#anyways... turns out that date is too close to the wedding for my cousin so they're wanting to move it to the weekend before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaitidid22 · 2 years

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All the Love (light Conrad/Billie, with Billie & Everybody)

Summary: Leela and Devon are getting married. Billie is dealing with egomaniacal surgeons. And everybody wants Jessica (in their OR). (Canon-friendly to date & set post-season 6.)

A/N: I had so many AO3 tags on this one.

All the Love

“Three days to go,” Billie said brightly as Leela walked into Billie’s office.

“Don’t remind me,” Leela said, but a smile was hiding behind her haggard expression. “We still have a million things to do, and the caterer apparently no longer makes one of the appetizers we ordered. How does that even happen? We ordered it six months ago. So, we’ve been debating mini crostini versus mac and cheese balls for almost twenty-four hours.”

“Mac and cheese bites?” Billie asked, startled.

From what she knew of Leela’s fusion Roaring Twenties in Bollywood theme, fried balls of mac and cheese being passed around the reception seemed a bit… off.

“Exactly!” Leela shook her head in disbelief. “Devon is insisting. For the kids, he says. We’ve invited, like, five children. Arjun and Elijah, who are barely eating solid foods. One of our cousins has a baby. And Gigi and Sammie, who are both in the wedding, and the only two old enough to even eat a mac and cheese ball.”

Leela groaned. “But Devon is going to win on this because I’m too tired to keep saying ‘it’s not on theme, Devon.’ Plus, he’s being so damn cute about it. For the kids! Damn him. I hate that he’s going to win. Mac and cheese? Why?”

Billie’s face screwed up in sympathy. “I’m sorry. At least they’re delicious.”

Leela gave her a suspicious look. “You eat mac and cheese balls?”

“My goddaughter is six,” Billie pointed out. “I’ve eaten all the fried foods she can get her tiny hands on. She’s especially fond of fried okra.”

Leela’s lips pursed. “Ew.”

Billie laughed. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that. They’ll revoke your Southerner card.”

“At least Devon isn’t insisting on fried okra,” Leela said, staring into the distance.

As much as Billie loved weddings—and she really, really loved weddings—planning a wedding had always sounded like a nightmare to her. She watched Leela take a deep, cleansing breath, eyes fluttering shut as she centered herself, and then Leela slapped a smile on her face and looked Billie square in the eye.

Oh no, Billie thought. Et tu, Brute?

“Anyway,” Leela said. “I need to talk to you.”

“You need a consult?” Billie asked, hoping that’s what was happening.

“No,” Leela said. “I want to talk to you about Jessica.”

You and every other surgeon, Billie thought.

But she smoothed out her face into its professional mien and said, “What about Nurse Feldman?”

Leela’s confidence faltered for a moment when confronted with the expressionless face and formal tone. But then she rallied. “As you know, I’ve taken on the patient load that Dr. Bell would have handled. And he has been a fantastic mentor for several years.”

“Yes, we’re all relieved he’s going to continue on in a teaching capacity,” Billie said.

With the others, Billie had rushed them along—get to the point, Dr. Yamada. But Leela was a new attending, and Billie wanted to encourage her to stand up for herself and make the bold asks. So, Billie waited as Leela struggled to force herself to say the words.

Leela squared her shoulders. “I’ve worked almost exclusively with Jessica in the OR for the past year. I feel we make an excellent team, and I want to continue our partnership in a more official capacity.”

“Meaning?”

“I’d like Jessica to be dedicated to my surgeries.” After a long pause, Leela hastened to add, “When possible.”

Billie clicked her tongue. “You almost had it.”

Leela sighed, shoulders drooping a little. “I fumbled at the end.”

“So close,” Billie said.

Leela gave Billie the trademark hopeful expression that always reminded Billie of how young Leela truly was. “Well? What do you think?”

“I think you have a solid argument,” Billie said, choosing her words cautiously. “I also think that hospital policy dictates scrub nurses be assigned as shifts allow.”

Leela’s eyes turned determined, ready to fight for what she wanted. “Is this because I’m so junior? I know I only made attending a few—”

“No,” Billie said firmly. “This is hospital policy. Which was written, in part, as a protection for the nurses. They don’t report to surgeons, and they should never be put in a position where a surgeon, or any doctor, has that much control over their careers in the hospital. Bell’s arrangement was an exception to that policy granted on the basis of a career spent working with a long line of scrub nurses over years at Chastain.”

It was the exact response she had given to all of the surgeons who had come to her office hoping to poach the same arrangement with Jessica that Dr. Bell had managed to swing. What none of them seemed to understand was that Jessica had requested the arrangement. Jessica loved working with Bell, and she had made sure it had been a stipulation of her renegotiated contract that she be assigned to as many of his surgeries as possible.

Over time, as Bell had handled fewer and fewer on-call emergencies, his and Jessica’s schedules had aligned to the point that Jessica had rarely—if ever—assisted elsewhere. Until the MS flares began, and Bell had been forced to take weeks away from the hospital at a time. Then Jessica had been back in the usual scrub nurse rotation, assigned as cases came in, and all the surgeons had gotten a taste of having her in their OR. And that had only whetted their appetites.

The surgical staff had too much respect for Dr. Bell to try and request Jessica until he announced his intention to step away from surgery. Bell had kept the news under wraps for months as he slowly moved his surgical duties onto Leela, including the small practice of regular patients he had kept.

But he had made an announcement the week before, and, unfortunately, it had become a feeding frenzy that Billie was trying to battle one ego-driven conversation at a time. A.J., of course, had made it to Billie’s office first. But the rest had soon followed.

Billie had even gone to the Chief Nursing Officer and the medical nurse manager, who supervised the entire staff of scrub nurses, to make sure she was giving the appropriate response. Billie had expected them to be upset at the surgeons’ behavior, at the subtle suggestion that the rest of their scrub staff wasn’t as desirable. Instead, both of them had rolled their eyes and laughed.

And Billie had realized that everyone in the hospital knew that Jessica was the very best, the cream of the crop. It was how she had negotiated such a stellar contract to begin with. Across the board, everyone had already been aware that Jessica’s success wasn’t just Bell’s favoritism in action. And, if there was any jealousy among the scrub team, Billie hadn’t seen any indication of it in that conversation with the nursing leadership.

But it meant that Billie had a problem on her hands. Because eventually the surgeons were going to realize that Jessica had full authority over the decision. Billie could only hold them off for so long. Surgeons were competitive to a fault and would stop at nothing to get what they wanted—because most of them firmly believed they were entitled to anything and everything under the sun.

In short, as long as Jessica remained unassigned, the situation was a ticking time bomb.

“Do you understand?” Billie asked Leela.

Disappointment lingered on Leela’s face, but she nodded. “Of course. Thank you for your time, chief.”

Oh jeez, Billie thought at the sound of her title from Leela’s mouth.

But Leela held her head high as she left Billie’s office. And Billie felt a burst of pride for Leela.

~*~

Billie strode through the double doors that led to the emergency department and breathed in the bitter smell of antiseptic and the lemon from the cleaning products. She had a Pavlovian response to the smell now, which tended to linger on Conrad’s skin and hair until he showered after a shift. And her eyes found him almost immediately, clear across on the other side of the department, grinning down at a patient on a gurney.

But she wasn’t looking for Conrad, and she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

Her eyes checked the central bay desk first and got lucky. Jessica was standing with her husband, Irving, and Billie’s lips thinned when she saw the giant arrangement of flowers in Jessica’s arms. It contained an ombréassortment of at least two dozen red, fuchsia, and pink roses, along with a cadre of other flowers to round out the aesthetic. They sat in a beautiful, ornate vase that was wrapped in a delicate silk ribbon. The whole thing was large enough that Jessica’s body and part of her face was mostly hidden behind dense petals.

Damn, Billie thought. They know already.

“Nice flowers,” Billie said dryly.

Jessica peeked around the bouquet, spotted Billie, and flushed slightly. Billie felt a flash of guilt but wasn’t sure how to address it. She let her eyes flick to Irving.

“Please tell me those are from you,” Billie said.

He gave her an arch look. “You think I can afford that kind of arrangement? Did you see the vase?”

“Hey,” Conrad said from behind her.

Everything inside of Billie softened and warmed as she watched him step up behind one of the other monitors in the nursing bay. She hadn’t spent the night at his place thanks to an ICU patient that had kept her in her office on pins and needles, and it had been almost fifteen hours since she had seen him. Their eyes locked, and a soft smile spread across her face. He braced a hand on either side of the keyboard and smiled back at her.

“Hey,” she said.

“Good morning,” he murmured. “I missed you.”

“Oh my god,” Jessica gushed. “You two are just so adorable.”

“Right? This is what I’ve been saying,” Irving said.

Conrad straightened with a grin and looked back at the computer. “Did you need something?” he asked, typing.

“I have a surgery in thirty minutes,” Jessica said, still smiling broadly at the two of them. Her eyes were suspiciously shiny. "I should get moving."

“Actually,” Billie said, her attention snapping back into focus. “I need to talk to you.”

Jessica froze, eyes clearing. “Me?” she squeaked.

“Yes,” Billie said firmly.

“Is it about the flowers?” Jessica asked in a rush. “Because I did not ask for these—”

“No, I know.”

“—and the gift certificate to the spa was a total shock—”

“The what?” Billie asked, stunned.

“Honey,” Irving said quietly.

“—and I’m so sorry, Dr. Sutton,” Jessica said, still rushing through all the words. “I really didn’t mean to cause all of this—”

Billie held up a hand. “You have nothing to apologize for.” She took a deep breath and stuck her hands in the pockets of her white coat. “I’m actually here to apologize to you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Conrad’s head jerk up to squint at her. In front of Billie, Irving and Jessica both looked flummoxed.

“You’re apologizing to me?” Jessica asked. “Why?”

“The way my staff is behaving is entirely inappropriate,” Billie said. “They shouldn’t be pressuring you like this.”

Jessica eyed the bouquet. “I really don’t mind.”

Billie grinned at her. “I can imagine it’s a little fun.”

“You have no idea,” Jessica gushed.

Billie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Still,” she said gently. Then she hesitated, eyes bouncing around the busy ED. “We can talk about this in private if you’d like.”

“Here is fine,” Jessica said with a shrug. “Everyone knows everything in this hospital anyway.”

Irritation surged for a moment at the reminder. The gossip mill had bitten Billie a few times in the past. But she tamped down on the trauma-based reaction.

Focus, she told herself.

“Very true,” Billie said. “I know you have to prep for a surgery, so I’ll be as brief as I can.”

Billie’s professional tone had Jessica’s spine straightening. Irving looked suspicious and stony, as if nothing could make him move from his wife’s side.

“You are, by far, the best scrub nurse we have,” Billie said. “And that competition is fierce at Chastain.”

“Thank you, Dr. Sutton,” Jessica said, sounding touched.

“I’ve spoken with the chief nursing officer, as well as your direct supervisor. I know that they spoke with you last week about this.”

“They did,” Jessica said.

“They did?” Irving murmured to his wife.

“Yes,” she hissed back.

“You did an excellent job renegotiating your contract, and it clearly stipulates that you have control over your own schedule. You can choose your surgeries. I wasn’t aware of that,” Billie admitted. “I should have been.”

Jessica was blushing but looked pleased. The entire ED staff had edged closer, lingering around the central bay to eavesdrop while pretending to read through charts. A few patients weren’t even trying to pretend they weren’t fascinated by the conversation. “The thing is,” Billie said, pushing forward despite their audience, reminding herself that she thrived under pressure. “You’re a team player, Jessica. Not once during any of Bell’s leaves of absence did you take advantage of that clause in your contract. You go wherever you’re told, assist wherever you’re asked to assist.”

“Of course,” Jessica said, clearly flustered.

Irving reached out a hand and placed it on her back, a smile playing with his lips.

“That’s not an of course,” Billie said firmly and calmly. Her chin was high, face serious, as she looked at Jessica. “Most people would abuse that privilege. And you’re holding proof in your hands that my staff would take full advantage of any edge they thought they might have.”

Billie heard some stifled laughter but ignored it. Jessica bit her lip against a smile and glanced at her husband. Irving’s smile had broadened to a full, proud grin.

“You’ve earned the right to choose what surgeon you’re dedicated to going forward. Your supervisor and I are in full agreement,” Billie said. “We’ll stand behind your decision, and I’ll handle the conversations with the rest of the surgical staff. If anyone gives you trouble, or gets too pushy, tell me, and I’ll handle that, too.”

Billie cleared her throat, getting to the bad news. “I know that all of this happened very suddenly,” she continued. “So, your supervisor has bought you some time to make the decision. But I do need you to make it within the month, which I think she told you last week. I’m sorry we had to put a deadline on it—”

“No, no,” Jessica said, rushing to assure. “I understand, and it’s very generous.”

Billie allowed herself a small—still very professional—smile at the other woman. “But Jessica,” Billie said. “Do me one favor?”

Jessica’s brows lifted slightly.

“Make them work for it,” she said, with a nod at the flowers Jessica held.

She heard Conrad’s guffaw and tossed him a smile as she turned to go. Everyone scurried to look away, though she saw a few patients watching her with curious eyes.

“Thank you, Dr. Sutton,” Jessica called to Billie.

“Of course. Show’s over everyone,” Billie said as she strode back out of the emergency department.

~*~

Billie had known Leela was an artist for years. She had come across Leela’s sketchbook once back when she had been an intern and marveled over her talent before Leela had self-consciously shoved it back in her bag. But the wedding was beyond gorgeous, beyond anything Billie would have expected or could have imagined.

The ceremony took place outside in front of the famous fountain of the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. Gigi and Sammie—the ultimate flower girl duo once again—had both been covered with swirling mehndi designs from fingertips to elbows and threw magnolia petals as they danced down the path in matching red dresses with full tulle skirts.

Leela walked the aisle in a gold sari with an art deco inspired pattern with rhinestones scattered across the delicate fabric. Her blouse had cutouts at the shoulders and had jewels sewn into the pieces, heavy enough to make it drape where they wrapped around her upper arms. Devon had chosen—or, perhaps Leela had chosen for him— a gold and taupe kurta with red accenting that perfectly complemented the coloring of Leela’s sari.

Billie realized she might be biased, but she wasn’t sure she had ever seen a more beautiful bride. Nic, of course, but that had only been in photos—one of Billie’s biggest regrets. Leela practically glowed, and Billie was fairly certain Devon was crying during the vows.

Following the ceremony, the guests were allowed to wander through the gardens until the sunset cocktail hour. Sammie and Gigi had stuck to Billie’s side like glue, and she had walked them through most of the exhibits. Conrad had tagged along, fingers entwined with Billie’s as she patiently answered questions and looked up information on butterflies and flowers. Sammie had calmly taken everything in with her bright, quick gaze, and Gigi had flounced along beside her, stopping to twirl in her dress over and over.

“This is a fantastic wedding,” Billie murmured to Conrad, as their small group left one of the massive orchid exhibits.

“Devon and Leela know how to throw a party,” he murmured back.

The reception tent had been fully enclosed during the ceremony, and the flaps had been pulled back only once the catering team was ready to seat everyone for dinner. Gigi and Sammie had gasped loudly as they all stepped inside.

The far end of the tent opened directly into one of the Gardens’ hot houses, and a dancefloor was set in the middle, with all the tables lined around the perimeter. Sets of beautiful, gauzy red draperies came down from the ceiling, gathered around golden lanterns that hung from high above them and burnished everything in a warm glow.

“Do I pay them too much?” Kit muttered.

Billie and Conrad choked back laughter as Bell rolled his eyes. “Kit.”

“I’m kidding,” she insisted. “Mostly.”

At dinner, Billie, Gigi, and Conrad were seated at table number four, with Sammie, Kit, Randolph, Jake, Gregg, Irving, and Jessica. It was the perfect group. Billie wasn’t really in the mood for strangers. Not at Leela and Devon’s wedding. She had enough trouble making conversation with strangers on a normal day, let alone when she felt so emotional, warm, and fuzzy.

They spent most of dinner laughing, with Gigi and Sammie keeping them all entertained. Padma, A.J., Arjun, and Elijah were seated at the family table, and A.J. kept glancing over with longing in his eyes. Conrad waved at him once, and he had glared until Gigi turned to see who her father was waving at. Then A.J. cleared his face into a pleasant smile and waved back.

The girls, of course, had become restless once they were full. After a few minutes of fidgeting, Gregg had offered to walk them through the hot house, and the trio had disappeared.

In the quiet that descended on the table, Conrad’s hand slid under Billie’s hair to curl around the back of her neck, thumb stroking her skin. She let her eyes flutter shut for a moment and soaked in the feeling. When she opened them again, Jessica had switched chairs with her husband, leaving her to sit next to Billie.

“Dr. Sutton?” Jessica asked.

Billie turned to her with an easy smile. “You can call me Billie, Jessica, it’s fine.”

Obvious hesitation crossed the scrub nurse’s face, and Billie laughed softly. She knew the sound was light and happy, more so than it ever was at the hospital. But she didn’t care. It was an excellent night. Conrad’s fingers were warm against her skin, and Gigi was happy, and Leela and Devon were moon-eyed at their table for two in the center of it all, and it was one of those moments in life that were always so fleeting where it felt like absolutely nothing could ever go wrong again.

Billie gave Jessica a curious look. “You used to call me Billie all the time.”

“That was before,” Jessica insisted.

“Before what?”

“Before you were chief,” Jessica said, like this meant something.

Billie supposed it did, though hospital hierarchy rarely crossed her mind unless a surgeon came to her with a problem. She had been thrilled to make chief—especially so young, and especially after everything that had happened at Chastain. But she hadn’t thought it made anyone look at her any differently (other than because it gave her greater access to the purse strings).

Most especially Jessica, of all people, who had been the scrub nurse in Billie’s OR when she made the biggest mistake of her career that gave Conrad’s patient a stroke. The scrub nurse who had warned Billie to wait for Aronson, that something was off with the patient’s levels on the monitor. The same scrub nurse that Billie had ignored and snippily told she had everything under control—when Billie very much had not.

Sometimes it still amazed Billie that she and Jessica were even friendly. Jessica had as much right to hate Billie as Conrad had.

In other circumstances, Billie could have said all of that to Jessica. She never had and probably should have at some point. But they were at Leela and Devon’s wedding, so, instead, “We pre-date that,” was all Billie chose to say.

“True,” Jessica murmured, and for some reason her eyes flicked to Bell.

Billie followed the gaze and found Kit and Bell watching them. “I’m all ears on this,” Bell said.

“Same,” Kit said.

“What’s going on?” Billie asked, looking between the three of them.

“I was hoping to ask your advice,” Jessica said quickly, pulling Billie’s attention back to her.

“My advice on what?” Billie asked.

“On my decision.”

“Oh.” Billie straightened in her chair, and Conrad’s hand fell away as he leaned forward, elbows finding the table. “What about it?”

Jessica looked down at her folded hands, and Irving’s hand came over to cover his wife’s. “I wondered what you would do… if you were me?”

Billie’s brows rose, and she looked back at Bell. He shrugged and said, “She already has my advice.”

Billie nodded once and licked her lips. “Well, I think the first thing we have to acknowledge is that this decision isn’t final. Meaning, if you chose a surgeon and then decided you hated working with them, we could move you again. You’re not going to lose your value, Jessica. You’ll always have that leverage. For lack of a better phrase,” she murmured.

Jessica nodded, eyes studying Billie as she absorbed the words.

“The other piece of this is that you don’t have to choose to dedicate yourself to anyone,” Billie emphasized, and Jessica’s eyes dropped back to her hands. “You’ve already displayed the agility to move between specialties. If what you wanted to do was stay part of the rotation, then we would absolutely support that. If what you want is to move into a training position, or if you were interested in a management track, then we would make that happen. I hear you’re an amazing mentor to the scrub staff.”

Billie put a hand on the table and leaned forward to catch Jessica’s eye. “I don’t want you to think that your career will ever be determined by a surgeon. Any surgeon. You have many, many options. And none of them are going away.”

“Thank you,” Jessica said. Her eyes flicked to Bell again, then she pulled a hand free from Irving’s grip to stack on top of her husband’s.

“Beyond that, if you did choose…” Billie trailed off. She thought for a moment, all the faces of her surgical staff flipping through her mind like flash cards. “I don’t know, to be honest. We have so many talented surgeons. General will have the most varied cases, but Leela is young and inexperienced. She doesn’t have much pull yet in terms of shift hours. Trauma will have a good load with a lot of variety, but the hours are unpredictable.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Cardio is an exciting field, always evolving, but James mostly does small procedures. And a lot of them,” she said dryly. “He has twice the surgical load of any other surgeon on staff.”

“And brings in more money than God,” Kit added. “Bless him.”

“I’m trying to entice Jake back to lead our plastics team,” Billie said, with a sly glance at Bell’s stepson.

He looked down shyly. “You flatter me.”

“But so far no dice,” Billie admitted on a sigh. “And you’ll need to make a decision long before he returns.”

“If I return,” Jake said.

“Before he gets back,” Bell said. Kit smacked him on the shoulder, but Jake just chuckled.

Ignoring his wife’s very physical admonishment, Bell asked, “What about neuro?”

“Ah,” Billie said with a humorless smile. “Neuro is hard. Emotional. We see a lot of death. Sometimes the patients have to be awake, and we rely on the scrub nurses to keep them calm. We only cut when we have to—more so than any other specialty—but that means it’s almost always dire when we hit the OR. But it also means that it can be the most rewarding discipline.”

Jessica nodded slowly, hesitantly. “I know.”

Billie offered Jessica an understanding look. “And, back to cardiothoracic, A.J. is… well… A.J.,” Billie said with a shrug.

“No, thank you,” Jessica murmured. As the others stifled laughter, she added, “He’s wonderful. Outside the OR. Inside he’s… frustrating.”

“That was so very diplomatic,” Billie said, with approval. “Well done.”

Conrad laughed and slung an arm over her shoulders. He squeezed her close and kissed her hair before letting go.

“That covers most of our rockstars,” Billie said, slightly flustered from the public display of affection—as well as the sappy looks they were receiving from the rest of the table. “But, most importantly, you still have three weeks. Take it. There is no wrong decision here, which makes it harder.”

Jessica smiled, eyes studying Billie for a while. “Thanks, Dr. Sutton.”

“What is it?” Billie asked, curious at the searching look on Jessica’s face.

Billie followed Jessica’s eyes as they flew back to Kit and Bell, wondering what she was missing in this conversation. There was clearly some sort of subtext floating around that Billie wasn’t privy to.

But she was surprised to find the older couple watching Billie herself. Randolph was leaning forward, elbows on the table, fingers laced together, with a small, almost sad smile on his face. Kit had slipped an arm through his and was resting her chin on his shoulder, silent support.

“We can talk about it on Monday,” Jessica said quietly.

And Billie, always aware of and respectful of boundaries, nodded. “Whenever you’d like. My door is always open.”

~*~

Later—after the sun had set, and the music had started, and the tables had been cleared away quietly in the background—Billie tilted her head to the side, fingers fiddling with the delicate necklace she wore every day. Her eyes were glued to Devon and Leela where they swayed on the dancefloor, foreheads pressed together. Leela’s hands rested against Devon’s chest, and his were locked together at the small of her back.

That’s love, she thought, a soft smile on her lips.

Devon and Leela moved out of Billie’s line of sight, other couples filling in the gap. Irving and Jessica talked softly together. Kit and Bell were laughing—because they were always laughing—and Jake and Gregg were kissing gently. Even Padma and A.J. had each brought a twin to the dancefloor, swaying them gently to sleep. There were other couples, strangers, but Billie only had eyes for her friends.

Friends, she thought with a wistfulness that made her throat clench.

Billie had never had many friends. It had been a choice—one that she had believed for a very long time to be the best option. But even Billie had to admit that it had been a lonely one.

After the rape, she had pushed everyone away, erecting walls to keep herself safe through isolation. She had spent high school dedicating the majority of her time to studying, packing in as many AP and honors courses as she had been able to convince the guidance counselor to allow, desperate for a full ride. In her limited free time, she had also volunteered as a candy striper at the local community hospital as soon as she had been of legal age to do so—and had nearly been fired for her attitude within the week. Fortunately, the nurses had loved her because Billie had been efficient and capable and never said no to any task. She had proven herself invaluable. And, so, she had stayed all through high school.

She had, essentially, ensured she had been too busy for friends.

Over the years, after they had reconnected, whenever Nic had pushed Billie to open herself up to people, Billie had resisted, saying that one real, true friend was all she needed. Nic had always been enough. But the reality had been that the only person in the world Billie had trusted was Nicolette Nevin.

Until Conrad. But he was a whole other, complicated story with many a twist and false ending.

But, that night, she looked around a beautiful, warm, burnished red tent filled with people she loved and couldn’t finish counting all of her friends on two hands. She tried to blame Conrad, to tell herself that she was accepted because he had drawn her into the folds of his life. But that simply wasn’t true.

Kit had become one of Billie’s favorite people, thanks to her giant heart and butt-kicking swagger. They went for drinks at least once a week, just the two of them, to vent and dish and laugh. Billie and Kit had taken Gigi on a spa day a few weeks before. It had been one of the best days of Billie’s life. Hands down. Full stop.

Aside from Leela and Devon, Kit and Bell had become one of Billie and Conrad’s favorite couple friends, joining them for dinner a few times a month, sometimes with and sometimes without Gigi. They even dragged Jake, Gregg, and Sammie along if they were in town, which they were more and more often in recent times.

Billie and A.J. were solid. He had become like an old brother, despite the fact that she was technically his boss. Because when A.J. loved, he did it with the whole-hearted commitment he did everything he was passionate about, and, so, Billie had never doubted his support and fondness. A.J. even trusted her to watch Arjun and Elijah—and he had fired three nannies already over small transgressions like not using the candy thermometer to check the milk—having dubbed her Super Auntie Billie to the boys.

She and Jake had bonded over a mutual love of their little ladies, as well as jazz, Billie’s secret obsession with romantic comedies, and the difficult fight they had both faced as brilliant young surgeons of color in fields that were still aggressively and predominantly white. Gregg had come along for the ride in that friendship, but he and Billie texted every so often, usually when they had made a parenting blunder, or one of the girls had said something so embarrassing it was hilarious.

Billie had a feeling she might be winning Jessica over, too, if their recent conversations were any clue there. And Conrad had laughingly told Billie that Irving had been her loudest supporter in the emergency room, rooting for Billie and Conrad to face up to their connection long before Conrad had known that Billie had feelings for him.

Even she and Cade were finding common ground. And that presented its own challenges, but they were navigating—

Her thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched, blood curdling shriek that filled the tent: “Aunt Billie!”

Several people jumped or grabbed at their chests in Billie’s peripheral vision as she frantically spun in a circle, trying to find Gigi. She spotted her goddaughter standing with Sammie—who looked absolutely scandalized—off to one side of the tent. Billie was relieved to see that Gigi looked completely and totally fine and whole and unscathed.

Still, Billie hurried over, reaching Gigi and Sammie right as Conrad came up from the other direction. They met each other’s eyes—the last vestiges of panicking lingering in both pairs—just as they both reached for Gigi, who slid a hand into each of theirs. Billie resisted the urge to run her fingers over the little girl to look for damage, despite her eyes telling her that Gigi was fine.

“Sammie is going to be in another wedding,” Gigi said to her father and Billie without preamble, stressing every word like it was gospel.

Conrad’s lips thinned as he tried to smile at his daughter. “Bubble, what did we tell you about indoor voices?”

“But we’re outside,” Gigi said.

Technically, that was true, and Conrad floundered for a moment.

Billie took a swing. “Remember the checklist?”

“Of course,” Gigi said, sounding impatient. “Is there fire? Is there blood? Is it an emergency? This was really, really urgent.”

Sammie hid a giggle behind her hand.

