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#im trying to decide also how much im willing to spend on a bag. maybe i should just get a canvas tote and
lokh · 2 years
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if i get advertised another tiny bag im gonna lose my marbles. i need to be able to bring my whole house with me
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plant-flwrs · 4 years
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house unity // fred weasley
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masterlist!
a/n: this story has taken me so long and i feel like i’ve poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it. i love it a lot and you can really tell what i was watching/ doing in each sections lol. for example, the dramatic ending is courtesy of the heart wrenching sylvia plath poems i was reading earlier today lol :’) also i made the reader a ravenclaw because im a ravenclaw and i felt like it hehe. n e way! hope you all like it and pls leave feedback if you have any! like, rb, follow <3
summary: Fred Weasley and you have a bit of a love hate relationship, however, on Fred’s behalf its more love than hate. Dating a Ravenclaw would be a great stride in house unity, wouldn’t it?
(disclaimer: when i describe the differences in the twins i mean the actors! especially since she who shall not be named did not give us much about their physical differences >:/ i found the info from fandom.com so it may be wrong, but i went with it. also, i made up a few things for this story, like the annual Christmas ball)
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You wished you could enjoy some things as easily as your peers could.
You didn’t like most sweets from Honeydukes, you didn’t care for Quidditch, but you especially hated the Weasley twin’s pranks.
In your first year, just weeks after arriving at Hogwarts, you had met Fred and George. You had been unable to answer the riddle to enter the Ravenclaw common room, so you decided to take a walk around the grounds.
You just turned the corner to the courtyard, when a hard snowball hit you square in the face. The sheer force of it made you stumble backyards, and you barely had time to wipe the snow off your face before another one hit you hard in the back. You were unable to keep your balance and tumbled forwards. Your hands braced your fall and scraped against the rough stone harshly. Your palms stained the snow red as they began to bleed. You barely had time to nurse them before another snowball, this time the size of a Quaffle, plummeted onto your head. It pushed you face-first into the snow, and you recovered quicker, not wanting to stay there for any longer. You whirled around, looking for anyone who could have seen who did that. You saw two boys with flaming red hair running away, and you followed them.
You caught them just before they entered the castle, all three of you winded. They were twins.
“Did you see who did that? Was it you?” you had pried, and both of them looked giddy.
“What’d you mean?” the shorter of the two answered immaturely.
The other looked down at your hands and robes, seeing blood still flowing from your palms, and your stained tights. He glanced at his brother, who was still laughing about it all and shoved his shoulder.
“You git,” he mumbled to his brother, “she’s bleeding,” he took your hands in his and tried to wipe some of the blood off, only for it to stain the sleeves of his sweater.
“Oh, gross!” the shorter one exclaimed, backing away from the two of you.
“How did you two do that?” you asked, pulling your hands away from the kinder one.
“Bewitched ‘em,” the short one said arrogantly before his brother could stop him.
“You bewitched them to attack me?” you felt tears stinging your eyes and hoped the taller one wouldn’t notice that too.
“Well, we didn’t mean ‘em to go after you,” the kind one said quickly, trying to rub the blood out of his shirt.
“Yeah, but it was still a laugh,” the shorter one said, nudging his brother’s shoulder good spiritedly.
“Shut up, Fred,” he mumbled, obviously annoyed, “we’re sorry about your hands, we didn’t mean for it to happen, honest.”
Fred watched you silently as you swallowed hard, only able to nod at them, accepting the boys’ apology. You turned on your heal and went to the infirmary, hoping Madam Pomfrey could mend your cuts. You had wiped your tears all the way there.
In your third year, you had been told there would be a Christmas ball. You had been stuffed in a large room with the Gryffindors, and you bumped shoulder to shoulder with a boy who had long dreadlocks.
Professor McGonagall and Flitwick stood in the center of the room, a large record player was next to them.
“As some of you may know, there is an annual Christmas Ball here at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall explained, looking sharply at the Gryffindors.
“Professor McGonagall and I have a tradition,” Flitwick said, casting a glance at the Ravenclaws, “of holding a class on how to dance properly at these events.”
