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sometimesanalice · 1 year

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Leave a Light On {vol. i}

Summary: When Bradley had given you a key to his place, what he probably didn’t expect was to find you there at 2 am sitting at the piano you’d helped him find.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 7k

Warnings: lots of pining and yearning (Minors DNI)

(this was the story I was working on back in January, before the 'Like I Can' series and anything else on my masterlist. I'm so excited to share it with you all! This will be a 2-part series.)

When Bradley had given you a key to his place, you imagine he probably thought you’d check on his plants every now and then. That you’d pop by to give them a quick water and then be on your way.

Maybe that you’d take the Bronco out for a quick spin, so that his baby it didn’t sit there too long going unused. You were one of a very small handful of people he trusted to drive his most prized possession. There was something special about being behind the vintage wheel with the sun on your face as you cruised along the highway, even if it wasn’t the same without him sitting there smiling next to you.

He’d already put his mail on hold with the USPS, but you knew that he knew he could count on you to rescue any stray package that might slip through the cracks and make its way to the front door of his charming craftsman bungalow.

What he probably didn’t expect was for you to be there sometime past 2 AM sitting on the creaky bench of the old, but well-loved, piano that you had helped him to find.

You should be tucked away under the comforter of your own bed, in your own room, at your own place.

Instead, your fingers are navigating over the black and ivory keys trying, yet again, to make it through a tricky passage on a song that you’ve spent the better part of the last three months trying to perfect.

He was coming home soon and you couldn’t wait to hold him, to love him, to surprise him.

Each time he leaves, it gets a little easier to miss him. You wear your longing like a locket rather than an albatross around your neck, always there but easier to bear.

Rooster had a way of filling a space in a way you’ve never experienced before. His larger than life charisma was one of the first things that had caught your attention, followed by that damn smile of his.

He was always humming in the kitchen.

Or whistling in the car.

Or playing the piano to decompress after a long day.

Or listening to something on his mom’s refurbished record player.

His presence always so tangible and warm, like a blanket pulled fresh from the dryer. With Bradley around, you could wrap yourself up in the sheer comfort of him.

And when he was gone, it was the quiet that you struggled with the most. A constant reminder of just how far away he was. No texts or calls or voice memos throughout the day. No little everyday sweet somethings that let you know he was thinking of you.

The sound of silence followed you everywhere. Its heavy companionship making itself known regardless of how loudly you sang along to his favorite songs on the playlist he had made you or how many times you played through the song you were learning just for him.

You had grown up in the silence, you knew it well.

Parents who stayed together because it was easier than splitting the house and sharing the kid. And on the rare occasions it wasn’t quiet, it was loud. The kind that was inescapable regardless of how much you buried under the covers or how far you tucked yourself away in the corner of the backyard.

Until one day the glossy, satin walnut upright piano appeared along the wall in your barely used dining room. And then it soon became your favorite way to cover the quiet and to mask the loud.

Looking back on it now, maybe your parents had wanted something to fill the silence too.

The hours and hours of lessons you and Bradley had both been forced to sit through as children was something that the two of you had bonded over pretty early on. And while he had kept up with playing, it was something that had fallen to the wayside in your life. First with school, then with a career, and now with purposeful avoidance.

There was once a time when reading sheet music had come as easily to you as reading a book. And then one day, they were just a bunch of random dots scattered in between and across five lines on a piece of paper.

There was once a time when you didn’t even need to look down to know where your fingertips were flying to. And then one day, all your fingers could do was stumble and trip over the keys as you winced at the dissonance it created.

And when Rooster had learned about your mutual musical upbringing, he had made it his personal mission to try and get you to play something for him. He was so sweet, so sincere in the way he’d ask you, all big brown eyes and hopeful smiles.

It had always made your chest tight to brush him off. It was something he clearly wanted to share with you, but that part of you ached like a phantom limb. You didn’t know what would be worse embarrassing yourself or disappointing him with your lack of skill when it was something that you used to be so proud about.

It was easy to dodge him at first during nights out at the Hard Deck with your understandable Not with all these people here’s to your practical Mozart would just bring the vibes down’s to your evasive Maybe next time’s.

And when his polite requests were met with empty answers, he took it a step further.

One night in his bed, the curtains fluttering as the sea breeze mingled with his sandalwood scent, he’d whispered into your heated skin, “I’ll get you to play something for me one of these days. Maybe I just need to find the right form of bribery.”

His teasing innuendo juxtaposed deliciously with the deliberate touch of his fingers and tongue as he’d played your body to a perfect crescendo.

It reached a point where you couldn’t stomach to see the dejection in his eyes, the hurt he tried so hard to hide when you’d deny him yet again, that you had to own up to your closely guarded secret.

The confession had whooshed out of you in one breath, leaving you feeling deflated and defeated afterwards.

When you eventually mustered the courage to look at him, he’d been wearing the softest look of understanding on his face, as if he could sense the toll it took to admit the loss of that part of yourself. Then he gathered you in his lap and held you, all while the tears of frustration simmered behind your tightly squeezed eyes.

And when he offered to help remind how to read that language without words, to help you remember the letters of the keys beneath your fingers, it had made your heart hurt a little less.

You weren’t ready then, not like you are now.

But nothing gave you as much pleasure as it did to watch Rooster seated in front of the well-worn and well-played upright piano of Penny’s at the Hard Deck. There was nothing more exhilarating than seeing him in his element so at home on the bench, scuffed and scratched from performers of the past, as he shared that part of himself with everyone in the bar.

He made it look so easy. So damn effortless. His thick fingers flying purposefully over the keys as he played from memory. His joyous enthusiasm electrifying and substantial enough to get the whole bar singing along with him.

It always drew him a lot of attention.

How could it not? He was magnetic on a bad day and captivating the rest of the time. And entirely too handsome for his own good.

Interested eyes, curious eyes, hungry eyes followed him around more often than not after an impromptu performance.

However, those brown eyes of his were always set on you.

Never wavering, never straying from you as he’d weave his way poco a poco, little by little, back through the packed bar. Handing out high-fives to people on autopilot as he passed by to return back to your side. Glistening with the sweat he worked up and grinning widely as he’d greet you with a How’d I do, sweetheart?. Those big, capable hands sliding around your waist, in the back pocket of your jeans, under your top to rest on your low back.

The two of you never stuck around for long after he wrapped up. You didn’t mind helping him find ways to put that excess adrenaline to good use. Usually in the backseat of the Bronco.

You’ll never forget the first time Bradley serenaded you. The song meant for you and you alone.

If someone were to cut into that soft, pink part of your brain, you’re pretty sure they would find that memory pressed there like flowers between the pages of a book. Forever apart of you.

It was the song that always took you right back to that little vinyl shop along the pier. And back to that date that had almost derailed it all.

When Rooster had picked you up to take you to dinner all those months ago, he had seemed a bit antsy and absentminded.

Sure, he had gotten out of the Bronco to come fetch you like a gentleman, instead of sending some half-assed Here text like your ex had been fond of doing. You thought for sure he’d be hustling you back inside after he caught a glimpse of what you were wearing once you opened your front door to greet him.

So you were surprised when he’d simply pressed a dry kiss to your cheek and escorted you to his car with a hand placed respectfully between your shoulder blades instead of cheekily in that space between your low back and ass.

That spot that toed the line between decent and indecent. That spot that made him smirk when you’d give him a pointed lift of the eyebrow, because the two of you knew exactly what he was doing. And better yet, liked it.

However, that night it was almost like he was going through the motions, like he was already somewhere else.

The car ride to the restaurant was silent except for the white noise of the highway as he drove. The circular knob for the radio set to the left.

Off.

Which in hindsight should have been your first warning, since Bradley was never not listening to the Oldies station. A vintage vibe for your vintage boy.

When you were finally seated across from him at that new trendy Thai place you had been dying to go to, his fingers wouldn’t stop tapping out some unheard tune. On the tops his thighs. On the top of the table.

His eyes were landing everywhere else other than on you. On the large leaves of the potted palms, on the ornate pattern on the gold silk that was swathed across the ceiling, on the intricate hand-painted tiles on the floor.

You’d been trying to carry on a conversation for the past fifteen minutes and were feeling completely on edge when you had to repeat yet another question for him.

The anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach had been getting more and more difficult to ignore. You could tell he wasn’t really there, what you were trying to figure out was whether or not he just didn’t want to be there with you.

And god, the drinks hadn’t even come out yet. There wasn’t anything for you to distract yourself with other than your water glass, and even that was already empty except for a few melting ice cubes.

His half answers and noncommittal noises were rapidly clearing things up for you.

He’s breaking up with me.

It was at that crushing realization that the waitress had returned with your drink orders. The bright orange concoction that she set in front of you had been topped with a lovely purple orchid and glittery swizzle stick.

A happy looking cocktail for the girl who thought she was going to have another great date with the guy who was saved in her phone as “Golden Boy”.

“Have you two decided on what you want to eat? Or would you like to hear the chef’s specials again?” the waitress had asked, her gaze bouncing back and forth between you and Bradley.

You could tell that she was sensing the brewing tension between the two of you.

“I don’t think we’ll here much longer, maybe just the check--”

“Sorry, if we could have a few more minutes to decide--”

You’d both started speaking at the same time only to turn to the other wearing matching faces of absolute confusion. He’d gone ramrod straight in his chair, his fingers finally still on the tabletop. The shock in his eyes was apparent, and you could only assume it was there because you beat him to the punch.

The waitress had looked at you sympathetically before saying she’d come back in check in a few minutes and then quickly spun on her heel to take her hasty leave.

It was the look that she’d given you that had really sealed the deal for you, and wasn’t that just great? You wouldn’t have been surprised if the rest of the waitstaff was already hearing about the couple fighting at Table 12 and taking bets about whether or not they’d break up.

Lucky them, dinner and a show.

You’d reached the fruity drink in front of you, the condensation from the glass leaving a ring on the table and took a large sip for moral support. Feeling the weight his stare on you the whole time as you savored the tart taste of passionfruit as it burst across your tongue.

He’d just have to wait. It was your turn to ignore him.

As you’d swallowed it down, it had left you feeling more than a little angry that it tasted so good when you were feeling so shitty. He knew how much you liked an over the top cocktail, why couldn’t he have picked some dingy hole-in-the-wall to do this at rather than ruin this place for you? The hot prickling sensation of righteous indignation filled your chest.

You really didn’t want it to drag out any longer, setting your liquid courage back down you’d met his stare and got right down to it, “If you’re going to break up with me, Rooster, can you just do it now? I’d like to still be able to order Pad See Ew in the future without thinking about you and this moment.”

You removed the napkin from your lap, folding it up primly before placing it back upon the table as you waited for the final nail in the coffin to be pounded in on the remains of the happiest-and-easiest-and-clearly-too-good-to-be-true relationship you’ve ever had.

“Wait, what? I don’t want to break up.” His eyes were wide and searching, the hurt in his voice had been evident. And it was the first time all evening that he seemed to be present with you, like your Golden Boy had finally showed up to the date. “I thought things were going well. More than well, actually.”

“Yeah. I mean, I did too. Until tonight,” you’d agreed, defeatedly. “I’m really confused here. You’ve been completely distant tonight. Not to be vain, but look at me,” you gestured to the sexy lowcut dress you’d worn for the evening. It was something you’d been saving in your closet for the right occasion. And you’d thought it was going to drive him wild, but he hadn’t even given it a second glance.

You’d leaned in a bit, lowering your voice, “It’s a boob and leg dress, Bradley. I look really fucking hot, and frankly, I didn’t even think we were going to make it here once you saw this. It wouldn’t have been the first time we’ve missed a dinner reservation. And you haven’t said a single thing about it.”

It felt like a silly thing to be upset about in the grand scheme of things, but his inattentiveness that evening had stung more than you’d wanted to admit to.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I noticed,” he’d retorted hotly. His eyes had been heated as he’d matched your movement and leaned in further across the table. “Half the men in here noticed it too the second you walked in.”

You didn’t bother trying to hold back your scoff of frustration, the man was infuriating.

“Then I don’t understand why you’re making me feel like being here- with me- is the last place you want to be right now?” You’d given up on trying to sound unaffected, this was not the evening you had envisioned. It felt like being blindfolded on a rollercoaster, unable to see what exactly you were hurtling towards.

“I got my new orders today,” he’d blurted out, his eyes trying to read yours for the reaction. “I’m being send as aerial escort for a diplomatic mission. I ship out next Monday for six weeks.”

He’d told you later that he was grateful it wasn’t a longer one, he knew he was lucky because he could have just as easily been sent away for a deployment longer than you’d actually been together.

“Oh.”

You’d known that that moment would have happened eventually with his job, so you shouldn’t have been surprised. However, it was one thing thinking about it theoretically rather than looking at a ticking clock with a deadline.

“Cards on the table, sweetheart?” He’d waited for you to nod before continuing on, “I am really fucking into you. I’m trying not to put pressure on this, because I’m pretty sure you’re my dream girl. I wanted to take you out for a nice meal, get you a couple of those complicated fun drinks you like. I even looked at the menu in advance, they have one here that they light on fire and it seems like something you would love.”

He was right, it was something that you’d love. You had even eyed it when you first got the menu, but you hadn’t wanted to get anything that would draw you more attention when you already felt like you had too many pairs of eyes on you.

“Then I wanted to take you home with me and tell you after we had a great time out. I wanted to ask you to save that Sunday before I leave for me, so that we could spend the whole day together.” His fingers had started playing that unheard tune on the table again. “I wanted to show my girl the best time, to keep her wanting to come back and to stick around. So that someone else doesn’t catch her eye, so that I don’t lose her to someone better than me while I’m away.”

His confession had your heart taking up residence in your throat. Having him lay it out for you so clearly and knowing that he’d felt as serious about you as you did about him was everything you had wanted to hear. However, one thing nagged at you.

“Bradley, you make me happy. Like really, really happy. I’ve only got eyes for you. If I’m being honest, this stopped being casual to me around our third date. And I trust you enough to know you’d tell me if this”, you’d gestured between the two of you, “wasn’t what you wanted anymore before starting up with someone else. I hope I have that same trust in return, because if you’re worried about me stepping out on you while you’re away, I don’t know how this is going to work. And I really want it to work.”

“Shit, I’m really striking out here. Batting 0 for two,” he’d sighed out more to himself than to you, leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his hair. “Our third? Really? I thought for sure after that disaster that you were going to block my number.” He huffs a laugh, cheeks turning the same shade of pink that they had that chaotic evening on the beach.

“Bradley, it was comically bad.” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at the memory of it. “You were trying so hard and you were so flustered. It was so endearing.”

“Who would have guessed getting attacked by seagulls and coming home covered in sand flea bites could have been so appealing?” He joked self-deprecatingly.

“Me, I could have. Since I was with you,” you said sincerely, “No one I’ve dated has ever put half as much effort into trying to make me happy as you have.”

The two of you exchanged a soft, tentative smiles.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you had a wandering eye or anything, I promise.” His eyes pleaded with you as he reached for your hands and threaded his fingers through yours, his palms slightly sweaty. “This deployment is different for me. I’ve never had to ask someone to wait for me before, never had anyone who wanted to. And I’ve been really in my head because I was trying to find the right way to tell you, to ask you.”

You were still getting to know all of the expressions of his face, but the look of open insecurity he was wearing was new to you. And you’d felt something deep in your chest release and unlock.

For how easily he owned a room, for how confident he could be, getting to see these tender parts of him because he trusted you with them had made you ache in the most bittersweet of ways for the man who was in front of you.

You held his gaze, taking in his anxious expression. How anyone couldn’t want this man or didn’t think he was worth the wait was incomprehensible to you.

“So Sunday the seventeenth, huh?” you’d said with a grin.

His relief was palpable as he’d squeezed your hand a bit tighter, “Yeah, baby, you up for it?”

“A perfect day with my dream guy?” you mused, squeezing his hand back, “Yeah, I think I’d be up for that. I’m up for all of it.”

Not just the date. Not just the deployment. You already knew. With him, you wanted it all.

When the waitress returned a few moments later, Bradley ordered a green curry for himself and the Pad See Ew for you. Along with one of those complicated, fun drinks that arrived with fanfare and flames, all while he played with your fingers.

And after you were finished, she’d dropped off a fluffy looking coconut covered dessert that she’d stated was on the house as walked away with a wink.

You’d totally called it, dinner and a show.

As you’d left the restaurant, he tucked you in close under his arm pressing kiss after kiss to your temple as you made your way back to the Bronco.

And later, when he had taken you back to his place for the night, your boob-and-leg dress forgotten somewhere on the floor, he’d apologized again. This time with his mouth on your body.

Twice.

It had been a fluke, really, finding that record tucked away in that small, but well-kept shop on that Sunday before his deployment.

You’d surprised him with a certificate for a haircut and hot towel shave at an upscale barber for a little pre-deployment pampering. He’d gotten his hair trimmed the day before and he was somehow looking even more sunkissed than usual. His patterned shirt was mostly buttoned up and he had on your favorite pair of jeans- the ones that might have been a bit too snug, but did devastating things for his ass.

It was the outfit he’d been wearing when you had first met.

You and Bradley had spent a lazy, perfect morning at the beach reading and lounging and trading sea salt kisses before changing and to grab a bite to eat. He’d held up a towel up around you to slip into your sun warmed dress, behaving himself for the most part. But you’d still caught him sneaking a peek from over the top of the terry cloth.

After eating a late lunch at his favorite little café that served the best cioppino, you’d popped in and out of the various shops that dotted the boardwalk near the pier. It might have been the bottle of wine you shared, but he made sure to stop at every photobooth you passed along the way, collecting strip after strip of snapshots and tucking them into his shirt pocket.

His hand staying in yours the whole time.

When he’d spotted the tiny record store, he’d cheerily pulled you along with him wanting to look for new additions for his ever-growing collection. It was his newest hobby after getting his mom’s old record player restored. You had even helped him build the sideboard he had specially ordered for it to display his prized collection in the living room of his home.

You could hear him talking excitedly to an associate about some Jerry Lee Lewis albums, who offered to take a look in the backroom for him. You never had good luck when you tried to search for specific things, so you were happy to meander around a bit aimlessly and see what spoke to you.

Casually flipping through the stacks, you’d gasped when you landed on what appeared to be the holy grail of all vinyl records ever made.

“Bradley, look!” You’d held out the record for him like a prize. And he abandoned his own search to come join you on the other side of the store.

“Soldiers’ Sweethearts, huh?” He grinned at your find, his eyes crinkling around the edges. The navy colored jacket highlighted a trio of glamourous looking women, each of the three records featured a different performer and their covers of songs popularized during WWII.

“Mm-hmm,” you’d preened, feeling entirely too pleased with yourself. “You’re a soldier, I’m a sweetheart. I’ve never seen anything more perfect in my life. I have to get it.”

“Well I’m not a soldier, technically,” he’d chuckled, as you’d rolled your eyes at him. The joke had you scrunching your nose, and his mustache grazed you as he leaned in close to press a quick kiss to it. “But you’re definitely a sweetheart, sweetheart.”

You were still trying to learn the ins and outs of that part of his life. But you’d liked how he never made you feel stupid when you had questions. More often than not he seemed excited to answer them for you, that you were interested in what he did.

Rooster gently took your newest most prized possession into his big hands, “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Flipping the album over, he’d scanned the tracks listed on the back for the three records. “Some classics, but a lot I don’t think I know. Definitely some intriguing titles, like ‘Daddy’,” he read aloud with a raised eyebrow and a grin that could only be described as lewd.

The man was a menace and had no problem finding new ways to make you blush. You were grateful that the shop was empty except for the two of you, as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks.

“What about ‘Who’s Taking You Home Tonight’? Have you heard that one before, sweetheart?” His large body moving in and crowding yours, the smell of his cologne making your thoughts go a bit fuzzy around the edges. Your heartbeat kicked up in tempo as he brushed a piece of hair off your forehead.

That find was definitely a jackpot.

Him and those records.

“Mm, or how about ‘Make Love To Me’?” He’d murmured into your ear, his free arm slid slowly against your waist, making a home for itself low on your back. The warmth from his hand seeping through your dress and into your skin.

It was heady being the target of all his heated words and teasing tone. The pull in your low stomach getting more intense with every moment you’d stayed pressed against his hard body. You could see how his pulse was pounding arditamente con forza, boldly with force, from how close your face was to that thick throat of his. And you had wanted to--

“I knew we had it somewhere!”

The associate’s cheery announcement as he returned from the backroom startled you back into yourself. Feeling flustered you’d tried to pull away, but Bradley just kept his arm locked around you as he’d made his way to the counter.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. We’ll take this one too,” he stated as he’d smoothly placed your Soldiers’ Sweethearts album on the top of the pile he had accumulated. Only letting go of you to pay.

Naturally, you’d wanted to play the record the second you made it back to Bradley’s place.

He set it up for you before giving you a lingering, deep kiss leaving you to your own devices as he worked on the final few things left on his to-do list before his deployment early the next morning.

You were happy to make yourself comfortable on his wide seat couch with an Old Fashioned listening to Jo Stafford’s soothing voice with your eyes closed, wanting to luxuriate in the moment.

One where Bradley was less than twenty feet away puttering around in his kitchen and humming and murmuring to himself.

One where you could call out to him and he would be in front of you in a few long strides.

You wanted to avoid thinking about the next day and the beginning of your new normal.

One where you couldn’t expect text messages from him throughout the day.

One where concern and uncertainty would follow you around like a dark cloud until he came back home to you.

But he was here for now. And you wanted to savor it all, to soak up all of its sweet, syrupy goodness like the expensive cherry in your glass.

He must have sensed the turn in your thoughts because his sandalwood scent gave his closeness away before his voice did, “What do you say, Miss Soldiers’ Sweetheart? Can you spare a dance for me?”

You opened your eyes to see him standing before you with his hand outreached for you. The smile so gentle and open on his face, made it impossible for you to do anything other than wordlessly nod your head in agreement as you’d let him pull you up from your comfy perch.

“Apologies in advance for any injuries caused by my two left feet,” you joked a bit bashfully as he wrapped his arm around you.

“Lucky for us, I was gifted with two right feet. Don’t worry, we’ll even out each other,” he murmured.

He pulled you into his gravity, pressing your joined hands against his chest where you could feel the steady beat of his heart. The hand on your lower back urging closer, closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between your bodies. His chin rested lightly on the top of your head where you had tucked it into that safe space where his neck meets his shoulder.

take me in your arms, and never let me go whisper to me softly while the moon is low

True to his word, he’d guided you in a smooth, easy rhythm. The confidence in his steps as you were held within his sturdy arms was enough to make you feel secure in your own movement. With him you were completely taken care of.

hold me close and tell me what I wanna know say it to me gently, let the sweet talk flow

Your other hand slid up slowly from where it was resting on his shoulder to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck as your thumb traced the thick column of his throat.

Come a little closer, make love to me

He held you tighter, held you closer, as the song came to an end. The easy rhythm turning into a gentle sway that continued as the next song began. And the one after that.

That night in his bed he moved against you with such purpose, such tenderness. The sex with Bradley was always stunningly good, he was never content to let himself come until he’d rendered you thoroughly boneless and breathless. He was easily the best you’ve ever had, but that night it was different between you two.

The mood weighty and intense, both of you exposed in a way you hadn’t been before. But there was no mistaking the deliberate way he touched you, the unwavering way he rolled his hips against yours, the unguarded way he held your gaze as if he was committing that moment to memory as he made love to you.

He’d held you close to his warm body, his fingertips leaving trails of goosebumps, as you shivered through your orgasm. His mouth pressed against your ear as he whispered soothing sweet somethings until he followed you over the edge.

For Bradley, you were up for it. For him, you’d be up for all of it.

yesyesyes

Things were a bit too quiet for you.

You heart clenched in a different way when you looked at Penny’s piano on those evenings you spent with the Dagger Squad without him. The ache was still there, but so was a new kind of longing. Part for him, but also for yourself.

But you’d made it through that deployment with the help of your three favorite sweethearts: Jo, Vera and Anne. Although you always queued up one song in particular anytime you found yourself missing him a bit more than normal.

And when Bradley returned back home to you six weeks later, it was easy to fall right back into him. That quiet period was almost too easily forgotten when he was around to fill a space.

That night at the Hard Deck when he serenaded you for the first time, it was normal for him to strut over to the old jukebox to unplug it. His timing impeccable as always, silencing whatever country song Jake had queued up.

What wasn’t normal was the way he took you by the hand leading you directly to the old upright and pulled you right onto the bench next to him.

There was already some sheet music spread across the shelf, you’d noted as he’d wiped his hands on the outside of his jeans before settling his hands on the keys. It only took you a couple bars of the intro to realize what song he was playing, already completely enamored before he’d even opened his mouth to sing.

