyway.”

“I’m glad,” you sighed, feeling the last bit of stress dissipating from your body. “Because I thought I’d lost you for the same reason.”

Bill cleared his throat. “So, your age matters little to me. What matters to me is that you are intelligent, kind, and delightfully mischievous with your schemes,” the corner of his lip crooked up into a smile, “not to mention, you are really quite beautiful.”

Your eyes softened and your heart was beating erratically against your chest; you were just elated that Bill loved parts of you that you didn’t think he did.

Well, that was before he added, “And how could I forget? I do love your tendency to enjoy debauchery in the form of books.”

“Will you,” you grabbed a pillow beside you, “stop bringing,” and chucked it at Bill, “that up?!”

“There’s nothing wrong with that! It just means you are well-read,” Bill reasoned, evading the cushion flung his way. “If anything, learning to iron robes and how to best polish oxfords can be very useful.”

You gave him a pointed look.

“Not that I expect you to know,” he clarified quickly, horrified at how you could’ve interpreted it. He pointed to his chest. “I was keeping it in mind for myself.”

“You better not!” you chided, though a wide grin was breaking out across your face. You didn’t look intimidating in the slightest.

With Bill’s joke dispelling the tension, the air cleared enough to ask him another question, another itch only his words could scratch. “If it wasn’t my age, or my family, or even me, then what was, or is, stopping you from...?”

“I…” Bill trailed off. “You know, it’s never a good idea to get into one relationship too quickly after another. You could be using someone to satisfy a void.”

“Right,” you agreed without thinking. But what did you know? Bill had been previously committed, and you’d never been attached to anyone past three dates.

“I’m human, I’ve made mistakes, I try to learn from them.” His fingers ghosted over your temple before brushing a renegade hair from your face. “It would be unfair to drag you into something because I was selfish and unsure.”

“But it’s been almost a year now, surely?” you said. “I thought most people did this rebounding thing right after. I’m not saying it means you should be ready, I’ve just heard—”

“I know, I know,” he agreed. “But you’re just,” he stopped, looking down at you with a gentle and lopsided smile that made your legs wobbly, “something I wanted to take my time with. I don't know if I could live with myself if I hurt you in the slightest.”

You pressed, “Has your opinion changed at all? Since then?”

Bill grinned. “Of course it has.”

You felt more at ease now. “What’s changed it?”

“I missed you in the days we were apart. I really did, (Y/N).” His face showed calm but there was something frantic in his pulse, his words, his entire being. “All summer, Gringrotts wrote to me and wanted me to stay in Egypt as I was doing a fairly good job over there. The European branches sent Fleur to convince me to move to Belgium instead. But when I came home, I realized I missed being with my family.”

You listened wordlessly, wonderstruck at the fact that someone like Bill Weasley existed.

“With mum and dad getting older, I knew I needed to stay home and take care of them if anything happened. They’ve already lost Charlie to Romania and Percy to the Ministry.” He ended the statement with a chuckle.

“Bill, that is so very considerate of you,” you spoke through shallow breaths, “but after all this, you’re still moving?”

“Yes, but it’s not very far away.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Egypt is over three-thousand miles from here.”

“Egypt?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Where did you hear I was moving to Egypt?”

“From George, I—”

“I mean, I was considering it, but I’ve ultimately decided to stay here.” He pointed down with his index finger. “Shell Cottage is a very easy floo away from home.” Then, with an impish smile, he added, “But you know, my family wasn’t the only thing anchoring me.”

“It wasn't?”

A serious expression eclipsed Bill’s face. “I thought of you.”

He thought of you.

“You seem to have an influence over my decisions.” Bill leaned over and in a near whisper, continued. “I thought that if there was any chance that if we,” he looked right at you, “worked out in any sense, me being in Egypt would not make anything easier.”

“Why would we not work out?” you said, apprehension creeping in your voice. If Bill expressed any doubt this far in the conversation, you weren’t sure how you’d take it. He couldn’t take back a confession, he just couldn’t.

“(Y/N), you have to admit,” Bill began, catching your gaze again. You felt your heart stutter at his intense look and those mesmerizing baby blues. “It’s been confusing for me, too. You chose me as your fake lover based on things you were opposed to: my hair, tattoos, my age. Especially my age, I’ve heard. How was I supposed to ask you about it?”

“What?” you blurted out. “Bill, I adore the first two things and I’ve stopped thinking about how old you were. It never even crosses my mind anymore unless someone is bringing it up.”

You took one of his larger hands, heart swelling at how natural it felt, and urged him to look at you. You were trying to convey your thoughts earnestly through touch, like your hands were intertwined with his heart.