“Think of it as charity,” McGonagall said devilishly, “we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourselves.”
Flitwick stifled a laugh and moved his wand to turn on the music. Loud, old-sounding music blared from the ancient device and you looked confused at your teachers.
“Everyone, pair up!”
An awkward haze fell over the room of third years. None of you knew how to talk to the opposite sex, let alone dance with them. You turned to look around you, accidentally making eye contact with the Gryffindor boy with dreads. His eyes widened when they saw yours, and his friends behind you noticed. You looked at his friends, only to see Fred and George Weasley. You rolled your eyes at the two, but their friend was jolted forwards.
He bumped into you, Fred having pushed him lightly on the back.
“Go on Lee!” Fred shouted, laughing loudly.
People were moving to the center of the room in pairs, and Lee looked at you nervously. He held his hand out to you.
“Want to dance?” He asked you shyly.
You took his hand with worry, nervous about the wicked grin the twins had. That grin always worried you.
You let Lee lead you out to the floor, falling in line with everyone else. You both watched McGonagall looking around for a partner for her to demonstrate with.
Fred’s obnoxious laugh cut through the room, and her eyes landed on him.
“Perfect! Mr. Weasley, come be my partner.”
He groaned and moved forwards, his brother laughing loudly. Beside you, Lee had a wide smile.
“Place your hand on my waist,” she said flatly.
“Your what?” he repeated, his eyes going wide.
“My waist, don’t be daft,” she replied, moving his hand to the right place.
It seemed everyone’s cheeks had gone red due to stifled laughter. Lee bumped into you as he doubled over, not trying to contain himself.
In your fifth year, you were made a prefect.
You were hesitant to accept the position, feeling a bit tied down by the prat status that came with the responsibility.
Wearing your slightly dusted badge, you had never polished it like you saw Percy doing every second of his life, you led a group of Ravenclaw first years up the stairs.
“Right this way,” you shouted over their heads, making sure no one got lost.
“Who had the sense to make you a prefect?” Fred taunted, coming up from behind you and flicking your ear.
You moved to swat his hand away, but he had already jumped back.
“Shove off, Fred,” you shot him a glare and turned back to the children, “the stairs can get a bit confusing, so watch your step!”
Fred watched you admirably, noticing the way your voice changed to a sweet sound when you spoke to anyone but him.
“Yeah, watch the stairs!” Fred shouted, pulling you by your elbow onto a new staircase.
The steps moved away from the first years, taking you and Fred to the opposite corridor you wanted to go down. You looked down and realized how close you were to the edge. Without thinking, you grabbed onto Fred’s robes, pulling him closer to you. He tilted forward and nearly lost his balance, which would have sent you both down. He flung his hand out and firmly held onto the railing, suspending the both of you over the edge for a moment before he pulled you back up. You were close to his chest, still holding onto him until the stairs stopped moving. You hadn’t meant to close your eyes, but when you finally opened them you saw your group of first-years looking at you from the other staircase, seeming absolutely terrified.
You leaped from Fred’s embrace, sending him stumbling back a bit. You marched up the stairs to loop back to the first years and heard Fred calling after you.
“Going so soon?” you heard his laugh echoing off the walls of the room.
For most of your life, your interactions with Fred Weasley were that simple. Maybe once a year you two would spit some insults at the other, and be on your way, not to speak to each other until next year.
However, when you walked into your Transfiguration class, late by a few minutes due to your prefect duties, you felt a punch in the gut when you saw flaming red hair.
The punch in the gut was increased tenfold when you saw that the only empty seat was next to the flaming red hair.
Breathing deeply and sending a fake smile his way, you sat uncomfortably next to Fred.
It would have been difficult to tell them apart, but your observant eye had always been able to. Besides a few odd growth spurts they were prone to, George usually came out the taller of the two. Fred also had a small scar on his left eyebrow.
“Oh hello, prefect,” Fred said lazily, drawing back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.
The bottom of his shirt rose a little and you willed your eyes to not look at the toned bit of stomach that peeked through.