“At least you thought it through,” Billie said, trying to give Conrad an encouraging look.

She’s trying, she said with her eyes.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. Uh-huh.

They both turned back at Gigi and Sammie as conversations resumed around them. “Another wedding,” Billie said to Sammie, mentally catching up. “That’s so exciting.”

Sammie grinned at them.

“She’s not even going to be a flower girl this time!”

“Inside voice, Bubble,” Conrad murmured.

Gigi’s brow furrowed as she looked at the tent again.

Billie asked, “Did they decide to make you a junior bridesmaid?”

Sammie and Gigi looked at her in awe. “You’ve heard of it?” Gigi asked.

Billie heard Conrad stifling a chuckle. “Of course,” she said, with the appropriate reverence. “It’s a really important job. Congratulations, Sammie.”

Sammie blushed, looking shyly at the ground.

“I wanna be a junior bridesmaid,” Gigi said, her voice dangerously close to a whine. Then she lit up and turned back to Sammie. “I bet your dress is going to be amazing. You’ll look so beautiful. Can we go?”

“We can’t invite ourselves to a wedding, sweetie,” Billie said.

Gigi’s face fell.

“I’ll send you pictures,” Sammie promised.

“Can we help her pick it out, Billie?” Gigi asked. “Please?”

For Devon and Leela’s wedding, Billie had been tasked with taking the girls shopping for another round of flower girl dresses. This time, both Kit and Leela had tagged along. All the women had agreed it was far more satisfying than buying dresses for themselves.

“Sweetie, she’s probably not going to get to pick it out this time,” Billie told Gigi gently. “Bridesmaid dresses are usually chosen by the bride.”

“But Aunt Leela came with us this time.” Gigi pouted. “And she was the bride. We still picked them.”

“Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, let’s not forget that this wedding isn’t over yet,” Conrad said, with faux sternness. “And your flower girl duties have not yet ended.”

The little girls giggled, and warmth pooled in Billie’s chest.

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get out on that dancefloor,” Conrad ordered.

The girls cheered and ran off. Their tulle skirts bounced around them, and the crowd parted to let them through.

“Well, that was easy,” Conrad said, watching them go.

“Seriously,” Billie said.

After a moment, Conrad asked, “Was that too easy?”

“Probably,” Billie admitted. “Gigi’s going to bring up those dresses again, I can feel it.”

“Who knew I would have a fashionista for a daughter,” Conrad muttered. “She’s going to need a bigger closet.”

“Says the guy who has more jewelry than I do,” Billie teased.

Conrad’s head whipped around to her. “I don’t have that many accessories,” he said on a laugh.

She smirked. “You have never met a leather cuff you didn’t like.”

“Hey.”

“Aunt Billie,” the DJ said over the speakers. “You are needed on the dancefloor.”

Titters of laughter spread through the crowd. Billie felt her cheeks heat, but she cleared her throat and looked out over the groups of dancers. She spotted Gigi and Sammie near the DJ booth. The girls waved, beckoning her to join them.

Before she could take a step, an arm slid around her waist. She leaned back against Conrad’s chest, and he pressed their cheeks together.

“You’re not coming?” she asked.

“You go ahead,” he said. “I need to talk to Kit.”

But he didn’t let go, and she felt her smile widen. “You know,” she murmured. “Gigi asked if she could spend the night at the hotel with Sammie.”

“Really?” Conrad murmured back. “That is a very interesting idea.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I’ll go talk to Jake,” Conrad said, kissing her cheek.

“I thought you needed to talk to Kit,” she pointed out.

“Priorities. Jake then Kit.”

~*~

A little over a week later, Billie stepped off the elevator and into the emergency department, looking around with a concerned frown. She had been paged, but there had been no details or patient information.

As usual, the ED was a flurry of activity. She saw Conrad’s blond head through the sliding glass door of one of the trauma bays. A.J. and James were both with him, likely still answering each other’s pages whenever they managed to intercept a summons, as they continued to compete for the small set of cases in which their expertise overlapped. Cade was in another bay, speaking softly to a patient. No one looked like they were waiting for her to arrive.

Billie narrowed her eyes as she looked around, unsure where she was supposed to go. Then a curtain flung back, and Irving walked towards the central desk, pulling off his gloves. Billie made a beeline for him.

“Hey,” she said, as they both reached the desk. “I was asked to come down.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Well, good morning to you, too,” he said, but he didn’t sound particularly bothered. “I don’t know who paged you. Let me check.” He started to type into one of the computers and frowned. “I don’t see anything about a neuro consult in here.”

“Sorry!” Billie heard behind them. She turned to see Jessica hurrying towards the desk.

“That was me,” Jessica said. “The page. Sorry.”

Billie turned to her as Irving gaped at his wife. “That’s all right. What can I do for you?”

“Everything okay?” Cade asked as she came out of one of the trauma bays and spotted Billie. Cade glanced around with a deep frown, clearly trying to figure out which of the patients needed a neurosurgeon. “Did we page you?”

“I did,” Jessica said.

“You did,” Cade repeated in surprise.

“I made my decision,” Jessica said.

“Already,” Billie said, surprised. “You still have two weeks.”

“I know,” Jessica said.

“Decision?” Cade asked. Then her face cleared. “Oh, about the surgeons.”

“You heard about that?” Irving asked. Then he shook his head. “Why am I surprised?”

“Everybody heard,” Cade said, grabbing a new chart out of the intake box. “At least three people told me about it.”

“Billie practically held up a boombox outside Jessica’s window,” Hundley added as she walked past.

Cade laughed lightly and flipped open the chart to scan it. In the quiet as Cade read and Hundley sauntered over to her next patient, Billie turned back to Jessica.

“Would you like to go somewhere private?”

“No,” Jessica said. “This is fine.”

From behind Billie, she heard, “Did I miss it?” and turned to find Bell and Kit walking into the department.

Billie’s jaw dropped open. She had known Bell felt especially close to Jessica, but she thought this was a bit unnecessary.

“I already know her decision,” he told Billie with a smile. “Funny thing is, she hadn’t thought it was an option. I told her it was.”

“You always have to take the credit,” Kit said, with a fond smile.

“Not always,” Bell said to her. “And hush. I’m listening.”

Kit snorted.

Billie frowned. “Didn’t think what was an option?”

One of the trauma bays slid open, drawing Billie’s eyes as Conrad, James, and A.J. filed out of the room. Conrad spotted the small crowd at the central desk and walked over with a hesitant expression.

“What’s going on, everybody?”

“Jessica made her decision,” Irving said. “And a small army of surgeons has descended on my ED.”

“Your ED?” Cade repeated, lightly but firmly.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Irving said, not sounding sorry at all. “I out tenure you.”

“Fair enough,” Cade said.

“I’m not sure that’s a verb,” Kit murmured to herself.

“I have no idea,” Billie said to Conrad, answering his original question. “Kit and Bell came out of nowhere.”

“We asked to be here when she told you,” Kit said.

“Told me what?” Billie asked, prompting everyone gently.

Jessica looked nervous. “I thought about what you said at the wedding. And I really appreciate all of your advice.”

“Happy to give it,” Billie said.

She could feel the entire ED watching them. Again. She could feel James and A.J. edging closer, and she suspected they were each trying to put themselves in Jessica’s line of sight.

“Do you remember two months ago?” Jessica asked suddenly. “You were debulking a tumor on an eight-year-old girl, and I scrubbed in with you.”

“Leilani Cartwright,” Billie said immediately. “Of course. That was a hard surgery.”

“But successful,” Jessica reminded her.

Billie smiled, feeling triumphant all over again. “Her prognosis is good,” Billie said. “I spoke with her oncologist last week. It looks like the radiation is shrinking what we had to leave behind.”

“That’s great,” Jessica said, in a rush. “But what I meant was… do you remember what we listened to?”

Billie’s smile turned rueful. “The Moana soundtrack.”

“For four hours,” Jessica said, pointedly.

Confused, Billie nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Because you had asked Leilani what her favorite songs were, and she said Moana.”

Billie blinked. “Studies show that some patients are still able to hear what’s happening around them, even with general anesthesia. We think it might be more prevalent in children because of how elastic their brains still are.”

“So, you always ask the patients what they want to listen to,” Jessica said.

“I didn’t know you did that,” James murmured.

“That’s smart,” A.J. said, thoughtful.

Billie looked around the crowd, confused. “If they can hear, I want it to be something they find comforting.”

Jessica nodded. “You’re the most brilliant surgeon we have on staff.”

“Hey now,” A.J. said.

“And you’re lovely to assist,” Jessica said to Billie, ignoring him. “And, as the chief, you’re able to scrub in on any surgery in the hospital that you want. You’re even required to during probationary periods or if we grant guest privileges to a surgeon.”

Billie was very aware that she was an incredibly intelligent person. And she felt very stupid in that moment for not realizing where Jessica had been going with all of this sooner. The looks exchanged with Bell while Billie had given her advice. The eagerness on Kit’s face. Irving’s supportive touches. It all made sense now.

“I want to work with a surgeon who cares enough to ask a patient what their favorite song is,” Jessica said sweetly. “Just in case.”

“I see,” Billie murmured. “And you’re sure?”

Jessica nodded. “If you’ll have me.”

“Like that was ever a question,” Billie said, brusque. “We’ll have to meet with your supervisor to make it official. But welcome to the team.”

James stepped forward with his lady-killer smile firmly in place. “Now Jessica—”

“It’s over, James,” Cade said, in her usual blunt way. “Let it go.”

James sighed, but his eyes danced as he nodded in concession at Billie. “I suppose the best surgeon won.”

Billie raised an eyebrow at him. She opened her mouth to remind him that Jessica’s career was not a competition. But A.J. stepped forward with a generous expression.

“I support this,” A.J. said, as if he hadn’t been hoping Jessica would choose him at all. “I think this is the best possible outcome.”

“As do I,” James said.

“Says the man who bought her a spa package,” A.J. muttered.

“Didn’t you offer to upgrade her car?” James asked.

The men exchanged tense looks. Then they both forced laughs as they turned back to Conrad, who watched them with an openly amused expression.

“About my patient—” A.J. began.

“Our patient,” James said smoothly.

“You two are enough to give aspirin a headache,” Conrad said. “I don’t know how Billie puts up with you.”

“You have no idea,” Billie said, dry.

Irving turned to Jessica. “He was going to upgrade our car?”

“Oh, Irving,” Jessica said, rolling her eyes. But, as the crowd wandered away, Jessica smiled excitedly. “I’m going to go add myself to your schedule.”

“Sounds good,” Billie said, but Jessica was already rushing away.

Kit and Bell followed as Billie strolled from the ED. “You really didn’t know?” Kit asked.

“I had no idea,” Billie admitted.

In her mind, Jessica still only saw Billie as the fifth-year resident who had destroyed someone’s life in her own arrogance. It had never occurred to her that Jessica would ever see past that, even with all the promotions and honors and accolades Billie had earned in the meantime.

Bell put a hand on Billie’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’re the best chief we’ve ever had here at Chastain,” he said. “I don’t know if I’ve ever said that to you.”

Billie’s chin came up as she shoved down the emotions. “Thank you, Randolph.”

Kit reached out and hugged Billie without a word. Then she slipped her arm through Bell’s and led him away.

Billie watched them go, sliding her hands into the pockets of her white coat. When someone touched the back of her arm just above the elbow, she knew without looking that it was Conrad.

“Congratulations,” he said, keeping his voice down in the busy hallway.

She didn’t know why he bothered. Everyone knew they were dating. Apparently, there had been a betting pool on it, even throughout his relationship with Cade. She thought that was a bit disrespectful, but mostly she was just glad A.J. hadn’t won the pot. He never would have let her hear the end of it.

“It’s nice,” Conrad said.

“What is?” she asked, finally looking at him.

“Seeing you get all this love.” Crinkles fanned out from the corners of his eyes. “You deserve all the love in the entire world.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” Billie said.

“What?” Conrad asked, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

She shrugged with a small smile, feeling peaceful inside. “Having friends.”

Something flashed across Conrad’s face, too quick for Billie to catch it. But his eyes darkened as he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her.

“Billie Damn Sutton,” he whispered.

She pulled back slightly to look at his face, laughing a little. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, and kissed her.

#the resident #billie sutton #fanfic #conrad hawkins #conrad x billie #billie x conrad #gigi hawkins #sammie wong #kit voss #randolph bell #kitbell #kit x randolph #jessica x irving

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Casual

Ranboo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“

Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.

Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.

I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey! Wh-...“

“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“

My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.

“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.

“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.

I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”

* * *

“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“

“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.

I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.

“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.

I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“

He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“

His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.

And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”

I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“

* * *

“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.

I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”

He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”

I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.

“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“

I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.

Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!

Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?

Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.

“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“

As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”

Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.

“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.

See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?

Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.

Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.

A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.

Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.

I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor. And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.

Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?

When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.

And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.

Damn do I wish I ran away now...

#ranboo #ranboo fanfiction #ranboo x you #ranboo fanfic #ranboo fluff #dream smp #ranboo imagine #ranboo x y/n #ranboo x reader #fic #fanfic #fanficiton #fandom #fluff #friends to lovers #x reader #request #requests open #reader

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ncitygirls · 3 years

Text

dance - jeno x f reader

fluff, smut, 2.1k

jeno knows it’s bad, but he can’t help but reminisce on how this all began. he likes to torture himself by reliving the first night over and over. it always starts with the drunken taunts from his teammates, sullied further by his dismissal. ‘no way,’ he’d said. ‘i can’t go there.’ he remembers seeing your roommates hyping you up, followed closely by your misguided steps. even after his earlier reluctance, he still regrets not beating you to the jump, his friends’ clearing their throats, trying to act natural as you approached their booth.

he hated the setting: a grotty sports bar a town over from his college campus. it sold stale, cheap beer, triple vodka sours and served well past three am. this may not sound like the typical start to a love story, but it was a start all the same.

‘do you wanna dance?’ you asked in a painfully small voice, your emboldened strut paling in complete contrast to your timid yet gleaming gaze. jeno still can’t say where he found the courage to agree, but agree he did, nodding behind his beer before following you up to the sticky floor. somewhere along the way you had taken his hand in yours, in fear of losing him in the sea of sweaty bodies. in the musty wave of noughties hits with tacky modern spins, jeno managed to lose himself anyway. he hadn’t a clue where to put his hands, his eyes searching yours as you giggled up at him, cooing at his bewilderment.

so you led. placing his hand on your exposed waist, your top riding up as it hugged the skin beneath your rib. he felt you shiver under his touch, his fingers clenching minutely at the feeling. ‘is this okay?’ he’d yelled, though it came through as more of a whisper under the music. you didn’t respond, instead reaching for his other hand, squeezing it over the denim on your hip. jeno was spinning. not from dancing, and not from the amount he’d drank. he knew it wasn’t down to that, nor the dizzying motion of the lights, the thickness of the air or the pounding of the music. jeno knew it was you. your chest pressed flush to his, your eyes boring into his. he didn’t know when you’d started swaying, his body leaning, moving in time with the music and the others on the floor. he could hear the songs changing, feel the bass beneath his feet. there wasn’t much he could do but enjoy it.

much like he still does. as he drags you close to him, the rosie organza pleated around your chest pressed right up to his satin lapel. his confidence then pales in comparison to now. it only took a few months to see the change, one you nurtured in all the ways a man like jeno needed. in soft assurances and gentle praise. in delicate touches and the softest embraces. in ardent exchanges and steamy quickies.

but the trouble began this past winter. well, technically well before. as a child, jeno had spent his summers visiting his cousin jaemin in his hometown from before he could remember. there the two had fortified a friendship, a real brotherhood that jeno never would have gotten to experience without being cast away to the country every solstice. it was there he met his cousin’s neighbour, mark lee. mark lee, a kind kid with wide eyes and a wider smile, was the kind of kid everyone looked up to. he embodied what jeno typically thought to be an older brother. and he was. to his step sister and cousins, to kids in his neighbourhood, to jeno’s cousin jaemin and eventually to jeno. it’s why, this christmas just gone, when mark had approached jeno, with giddy eyes and a giddier smile, to ask him to be one of his groomsmen - not just due to the refusal of a painfully introverted jaemin - but because of a genuine brotherhood formed between the two, jeno’s big hearted self could not refuse.. bringing us back to where the trouble began.

‘so, are you bringing her to the wedding?’ mark questioned suddenly, his arm pushing through the sleeve of his tux. ‘you definitely shou- it’s a bit tight at the elbow, can you see?’

jeno still curses jaemin for opting out of being a groomsman, leaving jeno to deal with the trivialities of wedding prep. not that he has a real problem with it all. it’s just a fitting, he thought as he walked in, his eyes landing on the black silk hanging off the changing room door. it wasn’t until he realised it was just he and mark - the rest of the groomsmen opting to come on a later date - that he was regretting the decision. because even though no one would admit it to his face, mark was a bit of a groomzilla. less for the usual reasons. he wasn’t rude, short or angered by little inconveniences. he was just a man of superstition, faith, and insurmountable dubiety. he wanted everything to be perfect. he wanted to do as much of his part as he could for his wedding day. jeno thinks his fiancée had been right to leave him the task of the guest list. mark easily knew more people, so was naturally inundated with acquaintances. it was a great idea, jeno thought.. until mark kept- on- pushing- ‘i’ll even relieve you of your duties early, let you go off with her-’

‘thanks man,’ the younger tried, watching the tailor pinch the jacket at his waist. ‘but really, i don’t think i will. i’ll just bring my mom or something.’

‘your mom’s already invited man, you know that.’ jeno huffed at that. of course she is. mark did take his duties seriously after all. ‘couldn’t have her going off on me like jaemin did-’

‘are you comparing my mom to jaemin?’

‘i’m just saying-’ mark paused to thank the attendant, slipping back out of his jacket as he walked up to jeno, squeezing his shoulder. ‘you’ve got nothing to be nervous about, jen. you’re like a brother to me. you should bring her, i’d love to meet her.’

jeno flinches just thinking about it, his spine straightening as mark turned to him fully. jeno manages a shrug, turning back to the mirror just for a second before deciding that, no. no, it wouldn’t be a good idea to introduce his girl to his best friend on his wedding day.

because the issue wasn’t that he wouldn’t invite you.

‘you met her at college, right?’

the issue was that he couldn’t.

‘maybe y/n knows her?’

the issue is that you’re already going.

‘you know what my sister’s like, she gets on with everyone.’

“jen?” you pant, his name falling off your tongue as he bounces you quickly in his lap. “come back to me.” he smiles at your sweet call, your teeth catching his lip between them before slipping your tongue into his mouth.

the ceremony starts in ten minutes, though guests are still pouring into the church. it’s what actually convinced him. that and you, your manicured hand stuffing your damp panties into the pocket of his fitted tux. it had been his undoing, your sweeping frame gliding into a small side door a few feet from the altar.

the clock is ticking but you pay it no mind, your hips halting their rise and fall as you dig your heels into the masoned floor, grinding your hips back and forth as you ride him. you feel his nails dig painfully into your skin, his tongue wrapping around yours, swallowing your gasps as his other hand gathers your dress, the layers of delicate organza billowing over his knee. when your nails find his nape, careful not to mess up his perfectly styled do, you suck on his ear lobe, forcing him to thrust up into you.

“fuck-”

“shh!” you hiss, rushing to stuff the same panties you gifted him in his mouth. you hear his muffled groans, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks the essence of you onto his waiting tongue. he feels you clench harder around him, his eyes smiling in place of his occupied lips. he lifts a brow when your rocking falters, your eyes darting around his perfect face, incapable of taking in anything but him and how he makes you feel. there’s a question in his gaze, forcing your head to bob. “yeah- i’m close-”

he abandons your dress then, letting the material pool around you two as he presses his palm to your neck, bringing your mouth to his. it’s a quick and steep descent to your release, your thighs burning as he slams you up and down on his cock, your skin clapping against his as he abandons all reason. he’s kept it quiet for so long, at times he thinks it might consume him from the inside out, all this love he has for you. all jeno really wants is to scream it out from the highest mountain top, tattoo it to his forehead, paint it on the fucking moon. hell, he would pay anyone to listen. he didn’t care who. he’d tell anyone who’d listen that he, lee jeno, was in love with y/n y/l/n.

“i love you too,” you almost cry, jaw unhinged as you feel the effects of his thrusts and affection rip through you. it spreads through you like wildfire, setting every nerve in you alight before it finally consumes him. your heat pumps and pushes him past his release, his heavy load pouring out into you. you milk him through it, your temple pressed to the crown of his head.

it’s the church bells that rip you apart, your whole body cringing as realisation hits. you cringe further as his flushed face fills your vision, his hands gathering your dress again before further staining your panties as he wipes between your legs. “don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like it’s worse for you than it is for me.” you’re about to ask how when he moves away from you, closing his eyes as he wraps it up before shoving it back in his pocket. “i said don’t.”

“fine, i won’t-” your surrender is cut short when knuckles strike the door three times, jaemin’s sign to wrap it up. “shit, let’s go-” you try to leave but can’t. because suddenly he’s stopping you, his warm hand loosely wrapped around your wrist.

“let’s tell him.”

“tell who what-”

“mark.” jeno used to hate acknowledging the striking similarities between you and your step brother. much like the unwon battle of the chicken and the egg: which came first? which of you taught the other that when your eyes enlarge, rounding into porcelain saucers, two full moons nearly eclipsing him, that he’d give you anything?

“today?” when he nods, you want to laugh. but he looks so confident. so sure. “jen, are you sure?”

“i am,” his affirmation makes your heart swell, even before he continues. “i’m sure about you.”

he knows where your uncertainties lie. but you affirm it too. “i’m sure about you too.” you both seem to forget the wedding in that moment, both neglecting the importance of your bridal party roles in favour of basking in one another for even a second longer. “only if you save me a dance?”

“always.” so much so, you don’t register the sound of the confessional door swinging open when jeno leans in to kiss to your forehead, his bitten lips pressing to the skin as his eyes land on a pair not too dissimilar to the ones he’d just poured his heart out to.

mark seems to short circuit for a second that seems to last hours. “mom’s looking for you,” he announces, spluttering around the words as you immediately grab jeno by the hand and drag him out the confessional. you both duck your heads as you shuffle past jaemin, who looks beyond pissed you didn’t heed his earlier warning.

when you both disappear, your brother turns on jaemin, eyes wide as full moons. “you knew!” it only angers him more when jaemin nods, unflinching when mark starts slapping his arm. “he told you and you didn’t tell me?”

“nuh-uh,” the younger defends, straightening out the groom’s lapel as he reverently shuts the confessional door. “i figured it out.” mark looks bewildered at the notion it had been so obvious. jaemin has to remind himself it’s mark’s day and not to be too harsh. “come on, hyung. he wouldn’t tell us her name, wouldn’t let us meet her.” mark still looks stunned. “don’t get me started on how many times they pulled this shit last christmas-”

and to think. it all started with a dance.

#jeno #nct jeno #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jeno fluff #jeno smut #nct au #ncitygirls

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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

Text

BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 3/3 [COMPLETED]

collection masterlist

one two three | Bloom Masterlist

“You up for it?”

You were sitting at your usual spot at Maki’s. It was still quite early so the pub wasn’t as crowded as it usually is, and it was a weekday. You were there to meet Sukuna but the owner suddenly started chatting you up like she usually does, beating around the bush for a bit before she finally asked you a favor. Apparently, they’re under-staffed and is in need of another waitress but hiring a new one was out of the question since it was a temporary post, just until the person who really works for her recovers from a broken ankle.

“It’s just from four in the afternoon to eight on weekdays, and since you’re usually hanging around here during those times, I thought of asking you. We’re just really short of hands for the next week,” she said, flashing you a rueful smile. “I asked Ieiri but she’s in the middle of her internship.”

Maki had been there for you before, talking to you when you had issues you couldn’t share with your friends and always giving you free non-alcoholic drinks during your exams, and you didn’t see anything wrong with helping her out for once. You’ll earn from it, too. “Sure. When do I begin?”

She clapped her hands excitedly which took you aback. She’s always so tough, barking orders here and there or putting rowdy customers in their proper places, that you didn’t really expect her to be all giggly and excited all of a sudden. “You’ll do it?”

“Yeah, why not?”

She hugged you then. “Oh my god, Y/N. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You waved her aside, chuckling. “It’s fine. It’s for a week anyway. No big deal.”

She sighed in relief. “You don’t know how much weight you’ve taken off my shoulders, so it is a big deal. Okay for you to start on Monday?”

You nodded.

“I’m giving you all the cherry blossom tea smoothie you want.” She grinned cheekily at you then. “And speaking of cherry blossoms, I noticed you and Sukuna coming here together. Are you together now?”

You felt your face heating up at the mention of the man's name but you shook your head. "Not yet."

"Yet?"

You chuckled awkwardly. "We're working it out, I guess. We're not exclusively dating though and he isn't my boyfriend..." You felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. It's the first time you're saying it out loud, what Sukuna isn't to you, and you had to admit the notion was kinda disappointing. But the problem was with you. "Yeah...just that."

"He likes you though. I see the way he looks at you." Maki smiled knowingly at you. "Does this have something to do with your no dating policy? It's ridiculous if you ask me. Sukuna is a good man."

Ah, straightforward as always. "I know that. That's why I'm letting him have a go at changing my mind."

"And is he successful so far?"

"He's almost there." You frowned then, catching her comment about him. "You seem to know him well."

"We go way back," Maki explained. "My old man still owns the pub when he was a student and he came here all the time listening to me and that old geezer fight."

"Oh. That must have been a sight."

"Plus he's friends with my cousin, Toji."

You tilted your head in question. Sukuna never really talked about his friends, and he has never introduced you to any of them. It’s the first time you’re hearing about that side of him. “Really? What was he like back then?”

Maki snorted. “He was an idiot who had too much time in his hands. He’s smart, but had a penchant for mischief. I mean, I guess you already figured that out just looking at him. Nobody really thought he would end up to be this big-shot architect.”

You laughed. “Really?”

“Toji’s influence, I guess. That one’s a bigger idiot.” She looked deep in thought for a moment then said, “Why his wife chose him instead of Sukuna is a puzzle.”

You were confused. You did not know what she was talking exactly, and why her cousin’s wife should have chosen Sukuna was beyond you. For some reason, you didn’t have a good feeling about it, then you remembered what he told you before about dating just one person.

Could it be… “No…” You didn’t even realize you said that out loud until Maki held onto your hand, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry. I said too much.”

“Well, don’t stop now,” you found yourself saying, unable to help it. “Is the situation what I think it is? Your cousin’s wife…He told me before that he only ever steadily dated one girl. Is it…?”

Maki nodded, grimacing. “They cheated on him six years ago.”

“So, he lost his girlfriend and best friend?” You felt your heart break at the thought. You might not have known him back then, but you couldn’t help but feel bad on his behalf.

“Yes. I’m not saying it’s his fault, but he’s hardly ever there since he was busy.”

“It’s not enough grounds for them to do that!” you stated loudly, feeling genuinely hurt for him. Damn, if he dated just one woman ever and never had a relationship again before you – for six years – then that spoke volumes of how much it affected him afterwards. You caught yourself and flashed Maki an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“Understandable.” She sighed. “He went overseas and didn’t come back until just two years ago. Guess why he came back.”

“Why?”

“To attend their wedding.”

You didn’t know what was more messed up, but you also know Sukuna to be a genuinely good person. If he disappeared for that long only to come back to attend his best friend and ex’s wedding, then it only meant he totally forgave them. If he was giving another relationship a chance, particularly with you, then it also meant he has healed. How he could be so caring and affectionate towards you despite what he went through astonished you, but maybe that’s just how he really was as a person.

“Are they okay now?”

“Yes.” She laughed slightly then. “You should see how he dotes on Toji’s son.”