It was your song.

Nothing in the world could ever compete with Bradley Bradshaw’s deep, raspy voice singing just for you. The significance of the song meant for you and him alone.

You heart had swelled in your chest until you thought it might burst from happiness. Never in your life had you been so thoroughly swept off your feet. It was a gesture came from his heart that made a home in yours.

Ever the showman Rooster put on a full performance, his aviator sunglasses sliding down his nose as he really leaned into it.

Your wide grin had turned to laughter when a few members of the Dagger Squad jumped in as back-up vocals, singing into their beer bottles in a way that obviously had been rehearsed. You didn’t know how he managed to keep it a secret. While Rooster was a vault in his professional life, when it came to his personal life Bradley couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

The whole bar was having fun with the jaunty tune, some couples dancing along in smooth circles on the sticky wood floor as he crooned. He’d leaned over to place a kiss on your cheek every now and then in between verses, and you’d felt yourself fall for him even harder.

He’d pulled you into his lap once he was done playing, as the din of the resumed chatter softly cocooned you. You’d seen all you needed to know reflected in his eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

“Will you play it again?” you’d asked against his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.” And you rested your head on his shoulder watching his fingers get into position on the keys once more as he played the few opening notes.

Somewhere you heard a groan followed by a grumbled, “Not again.”

“Shut it, Bagman,” you bossed at him, not even bothering to look in his direction. You only had eyes for Bradley.

“You heard the lady,” he chuckled. “Shut it, Bagman.”

And then he played it again.

take me in your arms, and never let me go

You should be asleep in your own bed and not at his place with only the soft light of the lamp above his piano and a now cold cup of tea to keep you company.

Tired of tossing and turning, you’d given up on the idea of getting any sleep at your own place after the second hour of trying. Throwing on your slippers, you’d grabbed your keys and then drove over to his place, still in the oversized t-shirt you’d put on before bed, in hopes that scent of his sheets would help lull you to sleep.

But all it did was make you miss him more.

It was too quiet without his soft breathing next to you as he held you close and tucked against his chest.

Too quiet without his records.

Too quiet without his happy humming.

Too quiet without him.

The sound of the tea kettle on his gas range had helped fill the silence, but it was his piano that had called you as you had waited for the water to boil. The sheet music you had left there from the last time you were over beckoning like a siren’s song.

It was your secret.

Only for a few more days, only until he came home.

You wanted to surprise him, to sweep him off his feet the way that he always did with you when he played for you.

During that first deployment, for the first time in years, your fingers yearned for the feel of cool, smooth keys beneath your fingers.

You hadn’t even told Bradley, the one person who would understand it the most, that you’d been thinking about it. Let alone that you were actually taking classes again. Making up excuses about manicures or errands or spin classes for why you were busy for an hour every Tuesday at five PM.

The thing that had once hurt your heart the most, was now the only thing that helped soothe the ache of missing him. The only thing that made you feel close to him when you were thousands of miles apart.

You wanted that familiar comfort of making music. You wanted it because you missed him, but you also wanted it for yourself.

A co-worker had given you the name and number for her kids’ instructor, Mrs. McMullen, an elderly woman who started teaching after her husband passed away. It took you couple weeks to work up the courage to make the call, the sticky note burning a hole in the pocket of your purse you had tucked it into.

You had been an anxious mess the day of your first lesson, hands shaking like you’d had one too many shots of espresso. It felt strange, a little surreal sitting there in the body you’d grown into on the padded bench in her cozy living room. One of the walls filled with shelves and shelves of sheet music, her own personal library.

And for a brief moment, you were transported to a different year on a different bench in a different room. Now and Then. Older and Younger. Both versions of you there to learn. All too familiar, yet entirely new.

You started with the basics. A reintroduction to those lines on the page and the notes that spoke their own language for those who knew how to read it.

Your fingers wanting to move quicker than your sluggish mind, like an echo of a memory of how it used to be. You winced and apologized after every wrong note, until she put her hand on yours, her skin looked as delicate as her fingers did, and said gently, “We learn by doing, mistakes only mean that you are trying. Once more, once again.”

After that first lesson, you’d gone back to your car and promptly burst into tears. Overwhelmed tears, happy tears. That tender part of you still soft, however no longer aching.

You’d left feeling lighter as you pulled away from her house to go meet up with everyone at the Hard Deck, but also with a packet of sheet music to practice for your next lesson.

When Rooster had told you about getting his new orders, when he had asked you again if you were still up for it. You’d told him the same thing you had at that date, you were up for it all.

You would take the sadness with the sweet any day of the week for as long as he was yours.

You’d known how you would fill the space he left behind. And exactly how you wanted to welcome him home. You’d been excited to put that certain song just for him in your cart, and then tacking on one more song to your order, a song that would be just for you.

Both you and Mrs. McMullen had be surprised at how you’d been able to pick things back up over the months, you still weren’t anywhere as good as you were when you were younger, but it wasn’t nearly as daunting as it used to be. And when you showed up to your next lesson after your songs had been delivered, she was more than happy to help you figure out ways to simplify the songs a bit so that you’d be ready when he returned.

And now you’re bent over Bradley’s piano with a pencil tucked behind your ear as you played through the hardest bit of the song, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve gone over it tonight. This morning? You were in that liminal space between yesterday and today. Where the time on the clock was just a suggestion because it felt neither here nor there.

You had practiced and practiced the song you had wanted to play for him once got home. You’re pretty sure Mav wasn’t supposed to tell you the significance of that particular song, but it had made your heart flutter wildly in your chest when he’d told you. And every time you’ve heard it since then.

It was polished, it was perfect, it was ready. All you needed was him.

The one you’re playing now con amore, with love, is the piece you pull out when you long for him the most.

The cover of the song had made you think of him from the moment you’d heard it. It was more lyrical and delicate than the original, and captured just how you felt about him. Just how much he meant to you. Sometimes you sing along with it, sometimes you just let the keys and pedals express the things you otherwise could not.

It was the song of your heart.

Your fingers trip over one of the notes yet again, probably from the lack of sleep, but you weren’t ready to crawl back into Bradley’s comfy bed. Not just yet.

Sighing, you pull the pencil from behind your ear, muttering to yourself out loud as you note the spot on the page. It was already filled with little pencil marks, some older and some newer. All made because you were trying.

Once more, once again.

Breathing out slowly, you settle your hand back on the keys-

“Can you play it from the beginning this time, sweetheart?"

Read {vol. ii} here!

He's a sneaky one, friends! I have Part 2 in the works, not to worry! We have to see how it all plays out! (put intended)

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist for the grand finale!

Here's a link to the Soldiers' Sweethearts Album, if you're curious!

But this is their song, the one Bradley serenaded her with! Jo Stafford's version of 'Make Love to Me'

I ended up making two moodboards for this part!

Here's the more colorful one! And here's the more yearn-y one!

You can check out my other stories here!

And a big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me spam you about this one!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster x you

1K notes · View notes

eggyrocks · 3 months

Text

rot: h. iwaizumi

chapter three -> a visit

word count: 3K

(masterlist ; written content ; taglist)

now playing: strange by galaxie 500

Hey Bug, it’s me. I was just thinking about you and your brother-

Delete.

Would it kill you to answer a call from your old man, once? Why don’t you respect-

Delete.

I’m getting’ real sick of-

Delete.

I love you, Bug. Wish you’d call me back.

Delete.

Her face is pressed against her too-hot pillow, lying on her too-hot bed, too-hot blankets pushed to the floor and too-hot air suffocating her. Sweat makes baby hairs cling to the back of her neck. She doesn’t need to put her phone on speaker to hear the grainy voice of her father without lifting the phone to her ear. He’s loud enough.

Metal clinks together. She can hear it vaguely over the buzz of noise pouring in from her open window. Keys turn in her front door, and it’s pushed open.

She gave Iwaizumi a key. He didn’t ask for one, and seemed confused when she gave it to him. “You better take it,” she had said to him, pressing it into his palm when he tried to give it back to her. “I had to pay to have this copy made.”

His furrowed his brow the way he does when he’s mad or confused or irritated or concerned. “Why are you giving it to me?”

“I’m too lazy to keep getting up to let you in every time you knock.”

Iwaizumi accepted it, then. He’s started wearing it on a chain around his neck. He’s tugging it back over his head as he walks into her bedroom, ice coffee in his hand. “You’re still in bed?” he greets, sitting on the edge of her bed.

She pushes herself up to a sit, letting her phone fall to the ground and clatter shut on top of her pile of discarded blankets. Her hand is quick to take the coffee from him, lips curling around the straw and inhaling a gulp. It’s halfway empty by the time she comes back up for air. “Thanks,” she says, somewhat breathless and disoriented. The heat makes her feel melted, gummy and stretched out. The iced coffee running down her throat and cold condensation on the plastic cup help, at least a little.

Iwaizumi watches as she pants, catching the breath that was stolen from her by the heat and the chugging. His expression is unclear. It’s hard for her to get a good read on him unless it’s explicit joy or rage. “I’m gonna walk you to work today,” Iwaizumi tells her.

She raises the plastic cup to her neck and presses it against her hot and sweat-soaked skin, hoping the ice concentrated on that one spot will cool the rest of her. “’M not working today.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You always work Fridays?”

“CD store fired me yesterday,” she tells him.

“You serious?” Iwaizumi questions, and she nods. “What was it this time?”

“Hmm,” she muses. It could be a number of things, really. The elderly shop owner told her that she just wasn’t the right fit. It could’ve been her general apathy or the way she half-assed her tasks or that one time she let a customer scam extra change out of her because she was too lazy to argue with him. But if she really had to guess-

“Probably because I spit in a guy’s receipt after he asked for my number,” she answers, and Iwaizumi narrows his eyes at her. She places the coffee on the ground beside her bed, next to her fallen phone. “In my defense, though, it was like, the sixth time. Couldn’t take no for an answer.”

She stands, lacing her fingers together and throwing her hands back over her head, leaning on her heels as she stretches, a pleasant tug in her stiff muscles. Vaguely, she’s aware of the tangled mess of hair that’s piled up on the top of her head, of the stains and holes tattering her brother’s old t-shirt, of the dried bit of drool that crusts on her chin. She doesn’t waste her time being embarrassed about it, though. Iwaizumi sees her in a state of undress more often than not, the main stable of her wardrobe being hand-me-downs three times removed.

“Sounds like it was deserved,” Iwaizumi says, and it sounds like his tongue is dry. He clears his throat, eyes on her back as she sways into her kitchen, waiting a beat before he stands to follow her. “What are you gonna do now?”

She shrugs, throwing open the door of her fridge and pretends not to see the half-empty carton of eggs as quickly as she does so she can stand in the cold for a second longer. “Get another one, I guess,” she replies, closing it shut with her hip, eggs in hand. “Want some eggs and toast?”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi replies. She looks over her shoulder to see that he’s settled at her kitchen table, her half-empty coffee and discarded phone gathered up and pushed towards the empty seat she will occupy.

She hums in response, hands busy with the cracking and the scrambling of eggs. “How’s Mattsun?” she asks, splitting an egg from the middle and letting it slip and plop onto the hot pan on the stove below her.

Iwaizumi’s fingers tap against her kitchen table rhythmically. “He’ll live,” he answers curtly. “Not infected, so.”

“Next time, if it’s a lung or an organ, bring him to an actual doctor,” she tells him, trying to fish out a bit of eggshell from the yolk without breaking it. “Shoulders I can handle, but lungs are another thing. Will you light me a cig?”

The legs of his chair scrape against the floors as Iwaizumi stands, and she can hear his thumb fiddled with the flick of his lighter as his footsteps approach. She lifts her head from the pan in front of her, and sees that Iwaizumi is already standing by her side. He leans in close, one of the blues he’s always smoking held between two fingers. Iwaizumi raises his hand, and places it between her lips.

His presence is hot, amplified by the humidity that suffocates her apartment and the burning stove just below her. It’s too hot. The heat seeps through the layers of her skin and starts to melt away at the layers of fat and muscle that hold her together. Iwaizumi places the lighter at the end of the cigarette that hangs loosely from her lips, and doesn’t look away from her eyes until the tip of it is a bright, cherry red. “No lungs,” he repeats back to her, and it takes a minute for her thoughts to catch up. “I’ll remember that.”

Iwaizumi retreats back to the kitchen table, and her eyes linger on his back for a moment before they fall back to the egg in the pan. The edges are burnt black, and the yolk is overcooked.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

It starts out simply.

“Here’s to the girl who saved my life,” Mattsun cheers, though he tries to sound like he’s only somewhat bemused by the whole affair (contrary to the forty-five-minute phone call between them, where he cried into her ear about how eternally grateful and indebted to her he would be). He’s holding up a can of beer that sloshes and spills onto the table beneath him.

Iwaizumi’s apartment seems smaller than it did before, with the group of people gathered around his coffee table and the impressive spread of empty, crushed beer cans. She tips her own, lukewarm can down her throat, and laments the ones that are bent and crunched up. She could’ve returned them.

She’s sitting on the floor, Iwaizumi on her left. His shoulder keeps brushing against hers and she notices it every time. And she knows that has something to do with her lingering desire to sink her teeth into his neck because every time his friend Kyotani accidentally hits his elbow against hers she inches closer to Iwaizumi. Just slightly.

The only person that seems to notice is Oikawa. He smirks at her every time she does it. She’s really good at pretending not to notice.

Iwaizumi nudges her side, and with the beer still pressed to her mouth, she looks at him with wide eyes. “Need another?” he asks, wearing a slight, warm smile that makes her question the source of the heat in her cheeks.

Quickly, as if she was challenged, she tilts her head back and gulps down the remainer of her can. Some of it leaks out of the corner of her mouth, and drips down the side of her neck. She straightens out when it’s emptied, and places the can on the coffee table in front of her before she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Yeah.”

For a second, Iwaizumi eyes her like he’s trying to figure something out. Like there’s something about her left to crack and he just can’t figure it out. He reaches a hand out and wraps it around the top of her knee, lightly squeezing it before he stands, heading for the kitchen.

From his spot on the couch, Makki grins. “What about me, Iwa? You wanna get me another one too?”

Iwaizumi’s response is a cool, clipped, “Fuck off, get it yourself,” and she knows it’s supposed to, but it makes her feel pretty special.

Then things slightly derail.

She’s lost track of the number of beers she’s put back, but she knows she’s not going to have any more, because she’s really trying to get a hold on problem #13 (drinks too much, pukes everywhere, is an embarrassment-in that order).

There’s a slightly sway in her stance as she stands in the middle of Iwaizumi’s living room, furniture haphazardly pushed to the side in favor of the spectacle she’s the center of. She crosses her arms over her chest. “I know how to throw a punch,” she asserts, voice lower and lazier than usual.

Oikawa smiles, half-condescending and half-shitfaced. “Just wanna make sure,” he says, on the verge of slurring his words. “Gotta make sure Iwa’s girl can take care of herself, y’know? Hafta make sure. Can’t take any risks.”

Her back is to Iwaizumi, but she can feel the heat of his stare as it blazes past her and lands harshly on Oikawa. But his tall, drunken friend pays him no mind. “So don’t worry about hurting me, okay? I’ve taken plenty of punches before.”

Instinctively, her hand curls into a fist. The same one her father engraved into the memory of her flesh by meticulously placing each finger and forcing her to swing. Maybe she wouldn’t do it if she were sober. And maybe if Oikawa was he wouldn’t offer, either.

But they’re not sober, and now she has this itchy suggestion in the back of her mind that this is some sort of initiation. Iwaizumi’s presence behind her feels immense.

“So, it’s really easy,” Oikawa explains, lifting up a closed fist of his to her face. A demonstration. “You just wanna make sure your thumb’s not-“

She got tired of listening. She arches her elbow back, and launches a right hook into his jaw.

At the immediate collapse of Oikawa Tooru, there is a collective low groan of, “ooo’s,” and “oh fuck’s,” and even a bout of whooping laughter that she’s pretty sure comes from Kyotani. She’s shaking out the stinging pain in her knuckles when Iwaizumi steps up behind her, and wraps his fingers around her other wrist.

She can feel each finger print on her skin, hot like they’re branding her. She can smell the bit of beer that lingers on his breath and the cheap cologne that lingers on the skin of his neck and god she cannot stop thinking about his neck. He raises her hand above her head. A declaration of victory. “She told you she could punch, man.”

Oikawa straightens up, hand cupping the point of impact on his jaw. “Well, damn, the price I pay for doubting her.”

Iwaizumi drops her arm back down to her side, but does not let go of her wrist. There’s an odd sense of pride in her chest. It was about time something her father taught her turned out to be useful. Iwaizumi slips a single finger down her wrist and uses it to lightly caress the center of her palm before he lets her go.

The quick and oddly intimate gesture makes her dizzy. She forces herself onto the couch, and switches to water.

And then it completely devolves.

She’s somehow found herself squished between someone who looks even more quiet and judgmental than she does and Iwaizumi. She’s had more to drink (problem #15, says she won’t drink any more and then immediately does). The lukewarm cans of beer make her skin hot to the touch and her posture sloppy; her head flops to the side, and lands on judgement boy’s shoulder. Iwaizumi wraps his hand around her bicep, and pulls her towards him, her temple falling nicely into the crook of his neck.

Oikawa is splayed out across the floor, icepack held up against his jaw. Kyotani is trying to teach himself to play a guitar and no one is really quiet sure where he got it from. Makki and Mattsun are crowded in the kitchen, trying to create some sort of monstrosity with Twinkies and wasabi almonds. Something loud plays on the television. She’s not sure what it is. Her eyes are closed.

It’s the dim, weary stage of house parties. When people want to leave but are too drunk to. When every noise is too loud and every light too bright. Her apartment is just downstairs. Getting there isn’t a stretch of indomitable feat. But for someone who is all sharp lines and muscle, Iwaizumi’s surprisingly comfortable.

He grabs her hand and holds it in his, flipping it over so her palm lays flat on the top of his thigh. Her eyes flutter but don’t open. Iwaizumi takes the tip of his finger and drags it along the sensitive skin of her palm. “What are you doing?” she slurs against his shoulder, hand twitching at the contact.

“I’m reading your fortune,” he answers, quiet and low. “This is your money line,” he tells her, finger tracing just below her pinkie. “You’re broke as shit.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she deadpans, monotonous. “What the fuck am I going to do now?”

Iwaizumi continues to draw patterns along her palm. She’s certain he’s making it up, but it doesn’t really matter. Whatever he says to her then, touch feather-light and sweet, she’d take anything he’d say at face value. “This is your head line. I don’t know what that means, though. And this is your life line. You’re going to be the first person to live to two-fifty. And this is your love line.”

She swallows, eyes still shut. She couldn’t open them if she tried. “What’s it say?” she asks, voice dry.

There’s a knock on the door. Iwaizumi shoots up at once, dropping her hand and becoming rigid. She slips at little, nearly falling into the side of the couch, but rightens herself up just in time to hear, from the other side of the door, “Open the fuck up, I know you’re in there!”

And before she can really have any grasp on the scenario or what it means or the potential severity of it, there’s chaos. Bodies moving around her and curses spilling from lips. Iwaizumi, once more, grabs her by her arm and pulls her to her feet. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he tugs at her.

Her feet stumble in an attempt to follow, and once she’s up there on her feet she really as a second to realize how dizzy and shitty she feels. She trips over her own feet, and Iwaizumi pulls her into a dark room, and pushes her down onto something soft. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, and the knocking at the door gets louder and violent. “Stay here. Don’t make any noise.”

Iwaizumi disappears then. She’s on his bed. That much she’s able to realize. And really, she doesn’t have it in her to be frightened. At least her drunken state is good enough for that. She just leans back and lets sleep take over.

When she wakes up again, it’s morning. And he’s gone. Iwaizumi has disappeared from his own apartment. The only thing that remains is empty cans of beer, and a blood stain on the counter.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

The sports store has to be her worst job by far. It’s some sort of cosmic punishment for spitting in that guy’s receipt.

She has to wear this ridiculous collared shirt that makes her feel like she’s choking, and the smell of plastic and rubber is nauseating. The air is stale and stuffy and there is a layer of sweat that coats her skin before her first hour is up.

It sucks. Kiyoko is the only silver lining.

Kiyoko’s manager badge is pinned neatly to her chest, and she smooths out the front of her pants as she explains the ins and outs of getting their finnicky register to work. She licks her lips to wet them as she talks, she tucks her hair behind her ear, and she smiles softly as she lays out clear instructions.

And the whole time she watches, sort of awestruck and not really listening.

She doesn’t really know how to talk to Kiyoko, and throughout her whole first shift she just sort of watches her. Watches as she restocks and explains the products and how to organize and where to take breaks. She wants to say something but can’t think of anything.

By the end of her shift, she hasn’t learned anything, and is preemptively embarrassed that Kiyoko is going to have to explain everything over again to her tomorrow. Or maybe she’ll break her record for quickest firing after Kiyoko realizes the full extent of her incompetence.

She’s standing outside the front shop’s door, watching as Kiyoko locks up and reiterates the closing procedures (of which she retains nothing), and something pricks at her spin. She turns her head, looking just slightly over her shoulder.

Iwaizumi’s there, lingering in the parking lot and leaning against his old, battered car. His nose is more crooked that before, and when he smiles at her it cracks open a cut in his lip. He waves. She smiles.

an: ik ik this chapter is shorter than usual but i think that means the next chapter will be longer. i just wanted to get this out bc i havent updated in a while and god i love rot so much ROT!!!! i love you oh my god. kind of a filler/set-up chapter but u know what fuck it we ball

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @pinkiscool @michivrse @causenessus @cannibalsrider @cherrypieyourface @kmwife @k8nicole @oikasenpai @fennecnco @riousluvs @kettlepop @bellamsby @rinheartshyunlix @bae-ashlynn @ephemeralninon @fangsbb @plumarbre @v-e-r-t21

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #hq x you #hq #iwaizumi hajime fanfiction #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi fanfiction #iwaizumi fic #iwaizumi x you #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime x yn #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime

93 notes · View notes

jaylaxies · 2 years

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 4 — SOMNOPHILIA

PAIRING: haechan x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, somnophilia, unprotected sex, wet dreams, masturbation, cunnilingus, haechan is a perv.

WC: 1029 words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! i was so very excited to write for haechan and this concept suits him so well! i hope you guys enjoy reading this :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

It had been a solid three days since Haechan had last masturbated to the thought of you, the feeling had grown insufferable now, his hand wasn't enough, heck, even the fleshlight didn't do the trick anymore.

He wanted you in flesh. He wanted to bury his cock balls deep inside your tight pussy. He'd wanted so since he sneaked into the laundry room and stole one of your white lace panties, wrapping it around his cock and jerking off with your name on his lips, chanting it like a mantra as if it would bring you to him.

No matter what he did, his mind came back to that memory of yours from three days back, the one where your group of friends had sat down to play truth and dare, the same game where you had admitted in front of Hyuck how you wanted to wake up having him between your legs.

That confession was like a dream to him, quite literally, since he woke up with a hard cock, imagining how it would feel to have his dick inside your hole. Further, he wanted to make sure if you were joking or not, for he would readily be available to fulfill your wishes, especially when it overlaps with his own desires.

“So, how serious were you last night?” he nonchalantly asked you the next morning over breakfast.

“Very,” you spoke, looking right into his eyes. And it wasn’t a lie, you were serious, hoping that one day he'd gain the courage to come over and admit how filthy he is when it comes to you.

The ache was too strong for him to handle, causing him to breathe in deeply as he walked towards your room without any clothes on, his fingers wrapped around his cock, squeezing it which made him gasp.

He couldn’t express his happiness once he found out that you hadn’t locked your room, maybe you did get the hint and made it easier for him because he asked you such a question. With a gulp, he opened the door wider, stepping in to see your sleeping figure, the blanket thrown down to your abdomen and the flimsy material of your nightgown wasn’t helpful in hiding the outline of your body.

Haechan could only stare, muttering a few curses under his breath to calm his racing heart. Then he remembered your confession and got reminded of his resolve to wake you up the exact way you had wanted him to.

Taking things slow, he first came closer and took the blanket away to reveal your whole body, sleeping peacefully while hugging a pillow of yours. His hand inched towards your face, fingers brushing your cheeks softly so as to make sure you’re real. He’s always dreamt of this.

The way you softly whisper Haechan’s name in your sleep makes his eyes widen. Seems like you dreamt about him too. That only boosted his ego, giving him a sudden boost to speed up his actions.