“The goal was to make my parents upset, and I thought it worked but it turns out they really like you, especially the golf abilities you’ve kept hidden for thirty years,” you admitted. You reached out to gingerly stroke Bill’s hair, the short locks softly sliding past your fingers. “I truthfully adore all these things: your long hair, tattoos, piercings. And if it were up to me, you’d never cut your hair again.”

“Shame,” he said. “I was starting to like the length. It’s rather airy in the summer.”

“Just the summer, then. I’m willing to negotiate.” You pointed to the fang earring. “But this,” you gently touched it with your free hand, “is non-negotiable. In fact, you could use another piercing or two.”

“Noted,” Bill responded.

“And please, keep these rings,” you mumbled, your fingers falling to admire the bands of silver taut on his fingers. Your voice was now barely audible as you whispered to yourself, “This is quite literally the most attractive thing I’ve seen on a man.”

“What was that?” Bill asked, leaning in unbearably close now. You felt a spark on your lips where was looking.

“Nothing, I, er,” you fumbled, trying to redirect his attention. When you looked up, you saw it: the last object of your adoration. It was his eyes – those blue lifelines to his heart. You leaned in, just inches away from him and the closest you’d ever been, and placed a hand softly on his face, unknowingly flittering over a scar. “Your eyes are beautiful, I… there are no words to describe them.”

He brushed a loose strand of your back and tucked it behind your ear. “Then don’t.”

That was all he said before he closed the short distance between you. Your heart soared when you felt the rougher texture of his lips on your soft ones. You knew at the very least, you had to close your eyes like he had, but you wanted to see him for just another second. You wanted to soak in Bill like he was the sea, let him wash over every sense—sight, touch, taste—you had.

Bill was gentle, gradually easing you into the kiss, giving you air when he felt you needed it. The thing was that you didn’t need air, you just needed more of him. He chuckled when he felt you nudging him closer.

Half of you knew he was physically here, while the half was wondering if you were in some daydream. So, you treaded along precariously, trying not to disturb this lucid dream you found yourself in. Merlin knew how much you would’ve given to kiss Bill Weasley just a month ago.

You drifted from the kiss slowly to confirm something. “So, does this mean…?”

“I’d like to have you as my girlfriend, if you’d have it.” He stated it like there was any chance of hesitation on your end, which there wasn’t.

“Bill,” you exhaled with elation, letting out a relieved breath. “That’s not even a question.”

He moved both his hands to caress the back of your head, fingers tangling with your soft locks. His grip was firmer when he pulled you back towards him. Your lips met again, but this time, he deepened the kiss, was a touch more dominant than he was just seconds ago. You obliged immediately, waltzing with him in the intimate dance. Surely, you weren’t as experienced as Bill was, but he guided you perfectly, urging you to part your lips with a gentle prod of his tongue. He tilted his head to gain better access just as his hands slithered down your body. He gripped your waist firmly, and then did something that sent a shiver down your spine.

He let out a low, guttural groan.

“You are worth the wait,” he breathed huskily. “You’ve been driving me insane for months, (Y/N).”

Before you could flush even deeper at his words, he quickly pulled you over his lap so your legs were splayed out on each side of him. Your pulse grew frantic as both you and Bill shed any sense of slow and steady and replaced it with fast and vigorous. If you weren’t already overheated, you sure were now, feeling the harder parts of him against parts of you that were aching, hearing his desire for you aloud. You unknowingly grinded into him, trying to dissipate the want building. You were a mess of heat and occasionally, the clashing of teeth, which even if imperfect, spoke to the feverish pitch things were reaching.

His hands travelled past the hem of your skirt, doting the back of your thighs until they were positioned on your rear. He kneaded the soft skin and it was your turn to groan.

Bill’s eyes darkened slightly as you straddled his lap. His fingers tightened on your skin until you were sure they’d leave red marks. “I’m a man, (Y/N). I have my own urges to act upon, but.”

“But?” you asked, feeling whiplashed at Bill’s sudden stop.

“But, I do think I should take you somewhere nice first.” He slicked his hair back and tilted his head up to look at you. “That’s only proper, isn’t it?”

“I suppose?” you responded with an inflection, your heart fluttering in hummingbird beats, much too fast to speak coherently. You still felt like you’d ascended to the heavens, your mind in a state so blissful and delirious that you were half-responding to Bill. “I don’t mind either way, really, I…”

“Alright,” Bill agreed. “Then we’ll sort out how you’d like to proceed after the dinner I promised mum to go to.”

“The dinner,” you repeated. You’d forgotten all about it in the heat of things. You were just overjoyed it wasn’t a farewell dinner for Bill. “I can wait until you’re back.”