Maki ruffled your hair, seeing how you’ve reacted. “Just one piece of unsolicited advice, Y/N. If you decide to be with him, be certain about it and don’t ever hurt him.”

You only nodded, taking her words to heart. She was right. Just as you were afraid to be left alone, nobody deserves to be hurt like that. You wanted to be angry at the fact that his own best friend did that to him but at the same time, you were proud of him for coming out of it while maintaining a good view about the whole concept of relationships and perhaps love. It radiated in the way he treated you, and all the effort he is putting into making things work despite your hesitations.

He arrived a few moments later, showing you that crooked smile of his. You both had one beer, and over that, he asked about your day and he told you about yours. When you were finished with your drinks, he said, “Mind going out for a drive? I wanted to tell you something.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t meet his eyes after what Maki told you, and several times, he asked if you were okay to which you responded affirmatively, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

Sukuna took you to the cliffs just around the city limits, parking his car a few yards from the edge enough to have a good view of the sea of lights below. When he killed the engine, you disembarked from his Jeep, walking closer to the edge when you felt his hand on your arm.

“Not too close to the edge,” he said, looking at you with concern written all over his face, but before he could ask what was bothering you, you said, “You were going to tell me something.”

At that, he sighed as if in long-suffering. “Yes, that.” He looked at you seriously as if he was going to tell you something grave only to end up saying, “I’m going to be away for two weeks starting Monday. I’m going to London.”

Momentarily forgetting about your conversation with Maki, you blinked, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “Why did you have to look like you’re about to tell me you’re going to be executed or something? Jesus, Sukuna.” You laughed despite yourself.

“Don’t laugh. I’m annoyed.” He pouted. “Aren’t you sad? Two weeks is a long time. I won’t get to see you, and I have to check for time zones if I want to talk to you over the phone.”

You held his hand, twining your fingers with his before raising it to plant a kiss on his knuckles. “I will miss you, but you don’t have to be so upset about it. I’ll be right here when you come back. Stop being all dramatic.”

“I’m not!”

“You’re funny.”

He rolled his eyes, but then said, “So, before that, I was planning to take you to meet my best friend and his wife on Saturday. I’ve been telling them about you…”

The rest of his words faded, the only thought registering in your head was how he mentioned his best friend and his wife. You were going to meet them. You couldn’t say no to that given that they seem to play integral parts in his life despite what happened. “Okay.”

“You’re gonna love their little boy,” he said excitedly.

“Sure…”

“But really, Y/N? You won’t have a whirlwind romance with some college brat while I’m away?”

You let go of his hand, stepping back. You didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. Not when he was speaking from experience. “What do you take me for?!” The words came out a little harsher than you intended, the resentment you felt for his previous relationship resurfacing.

He arched a brow at you, puzzled at your outburst. “Y/N, I was kidding.”

Not able to hold back anymore, you turned away from him as tears started flooding your vision. You didn’t even know why you were crying over the whole thing, and you just felt like an idiot as you faced him again, frantically drying your tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He looked alarmed as he held onto both of your hands, stopping you from wiping harshly at your face. “Why are you crying? Is it because of what I said?”

You shook your head. “No…no. Can I hug you though?” you asked and he almost laughed as he himself drew you closer, wrapping his arms around you. “You never have to ask.”

You did the same, holding onto him tightly, hoping it was enough for you to get rid of any feeling of hurt left in him if there was any to begin with; that it was enough for him to be at ease where you were concerned when he goes away. Still, you wanted to make sure. You stayed like that until you’ve calmed down, thinking you were doing it more for yourself than for him.

“What brought this on?”

“You won’t get mad?” you asked between hiccups, looking up at him.

“Why would I?”

“Promise me first. I just don’t want to hide anything from you and it’s been bothering me.”

“Okay. I promise.” As if to emphasize his words, he pecked you on the tip of your nose. “Now what is bothering you?”

“Since you mentioned your best friend,” you began, “Toji, right?”

He eyed you, nonplussed. “How did you know?”

“Maki told me…” You started tearing up again. “She-she told me w-what happened. Everything…so I know…Please don’t get mad.”

He clucked his tongue. “That woman. Seriously.”

“I’m glad she told me and I’m sorry if I pried, but I can’t…”

“Is that why you’re crying?”

“Y-yes.”

“Why?”

“Because they hurt you.”

His expressions softened. “Silly.”

You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around him. “It’s not silly. Nobody deserves that, least of all you. You’re always so good to me, and I can’t imagine anybody doing that to you, least of all your best friend.”

Sukuna’s hug tightened a tad, placing his chin on top of your head. “No sense crying about it anymore, Y/N. I’ve forgiven and forgotten. It wasn’t their fault if they felt that way when I went away. They found common ground, I guess. Toji thought he was losing his best friend and she felt the same way.”

“Okay.”

“If it isn’t too much to ask, I want you to get to know them, too, just like I want to be close to Satoru, Suguru and Ieiri. They’re important to me.”

“Okay.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes.” You met his gaze. “If they’re important to you, then I will do that for you and meet them.”

He wiped away your tears then. “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” you mumbled, breathing in deeply. “Sorry you had to see me like this.”

“You don’t have to hide anything from me.” He shrugged then, snickering. “Maki’s timing sure is impeccable.”

And so, Saturday came and you held onto Sukuna’s hand as he helped you out of the Jeep after parking in front of a two-story house with pale yellow walls and white shutters. Before it was a small, well-tended yard surrounded with white picket fences, very much like the house you grew up in under the care of your grandfather. A small, plastic slide and swing set was placed on the grass along with a tiny bike and some toys in the sandbox.

“You okay?” he asked, interrupting your reverie. When you nodded, he said, “You’re not gonna cry, are you?” making you smack him on the arm. “Ow?”

“Serves you right.”

Just then, the door opened revealing this couple you assumed to be the Fushiguros. They looked good together, both with raven hair with their equally dark-haired little boy who looked about eighteen months old, all chubby cheeks and pudgy cuteness.

Toji was this big, hulking man with a vertical scar on the right side of his mouth which oddly added to his charm instead of marring his handsome face. He was carrying his little boy in his muscular arms, taking the edge off his tough looks. He was the first one to approach.

"Hi. Y/N, right?"

"Yes, hi." You shook his hand, smiling genuinely despite your previous notions regarding him and his wife who also stepped forward, taking your hands in hers. She was beautiful, too, and she gave you this feeling of coming home with her bright eyes and kind smile. You couldn’t blame Toji for falling for her, then again, Sukuna used to be in love with her, too.

"You're so pretty!" she said as a way of greeting. "I'm Mirai. It's nice to meet you."

Toji glanced at Sukuna, the gesture injected with meaning. "It's nice to finally meet you. Typically, he's quiet, but he won't shut up about you."

"Shut up," Sukuna muttered.

"It's nice to meet you both." You chuckled. "He isn't quiet around me either." Then your eyes shifted to their kid. You weren't exactly enamored with the idea of children, but you understood what Sukuna meant. "Hi, little angel," you couldn't help but say to the boy who was looking at you with wide, sparkly eyes framed with long lashes. "Your son is lovely."

"Thank you," Mirai returned happily, watching her son reaching for you. "Aww, Megumi likes you."

"Megumi," you repeated. "Blessing?"

"Yes," Toji said proudly and you gathered from his statement that he named the baby.

You looked towards Sukuna as if for assurance as you reached out. "May I hold him?"

"Sure." Toji handed Megumi to you and you followed after them as they led you and Sukuna into their home, marveling at how well-behaved he was, just leaning against your chest and sucking on his thumb, all warm and smelling like baby powder and everything that reminded you of happiness.

The two men went to the living room to catch up while you went to the kitchen with Mirai who was curiously asking you one thing after the other.

"Sukuna told us you're a student. What are you studying?" she asked as she stirred something in a pot.

"Comprehensive literature," you answered, untangling Megumi's hand from your hair.

"Are you sure you're okay carrying Megumi?" Mirai threw you a rueful smile.

You nodded, beaming warmly at the child. "I don't mind. He's so adorable."

Mirai smiled lovingly at her son. "Isn't he? I was so happy when I first had him and saw how much he looked like his dad."

"Yeah, he's like a mini version of Toji. He has your eyes though."

“Thank you.” She grinned. "So, how long have you known Sukuna?"

"Just almost half a year. Around that."

"Guy's whipped for you, Y/N."

"I heard that!" Sukuna called out from the living room. He suddenly entered the kitchen, plucking Megumi off your arms saying, "My turn. How's my favorite boy?"

You just snickered, your thoughts elsewhere. It got you wondering if you would even have met Sukuna if things didn't turn out the way they have. You were picturing Sukuna standing beside Mirai instead of Toji but you just couldn't and it got you contemplating that maybe things ended up the way they did because that's what's meant to be.

As opposed to your resentment to what they did to him, you were now glad, perhaps even thankful and more understanding of Sukuna's reasons for letting things go and remaining friends with them. Because if those things didn't happen, you won't have him. Because if they didn't turn out that way, you wouldn't be watching him being all silly and adorable with Megumi, giving you a picture of what kind of father he would be when he did have kids. Because then, you wouldn't be considering the possibility of a future with anyone…with him.

Then you froze as your feelings for him became clearer. Because why else would you be spending all your time with him, being close to him and getting to know him? Why were you so keen on making sure he was happy? Why were you hurting on his behalf? Why was the world suddenly a better place despite the fact that you're supposedly alone?

It was simple. You're in love with him.

"Y/N?" you heard his deep voice resonating from inside your head then louder as your vision began to focus. He was standing in front of you with Megumi in his arms.

"Huh?"

"You okay? You were spacing out."

"Just thinking." You bit your lower lip, looking apologetic.

"Getting lost in your own world again, I see?" he teased.

"Getting lost in yours is more like it."

He and Miriai looked at you at the same time, the latter giggling pretty much like Ieiri whenever you told her about Sukuna. "You two are so cute."

You brushed the comment off, approaching her. "How can I help?"

You set the table with Toji's help, listening to him talk about Megumi and Mirai with such profound fondness and pride. Just like Sukuna, his appearance was an irony to his funny and soft personality it was disconcerting.

"It's great to have guests over. We rarely do this but Sukuna comes here every Saturday, and well, he isn't a guest anymore," Mirai said as she fed Megumi.

"Thanks for having me then," you replied, still fixated on their kid who was babbling about with his mouth full while he repeatedly knocked a plastic spoon on his high chair.

The conversation was light, circling on their old days, but you knew they were trying to skirt around the ugly things. Mirai regaled you of how Toji got the scar on his mouth. Turns out he and Sukuna were street racers at some point. "Easy cash," as the former had put it. "I mean who wants a part time job if you earn thousands a night?"

"So, what do you plan to become after you graduate?" she asked you again.

"A writer, maybe?"

At that, Sukuna started telling them about your date at the fancy restaurant and how you pretty much nailed the story of the lone old woman who gave you wine. "She's amazing like that," he said fondly, absently patting you on your thigh.

"I'm sure Y/N here finds you impressive, too," Toji teased. "Right, Y/N?"

"Yeah, he smells awfully great it's making my thoughts incoherent," you sallied, "But jokes aside..." You let your voice trail off on purpose, gauging his reaction.

"What?" he prompted.

"That's for me to know," you finally stated, making the couple laugh.

"No fair!"

After lunch, you helped Mirai clean up. Megumi was asleep in his crib after his meal and the guys stood by the backdoor, enjoying some beer. You dried the plates quietly while she washed and told you about Toji.

"It's like raising two kids, really," she told you. "He doesn't pick up after himself and our Megumi is more considerate than he is."

"But you love him," you teased.

"With all that I am." Her eyes strayed to Sukuna then. "Cherish him. Don't let that one get away."

At her words, you felt the same hurt you did when you first learned what the real deal was with them from Maki. You blood boiled out of the blue as thoughts started racing in your head a hundred miles per second. How dare she say that to you when she herself let him go? How dare she hurt him like that and yet keep him as a friend?

The sound of something breaking brought you out of your trance, and you realized the plate you were wiping had fallen onto the floor. But your attention was on her, your steely eyes hard and intense as you said, "You're the last person I expect to be telling me such things."

"I..."

You stepped away from her only to be met by Sukuna's disappointed expression, but you ignored that as well as you turned away. "Excuse me,” you said, bowing slightly as you walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, grabbing your bag before walking out of the house.

The crisp autumn air blew coldly against you, ruffling your hair and your dress as you stood there, not really knowing where to go or what to do. Suddenly, you felt stupid for saying something like that to Mirai when she had been nothing but nice towards you, her and Toji. You also liked their son. And judging by how Sukuna looked at you, you had this niggling feeling that you've ruined it all, eating at you from the inside out.

Just then, the door opened and closed behind you. You didn't have to turn around to know it was Sukuna who followed you out. You've grown so accustomed to his presence that at times, he only had to look at you and you already understand what he wants to convey.

"Y/N, sweetheart, what's going on?" he asked, trying hard to keep the edge off his tone.

You didn't turn to face him, afraid of what you will see. "You heard what I said. Do I really have to explain?"

He walked around you, grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you slightly. "I thought we're over this. I thought I already explained this to you."

That doesn't cut it, you thought but opted not to say it. He might have told you that he has forgiven and forgotten, and although you weren't involved in it, you still felt displeasure whenever you remembered it. It wasn't as if Mirai and Toji did you wrong, and it wasn't as if you had the right to say shit but she didn't have the right to tell you anything either knowing to herself what she had done. You didn't want to hear anything from her about what you ought to do and decide where Sukuna was concerned. It just didn't sit right with you.

"I know. I'm wrong. I get it," you snapped, shrugging his hands off you. "I wanna go home." You started walking away from him, but you stopped when he said, "What is wrong with you?"

You turned back, breath snagging as you let out a mirthless chuckle. "What is wrong with me?" you repeated, your voice coming out soft but with a bitter edge to it. "I know I am wrong for blurting out the things I did, and I am sorry."

"Y/N –"

"But don't strip me of my right to be angry when Mirai tells me to cherish you and not let you go as if she has any right to do it," you cut him off. "I didn't have the right to call her out on her transgressions to you, but don't tell me I can't cry or be mad at the fact that you had to go through all that because I care too damn much for you!"

Your eyes started to fill with tears as you regarded him, seeing the world come alive with blossoms dancing in the wind while in reality, the world was at its last legs, leaves falling all around you. Whenever you looked at him, you felt like everything was flourishing, filling your existence with beautiful things in an abundance of colors. "I'm so in love with you that I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt. I hate it when I know you're tired but you still smile for me anyway. I hate it when you look disappointed whenever I hesitate and couldn't make up my mind."

"I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. I was being a jerk, but that's how much I love you. I love you, Sukuna, more than I can possibly tell you. I can't pretend I don't."

"Say that again," he murmured.

"What?" you demanded gruffly, too caught up in your emotions to comprehend.

"You said you love me. Say it again." Now he looked like he was about to cry, eyes glistening even as he smiled wide with joy, drawing nearer and taking your hand in his.

You sighed in relief, feeling your chest loosen up. It felt great saying it out loud. Beyond just great. "I love you."

The moment you let go of the words, you were wrapped up in his warmth, his arms tight around you while you listened to the thundering beats of his heart. He held you at arm's length, looked deep into your eyes as he cupped your face and leaned in to claim your lips in a brief kiss. Spring has come in the middle of autumn, filling your senses and making you feel like you could fly. He held you in place, eyes closed as he touched his forehead to yours, letting out a shaky laugh.

"Do you mean that?" He opened his eyes slowly and you were lost in their depths as you nodded. "Yes."

"You haven't asked, but I happen to be just as in love with you if not more."

"I already knew that. How can I not when you show me every day? It's comforting to hear you say it out loud though." You smirked at him. "You know, when you don't think I'm asleep."

He stiffened against you. "You heard that?"

"God, it was so hard to keep my eyes closed and stop myself from reacting when you told me you're in love with me."

He clucked his tongue. "You waited this long to respond to me?"

"I told you I didn't wanna give it to you half-assed. I’m giving you my heart just as I want yours, and if you’re ready to entrust it wholly to me, I can’t just reciprocate with pieces of mine."

“You had it since the first day we met. I didn’t have to see everything else to know you’re the one who owns it.” Sukuna kissed you on the forehead, hugging you to him and just standing there with you, watching cars pass by the road, reveling in his proximity and his warmth. You didn’t need much of anything if you had him.

But then you broke out of his hold, realizing the mess you’ve made.

"What is it?"

"I have to apologize to our hosts. Stay here," you stated, walking back to the house to find the couple in the living room, standing there as if they were expecting you to come back. Without hesitation, you bowed before them. "I sincerely apologize for what I said. I should not have said that to you, Mirai. And it isn't my intention to indirectly hurt you, too, Toji. I'm sorry."

"What is this girl saying?" you heard Mirai say as she approached you and hugged you tight. "You silly girl. We deserve that and we don't deserve Sukuna. Everyone just gave us a free pass, and we were glad you were brave enough to say it to us like that. You have nothing to apologize for."

"Still..."

Toji shook his head. "No, Y/N. Thank you. For loving Sukuna and for giving us the chance to finally forgive ourselves, too."

At that, you smiled, nodding in understanding.

When it was time to leave, Megumi woke up and you had the chance to say goodbye to him, too, holding onto him until you had to get out the door.

"Visit us anytime, Y/N," Mirai said, winking. "Sukuna doesn't have to be with you."

"So, you're throwing me away cause you have Y/N now? Some friends you are," he sniped, causing another round of easy laughter.

"I'll come by soon," you promised, pecking Megumi on the cheek. "See you, angel."

***

"So, you're officially together now?" Suguru asked, helping you pack for the trip to the mountains Sukuna had planned, scheduled immediately after his return.

"Two weeks ago, but he had to go to London," you said, and in the next second, Ieiri and Satoru both brought out their wallets, handing bills to Suguru.

"I knew there was something different when he drove you home that afternoon."

"I can't believe you three are betting over my relationship with Sukuna," you muttered, zipping up your small luggage.

Suguru won fair and square though. He had been right to ask from the start when he walked in on you and Sukuna making out on the porch when the latter dropped you off. The drive then was quiet but you had the shut the guy up for teasing you about that "one hell of a confession," as he had put it. But he immediately took control, shoving you against the wall beside the door and kissing you stupid.

"What did I say about raising her on my own?" Suguru gloated, slinging an arm over your shoulder much to the annoyance of your supposed two other parents.

Satoru scoffed. "I was the one who did the hardest job of interrogating him the first time he came and brought our little girl dead drunk!"

"Yeah, he said you're intimidating," you told him, chuckling, and he positively glowed until you said, "But he said you apologized afterwards so..."

Suguru and Ieiri laughed hard at him.

"On a more serious note, Sukuna isn't gonna be as lucky the moment you get hurt, Y/N," Satoru stated calmly and the other two nodded in agreement. "Just putting it out there."

You would do the same for them, too, so you also agreed. "And if I'm the one causing him shit?"

"That's on him, too," Suguru said, ruffling your hair. "You're our princess, Y/N. It doesn't matter who's right or wrong when the time comes. You'll probably get an earful from us, too, cause we like the guy, but you will always have us first."

You clucked you tongue. "You're all being dramatic, but thanks. Much appreciated."

"It's the first time you're going steady with anyone. We're just making sure we've covered all the bases," Ieiri stated.

"Yeah, and before we forget..." Satoru took something out from under your bed, handing it to you.

You eagerly looked into the bag, thinking it was a present but you wanted to throw it at his face the moment you found out what it was.

"I got the bigger sizes cause Sukuna looks loaded in that department. Special edition, ultra-thin in – wait for it – mixed berry flavor." He winked. "Wrap it before you tap it."

"Ha ha, Satoru. You're really funny." You motioned to hit him, but laughed with him nonetheless as you rummaged through the bag. "Where the hell did you even get these?"

"Ordered them in from Amsterdam. You're welcome, princess."

"You're fucking weird for handing me rubbers, but thanks, dad." You handed the bag back to him. "You're giving them to Sukuna yourself though."

"Fine!"

And that he did when Sukuna arrived to come pick you up, strictly telling the man to open it in private much to the latter's confusion. Still, he accepted graciously.

"Don't open that thing," you said the moment you were in his car.

"That makes me want to open it now," he said.

You clucked you tongue, and shook your head. "Do that when I'm not looking." You tilted your head to have a better look at him, reaching over to make him face you. You frowned at the dark circles under his eyes. "What have you been doing in London?"

"Not sleeping enough is one of them, and I'm jetlagged." He took your hand in his and started planting butterfly kisses on your fingers. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." You cupped the side of his face and leaned over, pecking him on the lips. "You're going to sleep the moment we get to our destination."

"But –"

"No buts." You took the key off the ignition. "And I'm driving." You got out of the car, rounding it to the driver's side, opening the door. "Scoot."

Sukuna grinned at you. "Is being bossed around what it entails to be your boyfriend, sweetheart?" he asked, swinging his legs towards the door.

You moved closer, standing between his legs. "And if I say yes? Do you want out?" you asked, flashing him a sultry smile as you drew closer to him, your breaths mingling.

"I can't say I don't like it." He kissed you, deeper than the peck you gave him earlier.

"It's safer if I drive," you spoke against his lips. "Move."

"Just this once," he acceded, moving towards the passenger side while you climbed behind the wheel, gunning the car out of the property. But opposite to his words, he was asleep not an hour into the drive.

You never really realized how long two weeks could be until you had to wait for Sukuna to come back safe and sound. Though your time had been occupied by your studies and every other thing you did, you were always distracted by your phone, waiting for his messages and calls that you had to find yet another distraction in the form of a new video game you've gotten over the mail just two days after he left. But that was just momentary as you finished it in three days of continual gaming. You even went to visit the Fushiguros the weekend prior much to Mirai's delight just to have a semblance of familiarity where Sukuna was involved but it just made you miss him more.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, indeed. You could just laugh at yourself over the past days, thinking yourself selfish at the thought of not wanting him to go anywhere you couldn't easily reach him. But now that he was back, you are back to normal, and you knew you have to come to terms with accepting that it is a part of his job to be away from you every now and then if things are going to work out for the two of you.

You're whipped, and you know it. You've accepted that. Now, it's just a matter of not allowing yourself to become too dependent on his presence.

Sukuna woke up when you stopped for gas three hours later. Why he had to choose such a far off place to bring you to was beyond you, but you weren't complaining in that you'd go wherever he was, but it was more for the fact that he came straight out of the airport and yet he was traveling again and by car, too.

"You okay?" he asked while you munched on gummy bears, standing against the Jeep as you filled it with gas. "We can switch."

"I go on farther road trips with the boys and Ieiri every time we have the chance. Stop worrying about me."

He whined sleepily, his voice coming out thick, trapping you against the car with his body. "You're crabby today. It doesn't feel like you miss me."

"Oi, I had to order a new game just so I won't send stupid texts telling you to come back home. How dare you doubt that?"

He burst out laughing. "So you were nerding out while I was away?"

"Pretty much. Don't run away when one day, you walk into my room and find a monster holding onto my controller in the middle of pizza boxes and a whole lot of other mess. That's me needing to be brought out of my hole."

"Hey, don't do that when I go away for business trips." He looked seriously worried now. "You should do your normal routine."

"So don't say I didn't miss you because I was nearly that monster nerd I was telling you about." You popped a green gummy bear into his mouth. "And I'm still driving."

The drive continued for another two hours with you reaching the foot of the mountain at the side of the highway where you really had to switch with Sukuna since you didn't know the way.

"You didn't bring me here to murder me, did you?" you quipped, seeing how thick the forest was on the one-lane road going up the mountain. It was such green world that you almost wanted the feeling of being lost

"Probably. You're too bossy today."

"Hey, that's me being nice."

"I won't. I have other things in mind to do with you." He grinned mischievously at you, winking to which you just shook your head.

Soon enough, you reached a small, traditional village which was pretty much turned into a hot spring resort. Sukuna stopped at the largest building in the vicinity, telling you to wait in the car as he disembarked, returning very shortly later with a key dangling on his thumb. The drive continued for another twenty minutes until he parked in front of this old-style house which didn't look old at all, located at a much more secluded area of the resort. He handed you the key, telling you to go ahead while he unloads your stuff.

Yup. There was nothing old about the facilities at all with the south-facing side made entirely of glass that looked over the private hot spring and a view of the mountains beyond that. The kitchen was as modern as it could get, and judging by how Sukuna was carrying bag after bag of things into the fridge, he planned to cook during your entire stay there. You took over the job while he carried your luggage into the house. Poor thing did the shopping before coming to pick you up without telling you.

"Go shower and sleep. I can handle it from here," you told him when he entered the kitchen again, muscular arms crossed over his wide chest, eyeing you appreciatively.

Instead of doing as he was told, he came up to you, standing behind you, hands fastening onto your waist as he drew your hair to one side. He nuzzled your neck, slowly making his way up your jawline where he pressed his lips and lingered there for a bit. You smiled, reaching up with your hand to place it on his cheek.

"You need to rest, my love."

"Say that again," he whispered.

"You need to rest?" You teased, feeling him nip at your ear. "My love?"

"You keep annoying me today."

"You keep commenting about how I'm behaving today," you countered, facing him. "Come on, let me boss you around for now. You really need to get some shuteye."

"You'll let me boss you around later then?"

"Deal."

***

"Back already?"

You looked over your shoulder as you combed through your hair when you heard the sliding door open. A smile graced your lips seeing as how Sukuna looked better, more well-rested and more like himself after a long sleep, only coming to at nightfall. He took a dip in the hot spring after dinner and was returning from it.

He came in wearing that dark blue yukata provided by the resort, feeling your face grow hot when you realized you were ogling him yet again. How can you not when the garment hung loosely over his shoulder. He didn't bother tying it properly, and from the partition of the robe, you can see the broad expanse of his chest, the smattering of inked patterns following the sinews of his form.

It wasn't the first time you were seeing his tattoos, the artistic floral and tribal patterns making themselves known to you that day you woke up to him naked from the waist up. However, you did not realize they expanded all the way down the right side of his body, all the way down to the outer area of his thighs. Since he was just wearing a pair of boxers underneath the yukata, when he stepped forward, you were able to see it, and as curiosity won over you, you didn't look away even when he raised a brow at you, the ghost of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth.

You stood up, walking slowly towards him, stopping when you were less than a foot away. Your eyes shifted hesitantly between his face and that area of his anatomy silently asking for his permission to see more of it but your hands refused to move midway.

"What is it?" he asked, not exactly sure as to what you were trying to do.

Biting your lower lip. "M-may I..." You couldn't say it out loud so you pointed at his tattoos, feeling a lump forming on your throat when you realized how bold you were being.

"You don't have to ask," Sukuna whispered, taking your hand and placing it on his chest, warm and alive underneath your palm, while he drew his robe apart, eyes intent on you as you followed the expanse of skin that served as a canvass to the artfully-made representation of the four seasons in a single branch of a cherry blossom tree, meandering downwards. From his chest going down the length of his side, your hand traced over the colored patterns of smaller branches that progressed from summer to winter. Your fingers lingered over his iliac crest where new buds of the familiar pink blossoms that promised spring were immortalized on his skin.

Sukuna's breathing had deepened the moment your hand reached lower, and you relished the fact that you had that effect on him, too. You could feel heat behind your eyes as your blood rushed up to your head at the realization that you could do that to him, and even greater than that, the reality of just how much you wanted this man in front of you, how much you wanted to make him yours in every sense of the word and how much you wanted to be his and his alone.

In the dim light of the moon that was filtered by the mist rising from the springs through the open sliding doors, you looked up at Sukuna, the man you love with every single fiber of your being, leaning your head on his chest, listening to his beating heart that mirrored the thrumming in your chest.

You brushed your lips onto his bare skin, trailing kisses across his chest before looking up at him and letting yourself be devoured by those deep, hooded eyes as you stepped even closer.