With a deep breath, he grabbed your tit, making sure to look at your face as he gave it a light squeeze, trailing his hand down to your waist, repeating his actions until he reached down to your thighs.

He had been ignoring his painfully hard cock just to see you and explore every inch of you, he hastily grabbed the hem of your nightgown and lifted it up to reveal your cunt, his breath hitching once he realized that you didn’t bother wearing panties while sleeping.

That made his dick twitch pathetically, eyes darkening with lust as he touched your core with the two of his fingers in a soft swiping manner, only to find out that you were wet.

“Y/n, fuck!” He cursed out loud, his touch sending tingles up your spine, making you stir in your sleep.

However, he didn’t stop and only spread your legs open further, licking his lips before he climbed up on your bed, face coming close to your pussy. He tilted his head and licked a stripe of your wetness, humming in delight as he wrapped the other hand around his cock, stroking it.

His tongue darts to your clit, stimulating it with eagerness. He takes in your scent with greed, something that he could only get by stealing your panties, however, the reality was much better than anything he’d ever had.

He goes in deeper, pushing his muscles inside your pussy as his nose brushes against your clit. You’re whining and moving in your sleep, and he speeds up, wanting you to witness the sight of him absolutely devouring your pussy.

And you do exactly that.

“Haechan!” You scream out his name, looking up to see him.

“Shh, baby. I’ll take care of you,” he says and you groan, breathing deeply.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this from so long,” you confess and he only goes in faster once you knead your fingers through his messy hair.

“So much better than my dreams,” he mumbles against your core and you whine, legs shaking with your climax being close.

He stopped right away, making you look at him with wide eyes as his fully naked body came into view, he got closer and kissed your lips with his wet lips coated with your juices.

“You’ll cum on my cock. Understood?” You nodded your head at once, causing him to chuckle and call you a good girl.

Your mind went fuzzy as you moaned out his name, his tip at your entrance, eyes fixated on you as he pushed his cock inside you, your hips bucking up frantically to meet his in hopes of getting a further aid to your release, his own thrusts sloppy and dick twitching with how long he’d been waiting to be inside of you.

You both fail to form any coherent words as you reach your high, legs shaking and lewd voices leaving your mouth, toes curling and back arching in the process of you creaming his cock.

He sped up, emptying his seeds inside you before he plopped down next to you, turning to see you with a playful smirk before he asked.

“Can we do it again?”

TAGLIST:

@en-cityzen @seungkwan-s @eunoia-kth @lix-freckle3 @woniebae @baekhyunstruly @sungniverse @criceofpain @starryjakey @wntrsgf @heelariously @liliansun @hoonstrology @abdiitcryy @w3bqrl @9900z @cha-raena @faethefairy @seo-thicc-bin @lilacboba @fallinforgyu @jayegalaxy @violevantae @ivyvesisi @sunshine-skz @nicksszzz @candidupped @celestialsjy @enhydiaries @woniecf @ultenha @dreamyenskz @keixeds @j5aker @donghoonie-3 @jkmonica @neocityhoe @zhaixiaowen @seuomo @hwhjsthetic @shreyerii @jngsngie @jjhmk @jongseongsmirk @iqeot @duolingofanaccount @bunhoons @yunskies @jaysbiceps @nyfwyeonjun @goodforgyu @enhacolor @cyuuupid @luvyun @sunghoonight @bambisgirl @taekbokki @3ggieyolk

©️ jaylaxies | tumblr

#fic : kinktober #haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #haechan fanfic #lee haechan smut #nct hard hours #donghyuck smut #haechan

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ccawz · 1 year

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moments III

a/n: love edition. written while listening to songs from my love playlist, I’ll list the songs with the respective fic.

ot8! x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) 983 word count

warnings: not proofread & written while half asleep. established relationships. I wrote w braces seungmin in mind.food mentions in Felix, Han, and Jeongin’s.

so tender – say sue me

Chan’s eyes flutter open at the faint feeling of something gliding along his face, smiling when he first sees you.

“What are you doing?” He mumbles, stretching the sleep from his body as he turns to face you. “How long have you been awake for?” He discards his last question, curious about how long it’s been.

You draw out a hum, then shake your head. “Not that long.”

“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?” You scoff, sputtering as you try to make excuses, stumbling over your sentences on how you ‘so totally got sleep.’ Chan doesn’t even listen to you as you try to defend yourself, looping his arm around your neck to pull you into him.

“We’re sleeping all day today.” He murmurs, grunting when you try to pry yourself out of his hold. “Baby, you need to rest. You hypocrite.” A loud gasp comes from you that makes him regret his words.

I don’t wanna be okay without you – Charlie burg

“What are you thinking about?” Minho asks abruptly, in the middle of a spoonful of soup, and you watch as it drips down his chin with a grimace.

“Thinking of you.” You say, smiling when he laughs. “I only ever think of you.”

He hums, looking directly into the camera when you hold it closer to your face. “Give me a kiss.”

“Through the phone?” You’d asked, surprised by his request. He hums, turning his head to the side so his cheek is on display for you. Minho watches you pucker your lips before pressing them close to the screen —he doubts you’d actually kiss your screen— and smiles at the thought of you doing that only for his sake.

l-o-v-e – rocco

“Do you want to dance?”

Your eyes trail up from the hand presented to you to the bashful smile on Changbin’s face as he looks at you with hopeful eyes. “With you? Always.”

He hides a grin as he pulls you up, lacing his fingers with yours while he leads you to the dance floor. The song is slow. Changbin thinks he could get away with swaying, but then you lift your hand above his head and ask him to twirl.

He complies because it’s you. And he’d do anything to see that smile on your face and that quiet laugh you only let out around him.

right side of my neck – Faye Webster

“Did you get home safe?”

Hyunjin giggles from the other side of the phone, turning around to see you still sitting under the tree, right where he’d just left. “We just said goodbye.”

A smile takes over your face at the sound of his amusement, looking in his direction, heart warming at the sight of his smile. Even from afar, when he was just a tiny figure amongst others, he stood out to you in a way you couldn’t explain.

“I miss you already.”

He laughs again. You wish you could hear it over and over again. “I miss you too.” He’d turned away by then, but your eyes remained focused on him even when he disappeared from your sight.

nothing – Bruno major

Jisung shuffles into your apartment with a blanket over his shoulders and melts into your embrace the second you open your arms for him.

“Missed you.” He mumbles, words muffled by the cloth of his hoodie against his mouth. He doesn’t even point out that you’re wearing his clothes. He just basks in the moment with you. “Let’s just stand here.”

You hum, sliding your fingers under his beanie to twist strands of his hair. “How about the warm bed waiting for us in my room instead?” He hums, smiling slowly when you pull him in.

what would I do? – strawberry guy

You realized shortly that whenever you were in Felix’s presence, everything seemed brighter and hopeful. He was the sun's one and only rival.

“Did I do something funny?” Felix asks, looking at you with curious eyes. There’s a sparkle in them. Of course there is. “You’re smiling a lot when I cracked an egg.”

You hum, nodding towards his hands. “Yeah, but you did it one-handed.” He laughs softly, shaking his head at your answer.

You wonder what you would do without him. But the feeling of never wanting to find out clouds all of it because Felix was one of the only things making your life better.

everyone adores you (at least I do) – matt maltese

“Don't hide your smile.” Your fingers wrap gently around Seungmin’s wrist when his hands cover his mouth as he laughs, a frown painted on your lips when he looks down.

“You know I don’t like it.” He looks away when you sigh, he knows you’re tired of hearing that explanation, and you know he’s tired of saying it.

“I know you do, but,” your hands reach to cup his face, Seungmin feels his cheeks warm at the contact. “Everyone adores your smile, especially me. I love seeing how your lips curve. I love the little bands that poke from the side–” he turns away as you speak, groaning when you move his head to face you. “I love your smile. Please don’t hide it from me.”

Seungmin nods, keeping his hands down when he feels a grin starting to form. His eyes crinkle near the edges when you mirror his expression, small giggles leaving him when you kiss the corner of his lips.

lucky love – michael seyer

“Do you hate me?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. Jeongin can’t help but feel a twinge of pain from your bluntness. “Jeongin, I don’t hate you. I could quite literally never hate you.”

“Even if I told you I don’t believe in true love.”

You nod your head, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, resting your hand against his head. “Even if you confessed to eating my pie.”

“That was Han.” You grumble; Jeongin laughs before tucking his head into your shoulder. “I’m lucky to have you.” He says.

“You are.” He boos at your lack of humbleness, pushing you off him, swatting at you when you try to attach yourself onto him.

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hargrove-mayfields · 1 year

Text

Disabled Billy and Steve Week

Day 7- Invisible Disability Awareness

My prompt: Steve on a low spoons day

-•-•-•-

Steve wakes up on the wrong side of the bed. Literally. He’s face down in his girlfriend's pillows, drooling on her favorite squishmallow.

It isn’t rare for Chrissy to get up in the middle of the night and move to sleeping on an air mattress in the living room. Her condition is more rare than Steve’s, a type of synesthesia that mimics touch. So if Steve had his face squished against a pillow and hair all over his eyes, Chrissy would feel the same sensation.

Sometimes it could get frustrating, especially if she was having a bad sensory day, so it wasn’t surprising or offensive that she would put a little distance between herself and Steve.

The part that makes him admittedly sad is that he’s having a bad day too. He hadn’t just woken up normally, it had been from a tic. It was a subtle one, but his sleep had been light enough that kicking his leg and knocking his blanket off had been enough.

That one annoying twitch of his leg has quickly turned into a full scale tic attack.

“Chrissy- Chrissy- Chrissy-“

That particular name tic was born from a time he’d called for her, and she couldn’t hear him because of her noise canceling headphones. So he’d yelled out a second time and suddenly his brain decided it needed to say her name as many times as possible.

These days it usually only pops up during tic attacks, but that only makes it more frustrating, since he’s probably trying to communicate something he needs when it takes root.

But that isn’t what gets Chrissy to actually come in. It’s probably the loud, somewhat squeaky shout that alerts her that Steve is both awake and probably not doing so well.

She’s there by his side within a few minutes, her hand on his chest and soothing him softly, “Steve, darling, deep breaths.”

His shoulders slam backwards into the mattress before he can answer, another tic cutting him off, because of course it would, “I’m sorry -Chrissy- Chrissy- Chrissy- Today’s not a good day..”

“We can rest, baby. There was nothing important to do today anyways.” Chrissy offers, getting settled back in next to him.

“Fudge!” Steve shouts unexpectedly, his arms flying up like he’s frustrated with something.

Chrissy looks hesitant now, taking that tic as maybe a reflection of how he feels, just in case, “Is that okay with you?”

But Steve assures her, “Sure. Napping sounds- fudge! Fuck! -fun.”

A long, frustrated hum trails off after his words, deepened when his closed hand pounds on his chest exactly three times.

He’s already so over this, “Nevermind.. I can’t sleep like this.”

“We don’t have to. Just get comfy, Stevie. It won’t fix it but, maybe it will help a little.” Chrissy keeps him from giving up.

They ran out of the medicine they could give him when his attacks got too severe, but Steve didn’t like to take it anyways. Not that he enjoys his tics so much, but they’re a part of him, and being without them after almost fourteen years of doing this makes him feel strange.

He bets Chrissy probably feels strange too, with all the physical sensations Steve is having that are undoubtedly mirroring in her body. If it weren’t for the amount of times they’d talked about it and Chrissy said she didn’t mind since it’s not Steve’s fault, he would’ve felt guilty.

Instead he lets her pull the weighted blanket up over him gently, and even hands him his chewy scarf, the red one that’s his instead of the pink one she wears, instead of the blanket when it’s clear he’s about to bite the hell out of it. He would’ve too, because his tics make him bite down on that chewy fabric until his jaw almost hurts.

When it releases, he makes sure to let Chrissy know he appreciates her gentle pampering, “Thanks.”

“That’s what I’m here for, Stevie.” Chrissy reminds him lovingly.

This time, not for tic reasons, he blurts out, “I love you.”

It makes his beautiful girlfriend smile, a sight that is instant comfort on its own, “I love you too, honey.”

All this repetition of words triggers some kind of tic response, “Lovey dovey, lovey dovey, all the tiiime.”

For some reason, Steve’s Tourette’s loves music. He isn’t really sure about any of the science behind it, but his mouth is always blurting out random song lyrics, no matter how situationally inappropriate. Like the time he shouted a few lines of Fat Bottomed Girls in a butterfly garden he and Chrissy were visiting.

This time though, a couple of lines of some 1950s love song is just cute enough to get a pass. Chrissy at least thinks so, since she giggles and says, “That’s very sweet.”

When Steve bonks himself on the nose, it’s not quite as nice. It actually really hurts.

Steve seeks comfort for the pain, “Can I cuddle you?”

Chrissy opens her arms up wide to make room for him, “Of course, snuggle bunny! Come here!”

That’s an invitation Steve wastes no time to accept, laying his head on Chrissy's chest and breathing deep to stay relaxed. It works a little, in that her cuddles at least eases the frustration and the exhaustion mixing together in his mind.

Maybe Steve can’t sleep, but he can relax, and this is the peak of his bliss. Just lazing about with his girlfriend Chrissy, a beautiful and positive force in his life he never expected to have when his diagnosis came at fourteen.

It was through his Tourette’s that they became close though, since they’d met in a neurologists office while Chrissy was still seeking a diagnosis. He’d rolled up a waiting room magazine and hit himself in the head with it. She’d been the only one to ask if he was okay instead of trying to hide a laugh like a few others, and the rest was history.

Chrissy always says someone should make a movie about them and their fantasy disabled romance. Steve doesn’t think any actress would be beautiful and charming enough to play her.

The romantic ideal can’t always be their reality though. As Steve learns when he makes a velociraptor-esque screech and his head slams back into the headboard.

Chrissy shifts a pillow there and kisses Steve’s forehead, wordlessly trying to make it better, since it’s clear that banging your skull against hardwood definitely hurts. She winces too, probably feeling the sensation herself. It makes her shake and wiggle her wrists to get the bad feelings out.

He appreciates that a lot. She’s always here for him, even when it’s hard for her, but never makes a big deal out of Steve’s tics in a way that would just make him more upset.

Steve wants to try something to make him feel even better though, using one tried and true trick, “Can we -fuck- no. Can we sing a song?”

For probably the same reason he has so many musical tics, music therapy and singing works really well for Steve. It soothes some part of his brain that is otherwise quite unpredictable. Not that it stops his tics, nothing but medications could, but it does make them a little easier to bear. Hell, maybe it’s just a coping mechanism and it’s got some placebo effect. Whatever the explanation, Steve wants to try it.

Chrissy of course agrees, though she asks first, “What do you wanna sing?”

“Magic.” Steve answers automatically.

He had first heard the song performed by a cheerleading animatronic mouse that looked suspiciously like his girlfriend, and it had rapidly become one of his all time favorites. Olivia Newton-John had held that position since Grease, and any love song of hers, even the ones he learned in an overcrowded, kid-infested pizza restaurant, was going to cement itself in his heart.

Though, and maybe it’s because he’s biased, Steve thinks Chrissy sings it much better than the mousey showbiz mascot.

She’s very gentle about starting, combing her fingers through Steve’s messy sleep hair, and humming a moment before she leads, “Come take my hand,

You should know me,

I've always been in your mind,

You know I will be kind,

I'll be guiding you.”

Steve’s verbal tics are calming down, no more shouts or squeaks interrupting the soft melody, but he does still have the motor ones. At one point, his hands try to go for Chrissy's mouth to stop her from singing, obviously not an intentional action, but one she intercepts softly, taking his hands and holding them loosely despite the way his body twitches and shakes her.

“Building your dream has to start now,

There's no other road to take,

You won't make a mistake,

I'll be guiding you,

You have to believe we are magic,

Nothin' can stand in our way,

You have to believe we are magic,

Don't let your aim ever stray,

And if all your hopes survive,

Destiny will arrive,

I'll bring all your dreams alive,

For you,

I'll bring all your dreams alive,

For you.”

Steve relaxes more and more, closing his eyes and just letting the words and the light harmony of their two voices take the tension out of his body.

“From where I stand, you are home free,

The planets align so rare,

There's promise in the air,

And I'm guiding you,

Through every turn I'll be near you,

I'll come anytime you call,

I'll catch you when you fall,

I'll be guiding you,”

In the midst, where the instrumental would be, Steve’s tics decide to make a couple of beeping sounds. These ones feel like normal tics though. Not the violent, never ending electricity that courses through his veins until it hurts during a tic attack.

“You have to believe we are magic,

Nothin' can stand in our way,

You have to believe we are magic,

Don't let your aim ever stray,

And if all your hopes survive,

Destiny will arrive,

I'll bring all your dreams alive,

For you,

I'll bring all your dreams alive,

For you.”

Chrissy kisses him again as they finish singing their song. Finally, Steve feels at peace.

He also feels exhausted, and with the intensity of his tic attack stamped out, he’s feeling beyond tired. Looking up at his girlfriend, he can tell Chrissy is too after a night of sleeping alone.

“Pretty.” Is the short phrase he mutters to describe their song and the way it connected them.

Chrissy doubles the sentiment, “Mhm! You sounded amazing, lovely!”

Steve cuddles impossible closer to her, which he knows Chrissy likes, because it’s a sensation she feels in her own body, not one through Steve’s or anyone else’s. Plus it works much better at decompression when Steve lays on her than if she was just using the weighted blanket.

He also lets her know, “Feels better.”

“I can tell, honey. Get some sleep now.” Chrissy supports him, rubbing his back soothingly.

It’s not long before Steve is dozing off. Drifting deep into the rest hadn't gotten through his sleep last night. He’s probably drooling on Chrissy, and he’s definitely snoring, but they’re at a place where they can feel comfortable doing those kinds of things in front of each other. It’s a part of him just as much as his tics are, or Chrissy’s autism is part of herself.

Steve didn’t have any spoons to get out of bed this morning, but he didn’t need to. Chrissy would love him any way she had him.

~~~~~

For my final charity, I’m delighted to highlight the Autistic Self Advocacy Network!

“Nothing about us, without us” is their tagline, which represents their ideals that autistic communities should be organized and empowered to speak and advocate for ourselves, rather than legislators doing it for us. This of course means they have members who are autistic themselves.

Their goal of empowerment is achieved through means such as creating education resources, lobbying for policy changes, creating tools for self-advocacy to be possible, and providing leadership training to autistic folks. ASAN currently also is working towards getting funding for community events that would help autistic culture thrive, and conducting research on the best ways to give support. They publish reports and books to make their findings accessible and provide education among our own community as well.

On the ASAN site, there is access to updated information about current social issues that affect our community that can be accessed. You’ll also find a resource library there.

To support this network, there are ways to join the cause, such as volunteering, signing up for a newsletter, contacting a local affiliate group, or donating money.

If any of this information is of interest to you, visit the sit by clicking here.

~~~~~~

Now that that’s over, if you’re still reading this far, I’d like to thank everybody for the success of this event!!

My dear friend @intothedysphoria and I conceived this while we were going through a personal low point, and it means a lot to both of us that so many of you folks would be interested in or works!! And to those who have participated, thank you so so much as well!! We’ve been truly delighted by all the content we’ve gotten, and that warms our hearts. It’s nice to see our community coming together.

Fret not though! We may be nearing the end of this event, but there is an upcoming men’s mental health themed event in November! Additionally, we plan to do this event again next year!

Also, if you want to submit something but are worried because you ran out of time, that’s okay! For two or three days after the event, we’ll be checking the tags still to see if any new content has popped up! This is because we accept late submissions as long as we’re tagged!!

Once again, you guys have made this a dream and I can’t thank y’all enough!

Love from EJ ❤️❤️❤️

#disabledbillyandsteveweek #stissy #cheerscoops #steve x chrissy #steve harrington has tourette’s syndrome #autistic steve harrington #chrissy cunningham has synesthesia #autistic chrissy cunningham #my writing #ej writer #song fic

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sharkpupsblog · 1 year

Text

😨 Lost Horse! 🐎 PART 5. Out of the woods.

A Sabine x GN! Reader fanfic!

Finally!!! Silly Sabine shows up!!! So sorry for making u guys wait 4 parts 😭💔 also this feels … ooc to me . So sorry guys 💔 i am a bit rusty on writing for Sabine even though i wrote a fic for her like a couple weeks ago 😭💔 anyways i don’t have much to say today so enjoy! :D

Summary: You are woken by a stranger who leads you out of the forest.

Warnings: foul language and some hints to trauma.

You waved your hand in the air as you felt Khaan shake you awake. “Khaan give me five more minutes” you were really tired you wanted to keep sleeping. You felt the shake again, and you gently pushed Khaan away. You opened your eyes feeling panic as you realized whatever you pushed away wasn’t Khaan. The thing you pushed away felt like leather. You fully woke up when you heard a voice tell you to “get up!” You sat up almost bumping into the owner of the voice as you quickly moved to sit up. You gasped as you came face to face with a girl with long black hair and scars. Her eyes had an unusual amber coloring, and they were glaring daggers into you.

You blushed when you saw that she was wearing a leather jacket. You pushed her, you felt awful. “I’m so sorry!” You put a hand over your mouth as you realized you were being too loud. You lowered your voice “I thought you were my horse I am so sorry.” The girl looked surprised when you said Khaan was your horse. You looked for him, seeing him standing beside the girl. On her left stood a black Lipizzaner and she had the same bridle Khaan had. It had the same design and coloring. Khaan neighed lowering his head to sniff you. He pressed his snout against your cheek. The girl let out a groan as she stood up. She had been kneeling in front of you the whole time. She held Khaan’s reins in her hand.

You looked to her hand then to her giving her a ‘what are you doing?’ Look. She either didn’t notice the look or she didn’t care because she said nothing. The girl found you and Khaan sleeping she originally planned to take him without waking you. That is why she had his reins in her hand. She ended up having to throw that plan away after the Friesian made it clear he was not leaving you. She tried to lead him away, but as soon as she got three feet away from you Khaan laid down. Your horse was smart, he kept himself down so he couldn’t be led away.

“Get up” the girl said to you again. Her tone was strong it sent shivers down your spine. You were scared you didn’t know her, or why she woke you, or why she was holding Khaan’s reins. “Get your stuff and follow me” she grabbed the Lipizzaner’s reins with her other hand. You sat on the blanket watching her. You weren’t moving due to fear and grogginess. The girl gave you a look “what are you waiting for?” Should you follow her? You frowned as you got up. You backed up, so you could grab the blanket off the ground. You decided to go with her because Khaan was with you. You knew very well that if she tried anything Khaan would protect you.

The comfort of knowing Khaan would help you if anything happened made you more comfortable about going with her. Plus you really wanted to leave the forest so that was another thing that convinced you to follow her. You grabbed the blanket shaking it to get any dirt or leaves off of it. “Where are we going?” You folded the blanket as you spoke.

The girl watched as you put the blanket in your backpack and then the backpack on your back. She answered your question when you walked over to her. “We’re going to the fishing village” she handed you the Lipizzaner’s reins. You would have preferred to be leading Khaan, but you didn’t say anything about it. “Please lead the way“ you made a ‘go’ gesture, and she started leading you out. Finally you were leaving the forest, thank Aideen.

“-And that’s why we were in the forest” you had just finished telling the girl why you were in Goldenhills. You told her your mission, who you were with, and how you got separated from them. The girl whose name you learned was Sabine handed you an iced coffee. You took it thanking her, and you took a long sip of the coffee. Your throat was dry from talking so the coffee was heavenly. You were also still feeling groggy. You definitely needed the caffeine. You leaned against a railing, and Sabine joined you.

Behind you both Khaan and Sabine’s Lipizzaner ate horse treats she bought for them at the café. “You traveled all the way here with the Soul Riders?” Sabine laughed softly “and you survived the trip?” You laughed giving her a nod “surprisingly yes.” You and Sabine had been talking for a while. You found out you and her had a few things in common. The biggest one being that you both disliked the Soul Riders. “They were really nice to me and all but-“ you cleared your throat it still felt dry “they were always so positive even when they knew what I had to do.” You stirred the whipped cream at the top of your coffee with your straw.

“I tried to make it clear that I wasn’t happy at all and didn’t want to talk but they were too busy being happy notice” at least you hoped they did not notice. You really hoped that it was because they didn’t notice and not because they didn’t care. “They’re Soul Riders” Sabine took a sip of her coffee. It was black coffee and it was burning hot. You thought it was iced like yours since she was drinking it like it was. “I think it’s part of their job to always be annoyingly positive” she looked to you, and you looked to her. “What about you?” She told you she was a Dark Rider.