“Weasley,” you said, pulling your textbook out of your bag.
“Looking forward to your new prat duties?”
“More than I’m looking forward to sitting with you,” you pushed your hair behind your ear and out of your eyes, Fred stared at the side of your face.
“Always so charming,” he finally drawled, leaning forwards and tugging his sweater down.
Something about Fred always made you want the last word, the last laugh.
“Only for you, Fred.”
In professor McGonagall’s opinion, Fred Weasley had the littlest appreciation for time of all the students she had taught.
He wasted his time in the common room, in the Great Hall, and in the hallways.
Even during her Transfiguration class.
He was happy to spend his time with what he thought was shamelessly flirting with you, and McGonagall was happy to embarrass him while he did it.
“Mister Weasley?”
Fred turned to look at McGonagall’s severe face. Before he could say any excuse, insisting that you were talking too, she waved her wand at his desk. His book flew open to the right page, and a force that was not his own was pushing his head into the book. His hair fell in front of his face, and you could tell he was fighting against the spell McGonagall was using.
Fred seemed to be tamed by McGonagall after that and didn’t bother you for the rest of the class. On the way out, he held the door open for you. He called out to you in the hallway.
“Good luck with that weird rash, Y/n!” you felt your cheeks burn furiously as laughs sounded off in the hallway. You turned to see Fred watching you walk away, and lifted both of your middle fingers in the air to him.
“So classy!” he called back.
“Shove! OFF!” you yelled, shouting over the now deafening laughter in the hallway.
You were already dreading the upcoming months.
You were right to, for class with Fred did not get any easier.
You traded your thin tights for thicker ones and your light dress shirt for a heavy sweater. Your blue scarf was wrapped tightly around your neck, and you didn’t bother to pin your prefect badge on it these days.
“Miss, y/l/n, you must remember your badge,” McGonagall said as you came into class.
You looked down at your scarf, patting your robes until you felt the metal. Lifting up your scarf and showing the professor the badge underneath it, you gave her a reassuring smile.
She nodded approvingly and waved her hand, you moved to your seat.
Before you could put your things down, Fred was looking at you. You could hear the gears turning in his head, thinking of something presumably rude to say to you.
“Weasley,” you said first, hoping this would inspire him to stop looking at you.
He blinked at you, before smiling and turning back to his textbook.
“Today, we’re going to be learning a vanishing spell,” McGonagall started.
You had already turned to the page before she told it to you, you had read through the entire textbook over the summer.
You heard Fred scoff next to you, but ignored him.
Looking down at the directions in the book, you had remembered your successful attempt at making one of your father’s shoes disappear. He had been so proud of you, he didn’t care that he only had one brown Oxford instead of two.
“How did you do that?” Fred asked, watching as you easily made the rat in front of you vanish.
“Practice,” you said absently, turning your head to look back into the textbook.
Fred began to try the spell himself, his focus on the goblet he had taken from the great hall. He did the right wand movements, but his pronunciation was all wrong. You watched as the spell rebounded off the goblet and hit his tie, making the bottom half of it vanish. His hand flew to his chest, his mouth curved in a disbelieving grin when he didn’t feel the point of his tie.
“Well, bloody hell, that could have been much worse,” he gasped out, pushing his hair off his face and leaning back in his chair.
You couldn’t help the small nervous laugh that escaped your lips, but you were able to stifle it quickly. Fred had noticed your smile and glanced at you, happy to amuse you.
The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Fred regaining his composure after nearly vanishing himself. You pretended to read your book, but you had already read the page dozens of times. You wanted an excuse to not talk to Fred.
“Ever going to turn the page?” Fred asked from beside you, and you became very aware of his eyes on the side of your face.
“I’m absorbing the information,” you replied flatly, keeping your head in the book to hide your blush.
He laughed, sitting straight in his seat. He seemed to be attempting the spell again. You bit your lip as you watched him practice, wondering if you should correct him so he doesn’t hurt himself.
He had just begun to say the spell when you placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Wait!” he glanced at you and your hand on his shoulder, smirking at you.
“Yes, darling?”