"You're beautiful," you breathed out, pulling him down towards you, tears pooling in your eyes when he finally kissed you, taking your breath away.

Sukuna's large hands roamed your body as he continued to mold your mouth against his, his tongue pushing between your lips which you welcomed with your own, loving his taste, hot and wet and stirring you alive. His hands were warm and nimble as he kneaded the flesh of your hip through the fabric of your kimono, traveling lower to where the garment parted so he can slide his hand underneath. They made their way to your ass, squeezing hard before he slid lower, hooking both of his hands under your thighs. He lifted you up, urgently maneuvering your legs to wrap around his waist.

Neither of you came up for air even as he walked deeper into the room where the bed was, pawing and hungrily devouring each other, what began as a gentle kiss turning into a scorching show of dominance as you both took from each other, not quite getting enough.

"I love you," he rasped, breathless as he nipped at the shell of your ear. "I want all of you."

He then continued kissing you, seizing you at the back of your neck, roughly nibbling on your lips then progressing towards the columns of your throat, spreading the V that formed the collar of your robe. You ran your fingers through his hair, intoxicated by his scent, your toes curling as his hands travelled to outline the sides of your body possessively.

Sukuna then returned to your lips after leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your chest and collar bones, and you kissed him back just as fervently as he pressed you down against his clothed crotch, making you shiver as you felt stirrings at the pit of your stomach. You gasped at the feeling of him poking against your thigh but before you could recover, he entered his hot tongue into your mouth again, gently luring yours to mingle with his. You just let him have his way, not quite believing what was happening as you felt your skin bursting into flames wherever he touched you.

Sukuna lifted you slightly off the bed, putting you down so that you were facing away from him. From behind, he guided you towards the pillows and snaked his hands around your waist, reaching for the sash of your robe and tugging on it. When he was successful, he tossed it somewhere on the floor and reached over your shoulders, slowly feeling for the lapels of the robe, making sure his fingers brushed against your skin, sending jolts of electricity all over your body as he peeled the garment off you in deliberate and calculated slowness, coupled with his mouth following the train down your nape to your shoulders before he pushed you face down on the bed.

"Oh god," you whispered, fighting for air as he gathered your hair to your left shoulder and licked the shell of your ear. "What are you thinking about? You're too stiff. Relax," he said in that deep, sensual voice that turned your legs to jelly.

You grabbed onto the pillow, anticipating what he was gonna do next when you felt his febrile tongue making a trail on your right shoulder, the action morphing into sloppy, wet kisses going down your bare back until you could not feel your robe anywhere near your body anymore. He has already undressed you.

You were on edge and just hyper aware of everything he was doing and every single touch he left on your body made you feel like it was leaving a mark and being absorbed by every cell in your system. It felt good being this close to him, being touched by him and you wouldn’t really mind if he marked you everywhere. You wanted to be his and you wanted the world to know.

His hands travelled everywhere it could touch, pushing you to the edge and making you feel like you were burning slowly, the kind that made every corner of your body tingle with anticipation. What you didn't realize was how tight you were holding the pillow to yourself until he suddenly mentioned it.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?" Your voice came out at a higher pitch, making you want to smack yourself. This was that you wanted and yet you were being all jittery.

He chuckled softly, stopping his ministrations. "What are you doing?"

At that, you pushed yourself off the bed a bit and turned your head sideways to meet his gaze from over your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“Yes?”

“Overwhelmed,” you whispered, chuckling slightly. While it wasn’t your first time, everything felt new with the added sensations that your deep emotions for him were throwing into the mix. “How do you want me?”

He turned you over on your back, chuckling. "For starters, cut out the pillow hugging." He pried the thing off your arms and chucked it against the headboard. Sukuna then hovered over you, pinning your hands on either side of your head then began his assault on your neck going lower and lower until he reached your left breast and started licking and tugging on your nipple, his other hand busy kneading the other.

“You are beautiful,” he said, mouth moving against the swell of your flesh while his other hand took possession of the other hand, tentatively squeezing with his long fingers.

You let out a moan, craving for more but not certain whether you could take it or not with your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest. You wanted him to touch you more and as if he read your mind, he returned to kissing you intensely until you thought you couldn't breathe, well aware of how his other hand was taking off your panties. Your heart was beating erratically in your chest as you anticipated the moment, but halfway down your thighs, he raised himself a bit and laid himself on top of you, burying his face into your hair.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked cautiously as he raised himself slightly, looking into the depths of your eyes as if he was looking right through you.

Cupping his face, you rose slightly on your elbows, pressing your lips at the corner of his mouth. "A hundred times yes. I'm yours," you said with all the conviction you could muster in your hazy state – love drunk, kiss drunk, Sukuna drunk.

At your response, he latched his lips onto the skin of your neck, kissing lower and lower, passing over your breasts where he lingered, biting and sucking gently. You hissed as you watched him progress downward, his mouth doing all the magic from the valley of your chest down to your stomach, his hand reaching for the garment he had taken off you halfway down your legs, discarding it. The rough pads of his hands brushed over your thighs, pushing them apart as he lowered himself between them.

You let out a sharp cry when he licked a long stripe on your nether lips, his hot tongue swirling over your sensitive nub. He hummed in approval upon tasting you while he teased your folds with two of his digits. Without a warning he simultaneously pushed his fingers into you and sucked on your clit, building a rhythm that had you seeing stars with every thrust, coaxing out whimpers from your slightly parted lips. Your hips bucked towards him when you felt him reaching deep enough to touch your sweet spot again and again.

Sukuna anchored his arms around your thighs, his elbows on the mattress as he held you steady, continuing to lap at you and move his digits inside you as you felt that familiar sensation of coming undone, guiding you through it until you released so hard your juices squirted out despite his fingers still inserted in you, making a right mess of his mouth, chin and hand.

You spasmed against him but he didn't let go, continuing with his ministrations. He removed his fingers from inside you and started eating you out like a starved man, catching all of your essence from your initial orgasm and cajoling you into another one as he shoved his tongue right into you.

Your hand reached down, fingers tangling with his cherry blossom locks, not knowing whether you want to push him or keep him right where he was. He moaned as he felt your walls clenching, the vibrations caused by his voice stimulating you further, and in no time, you were releasing into his mouth again, your high hitting you like a speeding truck, slamming onto you and leaving you a shaking mess.

Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to calm down, chuckling in between each intake of breath when you felt Sukuna planting ephemeral kisses on your feverish skin, working his way up this time, worshipping your body before catching your lips in his where you tasted yourself on him.

"Can I eat you forever?" he asked with a groan. "You taste exquisite, my love."

"Alright," you panted, "But before that..." You looked him in the eye, running your hand down his chiseled abs until you reached the band of his boxers, excitement filling you as you palmed his crotch over the fabric. You snickered when his whole body seized on top of you, but you were just as out of breath feeling how massive and warm he was against your palm. You bit your lip as your hand moved, rubbing him slowly. Sukuna's eyes drooped a little as he drank in the clouded look in your eyes.

Satoru wasn't wrong about the condoms, and it further got proven to you when you pushed Sukuna’s underwear down and he rose up to his knees, finishing the job. You swore your eyes were going to pop out of their sockets when his length was released from its restraints, slapping against his stomach, thick, long and standing proud, its pink tip leaking precum that dripped down, following a prominent vein on its underside. You never wanted to put anything in your mouth as much as you wanted his dick, but the idea of it stretching you and ripping you apart from between your legs was more intriguing.

Sukuna smirked down at you. "Like what you see, sweetheart?"

"That's an understatement." You swallowed hard, taking you herculean effort to look at his face instead. "I don't just wanna look at it though."

He reached over to the nightstand, taking out that familiar bag from Satoru, quickly rummaging through it. "I'd be insulted if that's all you wanna do." He said as he took out a packet, about to rip it but you shook your head, taking it away from him.

He arched a brow at you. "You don't...Are you –"

"Stop asking me if I'm sure. I'm certain as I'll ever be." You smiled at him. "Or maybe I'll change my mind if you keep asking."

Laughing, he bent down, positioning himself between your legs as he took possession of your lips once more. You took a deep breath when you felt his tip nudging between your folds, teasing you while he busied himself with tracing the topography of your body as if committing it to memory.

Watching him now, you wished you've met him earlier in your life, loved him longer than you have at present. If you knew someone like Sukuna would come to care for you as much as he does, even in acts that are mostly governed by sheer instinct and senses, driven by need and lust, you would have combed the earth to find him. He cares so damn much for you that you knew he will find it in him to stop if you just said so even at his own expense.

"Sukuna..." his name spilled from your mouth, wanting him all for yourself, body, heart and soul. "Baby, please..." You were pleading, but for what, you didn't know exactly.

"Yes, my love?" he questioned, a smug grin playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched the mess that you are beneath him. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you whimpered, raising your hip to meet his cock, hard and burning on your skin. "I want you," you breathed out, the delicious torture in your voice coming to a crescendo when he thrust in agonizingly slow, making your wish his command.

He stretched you, gradually, gently as if he was afraid to break you, but your breath hitched for a different reason entirely. His girth left a slight burn as he pushed in, the rapturous feel of him invading your space and being wrapped in your flesh making a heated mess out of you as you grabbed everything you can get a grip on – the sheets, his shoulders, the pillow nearest to you – trying to anchor yourself from the sudden high of knowing he was inside you.

Your eyes watered at the sheer thought of being connected to him so deeply, and you found yourself falling to blissful surrender when he finally bottomed out. You felt him twitch inside you, but instead of moving as he wished, he cupped your face, delicately brushing his fingers over your flushed cheeks. He had that look of disquiet as he examined your expressions.

"You okay?"

You nodded, beaming in your state of stupor. "Please…move."

Sukuna begins to do as he was told, sliding in and out and acquainting you to his rhythm, his intense eyes hooded yet intense as he regarded you, aware of every nuance of your expressions with every single thrust. He started picking up the pace when he felt you wrap your legs around him, hitting you deeper every single time.

Pleasurable groans elicited from Sukuna's lips as he held himself up, driving his hips against yours repeatedly. "You're so tight," he rasped, his snagged breaths hot on your ears. "You feel so good."

"So good," you repeated, completely going out of it when the mere brushing of his rod against your walls drove you over the edge. You clenched tight around him and he let out a groan, eyes rounding when he realized you were close.

"Let go, baby. Cum for me," he said between pants as he pounded onto you unrelentingly.

You spoke broken syllables of his name as you came around him, riding you through your high. Acid white flashes started to flash behind your eyelids, your back arching from the bed as you keened loudly, too enraptured and absorbed in the pleasure that he was giving you.

However, before you could even recover, Sukuna lifted you off the bed, holding you against him so that your breast were rubbing against his taut chest. You wrapped your arms around him, gripping onto his shoulders while you sat astride him on your knees.

"You'll give me one more, won't you, my love?" he said, thrusting up to you whilst he gripped your waist so tight you knew you will have bruises after, making you meet every single push of his thick length.

Both your moans filled the room along with skin hitting skin, the friction between you two kept at bay by the sheen of sweat that covered your bodies. He held onto the back of your neck, roughly kissing you, your tongues dancing the lovers' minuet. Your lungs begged for air, but you were reluctant to be released from Sukuna's wild kisses while he fucked you senseless.

"Fuck," he growled through gritted teeth. "I love you," he whispered repeatedly like a mantra.

You felt him getting harder inside you as he hastened his pace, ramming into you faster and stronger, and in no time, you were screaming out his name as you came undone again with him following shortly after you did, a deep groan falling out of his mouth in a dragged out note when he spilled his seed inside of you, making you feel even fuller, your walls throbbing around his softening length.

Spent, you both fell back on the welcoming softness of the mattress with him still inside you. He landed on top of you, catching his breath while he rested his head on the crook of your neck while you wrapped your arm around him, your fingers carding through his damp locks.

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he purred in hushed tones once he caught your breath.

Your brows furrowed in perplexity. “I didn’t do anything.”

He shook his head, pulling out and rolling away, his eyes between your thighs, watching as your mixed juices dripped down on the sheets. “I’m not just talking about your body and how you felt. That in itself is amazing, but I’m referring to everything that you are.”

You felt heat creeping up your neck, all the way to your scalp. Abashed, you covered your face with your hands. “Don’t say things like that. You’re making me a shy mess. Geez.”

“Hey, look at me.” He clucked his tongue when you didn’t move, taking your hands off of your face. When you finally did as you were told, he said, “I mean it. Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re real.”

“I should be saying that. You’re so kind to me, and I feel how much you care for me every single time you say or do something. And I’m just selfish, really.”

“No, you’re not?”

“I am, Sukuna. I want you all to myself from that time you first kissed me, but I didn’t really do much to make that happen because I’m also a wimp, so thank you for going the extra mile for me.” You smiled slightly, feeling your eyes fill with tears.

“Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true. You’re always the one putting in the effort.”

“Because I want to.” He suddenly sat up, pulling you by the arm to lift you up when you gasped, feeling a sudden jolt of pain at the base of your back and the joints on your thighs at your sudden movement. “What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.

You raised a finger, moving on the mattress on your own while you held onto his arm for support. “Give me a moment.”

Sukuna regarded you with wide eyes. “Did I hurt you?” He sat beside you, wrapping arm around your shoulder and soothingly rubbing your arm. “Are you aching anywhere?”

“A bit, but it’s the good kind.” You smirked at him. “You’re amazing,” you said, imitating his tone earlier when he said you’re beautiful, your eyes traveling to his crotch. “You wrecked me, my love.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or be upset. “You say the most outrageous things and it doesn’t help that you don’t hold back either.”

“Too shocking?” you offered.

“Scandalous!” he quipped, chuckling and you joined in on the laughter, the merry sound breaking through the stillness. “Can I carry you now?”

“Sure.” You lifted your arms, latching onto his neck, letting him take you to the bathroom.

“Let’s wash up and take a dip.”

You nodded and let him have his way around you, standing on the shower stall with him as he did everything while you just held onto him, your legs still wobbly. He kissed you on the cheek, the action soft and delicate, filling you with happiness. You can’t believe he is real.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he spoke against your skin.

You pulled away from him, placing your hand on either side of his face, and with a triumphant smile, you said, “I’m not. Never will be.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more. Don’t argue.” You pecked him on the lips.

Sukuna beamed at you toothily. “Alright, sweetheart.”

He carried you out of the bath and out of the sliding doors that led to the hot spring, setting you down into the water carefully as if you’d break if he didn’t take caution. The hot water felt glorious on your skin, immediately melting the knots of your muscles as you sat between his legs, both of you submerged chest-deep.

“Damn, that feels good,” you sighed, mollified as you leaned against Sukuna’s broad chest, closing your eyes in bliss. “I can stay here forever.”

“Are you talking about the hot spring?”

“Yes and no,” you said without hesitation. “The water feels nice, but it wouldn’t be complete without you holding me.”

“You’re being sweet now after bossing me around earlier?” He wrapped his arms around you, placing his chin on your shoulder. “We can always come here when we both have free time. And I’ll always hold you like this.”

“I like that.”

“I love you,” he mumbled, nuzzling on the spot below your ear and breathing in deeply. “You smell divine.”

“I know. I smell like you.”

“Thank heavens then cause that’s what seemed to lure you to me,” he kidded.

You just smiled, reaching blindly to place your palm on his cheek, trying to get a semblance of reality although it was already staring you in the face, the emotions and sensations he has making you feel very much real, but you seem to be in a dream state, unable to come to terms with the fact that spring has finally come for you in the person of the man whose arms held you tight and close to his heart.

“Sukuna…”

“Yes, my love?”

“Thanks for existing."

-THE END-

So, I made Megumi's mom's name here "Miriai." I made her an OC because I can't just keep referring to her as "she/her." It's quite confusing. I hope this doesn't bother anyone. I cringed, too, trust me.

Okay, Toji is also OOC here. Haha! I went all the way with conjuring these characteristics and since Sukuna, my love, is super soft here (he has cherry blossom tats XD), why not Toji, too?

Anyway, I would like to say thank you to everyone who read this fic! Stay tuned for more. Love you guys :)

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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thatfanficstuff · 3 years

Text

Summer Wedding - Stucky

Grouping - Stucky x Reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. smut including unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), public teasing, oral sex (m receiving), spit roasting, minor knife play and other stuff I'm sure I forgot.

A/N: This is the first fic I'm posting for my summer celebration and it was actually written for boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge. Not as um...descriptive as I'd intended on making it but I like it. Enjoy.

Word count: 3544

***

The wedding was beautiful, even you had to admit that. It was a relatively simple affair as these things went, though you were certain your uncle had spent several thousands on the flowers that seemed to dot every surface of the grounds of his estate. At least he’d kept your cousin from having a large church wedding this time. There was only so many times that was acceptable anyway, right?

A sigh slid from your lips and you sipped at your drink. You never should have come to this wedding. You weren’t in the mood for it. No, you should have made up an excuse about being sick and stayed home. The only reason you hadn’t was the fact you had no desire to listen to your mother bitch at you for the next six months for missing a family event. Just the thought had you rolling your eyes.

You’d actually been looking forward to the wedding until last week. That’s when you discovered your boyfriends were going on a mission and would not be back in time to accompany you. Not only did you hate going to weddings alone, but you’d already gone through the ordeal of explaining to your aunt why you need a plus two instead of a plus one. And she certainly hadn’t kept that information to herself. Half the damn day had been spent answering questions about your relationship from nosy family members.

Speaking of…Your cousin Natalie sat down in one of the empty chairs that flanked you. She smirked and sipped at her champagne. “So, where are your dates, Y/N?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. Too much more of that and you’d have a raging migraine. Instead, you kept your gaze on the dance floor and took another sip of your drink. “They had to work.”

“I just find it interesting that you all but beg mother for an extra seat and here they both are. Empty.” She eyed you, waiting for a reaction you had no intention of giving her. “I mean, why lie? It’s kind of pathetic.”

You finally turned your head to her. “Shouldn’t you be doing something wedding-ish? You are the maid of honor, aren’t you? Oh, that’s right, you aren’t in the wedding party, are you?” You sucked a breath through your teeth in mock sympathy. “Sorry.”

There was certain to be a reason why Natalie wasn’t part of her only sisters third wedding, but you didn’t care beyond the fact it was sure to be a sore spot. Frankly, Natalie had always been a bitch, even when you were children. Though, unlucky in the marriage department, her sister Sally had always been your preferred cousin. Maybe Sally had finally gotten tired of dealing with her sister’s shit.

Natalie narrowed her eyes and leaned toward you. “I don’t believe you could get one man to put up with you, let alone two. No one does. We actually had a pool going over whether either of them would show up. And if they did, whether they’d leave with you since you’d probably paid them to be here. I mean, most people just make up one boyfriend. Two really takes the cake. You never could stand not being the center of attention.”

The irony wasn’t lost you that most of your family had no idea you worked with the Avengers. Nor had you mentioned the names of those two boyfriends of yours. Real attention seeker you were. You chanced a glance at your phone to check the time. You had at least another hour before you could leave without a lecture from your mother. You also had zero messages from your boys. Hopefully, that meant they were taking care of business and would be home soon.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” your cousin started whisper yelling from beside you as she froze in her chair. Her eyes were wide and slightly crazed.

Your brow furrowed. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Even as you waited for an answer, your trained ear picked up murmurs beginning amongst the other guests.

When you went to look over your shoulder, Natalie gripped your hand. “Don’t turn around,” she said through clenched teeth. When you went to do it anyway, she snapped again. “Don’t. They’ll see you staring.”

“Who?” Your tone was clipped as irritation crawled through you.

“Steve Rogers and James Barnes just walked in,” she hissed, her gaze locked on them. So apparently she was allowed to stare but you weren’t. By this point, everyone else would be staring as well. The boys were used to it.

You snatched your hand away from your cousin and spun in your seat. As soon as you saw them, a smile covered your face. They had been so certain they wouldn’t be back in time. You knew they’d pushed themselves to be here for you. You ran your gaze over them, taking in the rare sight of them in suits. Even though you’d helped them pick them out, you still licked your lips at the sight.

Steve wore a beautiful bright blue suit that you knew brought out his eyes even though they were currently hidden behind sunglasses. Buck’s suit looked light blue but it was actually a thin blue pin stripe. Both of them looked incredible as always, but you always got a little thrill seeing them dressed up. Of course, that feeling was mutual.

They hadn’t seen you yet, but they were scanning the crowd as they moved across the vast grounds of your uncle’s estate. When your uncle moved to greet them, you stood as well.

Natalie grabbed at your arm. “What are you doing? You’re going to embarrass me.”

Yeah, she didn’t need any help with that. You shook her off and started toward your men. Both of them immediately locked onto your presence and wide smiles greeted you. Your uncle got to them before you could. Steve shifted his attention to speak with him, but Buck’s attention was 100% on you. His gaze trailed over you from head to toe and his eyes darkened.

“We’re extremely honored that you’re here. How did you hear about the wedding?” you heard your uncle ask. He was one of the politer members of your family.

“They’re with me, Uncle Frank,” you said as soon as you were close enough to be heard without raising your voice. “Sorry they’re late. They were working.”

Frank turned to you, his mouth slightly agape and his brows lifted. “These are the dates Margie wouldn’t stop going on about?” Margie was his wife and the aunt you had to beg for the extra seat.

You hummed in agreement.

“Well, I certainly hope so or this is going to turn awkward in a moment,” Bucky said with a lopsided grin. He opened his arms in invitation and you stepped into them. “Missed you, doll.”

You nuzzled against his chest briefly, careful not to transfer your makeup to his shirt. “I missed you, too. So much. I’m glad you’re home.”

There was a tug on your arm and you were pulled into Steve’s embrace. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, soldier.” You turned to look at your uncle who was still staring in stunned silence. “Steve, Bucky, this is my Uncle Frank. Father of the bride.”

Both of your boys shook his hand and thanked him for allowing them to come. He hurried back to his table, undoubtedly to announce this strange turn of events. You fell into step with your boyfriends, taking their hands in yours while you walked in the middle. You led them over to your table to find Natalie still in Bucky’s seat.

“Natalie,” you said to get her attention. When she continued to gape at the two men you said her name again.

She smiled at you as if you were her favorite person in the world certain there was an introduction in her future. “Yes, cousin?”

“You’re in his seat.”

She blinked at you for a second before her face twisted in anger. She scrambled from the chair and stormed back to her table with a toss of her head. Steve and Buck chuckled as they took their seats on either side of you. They slid their chairs as close to you as they could get. “Are you two hungry? We already had dinner but I could find you something.”

Bucky squeezed your thigh. “We ate. Don’t worry about us, sweetheart.”

“I’m glad you two made it,” your mother’s voice caught your attention and you turned to find her standing next to Steve. He stood to greet her and you leaned against Bucky, knowing he wouldn’t care to do the same. “If I had to listen to one more person say she made you up I was going to scream,” she admitted as she hugged Steve. That earned another low chuckle from Bucky.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s good to see you again,” Steve said, managing to sound sincere. Not that he disliked your mother, but they’d just returned from a mission. All they wanted to do was stay home for a couple of days and destress. But they’d come here for you and they would be on their best behavior.

“We won’t be staying long, mom. They just got home,” you informed her and braced yourself for an argument.

Instead, she nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. Just make sure to introduce them to Sally before you leave.”

You groaned. “Can’t I just do it at her next wedding?”

“Y/N!” she snapped but you caught the twitch at the corner of her lips.

Bucky snorted a laugh beside you while Steve shot you a chastising look. You smiled. “I will, momma.”

She left and Bucky turned to speak in your ear as Steve sat back down. “We don’t have to leave, baby girl.” The nickname shot a thrill up your spine. “I love weddings. The food. The dancing. The clothes. Like this little number you have on. I really love this dress, doll.” You wore a white sundress with tiny blue flowers on it to match their suits that fell a few inches above your knees. It was the first time either of them had seen it.

Steve’s arm settled across the back of your chair and his fingers played with your hair. “Yeah, that dress is something special. It might be a bit too short, though,” he said without glancing at you. Instead, he seemed to be keeping an eye on the crowd around you.

“It’s not too short.” You loved the dress and thought it was perfect.

“Yeah, Stevie. If anything, it’s not short enough.” Bucky’s fingers dragged your dress up your thigh, bunching it up in his hand as he went.

“What are you doing, Barnes?” you hissed.

“I told you I missed you, doll. I want to show you how much.”

You placed a hand on his, stopping his movement. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course, we are. We talked about it all the way home,” Steve answered. He lowered his mouth to speak in your ear. “Talked about how we wanted to please you in front of everyone. With everyone watching because you know their eyes are glued to our table trying to figure out how we managed to land a beautiful gal like you.”

You snorted a laugh that cut off in a gasp as Bucky pulled your dress further up your thigh. “I don’t think that’s what they’re thinking, Steve.”

Bucky kissed the patch of skin behind your ear. “How come he gets Steve and I got Barnes?”

“He’s not the one actively trying to feel me up at my cousin’s wedding.” Your eyes slipped closed as his fingers brushed your inner thigh. Sweat beaded your skin and you wondered if you could blame it on the heat even though it was ten degrees cooler than it had been earlier.

“But it was all his idea,” Buck whispered.

Your eyes flew open to shoot a glare at the blond’s head. “Steven Grant Rogers, What would your mother say?”

Buck laughed, drawing the attention of some of the few people that weren’t already staring. “She’d probably say, ‘good going, Stevie’. She would have loved you.”

“Would—” All ability to finish your sentence or to have a rational thought fled from you when he pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers through your folds. Fuck.

“She’s already soaking wet for us, Steve. Such a good girl,” Bucky cooed.

Steve’s hand fisted on the back of your chair as he glanced around again. “I was wrong. I don’t have the patience for this. I need to be buried in her.” He slid his sunglasses off and put them in the inside pocket of his jacket. He turned to face you, blue eyes burning into you. “You have exactly two minutes to find us someplace private or we’re going to finger fuck you right here until you scream. Your choice, princess.”

In less than a minute, you’d sent a text on your phone and jumped to your feet. Taking their hands in yours, you dragged them toward the house. You pulled them through the large home until you reached a familiar door on the main level. Opening it, you shoved the super soldiers inside. You locked the door behind you and turned to find them already loosening their ties.

“We don’t have time for that,” you argued with a wave of your hands. “I told Uncle Frank we were borrowing his office for an important phone call. We have twenty minutes tops.”

Bucky groaned. “I wanted to take my time with you. I missed you,” he nearly whined.

The corner of your mouth kicked up. “We can take all the time you want later, baby. Right now, just fuck me.” That had him groaning again, an entirely different sound this time.

Steve, however, wasn’t wasting any time. He grabbed a cushion from the couch and tossed it on the floor. “All fours, princess.” He was already undoing his belt by the time you dropped to your knees. He moved behind you and pushed your dress up to give himself a clear view of your ass. He ran his hand over it before giving you a light swat. The mild sting was still enough to have you shifting.

“These have got to go,” he said tugging on the side of your panties. “Buck?”

You glanced up to see Bucky grin as he pulled out a knife and handed it to Steve. He traced your spine with the back of the blade causing you to hiss and arch your back. The sensation only doubled when he moved from cloth to bare skin. The cold steel on your flesh sent tremors through you but you weren’t scared. Far from it. “I think she likes that, Stevie,” Bucky said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “We’ll have to remember that.”

Steve merely hummed before slicing through both sides of your panties and pulling them off as he handed the knife back to his friend. His hand immediately cupped you and his fingers dipped into your soaking wet folds. “Christ, Y/N. I hope you’re ready for me, baby.”

The head of his cock nudged your entrance as if asking for permission but that only lasted a moment. A second later, Steve surged forward filling you with his length. You moaned at the familiar sensation and clawed at the carpet. He paused, giving you time to adjust then he was thrusting into you in long, slow strokes. “Don’t tease,” you ordered.