She had to tell you, so that she could explain to you why Khaan had red eyes and how she found him. She said she felt a pull in Goldenhills and that is how she found Khaan. It didn’t make sense to you until she told you she was a Dark Rider and that it was a magic thing. “Is your job the opposite?” You knew a little bit about the Dark Riders thanks to your dad. Sabine didn’t really explain what being a Dark Rider meant so you were going off of what your dad told you. You knew they were like the Soul Riders but very evil and worshiping a squid god who wanted to destroy Jorvik.

So far you didn’t seem to see anything evil in Sabine. She bought you a coffee, she led you out of the forest, and now she was here talking with you like she was an old friend of yours. “Yes, it’s the opposite” she looked at Khaan and the Lipizzaner from over her shoulder. “We get paid to be assholes” she looked back at you when you laughed. “You would love our team” she took a sip of her coffee “we don’t talk at all, and we are always unhappy.” Usually that was a good thing but lately it had been absolute hell for Sabine. Her loss of Khaan and what happened in Wildwoods really messed with her.

She wanted someone to talk to, but Jay was always busy, Katja was cold, and Sands had no care in the world for how she felt. She was also worried about how they would react to her wanting to talk. She never brought up the subject thanks to her fear. “We aren’t positive” she smiled when you smiled. She was talking to you not only because you helped Khaan, but because she really needed a distraction. “You’re smiling right now though” you gestured to her smile with your hand, and she rolled her eyes “I’m not working right now.”

She looked away from you shifting her focus to the sea. She was waiting for a ferry to get closer to the docks. Dark Core sent one to pick her and Khaan up. You frowned when you saw her look at the sea. You knew what she was waiting for. Would you see Khaan again? You knew you most likely would not. Sabine had to take him he was a Dark Rider horse he could not stay with you. “I should go now” the girl moved away from the railing walking over to a trashcan. She threw her cup away. “The ferry is getting closer I want to meet it when it gets there” after she got rid of her trash, the girl walked to Khaan.

The Friesian neighed when he saw his rider walking to him. Sabine could feel her eyes get watery. She missed her horse a lot she really wanted to cry. She wanted to cry tears of joy because Khaan was safe and back with her. She would have to wait until she made it back home though. You watched as she grabbed his reins and the Lipizzaner’s as well. You expected her to walk straight to the docks, but she walked back to you. She held out the mare’s reins moving her hand in a ‘take it’ motion. You took the reins from her, and you followed her as she led Khaan to the ferry dock.

You and Sabine waited for three minutes for the ferry to pull up to the dock. When it got there you looked at Khaan, holding your tears back. This was goodbye. No more deliveries, no more riding that made you feel like you were in a movie moments, no more braiding his mane, and no more naps together. You looked to Sabine “can I say goodbye?” The girl nodded letting go of Khaan’s reins, and she took the Lipizzaner’s from you. she watched as Khaan walked to you, and you said your goodbyes. You almost sobbed when he pressed his snout against your cheek.

You gently moved his head to your shoulder, so you could hug him. “I’m going to miss you” you whispered to him. Khaan let out a whinny, and he messed with your shirt sleeve. He didn’t want you to cry. You stood hugging him tightly for a few seconds. Even without Pi you still lost your horse today. You let go of Khaan when Sabine said it was time to go. You took a few steps back, but the Friesian didn’t move. Sabine reached for him. He quickly moved his head. He wasn’t allowing her to take him. “Khaan, we have to go you can’t stay” the girl was surprised by how her horse was acting.

The Friesian let out a snort moving to stand by your side. Sabine knew he didn’t want to leave you, but she couldn’t let him stay with you. You grabbed Khaan’s reins, and you walked forwards trying to lead him to his owner. The horse stood still not allowing you to lead him. You looked back at him frowning “maybe-“ you looked to Sabine “maybe we can work something out?” It was clear Khaan wasn’t going to say goodbye. He built a bond with you too he loved you too, and he wasn’t going to forget all you did for him and just leave.

Sabine huffed shaking her head “like what?” You pat Khaan’s shoulder “maybe I can see him whenever you’re around Valedale?” Sabine shook her head again, and she looked at the ferry. She hoped that whoever was driving it wasn’t getting annoyed of waiting for her. “I never go to Valedale” she looked back at you “if I did your dad would have me killed.” You tried to think of somewhere else to meet “what about the Everwind fields?” Khaan neighed as if he were agreeing with you on a place to meet. “It’s close to Valedale and a bit close to Goldenhills” you assumed she was living near or in Goldenhills.

You were really trying hard to come up with a way to keep seeing Khaan. Sabine looked at the Friesian, she wanted to say no she really did, but she knew that if she did Khaan would never forgive her for it. She let out a grumbled “fine” the girl’s brows furrowed “can we go now?” She really wanted to go home. She went eyed letting out a huff as you hugged her. Her whole body tensed making her look like a doll. “Thank you!” You were so happy you could see Khaan again that you hugged Sabine without thinking. When you felt her tense, you quickly let her go. You backed up to give her space.

“I’m so sorry! Um-“ you got your phone out of your pocket “do you have a phone number?” Sabine was about to ask you what for, but you answered her question without knowing she had it. “I can text you and you can tell me if you can meet up or not” you held your phone out for her to grab. It was already on the contacts list, and it was waiting for a new one to be added. Sabine took it from you, and she quickly put her phone number in. She handed your phone back to you reaching for Khaan’s reins again. The Friesian allowed it this time, and he walked to his owner. He knew he would see you again, so he had no objections.

“Thank you” you told her saving the number in your contacts before putting your phone back in your pocket. “I hope we’ll see each other again soon?” You wanted to be friends with her, you hoped she felt the same. Sabine nodded, giving you a smile. Maybe keeping in contact with you wouldn’t be so bad. She could use you as a distraction. She looked at the Lipizzaner when it neighed. Sabine hummed looking back at you. “You don’t have a horse, do you? To make the ride back to Valedale?”

You shook your head “I only had Khaan.” You tilted your head a bit to the side “why?” Sabine suddenly put the Lipizzaner’s reins in front of you. “Take her” Sabine had Khaan back, so she had no need for the mare. She never liked her anyways since it felt like she was replacing Khaan. “The ferry can only take one horse” she was trying to make it sound like she was doing this because she had to and not because she was being nice. “Are you sure?” You were wide eyed. You wanted confirmation before taking the reins from her.

Sabine nodded, putting the reins in your hand to show you that she was a hundred percent sure. “Take good care of her” the girl looked to Khaan, and the Friesian neighed at you. He was saying ‘see you soon!’ You gave him one last pat, and you watched as he and Sabine walked to the ferry. You waved her and Khaan goodbye when they were on it. After the ferry was gone you looked to the Lipizzaner petting her. The mare leaned against your touch. “What’s your nam-“ you almost jumped when you heard your name be shouted. You looked at the person who shouted your name. It was Anne and with her were her friends. They were running towards you.

TY FOR READING! :D

#ssoblr #sso #star stable online #khaansso #sabinesso #sabinessoxreader #sabinessofanfic #ssofanfic #mentioned >#annevonblyseensso #sharkpupsblogwrites!‼️🗣#lookingforssomoots💔#ivebeenwritingsomuchsoquick #meduelelacabeza

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emeto-secret-agent · 2 years

Note

13. Shaking or shivery

Florian had to pass through a snow storm in one of his travels and was shivering when he got home. Celia could help with him some herbal tea and cuddles

Thank you for the request! <3

@monthofsick

Warning: -

Novemetober Day 13 - Shaking or shivery

Celia never really liked the winter. Sure, it was beautiful in its own way, but the suffering it brought with itself was much greater in her eyes. The streets were flooded with cold and hungry people, no flowers or herbs would grow under the heavy blanket of snow and sicknesses haven’t seemed to die down. She worked the most in the winter months and was constantly anxious when she was going to get another new patient. She always did her best, but it was much harder to help everyone when she had to cut back on the herbs she could use and not everybody had the chance to have a warm room to rest in. And she was scared for Florian, even more, when he had to travel out in the heavy storms and only managed to get back home late. His guards took care of him, but even they couldn’t save him from nature’s rigid fist.

‘His Highness, the crown prince and his escort are back!’

The maid was on her feet the moment they heard the guards and servants' loud chatter from the main hall as they undressed from their heavy clothing and hurried inside, closer to the warm fire. Florian was amongst them, the snow still sitting in his hair, his face flushed from the cold, and gratefully thanked the servant who helped him take off his thick cape. He tried to unclip it but his hands didn’t obey him with the smooth movement. He must’ve forgotten his gloves.

Celia patiently waited for the prince with the other maids until he sent everyone away to rest and warm up while giving a fast report to his councilors. They seemed pleased, their trip must have gone well. Florian also smiled but Celia could hear out his voice shaking as he tried his best to stay collected. Celia quickly sent forward a maid to prepare a warm bath for the prince and she went for her herbs to make him a strengthening tea.

When Celia arrived back, Florian already finished up his fast consultation and was now heading to his quarters with a little army of servants behind his back. Their eyes met for a second and Celia caught his small smile before she bowed to him and the prince continued on his way. They’ll meet soon in his room anyway and she’ll be able to hug him tightly, feel him from closer than anyone else ever could here. Celia smiled as she imagined his cold, but strong body in her arms as his chilled-out lips softly pressed against her hot ones.

Not even half an hour later Celia was called into the prince’s private room. The guards haven’t even questioned it anymore, only gave her a knowing look as she walked past them. They were always so kind to her, she’ll have to repay it somehow. The prince was freshly out of the bath when Celia stepped into his bedroom, Florian only wearing a thick cloak over his bed gown, hiding under the heavy clothing for a little warmth.

‘C-Celia…’ smiled Florian at her when he noticed her step in as she quickly put her basket down, hurrying into his arms.

‘Florian, you’re back...’

‘Yes, I-I’m home.’

It was only a few-day-long trip but the castle wasn’t the same without him. Even if they couldn’t be together every day or even see each other, the thought that the other was close still gave them a little reassurance. As if they could always be at each other’s sides.

‘Florian, I love you, but your nose is freezing.’

‘Oh, sorry!’ leaned back the prince, but still holding her hands with icy fingers. ‘It’s just g-good to see you a-again.’

‘And you too… But you’re still shaking. Didn’t the bath help?’

Florian sighed as he shook his head. He tried not to show his shaking because he knew Celia would immediately jump on it, but his body was out of control. Not the water and not even the warmness of the room could stop it.

‘It was good, b-but… can’t seem to be able to stop the s-shivering.’

‘It’s fine, just your body trying to warm itself up. It should stop soon.’

‘Yeah…’

‘Do you want some tea? It should help you warm up. You should go back to bed in the meantime, I’ll bring it to you.’

Florian hesitated for a second before smiling at Celia and placing a soft kiss on her cheeks, freezing her face off during the gesture.

‘Yes, please. I’m sure i-it’ll do good.’

‘Just like always.’ chuckled the girl as she gently pushed him in the direction of his bed. ‘Now under the blankets with you. I don’t want you to catch a chill in this weather.’

‘If I do get sick, it’s already bound to happen.’ looked back Florian with a teasing smile and Celia just shook her head while laughing. Of course, they never would’ve wanted that to happen but for them it also would’ve meant more time to spend together.

The hot drink was ready in a few minutes, filling the room with the herbs sweet and particular smell. Even if Florian was a little skeptical at the beginning, he now got a liking to these drinks, especially when Celia’s dear hands prepared them for him every time.

‘Careful, it’s still hot.’

‘If anything, some w-warmth won’t hurt.’

‘It’ll if you burn yourself. Wait let me help you.’

Florian’s fingers were still shaking, his grip too weak to safely hold up the hot cup so Celia gently took it away and gave it a few blows before holding it up to the prince’s lips. They were still a little pale but life slowly started to get back into them. Florian took a careful sip before looking up at Celia.

‘You are spoiling me. I c-can hold the cup myself.’

‘What’s so wrong about a little pampering?’ chuckled Celia as she snuggled closer to Florian in the bed. ‘And you’re still shivering, I don’t want you to spill it on yourself.’

The prince scoffed but haven’t argued with her. He was tired from the riding and traveling, he was just glad to be finally back and in bed with Celia. With her next to him, somehow the whole world fell into place. The warm cup of tea disappeared fast and Florian pulled Celia even closer with a soft laugh. He was still shaking, his body trembling from head to toe every minute, but he was slowly warming up under the blankets and in Celia’s embrace. He pressed his face into her neck and cold feet on her legs.

‘Gosh, Florian!’ yelled Celia in surprise before bursting out in laughter. ‘You’re freezing me! Let go!’

‘Shhh, they’re g-going to hear you!’ laughed the prince as he tried to calm the girl down, but he wouldn’t take his feet off of her.

‘No, no! You’re killing me!’

‘Oh, hush you!’

Florian pressed his lips on Celia’s, freezing the words inside her. Her lips soon caught up on his rhythm and melted into his arms, successfully quieting her. The prince felt the butterflies exploding in his stomach as Celia pressed her face to his and leaned into his care, resting her face in the curve of his neck. It was so good to finally be able to hold her close.

Even the butterflies in his tummy didn’t want to die down as he buried his face into her hair. No matter how much he cuddled with her, the nervousness never seemed to die down. His heart beat fast and the shaking wouldn’t calm down, even under the blankets. If anything it only seemed to worsen. Florian swallowed the thick salvia in his mouth with confusion and the bitter aftertaste of the tea appeared on his tongue. Even the butterflies felt somehow heavy in his stomach.

But it’s surely nothing. His body is just trying to adjust to the new temperature. He slowly exhaled closing his eyes, but before he could control it a little burp escaped from his lips. Celia chuckled under him and Florian just shook his head. This is fine. Or would be, if only his tummy wouldn’t start to hurt for some reason. The heavy nervousness slowly turned into an ache that was quietly trying to climb up in his throat. Florian started to uncomfortably wiggle and Celia looked up at him.

‘Your tummy started to rumble.’ shit, he hadn’t even noticed that but Celia of course could feel it under her palm. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Y-yeah… ‘’m just a little…’ this time his voice didn’t shake because of the cold, rather than…

‘Nauseous?’ Celia quickly sat up and Florian gasped as the movement sent his stomach swirling.

‘Don’t know why, I’ve been fine.’

‘Well it looks like you can’t escape being sick.’ smirked Celia at the quickly paling Florian, before she grabbed his arm. ‘But now come, let’s get you to the bathroom.’

She didn’t need to say it twice, the next moment the prince was on his feet and with a hand over his mouth hurried to the toilet. The second he was on his knees and got his head over the toilet and long and wet burp pulled up a hot string of vomit from deep in his stomach which was quickly followed by another, bigger gush. He coughed and gagged, the bitter taste filling his mouth as he spat into the mess under him and sighed a little when Celia’s soft hands began to rub his back.

‘It’s alright, you’re alright.’ hushed him Celia as she held his hair back. She wasn’t mad nor upset with him suddenly throwing up the tea she made for him, only understanding and loving. ‘Just get it all up.’

And Florian sure did as another mouthful of his hot and burning stomach contents splattered in the toilet chamber in front of him. He spent another minute gagging and coughing but as he slowly managed to clear his mouth and get his breathing to calm down, the pressure also seemed to lift up from his belly.

‘How’re you feeling?’ asked gently Celia as Florian sat back with a confused smile.

‘I feel… good. Much better.’

‘Really?’

‘Mhm. My stomach hardly even hurts now.’

‘Well, that’s good to hear. Unexpected, but good.’

‘But it’s weird. Why did I have to throw up if I feel alright now?’

‘I’m not really sure.’ Celia tucked a few strands of hair behind Florian’s hair as she tilted her head sideways thinking. ‘Maybe the hot drink was too much for your stomach. We know you have a little bit sensitive tummy~’

‘Yeah, that’s right… Well, better than being sick, that is for sure.’

‘Indeed, my prince.’ smiled Celia at Florian as she stroked his lips with her thumb before gently kissing them. ‘Now if you’re feeling better, what would you say about us getting back to where we were?’

Florian softly laughed as he kissed her back.

‘I’d love to, my princess.’

#emeto #emetophilia #fluffy fluffy fluff #novemetober 2022 #prince florian #celia #don't question the medical possibility of this happening irl i honestly just made it up lol #established florian and celia #i needed this <3

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lovinkiri · 1 year

Text

Undercover Wild Cat, Wild Wake Up

Description: Feeling lonely and a bit concerned for Eijirou's sleep schedule, Sasha decides to wake him up the nicest way she can think of.

Author's Thoughts: Grammarly was being difficult, so I'm sorry about the mistakes. I'll definitely go back and try to fix it later, but I fixed as much as I could catch.

Art Credit: @.jabberwockyface

OC Credit: @jix-the-dragon

Sasha leaned against the doorframe of her bedroom with a pout. The same bedroom she shared with Eijirou Kirishima every night. The same Eijirou Kirishima sleeping on their bed, light snores left his mouth. His hair was messy against the pillow, and she could see his black roots, reminding her that she’d have to help him dye his hair again soon. They were barely noticeable, but she knew Eijirou liked to stay on top of that kind of stuff.

Walking over, she plopped down next to his large sleeping form. He didn’t wake up, and she giggled at how a strand of hair fell onto his face. His hair had grown so much since high school, now just below his shoulders. She reached over and tucked the strand behind his ear, pausing to admire just how beautiful he looked resting like this. He was the prettiest man she’d ever seen. Though, despite how pretty he looked while sleeping, she couldn’t help but miss those ruby eyes and how his lips curled into a smile when looking at her. She realized that she wouldn’t get to spend a lot of time with him if he slept through the day like he had been, and that by the time he woke up, she’d be fast asleep. She always had a hard time falling asleep without Eijirou cuddling her. Not only that, but he had work the next day and she didn’t want him patrolling in a state of exhaustion. An exhausted Eijirou was certainly not a happy Eijirou.

She thought about nudging him awake and sharing her concerns with him, but she began thinking of a better idea. Rather than abruptly waking him, she could do it more gradually. In a more naughty fashion. What better way for him to wake up than with her under the blankets making him feel good? This was something they’d discussed before, having given each other full permission to initiate sex with the other during sleep if needed. Hell, Eijirou seemed excited when they talked about it, and she’d woken up plenty of times to find him between her legs because he needed to taste her. Now, it was just her turn, and she would get her filling. Luckily she was dressed just for this too, only in her laced panties and an oversized shirt.

Slowly, she peeled back the blankets, looking at him hungrily as his sculpted figure was revealed to her, only wearing his black boxers. She’d seen his body many times before, but he was so attractive, she couldn’t help but stare every time he took his clothes off. She wondered how she got so lucky, having found a man who was not only the sweetest, most respectful person she’d ever met but was also so gorgeous. Somehow, she had managed to hit the jackpot when meeting him. She knew that if Eijirou was awake, she’d be saying these things out loud and he’d be blushing under her gaze. How he didn’t see how good-looking he was, that was beyond her.

She gently pressed her lips against his neck, slowly and gently kissing down his body, running her lips along every scar. His body told her stories of every rescue mission and every fight he’d been involved in, some of which she remembered having been there. Eijirou’s face somehow seemed to soften more and he let out a small, content hum. She smiled up at him and held in another giggle. Soft kisses were a huge weakness of his.

Curling her fingers around the waistband of his boxers, she began working to pull them down without waking him yet. Though he was asleep, he began shifting his hips, as if trying to help her. She did giggle that time, amused and endeared by how good he was for her even now. She’d have to give him lots of praise when he woke up.

When his cock came into view, she was surprised by how hard he was already. She wondered if he had been dreaming about her, or maybe his body was reacting to her kisses. Eijirou was always sensitive, squirming at the lightest of her touches sometimes. He had explained that he couldn’t help himself, he just loved the way she touched him, and that he still found himself blushing when she kissed his cheek.

“You’re so cute, Eij…” She whispered softly before licking up, from his balls to his tip. She heard him gasp softly, his legs spreading immediately for her. She smacked the tip against her tongue a few times before slowly sucking his tip into her mouth, only to pop it back out a few seconds later. This continued for a while, she was content to do this all day, enjoying the facial expressions he made. But when began tasting his pre, she noticed how hard she was, and decided to give him exactly what his body wanted.

The next time she took him into her mouth, she didn’t stop at the tip. Eijirou was big, so, of course, she took her time, but she was determined to take every inch of him into her mouth. She gagged a bit once in a while, but she didn’t mind, and she knew Eijirou didn’t mind her throat squeezing around his cock one bit. With every inch, her eyes flicked up to look at his face. His lips were parting, slow deep breaths escaping them as his face flushed pink.

Finally, her lips pressed against his pelvis and he exhaled deeply. She closed her eyes, trying to adjust to the feeling of Eijirou in her throat as slipped through her puckered lips. Her tongue writhed against the underside of his dick, wanting to make him feel good while she adjusted. She could tell it was working, hearing him groan softly above her as if urging her to continue.

When she felt comfortable enough to continue, she began bobbing her head. At first, lifting her head two inches from the pelvis, then four, until finally, she was bobbing her head from the tip to the base. It would only be a matter of time before Eijirou woke up, she figured. If the pleasure didn’t wake him, the sound of her slurping as she sucked him off definitely would. For now, though, Eijirou was still sleeping, moaning groggily as he did. The sound of his deep morning voice making such obscene noises was enough to make her clench her thighs, growing wetter at the sound.

Eventually, She was able to breathe steadily through her nose, that was if she focused. But it was hard with how raw her throat was becoming, feeling sore as she dragged his dick in and out of the tight fit. Her throat would surely be sore the next day.

“S… Sasha…” Eijirou moaned, making her look up at him through her lashes, expecting to see his eyes open and looking down at her. Her tail began to sway in excitement, but she simply met his closed eyelids. She moaned softly around his length as she realized he hadn’t woken up but was thinking about her, possibly dreaming about her. Even in his rest, it would always be Sasha.

She pulled off of his cock with a ‘pop’ and kissed from his tip to his base sloppily, her lips and chin covered in saliva. She started giving his balls small licks, moaning softly as Eijirou throbbed in her hands. Then she started suckling on them gently, moaning to add to the sensations she was giving him. Her hands began massaging his thighs, just the way he liked, her claws tracing hearts into his skin. Then she brought a hand up to slowly quickly pump his dick. She knew her fast movements would probably wake him, but she decided he’d slept long enough now, and she wanted to hear how good she was making him feel. It seemed to be working, as Eijirou’s head lolled to the side with a deep moan.

Eijirou was having an amazing dream. Sasha was making him feel good, talking sweetly as she took care of him, and he was able to lay back and enjoy it. The pleasure began feeling a little different though. Somehow, it started to feel more and more real. The Sasha before his eyes was suddenly gone, but the pleasure was still there. And then he was opening his eyes, he had no idea they were closed to begin with. He realized he must have fallen asleep while scrolling through his phone earlier.

The first thing he saw was the sun leaking through the curtains of their bedroom, so it was still day. The pleasure was still there though, and when he looked down, he found himself pleasantly surprised. His girlfriend lay between his legs, sucking at his balls as her nose nudged at the underside of his cock. It seemed as though his dream was a lot more than a dream.

Reaching down, he tangled his fingers in her soft blonde locks. When she looked at him this time, amber eyes met ruby eyes. Pulling away from his crotch, she smiled up at him sweetly. “Hey, Sleepyhead. You fell asleep on me, so I hope you don’t mind me waking you up…” She crawled up his body, his hand sliding from her hair down her back. “I wanted to make sure you’d be sleeping with me tonight. I know you can get restless when you’re up by yourself.” She kissed up his neck and jaw until she made it to his lips.

They shared a sweet kiss, Eijirou humming quietly into it. When she pulled away, she giggled deviously. He gave a slight smile, looking up at her affectionately. “You’re such a devious wild cat, you know that?” He murmured against her lips. She laughed breathily and sat up. Rubbing up and down his chest, then scratching down to his abs with just enough pressure to leave red lines trailing behind. He groaned and arched his chest into her hands, making her smirk.

“I wouldn’t be much of a wild cat if I was tamed, right?” She licked her lips and straddled him, his cock pressing against her clothed cunt. She mewled softly as the tip nudged her against her clit, quickly moving her hips to grind against him. “And don’t you like me when I get wild, baby?” She moaned softly, pulling off her shirt to give him a view and cool down from the heat building between the two of them. Before she could offer, his hands were already on her breasts, rubbing and groping the mounds eagerly. She gave a soft gasp as he pinched her nipples, and he smiled. Just the reaction he wanted.

“God, you’re so beautiful, Sash…” He praised her, looking up at her as if he worshipped her or as if she were a goddess. And she might as well have been with how enamored he was with her. He found a sort of divine beauty in everything about her. From her bouncing locks to her roaming hands, and her wet cunt that soaked his cock even through her panties. Every single part of her made him feel like he was being touched by the hands of a goddess. Hell, he’d go as far as to say she was a goddess, his goddess. The only goddess he’d kneel for, he’d pray to, call out for.