You rolled your eyes and felt the urge to gag. Your face crinkled in disgust and Fred smiled.
“Your pronunciation is wrong.”
“Well go on then,” he said, urging you to continue.
“Evanesco,” you said simply, but Fred’s eyes wrinkled in confusion.
“That’s what I’m saying,” he said, turning back to the goblet but lowering his wand, “Evenesco.”
He had replaced the ‘a’ with an ‘e’ sound, but he hadn’t heard it, you supposed.
“It’s ev-an-es-co,” you said slowly, placing your pronunciation on the ‘an’, “you’re saying ev-en-es-co.”
His eyebrows raised, finally understanding. He repeated it to you slowly, and you nodded your head when he said it right.
He smiled confidently, casting the spell on his goblet. The goblet turned foggy, and Fred could wave his hand through it like it was a ghost.
He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
“This is miserable,” he groaned.
You waved your wand and said the verbal part of the spell, finishing off the goblet. It completely disappeared and Fred let out another groan, rolling his head back in annoyance.
“You’re miserable,” he said to you teasingly.
You looked at him through your lashes, your brows furrowed, “Whatever, Fred,” your face grimaced in annoyance, “I’m just trying to help, your welcome, by the way.”
You pulled your bag onto your lap and began to pack up your books.
Fred let out a sigh like he was going to say something. You turned to him, but he merely shook his head.
“Forget it,” he said, seeming to be at a loss of words.
You stood from your seat the second McGonagall dismissed class, leaving Fred at your shared desk.
“She’s totally into me!”
“She hates your guts, mate,” George said, pulling his lips into a thin-lined sympathy smile.
Fred scoffed and shook his head, his long hair falling over his forehead.
“You don’t get it,” he pressed, determined to make George see.
“She looks like she wants to throw herself into the Forbidden Forest every time she sees you,” George replied, determined to stop his brother from future heartbreak.
“Whatever, just you watch,” Fred said, tossing his Quidditch broom from hand to hand and looking at the massive stands above them, empty for the practice, “in a few weeks she’ll be in one of those seats, cheering me on.”
“He’s lost it,” Harry mumbled to George as he walked past, baffled by Fred’s dazed look.
George nodded hastily, following Harry away from his lovesick brother.
Fred was not often detoured by anyone’s cautionary guidance, so the endless warnings from George slid off his ego like melted butter.
Fred had spent so much time in the last Quidditch match with his eyes glued to the Ravenclaw student section, looking for you, that he had barely hit any bludgers the entire game. Oliver had some tasteful words for him in the changing rooms, but it was no worse than his mother’s screaming.
You were not at the Quidditch match, you never were. You had always used the advantage of the empty castle to go to the kitchens. The elves were the only ones left there, and you liked talking with them. Some times Luna would join you.
It seemed you and Fred were going opposite directions while searching for each other at the same time.
No matter how many cookies Dobby shoved towards you and Luna, you could not get Fred out of your head.
You thought about his arms wrapped around you on the stairs, you thought about the way he could always make your cheeks burn, and you thought of the way his eyes poured into your face like it was the only thing he’d ever seen. You hated him. He was rude, arrogant, and annoying. He ran around your head constantly.
McGonagall had some choice words for Fred that night after the match. The sulking from the loss had been toned down, but the hushed sounds of Oliver’s feet pounding against the floor in his bedroom could be heard all the way from the common room.
“Where is Wood?” she burst through the portrait hole, still in her robes she wore to the match.
“He’s upstairs, why?” Harry replied, looking nervous.
“I need to have a word with him,” she cast a glance at Fred, “and his methods of training his beaters.”
Fred and George both shot from where they sat on the couch.
“What?” George yelled.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Mister Weasley,” she squinted at them, “whichever one of you was looking around at the Rave-” she stopped before she could finish her sentence as if she had an epiphany.
Her pursed lips twisted into an evil looking smile.
“You know, Mister Weasley,” she took a step towards the boys and spoke to them only, “dating a Ravenclaw would show great strides in house unity,” Fred’s eyes bulged out of his head and George was already turning pink with laughter, “perhaps then you could focus on Quidditch again.”