Steve laughed and increased his speed. When you groaned, Bucky was there rubbing the tip of his cock across your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked at him greedily, needing to taste him while Steve railed you from behind. Only when you had both of them inside of you did you feel complete. Whole. Whatever the fuck was wrong with you, you hoped there was no cure. You would gladly die like this.

The feeling of both of them moving in and out had a perfectly sinful, wanton moan coming from you. The vibration ran along the length of Bucky’s cock and he grunted. His fingers tightened their hold in your hair and his speed increased. Steve mirrored his pace and it didn’t take long for the office to fill with lurid grunts and the sweaty, sweet smell of sex.

Soon, you were so lost in sensation you became little more than a vessel for them to use as you climbed to your peak. Their rhythm stuttered and you knew they were close. You clenched your walls around Steve and were rewarded with a hiss and his grip on your hips tightening. At the same time, you sucked harder on Bucky and ran your tongue along the underside of his cock. “Fuck,” he bit out. “I’m close. Cum, baby girl. Come on.”

Steve’s fingers found your clit. Two seconds later you were screaming around the cock in your mouth as your cunt clutched greedily at the one in your pussy. Fuck. Bucky came next, his load shooting into your mouth and down your throat. As you swallowed his offering, Steve filled you with his cum. You felt it leak around him and drip to the floor.

They pulled out of you at the same time and you collapsed to your side. “Holy shit,” you said between pants causing your boys to laugh.

“Holy shit’s right. Damn,” Bucky agreed. Your eyes followed his movements as he tucked himself back into his pants and put himself to rights. Before you could turn to Steve, you felt fabric between your legs cleaning you up.

A glance showed him wiping away his cum with the remnants of your panties. He gave you a wicked grin. “Can’t have you leaking all over your cousin’s wedding, now can we?”

Your face heated as you thought about all the times they’d made you walk around with their cum leaking out of you. Apparently, that wasn’t appropriate for a wedding but was fine everywhere else. Steve stood and pulled his pants up before doing up his belt. He held out a hand to you. “Let’s get you fixed up, sweetheart.”

They’d barely done anything and looked like they had when you walked into the room. You, on the other hand, probably looked like you’d gone a couple of rounds with a rabid raccoon. Stupid men. Steve made sure your dress was laying correctly so everything was covered while Bucky did the same thing behind you. They both fiddled with your hair for a moment before declaring you gorgeous.

You narrowed your gaze at them, not buying it for a moment. The three of you quickly put the office to rights. There was nothing you could do about the smell of sex in the air but hopefully it would dissipate before your uncle needed to use it.

“Seriously, baby girl. You look fantastic,” Buck insisted when he noticed you fidgeting.

“Yeah, but you guys like it when I look freshly fucked,” you said as you opened the door. There was a mirror in the hallway you used to check your appearance. You actually didn’t look that bad, but you definitely looked a little wild. You shrugged. Honestly, you didn’t care. “All right, we’re saying hello to the bride, then we’re leaving.”

“No argument here.” Steve took your hand in his and Buck did the same thing on the other side.

When the three of you made it outside, you headed straight for the head table. “Sally, this is Steve and Bucky. Boys, this is my cousin Sally and her new husband Ben.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Steve greeted with a smile. Sally launched herself at him and wrapped him in a hug.

“I can’t believe you came to my wedding,” she squealed before letting go of him to hug Bucky. His eyes begged you to help him but you just smiled. Sally was a bit flighty but she was good people.

She hugged you last. “You should have told me, Y/N. I would have sat you closer to the front.”

“It’s okay, Sally. We have to go. Congratulations,” you said then let her go. When you did, you found that most of the family had come to get introductions or say their farewells. Nicole tried to go in for a hug, but Steve subtly made sure it was nothing more than a handshake. The fact you didn’t introduce her was enough to tell them she wasn’t the kind of person they wanted to know.

When she tried to hug Bucky, you intercepted and hugged her instead. “It was good seeing you, Nicole.”

“You have some explaining to do,” she said in a low voice as she hugged you tighter than necessary. When she released you, she continued to stand by you.

You watched Bucky and Steve say goodbye to your mother and uncle before they turned to you. You held up a finger to tell them you’d be right with them and leaned sideways to get closer to your cousin. “So, just out of curiosity, did anyone in the pool have them fucking me during the reception?”

#stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #here be lemons #knife play #hot girl summer challenge #marvel fanfic

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sleep3deprived · 3 years

Text

One Last Compliment

Pairing: Miya Atumu x F!Reader

Words count: 941

Genre: Fluff, Hurt, Angst

Warning: Mentions of death/dying, Language

Note: Hey guys! Fun fact, I'm currently editing this while I'm in school and thank God no ones near me to see bc that'd be embarrassing...ahaha

random update: why's my principal here *aggresively and quickly changes tabs*

ANyWays, hope you enjoy!!! This may or may not be based on a true story...

Why did you let your dad drag you to this thing?

I mean, sure you wanted to go before, but now after realizing that your parents were going to be there at your secret boyfriend’s cousin’s wedding, you just want to crawl in a hole and die.

How were you supposed to figure out that your boyfriend’s cousin’s dad and your dad were friends? Much less, on good terms enough to be invited to his son’s wedding?

Now, instead of being able to talk freely with your boyfriend, away from school and parents, you’re pushed right into the vicinity of being overly cautious of making sure your father doesn’t catch either of you staring.

Atsumu told you about the wedding a few months ago, after complaining about how annoying getting a suit fitted was. You jokingly said, “Wouldn’t it be funny if I attended?” which resulted in him replying “No, ‘cause ‘a can’t keep ma hands off ya and if ya came with yer family, yer dad would have ma head. ‘A need to be on his good side for future reference!”.

Honestly, you wish you never had to keep your relationship a secret. But you had to explain to him that if your father- one who doesn’t want his little girl to grow up and date just yet- realizes she’s been in a secret committed relationship for the past many months, you might as well start planning your funeral.

But it can’t be controlled. However, you know you love Atsumu, and that there’s gonna be a future with the both of you, together in some way. So you weren’t very worried. Just unbelievably sure.

You just hope you can keep the secret of being together long enough to last.

Unfortunately for you, even if you wanted to spend time with your loving boyfriend at the wedding, him being one of the groomsmen made it take up all his time.

You blow the hair blocking your face out of the way, “And here I was looking all cute for him…” you pout out.

It’s a good thing you decided to put some effort into yourself today, you guessed. Besides it being a wedding and for Atsumu, somehow he got you to introduce yourself to his grandma, aunts, cousins- who you’ve made good friends with- even his fucking family friends!

You’re basically accustomed to his whole family now.

‘Shit, this might as well be my wedding.’

“Y/N-nee-san! Save me!” A small voice screamed, grabbing onto your leg.

You looked down to see Atsumu’s little cousin, one that you’ve gotten pretty close to. “Atsumu-nii is chasing me!”

You took her into your arms while you find your boyfriend run into the lounge area towards you too.

“Oh no! The scary monster is coming! I’ll keep you safe!” You tell the little girl, holding her in a way to keep your lover away.

“Monster?! Ya fell in lo- Ya know what- fine!” Atsumu says grumpily while continuing to attempt to grab his little cousin.

Both you and the little girl laugh out. You put the small one down onto the ground “Quickly! Go run away from him before he catches you!” You tell the small child while you deal with the other man child.

Once you see the child out of sight -including the area being secluded- you find Atsumu pouting when you turn back. You giggle at his antics, taking his cheeks into your hands, “I was just joking ‘Tsum ‘Tsum.” You let out a chuckle at his behaviour.

“Well, at least put some of yer attention on me! I’m startin’ to think ya like ma cousins more than me.” He tells you with a pout.

“That’s ‘cause I do. And you’re the one walking around all busy, Mr. Groomsman.” You eye at him slyly. He gasps in fake shock, putting a hand out to his chest.

“It’s not ma fault! I wanted to talk to ya more, but the damned pictures took forever…”

“And here I was thinking you’d shower me in some compliments.” You sigh out humourlessly to him.

He looks at you amusingly, before noticing him being called by some of his family members.

“Yeah! I’ll be right there!” He says right before leaving you.

Before he does, he’s right behind you, putting both his hands on your shoulders and leaning over to put his lips against your ear and whispering against it.

“Of course ya look beautiful. Especially in white. When you spin ‘round in yer dress, it’s like looking at an angel.” He says into your ear, leaving goosebumps against your skin. The feeling of his hot breath against your neck still there.

Right after Atsumu finished his sentence, he runs back to his duties, leaving you alone, a blush dusting your cheeks, biting your cheek as an attempt to suppress the smile that crosses your face.

Years later, you constantly think of that moment. You’ve been with a few men here and there, but none have ever given you a compliment as beautiful as that.

You can still feel the emotions you felt after receiving that compliment. The warmth that spread through you, how genuine he was.

Remembering how excited he was to introduce you to his family, his brain already planning for what could have been you two happily together.

After all this time, you still think about him here and there. You would be lying if you said he didn’t leave a lasting mark on you. The memories, his touch, the feeling of security and endless love.

Yet every day, you wish that compliment wasn’t one of the last ones you got from him.

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ifmywishescametrue · 3 years

Note

Hi!!! First of all, I am like🥺 such a fan of everything you write! And so I saw that you’re taking prompts and thought I’d try my luck. So, if you’re inspired of course, maybe you would do “I’m not leaving” or “I’m glad you’re here” (or literally any prompt from that list bc they’re all just🥺🥺) for Steve/Tony? Oh, and as a fellow Swiftie, I hope you’re ready for the Fearless re-release tomorrow !!!🤯 bc I’m looking forward to crying my way through this weekend🥲🥰🥺💖💞

hi!!! thank you so much, and I’m so sorry this took so long! but i also managed to put both prompts into it so hopefully that makes up for it lol. also the fearless re-recordings are so insanely good and the vault songs are god tier!!

Tony has a vision in his mind for the day he graduates from college. It’s been there since he was just a kid and the furthest ahead he could imagine for himself was that day. At the time it seemed like a hundred years away, and it carried an allure of freedom that was nearly unfathomable back then.

He always thought Ana and Jarvis would be there, sitting next to his mom. Howard came and went from the vision, because sometimes Tony would dream that it would be the day he was finally proud of him and sometimes he would be out of Tony’s life completely by then. When Steve comes into his life in middle school, new to California from Brooklyn, he gets added to that vision, too.

The reality ends up disappointing.

It’s been a few months since Jarvis passed, a couple of years since his parents died, and even longer since Ana’s death, but it hurts a little more today. All of the empty seats make Tony’s chest ache. Steve’s absence makes it even worse, even if he understands it. It’s not the first time the army made him miss something big, and Tony knows it won’t be the last. At least he’d been apologetic on the phone. A little sad, even, which made Tony feel worse for it.

After the ceremony ends, Rhodey slings his arm around his shoulder and Pepper walks on his other side.

“Just once I wish they’d pick someone actually good to speak at these things,” Rhodey complains. “That was so cheesy.”

“You mean you aren’t excited for the first day of the rest of our lives?” Pepper teases.

Tony laughs, “I thought the real low point was that joke he tried to make in the middle. Not too inspiring to imply that our degrees are essentially useless.”

“No, I love knowing that I’ve wasted the last four years.”

Rhodey hums, “Also wish he was a little more wrong about that.”

Rhodey’s family starts to call his name, waving enthusiastically from where the large group of them is huddled together. Pepper’s parents stand with them, looking so clearly like the odd ones out that it makes Tony grin.

“I see your families are getting along just fine,” Tony says, watching Pepper’s mom bounce one of Rhodey’s cousins in her arms.

“They’ve joined forces to nag us to death about getting married,” Pepper sighs, but there’s a fond smile on her face that betrays her.

“Trying to get you to set a date?”

Rhodey grins, “Trying to get me to propose, actually.”

“You proposed last month,” Tony frowns and looks down at her left hand, which is surprisingly bare. “I didn’t hallucinate that, did I?”

Pepper pulls her necklace out from where it was hidden beneath her collar. The ring sits on a delicate silver chain, diamond glittering in the sunlight for just a moment before she tucks it away again. She puts her index finger to her lips to tell him to keep it quiet, and Tony laughs.

“What did your innocent families do to deserve this?”

“There are no innocents in our families,” Rhodey says seriously. “We’re just buying ourselves some time until nagging me into proposing turns into everybody trying to plan our wedding for us.”

“My mother has terrible taste,” Pepper adds.

Waving from their families has turned into walking their way, and Tony gets sucked into the fold along with the two of them. He means to slip away after a few minutes, but no one lets that happen. Rhodey’s mom hugs him tightly and tells him he needs to eat more, followed immediately by how proud she is, and his cheeks turn pink under her attention. Somehow she wrangles him into joining them for the celebration dinner, but he can’t say that he minds much when he’s sitting with all of them. The laughter and stories take his mind off the melancholy feeling that’s been following him around lately, and it isn’t until he’s back in his quiet apartment much later in the day that he thinks about it again.

His hand twists into the chain around his neck, dog tags clinking together. They’re the first ones Steve got, back when he was newly enlisted after high school, and the letters are worn down beneath Tony’s thumb as he traces the shape of Steve’s name. He remembers that first time Steve put them around his neck and told him to keep them safe while he was gone. It was a promise to come back, and on the worst nights they’re both a comfort and a curse.

Leaning back against the closed door, he looks at the messy room in front of him. Finals week left him with little time for anything other than studying, and that coupled with his existing propensity for disorder, it looks a bit like a smaller tornado crossed through the apartment. Mugs stained with brown rings on the inside litter the coffee table, accompanied by pages of notes, pens, and uncapped highlighters. The blanket has fallen into a crumpled pile on the floor, and Tony is contemplating if he has the will to clean it all up when there’s a knock right behind his head.

He assumes it’s Rhodey and Pepper, here to decompress after finally untangling themselves from their families, and he turns around to open the door with a light-hearted remark already on his lips. Whatever it was leaves his mind immediately at what he finds instead.

“Hey, baby,” Steve smiles. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

Tony means to say something in return, but all that he actually manages is a choked out sob. He doesn’t fully realize he’s crying until Steve’s hands are on his cheeks to brush away the tears.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs, and Tony clutches at every part of him that he can reach. He grips the rough fabric of the fatigues, clings to his arms and shoulders and back, and he can’t possibly get close enough.

“You’re here,” Tony whispers when he eventually finds his breath again. “You’re here, you’re actually here.”

Steve’s hand strokes through his hair, and his other hand is holding on to Tony just as tight as Tony is holding on to him. “I’m here, baby.”

He isn’t sure how long they stand there like that, swaying slightly as they hang on to each other, but it must be quite a long while before he can let go again. Even then, though, he doesn’t let Steve go very far. They fall onto the couch in one tangled mess of limbs. Tony puts his chin on Steve’s chest to look at him, and Steve looks back with a soft smile that almost makes him want to cry again. There’s a small, faded scratch on Steve’s cheek that wasn’t there before, and Tony reaches out to trace it with the tip of his finger.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Tony says quietly, like if he speaks any louder, the lovely little bubble they’re in will break.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier,” Steve says again. “I really tried, but -”

Tony interrupts him with a shake of his head, “It’s okay. You’re here now.”

“I’ll be here for a while, I promise.”

Tony smiles, but there’s a dull, familiar ache in his chest at the thought that it will eventually come to end anyway. “How long do I have you for?”

Instead of answering, Steve shuffles a bit beneath him, hand worming its way into his pocket. He pulls out a folded paper and hands it to Tony, expression unreadable. Tony sits up a little to read it, and by the time he’s finished reading every single line to make sure it’s real, his hand is shaking.

“You - you’re - discharged?” Tony stammers out. “You’re done?”

Steve nods, grin slowly forming as he watches Tony process it. “Was sort of hoping that might make up for missing the ceremony this morning.”

Tony laughs, light and carefree in a way that he hasn’t felt in four years. He kisses Steve with everything he has, paper crinkling between them, and between one kiss and the next, Steve reassures, “I’m not leaving, sweetheart. Never leaving again.”

#stevetony #stony #superhusbands #my writing #prompts #prompt fill #my fic

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harrysweasleys · 4 years

Text

yellow sundress // f.w

summary: fred spots you at bill and fleur’s wedding and can’t keep you off his mind.

warnings: none

word count: 3.2k

a/n: let’s all pretend there’s no war and the wedding doesn’t end horribly, shall we? (for my own sanity, of course) :) xx enjoy!

—

Fred was happy for his brother, really. Bill was always the most mature of the Weasley clan — well, according to Molly, anyways. Always boasting about how Bill had his life in order and how he’d go on to do great things. So, although Fred grew up feeling slightly envious of his big brother, today he was happy. Happy for him and happy that there was finally something for the family to celebrate.

He had found himself rather excited the morning of the wedding. Him and George had spent the night at the burrow — Molly’s orders — so they could prepare and set up the tent bright and early. Arrangements for the wedding had been made very last minute indeed, so the panic and rush was still happening hours before the happy couple were to say ‘I do.’

The early morning grass was still wet with dew drops, shimmering like little diamonds under the hazy sunshine. The field was quiet except for the occasional caw of a bird or the screech of an insect.

Though sunny, it wasn’t overly warm. Fred found it just comfortable to wear a long sleeved shirt under his waistcoat, preventing goosebumps from rising on his skin every time the morning breeze rolled around. There wasn’t much heavy lifting to be done, thanks to magic, so Fred found himself sitting back with his brothers, only ever occasionally giving a lazy flick of his wand to pitch in.

“So, no date?” Ron walked up to Fred, crossing his arms across his chest and giving his brother a small smirk as they finished pinning the tent into the ground.

Fred scoffed, “Coming from you?”

Ron rolled his eyes, “You’re older than me, you need to get a move on. Maybe you’re next,” he joked, motioning his hands to the wedding preparations.

Fred fought the urge to smack him across the back of the head, “You hilarious little git.”

Ron’s laughter echoed in Fred’s ears, a taunting reminder that he indeed did not have someone in his life. Someone that he could have on his arm right now, someone that he could end up dancing the night away with. Although Fred teased Ron about his bad luck with women, he knew his little brother fancied Hermione, and she felt the same way back. It was only a matter of time before the two ran off into the sunset together, really.

Fred scoffed at the thought of his youngest brother getting married before him.

The tent was up and ready in no time, a few of the distant Weasley cousins and some old school friends of Bill’s already underneath it, setting up tables and chairs so that there was room for people to sit.

Molly called his name from inside the house, her head sticking out of the kitchen window and her arms waving wildly; a clear sign to Fred that he should rush over.

“What is it?” he asked as he entered through the doorway, ducking his head to avoid hitting one of the wooden beams hanging low by the kitchen entrance. A beam that he had whacked his heads so many times on when he was growing up that he was surprised his Boggart didn’t turn into it when he was still in school.

“Carry these out!” Molly huffed, shoving multiple large trays of goods into his arms, her hair sticking out all over the place and her apron stained with icing and different kinds of sauces.

Fred agreed, walking ever so slowly out of the house and placing the heavy, unbalanced trays on the closest table he could find, not wishing to spill anything and unleash his mother’s wrath so early in the day. He let out a long sigh as he looked around at the ongoing preparations, the sun now higher in the sky and making it easier to do things under the bright light.

Too occupied with watching over everything, he hadn’t noticed a body approach him and stand by his side.

“Fred Weasley, as I live and breathe,” a soft voice caught Fred out of his daze, blinking his eyes to refocus as he looked down to face the person who had nearly startled him.

You were standing there, hair tied back loosely and a bright smile on your face. You were wearing a light yellow sundress, a cardigan sitting on your shoulders as you held onto a small clutch purse. Though Fred didn’t know his perfumes, he could smell a sweet mixture of honey and rose coming from your direction. A smell that Fred, up until this point, never considered to be beautiful. But as he looked down at you, your expectant eyes awaiting an answer, Fred found that everything about you was beautiful.

“Do we know each other?” Fred asked lamely, internally rolling his eyes at himself. He had a feeling that if he had seen you before, he wouldn’t have forgotten.

Your smile changed from soft to amused, “I see I didn’t make a lasting impression,” Fred felt his own lips turn downwards into a frown as you let out a small giggle, “We went to Hogwarts together.”

He scanned you up and down trying to find anything that could spark recognition, but he failed, “Were we in the same year?”

You shook your head, “I was below you. The year below you, I mean. Not — I — you know what I meant. I’m Y/N.”

Fred felt a smile take over his face as you looked down to the ground, “It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

“Technically, we’ve met before,” you pointed out, a sly grin on your lips, “I was also there when the goblet of fire ejected you as an old man. Classic, really.”

Rubbing the back of his neck and laughing sheepishly, Fred cursed his younger self for acting like such a fool, “Not one of my brightest moments, I must admit.”

You let out a bubbly laugh and Fred swore he lost his breath.

“I found it amusing. Never dull, you two.”

A sense of pride buzzed in Fred’s chest, glad that he could make some amusing memories for you. Glad that you even remembered him. How Fred never noticed you while at school, he’ll never be able to answer.

“Well,” you adjusted your cardigan around yourself and gave him a little wave, “I’ll see you later. I’ve got to go help Fleur.”

Before he could bid you bye, you scurried off into the house. He heard you and Molly greet each other before the sound of your footsteps rushing up the stairs echoed throughout the house and through the open window.

A grin was still on Fred’s face long after you were gone. What it was about you, he didn’t know. But he couldn’t remember ever being so intrigued by a person before after such a short encounter. You had completely captivated him in the two minute conversation that was shared. Fred, who had made it this long without being in a serious relationship or committing to anyone, suddenly had an overwhelming urge to get to know you better.

—

Silent conversations bled throughout the seated crowd, everyone chatting quietly with the people around them as they awaited the ceremony to begin. Half of the people were familiar, but the other half were Fleur’s invites. People that none of the Weasley family had ever met — people who, as they scanned their surroundings, clearly still weren’t overly fond about having a wedding outside an old house in the middle of a field.

Old school friends gathered left and right, greeting each other and reminiscing about fond memories. Memories that, in this moment, felt so distant and gone. As if school was ages ago instead of only a year and a bit. A lot had changed over the course of twelve months

Without really knowing he was doing it, Fred’s bored eyes scanned the crowd, looking out for the familiar yellow dress. He had already greeted everyone that figured there was no point in getting up to talk if the ceremony was minutes away from starting.

“Looking for someone?” George poked him on the shoulder, a crooked smirk on his face. He couldn’t give a proper one — the bandage wrapped tightly around his head prevented him from doing so.

“Do you remember an Y/N when we were at Hogwarts?” Fred asked, eyes turning to his twin.

George nodded, “Yeah. Wasn’t she friends with Ginny and Luna?”

“Blimey, I need a better memory,” Fred frowned. He had never raked through his brain more than in the last hour, trying to find any sort of scrap, but had very little success.

“Why?” George wiggled his eyebrows, “Someone looking for her?”

Fred rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, not answering his brother. Not that he had the chance, really, as the scent of honey and rose filled his senses once again, your bright yellow dress catching his attention from the corner of his eye. He hadn’t even noticed the empty chair next to him, but as you took your seat there, he was thankful that it had been empty.

“Oh, hey,” you smiled, removing your cardigan and placing it on the back of your chair, “Were you saving this seat? Sorry, there’s nowhere else.”

“No,” Fred muttered quickly, “You can sit here.”

George let out a low chuckle and Fred imagined himself turning around and whacking him across the head. But, fortunately for George, the very image stayed in his mind.

The ceremony began shortly after, but Fred couldn’t focus much. Only when you nudged him in the side and told him to stand for Fleur’s entrance did he notice how zoned out he really was.

His cheeks and ears felt warm but he was lucky you didn’t notice, a wide grin on your face and your eyes slightly watery as you watched Fleur walk down the aisle, an equally happy Bill watching her every movement with such love in his eyes, even Fred couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming emotions.

They said their ‘I do’s’ and the ceremony came to a close an hour later, everyone clapping loudly.

You disappeared into the crowd and Fred made his way to the reception tent, finding his table and sitting with the rest of his siblings. The atmosphere was calm, soothing, and the music gave a pleasant echo of fun. Having not been to many weddings before — or any, really — Fred didn’t know what to expect. He thought it would be loud, chaotic, and people would be toppling over each other on the dance floor.

That, however, was not the case.

As the afternoon turned to early evening, a few couples had come and gone from the dance floor, a few meals had been eaten, and the music playlist continued to produce a good enough array of songs for Fred not to become overly bored. Molly had strongly suggested playing Celestina Warbeck and was still bitter that Fleur rejected her upfront, but she seemed to be enjoying the evening as she moved to the music on the dance floor alongside her husband.

“You gonna ask Hermione to dance?” George nudged Ron in the side, Fred chuckling at his younger brother’s clear discomfort.

Ron’s cheeks flared pink, “Blood hell, no. She’s with Krum.”

The three of them looked over to the centre of the tent where, in fact, Hermione was laughing and dancing with the Bulgarian seeker. The one that Fred had listened to Ron whine about for hours on end in his sixth year.

“Come on, Ronniekins. You could out dance him,” Fred smirked, teasing him.

Giving him the best glare he could muster, Ron grumbled, “Hope she steps on his big feet.”

Fred let out a small laugh and turned back to face the dance floor, his eyes immediately finding you. He tried telling himself it was due to your dress, but that was only because he didn’t want to admit how beautiful he found you. How he currently wanted nothing more than to rush over there and ask you to dance.

Odd, Fred thought, I’ve never wanted to dance with anyone.

“What about you Freddie?” Ron turned the attention away from him, “I see you eyeing her. Just go ask her to dance or I’ll go do it for you and I reckon I’d make it way more bloody awkward.”

Trying his best to act nonchalant, Fred grumbled, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, really?” George’s eyes sparkled with mischief and as much as Fred usually liked that, he didn’t like it so much right now, “Then you wont mind if I go talk to her—”

“Sit down, you git,” he snapped quietly, eyes darting away from where you were standing and chatting with Luna before he glared daggers at his two sniggering brothers, “Both of you need to shut it.”

“Just go,” George said, taking a sip of firewhisky, “Someone’ll snatch your spot.”

Fred took a deep breath and stood up, wishing to get away from his idiotic family. His heart was racing against his rib cage, uneasiness and nerves spreading throughout his entire body as he slowly walked towards the floor. He stopped to look at anything and everything along the way, stalling the interaction as much as possible. Asking Angelina to the ball had been casual — he never really fancied her the way one should fancy a date. It was more of a friendly thing. But as he looked over at you, your contagious laughter reaching his ears and your cheeks slightly pink, he realized that this was so very different. So very nauseating.

“Fred,” you smiled up at him, catching Fred off guard. He hadn’t even noticed that he walked up to you, but as he heard George muttering behind him, he realized his twin probably gave him a good shove in your general direction.

“Hi,” he smiled down at you, “Hello, Luna.” He greeted your friend, who gave him a dreamy wave before stalking off through the crowd with a smile on her face.

“She’s had a lot of gigglewater,” you informed him, “Told me about seven times that she thought I looked like Pygmy puff.”

Fred found himself laughing, “I don’t think you look like one. I don’t remember Pygmy puffs being so stunning — and I’d know, Ginny had one of those little rats.”

Your eyes widened and your smiled faltered just a tad, “You think I’m stunning?”

“Yeah,” Fred suppressed his nerves the best that he could, “I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to dance.”

He saw you take a deep breath, placing your glass down on the nearest table before holding out your hand, “I’d love to.”

Your hand was warm as it laced in with his, a sudden wave of confidence flowing over him at the contact.

He led you out to the dance floor, your body close to his as you linked your arms behind his neck, his hands holding your waist. He felt his breath stutter as your fingers grazed the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck, his lips curling up into a satisfied smile.

“Do you know how to dance?” you asked, looking down at your feet as you actively avoided stepping on his feet, the two of you slowly beginning to sway to the music.