He wondered if Sasha knew just how much power she had over him. How she could do whatever she pleased with him, and he’d be just as pleased to accept. How he’d fall to his knees and beg for her love if she asked. But his goddess wasn’t so cruel as to deny him the love he so desperately craved, and she made sure to show him that. She was just as desperate as he was, after all.

Pulling her panties to the side, she took hold of his length and rubbed the tip against her slit. “Can’t wait anymore. I need to have you inside, Eiji, please.” She pouted, begging him even though she could easily have him at any moment. He didn’t know if she was teasing or being considerate, but he groaned either way.

“Fuck, you can have me, Sash. I’m yours, I’ve always been yours.” He said, his voice still scratchy from just having woken up. Eijirou’s morning voice always drove her absolutely crazy, she couldn’t resist it. Every time he spoke after waking up, it was as if she were under some sort of spell or quirk.

She pushed his tip into her with a small moan, and immediately drop down to take all of him. The stretch hurt a bit, she probably should have taken her time, but as she started bouncing on him, she quickly came to realize that the pleasure definitely outweighed the discomfort. From there, she couldn’t stop. Sasha was fit, so she had enough stamina to go on forever, and she was sure that she would if she could. Eijirou always managed to fill her up and hit all of the right places. She often found herself crossing her legs, suddenly craving him inside of her when she started feeling horny.

“God, Sasha, you’re so fuckin tight.” He growled softly, placing his hands over her hips, and doing it lightly so as to not disrupt her rhythm. His eyes were all over her, looking at every part of her body and face. Her bouncing breasts and beautiful eyes. Her supple thighs and her gentle hands. But he could not stop looking at her pussy, watching as she took him over and over again.

She gave a small cry each time she dropped back down. “It’s because you’re so tight, Eiji, fill me up just right. Make me feel so good, baby.” She panted, leaning down to kiss him passionately. He returned the kiss with vigor, pressing his tongue against hers after a moment. They exchanged sweet nothings between kisses, giving each other praises and love.

Eijirou pulled away and gave a broken moan, whispering against her lips, “I'm almost there baby, fuck.” He whined softly, his voice cracking. She gasped against his lips as his cock throbbed inside her gummy walls, her gasp turning into a breathy giggle. She didn’t dare slow down, determined to make Eijirou cum. “Ah, please give it to me, Eij!” She mewed softly.

He groaned, and it didn’t take him very long to spill his cum into her. The muscles in his stomach tensed and untensed, his hands gripped her hips, pressing her down on his hips and he ground into her. He was filled with an electricity that had left him short-circuiting. She whimpered quietly, feeling him grind against the deepest parts of her, filling her up with his cum so kindly.

She looked down at him, biting her lip as she examined the state of his skin-pricked body. His chest, ears, and face were flushed a pretty red. Just as pretty as his eyes, which were lidded and glazed over with love and ecstasy. She leaned down and rubbed her thumb against his cheeks. “You’re so pretty, Ei…”

Suddenly, she yelped as was flipped over. Eijirou looked down at her with lust-filled eyes, and now she felt like the prey. “E-E-ji?” She asked softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. Eijirou grinned down at her and chuckled at her expression. She almost looked innocent, but Eijirou knew better than that. She wanted this just as much as he did.

She whined softly as Eijirou’s cock slowly pressed into her once more, arching her back off the bed. She groaned softly, clenching his fists around the sheets. With every inch, Sasha felt herself further stretch out to fit Eijirou's girth. The redhead couldn't help but smirk and Sasha moved back against her, not bothering to quiet down her pleas. "Fuuck, Eijirou, more, pleease…"

Eijirou smiled at the way Sasha's cheeks puffed out into a pout and leaned down to claim her lips. His lips were soft and his tongue brought warmth and moisture to Sasha’s. Her noises swallowed into his lips, Sasha chose to curl her hands in his hair and give a small yank, humming in amusement as Eijirou grunted softly.

Pulling away, he looked at the desperate blonde beneath him. "Want it that bad, baby?" He chuckled under his breath. She frantically nodded up at him, grinding her hips up. "God yes, so bad.."

Shaking his head with a small smirk, Eijirou gave in and began picking up the pace. Eijirou didn't waste time before rutting his hips harshly against hers. She panted from the sudden change and threw her hips up with every thrust. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, euphoria blurring his vision once more. "S-Shit, y-yeah, just like that- fuck-" She panted, hands on his chest.

There was no mercy within those thrusts, only pure passion driven lust. Sasha bit down on her lips, now swollen from kissing, to muffle herself as much as she could, but it only did but so much. After all, Eijirou had his ways of getting Sasha vocal enough to his liking.

Eijirou knew just how to make her cum. He didn’t do anything just fo his pleasure, always being the first to put her needs above his. And that was what made him so irresistible. Slowly, everything around Sasha faded. She could only feel Eijirou's cock taking long, deep strokes against her walls before pressing into the spot in her that made her toes curl. She squirmed against the tall man and unconsciously started to mumble incoherent swears.

It was quite the scene, being close like this, panting desperate moans into each other mouths. But they couldn’t stop now, especially when Eijirou traced his name into Sasha's skin with his tongue, a searing hot sensation trailing behind it. And especially not ehen the blonde dug her nails into Eijirou’s back, unconsciously pressing her mark into him and leaving Hoodie with scars he'd have to explain at some point to his friends in the lockeroom at work.

At least that's what Eijirou told himself as he watched Sasha come undone beneath him, tongue falling out as her eyes rolled up. Hoodie groaned at the sight, his own eyes fluttering. She was tight around him, squeezing him just right. He fully pressed into her, a broken moan leaving his lips as he came, filling her up once more. She moaned and pulled him closer, wanting to feel more of his skin against her.

“Oh god, oh fuck, Eiji…” She whimed softly, nuzzling into him. Her plan was to have Eijirou a mess in bed, but here she was, whining into his skin. Eijirou didn’t seem to mind though, in fact, it was his goal. He wanted to return the affection she’d given him.

When everything calmed down, she looked up at him with a smile, laughing at how his bedhead seemed to get worse. She imagined her hair was probably messy too, not that she cared to much. She gave a soft hum as he pulled out of her and watched him slump against her. She began playing in his hair, closing her eyes and focusing on her slowing heartbeat.

“Now, we’re both sleepy…” He said, looking up at her from the valley of her breasts. They shared a laugh and he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Not that I’m upset about any of that. But I think it kinda defeated the purpose, you know?”

She nodded in understanding. “True, but…” She trailed off, looking down at him and winking. “Now we can fall asleep together.Or, who knows? Maybe the shower will wake up up.” She suggested, looking towards the bathroom connected to their room for a few seconds.

“Yeah, that’s if someone doesn’t get handsy.” He pressed, and she laughed more, rolling her eyes playfully. She did get handsy in the shower, but she couldn’t help herself. Her boyfriend looked so good, all of the time. What was she supposed to do? Not properly appreciate every perfect inch of his body?

“Please,” She started, running her hands from his hair to his neck, and then his back. She slowly began massaging to muscles, as if proving she couldn’t keep her hands off of him. “You’re just as handsy and you know it.”

He laughed and relaxed, nuzzling into her breast as if hiding away from the contradiction she’d pointed out. They laid there together in silence for a while. They knew they had to get up tpo shower, and they would in time. But for now, why would they rush to leave their shared embrace?

And they both knew what would happen in that shower. So, why not take a breather first?

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #smut #Undercover Wild Cat 💕#oc x eijirou kirishima

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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 2 years

Text

I posted 225 times in 2022

That's 172 more posts than 2021!

31 posts created (14%)

194 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@darthferbert

@cestcirque

@mrs-kurooo

@dragonslayer-5fanfiction

@heich0e

I tagged 167 of my posts in 2022

Only 26% of my posts had no tags

#haikyuu x reader - 87 posts

#haikyuu!! - 64 posts

#haikyuu fluff - 51 posts

#haikyuu - 49 posts

#haikyuu imagines - 35 posts

#hq x reader - 34 posts

#haikyuu headcanons - 31 posts

#haikyu x reader - 24 posts

#sharkie talks - 13 posts

#haikyuu siblings - 12 posts

Longest Tag: 119 characters

#there were so many songs i wanted to add and couldn't because i didn't have the letters or i didn't have enough of them

My Top Posts in 2022:

BEING IN LOVE WITH BOKUTO

Your hand reaches blindly in the dark, patting the empty space between you. Bokuto isn’t where he usually is on the bed. Reaching further than you anticipated you finally found his hand. You link your pinkies and give a light squeeze. The canopy hanging above you filtered the moonlight enough to cast light glow across the bed. You snapped out of your aimless gaze, feeling a light tug on your pinky. Your head turns to the other occupant of the bed.

“I thought you were sleeping.” Your voice croaks as you squint your eyes. He rubs his eyes and turns on his side.

“Your thoughts are loud.” He pauses brushing some hair behind your ear. “What’s going on in your head?” His voice is gravelly and not quite all there yet.

“Ko, do you remember when you were little and you couldn’t wait to get on the swing at the playground?” You turn on your side and tuck your hand under your pillow. You barely make out the nod. “And then you get on the swing and you’re so excited that you go as fast and high as you can?” You pause mimicking the swing motion.

“Yeah. Sometimes my balance wasn’t great and I fell.” He laughs. You smile slightly and chuckle with him.

“And then you get high enough and you want to jump, but your heart starts pumping really fast. And then you get this excited but scary feeling?” You look wistfully at your intertwined hands. “That's what falling in love with you, being in love with you is like. Exciting and scary, and sometimes I fall, but you’re always there to help me back up.” You pause, taking a deep breath. “It’s like every time I got on the swing, every day I wake up, it's a new adventure for me with you.”

“Baby!!” He coos sitting up and cupping your face. Your cheeks burn beneath his hands and he peppers places quick kisses wherever he can reach. You giggle turning into his palm. “I didn’t know you felt like that! What brought this on?”

“You were asked today what being in love is like. So I’m thinking about what being in love with you is like.” Your gaze bounces between his eyes, trying to catch all the emotions swirling around in them. You couldn’t quite catch them all before you’re distracted by his smile, lighting up the room.

“I love you baby so much.” He places a final kiss on your lips before laying down and pulling you into his arms.

232 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

Haikyuu Headcannons 3

Osamu

Is always freezing at night, needs like five blankets

Can sleep through any noise due to living with Atsumu

Has floral bedsheets

Has a boba tea plushie that he NEVER sleeps without, even when the team goes away, he brings it with him

Has worn leggings on a dare, and found them super comfy, so sometimes when he’s alone he wears them

Love thunderstorms, especially the rolling thunder, finds it peaceful

He is a major Star Trek nerd, has seen all the movies and shows, from the very beginning

Won’t admit it, but is a good photographer

Always carries a polaroid of his S/O, either in his wallet, phone case, or hat, depends on what’s going on

Definitely has knee high high blue fuzzy onigiri socks

Also has a fuzzy Gudetama blanket that he brings with him everywhere, like his boba plush

His ears are super sensitive, to literally everything

Speaks Arabic, fluently, and sometimes slips into it when he’s arguing or passionate about something

He snorts when he laughs

He has a crazy good green thumb, not only can he grow anything, he can also revive just about any almost dead plant

He loves crime shows, he will binge them

See the full post

323 notes - Posted March 13, 2022

Adlers Manager Dating Kageyama

Sorry this is so late, I've had major writers block, and yeah, anyways here we go. This is for the Can I Speak to the Manager? Collab by @momochimo

He's so quiet, like he just watches you after you come onto the team

He's just trying to figure you out

You always go out of your way to talk to him and ask him how he’s doing, like you’re always waiting at the door to greet him

He always keeps his answers short, not to be rude, but he’s awkward and anxious

He does look forward to talking to you though

Unrelated, but he has women throwing themselves at him all the time

He's not inexperienced, but he prefers to have a steady relationship

His love language is an act of service and quality time. Like he prefers gestures, like lemon slices in his water, making sure you have his favourite snack in your bag on trips, making sure you have a blanket because he gets cold, his hands especially

He takes time to get used to physical touch, but he prefers small acts of pda, like sharing a jacket pocket or hand on the small of your back

He is definitely caught off guard with his feelings, but literally everyone but you can tell

He courts you before actually dating you

Things like leaving a sandwich in your bag, but not telling you who it’s from

Is super eager to meet and talk to your sibling/family/friends when you bring them to practise, even though he barely talks to you

Offers to stay and help you clean up after

Honestly it takes you a while to figure out that he's courting you, but once you do, you two have a talk

BOOM YOU’RE DATING

Now there aren’t any rules against it, but you two keep on the downlow

They have a game against the Jackals and he's super nervous and excited

From across the court, as the Jackals walk in, Hinata clocks you two

You’re not event standing near each other, he’s warming up, and you’re talking to coach

Like he just yells: “wow Kageyama, your S/O is so nice! Are they getting dinner with us after?”

The whole team just whips their head to Kageyama and is like “huh???? Who????”

Kageyama blushes and pulls his jersey up to his nose

Hinata, just points and goes: “Your manager over there,” then turns to Kageyama and “Why are they surprised? Do They not know?”

Like cute head tilt

Kageyama is fumbling for an answer when you walk up and place your hand on his back

“Are you okay? You don’t look too well…” Like you don’t fully know what is causing him to look this way

“He’s fine”, Hinata waves off your concern, “Just embarrassed. I’m Hinata, it’s nice to meet his partner. I don’t know how you put up with him.” He paused hearing Meian call him, “I have to go.”

See the full post

350 notes - Posted June 20, 2022

How the boys react when they fart around you.

part 2

A/n: there's a headcannon thats how the boys react when you faint in front of them, by @haikyuu-philia but every time I glance at it, I think it says fart instead of faint. And then I thought how would they react if they fart. Anyways, this might break my writers block.

Tsum tsum: he would trap you under the blanket and laugh. Those siblings tendencies never die.

Hinata: would crop dust you, 100% and just go on with his day. It's a normal body function and he wouldn't think twice

Bokuto: would turn away from you and fart, his sister taught him its not nice to fart on others. On the plus side, he always says excuse me.

Daichi: absolutely embarrassed. Like he knows it's normal, but he's embarrassed. Red face, refuses to meet your eye.

Sugawara: farts on you and then looks you in the eye and says "we're close now."

Kita: I was going to say he never farts, but you know what, he has the stinkiest farts of them all. He tries not to do it around others, but you know they sometimes slip out. He does have the decency to excuse himself though.

Kuroo: runs to the bathroom anytime he has to fart. Refuses to fart around others.

Oikawa: has the loudest farts right after he wakes up, but other than that he doesn't fart.

Iwa: once in a blue moon, when he's not feeling well. And they always stink.

Matsukawa: does that thing where he farts and cups it, and puts on someone. He does it to his siblings a lot, and they GAG.

Hanamaki: rarely farts, but when he does it's the like continous motorboat ones?? Sometimes it's funny. Won't lie.

Kenma: silent farts that stink up the room and gag anyone walking in, but only when he's super anxious

Kageyama: very dainty farts. And he always turns red in the face. Tries to pretend that it didn't happen.

383 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

How they react if they fart around you 2

Part 1

Osamu: he lifts his leg to fart, usually on his brother. Did it once to you out of habit, and like wanted to melt into a puddle. You thought it was funny.

Ushijima: one loud fart. Doesn't necessarily stink, but startles everyone. He's just like -_- my apologies.

Tendou: honestly, just has little toots. And they're so cute, and you both just giggle.

Aone: farts at night. Is super embarrassed, but like they don't smell?? So you just give him kisses

Futakuchi: stink. And he usually tries to get to the bathroom but on the occasion he can't he gets embarrassed bc you tease and pretend you can't breathe.

Goshiki: consecutive toots and his face is red the entire time.

Yaku: silent and deadly. Doesn't say anything either. Let's everyone pin on someone else.

Ennoshita: super respectful, and like only toots in the bathroom.

Tsukishima: refuses to fart in front of anyone. Would rather die

Lev: farts in the tub and laughs at the bubbles. Like a three year old.

Kunimi: sits right on you and farts. Snickers to himself about it too.

Kindaichi: elegantly farts and excuses himself with red ears.

Aran: bends over and farts. Is embarrassed but doesn't let it show. Excuses himself and continues.

Ukai: farts without embarrassment, only in your house. Says excuse me and moves on.

Suna: he squats in front of you and let's one rip. No shame. Laughs in your face as you sputter.

Asahi: sits down one slips out. Wants to ascend at the very moment, a juicy sounding one too. You laugh and tell him it's fine.

394 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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munstysmind · 2 years

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All of them. For chris and maddie. I'm loving on them hard core today.

I will never tire of talking about Maddie and Chris!!

Who pulls the other closer while sleeping?

They start off cuddled with each other, have since the first time they shared a bed together as a couple but the second one of them drifts apart Maddie seeks out Chris’ touch so he doesn’t even get the chance to pull her back in.

How do they wake up next to each others Eg: angled in each other's arms? Is one falling off the bed? ect.

They’re either snuggled up together in some way, Chris holding Maddie tight to him, her pressed against his back, her snuggled into his side with her head on his shoulder or Chris is on his back while Maddie is in a ball wrapped up in blankets. There’s no in between.

There was one time Chris woke up right on the edge of the bed with Maddie wrapped around him like a koala pressed into his back. That was a task untangling her from him without making her so he could get up for the toilet.

What movie do they watch when they both had a bad day and just want to turn off their brains for a little while?

Anything comedy. They’re both big Eddie Murphy fans. Maddie grew up watching 70’s and 80’s British comedies.

Who picks something up, says a pun with the object then laughs as if it's the funniest thing they ever heard?

Chris. He has a catalogue of dad jokes he’s always pulling out.

How do they hype one another up?

They both praise and compliment each other. Maddie thrives on it, which to Chris makes sense because she’s never had it from her partner before. He suspects she may have a praise kink but needs to “research” further before he can come to a conclusion.

Maddie is extremely supportive by nature. He was recently nominated for a few awards for Captain America. When she found out she told him quietly and cautiously that she was proud of him and he swears his heart melted on the spot. Here she was with the sweetest look on her face while she was nervously picking her thumb nail, because of course Travis was a prick to her for saying she was proud of him. Chris was over the top when he thanked her, peppering kisses all over her face, making her giggle, before giving her the biggest hug. That one small moment made her comfortable enough to start complementing him on random things which he appreciates a lot because his anxiety makes him second guess himself a lot.

When one of them gets a new outfit, how does the other react?

Maddie recently got a dress for an event that she was very unsure about because 1, it’s a style she’s never worn before and 2, she’s not very comfortable wearing dresses to begin with. Chris’ jaw just about hit the floor when she showed him. To be fair, the man thinks she looks amazing no matter what she wears.

Who tries to playfully scare the other person and who always knows where the other person is?

Chris refuses to even try because he’s scared to trigger a panic attack. She’s still extremely reactive to sudden loud noises.

Maddie has jumped out at him once. He squealed, he denies he did but she knows the truth, and dropped the pile of dirty clothes he was carrying. He’s never seen her laugh so much.

When they grocery shop, what is one section they love to plaufully mess around in and why?

They’ve only been out in public together on their own a few times and it wasn’t to a grocery store.

When their partner has a bad day, what is something the other picks up to try and make their day a little better? Eg: fast food, flowers, a punny card, ect.

The few times Chris has been aware she’s having a bad day he’s 1, sent flowers because he couldn’t be there in person 2, ordered take out at 2pm because she hadn’t eaten all day and it’s the only thing she wanted and 3, let her rest and did all the chores he could find to take the load off her.

Who runs up and hugs their partner while the other catches them?

Maddie. Her newest thing is jumping on his back for a ride when he’s least expecting it. She just loves hugging him.

What song reminds them of each other?

They don’t have any songs they associate with each other, yet

Who presses their nose against their partner's cheek before kissing them?

Chris. He has this thing he started doing early in their relationship where he brushes his nose against hers as a non verbal way to ask for consent before kissing her and it extends to cheek kisses. Not temple or forehead kisses though for some reason.

What small quirks do they love about each other?

Chris loves how she has a very specific process when eating her food. She eats from the outside in. She hasn’t really seen any of his little quirks yet.

Who accidentally snorts when they laugh and that makes both of them laugh harder?

Maddie.

What are somethings that they do for one another because they know their partner hates it? Eg: do the dishes, phones to make an order, talks to sales clerk, ect.

While Maddie loves making her bed every day when she first gets up, she despises changing the sheets. He always makes sure he changes her setts before he leaves after each visit. She also hate drying dishes. So much so she’ll just leave them on the drying rack until she needs to use them. Chris always dries and puts them away when he sees them on the rack.

TAGLIST @aussieez, @rookiemartin, @babeyyemor, @secretaryunpaid, @pixie88, @chickensarentcheap, @dhoruwolfie

#munstysmind #maddison original series #inbox #ask game

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Text

Pocket Angel

Bucky x reader

Okay, SO CUTE LOVE THIS. I decided to do a civilian reader for a change, I wasn’t sure if you wanted avenger reader, I can def do an alternate one with that later on hehe

Warnings: FLUFFFFF

Word count: 2.8k

A lil drabble

A lil part 2

“Have y’all noticed how he’s less grumpy? He hasn’t threatened to kill me all day, and quite frankly I’m a little upset he hasn’t paid attention to me” Sam mused, whispering to Steve, both men eyeing Bucky suspiciously while he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, sans his signature grumpy pout.

Bucky tried his best to keep his face neutral, but on the inside, he was giggling like a school boy. Just a few more hours and he’d be able to see you, hold you, kiss you; he had to keep his hand on his knee from bouncing in excitement.

He felt his heart leap, seeing a new message pop up on his phone. It was a picture of you wrapped up under a fuzzy blanket, wearing his Henley, the bear he got you tucked under your arm with the caption Missing my actual teddy bear :( His heart melted, looking at your pouty face, the sweet face that reminded him of home. He considered typing out a message, but decided against it, wanting to surprise you instead.

He hadn’t been away from you for too long; the mission had only taken a little over a week but you missed each other like crazy. Bucky thought about telling the others about you but part of him liked keeping you a secret from the rest of the world. It was like having a little angel in his pocket only he knew about, one that he could kiss and cuddle and keep all to himself.

The other reason the relationship had remained a secret was mostly because he was shy to even bring the topic up, plus Bucky never thought about dating, for a multitude of reasons. Aside from the danger and all that, he just didn’t consider himself dating material. Grumpy. Old. Staring problem. Didn’t know what a hash tag was. It was a miracle the team hadn’t shipped him off to a retirement home.

He hadn’t planned to start dating when he met you. It started with a trip to a small bakery after he was given the task to pick up Sam’s birthday cake two years ago. He knew he was a goner as soon as he saw the sweet girl at the counter, smiling at him. He couldn’t help but smile back seeing your bright eyes, and a touch of flour on your nose. You slipped him an extra cup cake because the blue frosting matched his dreamy eyes. You then clapped a hand over your mouth when you realized you’d said the last bit out loud. You were fucking adorable.

He found himself going back often, always leaving with extra goodies you’d sneak into his bag. Of course he insisted on taking you out as a thank you for always giving him something extra. And then you thanked him with a kiss on his cheek. So he returned your kiss with one to your nose. One to his chin. One to your forehead. And finally the sweetest one with your lips pressed together, standing outside of your door, reluctant to let go of each other. It didn’t take long for him to fall in love with you, his adorable little secret.

Sam’s face scrunched watching Bucky stare at his phone, trying to discreetly look at the picture you sent again. His cheeks heated up thinking about the way you’d attack him with kisses and cling onto him like a koala bear whenever he got back from missions.

The second the jet landed, he was speed walking to his room, again trying his best to keep a smile off his face. He quickly threw off his clothes, jumping into the shower and throwing on a clean set of clothes with in minutes moving as fast as he could so he could see you.

Everyone sat around the living room, sneaking glances at the all black outfit he had on, classic broody face, his bike helmet tucked under his hand as he left the building without making eye contact.

“Alright, what’s going on with Barnes?” Tony looked to Steve who looked as lost as everyone else. “He’s been quieter than normal, disappearing into the night, coming back in the mornings”

Steve shrugged; Bucky hadn’t told him anything out of the ordinary, though he did seem to be less irritable. Bucky became the topic of conversation as they tried to figure out what Bucky was up to.

“Maybe he’s seeing someone?”

“Who would date a silent moody staring machine”

“I mean if I was a girl…”

“What about if you were a girl…”

“He’s stares a lot but he’s hot! I could see how the whole lost puppy eyes and metal arm might be appealing”

“Puppy eyes?”