George was nearly purple due to lack of air, and Harry’s mouth was agape in shock as McGonagall whisked her robes and swiftly climbed back out of the portrait hole.
“What is she on about?” Harry asked George.
Fred flopped onto the couch and covered his face with his hands. His life was over. If McGonagall could catch onto something like that, couldn’t you? You hadn’t started to flirt back, and Fred was beginning to wonder if George was right about your feelings towards him.
Soon enough, George was spouting everything McGonagall had said before he could catch his breath. He told anyone in the common room how much you hated Fred, and how much he desperately fancied you. Fred figured there was no use to stop him, because once again, if McGonagall could catch on, couldn’t everyone else?
Sunday morning was always rough for you. You pulled your heavy quilt closer to your cold cheeks, hoping for the sun to go back down and the weekend to restart. It never did.
You slipped on a pair of jeans and a tight turtle neck. Still feeling the cold air of the castle seeping through, you pulled on a sweater over the turtle neck. You tugged on some wool socks and pulled the fabric of the shirt as high up your neck as it would go.
You and Luna had plans to go to Hagrid’s hut today, he had promised her some magical flower seeds he had found in his garden. You liked to spend time with Luna, she was an easing presence and you always knew how to talk to her, even if most people didn’t.
You clutched an old muggle novel to your chest, hoping to trap some of your body heat. The hallways were surprisingly crowded for a Sunday morning, and you glanced at your watch, seeing breakfast had just ended.
You noticed that a lot of students with red ties were looking at you oddly. They would see you and smile widely, as if you were a new friend to them. You kept your head down until you met Luna in front of the great hall.
“Did you hear the news?” she asked before she even greeted you.
“What?”
“I just saw Harry, he said McGonagall told Fred to ask you out.”
You laughed, expecting her to do so as well. She didn’t and her face stayed stoic. She began to walk outside.
You were locked into place for a second before you jumped into line with her.
“What?” you repeated.
“Harry told me-” she began, but you waved your hands, cutting her off.
“No, I heard you, but what do you mean? What did McGonagall say?”
Luna had to have finally gone loony.
“He told me that after they lost Quidditch yesterday, she came in looking for Fred, she said he was quite distracted during the match,” she said, looking dreamily at you, “and she said something about how dating a Ravenclaw would be great for house unity,” Luna finished, toying with the tote bag at her side.
“Why did Harry think the Ravenclaw had to be me?” you asked, thinking there was a huge misunderstanding.
“Oh, well,” she said like she had forgotten a large part of the story, “after George heard what McGonagall said, he lost it. Harry said he laughed so hard he cried,” Luna giggled to herself while imagining the sight, “and he told everyone in the common room that Fred fancied you.”
Your face turned bright red with anger and embarrassment. The entire Gryffindor house had been laughing all night because George said Fred fancied you.
You were about to burst into protests, insist that it’s not true, but a gaggle of second years wearing red ties all pointed at you, talking among themselves.
You stepped towards them, making sure your prefect badge was visible. You watched their eyes flash down to the blue pin, and back up at your face, eyes wide. They scurried off and you fell back into place with Luna.
“That was rude of them,” Luna said, looping her arm with yours.
“Yeah,” you said quietly under your breath, your mind cloudy with thoughts.
You and Luna walked quietly out to Hagrid’s. You glanced up and saw the last person you had wanted to see.
Fred and George stood at the point where the path diverged to the Quidditch pitch and Hagrid’s hut, throwing a little flame-like ball to each other, bouncing it off their arms, feet, and chests. A small group of some younger kids had huddled around them, ‘ooing’ and ‘awing’ at each pass.
Fred had a large smile on his face, and the sight of it made your stomach churn with nerves.
You ducked your head down, hoping you and Luna would pass without a problem. You would not.
“Hi Fred,” Luna lifted a hand to wave at him, and the small light fell onto the ground as Fred saw you, “hi George.”
George smiled evilly at the sight of his brother nervously looking anywhere but you.