“What are you talking about?” he questioned with a laugh. He pushed himself off the couch with you in tow and your legs wrapped around his waist. “We’re going to the dinner.” Then he leaned in again, his breath fanning your face. “Together.”

“Are you sure?” you asked shyly, nervous at the prospect of facing the entire Weasley family and more. “I mean, a family dinner. It seems like a big thing, doesn’t it?”

With Bill hoisting you up, you were finally taller than him. You were privy to things you didn’t normally get to see, like how his long lashes framed his eyes, how sturdy the bridge of his nose was, and how tempting his lips looked pulled into a smirk. If you had a say, you’d forego the dinner and kiss him all night instead.

“You took me to one,” he countered.

“Under false pretenses,” you said, scrunching your face up.

“Okay, consider this a family dinner that is actually entirely truthful. This is a second chance to do things right and not lie about anything.”

“Who said I was lying about anything?” you snickered. “Maybe I do want seven children and to never retire and to fly around in the Ford Anglia everywhere.”

Bill shook his head. “I don’t think anyone would be happy with oil leaking from the sky. Kingsley would tax you for environmental damages under the new green law.” He tossed a wink your way, knowing exactly how to counteract your sarcasm, and said, “But I would be happy to oblige your other requests.”

“No!” you yelped, clasping your hands over your mouth. The thought of the rest of your life inundated by seven kids and little Freds and Georges clinging to your sides was a nightmare. How did Molly do it? Bill was forcing himself not to laugh. You knew he was only joking, but you couldn’t help but give him a little slap on the arm.

You looked directly at him. “In all seriousness, should we tell them one-by-one?” you asked.

“What about?”

“About us,” you responded. “We shouldn’t give your mother a heart attack.”

“(Y/N),” Bill assured with a breath-taking smile, spinning you around in his arms. The look on his face was luminous. He really was the sun that broke the storm. “We’re going to tell the whole world tonight.”

Epilogue

Standing on the hilly and grassy entrance of the Burrow, Bill was appraising you with concern. He could sense the rigidity in your body as he held your hand.

“How are you feeling, love?”

“Relieved and nervous,” you explained. “Relieved because this isn’t your farewell party. Nervous because it’s your family.”

“You know my family,” Bill reminded. “There is nothing to worry about.”

“Are you completely certain this is a good idea?” you asked. “I don’t want to overwhelm them.”

“I’ve never had a bad idea,” he boasted with a toothy smile.

Bill pushed the creaky wooden door open for you, his hand still clasped on yours, unwilling to let go of your fingers in case you wanted to escape. He ducked under the doorframe as he entered. You followed him into the Burrow—Bill’s childhood home. You’ve been here before but this just felt different, like you were now a part of the family and not just an extension of it. You shied away, thinking Molly would be right there. She wasn’t. You saw Percy in the living room, turned away and nose in a book. Charlie, who you were surprised to see had returned from Romania, was pouring himself beer from the pitcher. Molly was snipping herbs from her potted plant by the windowsill, oblivious to your arrival.

Charlie was the first to look up, being the closest to you, at you and your hands intertwined. A slow, devious, and somewhat knowing smile creeped up on his face. Bill shushed him and Charlie covered his mouth with his free hand. Of course, Charlie remained silent, tempted to see how his mother would react.

“Hi, mum,” Bill called from across the room.

“Bill, darling,” she responded offhandedly, preoccupied by the finishing touches she was putting on her vegetable roast. She was slow to turn around, more focused on carrying a heavy dish with her oven mitts. And when she did, her eyes landed on your faces first.

“(Y/N)!” she called. “How nice of you to bring her, Bill.”

Her eyes were still locked on your face and hadn’t made the connection. Your breath caught when Molly’s eyes began trailing downwards in what felt like an eternity.

You didn’t know what to expect, but you didn’t expect to cause such a scene. Molly literally dropped her dish on the floor at the sight of your hand in Bill’s. The ceramic dish shattered and the vegetable roast flew in all directions. Percy jolted from his position on the couch, his cry overshadowed by the stew boiling over and the kettle wailing beside it.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed. She seemed so flustered she didn’t know which way to go—to embrace you or to clean up the mess on the floor or to turn off the stove with the overflowing stew. “I had my suspicions, oh, I—”

In desperation, she called out for her husband to help with one of those tasks. “Arthur!”

He quickly ran in, cheeks rosy, and out of breath.

“What’s the danger?” he panted, looking left and right.

“Oh, Arthur!” Molly exclaimed with a roll of her eyes, her hand on her hip. “There’s no danger.” She pointed to where you stood. Arthur, still unaware, looked over. Bill raised your hand and gave it a little shake. Molly couldn’t control her excitement, so she ran over. You imagined she was tumbling towards Bill, but she chose you instead. You let go of Bill’s hands to hug her.