“Nope,” Fred grinned, “Winging it.”

You chuckled, tossing a loose strand of hair out of your face before gazing back up at him, “Apologies in advance if I step on your feet—”

Right as you said that, Fred felt the tip of your shoe dig into the top of his foot. Your eyes shot wide open and you stepped back, tensing up.

“I am so sorry!”

Fred removed a hand from your waist and pressed it over his heart, “You wounded me, woman.”

Guilt left your face and you broke into another fit of giggles, stepping close to him once again, your hands finding their spot at the back of his neck as you muttered another apology. Fred couldn’t remember ever dancing like this with anyone before. Though you two were currently only friends — if even that — he felt like your movements were intimate, close, and he wanted to continue dancing with you until the sun was gone and rising back up again.

“You’re such a dork,” you laughed, resting your head against his chest. He was tall enough that you could do so without leaning over. Fred hoped to Godric that you couldn’t hear how violently his heart was beating.

“I’ve been told,” he chuckled, the vibrations causing you to pull away and smile up at him.

He stared down into your eyes, his own face falling into a serious trance. As cliche as it was, he felt as if the two of you were alone. That the wedding had died down and the dance floor was meant for you and you alone. That no one could ruin this little moment. He could smell your intoxicating perfume and it was rendering his mind slightly blank.

Fred Weasley didn’t fall for anyone in one day. Especially someone that he had never met before. But here he was, the only thing on his mind being that he wanted to dance the night and morning away with you. That he wanted to take you to dinner. To bring you to the shop.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, a tone of inquisition in your voice as you peered up at him.

“You,” he replied, stopping in his step completely when he heard himself, “I — that came off awfully weird.”

“It came off awfully sweet,” you stopped dancing with him, smiling brightly, “For someone who doesn’t remember me, you sure seem to be warming up rather quickly. I’m not complaining, though.”

Fred had never been happier for his boldness than in this exact moment.

“Coffee?” you asked, beginning to move to the music once more, Fred following in your step. He found himself stumbling over his feet just a bit, but he played it off well enough that he was certain you hadn’t even noticed.

“I like coffee but it’s a little late now,” he smirked to himself, knowing what you meant but deciding to tease you just a tad.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully, “Oi, you know what I meant.”

He chuckled, cheeks hurting from how much smiling he had done this evening, “Of course I do. But here, let me ask. Y/N, would you accompany me to dinner and coffee tomorrow night?”

You pretended to ponder, the tips of your ears slightly redder than they were a few seconds ago, “I would need to check my schedule but I believe I’m free.”

“Good,” Fred grinned, heart doing a summersault in his chest as you beamed up at him, your body pressed against his as the two of you continued to get lost in each other.

Luckily for Fred, you were too busy focused on him to notice Ron and George shooting thumbs up your way, their knowing grins taunting Fred from across the dance floor. But, as Fred looked down at you, he thought he didn’t really care.

After all, Fred Weasley has a date.

—

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#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley one shots #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fics #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert

776 notes · View notes

fandomscombine · 4 years

Text

Baseless Jealousy

Oliver Wood Cousin!Reader x Jealous!Fred Weasley

WC:2307

BG: Fred and y/n’s relationship is currently 3 years long strong. After a summer apart, it seems to be a 3rd party had become closer to y/n. Is it something that Fred has to worry about or is it just baseless jealousy?

a/n: The pairing the won for this fic is Oliver Wood Cousin!Reader x Jealous! Fred Weasley, Thanks so much for voting!

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

You and Fred started dating 3 years ago. Fred would like to believe that the relationship is strong, other people believes it so too. However ever since the start of 5th year, something started to get on his nerves, or should he say someone.

See, Fred had noticed you getting closer to his Quidditch captain, Oliver wood. He didn’t want to blame it on the summer you two spent apart but he could quite help himself. You had spent the entire apart, no letters whatsoever. At first, he tried to be understanding, it was after all a summer you and your family spent in Italy while attending your aunt’s wedding, you had told him that this was the first time in 8 years that the whole side of your mother’s family was present as they were all scattered into various parts of the world. He understood the importance of family so he had let it slide that you and he hadn��t communicated in the past 2 months- besides, it must be really exhausting to overwork the owls to post cross country.

Which was why he was so excited to finally see you in person at Platform 9 ¾ on the first of September, to his dismay, you had arrived with Oliver Wood. Back then he had pushed his jealousy aside and concluded as a coincidence that you had turned up together at the barrier. You and Oliver are just friends, he told himself, and that was completely fine.

Fred had sneaked a hug behind you and whispered into your ear. ‘Had a great summer?’

You had jumped at the touch but once you realised who is was from you relaxed. ‘Ohh Freddie!’ You turned and hit his chest. ‘Don’t scare me like that!’ Earning a laugh from him. ‘I did, I had such great times catching up with my cousins! You wouldn’t believe how much trouble we almost got into. But of course.’ Your fingers played with the back of his head. ‘I missed having my love around.’

‘Hey love I’m off to Quidditch practice now.’ Fred informed, kissing your cheek. ‘Will you be there?’ Ever since you and Fred got together 3 years ago, you would go cheer him on during Quidditch practices whenever you can.

This year however, more are at stake.

During the semi-finals, Quidditch matches are dotted with professional quidditch team mangers in hopes to scout for potential recruits to join their team upon graduation.

It is rumoured that the manager for Puddlemere United would be attending the next match, Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor. Puddlemere United being Oliver’s favourite and dream team, he had been pushing the team with more frequent trainings then ever, hoping to perform the best game they would ever play, to further increase his chances to chosen to be part of the team.

You looked up from the letter you were writing. ‘Yep, just gotta make a quick stop to the owlery. I’ll soon you soon okay?’

Arriving at the owlery, a large parcel instantly caught your eye. ‘Oh mum..’ Examining for any potential damage, which thankfully weren’t any.

The barn owl nearest it hooted. ‘Alright! Alright! I was looking if there were damages.’ The owl flapped its wings in annoyance. ‘Here,’ offering your owl some treats. ‘You’ll need to store up some energy on the way back.’ Another hoot sounded, this time from a grey owl, that you recognised belonged too your mother. ‘There’s some for you too.’ After the 2 owls finished their food, you attached your letter your owl’s leg. ‘This is for mother, a thank you note on behalf of Ollie. I’ll write another when we see his reaction to this-I can’t wait.’ You bid the 2 birds goodbye, watching until they disappear unto the horizon.

Now you turn to face your major problem. You had thought that your mother would have had it placed in a box, rather what you got was a large parcel that is clearly wrapped with parchment, with no subtlety in hiding what it truly is.

You had finally manged to sneak the parcel into the Gryffindor boys’ locker room, though it had taken a lot more effort than you thought.

You were just leaving when you had bumped into someone.

‘oopf! Sorr-‘

‘y/n love! What are you doing here?’ Fred wondered, looking over your shoulder, trying to figure out what you were up to. ‘You missed the whole practice.’

‘ohh it’s nothing really----Ayyeee! Not so fast!’ You grabbed Harry’s shoulder, preventing him in enter any further. In all honestly, you hadn’t hidden Oliver’s surprise well, there aren’t a lot of hiding places in the changing room. Determined to not ruin the surprise, you need, you must get Oliver to see it first. ‘Had any of you seen Oli-‘

Right then you heard his unmistakably Scottish accent. ‘I’m just saying George, with this new and improve game plan, we are for sure going win the House Cup!’

‘Oliver!’ You shouted, pushing your boyfriend and Harry aside to reach him. ‘Come quick, I’ve got something to show you!’ With all your strength you hauled him to move faster.

‘What is it now y/n? Can’t you see I’m……..’ Oliver had come to a stop. Based on his sudden lack of complaining, you knew he spotted it.

‘It’s a gift from mum and dad. We thought it would future help your chances to be in the professional league.’ You noted. ‘I wasn’t sure which one of these was your locker, so I decided to just hide it behind the benches.’

Oliver hurriedly torn away the wrappings. ‘Oh my…. y/n! A FIREBOLT!’ He turned towards his teammates with eyes watery. ‘A FIREBOLT, A 1993 EBONY WOOD WITH BIRCH TWIGS FIREBOLT!’ He declared with glee.

Too caught up in your cousin’s precious reaction to your gift, you however had failed to noticed Fred displeasure.

‘I think I’m gonna be sick. So much for a girlfriend.’ He grumbled to George. ‘Excuse me.’ Shoving his broom to Harry, Fred walked out of the locker room.

The next thing you knew, you were spinning through the air. Oliver had lifted you in celebration, ‘Thank you y/n thank you so much!’ He mumbled into your hair. ‘Pass on my gratitude to Aunty and Uncle.’

‘Wait? Did you just say Aunty and Uncle?’ voiced a very confused Harry.

‘Yea.’ Confirmed Oliver. ‘Y/n is my cousin.’

George’s bafflement turned into a startle. ‘You’re joking right?’

‘No, why would be joking George?’ You frowned. ‘Didn’t you know?’

‘Nope’ He replied, popping the “p”. ‘Now it clears everything up. Freddie is going to be--.’

‘Speaking of, where is Freddie?’ You scanned around, wondering where he might have gone to. Which was when you spotted Harry holding up not one but two brooms. ‘Harry…’

‘y/n listen…..Freddie is uhh ’ George was trying to come up how to break it to you gently.

When Harry blurted out. ‘He left.’

‘He whot?’ demanded Oliver.

‘He left, said something about being sick of his girlfriend.’ Commented Harry frankly. ‘owhh!’

Even though it would have been too late to stop Harry from spitting out more wrongfully worded sentences- the damaged has been done- It still made George happy to put some sense into him. Praying that a smack on the head would have made Harry shut up, George took control of the situation, hoping it could still salvage the weakening remain of his twin’s and y/n relationship.

‘Listen y/n. Regarding my idiot brother, you got to know that he, like everyone else in the room, had thought that you and Oliver were flirting with each other.’

‘eww!’ You couldn’t control your reflex.

‘yeah, his emotions got to the best of him when he witnessed everything that got down here and stormed out because of jealousy.’

‘Oh gosh.’ You head towards the door, you could see a red figure walking towards the castle, kicking at fallen leaves every now and then. ‘I’ve got to get to him.’

You felt someone grab your arm ‘No let me handle this y/n.’ voiced Oliver. ‘I’m part of this… complication after all, besides I bet Fred’s fuming right now and as your older cousin, I am willing to take the heat and make him see reason until he has finally calmed down to talk to you with a clear head.’ He explained reassuringly.

‘But---

‘No buts.’ Oliver kissed your forehead. ‘Stay here and send for him back so all this misunderstanding could be sorted out. Now…’ he addressed Harry to get his new firebolt. ‘I’ve got a relationship to fix.’ Oliver hopped on the broom and sped away.

‘Fred! Fred!’ Screamed Oliver.

Fred choose to ignore him, picking up his pace.

Leaving Oliver with no choice but to cut him off.

‘WEASLEY!’ Oliver jumped off his broom.

‘Get Out of My Way Wood!’ Fred raised his hand to shove the other boy away but met with resistance. ‘I SAID GET OUT!’ Fred tried to free his fist from Oliver’s grasp, but the older boy was much stronger.

‘Not until you calm down and listen to what I have to say.’

‘Fine.’ Oliver let go of him, he raised his arms high in surrender. ‘y/n sent you, didn’t she?’

‘No. I came here on my own will. I told her to stay behind to protect her.’ Oliver confessed.

‘To protect her?’ scoffed Fred. ‘From what? From me?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact.’

‘Oh of course, it’s HER who needs protecting and not me. Not me, after I see you both shamelessly act so close to one another, closer, might I tell you then her own boyfriend! If was as if I wasn’t there’

‘Fred,’

Fred brushed his hand away, ignoring Oliver’s interruption. ‘When did you two get so close anyway? You know at first, I tried to pass it off as friendship but as time when on, I could help but think-‘

‘Y/N IS MY COUSIN!’ blurted Oliver, unable to hear another person thinking that they were other than family. ‘THERE’S NOTHING GOING ON BETWEEN US!’

‘what?’

‘Apparently for some reason most of you lot don’t know. George and Harry were just as surprised too. But yes, y/n is my cousin, on my father’s side. My father and her mother are brothers and sisters. I thought with all these years we’ve known each other that you’d know we’re related. Guess I was wrong.’

‘I….I didn’t know.. I’m sorry.’

‘Apology accepted but we both know there is someone more deserving of hearing that apology.’ Oliver nodded towards the locker room. ‘She’s there waiting.’

‘Thank you, Oliver.’ He held out his hand. ‘Friends?’

‘Friends’ Oliver shook his hand, the stared straight into his eyes. ‘BUT…’

‘but?’

‘But if you hurt her again Weasley, you have me to answer for, that is of course after she’s done her share.’ Without another word, Oliver flew off, testing out his new gift.

Fred ran full speed ahead, praying that he didn’t completely ruin a wondering 3-year relationship with the girl of his dreams. Before entering the room, he conjured up a bouquet of your favourite flowers, hoping that could help out his image.

Testing the waters, he called. ‘y/n? are you in here love?’

‘In here’ you sighed. He hated hearing you so sad. He hated it more that it was him causing you to feel that way.

Cautiously he made his way to you with arms outstretched. You accepted the flowers, to that he let himself relax a bit, bringing them up to you nose, you noted. ‘They smell nice, thank you.’

Fred was grateful that you hadn’t scolded him off on his baseless jealousy, still he knew he had to apologize and win his girl back. Kneeling in front where you sat, Fred took your hands and poured out his heart.

‘Y/n, I am sorry. I made a huge mistake, I… I got jealous of how you had gotten close to Oliver this year.’ He confessed.’ Ever since the start of this year, I thought that Oliver was stealing you away from me. I thought that perhaps you two had something going on behind my back.’

Chuckling to himself he continued. ‘I didn’t even realise that you were cousins until he told me just now. I feel so stupid. 3 years together, 5 years of knowing you. It was so obvious.’ Fred closed his eyes.

‘Still, with my worries, I should have asked, asked what you and Oliver were.’ He stressed. ‘I should have come and talked to you, to sort this out like what a, healthy, trusting and understanding relationship would. But instead I keep all my doubts and insecurities brew, I went deep into my own conclusions that were without evidence, I let my jealousy get the best of me.’

Fred brought your knuckles to his lips. ‘y/n love, I’m sorry. I love you and if you want a space, I understand. But there is no a day in this world where I would not rather be back in your loving arms. I hope that you could forgive me.’

‘Freddie, I forgive you.’ You cup his tear stained cheek. ‘It was just a stupid misunderstanding.’

Gesturing for him to sit beside you ‘I thought it was common knowledge that Oliver and I are cousins. Apparently not. Yes, we weren’t that close before.’ You admitted. ‘But we really did get to know each other in the summer. 5 weeks either being sounded by adult relatives or small children, we hung out often, being the only 2 cousins similar in age.’

You return back into a more serious tone. ‘Of course, I did wish you had voiced it out, we could have avoided this conflict altogether. So, promise me this. Whatever problems may arise, before we delved into our own assumptions, we would always talk it out. Alright?’

‘I promise.’

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1

Tagging also all those who voted for the~Oliver Wood Cousin!Reader x Jealous!Fred Weasley~ Thank you! @jenniweaslee @ najiler @ im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @ gweaslvy and the lovely anons!

#fred weasley x reader #oliver wood x reader #fred weasley imagine #oliver wood imagine #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #oliver wood imagines #fandomscombine writes

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bqstqnbruin · 3 years

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Always be my plus one - part 3

Ok, look, it's 4 am, there are going to be typos, and we're just going to have to deal with it. I also tried to find a gif that was Tyson and Cale but I couldn't find one in the gif insert thing on here so I just went with this one (it feels weird to change it up but like, oops)

I make no promises that you aren't going to be mad at me for this part so have fun !

This is shorter than the last part, coming in at around 5k words.

The only warnings I have here are implied sex.

Translations for the Italian in here: "tu sei uno stronzo" - you're an ass(hole)

stronzino - little asshole

Also want to thank @justjosty @zinka8 @hockeylvr59 @hockeywocs anons and I'm sure I'm forgetting people for helping me write this part but ily all I'm just dumb and tired

Read the previous part here!

Series masterlist

____________________

Valentine’s Day

The Feast Day of St. Valentine is traditionally celebrated in the Western Catholic Church on February 14, to honor the patron saint of love. Though not traditionally celebrated as a Catholic holiday, millions of people celebrate the day of love with those who mean the most to them. While pessimists of the day say it’s a ‘holiday made up by greeting card companies,’ approximately 190 million Valentine’s Day cards are sent in the United States alone, not including cards given by school children to their classmates. Couples enjoy the holiday with a romantic night out, presents, flowers, chocolates, etc., while those who don’t have someone or don’t care do whatever they want without the pressure of living up to a holiday that doesn’t mean very much in the grand scheme of things.

=============

February 12, 2022

“Where are you going tonight?” Matthew’s voice came through his younger sister’s phone. He had called early in the week to see if Anne could babysit Harper so he and Stephanie could do something for Valentine’s Day without having to shell out an extravagant amount of money on a sitter.

“I’m, uh,” Anne hesitates, “going out with Tyson. Sorry.” She hears Matthew let out a sigh on the other end. “Hey, stronzo, why don’t you ask Lucy? Her and Jason never do anything on Valentine’s Day.”

Matthew starts talking about how the last time he asked Lucy last minute to watch his daughter, despite their girls being best friends, she ended up going on a fifteen-minute rant. While Anne gets her heels on, staring at herself in the mirror and admiring the floor-length, red dress she had on the slit going up the side for no one but herself, Matthew continues to tell her about how his twin goes on and on about needing a schedule at all times, how she can’t just drop everything in a moment’s notice because he wants to do something with his wife.

“Hey, Matthew,” she cuts him off, trying to shrug her coat on, “Why didn’t you ask Lucy or Sebby after I said no earlier this week?”

“Because I didn’t think you actually had plans.”

“Again, tu sei uno stronzo.”

“I am not an ass!” he detests.

“Fine, you’re a stronzino, happy?” Anne hears him stammer again, not letting him get a word in, “I have to go, I’ll talk to you later, ok? Ask Ma, Dad’s off in Florida right now so she would probably love to have Harper for the night.”

He lets out another sigh, Stephanie’s voice coming through in the background despite Anne’s inability to understand what she was saying. “Fine. Have fun with Tyson. I don’t need another niece or nephew around Halloween, though, ok?”

“Don’t be gross,” she says, hanging up and finally heading out the door.

Her cousin Adriana was getting married to her soon-to-be wife, Izzy. Her family had no idea that she was the only one who still talked to them, her mother having a fight with her brother after their parents died when Anne and her siblings were younger and vowing to never talk to him again. So far, the stubbornness that seems to run through her mom’s blood going strong since it had been over a decade since she had last seen her brother. Anne was invited to Uncle Frankie’s daughter’s wedding, but no one else in her family.

Adriana and Izzy had this Valentine’s Day-themed wedding, everyone asked to wear red or pink in theme with the holiday, Anne not doubting that there would be paper hearts and cut-out cupids as the decor. The wedding gift she bought them, one of the first things she found on their registry that Anne could afford, was shipped to the apartment they already shared two weeks ago, Anne just needing to remember the card.

She was fully prepared to just sit in the corner with a bunch of people she didn’t know and watch as her cousin got married to the love of her life. Anne wasn’t sure that that side of her family would recognize her after how many years, guaranteeing her to spend her time on the sideline.

Anne slips into the back of the church, seeing no one she knew or recognized to even go up to and sit with them. Everyone was dressed in red, pink, and black. A bit too much for her own taste, but at least she looked good in red and would have worn the color anyway. ‘Note to self, no themed weddings,’ Anne thinks, not particularly fond of the lack of color or real choice that everyone had in figuring out what to wear.

A blonde boy in a red suit walks by her, too far past her to get a good look at him. There was something about him that caught her attention. Anne knew that walk, but she had no idea where she knew it from. It didn’t stop her from admiring him from afar, though, the short blonde hair and the obviously fit physique under the suit captivated her for whatever reason, leaving her practically unable to pay attention to the ceremony in front of her. Not that she cared, at this point she was just there to enjoy the free food she knew would be good at the reception later.

Anne sat at the table against the wall, her cousin not bothering to make a seating chart and just leaving it up to the guests to sit where they pleased. That meant she didn’t have to talk to anyone she didn’t want to, being virtually left alone at a wedding where she knew no one.

“Anne?” a familiar voice snaps her out of the trance she fell into watching Ana’s sister and brother-in-law, Catie and Danny dancing with their two daughters, remembering seeing their pictures on Facebook when they were born, not realizing how much they had grown.

She turns to the man in the red suit who had her attention throughout the ceremony. “Cale?” she smiles at him, not sure how the two had missed they would be at the same wedding this weekend. Since New Year's Eve, the two of them had been texting, calling, FaceTiming, they had hung out, spent the night with each other, Cale insisting he buy her dinner at least once a week. The only reason they weren’t dating each other was because neither of them had said they were. They both said they were busy this weekend, but who would have thought they would end up at the same place. “What are you doing here?”

“Izzy’s brother and I grew up playing hockey together. I grew up with her. What are you doing?” he asks her, taking the seat next to her.

“Ana’s my cousin. Her dad is my mom’s older brother.”

Cale smiles at her, Anne’s heart racing at the sight of it. “So I get to meet your family?”

Anne shakes her head. “I’m the only one here,” she tells him, explaining the family drama that went on between Frankie and Teresa.

Cale looks down at his lap, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his suit jacket. The red bowtie, red pants, red jacket even against the black shirt were so much Anne couldn’t tell if his cheeks were red because of the reflection of his clothes or for another reason. “Tyson’s met your family, hasn’t he?”

She nods, taking his hand in hers. “I told you, Tyson and I are just friends. I needed someone to come with me to a family thing, so he came with me.” Cale nods, not entirely sure that something wasn’t up with her and Tyson. Something was off, there was something he was sure Anne was leaving out, but he wasn’t sure. “Hey, I’ve seen Tyson, what, three times since New Year's? All of them when I was with you. I like you, Cale.”

Cale leans over for a kiss, his hand grazing Anne’s thigh, sending a shiver down her spine. “How about we dance like we did on New Year's?” he asks, standing from the seat, shrugging off the red jacket before he extended his hand out to her.

She rolls her eyes, getting up with him anyway. “I told you then, too, that I don’t like dancing.”

“And yet,” he says, pulling her close, his hand finding the small of her back while he presses his forehead against hers, gazing into her eyes, “you danced with me all night then, and you got up to dance with me tonight.”

Anne laughs, knowing he was right, burying her face in his shoulder, swearing she heard some camera’s clicking, probably the wedding photographer hanging around somewhere and taking pictures of the guests dancing.

“I know I have to say this about the brides when they come in,” Cale whispers in her ear, “but you are the most beautiful girl here.”

Anne could feel herself blushing, her mind flashing back to New Year’s Eve when Tyson told her she looked beautiful. He seemed so genuine saying it, Anne thinking back and not sure if he meant it or was actually pretending. But with Cale, she knew. Cale meant it. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she tells him, ghosting his lips before kissing him.

Being with Cale felt fine. Not perfect, but fine. It was right, but not correct, and Anne couldn’t figure out why.

Everyone starts clearing off the dance floor, the bridal party getting ready to come in. Cale takes Anne’s hand and leads her back to the table where he left his jacket, some other people finding their home base at the same table. Cale knew one of the men at the table, probably from their little hockey group that involved Izzy’s brother. The bridesmaids and bridesmen, as the DJ put it, started coming in, Cale leaning back with his arm slung around the back of Anne’s chair. She leaned back into him, his fingertips dancing up and down her arm as they watched everyone come in.

They watched Ana and Izzy dance their first one as wives, Anne’s stomach starting to make noise as they waited for the food to come.

Cale leans over, nervous about what he was about to whisper in her ear. “Are you hungry for food or maybe something more?”

Anne felt her entire body go numb at his words. They had been seeing each other for a month and a half already, so was what he was insinuating really that strange of an idea? “That depends.”

“On?” he asks, nibbling on her ear before kissing the skin right behind it, losing any sense of care over who at their table was potentially watching.

“On how long you think we need to wait before we can slip out without it being rude?”

Cale inhaled sharply, wishing he could say right now. “At least until they cut the cake. Unless,” he says, his hand moving up her thigh, slowly in case she decided she wanted it to stop, “Unless you wanted to try to find somewhere to sneak away to now.”

“Not for our first time,” she tells him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “And not with my family around,” she laughs.

“I’m fine with that,” he tells her, kissing her. “Your place or mine, though?”

“Well, I drove myself here.”

“And I got a ride.”

Anne smiles, crossing her legs in hopes that whatever she felt would be stifled by that simple action. “So it looks like it’s going to be mine.”

They spent the rest of the night waiting for the moment the cake was cut so they could leave as planned, Cale’s hand never leaving her leg unless he really needed both hands to do something.

Anne could feel her heart racing as she watched Ana and Izzy smash their cake in each other’s face, Anne looking over to Cale and smiling. “You wanna go?” she asks, her keys already out of her bag and in her hand.

Cale drags her out without saying a word, Anne leading him to her car. He walks over to the driver’s side, his arms wrapped around her waist with her back pressed against her car. “You’re sure about this?” he asks her, his eyes flicking between hers and her lips.

“Yeah,” she says, kissing him before he opens the door for her. She couldn’t wait to get home, sure she broke a few traffic laws as she sped back to her apartment with Cale sitting next to her in the passenger seat, his leg shaking the entire time.

They got to the elevator, Cale leaning against her against the wall with his lips pressed against hers, Anne’s hands already working to unbutton his shirt. Cale’s kisses trailed down her jaw to her collarbone, his grip tightening on her waist.

Anne pulled away to lead him down the hallway, practically running, partially due to anticipation for what they were about to do, and because Anne could feel a breeze on her back, indicating that Cale had already unzipped her dress. That, coupled with the fact that Cale’s shirt was already open, his jacket in his free hand, Anne had no desire for any of her neighbors to be given the chance to see her and however Cale was to her already getting naked before closing the door.

As soon as she unlocked her door, Cale had her turned back around, kicking the door closed as he carried her to her bedroom, Anne able to feel everything about him against her body. Cale laid her down on her bed, his lips never leaving hers as he positioned himself over her, sliding her dress off while she did the same with his shirt. Anne’s breath hitched at the sight of him, his body perfect while he stared her down, the first time she saw the typically innocent boy she had been seeing with a mischievous grin covering his face, his eyes darkening at the thought of doing what they had both been wanting to do all night.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks one more time.

Anne nods, taking his face in her hands. “Yes, Cale. I’m sure.”

=============

February 13, 2022

Anne woke up the next morning, the events of the night before rushing back despite finding the space he had occupied in her bed empty. Her dress was on the floor, Cale’s red bowtie somehow having ended up on her night stand. Maybe he left it there as an excuse to see her again, making a mental note to put it in the living room so she would remember it the next time she saw him.

He had slipped out at some point that morning, Anne playing the voicemail that he left her while she slipped on a t-shirt to cover herself. “Hey, Anne. Sorry, I couldn’t stay, but morning skate was calling. I,” she hears him sigh, knowing he had a stupid grin on his face for whatever it was he was about to say, “I can’t wait to have another night like last night with you.”

It was her turn to have the stupid smile on her face as Cale continues, “Um, anyway, I’ve got something going on with JT and some of the other guys tomorrow for Valentine’s Day, a, uh, charity thing? I think? So would you be free this weekend for a proper date for the holiday? You know, not as crowded, not as much pressure, ideally the same outcome, if you’ll allow it? Oh, hey Tyson,” she hears him say, figuring that he was calling her on the way into the rink despite her being unable to hear Tyson. “Yeah, I’m planning Valentine’s Day with Anne. No, not tomorrow night, this weekend. Uh, Anne, I’ve gotta go, but let me know about, say, Friday night? Alright, talk to you later. Bye.”