“Fun looking game your playing,” Luna said, trying to stop to talk, but you dragged her along.
“See you later Luna, Y/n!” George called out to the two of you, the laughter obvious in his voice.
“Why didn’t you want to talk to them? You could have asked Fred about what Harry said,” Luna asked you soothingly, looking at you curiously.
“I don’t know,” you sighed, feeling very overwhelmed, “it’s weird. I don’t even know what happened but the thought of it is so weird,” you paused, trying to grasp the words, “I mean, Fred can’t like me. We detest each other, its fun.”
“Well, do you like him?” she had asked the one question you were avoiding.
Fred had always been a thorn in your side. Ever since you met him he was rude. He never apologized for anything, he laughed, poked, and prodded at you for his own amusement. Yet, whenever you saw his soft-looking hair, you swallowed hard. When he inched closer to you, even just to whisper something rude, you felt your chest tighten. He looked at you, and you could swear he actually cared about what you were saying. Maybe detest was a little strong, perhaps just annoyed.
Granted, he was a teenage boy, and you are a teenage girl, mixed messages are bound to be sent. You thought you had been clear with your messages to Fred, though. “Leave me alone,” nothing bitter, nothing kind, just the wish to be left alone. Of course, Fred did not read your message that way. The enticing message he got was more along the lines of: “I’m going to pretend I want you to leave me alone, but please, don’t. Chase me through the hallways, confess undying love for me, kiss me passionately”. Now, it is entirely possible that Fred’s interpretation was a little clouded by his own wants and wishes, but this did not stop him.
The talk of the castle, for at least the following school week, was you and Fred.
You had never been whispered about, pointed at, or thought of like this. Fred seemed to be enjoying it.
In class Monday, Fred pretended nothing had happened. He swung his arm over the back of your chair and waited for the look of disgust to flash across your face, which it did, and he chuckled to himself.
Soon enough, the whispers and pointing had subsided, and they were replaced by odd looks as if they were disbelieving of something.
Luna found you in the courtyard sitting under a tree and skipped over to you.
“You hadn’t told me Fred asked you out,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “officially.”
Once again, you laughed, but she did not. She sat in front of you, crossing her legs.
“Oh my-” you trailed off, lifting your head to look at Luna, “what’s happened now?”
“Hermione told me that Fred has been raving to everyone about how you’re dating.”
Your eyes were wild with disbelief. You couldn’t have even comprehended what was going on at this school these days.
“Well, no one’s told me that we’re dating,” you said, your voice riddled with annoyance.
In perfect timing, Fred, George, and Lee bounded from the school and out to the courtyard. They were laughing and shoving each other, looking to be having a great time.
You stood from the ground, dusting off your pants and walking over to the three with fury.
“Fred!” you called out to him, and he stopped and turned to you.
A look of fear flashed on his face, but he covered it with something else, was it admiration? Love?
You clenched your jaw and narrowed your eyes, stepping close to him. He tilted his head down to look at you, a small smile on his lips.
Around you, George, Lee, and Luna stood with their arms crossed, watching intently.
Your bodies were almost touching, and your finger stabbed into his chest.
“Who do you think you are?” you said in a hushed tone through gritted teeth.
Once again, Fred’s face fell for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around your waist in some sort of embrace. You squirmed from his touch and backed away from him.
“Who do you think you are?” you repeated, this time louder. George and Lee flinched from behind you.
“What do you mean, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly.
Your face twisted with confusion, what is he on about?
“What?”
He continued, stepping closer to you.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked earnestly, moving to rub his hand on your arm.
He was trying to flip the script, make you feel crazy.
“Fred, you’ve lost it, really,” you replied, walking back to the tree to gather your books.
“Maybe when you’ve regained consciousness,” you walked back up to him, keeping your distance, “or the effects of whatever potion you took start to wear off, please try to explain what is going on.”
You walked away from them, leaving Fred with a wicked smile.
“Alright, see you later!” he called out to you.
You turned your head to look at him, your hair blew in front of your face but Fred could see your puzzled expression. His smirk grew wider and he turned to George, Lee, and Luna. They looked awfully concerned.