“He looks like one 90% of the time. Girls dig that; now pair that with his arm”

“You need help. Professional help”

“You’re telling me, if you were a girl, you wouldn’t hit that?”

“Ok ok, we can all agree he’s hot but a girlfriend? Don’t you have to be like…nice…smile…let people touch you without threatening to kill them?”

The team hummed in agreement, Bucky wasn’t the girlfriend type.

*****

You were wrapped up in your blanket with heard a knock at the door. It was late, you typically didn’t get visitors around this hour, unless…

You sprinted to the door, squealing and jumping into Bucky’s arms, nearly knocking over your sweet boyfriend. Bucky chuckled, burying his face in your neck, inhaling the sweet scene of vanilla that always lingered on your skin.

“Hey my angel” Bucky’s thick arms wrapped around you, sweeping you off your feet, kicking the door closed with his boot before carrying you over to your room. He peppered kisses all over your face till he reached your bed, flopping on top of you, pulling you close to him.

“I missed you so much babygirl”

*****

The team gathered downstairs, surprised to see Bucky arriving in the same outfit he was in yesterday. He wordlessly passed by them without sparing them a glance, the collar of his leather jacket coving his neck. Odd.

“So…what do we think he was up to now?”

“He’s in a biker gang”

“He’s in a cult”

“What’s wrong with you man?”

“More plausible than him having a girlfriend”

“Professional help. I’ll schedule you an appointment”

*****

Everyone gathered around the living room for a movie night, and while Bucky desperately wanted to ditch them and see you instead, he knew they were getting suspicious. He huffed, his arms crossed, pouting the entire time sitting on a bean bag while Steve bit his lip, trying not to laugh at the mini internal tantrum Bucky was throwing by himself.

Bucky groaned, getting up to grab another beer, reminding himself he’d be able to see you soon. Another hour of this and he’d be able to sneak out and cuddle you again, just one more hour. His phone rang, the lock screen lighting up on the coffee table. His phone never rang. Sam sat up wide eyed looking at the name that lit up on the top.

Pocket Angel

Everyone looked at each other wide eyed as the phone continued to ring.

“Answer it!” Tony hissed, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Do I look like I want to die?” Sam dead panned but he was curious too. And it was still ringing. And then stopped. And then a text message popped up.

See you soon bubba, I miss you x

“Oh my God, he actually has a girl friend!!” Sam howled, clapping a hand over his mouth when Bucky walked back, his eyes growing wide when he realized he left his phone back and there was a missed call.

“Whose your little pocket angel?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows with a shit eating grin on his face. Everyone stared at him, their eyes twinkling, smirking waiting for him to answer. Bucky’s face blushed a deep pink, stuttering, looking at the floor.

“I-I’m in a cult” Bucky groaned internally, you’re a trained assassin you absolute fuckwit.

“You’re in a cult…”

“Yup”

“Told you so”

“Will you shut up, tell us more. What is this cult about, what’s it called, whose the angel-

“I’m the angel?” Bucky rubbed a hand over his face; he didn’t even know why he was still trying to defend this.

“We know you have a girlfriend punk” Steve snorted while Bucky shifted, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “No wonder you’ve been sneaking around everywhere”

A small smile crept on Bucky’s lips, immediately vanishing when everyone collectively aww’d and whistled at him.

“Awwww he’s blushing!” Sam clapped his hands wildly; cackling, absolutely loving the way Bucky was getting more and more flustered.

“Fine, I’m seeing someone, can we please drop it” He grumbled, his cheeks still dusted pink.

“Absolutely not, who is she, why haven’t we met her yet and when do we get to meet her” Tony gave Bucky a pointed look while everyone else nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, who’s the mystery girl who’s putting up with your mood ass”

“How long have you been seeing her for anyway”

“2 years” He mumbled, only to be met with a bunch of yelling and 3 cushions thrown to his head.

“WHAT THE HELL BARNES”

“2 YEARS?! 2 FUCKING YEARS?”

“Invite her for the next movie night, come on, please” Nat pleaded. She loved the team, she really did but it would be nice to have another girl around for a change.

“If I invite her over, will you all shut up?” Bucky huffed, running off to his room, while everyone else cheered. A teensy tiny very itty bitty part of him was secretly excited for you to meet everyone.

*****

Movie night

Bucky left the compound on his bike to get you. The team started laying out snacks, everyone giddy with excitement to meet the one who was able to make the super soldier blush. As much as they loved teasing Bucky, everyone had agreed amongst themselves to be on their best behaviour. They figured Bucky was still working on showing his emotions and physical touch was still probably sensitive area for him. However he acted around you wouldn’t be any of their business.

“So we all agree, no teasing him, no making them uncomfortable, no one’s going to call him out for being grumpy?”

Everyone nodded, grinning at each other when they heard the faint rumble of his bike pull to the compound.

You clambered off his bike, nervously clutching onto the bag of cookies you had baked for everyone. Of course you knew who the avengers were, and you’d heard plenty about them from Bucky. He tolerated loved them, you knew you didn’t have to be scared but you were anyway.

“You okay angel?” Bucky felt your hands tremble in his as you made your way towards the entrance.

“Just nervous” You whispered, as Bucky put his arm around you, kissing the top of your head.

“They’ll love you babydoll, nothing to be nervous about. I’m the one who should be nervous; they’ll see what a sweet heart you are and wonder what you’re doing with me”

“Nope, I love you too much” You giggled, leaning into him as he led you through the compound towards the living room where everyone was gathered. They turned around, staring at you wide eyed, poorly masking the shock on their face. They weren’t sure what they were expecting but this wasn’t it.

“Everyone, this is my sweet angel, y/n” First of all, Bucky was smiling. An actual smile. He had his arm around you, gently stroking your waist as he gazed at you with heart eyes.

“Hi” You were tucked into Bucky’s side, smiling shyly at them, your hand resting on his chest.

Everyone greeted you, blinking, trying to hide surprise. They honestly couldn’t tell what was more shocking; he called you angel, he was smiling, he had his arm around you, he had heart eyes for you, what the hell? They were definitely not prepared for what was to come later that night.

Also you were adorable. You were a little ray of sunshine and it was just all too much for the team to handle at once.

“You guys can start the movie, we’ll grab a few snacks and join in a sec” Bucky led you to the kitchen while everyone was struggling to keep from screaming.

“He called her angel?!” Nat squealed, unable to contain her excitement.

“She’s so fucking cute!” Sam sat flabbergasted, glancing over his shoulder, watching Bucky hug you from behind, his head resting on your shoulder, face buried in your neck.

You returned with the cookies on a plate (immediately all gone within seconds), sitting on the couch with Bucky as the movie started to play. You kept a bit of space between Bucky, not sure if he’d be comfortable with sitting to close to him when everyone else was round. You squeaked, feeling his arm pull you onto his lap, kissing the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you to cuddle you. You giggled, feeling his beard tickle your skin as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“Bucky it tickles” You whispered, squirming in his lap, to which he chuckled, holding onto you tighter.

“Too bad, want to cuddle with my baby” He smirked, peppering your cheek with kisses, completely in his own world with you. He cupped your cheek, pressing a sweet soft peck to your lips before you snuggled against him, relaxing in his hold.

No one. Absolutely no one paid attention to the movie, except you. Bucky’s focus was entirely on you, hugging you close to him, kissing you every chance he could get. Everyone else’s focus was on the two of you, specifically on Bucky and how love drunk he was for you.

“You want anything angel, I can make you some hot chocolate” Bucky wouldn’t have even been able to tell you the genre of the movie they were watching, all he wanted to do was cuddle with you and take care of you all night. “Come doll, I’ll make you some”

Bucky effortlessly lifted you into his arms, carrying you into the kitchen, setting you onto the counter while he got started on heating up some milk.

“Who the hell is this guy” Tony hissed, whispering to Clint watching Bucky tuck a hair behind your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist, whispering in your ear.

“Seriously, can someone explain?” Tony looked to Steve who was blushing, watching Bucky swipe whipped cream onto your nose, kissing it off right after.

“He wasn’t like this in the 40’s, I can’t explain this”

When you both returned, Bucky pulled you into his lap again, his lips brushing your cheek.

“I love you” He whispered, while you giggled, your eyes still on the screen, his eyes on you. You hummed, your face heating up when he hugged you tighter.

“Doll, I love you” He nuzzled his nose into your neck, trailing kisses onto your skin.

“Bucky, watch the movie” You hissed, trying to contain you laugh over the way your needy boyfriend pouted, wanting you to say it back. He cupped your face to make you look at him, his cheeks flushed, a goofy grin on his face because he was so utterly in love with you. And you where here. With his family. He no longer had to keep it a secret, he could show you off to the entire world, his perfect sweet angel.

“I love you y/n”

“I love you my Bucky baby” You whispered, smiling softly, wrapping your arms around him, kissing his forehead before snuggling into his chest, sleep starting to creep up on you. You let out a little yawn, to which Bucky grabbed the fuzzy throw blanket, pulling it on top of you.

“You sleepy baby?” You shook your head, though you closed your eyes, the warmth of his arms and the steady beat of his heart started to lull you to sleep. Bucky smiled at the way you were curled up on him, kissing the top of your head, stroking your hair while you slept. “M’so lucky to have you angel”

A whimper and obscene snorting noise interrupted everyone’s focus from you and Bucky, Tony, Nat and Clint, turning around to see Steve reach for the box of tissues, grabbing one before passing it to Sam, quickly dabbing his eyes and blowing his nose.

“For fucks sake, are you two crying?!” Clint’s face scrunched up looking at Sam trying to discreetly wipe his eyes, sniffling into his tissue.

“I-It’s the movie” He stuttered, Steve nodding his head vigoursly in agreement.

“We were watching Rush Hour, what the hell were you crying about” Tony snorted, turning off the TV and the movie came to an end. The team looked back to the couch where Bucky had also fallen asleep, with you tucked safely in his arms.

“They’re so cute” Nat gushed, seeing you nuzzle into Bucky’s chest even in your sleep.

“So that’s his little secret” Clint mused, as everyone started to quietly get up, not watching to disturb you both.

“You okay there ice pop?” Tony snickered looking at Steve who was looking at you both like a proud mother hen. Steve nodded, sniffling watching the two of you snuggle each other, blissfully in love. The name Bucky had for you was perfect, you really were his angel.

Adding this mini bonus because I can see it happening, @anghstybean you inspired this 🥺

He’s such a teddy bear.

Imagine you come around the compound more and the team sees just how soft he is for you.

Sam and Tony collectively lose their minds when they hear you call him Bucky bear, baby bear, cinnamon roll, Jamie, he’s too in love with you to care that they call him that now too.

Imagine the hydra agents face when Tony tells baby bear to go to the west wing and they see all 6ft + of the winter soldier burst through the door.

Pillow forts. Esp after missions.

He cooks for you on his days off (and it’s amazing, Sam’s sister has taught him a few things)

Foot rubs. Back rubs. He kisses each toe while gently squeezing your feet. He grazes your back while lying down on his chest, the both of you watching TV.

And it never gets easier for the team to watch because just when they think they’ve seen it all, Bucky does some cute shit and their surprised all over again.

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed! (also this is an 18+ blog, I can’t tag nameless/ageless blogs)

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @needybabygirlstuff @goldylions @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @high-functioning-lokipath @elle14-blog1

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tteokdoroki · 2 years

Text

+ the one in which satoru gojo tries and fails to break your heart.

— warnings: none! just angst + gn!reader.

“you’re lonely.”

your voice is shaky, unwillingly and understandably so. it echoes the pain you’ve felt for far too long, the thick black and blanketed sadness thats hollowed your soul over time— it echoes loud and clear in the room full of memories and furniture assembled on in-door date nights and trinkets from overseas or international travels. sound should not echo in a room that was once so full of love, there should be no space to for it to carry.

the wielder of the six eyes doesn’t move and if it weren’t for you knowing him like the backs of your own hands— you wouldn’t be able to tell how he twitched with the emotion he thought he could conceal. the curve of his lips every so slightly, though his eyes stay hidden behind the gauze… that’s what gives it away. that’s how you know.

you know that he’s lonely.

“you’re lonely, gojo. so lonely, that you won’t let yourself be happy, let yourself be loved.” you surprise yourself with how sturdy your body is despite the salty tears stinging at your cheeks and the burn in your throat from holding back— but even satoru is somewhat astonished. you, his precious, holding yourself together when he knows that you truly want to fall apart like the pieces of your heart he holds in your hands.

“how do you know that?” the sorcerer replies, voice smooth and silken— dare you detect amusement that you know is just a façade.

“i know that because i know you, because i have loved you when you thought no one else could,” you step forward and it burns in your chest when the white haired man steps back. though, his denial of your embrace doesn’t stop you from continuing. “and year after year i would give you every ounce of my heart because you deserved it, satoru.” you are not a sorcerer, you have no cursed energy to read gojo— see what parts of the words you pour straight from your heart, into his own. you can read him like an open book despite the masks he wears to cover his true emotion— and hide why he truly came here to break your heart tonight.

it almost makes him feel like you’re a sorcerer.

“i don’t love you. you shouldn’t love me.” why do you make things so hard for him? why do you make it so hard for him to protect you? make satoru gojo heavy in the limbs and make his heart run a mile a minute and weakest in the knees. he’s meant to be the strongest, was never meant to fall in love let alone for someone who couldn’t stand their own against a curse. he was meant to be the strongest and the strongest don’t ever fall—

“but i do, i always have,” you step closer and satoru is too frozen in place to move— his six eyes focused on the flicker of cursed energy residing within you— how it spikes with emotion directed towards him. “you’re the strongest, satoru. you’re satoru gojo,” you say sadly, clinging onto strings of him and the little red string you believe has tied you both to one another like fate. “but oh my love, who is the strongest without someone to hold them up? who is the strongest without someone to lean on?”

you remind him too much of an old friend of his, one who loved him too much and asked him too often ‘who are you, satoru gojo?’

“i don’t know,” the white haired sorcerer whispers to himself, not realising how close you’ve gotten. gojo can see you properly now, not that he couldn’t before— but he looks at you this time, for real. he sees the painful pink that lines your waterline and the dried tears on your beautifully blemished skin and your glistening eyes that still hold so much love for him despite his trying in pushing you away from his twisted curse. “i don’t know, anymore.” he repeats with the addition of the last word, turning off the buzz of his infinity so your hands can rest softly against his cold cheeks.

you let your fingers slip under the gauze around his eyes, revealing his beautiful blue to you— the hollowness that resides amongst the sky in his eyes and how they turn cloudy when they look at you. like gojo’s afraid to lose you.

“then let me show you my love, i’ll show you how to be gojo satoru without being the strongest, only because you have to be.”

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Text

HSLOT PHILLY

Like, comment, share, and come talk if you enjoyed the fic.

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

Harry is predictable.

He falls into the same patterns during every tour since he was on the Up All Night with One Direction.

The excitement that comes with the first couple of shows begins to fade as he starts his world wide tour that doesn’t end for nearly eight months.

His constant adrenaline wears off and his exhaustion from not having toured in two years settles deep in his bones.

YN senses it from a mile away, has nearly eleven years experience dealing with her jet-lagged, exhausted, and stubborn husband.

It hits the day of the Philadelphia show, they got in late the night before, and YN always set her alarm for seven thirty in the morning to workout.

Ninety-five percent of the time, Harry got up with her and they either did a jog around the new city or they took advantage of the in-hotel gym.

Four percent of the time, he would whine and tug the comforter over his head, whimpering, “M’too tired, baby. Stay in bed w’me.”

And then the one percent, which was today.

The alarm emits a low, constant beep that rouses YN, in the time she takes to rub her eye and come back into reality - Harry hisses with a sharp edge, “Turn tha’ fuckin’ thing off.”

She bites her tongue at his tone, reaching to turn it off but she can already tell what day they’re going to have.

YN slips out from under the covers and automatically gets a comment from her husband, it another whiney demand, “Cover m’feet, y’too the blanket off them.”

“Yes, your majesty,” YN replies reproachfully, rearranging the blankets before quietly moving around the room to change.

“Stop makin’ so much noise.”

“Turn off tha’ light.”

“S’too early f’this, d’you not care that m’tired?”

She chooses to ignore the remarks, hoping that he can sleep off the attitude.

When YN is about to leave, he grumbles, “Y’need to kiss me goodbye.”

Harry purses his lips for a soft kiss, not moving a muscle, and after that - she leaves to head down to the gym.

YN is required a body guard, definitely when she isn’t with Harry or a group of people, and she decided not to follow those rules today.

She had her TPWK water bottle in hand, a cute workout set on ***, and her AirPods tucked in her ear with some Spice Girls playing.

It’s only about twenty minutes into her exercise, a light jog on the treadmill, that a young girl slips up beside the machine.

YN is kind, stopping the belt to smile for a selfie before the girl scampers off and she resumes her run - music blasting.

However, what YN didn’t know, is that fans had found out early in the morning which hotel they where at and a hoard was rushing towards the small gym.

It’s not even ten minutes later when a swarm of fans in rushing into the work area, lining up around her machine with their phones flashing and recording.

She tries to be nice, “Hey! Uh, I’m just trying to workout. I’m sorry, but no pictures please.”

Then there is loud protest and people shoving each other, begging and pleading for a selfie or for her to sign something - all because she was Harry’s wife.

There is literally no exit to escape to, so she relents and anxiously calls Frank - one of the body guards - to come retrieve her.

The whole way back up to her hotel room, Frank is lecturing her about safety and how she could have gotten hurt.

And when he scans the keycard for her hotel room, she feels her stomach drop because Harry is sat against the kitchen counter.

His brown locks are rumpled and going every which way, just in his briefs that are low on his narrow hips, and absolutely irate expression on his face.

“Are y’fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Harry snaps, brow furrowed and jaw clenched - his arms were crossed tightly against his chest.

“Good morning to you, sunshine,” YN mutters, shutting the door and kicking off her tennis shoes to the side.

“Don’t,” Harry replies sourly, “Please explain t’me why I get woken up by Frank to be told y’getting mobbed in the gym? And y’didn’t to call him.”

YN bristles at his tone, giving him a pointed look as she steps further into the room, “It’s not a big deal. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Y’right about that, y’weren’t thinkin’. It is a big deal, y’could have gotten hurt - shouldn’t have t’babysit m’own wife,” Harry huffs, stomping back over to the bed and sliding back under the covers.

“You better watch your tone-“

They’re interrupted with a knock to their door, Harry throws the covers over his head and leaves YN to open the door.

It’s Jeff, who barges in with a coffee in one hand, “Come on, H. Did you forget? You have soundcheck early today and then you have to meet with FullStop to review the details of that new merchandise contract.”

“No, move it,” The popstar groans, muffled from the heavy blankets over him, and his manager and wife give each other a knowing look.

“We can’t. Get up, we need to leave in fifteen,” Jeff replies casually, unbothered as he sips from his to-go mug.

It has Harry dramatically ripping off the covers and getting out of bed, as he charges off towards the bathroom, he shouts backwards, “Wish someone would have fuckin’ told me! Like m’manager or m’wife!”

“Oh my god, here we go,” YN groans quietly to Jeff, snatching up the few things she needs for the venue as well as Harry’s and shoving them in his duffle.

He comes out a few moments later, dressed in running shorts and a vintage Queen shirt - going to tug on his Nikes without a word to either.

But in true Harry fashion, even when he’s mad, he’s still a gentleman. He slips the duffle off his wife’s shoulder so she doesn’t have to carry it.

“Thank you,” She murmurs but he avoids eye contact, being the first to open the hotel room and trudge towards the awaiting car.

It’s a quiet ride, Harry looks out the window with a deep frown and puffy eyes - eyes heavy from the lack of sleep.

Usually, he’d be curled into YN - snuggling as close as possible and asking for her to pet his hair to soothe him.

Not today. But he does have his hand on her thigh.

There’s already fans at the arena and Harry doesn’t acknowledge them - keeps his head down and walks quickly into the private entrance past the barricades.

When a irritated fan screams, “Asshole! We waited all night here for you!”

YN watches as Harry goes to turn, to say something but she pushes him forward through the door to prevent him from doing something he’d regret when wasn’t in a foul mood.

They manage through the long hallways, filled with bustling tour crew, and everybody there to make the show happen.

Sound check isn’t as fun as it usually is, the band stays low-key when Harry does exactly what he needs to do and nothing more.

And after the merch meeting, Harry has reached his limit apparently.

He was so tired, so fucking moody that he couldn’t deal with anymore human interaction.

YN has to step in when she gets a text from Harry Lambert.

Come get your husband. Sarah’s Kitchen.

She sighs, excusing herself from hanging out with Jeff and Glenne - she can hear him from the hallway and now she’s finally get irritated.

“I asked for that specific brand. It’s literally one of the only things I’ve asked for on this tour.”

YN takes a deep breathe before stepping in, there are crew trying not to stare as Harry complains to Sarah about something unimportant.

“Harry,” She says flatly, “Come on.”

He snatches his water bottle and follows his wife out without another word, trailing behind until they end up in his dressing room.

“You need to stop. You’re being a literal nightmare today,” YN tells him, watching him as he digs in the duffle.

“Where is m’charger? Did y’not pack it?” He ignores her words.

“I must have forgot. Harry, I know you’re tired but you can’t be treating everyone like-“

Harry pushes back the bag, seething for no reason, “I’ll treat people however the fuck I want!”

“You’re acting like a spoiled popstar right now,” YN replies, attempting to stay level-headed and calm with him.

“S’my show! M’tour!”

“Yes and everyone is here to support you and you’re treating them like shit. Including me, I’m your wife - the one person in the world that’s here for you no matter what and you’re being downright mean.”

“Y’so fuckin’ sensitive,” Harry mutters angrily, digging around to try to find a charger in a different bag.

And…that stung a bit.

When he doesn’t get a response, he looks up and notices how her demeanor had changed - it brings him back to reality for a little bit.

“I’m not going to stay here and be talked to like that because you don’t feel good. I’ll leave you alone because you are being insufferable.”

“Bab-“

YN is already out the door, storming back to Sarah’s kitchen to apologize for her husband’s diva behavior and everyone shrugs her off - knowing it’s not her fault.

She is sat down with the band and a few others when her husband saunters in, he doesn’t look at anyone else as he walks up to his wife.

“Baby, can I talk to you?” He mumbles, his warm hand coming to cup her shoulder.

“Harry,” YN says back, they’ve been together for so long that those words are all she needs to say for him to formulate a response.

“Come nap w’me please, need you. I’ll apologize t’you,” Harry says, his palm encompassing and big on her.

“Harry,” She repeats.

The crew looks on in amusement as Harry huffs, he lifts his head and speaks loudly to the room at once, “I apologize for my behavior. I have no excuse for getting upset like I have been today. I hope you guys can forgive me.”

Everyone assures him that they forgive him, most of them have dealt with actual spoiled celebrities and Harry was just having a bad day (which still really wasn’t that bad.)

“Okay, come on, bunny,” YN agrees, satisfied and can’t help but smile a bit when she stands up and Harry automatically intertwines their fingers to hold her hand.

The sofa in his dressing room folds out to be a bed and they still had hours before the show.

Once they’ve locked the doo and settled down on the mattress - they’re both laying on their sides, facing each other.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” Harry whispers, “I haven’t been very nice t’you today. I was just upset about the gym thing and just being so tired.”

YN hums, combing throwing his fluffy curls with her fingers as his hands explore over her hips and belly like always.

“You always get like this every once in a while on tour, like a little spoiled popstar,” YN says softly, no sharpness in her tone, “You also need to be nice to your wife.”

“M’always nice t’my wife,” He mumbles childishly, leaning forward to nip at her chin, “I am sorry, know tha’ when I act like that it embarrasses you.”

“You’re better than acting like that,” YN reminds him, allowing him to tug her into his warm, now bare chest, “I’m never gonna let you turn into some fame monster. You’re gonna stay the kind, funny, compassionate person I met when I was young.”

And when YN doesn’t get a reply, she glances to see Harry’s eyes shut, mouth slightly parted as he breathes rhythmically and his entire face relaxes as he sleeps.

“Still my boy,” YN murmurs lovingly, nuzzling before letting sleep overtake her.

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mostlybarnes · 3 years

Text

It’s My Party, You’re Not Invited (Part Two)

Summary: The morning after Bucky threw a party, you confront him but it doesn’t go according to plan.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: more angst, arguing, Bucky is an asshole, language, not proof read, mistakes are my own!