Valentine’s Day date with Cale? Part two, more like, but still. Anne liked the sound of that.

“So, uh,” Tyson starts, already dreading what he was about to hear from his teammate given what he had heard him say into his phone. “You and Anne?”

“Yeah,” Cale breathes out, chuckling at the thought of what happened last night. “We, um,” Cale couldn’t even get a full sentence out, acting like a child who just got the toy he had been begging his parents for on Christmas morning. He couldn’t remember the last time he was that happy. “We spent the night together last night. I left from her place this morning.”

More of their teammates were filtering into the locker room, looking at Cale’s face turn bright red while Tyson stood there with him looking like he just about wanted to die. “Ok, but did you spend the night, or spend the night?” Ryan asks.

Cale started to stammer out nonsense, not really wanting to divulge the private details of his and Anne’s night despite the guys teasing him and congratulating him for what he wasn’t saying.

“Guys, keep it civil. Anne wouldn’t want us talking about any of this,” Tyson pipes in, Cale letting out a sigh of relief as the guys disperse to get ready for morning skate.

“Thanks,” Cale tells him, going off on his own to get his gear on.

JT appears by Tyson’s side, a stupid smirk on his face. “Would Anne not want us talking about anything, or would you not want us talking about anything?”

“Well, Anne definitely wouldn’t.”

“Oh, come on, we both know Cale would never.”

“Doesn’t mean I want him to have the chance.”

“You’re treading in deep water, dude,” JT sighs.

Tyson looks at him, hating that he knew what he meant. He had barely seen Anne, despite her brother’s texts from the night before asking if Anne really couldn’t watch Harper because of the two of them going out, Tyson going along with the lie just in case. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“It seems like you don’t know what you want from Anne, either,” JT shrugs. “But Cale does, and he got it.”

=============

February 14, 2022

12 hour shifts were the only shifts Anne knew. And they were the shifts that Anne detested the most. She was fine the first ten hours, but the last two always seemed to suck more than anything, leaving her exhausted for the rest of the day, into the night, depending on when she got home in the first place.

All she wanted to do was order dinner from the Thai place down the street, having it delivered despite her really not needing to since it was within walking distance, plop herself on her couch and watch whatever reality TV Lucy had texted her that she thought Anne would like. Anne knew she would turn it off after a single episode and switch to Food Network, but at least she could tell her sister she tried.

Anne walks to her apartment, dragging her feet to her door when she sees someone sitting on the ground, his head down looking at his phone. “Tyson?”

He gets up, grabbing the two bags he had with him as the smell of food filled her nose. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my fake girlfriend,” he says, raising the bags while Anne opens the door to let him in.

“I’m confused,” she tells him as he sets everything down.

“Well, Matthew called me on Saturday asking if the two of us were sure we couldn’t watch his daughter, and I figured he might as well have some sort of photographic evidence as proof of us spending Valentine’s Day together,” Tyson explains. “So, I figured I’d go all out: flowers, dinner, and a present. You know, really convince them that we’re together.”

Anne stares at him for a second, not sure why her heart was racing at the thought of him going out of his way to keep up this facade with her family. “I don’t think I like that you and Matthew are so ‘buddy-buddy.’ Or that fact that he didn’t believe me the first two times I told him I was busy on Saturday night. And I thought that you guys had a charity thing tonight?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Tyson asks, handing her the container of food as she joined him on the couch, the Thai food she was planning on ordering right in front of her. “We have a groupchat. Yeah, it’s me, Sebby, Lucy, and Matthew.”

Anne scoffs, rolling her eyes at his failed attempt at a joke. “And let me guess: you gossip about me the entire time.”

“Actually,” he says, his mouth full of food, “you never come up. They think of me as the fourth sibling. The name Anne means nothing.”

Anne laughs, Tyson admiring the way her eyes closed as her smile grew. God, he wished he had gotten to her before Cale did. Why did he have to leave her alone at all on New Year’s Eve? If he were by her side the entire night like he had wanted to be, then he wouldn’t have to pretend to be her boyfriend, he could actually be getting somewhere with her.

“Hm,” Anne hums, swallowing her mouthful of food. “You said flowers and a present. When do I get those?”

“You can get them now on the condition that I can take a video to send to your siblings,” he offers, pulling out his phone and pushing the bag with the flowers and gift behind him. Anne rolls her eyes, smiling and nodding while he starts the video. He hands her the card first. “Read it.”

Anne pulls it out of the envelope, glitter getting everywhere and making her cringe, knowing that it would be impossible to get off her scrubs later on. It was covered with roses and hearts, bringing her right back to the wedding that weekend. “No one has ever made me feel like this. To the woman I love: Happy Valentine’s Day,” Anne reads, feeling a lump forming in her throat. The card was so corny, a little too corny for her taste, but coming from Tyson, she didn’t know why she loved it. She shakes her head, laughing at Tyson. “I love you, too,” she lies.

Tyson swallows hard at her words, wishing she meant them, pulling out the flowers from the bag and handing them to her. She looks down at the flowers, trying to figure out what they are before looking up at him. “Queen Anne’s Lace?”

“Queen Anne’s Lace for my Queen, Anne,” he tells her, cringing at his own words.

Anne giggles, placing them in her lap. “And my favorite flowers, anyway. Thank you, Tyson.”

“Wait, I have one more thing,” he says, hoping that the camera wasn’t shaking too much while he reached for the gift he bought her.

He hands it to her, a small red box wrapped with a gold bow. She unties it carefully, opening the box and gasping at the sight of it. A golden necklace with a white enamel heart as the charm, a golden pattern outlining the heart. “Tyson, it’s,” she starts, unable to find the words, “it’s beautiful.”

He stops the recording, figuring he had enough to hit send to his ‘girlfriend's' siblings. “Let me put it on you,” he says, Anne turning around and moving her hair out of the way. “I thought you would like it.”

Anne studies his face, the smile plastered on it despite her knowing that he didn’t mean it. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He shrugs, grabbing his food off the table and staring at it now in his lap. “It was fun. I’ve never had a girlfriend who I could buy presents like this for. I mean, I still don’t, but I have you.”

“Oh, come on. You, Tyson Jost, have never had a girlfriend? Look at you,” she says, praying that she was careful with the words she chose. “You’re gorgeous, you’re sweet, you’re funny, you get along with everyone you meet.”

Tyson hated hearing Anne go on about him, knowing that she was just saying it as a friend instead of something more. He scoffs, trying to save face from whatever pain or other emotion he was feeling. “Come on,” he says, not believing her anyway.

“I’m serious!” she insists, reaching up and starting to fidget with her new necklace. “Any girl would be lucky to have you as her boyfriend. I’m lucky to even have you as a fake boyfriend.”

Tyson nods, turning his body to face the TV instead of Anne. “So what are we watching?” he asks, changing the subject and putting his feet up on the table, Anne doing the same.

“Whatever’s on Food Network?” she suggests, holding the remote in the air pointed at the TV.

The two of them settle in, Tyson not paying attention to the show she had turned on. “Hey, what’s that?” Tyson asks, racing over to the red fabric that was on Anne’s coffee table.

“Oh,” Anne blushes, taking it from Tyson. “This is Cale’s. He, um, let it the other night,” she explains, Tyson watching her turn his teammates bowtie over in her hands.

“So you and Cale are doing pretty well?” he asks. Anne looks at him, not sure if she really wanted to tell him about it. “Come on, we’re friends. You can talk to me about anything.”

“I mean,” she says, putting down the bowtie on the table, not taking her eyes off of it. “We’re together? I think?” Tyson already hated that he even offered to listen to her talk about her and his teammate. “I like him. A lot. And I know he likes me, but,” Anne lets out a sigh, not sure where to even take her sentence.

“But, what?” Tyson asks.

“I don’t know,” she shakes her head, looking confused. “Everything is great, but it’s, I,” she stammers. “Something is off, and I can’t figure out what.”

Tyson stares at her for a second, trying to figure out what to say. “It’s probably just that it’s new,” he shrugs. “Everything seems weird when you’re still figuring it out. You and Cale will be ok,” he tells her, hating hearing those words come out of his mouth.

=============

February 19, 2022

Anne stared at herself in the mirror, the black turtleneck she borrowed from her sister coupled with a beige skirt and black tights on her as she got ready for her date with Cale. He was bound to show up any minute, promising each other they weren’t going to do gifts due to a general lack of time on both ends. She didn’t believe that he wasn’t going to get her a gift, however, sneaking out to the bakery down the street and buying some pastries that the two of them would like, giving them an excuse to both show up back at her apartment. And if he didn’t give her a gift, then she got the pastries all to herself.

If not, she could share them with Tyson, who had been showing up at her place or asking her to go to his place any free chance they both had.

She heard Cale knocking at her door, Anne rushing as fast as she could in her heels to answer. Cale was standing there, a black crewneck similar to her own turtleneck, paired with dark jeans, black boots, and a grey coat. Cale kisses her hello, one hand behind his back with the other resting on her hip. “Every time I see you I don’t think you could get more beautiful, and yet, you do.”

“You’re cheesy,” she jokes as he kisses her forehead, Cale laughing against her skin. “But you,” Anne says, resting her hands on his chest, “get more handsome every time I see you, too. And, you’re hiding a present behind your back, aren’t you, even though we said no presents.”

Cale laughs, closing the door behind him. “Maybe I saw this and had to get it for you,” he admits, kissing her again and holding up the bag near her head.

“Should I open it now or should I do it later when we come back here?” she flirts, holding the bag in her hand.

“Oh, we’re coming back here?” he teases her, trailing kisses down her neck.

“I might have gotten some dessert for us so we had an excuse to relive last Saturday. Plus, you left your bowtie here,” she gestures to it, still sitting on her table, “And I was thinking maybe you wear that tonight instead of keeping it off?”

Cale raises his eyebrow at her, a silly smile on his face. “And what else would I be wearing?”

Anne shrugs, pretending to act innocent. “I was thinking only the bowtie,” she tells him, feeling his grip around her tighten at the thought.

Cale kisses her again, unable to keep his hands off the girl in front of him. If he could, he would forget dinner altogether and just go straight to dessert, but he knew Anne wasn’t that kind of girl, and he wasn’t about to force her into anything she didn’t want. “Hey, I like that necklace you’re wearing,” he says, twirling the charm around in his fingers. “The heart is perfect for Valentine’s Day.”

She reaches up and takes his hand in hers. “Thanks. My sister got it for me a few years ago for my birthday,” she lies. She couldn’t tell him that Tyson had gotten it for her for Valentine’s Day.

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serasvictoria · 3 years

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Stupid Games - Chapter 2

Pairing: Ubbe Lothbrok x Reader, Ivar Lothbrok x Reader

Rating: Explicit at the end

Word count: 7487 (look, I obviously have issues)

Summary: You used to live next to the Lothbroks when you were younger, but you moved away and haven't seen them since. A wedding brings you back to town after many years and during a bachelorette party you run into the brothers again.

Notes: After Hvitserk had a go in the first part, Ubbe and Ivar take over. I thought that this chapter would end up being more centered around Ubbe (he will get more attention in the next instalment), but Ivar had something to say about that apparently. He is a bit of a pushy shit in this chapter, but I was oddly into it.

Took me a while to post this, because I couldn't get the first part of this to work. I'm finally pleased with it now so hopefully it'll work for you guys as well *fingers crossed*

Part 1 (link to my AO3)

All images from Pinterest

Tagging @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @ritual-unions-gotme @vikingstrash @pomegranates-and-blood @quantumlocked310 @adrille88 @actual-queen-of-hell @youbloodymadgenius @punkrocknpearls @zuxiezendler

“A game?”

After Ivar had alluded to some kind of game that seemed to be going on between Hvitserk and Ubbe, something that neither of them wanted to comment on, their youngest brother had been the one to tell you what he had been talking about. It didn’t exactly help that Ivar looked a little bit too gleeful that he was the one that got to tell you all about this.

They had been playing a game. And it was all centered around you. That was why whenever one of them tried something when you were still a teenager, the other one was always keen to take it one step further. Everything from the kissing to the heavy petting to the dry humping, quite possibly all the way down to what had taken place in the restrooms earlier, had all been part of some stupid game.

“So the two of you were just playing with me this entire time?” Hvitserk had gone completely silent and seemed to be more interested in the contents of his glass. You somehow guessed that he was waiting for Ubbe to say something, since he was usually the one that diffused situations when they threatened to get out of hand, but his older brother never interjected. “Why would you even do that?”

“I would never do that to you,” Ivar suddenly said. “They are children.”

“Now hang on…”

“Shut up, Hvitserk.” Whatever it was that he was going to say, you didn’t exactly want to hear it. “Yeah, Ivar, you’re a real saint.”

“Better than them anyway.”

“I need some fresh air.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“No, Ivar. Stay here.” You leaned over to him and briefly pressed your lips on his cheek. “But thanks for offering.”

Before turning away, your eyes swept over Ubbe and Hvitserk for a few seconds and it looked like Ubbe had been about to say something, finally finding some words, but he closed his mouth when you turned away from them. Obviously sensing that it might not be the best idea to say something right at this very moment. You pushed yourself through the throng of people, the air too stifling now. When you were relieved that you could finally breathe in some cool air instead of the almost humid atmosphere in the bar. The night air was pleasant, on the cusp of summer and autumn, where the temperatures were still nice until relatively late in the evening.

Despite the fact that you had given it up years ago, it was times like these where you wished you hadn’t quit smoking. Since your hands needed to do something, you grabbed your mobile instead and scrolled through your instagram feed, if only to make sure that you weren’t opening yourself up to a potential conversation with anyone.

If you were honest with yourself, you had always expected that Ubbe and Hvitserk had been up to something all those years ago, but that a game had been at the source of it was quite unexpected. You had somehow convinced yourself that you’d just been having fun, that you were simply exploring new things with the boys next door, that you were using them just as much as they were using you. But it was never that simple, was it? Because at one point your feelings had very much entered into it, long before Ubbe had even kissed you.

But would they really be so cruel as to turn it all into a game? You knew and trusted these guys. You had a hard time thinking of them as callous. They wouldn’t do that. Not to you.

“Want some company?” You turned your head to the side and saw Ubbe approach you. He leaned against the wall next to you, but kept his distance. “I know that what Ivar said just now sounds really bad, but he was the only one that ever called what we were doing a game. Neither me or Serk ever looked at it that way.”

“Then what was it?”

“Interest in my case and Hvitserk was obsessed. Plain and simple.”

“Obsessed? With me?”

“What did you think it was?” He turned so that his shoulder was now pressed up against the wall and he could look you in the eye. “You remember that stupid card game?” You nodded. “Serk knew that you had never kissed anyone and he wanted to be your first. He figured that he had it in the bag as well, but he didn’t have a clue that I had a winning hand.”

“I had sort of figured out that it was the reason why he had suggested that dumb prize in the first place.” Why else would he have even come up with it to begin with if he hadn’t been convinced that he would win? “But why didn’t he just kiss me then? I wouldn’t think that he needed much incentive to do that. Especially when you take into consideration how many other girls he had already kissed at that point.”

“I don’t know,” Ubbe said with a shrug. “I probably know him best of all, but I don’t get his reasoning all the time. Maybe he thought that his best option was to turn it into a game.”

“That would explain it.” You looked up at Ubbe with a slight smile when your mind flitted back to that particular day. “And then he lost.”

“He was furious.” Ubbe started laughing. “Even accused me of rigging the game in my favour later.”

“It wasn’t like the kiss was any good.”

“Say what now?” He playfully poked a finger against your ribs. “I was prepared to put my heart and soul in that kiss. You were the one that pulled away.”

“Don’t remind me.” The only thing that you remembered was that you were absolutely horrified that Ubbe had essentially been forced to kiss you because of some dumb game. You’d wanted it to be a natural thing, not something that he had felt obligated to do. “He didn’t have any problems later on.”

“He wanted to outdo me.”

“Then what was everything that happened earlier all about?

“You want to know what he told me?”

“Well yeah.” You thought about it for a few seconds after answering him and added a quick, “It’s not going to be bad, is it?”

“Nope.” Sensing your apprehension, he reached out and took one of your hands in his as a comforting gesture. “He said that it had been worth the wait. As soon as he said that, I knew what the two of you had gotten up to while you were away.”

“Worth the wait?”

“He was obsessed with finding out what you tasted like. He even lost sleep over it at the time.” Ubbe barked out a laugh when he saw the surprised, yet also intrigued, look on your face. “It was pretty bad.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “He is such an idiot.”

You covered your face with your free hand and wished that you could just disappear right this very moment. This was definitely not what you thought was going to happen when you decided to come back to Kattegat after all these years. You always knew that there was a chance that you’d run into the Lothbroks at one point during your visit, but you hadn’t accounted for anything like this.

Ubbe’s hand slowly peeled your hand away from your eyes and his big blue eyes peered into yours quite insistently. “We’re cool, right?”

“Come on. As if I could stay mad at you.”

“Good.” He kept up his intense stare and kept holding your hands. Whenever you tried to pull your hands away, he squeezed until you stopped resisting. “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends on what you want to know.”

“Why did you never call?”

“Call?” You frowned, not sure what he was talking about. “When?”

“When you moved away. You promised to stay in touch, but you never did.”

“Oh. That. Why do you want to talk about that now?”

“Just always wondered about it. That’s all.”

“I don’t think I…” He tilted his head to the side in a similar way that Ivar always did to show that he wasn’t going to drop the subject. You sighed deeply and wished that he’d just let go of your hands already so you could cover your face again. “Stupid really.” You tried to figure out how best to say this since it had been based on nothing but teenage insecurities at the time and they seemed so trivial now that you were a grown up. Ubbe didn’t push you, he simply waited until you found the words, his thumbs drawing comforting circles on the palms of your hands. “I erm… I wanted to. Just figured you guys would be busy.”

“With what?”

“More important… stuff.”

“Cut the crap.”

“Okay. Jesus.” You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing that he couldn’t exactly pry your eyelids open. “I needed some time to adjust at first so I didn’t want to bother you guys with that dumb shit. Who wants to hear about that crap right? To hear me bitch and moan about how much I hated it there.”

Your mother had moved to be closer to her family and staying in Kattegat had hurt too much. Much later she had told you that everything there had reminded her of your father. Where they had their first date, where he had proposed, everything there had been tied to him and she wanted to get away from it. Her entire life before she had met your father had been in Silkeborg which seemed a million miles away from the only place that you’d ever known. You transferred into school in the middle of a school year and the only kids you knew there were two cousins, one of which you hated. You were absolutely miserable and basically kept your head down until you were old enough to go to college so you could get the hell out of there.

“I stayed in touch with Svana, Olga and Gunna and I eventually asked about you guys, since I was thinking of calling and I wanted to know if it’d be weird if I did that after going all silent for a while.” You swallowed. God, this was hard. “But they’d always go all quiet when I brought you guys up and I didn’t know why. They kept saying that you were doing fine and wouldn’t elaborate. So I asked Kára instead since she’s the only one that wouldn’t sugarcoat anything...”

That was where you stopped suddenly, not really wanting to continue. The reason was so incredibly stupid. It didn’t matter. The urge to go back inside and get paralytically drunk was overwhelming. Before you knew what happened, your face suddenly connected with Ubbe’s chest and he gave you a massive hug. He was still good at giving those. You still remembered that time after he had given you your first orgasm and the two of you had lain in his bed, hugging each other until it got dark outside. He never even said anything that time either, he just held you which was the exact same thing that he was doing right now.

“What did she say?” Nothing in how he held you gave away that he was angry, but you could hear it quite clearly in his voice.

“This is so stupid.” You pressed your head against his chest so that you could muffle your answer. “They told me that you and Serk were seeing Margrethe.”

At the time it had felt like the deepest betrayal to your young mind. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t been in a relationship with either one of them, but the only thought that had been on your mind at the time was that they’d moved on and found someone else. With your mortal enemy no less. It wasn’t like they didn’t know that the relationship that you had with her was strained, if you could even call it that at all.

You thought that the two of you had been friends at one time, but Margrethe had merely befriended you as a means to get closer to the Lothbroks. When that hadn’t worked, she had started spreading vicious rumours around school and the word about you being a whore that slept with all four of the boys spread around the school like wildfire.

It hadn’t mattered how much anyone had denied it, a lot of people had been a bit too eager to accept the gossip as gospel. Mainly girls had eaten it up like cake. Apparently a lot of girls were incredibly jealous of the fact that you were around the most popular guys in school almost constantly. The only girls that had stood by you through all of it were the seven girls that you were with tonight. Kára had even attempted to break Margrethe’s nose when she’d found out who had been behind the rumours and had been expelled for a week because of it.

In the end Margrethe had gotten exactly what she wanted.

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?” You pulled away and slapped his chest suddenly. “You knew I had a history with that bitch.”

“Maybe you should have called and asked me about it.” He sighed and pulled you back in for another hug. “Or were you worried about what the answer might have been?”

“I was a dumb kid.” You pressed your head against his chest again and breathed in his comforting scent. He always smelled so musky and earthy. There was no other scent quite like it. “Course I was worried.”

“It was never that serious. Not for her anyway.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She had… issues.” Ubbe was picking his words very carefully. It wasn’t that big of a surprise to you to be honest. The fact that Margrethe was seriously troubled hadn’t completely escaped you back then, but you had never concerned yourself too much with trying to figure out what her deal was. “I tried to help her, but whenever I tried to broach the subject she’d run to Serk to badmouth me.”

Even if you haven’t thought of Margrethe for years, hearing him say that made you want to hunt her down. You would have told him that too, but that wasn’t what he needed right now. You were a bit at a loss how to make it better however. It didn’t seem like he was still hurting or anything so telling him that everything was okay was probably a million miles off.

“She always had her problems,” was all you said in the end.

“I know,” he replied. “All in the past.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Shut down on me.” He released you, cupped your chin and gently tilted your head up so you could look at him. “You used to do that when we were kids as well.”

“I swear that I wasn’t! But you started this. Not me.”

“So it’s my fault?”

“Basically,” you said with a grin as another idea formed in the back of your head. “So make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you?” His eyes started sparkling with obvious delight. “I’m not going to do what Serk did earlier. I never wanted to outdo him at anything. I know I can do better.”

“That’s not what I was thinking of!” You smacked your hand against his arm first before letting it rest on his bicep. You could not help but give him a light squeeze, briefly imagining how easy it must be for him to lift you up and pin you between himself and the wall. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re thinking about it now though.” He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“Doesn’t mean I want you to do it,” you replied. “Not out here anyway.”

“Hmmm.” He leaned forward, his beard tickling against your ear as he kept talking. “What do you want me to do then?” His large hands settled on your hips and he pushed you back against the wall. “You’re gonna have to tell me, princess.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe.”

Ubbe settled his lips on your neck. All he did was kiss and nip at your skin, but you could feel your heart rate increase already. He briefly reached up to pull the collar of your shirt open, placed his mouth right on the spot where your neck met your shoulder and started sucking on your skin. Despite the fact that the two of you were standing only a short distance away from the red neon light that hung above the entrance to the bar, he covered you in such a way that it would simply look like the two of you were just making out. Besides, crazier stuff must have happened out here anyway.

“This what you had in mind?” he murmured huskily against your neck. Before you could reply, he moved his hands from your hips to your ass. “Or do you want me to take you home?”

“What is it with the two of you and this urge to get me back to your place?” You blurted out with a giggle. “I just wanted you to kiss me.”

“That it?” He peeled his lips away from your neck and pressed his forehead against yours. “Just a kiss?”

“Just a kiss.”

“You sure are easy to please.”

“As you know.” Ubbe never really had to try very hard with you and he knew this. In the past he would always joke about how blissed out you would look even after something as simple as a kiss. You tilted your chin up so that your lips brushed together. “You gonna kiss me or not?”

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

Pushing forward, he closed the small distance and captured your lips. The kiss that he had given you inside earlier had been intense as well, but it had been short and tasted of more. He didn’t have to stop now. He growled against your lips, kissing you so hungrily that it felt like he was trying to devour you. Even when younger Ubbe had often joked that he was like a wolf, something that his parents had recognised at birth and had named him for it. It had always made you laugh, but you could practically feel the resemblance now. If he could have his way, he’d no doubt be tearing your clothes off right now so he could eat you alive.

If he kept this up, you would be tempted to just turn around and let him fuck you right here up against the wall. Your entire head felt fuzzy and it was pretty hard to concentrate on anything other than Ubbe’s tongue which he kept slipping into your mouth. Hvitserk had worked you up to a frenzy not that long ago, but Ubbe was beginning to push you in a similar direction very quickly. One of his hands started sliding down and you knew that you should tell him to stop before you lost your mind completely, but you didn’t. His hot palm was on your bare thigh seconds later and then he slid it up, dipping his fingers into your panties so he could touch your bare skin.

“You’re burning up,” he groaned against your lips.

“Sure feels like it.”

“Want me to do something about it?”

It sure would be tempting to simply say “yes”. And oh so easy. Just one word. Just that little affirmative answer and he’d do something about this heat that he was gradually stoking inside of you. Your body was practically screaming at you to just say “yes”, to get it over with and stop putting it off. You could have what you wanted. Right here and right now. All you had to do was…

“Oh hell no!” You pulled your lips away from him, because you recognized that voice. “You little slut!”

“Am not!”

“Yeah, you are!” Svana was making rude gestures at the pair of you from the entrance with a big smile on her face. “Get back in here. We just bought another round. As for you,” she was pointing straight at Ubbe now. “We bought your ass a beer, so you’d better finish it before we let your brother have it.” She cackled loudly and then disappeared without waiting to see what the two of you were going to do.

“What do you want to do?” Now that his lips weren’t on yours anymore, it was a lot easier to think. When you didn’t answer straight away, he pinched your ass once before removing his hand from your underwear. “Go back in?”

“Be a shame to waste those drinks.”

“I guess.” He held his hand out to you and you took it without hesitation. “One thing though, you’re having dinner at our place tomorrow. Just to avoid any more interruptions.” You could feel all the hairs on your arm stand on end the second the words were out of his mouth. Just the thought of an evening with the two of them with no one around to stop them… your brain already went into overdrive. “Deal?”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

Right before the two of you passed through the entrance, Ubbe pushed you up against the wall right next to it very quickly and gave you one final hungry kiss that took your breath away.

It very much felt like a little taster to what could happen the following evening if you’d let him keep going.

*****

After the night you’d had, you were glad to be back in your hotel room.

When you and Ubbe had gone back inside to join your friends, you found that Hvitserk and Ivar had already joined them and the rest of the evening was filled with even more alcohol and witnessing some incredibly bad dancing from Hvitserk’s end.

Switching the light on in the small bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror and came to the conclusion that you looked like absolute shit. You stripped out of your clothes, dropped them on the floor and left them there. It wasn’t of the utmost importance that you fold them up right this minute anyway. You had already hung a slinky, spaghetti strapped nightshirt on a peg on the door. It had been packed in case you managed to get lucky sometime during this short trip and the way things were looking after tonight, there was a definite chance that you would.

Make-up removed and teeth brushed, you headed back into the room and promptly dropped face first into the bed. You spread yourself out over the mattress and pressed your face into the sheets. It was a good thing that you didn’t have anything planned until tomorrow evening (technically this evening), because you probably wouldn’t wake up until midday.

You’d been about to doze off when you heard your mobile. You swore and reached for it and stared at the screen. Unknown caller. You groaned and shoved it underneath the pillow. Probably a wrong number or some bad joke from one of your drunk friends. It kept ringing until it switched over to voicemail and you sighed deeply when it stopped, completely ready to let sleep overtake you…

It started ringing again. By now you were determined to ignore it, but as soon as it stopped, you kept hearing your ringtone kick back to life. Whoever it was, they would not allow you to fall asleep until you’d picked up. After the fourth time, you dug it out from under the pillow and answered.