“My future daughter-in-law!” she exclaimed, patting your cheeks. “Oh, I knew it! I just knew it. You are just so perfect for my Bill.”

“I think that’s an approval from mum,” Bill said to Charlie who was standing offside.

“She’s already making Christmas sweaters for your children,” Charlie teased with a snicker.

“Bill! Come and help me with the vegetables,” Molly commanded, sending over an apron from the closet that was likely too small for him.

Bill looked at the flimsy piece of fabric in his hands. He only had a couple inches of string to work with. “Mum, I think this is Ginny’s—”

Then, Molly pointed to her spilt dish. “Arthur, sweetie, clean this up. And (Y/N),” she guided you by the shoulders and towards the couch where Percy was, “you just sit here and Percy will bring you a beverage.”

“I told you, mum’s a modern feminist,” Bill said to you with a wink. He managed to get a tiny knot from the apron. “How do I look?”

“You look fit,” you complimented. The tiny apron was accentuating all the right muscles. “And in regards to your mother, rightfully so. Millicent be damned.”

“I’m not opposed to her tips in the later chapters,” Bill added with a smirk, causing your face to flush.

“I’ve read it so many times, I have it memorized,” you assured. “You’ll have to find out later.” Bill’s mouth rounded in surprise first, not used to this side of you, before morphing into a more smouldering expression.

“Hey!” Charlie interjected from across the room. “Just because you’re together doesn't mean we all have to be subject to this.”

“You’ve read this book, Charlie?” Bill asked, steering his brother away. “Let me tell you all about (Y/N)’s favourite author…”

“Watch it,” you whispered in the most intimidating tone you could muster.

Bill quickly spring into action with his mother who was appraising his domestic skills. You admired his tall figure, his fingers lithely paring a potato with a peeler.

Bill’s tall figure was quickly replaced by Percy, who looked abashed as he brought a beer over to you.

“I….”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I know. I’m a selfish person, I’m working on it.”

“You’re not selfish. I shouldn’t have jumped to assumptions,” he conceded. “It’s a bad habit of mine.”

“It’s not,” you reassured.

Percy nodded and let a moment of silence linger over you before asking, “Say, how did you arrange that meeting with Rookwood?”

“Would you like to know?” you said with a smile. “I can set you up.”

At dinner, Bill sat beside you. You didn’t need much integrating or any introductions; you’d been here already and there was already a seat for you. Occasionally and to your pleasure, he’d take your hand under the dinner table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“So,” Molly started as she sat down. She looked directly at you two. “I’d like to know this happened.”

Neither you or Bill could contain your laughter, given the wild story you were about to tell. You were the first to recover, and slowly, you began, “It started, around a table just like this…”

After dinner and dessert was had, you and Bill departed for the backyard. You were swinging with him on a hammock, away from the commotion inside, and watching the stars. They were exceptionally clear tonight, or maybe it was that being with Bill made the world slightly brighter.

“Bill?” you asked, snuggling in closer to him to shield yourself from the cold.

He turned to you. “Hm?”

“You’re coming to Nice next year, too?”

“Of course,” he responded, like there wasn’t even a flicker of doubt.

“And the next?”

“And the next,” he affirmed. “I wouldn’t even question it.”

“Good,” you said with a blissful sigh.

Under the starry night, you counted your blessings and thanked the heavens as you soaked Bill in. After days and weeks of fluxing emotions, he’d made it clear tonight: he was yours, yours for the rest of your life if you made sure of it.

Unbeknownst to you, the twins sat on the couch inside murmuring amongst themselves.

“You cheated,” Fred accused. “He wasn’t going to Egypt anyway.”

“That wasn’t one of the rules, Freddie. It’s not like I made them kiss or anything,” George said with a shrug. “I only accelerated what was going to eventually happen.”

Fred cursed under his breath as he gave George galleons he lost. That was a good whole month of pay, all gone!

“I thought she’d be a little more resilient than that.”

“Hm, shows you don’t know her that well,” George said with a smirk, depositing the money in his pockets.

“I hate to say that it was well-played, but poor (Y/N). You did a number to her heart there.” Fred said with a pout. “I think she really thought he was moving to Egypt.”

“Now our poor sweet (Y/N), stolen by the treacherous grasp of our eldest brother,” George lamented.

“Not like she would’ve chosen you anyway.”

Fred placed his hand over his heart, offended. “Nor would she you.” Then he leaned back on the couch, watching you from outside the window, swaying on the hammock with Bill. You’d been out there for almost an hour.

George spun the gleaming gallon on the table.

“Now, next on the list of affairs to bet on: when’s the wedding?”

<<CHAPTER DIRECTORY (READ IT AGAIN!)

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