Words: 1,567

Author’s Notes: Wow. I absolutely can not believe the support on part one! I’m so happy you guys liked it, and of course I’m always happy to give people what they want and since so many of you asked for part two, here it is! Really hope you won’t be disappointed, please let me know what you think. And don’t worry, there WILL be a part three. This isn’t the end!!

As you had predicted, you got no sleep. Your night consisted of you tossing and turning and occasionally groaning loudly into your pillow.

Your pillow was your closest friend, it captured your falling tears, and provided you with comfort when you couldn’t rest. The morning sun was pouring through your parted drapes, a new day was beginning and you knew you definitely wouldn’t be getting any sleep now.

Lazily, you threw the blankets off of you and sat on the edge of your bed, your palms on either side of you, digging into the mattress. Bucky not inviting you to his party shouldn’t have bothered you, but for some reason, it did. It was the reason you got no sleep, and you were annoyed by how Nat and your friends treated you last night. They were laughing and you couldn’t help but feel like they were laughing at you, even if they weren’t. Today would be the day you would confront Bucky, no matter what. But first, you needed a hot shower to try and wash away the tension that was rolling off your shoulders.

The shower itself would have taken a good ten minutes on a good day, but you spent almost an hour on the shower floor with your knees tucked under your chin and fresh tears disappearing under the shower head. Pathetic, you told yourself. Crying over something that wasn’t even your fault. How dare he treat you this way and make you feel broken. Speak of the devil, through the sounds of your cries and the water cascading down around you, your thoughts snapped back to reality when you heard his laugh from the hallway again.

Enough was enough with his games, you needed to know why you didn’t get an invite, it was just a simple little question.

Standing up off the shower floor with shaky legs, you turned off the shower and stepped out to grab the towel off the rail and pat yourself dry. In your haste to get dressed, your clothes were mismatched and your sweater was turned inside out. You didn’t care about that though, you needed to speak with Bucky. You needed answers.

You left your room and followed the sounds of the chatter coming from the common room. Your feet quickly carried you there, stopping in the doorway and noticing the room was completely trashed from last night’s shenanigans.

Broken glass was scattered over the marble floors, there were literally hundreds of solo cups all over the tables, there was even a broken window.

What the hell happened here? You wondered, stepping into the room, being careful not to tread on glass.

“Watch your feet!” Bucky warned, holding his hands up to halt your footsteps. “There’s glass everywhere.”

“No shit.” You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest and rolling your eyes. You heard him click his tongue as he worked on sweeping up the glass. “I heard you had a party?”

“Uh yeah, just some close friends and stuff.” He shrugged, and ouch if that didn’t fucking hurt.

“Really? I didn’t know you were– were close friends with people from…. statistics?” Anger was rushing through your veins, his nonchalant attitude wasn’t making this any easier and neither was the lack of sleep. You wondered what had happened to the sweet guy you knew. The shy Bucky who couldn’t even make himself a sandwich because he was afraid of being mocked by the other avengers. Or the Bucky that loved to sip herbal tea at 3 in the morning. Where did that Bucky go? Who is this Bucky? It was like a switch flipped and he changed overnight.

“What is this about, Y/N? You walk in here with some kind of an attitude problem and I’m tired, it’s early and I’m not in the mood.” He snapped and that was it for you. If he was tired, you were something else.

You stepped into the room regardless of the broken glass still all over the floor, not caring if any shards cut your feet as you stand toe to toe with Bucky. You shove him, but not surprised when he doesn’t budge.

“Where was my invite? What did I do to you to make you forget about me? It shouldn’t even be a big deal but–”

“Then stop making it a big deal! Is that what this is really about huh? It was my party and I invited the people I wanted to be there!”

“Wha– but you invited everyone but me!” You cried, your voice breaking at the end.

“Then maybe that tells you something.” He offers no sympathy to your state of distress. At least not to your face, it’s when you turn your back and he hears you cry harder does his own heart break. He didn’t mean for this to happen and the Black Widow’s footsteps behind him is about to remind him of his mistakes.

“You’ve really messed this up Barnes. I’m not sure Y/N will ever forgive you.” Bucky turns to look at Nat. Guilt and anger written all over his face.

“You don’t think I know that?! I did it to protect Y/N!”

“Well, what are you gonna do about it?”

“I don’t know.”

////

The day away from the compound was exactly what you needed. The air was refreshing and cold, biting against your skin. It helped to clear your thoughts that were running in circles since you talked to Bucky. You still didn’t have a clear answer as to why he chose not to invite you, and that bothered you more than anything, but what he did say replayed in your mind. You suppose he had a point, it was his party and up to him who he chose to invite but it confused you because you thought you were on good terms with Bucky. Did you get it wrong? Where did it all go wrong?

Your fingers wrapped around the mug as you sat in the corner of the quiet coffee shop with a friend as they watched you watch the world go by.

“Okay, what’s going on?” They asked, blowing into the hot liquid before taking a quick sip.

A deep sigh fell from between your lips. Your body and mind felt exhausted, it was hard to concentrate.

“I don’t even know. I feel like I’m overreacting.” You shrugged, licking your lips and looking into your coffee as if seeking the answers to your unanswered questions.

“Overreacting? Did something happen on the mission you just got back from?”

“No, no. Something that happened after that. You know Bucky, right?”

“Bucky Barnes?” They asked with a raised eyebrow. You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. “What about him?”

“I just– I– would you be honest with me and tell me if I’m overreacting?” You bit your lip nervously and your friend nodded.

“Of course! Tell me everything.”

True to their word, your friend sat and listened to every single word without interruptions or sassy remarks. They didn’t stop to ask you questions, and they didn’t make you feel pathetic like you felt. Talking about it out loud made you feel stupid, maybe it was stupid to get angry over something so small. That maybe deep down Bucky had a good reason not to invite you. Maybe you just weren’t close to him after all.

“I’m so stupid, aren’t I?” You shrugged, the wooden table becoming more of an interest.

“You’re not stupid. He’s stupid but I think he likes you.” Your head snapped up and so did your eyebrows.

“You’re insane! Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“Of course I did!” They defended with a smirk, “and here’s what we’re gonna try.”

///

Your friend’s idea was so stupid and this dress was far too tight for your liking. You felt like your your body was spilling out at the seams, a complete opposite to what you were used to wearing: comfortable clothing or pajamas.

Walking in heels was another problem for you. Any second now, you were sure you were gonna have to call Dr Cho because you had somehow broken your neck. However, after a few laps around your room, you felt confident enough to walk a few blocks in them. Grabbing a purse and a jacket from your closet, you staggered out of your room and into Bucky’s chest.

“Whoa there, you alright?” He asked, pushing you away from him. He eyed you up and down, making you feel naked under his gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I be? And what are you doing here? Outside my door?” You folded your arms across your chest, big mistake as it pushed your cleavage together and with the height difference, Bucky had a pretty good view. He was a gentleman though and kept (or tried) to keep his eyes glued to your face.

“I came to apologize. Where are you going dressed like that?”

“It’s a bit late for an apology. I got your message loud and clear from this morning.” You scoffed. “And I’m going out with my real friends, not that it’s any of your damn business.”

“A party?” He wondered, his jaw clenching at the thought of you dancing with other people that weren’t him.

“Yes, and you’re not invited.” You smirked, turning on your heels and walking towards the waiting elevator, ignoring his calls of your name.

Bucky watched as the metal doors closed, his hands tugged his hair so hard he was afraid he would rip it out. He’s fucked up, Natasha was right. There was no way of fixing this.

“Fuck!” He yelled, kicking a hole in the wall next to your door.

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potter-imagines · 4 years

Text

Left Waiting at The Three Broomsticks (Fred Weasley x Read)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: Hi! I was wondering if I could have a Fred Weasley imagine where he pisses off his gf somehow and so she gives him the silent treatment and only talks to literally everyone (including George) but him so he gets all jealous and pouty lol. Eventually he gets her to start talking to him again and then it’s all fluff etc. Hopefully this wasn’t a confusing request! Thank you!! :)

Warning: Tiny bit of sexual content towards the end, little bit of swearing, kinda angst at the beginning ?? and a lil towards the end ?? I think that's all, a lot of fluff scattered about

Word Count: 9.5k (I am so sorry I got carried away)

Two hours. Y/n had spent two hours waiting for him. Two stupid hours on a Saturday night that she could have spent elsewhere making something productive of her day but no. The last two hours Y/n had been seated in a small booth in the corner of The Three Broomsticks waiting patiently for her boyfriend, Fred Weasley.

The thing that infuriated her the most was that it was his idea in the first place! Originally, the couple had planned a stay-in date in her dorm room for the night before, Friday, but other plans came up. Fred got tangled up in a prank with George that had landed him in detention with Snape for the night. Yes, it annoyed her but what could she do? It wasn’t like Snape would excuse Fred because she tells him they have a date. If anything, Snape would hold him back longer.

When Fred and George were finally dismissed, it was nearly eleven at night and Fred was sprinting down through the dungeons to the common room. Their arrangement was for eight and he was praying to anyone listening above that she was still awake, but not furious at him.

Skipping up the transporting stairs, Fred basically shouted the secret password at the Fat Lady making her narrow her eyes at him. She swung open, not without muttering about how rude he was, and Fred jumped inside. Ten or so students were scattered around the common room, chatting amongst themselves. Hermione, Ron and Harry sat around the couch near the grand fireplace. They sent Fred a wave, which he frantically returned. The golden trio watched in curiosity as Fred darted up the stairs of the girl’s dormitory.

Hermione looked back to the group and asked,

“Wonder what that’s about- he seemed in a hurry.”

“Heard him and George got detention. They put stink-bombs in the Slytherin common room! Heard it stained some of the furniture maroon!” Ron chuckled at his brother’s antics then resumed his debate with Harry over their thoughts on the Quidditch World Cup happening every four years. Harry tried to explain the concept of the Olympics to Ron, but Ron was too focused on how amazing it would be for the World Cup to happen each year. Hermione went back to her studies, blocking out the mindless bickering of the boys.

Above the common room, Fred Weasley was scurrying to his girlfriend’s dorm room. He hoped Angelina and Alicia were out so he could be alone with her. Their time spent together had been oddly less than usual the last few weeks. Fred had no change of heart- actually, he found himself falling more in love with her every day, but their final year at Hogwarts was creeping up from the woods and he was working on a dream career behind the scenes with George that was eating up his time with her. He had shared this idea with her before- but it was just an idea then. Fred and George planned on putting their dreams to action once they finished up the next year. He wanted her to come- George did as well, but he didn’t want to mention it until it was a reality.

Reaching his destination Fred took a second to compose himself. A thin line of sweat was forming near his forehead. This was the first chance he had to take a breather since detention ended. Fixing his dark robes Fred knocked against the door, quiet enough not to startle her but loud enough to hear.

“Y/n… Y/n… love, are you awake? It’s Fred-“

Abruptly, the heavy wooden door cracked open and a weary looking girl poked her head out into the quietness.

“Darling, did I wake you up? I’m so sorry.” Fred stepped forward and wrapped the girl in a tight embrace. Y/n’s head fell against his chest out of instincts. His arms fastened around her waist as he invited himself in the room, slowly walking her back.

“Here, go back to bed, love. You look exhausted.” Fred led the sluggish girl to her familiar bed. Throwing back the covers, he readjusted her pillows so there would be room for him to fit as well. Fred then walked back to Y/n and took her hand softly. Kissing the back of her hand, Fred helped Y/n get into bed then slipped in beside her. His arms snaked around her body without thought. The naturalness of holding her in his arms made Fred feel confident in his dreams of starting a future with her. All the tension in his body collapsed when she leaned into his frame. Fred held her close and kissed the side of her cheek lovingly.

“I’m sorry about detention tonight but I promise I’ll take you out Saturday, alright? We can have a date at Hogsmeade and spend the night together, does that sound nice?”

The sleepy witch gave a tired mumble and nodded her head. She was cuddled under a stack of blankets, wearing Fred’s sweatshirt which made him smile. He’d usually crack a joke at this and tease her but, she was already asleep when he looked back to her. Fred couldn’t help but stare at her for a while. There was never a moment that went by where Fred didn’t think of Y/n as anything other than beautiful but in these moments, she looked ethereal.

Moonlight poured in from the open window and splashed across her s/c cheeks. Her hair was sprawled against the white pillowcase. Fred smiled at the sound of her light snores. Fred wouldn’t leave until he was sure she was deep asleep. It was their thing. She hated going to bed without him there.

“Okay, I love you, Y/n. Get some sleep, angel.” Fred whispered.

He pecked her forehead, then kissed her lips gently. Removing the covers, Fred tucked them back into Y/n so she could keep warm. He closed the open window then tip toed out of the room. Instead of rejoining his friends, Fred decided to head to his room. He felt too guilty for missing out on their plans to go have his own fun. Anyways he did have a Potions paper coming up and if he was going to spend the day with you Saturday, he surely wouldn’t be doing any homework.

So, the plan was confirmed the next morning, Friday. Y/n ran into Fred on her way to breakfast and they discussed where they’d meet and a time. They ate breakfast together, walked to class, then headed in different directions when six rolled around. Fred had a Quidditch match and she had a group project, so they didn’t cross paths for the rest of the night. Even though he refused to admit it, Fred absolutely hated when Y/n missed one of his games. His favorite thing to do was search for her in the stands during each game and it made him sad not to see her smiling face standing out in the crowd. Y/n entered the common room around midnight and went straight for her bed. Gryffindor had lost so there wasn’t a single housemate sitting in the common room. She could only imagine how upset Fred must be, she’d be hearing about it tomorrow. Y/n giggled to herself at the recollection of Fred’s angry rants about his teammates to you in private. She basically crawled to her bed, dreaming about the handsome, goofy, witty twin that had captured her heart.

Which would bring us to Saturday night. Fred and Y/n had made specific plans; they were to meet at The Three Broomsticks at seven then hangout for a while and spend the rest of their night sneaking around the castle with the help of The Marauder’s Map. Fred had practice at six so he was planning on meeting up with the girl at the pub. Y/n expected him to be running late- it wouldn’t be Fred if he didn’t show up a good twenty minutes late.

Only Fred never showed up at seven thirty, not at eight, and by the time nine neared, he was still nowhere in sight. The Three Broomsticks would stay open for a few more hours but the thought of sitting there alone for any longer, jumping at the sound of the door every time it opened, it made Y/n feel less than sane.

Throwing a handful of coins on the table, Y/n thanked her server then exited through the front doors. The walk back to the castle wasn’t long but being with Fred made it a lot more amusing. He’d pick her flowers, give her piggy back rides, play games, race, and hold her hand the whole walk back.

This time, Y/n walked alone hugging the material of her raincoat to her chest. A light drizzle had been pouring on and off for most of the day. Earlier, it was perfectly bearable- hardly noticeable. Although the weather had only worsened as the night grew darker. Hard rain drops crashed against Y/n coat, cascading down her covered arms and bouncing to the wet ground. Her black boots were soaked. She could feel the water rising to her socks, one of her biggest hatreds. Wet socks.

The hood of her jacket only helped so much before the pelting raindrops started to seep to her hair. Typically, Y/n loved the rain. If Fred was here, they’d be dancing right now. But he wasn’t, she had no clue where he was and that was exactly what Y/n was headed to find out.

By the time Y/n made it back to the castle and up to the Gryffindor common room, it was past ten.

Much as Y/n had expected, the common room was lively with energy and conversations. Katie, Alicia, and Angelina were all sitting in a circle with Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Seamus, and Dean. A dark bottle of Dragon Barrel brandy and Daisyroot Draught were being passed amongst them. Y/n watched as Fred leaned into his brother’s side, obviously tipsy and slurring his words while he practically shouted to their friends who were only sitting feet away.

His frame twitched with every small hiccup he let out. The whole group was smiling, they were happy. Y/n wondered to herself if Fred even noticed that she wasn’t there. She wondered if he liked it more when she wasn’t there, they were having fun and although the group was also her friends, no one was interested enough to invite her. Biting on the tender skin of her bottom lip, Y/n bundled her fist to her sides. The anger refused to simmer, only continued to boil. Her dripping clothes weren’t helpful to her sour mood.

It wasn’t the fault of her friends, no, but they were bound to get caught in the crossfires. Fred was the one who left her waiting for hours on end. Her chest was tight- livid yet sad all at once. It was an aggravating feel, unfamiliar. Y/n hated the suffocation entering her drying throat. More than anything she longed to handle situations like these in an aloof fashion. The last thing wanted was to wear her emotions on her sleeve, but she couldn’t help it. Her head screamed ‘just go to bed, ignore him’ but her heart wanted to scream at him and let him know just how bad he had hurt her. Her breathing quickened, each inhale received a choppy exhale.

For the first time, Y/n decided not to join her friends or to even say a word to Fred about how he stood her up. She was sick of it- completely exhausted and drained from his lack of care and presences in their relationship the last few weeks. If he wanted her as bad as he claimed, he’d find a way to show it. And leaving her sitting alone in a noisy pub while he partied and drank with their friends, showed her the exact opposite of his words.

Diverting her leer from the inebriated group and studied the rest of the room, hearing voices near the sitting area. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were all staring at Y/n in mixed judgement. Harry, Ron and Neville looked concerned by the appearance of Y/n. Hermione on the other hand, she was absolutely flabbergasted, Y/n could see the pity written on her face. You had mentioned having a date night with Fred in Hogsmeade to the four the night before. Harry had invited Y/n to hangout with them and visit Hagrid, but she politely declined and informed them about the special night Fred had planned for them.

Harry and Hermione stood up at the same time ready to comfort the teary-eyed girl. They motioned her over but just as she started towards them, Angelina Johnson noticed her friend who had been absent for most of the night. Setting the bottle of brandy down, Angelina wobbled up to her feet and smiled giddily,

“Y/n! Come- come drink with us! I was wondering where you- why… why’re you all wet?”

As the words fell from her mouth, a crowd of eyes planted on Y/n. Her fists clenched, bone white knuckles visible, at her sides. Angelina scurried over to her friend and wrapped her in a tender hug. If the scenario had been different, she’d gladly join in the fun but there wasn’t an ounce in her body that desired a drink.

Y/n’s eyes found their way to the boy she had been longing for all night. Her lips quivered, the anger and sadness reaching it’s overpour. He looked so handsome, so happy, but it meant nothing to her.

Pulling back, Angelina squinted in confusion at Y/n. The lack of embrace given back had thrown her off. The group had been awaiting her arrival, no one was quite sure where she’d gone off to. Angelina scanned Y/n’s reddening face, noticing the emotions bubbling under the surface.

Moving away, the dark-skinned girl turned to her friends. No one else seemed to notice the offset of Y/n’s attitude.

“Angel, where have you been? I missed you!” Fred’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. Quickly standing up, he held his hand out to his girlfriend. Y/n shot a dangerous look to his outreach, then up to his face. Usually she’d find his toothy grin and childlike state loveable but for obvious reasons, it made her irate.

Stepping back, Y/n sternly scowled at Fred,

“Missed me? You’re the one who left me waiting all goddamn night, Fred Weasley.”

A part of Y/n felt guilty for forcing her friends to witness their unpleasant exchange. George was now to his feet standing behind Fred, just as lost as the group he had been sitting with. Despite the alcohol running in his veins, George could sense an argument budding by the second.

“Not like any of you really seemed to care where I was.” Y/n kicked herself for this cold statement.

Her friends weren’t at fault- not in the slightest. But everyone was at risk of becoming a victim to her fiery wrath. In actuality, it did hurt her a little that no one had gone searching for her. It had been hours! Tears welled in her eyes as she took in the reactions of the group. George took his arm off Alicia and nudged his twin.

“What- I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, love. I think you should have a drink and loosen up-“

Y/n couldn’t take it. She just couldn’t take it anymore. Scrunching her face, she used every bit of strength to force her salty tears to hide at bay. Although her emotions screamed to be heard and saw right through her façade. Sweeping her hand across her cheek, Y/n caught the stray tears that rolled down her rosy cheeks. Huffing all her emotions out at once, Y/n shook Fred away from her and hurried towards her room.

Fred stood appearing dumbfounded. He could only gawk in perplexity. Blame it on the alcohol, but Fred’s mind was drawing a blank when surveying her words. For most of the night, he was the one thinking she was leaving him waiting. No one else had a clue as to where she’d gone off to, so he assumed she was in the library or wanted some space.

“You’re an idiot, Fred.” Hermione’s sharp voice cut through the thick air. The happiness and drunken laughter was extinct. The girl’s shared an exchange, all confused as to what just happened. The glass bottles didn’t help clear their judgement. Dean and Seamus took small sips from the Daisyroot Draught. The tension was unbearable, it felt wrong for their friends to be a part of it.

George set a hand on Fred’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly. Leaning forward, George whispered to his twin,

“I reckon it’s best if we turn it in for the night.” Fred gave a tug of protest. His intoxicated fought against him though he knew he did something wrong and needed to find Y/n. In spite of his desire to chase after the girl, George couldn’t let him do that. It was obvious Fred had forgotten something and Y/n was more than upset. Sending his brother up to drunkenly apologize to his hurting girlfriend for a reason he can’t even recall, that was a recipe for disaster and would only cause a bigger mess.

“Fred, you’re going to bed. You’re too drunk to talk to Y/n right now, okay? We’re going up the boy’s stairs, not the girls, okay? You two can talk in the morning, maybe you’ll remember where you fucked up tonight by then.”

Suddenly, Fred stop moving and let out a low groan,

“Oh shit… merlin’s sake, I fucked up, George. Oh my god- Hogsmeade… shit! I told her we’d meet at Hogsmeade and I forgot-“Fred whipped around in his discombobulated state. Everything clicked at once. Fred had been so concentrated on Quidditch that once practice had wrapped up, his exhausted body dragged him back to the common room out of muscle memory. It was his typical routine; Quidditch practice, head back to his dorm, shower, change, eat, work on some possible products with George, then hangout with his friends. How could he be so neglectful?

George sent his brother a comforting look then grabbed him by the shoulders, helping aid him up the winding staircase. It came as a shock to him that Fred had forgotten about their date. All he spoke about was Y/n, it was a rare occurrence for the couple to

“So that’s where she’s been all night?” George pushed open the door to their room, looking to his twin sternly. Fred had most of his weight piled on George, trying his hardest to remain upright. Lee had decided to stay back, allowing the brothers a chance to talk.

George helped his frantic twin in the dark room, then gave him a light push towards his bed. Fred plopped down, burying his face in the fluffy pillow. Pulling off his jumper, George threw the large maroon comforter over Fred’s tall frame while he wailed,

“I’m a terrible boyfriend. I planned the bloody date too! I left her-“

“How ‘bout you get some rest? You can find her in the morning and apologize to her and… hope for the best. It’ll give you more time to think of a way to make it up to her. You’re just a rambling mess right now.” The alcohol was not wearing George down. He had been on an adrenaline high since his second shot. This was the first moment of the night where he had stepped back. His tiresome hands rubbed against his face as he made his way to his bed and collapsed on it.

Fred was still moaning on, the sound of his drunken voice making it harder for George to fight back the urge to sleep,

“She’s gonna dump my sorry ass-“

“Go to bed, Fred. It’ll be okay.”

George let out a sigh of exhaustion. The twins had been best friends with Y/n since they were just children, new to Hogwarts and unfamiliar with the power of magic. It pained him to see his brother hurt, but it also hurt to see Y/n upset. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Turning his head, George let out a breathy chuckle at the sight of his twin passed out cold. The worry that dripped from his voice was now gone as he eased into his dreamland.

George wanted to scold him, knock him upside the head for skipping out on Y/n again. He cared a lot about her, she was basically a sister, a triplet to him. If Fred was gonna win her back, it wasn’t going to be easy, George knew this. Y/n was stubborn, and the twins had witnessed this first hand for years, it was a trait they loved, when not directed towards either of them.

As George’s head hit the pillow, all he could do was pray to Godrick that the morning would bring good news.

Sunday morning arrived much faster than Y/n had hoped. A bright, loud, light interrupted her sleep as the gears in her head started to turn. Her mind was groggy, the events of last night were foggy. Warm sunlight broke through the glass stained windows. Y/n wiped her eyes and slowly sat up. Her mouth was dry, screaming for a drink of water.

For a minute, she felt calm- happy almost. The room was half empty; Angelina’s bed was bare and Alicia laid in a star-fish position, a snore sounding from her mouth. The image made Y/n laugh.

Standing up, Y/n’s hands flew above her head as she stretched. She cracked her back, a morning ritual for the girl. Just as she reached for the knob of her dresser, a wave of recollection nearly knocked her off her feet.

Fred had stood her up, of course, how could she forget? The irritated skin under her eyes and nose suddenly made sense. Leaning against the wooden cabinet, Y/n huffed. It was times like these she wished she could crawl into bed and stay there for eternity. Nothing would get better though if she didn’t at least try to fix it.