“What!” The annoyance in your voice was unmistakable and you’d been about to start swearing about how this had better be really fucking important when you heard a familiar voice on the other end.

“That’s no way to greet an old friend.”

“Ivar?” You rolled over until you were laying on your back. “What the hell? Do you know what time it is?”

“4:48.”

“Jesus Christ. Why are you calling me? And how did you get my number anyway?”

“Ubbe gave it to me.” You’d exchanged numbers with Ubbe after he’d invited you round to have dinner with him and Hvitserk since he had promised to pick you up. “You didn’t want me to have it?”

“I didn’t say that.” You didn’t mind. Ivar would probably end up getting your number sooner or later anyway, but he still hadn’t mentioned why he had decided that now was a good time to call you. “I don’t know why you’re calling me, but can’t it wait until later?”

“No. I need to talk to you now.”

“Okay, fine,” you said with a sigh. You had known Ivar for long enough to know that he was the type of person that would end up getting his way no matter what and if Ivar wanted to talk to you, that would be exactly what would happen. It didn’t matter if you were too tired, you just had to get over it and accept it. “What is it?”

“What are you wearing anyway?”

“Ivar! What the fuck! I’m not telling you that.” You started laughing and was waiting for him to join in to let you know that he had asked you that question to be funny, but he never did. “Get to the point. Why are you calling me?”

“I was just thinking of you in that ridiculous outfit.”

“Oh. And you figured you’d call me to tell me about it?”

“Yes. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep after seeing that and I don’t think you should either.”

“Okaaaay…” You stretched out the word and found yourself wondering what else was going to be coming out of his mouth. “So what should I be doing instead?”

“Touch yourself.” For a few seconds you weren’t entirely sure that you’d heard him correctly, somehow convinced that you were imagining this entire conversation because you were so sleep deprived. But then he said your name in a low voice and asked, “Are you still there?”

“Y-yes.” You didn’t know why he was asking you to do this, but it had to be a joke to see if you’d actually do it. That was the only logical explanation. “D-did you just ask me to…”

“Touch yourself, yes.” He paused for a few seconds while you were still waiting for him to tell you that this was all a joke, that he had just been having some fun, but then he continued. “But you were wrong.”

“Oh? About what?”

“I wasn’t asking you, I was telling you.”

“Ivar, you can’t just call me at five in the morning and tell me t-”

“Yes, I can.” He cut you off before you could finish your sentence. “Touch yourself. I am not telling you again.”

“Ivar, fuck.” Hearing the command in his voice was working for you in ways that you had never thought possible. You pressed the index finger of your free hand against your neck, just below your ear, and started trailing it down. “This is insane.”

“Are you touching yourself, kitten?”

“Y-yes.” This really was a dream. You were having some kind of vivid sexual dream involving the kid that used to sit in the little red trailer behind your bike as he screamed at you to go faster. And now that same kid, all grown up by now, was initiating phone sex with you. “I am.”

“Where?”

“My collarbone.” Your finger had pressed into the dip above your sternum and had started trailing outward.

“Child’s play.” Ivar sounded less than impressed with you. “Are your nipples hard?”

“Ivar!”

“What?” You heard him chuckle on the other end. “Well? Are they?”

You looked down at your chest and could see your nipples pressing up against the silky fabric of your nightshirt. “Yes.”

“So touch them instead.” Despite the fact that he couldn’t see whether you were doing it or not, you thought that he would probably be able to tell if you were ignoring what he was telling you to do. “Your collarbone. Honestly.” You whimpered when your finger brushed up against the hardened nub. “Feel good?” You made an affirmative noise. “Squeeze.” You did as he asked again and stifled a moan. “Don’t do that.”

“W-what?”

“I want to hear you.” You repeated the movement and this time you didn’t try to silence yourself. “Good.” You could hear the pride in his voice. “Now move your hand down lower.”

Your hand skimmed down your stomach, moving down ever lower until your fingers brushed over your mound and you sighed deeply when your hand dipped down in between your legs. When you pressed against your covered core, you could feel that your underwear was already damp and you set to lazily rubbing your fingers up and down. Little gasps and moans kept tumbling from your lips and you gripped your mobile tighter in your hand.

“Did I tell you that you could do that?” Your hand stopped moving instantly and you made sure that Ivar heard how displeased you were. “No. I didn’t say that you could move your hand down that low.” Since you could somehow tell that it was coming, you pulled your hand away and moved it next to you to grip the sheets instead. “Start again.”

“From where?”

“Your collarbone.”

“I thought that was child’s play?”

“Just do it,” he replied mercilessly. “And don’t talk back. Good girls do whatever they’re told.”

“And who told you that I was a good girl?” He wasn’t in the room with you so you could be a little bit defiant. “Good girls don’t necessarily give guys blowjobs in restrooms.”

“Probably not.”

Without any warning, the call suddenly disconnected. You stared at your screen in confusion. Why would Ivar get you all hot and bothered like that only to hang up on you? So now you had to finish it yourself and then you could finally fall asleep. You’d been about to do just that when your phone started ringing again. When you looked at the screen, you saw that someone wanted to video call you. You swiped your thumb over the screen and the next thing you knew Ivar’s face came into view.

“You thought that I was going to leave you hanging, weren’t you?”

“I kinda did yeah.”

“I just wanted to see with my own eyes that you were going to do what I told you.” Ivar bit his lower lip. It was a move that was almost a little bit too calculated to come across as natural, but you didn’t really mind. It only made you wish that he was in the room with you so you could feel those lips on yours. “Now show me what you are wearing.”

You moved the phone up a little bit higher and slowly tilted it downward. There was a lace trim at the top of your nightshirt and the rest was made of a pink silky material. It didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination. You had your legs pulled up so he couldn’t see your underwear properly and you could see a slight frown crease his brow.

“Open your thighs.” You parted your legs slowly and made sure that he could see your panties. They didn’t match your nightshirt, but when you heard him whistle through his teeth it was made clear that he didn’t particularly care that you weren’t wearing a matching set. “Nice.”

“You like it?”

“A lot. Let me see your face again.” You moved the screen back up and smiled at him. “I want you to take it off now.”

“My nightshirt?”

“Everything.” He could probably see the hesitation on your face and you saw his eyes soften. “Would you do that for me, kitten?”

“Just my top.” You saw his other hand move into view for a few seconds, gesturing at you to continue. You put the phone down next to you, pushed yourself up into a sitting position and removed your top. Moving back into view of your phone, you sat in such a way that Ivar could see that you were half naked now without letting him see your bare chest. “See?”

“But not enough.” One corner of his mouth curled up in an almost wicked grin. “Just a peek.” You knew where this was heading, that much was obvious, but you had never done anything like this before and it made you apprehensive. “Do you want me to say please?”

“I’m not so sure you can say please.” You lay back down, moved one of your arms so it covered your breasts and grabbed the phone again. You held it high above you so he could see your face and the top of your chest. “Like this?”

“You’re not giving me a lot to work with here.” He sounded unimpressed so you moved your hand, aiming it down lower so he could see the arm that you were covering yourself with. “Move your arm.” You briefly closed your eyes and took in a deep breath to steady yourself, but didn’t pull your arm away. He said your name and you looked up at his face again. “Please?”

Very slowly, you spread your fingers so a single nipple appeared between them. His tongue peeked out from between his lips to swipe over his bottom lip. You saw his lips move, but before he could say anything you started circling the pebbled nub with one of your fingers. Ivar’s pupils were so big by now that you could barely make out the blue in his eyes anymore. You couldn’t help but wonder if he would come over if you were to ask him to.

“Move your arm.” You took a deep breath and very slowly started moving your arm down until it was resting right underneath your breasts. Ivar tried to hide it, but you saw his eyes widen ever so slightly and then he uttered a low, “Fuck.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are you wearing?” He didn’t respond immediately, he merely looked amused that you even asked him this, so you tried to make your next words sound as commanding as possible. “Show me.”

Ivar kept his eyes on yours for a few seconds longer and just when you thought that he wasn’t going to show you anything at all, he slowly tilted the phone down to show you that his chest was already bare. You’d already felt it back at the bar when he pulled you closer to him a couple of times after he and his brothers had joined your group of friends, but my god, he was ripped. You’d been paying such attention to his chest and the tattoos that covered part of it, that you hadn’t noticed that his other arm wasn’t visible. In fact you might even have noticed that there was slight movement coming from that side of his chest, but sadly you hadn’t.

The camera moved down over his stomach and you found yourself wanting to know how his skin would feel against the palm of your hands as you skimmed them down his chest. It wasn’t until you caught sight of trimmed hairs that led down that you noticed that he wasn’t wearing any underwear either. And then, without any prior warning, his cock suddenly came into view. You saw it for a few seconds, your mind only barely registering how hard he was and how slowly he was stroking himself before he disappeared from view and you started swearing.

“Fuck! Dammit!” You rubbed your forehead and heard him doing his utmost not to burst out in laughter on the other end. “Not funny, Ivar.”

“I am sorry, kitten.” He cleared his throat, chuckled one more time and then asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Dropped my goddamn phone.”

“Look at me.” You rolled on your side to grab your mobile and propped it up against a pillow so he could still have a clear view of your face. It also meant that you would not be able to drop the damn thing on yourself again. You definitely didn’t want to explain a possible black eye to Ubbe and Hvitserk tomorrow. “Were you that shocked?”

“Wasn’t expecting you to be naked,” you replied, feeling mighty stupid about yourself right now. “That’s all.”

“So… now that you know that I’m naked…”

“I’m not going to be showing you my pussy.”

“I am shocked that you even thought that.” He even gasped, but you didn’t believe him. That fucker always kept a very tight lid on his emotions. No way that something like that would shock him. “You could still take your underwear off though.”

“I could.” When you didn’t move, Ivar started pouting. Very much like before, it was such a practiced move. How many times had he done something like that before to get what he wanted? “You sly fucker.”

“What did I do?”

“Shut up. As if you don’t know.” His mouth broke out into a wide grin and you shook your head. “You are such a dick, Ivar.” When you saw him open his mouth to speak, you cut him off. “Don’t say it.”

“Say what?”

“If you were going to say anything about how nice your dick looks, I swear that I’ll hang up.”

“I wasn’t going to say that, but thanks.” You groaned for even voicing that opinion out loud. You really had to learn to think before you speak, especially around someone like Ivar. “What kind of guy would say that?”

“Have you met Serk?”

“Good point,” he said with a chuckle. “I was just going to ask you to take your panties off again.”

“You always were a persistent little shit.” Why not give him what he wanted? You weren’t going to shove the phone in between your legs to show him that you were entirely naked, you’d made that clear already. “Tell me. Don’t ask me.”

“Hmmm. So you like that, do you?” His grin turned practically feral now that you’d given him a piece of information that he would likely use against you at some other point in the future. “Take your panties off. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” The word was out of your mouth before you even realised it and when you did, your cheeks flushed bright red. “Oh my god… I-I am so s-sorry… that was…”

“Hot?” Your horrified expression only amused him more and he started laughing. “You can call me that anytime, kitten.”

“I wasn’t…”

“But I did tell you to do something, didn’t I?”

And then the command was back. When an involuntary moan escaped your lips, he drew attention to his own lips again by running his tongue over his plump bottom lip. You mouthed the word “fuck” before reaching down and sliding your underwear down your legs. When they were off, you moved them into view of your phone to show him that you were now entirely naked and hearing him groan softly on the other end felt strangely good.

“Ivar?”

“What is it, kitten?”

“If you’re going to tell me to touch my collarbone again, I’ll kill you.”

“Impatient.” Before he could tell you to do anything, you’d already slid your hand between your legs and you made sure that he heard the sound that you made when your fingers finally came into contact with your soaking wet pussy. “Fine. I’ve been touching myself for a while so I’ll allow it.”

“You’ll allow it? Gee, thank you, Ivar.”

“I can be merciful,” he replied without a hint of embarrassment. “What are you doing?”

“Touching myself.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Lord. This is kinda…” You squeezed your eyes shut and bucked your hips up against your hand. “Fuck.” His laboured breathing was starting to propel you closer to reaching a climax and when you opened your eyes to look at the screen again, you could tell that he probably didn’t need much more either. “I’m so wet,” you half moaned. “Wish you were here so you could… replace my fingers… with your tongue…”

“Oh y-yeah?”

“Mmmm.” You moved your hand away from yourself, quickly replacing it with your other hand and then held your arousal soaked fingers up to the screen. “See that?” His lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. You kept eye contact with him when you sucked your digits into your mouth, moaning as you did so. You moved your fingers in and out of your mouth, determined to give him some kind of show.

“I need to feel those pretty lips of yours…” He was finally able to talk now. “...wrapped around my cock.” You released your fingers with a loud pop and then presented your tongue to him, to mimic that you were doing something else entirely. “Just like that,” he said with a grin. “Bet you’d look good on your knees.”

“In my… skirt…”

“Yeah…” It was getting more and more difficult for him to talk now, you could tell, but he was still trying. “I’m so…”

Ivar never finished his sentence. All that came out was a low guttural growl and then he was done. His eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy as he came down from his high. You kept your eyes focused on his lips and his tongue that kept darting out to moisten them. When he finally opened his eyes, within seconds he knew what you’d been looking at.

“Kitten.” He practically purred the word at you and you could feel your muscles twitch involuntarily. Your movements increased, rubbing harder as the pressure continued to build. “I should just come over so I can make you come with my mouth and my fingers.” Your face started to feel hot and you gasped loudly. You were close. So close. “And then, if you’ve been a good girl, I might even fuck you.” He paused for a few seconds, his blue eyes locked on yours. “But only if you’ve been really good.”

“Oh my god…” One last circular movement around your clit, that was all you needed. You squeezed your eyes shut and all but wailed the words as your legs started shaking, your muscles spasming, your toes curling against the blanket. “Shit, shit, shit…”

You were aware of Ivar’s soft chuckle somewhere in the background, but it was hard to focus on anything after orgasming that hard. If it was already this good, what the hell was it going to be like if he was actually in the room with you? If he actually pressed that thick cock of his into you and growled into your ear what a good girl you were? The sheer thought of it was almost enough to make you come again.

Finally cracking an eye open, you looked at the screen to find Ivar’s blue eyes focused on you. One corner of your mouth curled up and then you wiped the sweat off your brow that had accumulated there. “Fuck. That was amazing,” you said with a breathy laugh. “I’m exhausted.”

“I can tell,” he said quietly. “Will you be able to sleep or do you need me for something else?”

Wait. Was he angling for an invitation here? You looked at the alarm clock that was on the bedside table. The red glowing numbers had the time at 5:16 in the morning.

“Nope.” You decided to play dumb. “Why? Did you want to talk?”

“Talk? No.” He chuckled softly in reply and ran his hand down his face. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”

“Yep.” You rolled over on your side and blew a kiss at the camera. “Good night, Ivar.”

Before he could say anything in reply, you had already disconnected the call and then pressed your face into the pillow as you laughed. Your phone started beeping almost immediately. You saw a message illuminate the screen and you unlocked it to reply.

The message read: That was rude.

Since you hadn’t had a chance to add his number to your contact list, you were seeing nothing but his phone number so you added him so you could at least see his name.

Good night, Ivar.

You saw that he was typing back and it didn’t take him long to send a reply. Good night, kitten. You were going to reply, but saw dots appear again. I’ll have to teach you some manners the next time we see each other.

A shiver ran down your spine when you read his message. You wondered what he was planning, but knowing him it would probably be good.

Good night, Ivar. And I’m looking forward to it.

He didn’t send you any more messages and you fell into a deep sleep shortly after while clutching your mobile tightly.

#vikings #vikings au #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ubbe x reader #ivar x reader #mar writes #mar moodboards

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vivianweasley · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 5)

Summary: Your father is Lucius Malfoy’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley.

In this chapter: It’s already the last month of your fake marriage. Is all of this really going to end?

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Malfoy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, misunderstanding, insecurity, mean relatives, reader being jealous?

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I apologize for not updating for so long cuz I was feeling burnt out. And I apologize in advance for this chapter, but since it’s Pride and Prejudice themed, I had to include a part like this afghjldfk Also, I may or may not named one of the characters after a Pride and Prejudice character:)

Pictures are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on any platform! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Pride and Prejudice Series Masterlist

Sometimes you would wonder what would it be like if you and Fred were friends when you were still in Hogwarts. And as your mind wandered through these imaginary scenarios, you would also daydream about what would it be like if you went to the Yule Ball with him. But regardless, just being in this moment, dancing with him to your favorite love song, was magical enough.

You were invited to Fred’s cousin’s wedding, along with the other Weasleys. Playing the character of Fred’s wife for almost eleven months now made you a regular guest to all kinds of the Weasley family gatherings.

As the music played and the guests joining the bride and groom on the dance floor, you and Fred decided to join, too.

“I’m definitely playing this song at my own wedding!” you were excited when your favorite love song started playing.

“And I’m definitely play something livelier,” Fred smiled as he commented.

“Glad we’re not having the same wedding then,” you glared at him, trying hard not to step on his foot. “I have a feeling our idea of an ideal wedding would be completely different.”

“So what is your ideal wedding?” Fred asked. You looked up at him and realized he looked sincere.

“I haven’t really thought about it, but a small wedding with my close family and friends would be nice,” you answered. You left out one detail. All you could think of now was what would it be like if you could really marry Fred. But of course, you wouldn’t tell him that, “I’m assuming yours would be something more exciting.”

“Of course!” If you paid attention, you would notice the blush climbing up on Fred’s cheeks, but you were too flustered by your own daydreams.

“Let me guess, someone would probably turn into a canary.”

“Very likely,” he replied while twirling you around with the music, “and that someone is probably you!”

You laughed as you twirled. You weren’t paying close attention to your steps, and your right foot tripped your left foot. But you landed in Fred’s arm.

You looked up at him as your heartbeat started to pick up. Your lips were only inches away now that you could already feel his breath brushing lightly against your lips.

You didn’t know how long has passed as you two both froze on the spot. Just a little bit closer and your lips would be pressing together. You never knew you wanted this kiss so desperately until now, and the fact that this was already the last month of your one-year marriage contract made it worse. You would be lying if you say you have never fantasized about Fred reciprocating your feelings, and this fake marriage could turn into a real one by the end of the year.

“Fred?” A voice interrupted this moment and your daydream.

Fred pulled away awkwardly with the blush still tainting his cheeks. “Mrs. Collins? Maureen?” You turned and saw the owner of the voice was an older woman and beside her was a beautiful younger woman, who’s about your age.

“Freddie! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Mrs. Collins pulled Fred into a hug, and when she finally let go of him, her eyes turned to look at you.

“Oh, Mrs. Collins, this is Y/N.”

You put on a polite smile and held out your hand, “Hi, I’m Y/N-”

“Malfoy!” she cut you off, without acknowledging your hand, “I’ve heard that Freddie married a Malfoy. How interesting! How did you two meet?”

The way she said “Malfoy” and her question stung you. From past experiences, you knew this conversation is probably not going to end well. “Our parents are actually old friends, so we met when we were still little,” you answered, hands fidgeting and not looking at Mrs. Collins.

“What a coincidence! Cause Maureen and Fred have also known each other since they were kids, isn’t that right, Freddie?”

“Yea,” Fred smiled, not noticing how your expression froze in an awkward state, “Oh, Y/N, this is Maureen. We used to be friends when we were kids until she transferred to Beauxbatons.”

“Hey, it wasn’t like I had a choice!” She slapped on Fred’s arm, causing Fred to laugh while pretending to be hurt.

Watching them interact so naturally, you suddenly felt like you were interrupting something. A horrible feeling crept up in your mind. What if there’s already someone in Fred’s life, yet you still forced him to sign this stupid marriage contract?

“And Maureen’s an interior designer now! So if your little shop needs a makeover, I’m sure Maureen’s willing to help,” Mrs. Collins suggested. Her tone and expression all reminded you of your mum when she tried to set you and Fred up.

“Oh right! Fred,” Mrs. Collins continued, “come say hi to the rest of the family! I’m sure they all missed you a lot.”

“I would love to, but Y/N...” Fred looked at you. You couldn’t figure out what his expression meant? Was this an excuse because he didn’t want to go? Or did he want to go?

You didn’t know why insecurity started to cloud your brain. Growing up, you always thought you’re proud most of the time, but this was not the case when it comes to your last name. You knew you shouldn’t feel ashamed of it. The history and crime this name carried have nothing to do with you. And you knew feeling ashamed of it gives it power over you, but all you could do was retreating to your shell whenever someone brought up your last name.

So your final decision was, “It’s okay, you can go. I’ll go find Ginny.”

“Great!” Mrs. Collins started dragging Fred to her family’s table. Fred was still looking at you, but then you heard Mrs. Collins say, “Don’t worry about Y/N! I know she probably wouldn’t want anything to do with our sort of people, anyway.”

Your stomach sank. What did she mean by “our sort of people”? And more importantly, what did being your sort of people imply?

A few months ago, you thought changing your last name by marriage could solve everything. But the cruel fact was that it changed nothing.

And maybe it was your insecurity talking, but how could Fred not say anything when Mrs. Collins made such a comment? Did he not understand what she meant? Or did he...agree with her?

After they disappeared in the crowd, you immediately apparate back to the apartment like you were fleeing a monster from your nightmare. That was the only logical move you could think of at that time.

“Fred,” you kicked off your heels after you got back to the apartment from work and began rambling on about your day, “you won’t believe what happened today. I-” But the words choked in your throat when you saw another person in the kitchen. You recognized it was Maureen Collins from the wedding a week ago.

You thought you already forgot about what Mrs. Collins said to you at the wedding, but those words immediately rushed back when you saw Maureen again.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re back!” Fred exclaimed, and he noticed the box in your hand, “Is that my favorite pie!”

“Yea, I didn’t know...” It was supposed to be a surprise, but now it just felt extra when it seemed like they were already cooking a meal.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier. This was really last-minute,” Maureen explained.

“Yea, Maureen was here to help with the makeover of the shop, and it’s almost dinner time when we were done, so we thought-”

“No worries,” you cut Fred off before he could finish with the explanation. You didn’t like the way he sounded. It almost made you feel like you were a party pooper.

“We can just eat the pie tomorrow!” You tried to put on a smile when you shoved the pie into the fridge.

“Brilliant! All sorted now! Y/N, come help! Dinner would be ready faster if we had three people cooking.”

“Yea,” Maureen chuckled, “Fred was just talking about the first time you two tried to cook together. It must be difficult having to cook with an absolute idiot, let alone being forced to live with him for one year.”

Your heart sank. Fred told her that the marriage is fake? According to your contract, he shouldn’t have told anyone, unless...

Watching Maureen cooking and laughing with Fred, your mind just couldn’t shake off the images of her living here and being his real wife. You had to admit that you didn’t like these images, but why should you care if someone else is going to live here instead of you. Your mum forced you to live here anyway, and now you could finally go home.

Home. You sighed as the image of home appeared in your mind. And you finally admitted that for the past few months, you also considered this apartment your home.

But you put on the contract yourself stating that you both could date whoever you like during this fake marriage, and you had no business in interfering with Fred and Maureen’s relationship now.

So you picked up your jacket again, “Actually, I’m having dinner with my friend tonight-”

“But I thought you were planning to eat at home,” Fred pointed at the fridge, referring to the pie.

“Oh, that’s for tomorrow,” you lied, even though you knew your excuses didn’t match with what you just said a few minutes ago. You panicked, so you proceeded to say something that you never thought you would say, “Plus, I need to give you two space.” You even said it with a wink, covering for the fact that you panicked, and you just rushed out the door before anyone could say anything.

You went back to your parents’ house for the night and only returned to the apartment the next morning. Knowing the exact time when Fred would usually go downstairs to the joke shop, you successfully apparated into the apartment without bumping into anyone. You just wanted to avoid seeing him.

You decided to start packing up. There are only less than two weeks left, and you didn’t want to occupy other people’s home for longer than you needed. Your pride demanded a graceful exit.

You knew it would be much easier and quicker if you used magic. Just by a flick of your wand, everything would be packed. It would be so clean like you’ve never been here before, but somehow, you just wanted to take your time with it.

And it was until you started packing when you realized how attached you were to this little apartment. One year wasn’t that long, just like what you said at the beginning of all this, but every corner of this apartment had trails of you living here and your memories.

It was just a contract, you tried to convince yourself, and now the time’s up. But it still pained you to remove your every trail. You realized you were not only removing your existence from this apartment but also Fred Weasley’s life.

“Y/N?” You were so busy going down memory lane that you didn’t notice the series of footsteps coming upstairs. You turned and saw Fred, who looked very confused now as he glanced around and saw the packed boxes. “What are you doing?”

“Just packing up,” you tried to say it as indifferently as possible, “there are only two weeks left, so I thought I should probably start moving my stuff away.”

“Oh,” Fred paused for a moment before the corners of his mouth twitched into an awkward smile, “guess you’re finally free.”

“Yea, and so are you,” you tried to force a laugh, maybe he’s always waiting for this moment, the moment that he’s finally free, “I’ll move back to my parents’ house this week so that the divorce would look more realistic.”

His mouth opened, and you could tell that he was trying to say something. And for a second, you thought maybe he’s trying to think of a way to stop you. To say that he didn’t want you to leave.

But all he said was, “Okay.”

It was only around 6:30 am when you woke up. There were too many things on your mind that you couldn’t even enjoy staying asleep at ease. It was your last night here, after all.

Fred was still asleep with both his arm and leg on top of you. He’s an obnoxious sleeper, but you didn’t mind.

You snuggled closer to him as your mind went through the nights that he comforted you when you couldn’t sleep, the sleepless nights that you would chat and laugh with so much ease, and the mornings when you woke with your limbs tangled together. It all felt like a dream, and maybe now it’s time to wake up.

But before you do that, before you had to exit from his life, you just wanted to stay in this moment and stay in his arms for a little longer. You closed your eyes as you took in that familiar cinnamon scent and his cologne. Let’s just dream for a little longer.

Fred woke up with the other side of the bed empty. In a haze of sleepiness, he thought you just went to the bathroom. You would always come back to bed and try to squeeze in a few minutes of sleep before finally getting up and getting ready. But you didn’t come back today.

In fact, the apartment was awfully quiet today. He couldn't hear your footsteps rushing in and out of the bedroom to get ready for work. And he didn't hear you yelling things like "Did you see my keys?" or "FRED! Where did my apple juice go??"

Fred got up and tried to search for you in the living room, only to realize that most of your stuff was already gone. He collapsed on the nearby couch, not sure if he was still tired or feeling empty that you were gone.

How could you just walk away so easily? How could you just pull away from all of this almost like nothing ever happened? More importantly, how could you tease him about Maureen like it didn’t matter at all to you? And here he thought you two had great chemistry.

But without that and the contract of being fake husband and wife, Fred was confident that he could say you became friends. Even if you didn’t, at least you were roommates for a year, and that should induce some sort of emotion too.

But no, you just walked away, and all he could do was just getting used to not having you in his life anymore.

(to be continued.)

series taglist: @ifilosemyselfagain @theweasleytwinsgirl @bookworm06 @unabashedbookscollector @txtdreamss @sagittarius-flowerchild @rsheridan @ovrwd @anywherebuthere @allaroundaddict @jeminila @secretsofageek @magical-spit @freddieweasleyswife @lilypad-55449 @hufflepuffzutara @honey-honey-5644 @kyloren-peterparker @treblebeth @kyloren-peterparker @fred-sux @rodrickmalfoy @liliputbahn @its-yasbxtch @daydreamgirl8 @305weasley @awritingtree (message me if you want to be added or removed!)

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#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley series #fred weasley x malfoy!reader #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

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