As quick as the thought came, it had evaporated once more. Why did she have to be the one to put forth the effort to fix things? There was no use in fixing their relationship if Fred wasn’t willing to try too. More than try, Y/n thought. It took a piece of her when she came back to the castle just to see him drinking with their friends, not thinking a thought of her. She needed to see that he cared. His words held no value to her anymore, not until he could prove he meant what he said.

Y/n went through her morning routine like a snail, wanting to drag out her time. Eventually, she was fully dressed and ready for the day. She liked to take advantage of the days her school robes weren’t required. The cooling weather led her to a fuzzy black sweater, and light washed jeans. Sliding her delicate wand into her back pocket, Y/n exited the room and took the stairs down to the common room.

Approaching the bottom of the steps, Y/n could hear familiar voices exchanging hush words. She stepped into the room and was surprised to see the lack of students. The only ones present were sat one the long leather couch on the left half of the massive room. All of their gazes fell on Y/n.

Fred, George, Ron, Angelina, Harry and Hermione were all relaxing- well all of them except Fred. He on the other hand was frantic- disheveled. His knee bounced in anticipation. The clock was sneaking

“Oh, uh, hey Y/n!” Ron Weasley moved his hand side to side, waving to Y/n. The temptation to admire the handsome boy at his side leaped into her heart. Using every ounce of strength, Y/n trained her eyes on Ron, not allowing a single peek at Fred.

“Hey, Y/n/n!” The voice of Angelina brought a perk to Y/n’s head.

“Hi.” She greeted the younger Weasley and her close friend back, then headed for the portrait. Before she could make it half the distance, the tall figure of her boyfriend appeared.

“Angel, how did you sleep?” Fred was by her side in an instant. He was desperately trying to read her expression, testing the waters to see her mood. He had hardly slept, he spent most of the night thinking about this exact moment, when he’d have the chance to apologize and make it up to the girl he loved. “Can we please talk? I’m really sorry for last night, honestly, I am so so sorry, darling.”

Y/n stared at him, or rather, through him. It was like she didn’t see the tall wizard in front of her.

“I’m gonna go study, I’ll meet you with you guys later.”

“Y/n, love-“ His warm hand took hold of her of her own, an action she’d typically love. The familiar grasp sent a burst of comfort in her stomach, but she ignored it.

Wiggling out of his grip, the girl shot him a look of displeasure then rushed off. Hermione chased after her, no one else brave enough to step in. Besides, Hermione was one of her closest friends. Watching the younger girl follow after her roommate, Angelina walked after them. Fred stomped like a toddler having a tantrum as the portrait swung open then closed. He knew he had to do something- anything to get her to talk to him again, and that was his plan.

For a Sunday evening, the school library was relatively empty. A majority of the students occupying the tables were studying away for their O.W.L.S. The exams weren’t for another two months but hardly anyone dared to procrastinate until the last week before opening their books. The stress of the exams was enormous, but the students still had other classes to keep in mind.

Y/n Y/n/l and George Weasley were sitting across from on another at a study table. Three hefty textbooks were open as the two discussed their Potions paper. Y/n had been stuck on hers and George had yet to start so they decided to head to the library together and get it done.

Fred was usually right by their side, his hand wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders, but she neglected an invite for him. About an hour after their exchange in the common room, Y/n had apologized to each friend she had snapped on the night prior. They were understanding, clearly seeing where her frustrations had come for. They also felt bad as she was right, no one had even checked to see where she’d gone, and George especially felt terrible for not searching for his friend.

At least three hours had passed since the two Gryffindors started their study session. Y/n was sneaking up on her last two pages while George still had three left. They collaborated every few minutes, then returned to tranquil silence, scribbling away.

Y/n was in the middle of sharing her idea for the last section of her paper when George’s eyes brighten and he interrupted her,

“Fred, how nice of you to join us.”

Turning in her chair, Y/n found her boyfriend standing behind her with a nervous smile. She hated how perfect he looked, even in the poor lighting of the library. He still managed to make her breath hitch in the back of her throat.

“Hi, Y/n. You look beautiful as always.” Fred announced himself softly. George scoffed teasingly, muttering a ‘hello’ to himself to make up for his brother ignoring him. Freds words were genuine though didn’t make much of a difference. Y/n was still hurt and a compliment wasn’t going to mend that. She needed to feel it, to see him truly show that he cared- that she meant something to him. That she was deserving of his time. Sweet comments didn’t not add up to that feeling.

George closed his textbook, then glanced up at his twin,

“Should I leave?”

Before Fred could answer, Y/n slammed her hand on top of George’s Potions book. Wide eyed and frightened, the boy gaped in shock. Even Fred was taken aback by her unexpecting movement. Leering at her friend Y/n replied,

“No. I want you to stay, we were in the middle of a conversation.”

Fred’s heart dropped at her words. It was heartbreaking to have the girl of his dreams now shunning him- brushing him off with ease. It was driving him mad. All he wanted was for her to acknowledge him, give him a little hope that he can earn his way back in her heart. He loved her, every bit of him loved her.

All he wanted was to make it up to her for his mistakes the night before. He couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face when she saw him sitting with their friends. She was miles exceeded hurt- more devastated at his negligence than hurt alone.

Maybe it was the fear of meeting the reality that losing Y/n was a possibility, but Fred experienced a new sort of emotion when his girlfriend asked for his brother to stay. Yes, they’re friends, all three of them are. Fred had to remind himself of this like a record on repeat. He couldn’t fight the envy off though.

It made his heart twist as she stared at George. Never did he think he’d be jealous of his own twin, but Fred was livid. The seething stream of covetousness overtook his veins. Fred wanted to be the one you ran to for comfort, not his brother. His entire life he had shared everything with George, Y/n was far too meaningful to Fred for her to be shared.

Now it does take two for a turn of events like that to happen. Fred knew, clear as day, that George had no romantic feelings for Y/n and she had none for George. This was true, but for some reason, it didn’t help tame Fred’s envy.

He knew causing a jealous scene would do no good for anyone, so Fred realigned his train of thought and asked,

“Could I steal you from that conversation, please love? I really need to apologize to you.”

Fred allowed his hands to reveal themselves from their previous position hiding behind his back. When he moved them, a full bouquet of colorful flowers and small green plants of different shapes and sizes. The flowers were a display of fuchsia, pink, orange, red, and yellow. They were beautiful, so beautiful, Y/n thought to herself. She couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past her lips.

Fred had gotten her flowers their first-year dating but since the last month or so, she hadn’t received many of his heartwarming gifts. It wasn’t the monocle value of a present but the thought and attention to care that captured Y/n’s heart. Fred had always been the best at creating meaningful gifts on a tight budget. Whether it was flowers he stole from school grounds, or necklaces he made out of stones she found around the Great Lake. He’d make her perfume- proving rather excellent in the Potions department. He also asked Molly to teach him how to knit in order to make Y/n a sweater. This of course delighted Molly over the moon.

George bit on the skin of his knuckles to keep for laughing at his brother. He recognized the flowers, as did Y/n. Fred had picked them from the garden outside the castle- something that had earned him a detention before. George decided not to comment on his observation, Fred was sure to murder him in his sleep if he put his apology in any jeopardy.

Fred extended the bouquet to his flustered girlfriend. He felt a sense of accomplishment while watching her reaction. It was small to most, but for as stubborn as she was, it was big in his eyes. The girl reached forward, accepting the gift with a tiny smile rising to her lips, one she didn’t force down.

For the first time since the night before, Y/n fully saw Fred. She peered directly at him silently. George glanced between the two, stuck between a dual. Without speaking, Fred took some steps forward and pulled the chair next to Y/n out. He slipped into the seat, the couple still staring at each other. Y/n studied his demeanor, he didn’t push her anymore, but he wouldn’t leave her side. Not that she would tell him but, she was happy he joined in. She didn’t want him to leave, she had missed being around him. Tearing herself away, Y/n focused herself back on the other twin.

“As I was saying, George…”

Fred drowned out the words but accepted the fact that Y/n didn’t reject him from sitting down. She also didn’t set the flowers down for the rest of their study session. The remained clutched in her hands, resting in her lap the whole time.

Monday night came in the blink of an eye. Classes had resumed and the castle was bustling in stress. When the end of the year neared, the time spent sitting through lectures was an eternity, while the weekends flew by. Fred had always hated summer break, actually, that’s not entirely true. His dismissive of break budded around the same time his relationship with Y/n became official.

Their first two years, she would spend the holiday back home in London with her family. She loved her family but once she experienced her first holiday at the Burrow, she never wanted to miss another. Her family was a bit distant, not the warm and welcoming pure-bloods like the Weasley’s, but not as cold as the Malfoy’s. Y/n’s family had no issues with her spending breaks at the Burrow, as long as she had Molly and Arthur Weasley’s approval. Molly insisted each time that there was no need for her to even ask to stay. They accepted her with open arms, ecstatic to see Fred had found such a lovely girl.

The end of the school term was coming up and Fred needed to fix things with Y/n before that happened. She planned to spend the break at his family’s home and he feared she’d take her agreement back if things weren’t improved between them. Spending almost two days stuck in the anger of his love was two days too many. Fred was going to fix this and he planned the best idea he could think of, good thing he had their friends happily available to help.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, while she was resting up from her illness Harry, Ron, Lee and George were helping Fred create his masterplan. Hermione helped in her own way by remaining near Y/n’s dorm, sitting in as the lookout. It gave her an excuse to get her school work done so she didn’t protest.

Alicia and Angelina stayed in the room. Once Y/n started to feel better, thanks to Madam Pomfrey, the girl’s altered Hermione who passed the news along to Harry as the chain continued until it reached Fred. At the confirmation, his plan was set into action. Ron was sent to retrieve the girl after Alicia and Angelina convinced her to get some food from the dining hall.

She walked through the common room then down the moving staircase, when her redheaded friend popped up. Ron scared the girl, making her stumble back, her hand placed over her chest.

“Y/n! I’m so glad I ran into you! No one has seen you all day- Angelina said you were feeling ill this morning.” Ron rambled at a fast pace. Y/n, still surprised by his sudden arrival, took a deep inhale, nodding to the boy,

“Yeah, I saw Madam Pomfrey this morning when classes started. I just had a stomach bug and she said I’d have to wait it out but the medicine she gave me seems to be doing the trick.” Y/n gave Ron a kind smile. Ron was two years younger than her but they had always been great friends. Y/n would travel to the Burrow as a guest of the twins during the holiday breaks, so Ron and her had spent a lot of time hanging out together. It was sweet of him to ask how she was doing, but he didn’t seem that her health was the reason for their conversation.

“That’s good to hear. You wouldn’t happen to be heading anywhere, are you?”

“Just to get some food. I’m starving-“ Ron nodded eagerly, cutting his friend off in the process.

“That’s great! I mean, not great, just… well… uh, follow me please!” Scrambling like a mess, Ron clasped his hand over Y/n’s wrist and abruptly dragged her down the stone corridor. She couldn’t find the words to question him and allowed Ron to lead the way. Her curiosity was far too big to ignore his odd request.

Ron carried on for another five minutes then took a sharp turn, heading for the courtyard. Two figures ran off around the side of the castle in the darkness. Y/n swore she recognized the pair as George and Lee. What were they up to? Snapping her head to the younger boy, Y/n waited for him to fill her in on why he had dragged her halfway across the castle to the freezing courtyard.

“Okay! We’re here- I’m just gonna… head out. See ya, Y/n!” Ron rushed his farewell then ran off towards the direction George and Lee had escaped to. What in the world is going on? Left by herself without any explanation, Y/n threw her hand up in annoyance.

“What?”

Alone in the cold, Y/n wrapped the opening of her fuzzy cardigan against her body, attempting to keep warm. Although warmth entered her vein as a pair of arms snaked around her waist, snatching her backwards into a firm surface. She gasped, thrown off by her attacker and tried to turn in retaliation, but their grasp was far too firm. The familiarity of the hold made her body ease up. As much time as the spent together, she could recognize his touch anywhere. Fred.

His touch released a swarm of butterflies through the girl. She could feel the anger washing away as she leaned her body into his chest, having pined for his arms for two too many days than she was accustomed to.

The tall Gryffindor held her tightly. Moving forward, Fred pressed his lips against the shell of Y/n’s ear. The heat of his breath causing her to shudder as he whispered,

“I’m so happy you came, darling.”

Y/n smirked, looking up at him. The concurrent willfulness of her nature could only carry on for so long until her headstrong demeanor crumbled. A pang of chagrin still grumbled in her stomach but the sight in front of her certainly was a runner in her change of heart.

Soaking in her surroundings, Y/n realized they were just a few hundred feet outside Hargid’s hut. This explained the garden full of massive orange pumpkins. In the middle of the path was a small gazebo decorated in fairy lights and sunflowers. A small table set for two was tucked inside. Small teacup white candles line the path, creating a runway of sorts. Another candle, larger and purple, sat flickering in the breeze in the center of the neat table.

Y/n stood motionless absorbing the creation her boyfriend made- all for her. Speechlessness was not common for Y/n so Fred undoubtably began to second guess if his efforts were good enough. His fears were stomped in a matter of moments when Y/n harshly yanked at the material of his collar and placed a brisk, short kiss to his lips. Fred was startled, losing the opportunity to kiss her back but Y/n didn’t want him to. It gave her a sense of control- they still had issues they needed to work out, but she loved him nonetheless. Besides, avoiding and staying mad at Fred forever? Impossible. In two days, Y/n had to stop herself a million different times from approaching Fred and sharing a laugh with him, or kissing him, or holding his hand and giving him a hug. She didn’t want to fight off the urge anymore- and Fred couldn’t handle the distance spaced between them. Thus, being the motivation for his grand, heartfelt, date.

“I’ll assume that means you like it. I won’t take all the credit- it was my idea, but our friends are the main reason I was able to pull this off. I feel really bad and… I need to do something special for you- I don’t do that enough lately. I forget sometimes to remind you how important you are in my life and how much I love you.” Fred sheepishly smiled, nervously awaiting her reaction.

The small table was set, a new bundle of crimson red roses placed on her seat. To the side of her plate was a small box with a beautifully wrapped ribbon tied to the top. Fred had a special way of showing his love and adoration for his girlfriend, but even this was new to her. Never before had he gone so over the top to prove his feelings to her.

Y/n lifted her hand and intertwined it with Fred’s, smiling up at him,

“It’s gorgeous, Freddie.” The bashful smile made Fred’s heart melt on sight. He had prepared himself for the repetitive rejection she had been sending, so when she whispered those sweet words, his chest tightened, and his pace stopped.

Fred almost fainted in shock at the sound of her voice. He squeezed her light hand and drew it back, forcing her body into his own. Y/n couldn’t help the laugh that fell from her lips. She missed his playful ways. With the foreheads pressed against each other, Fred grinned,

“I’ve missed your voice, love.”

Although his words made her heart take flight, the reality of her hurt was still roaming. Y/n detached herself from his grasp and rested her hand on the black metal table. Her fingertips fumbled with the white cloth, it served as a distraction only for a short period of time. Fred sent her a sorrowful look. Her shift in moods was confusing to him, he only wanted to make things better.

Y/n sighed and ran her hand through her h/c locks. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply then asked,

“Why don’t you have time for me anymore, Fred?” The question of the night- or rather month. His date was beautiful, absolutely stunning. As riveting as it was, it couldn’t erase the hurt she had been experiencing.

Fred shook his head frantically, dismissing the accusation. He knew why she would think that way, he understood. It wasn’t true, though. Actions speak louder than words and Fred despised the fact that recently, his feelings for Y/n weren’t lining up with his actions. His words could only do so much. But he also knew soon, things would be different. Missing the Hogsmeade date was his fault, and he paid for it. Two days might seem minute to most, but when you spend essentially everyday attached to someone’s hip, two days of them purposely ignoring you and speaking to every soul expect you, it can feel like a lifetime. He realized a few things in this time.

Fred remembered how fun it was to act as if he was still trying to win her over. Gifts, no matter their cost, always brought a gleam to her face which never failed to make Fred grin. However, it was much more entertaining when she wasn’t upset with him and would throw the flirtatious comments right back at him. He was also reminded of how lucky he was to be with Y/n. While she ignored him, Fred found himself envious of every living being Y/n spoke to, as they were not him. When he started engulfing himself in his plans for the joke shop, his effort in his relationship had decreased and this was something he vowed to never let happen again.

“I’ll always have time for you, darling. And if I don’t, I’ll make some. I truly am sorry about this weekend- you don’t deserve that.”

“It just seems like you’re distracted, like you don’t care anymore.” Y/n batted her reddening eyes, finally throwing her worries to the air.

“No, no, Y/n, not at all. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, love. I’m a terrible excuse of a boyfriend, I never meant to create this mess. I love you so much.” Fred’s head bowed down. It tore him up to know the way his actions made her feel, the only girl he loved.

“I love you too, Freddie. I really do but I can’t feel alone in this relationship. I let our date Friday slide, even though I was annoyed, but Saturday night? I feel like it broke me. Just knowing you forgot about me-“ Y/n fought back the burning sensation in her eyes as the tears began to brim.

The anxiety blooming inside her was clear to Fred. Suppose that was the downside to dating your best friend, they can always tell when somethings wrong. Before a tear could hit the floor, he whisked her to the iron garden chair, then kneels before her, his hands holding her face as if it was a priceless, dainty piece of china.

“I didn’t forget about you, darling, that’s impossible to do. I’ve been… well I’ve been working on something with George for when we leave school next year. It’s real important to me and I wanted to share it with you but I was scared that it might not happen but… if I have your support and you with us, I know it’ll happen.”

“What’re you rambling on about, Fred?”

“Remember how I told you that George and I wanted to open a joke shop? Well, it’s happening… I think. We’re really close, we just gotta make it through next year then we’re free! We’ll have our own joke shop and get to sell our own products and start our future.”

A silence overtook the atmosphere. Y/n’s lips were stuck open in a small ‘o’ shape, eyes glued to the floor. Was he really going to leave her all alone next year? Would they have to break up? Surely, he wouldn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship.

She was snapped from her own mind when her skin registered the touch of Fred’s lips as they traced her knuckles, kissing each finger as he did. His eyes then peered up to meet her own. She could tell he was serious by the feeling of his stare. Then he continued, making Y/n perk up,

“But none of that can happen without you… Y/n I want you to come with me. Move in with George and I, start a future with me. We want you to be a part of the shop. I want you there. You’re the only girl I want, for the rest of my life.”

Her once open mouth clamped shut in a swift motion. Ever since she met the twins, Y/n wanted a future with Fred. Everyone saw it as a childhood crush, but she always knew it was more. She never stopped loving him- never could. Even when his pranks took a step too far over the line. They always found their way back to each other and would work through it. Fights such as the most recent were rare- but Fred’s admission filled in a lot of empty spaces that had left Y/n sleepless for days. Finally, the crushing weight was lifted from her chest as she choked out a shaky breath.

Leaping forward from the chair, Y/n threw her body into her boyfriend’s body and clamped him in a koloa like hold. Fred chuckled in amusement, falling onto the near ground at her jump.

“Why do you have to be so lovable? I hate it. I should be angry with you, but I just love you too much. Besides, I think you did enough suffering.” She giggled as she pinched his round cheeks in her hands. Fred poked his tongue out at her and grabbed at her sides. Y/n swatted his hands away, giving him a stern glare saying, ‘don’t push it’.

Slowly, she leaned down and brushed her lips against Fred’s, smirking down at him. It was a change in roles. In their more adult situations, Fred was typically the one on top with Y/n pinned below him, but that’s a story for another time.

A small, almost whimper, sound came from Fred. He hated being teased- that was his job. Dragging out the moment, Y/n tugged on the skin of his bottom lip with her teeth, earning a groan of approval from Fred. She grazed over his mouth one last time before dipping her head down to meet his and interlocking their lips, still straddling his waist. Fred’s hips pushed towards her core out of instinct. Not ready to give in quite yet, Y/n lifted her body and shifted forward, entrapping Fred even more so in the heated kiss.

They parted for seconds to sneak a bit of air, then continued their needed make out. It had been a while since they proved their love to each other in this way. For the last month, it had been small kisses here and there when the couple had a chance to see each other. Y/n needed his touch- she needed him. Fred longed to have under him, pleasuring her. He desperately wanted to sink his head between her legs and really show her just how much he loved her.

The coldness of his fingertips hit Y/n’s skin as his fingers dug into the sides of her waist. As much as she longed to keep the exchange going, the last thing either of them needed was a detention.

Y/n plucked herself away, a small pout lining Fred’s lips. His hands remained tied up in her own, lying them on his stomach. The weight of his question seeped in like molasses. Opportunities like this presented themselves once in a lifetime, there was no way Y/n was going to let it slip by.

Rolling off his lap, Y/n plopped down on the ground to the side of Fred. Their heads turned simultaneously towards each other, Fred winking to Y/n.

This is what she wanted. To see him care for her, show his love. His attention. It was the one thing she had been striving for but now that the cat, or rather joke shop, was out of the bag, Fred didn’t feel the need to hide anything from her anymore and keep his work to himself. He was over the moon with excitement to have her join George and himself. It was everything he could hope for.

Coyly averting her peer, Y/n asked,

“Do you really mean it, Fred? You really want me to come with you and George?”

Kindly, Fred swiped his thumb under her chin and raised her head up so their eyes were level.

“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else in the world then with me.” The serenity in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n propped herself up to her elbows and brought Fred in a bone crushing hug. Heavy chuckles croaked from Fred as she smothered him lovingly. He managed to sneak in a tiny peck to her check and she hugged him. Placing her head on his shoulder, Y/n poked the side of Fred’s cheek, commenting,

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever, Fred, I love it!”

Throwing his arm around the elated girl, Fred just smirked.

“Duh, that’s kind the whole point of you moving in with me.” He replied in a matter-of-fact tone. The night was growing darker and the steady wind was escalating. In an hour, two if they were lucky, Filch would be surveying the grounds in search of students, mainly Fred and George, out past curfew. It was a sport to him, catching students breaking rules and getting to turn them in. It was part of his job, yes, but Y/n hated that he never took it easy on anything for the Gryffindors like he did the Slytherins. Fred looked at the scenery around them and remarked,

“Y’know, angel, as much as I’d love to spend the rest of the night laying with you in my arms, we can do that in my dorm room tonight… in an actual bed instead of dirt. I mean, we didn’t set up this whole thing for nothing! If I knew laying in the dirt would win you back, you should’ve told me!” His sarcastic words were received with a light slap.

“Smart ass.” Y/n rolled her eyes teasingly and started to sit up. Before she could get to her feet, a pair of hands planted themselves at her waist and lifted her. Fred had his moments, but he was always a gentleman to her. His teasing ways were comforting to Y/n, reminding her that they were good now, in comparison to the recent downfalls.

Fred helped Y/n to her seat, then jogged over to his own. He presented the girl with a cake he made for her. Hermione brought him to the kitchens and taught him how to make one. It took about three hours, he burnt the first, put too many eggs in the second, then forgot to add eggs to the third. Finally, on the fourth attempt, Fred created a passable cake. Hermione had no desire to spend any more time in the kitchen, so she quickly frosted it for him, not wanting him to ruin it this far in, then covered it and locked it in the fridge. Much to Y/n’s surprise, it was one of the best homemade cakes she’d ever had. Her teeth were practically chattering from the intense amount of sugar, but she had to keep in mind it was Fred who baked it.

After eating, Fred and Y/n took their sweet time strolling around the castle. Fred swung his hand back and forth, causing the same effect to Y/n’s. They laughed feverishly as Fred chased Y/n up the moving stairs as they raced to the common room. When they entered the room, they sprinted straight for Fred’s, still in a chase. Hermione, Ron, Harry, George, Angelina, and Lee all watched in amusement as the couple seemed to be reunited.

“Wonder if they’re back together. You guys think the date worked?”

Everyone shared glances at the obliviousness of Ron. There were times when social cues and context clues just didn’t exist to Ron. George scoffed at his little brother and shook his head. The rest of the group roared with laughter as Ron’s face scrunched in irritation.

“Not sure, Ron. Why don’t you go out to our room and ask them?” George smirked mischievously causing Ron to turn white as a ghost in realization. A faint ‘oh’, tumbled out of his lips and his eyes went wide.

Despite their assumption, up in the top room in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory, Fred Weasley laid snoring in his large mattress, still in his school robes. Squished against his chest by his arms, Y/n was sound asleep, similarly dressed. The two didn’t care what they looked like or who came in, as long as they were together, that’s all that mattered.

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