“Oh,” he placed his hands on his hips, “isn’t she great?”
You had gotten to Transfiguration early, your prefect duties switched for the week. You crossed your legs and placed a book on them, reading discretely while McGonagall was still in her office.
Just as she began to address the class, Fred strolled in, hands in his pockets. He slipped into the seat next to you and you bookmarked your page. You scooted your chair in and slipped the worn book into your bag, listening to McGonagall begin her lecture. Monday’s were often boring lecture days in Transfiguration.
You heard the screech of Fred’s chair on the floor, and in the corner of your eye saw him moving closer to you. He rested his elbow on the desk and placed his chin in his palm. He leaned close to you.
“Hello,” he whispered, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
You ignored him, dipping your quill into your ink in case McGonagall said something note-worthy.
“What’s ‘a matter,” he paused as if he was thinking of the most annoying thing to say to you, “darling?”
You audibly gagged, and his smile widened.
“What do you want?” you caved, asking him.
“Oh nothing,” he leaned back in his chair, still whispering to you, “just for you to be my girlfriend.”
You went rigid. Your face suddenly got very warm. You lost grip of your quill and it toppled over your ink, sending dark liquid across the desk and onto your white sleeve. You cursed loudly out of reflex and it caught McGonagall’s attention.
“Excuse me, Miss Y/l/n?”
Everyone turned to look at you and Fred in the back of the room, some people smirking. Fred stayed leaned back in his chair, watching you.
“I’m sorry Professor,” you stumbled out, wiping both the ink and your sleeve at the same time, making both things worse, “I just-”
Fred pulled his wand out from beside you and did a simple cleaning spell, you supposed. The ink receded back into its bottle and the stain on your sleeve disappeared. McGonagall watched him intently.
“Very resourceful Weasley, Miss Y/l/n, please don’t disrupt my class again,” she said curtly, returning to the lesson.
You heard a few snickers from your classmates, your face still a deep shade of red. You swallowed hard as you felt your heart beating in your ears.
Fred leaned forward again so his mouth was aligned with your ear.
“What do you say?” he whispered.
“What are you talking about Fred? Why are you doing all this?” you asked, straining to keep your desperate voice in a whisper.
“I’m only having some fun,” he replied as if he hadn’t been making your life a living hell for the past weeks.
You shot him a pleading look, and when he saw your flushed cheeks and watery eyes, his face softened.
“Hey,” he placed a hand on your knee, a knot formed in your throat and shivers went down your arms, “I didn’t mean to-” he trailed off and your jaw clenched. You returned your gaze to the front of the class.
“Listen, I’ve just been,” he paused, searching for the words, “I’ve been playing a sort of prank. On everyone but us.”
His tone was soft and playful as if he were letting you in on a secret. You supposed he was.
You raised your eyebrows, pressing him to continue.
“Well, George basically told everyone in our house that I fancy you, so I wanted to have some fun with it, switch it on them.”
You pressed your eyebrows together, still looking to the front of the room while Fred was inches away from your ear.
“I’ve told everyone we’re dating,” he said plainly, “house unity and all, as McGonagall said.”
“So that was true? What Harry told Luna?” you said before you could stop yourself, happy to finally get answers.
“Well, I don’t know exactly what Harry said, but I’m sure he didn’t leave anything out.”
“Why did George tell everyone that? That you,” you trailed off, feeling the words choking in your mouth, “that you fancy me?”
“Because I do,” he said quickly, and just as quickly moved on, “so what do you say? Want to be my girlfriend-” he paused, realizing what he had just said, “well, my girlfriend of sorts, not like my real girlfriend, because I’m sure you wouldn’t want to, and-” he stopped himself.
This time it was his turn for his cheeks to burn and his eyes to awkwardly avoid yours.
“Why do all this? Seems a lot for a joke that no one but us will laugh at,” you said, trying to ignore his confession.
“I’m willing to go to the ends of the Earth for a joke, my dear.”
Fred was dreadfully serious when saying that, and this became clear within hours.
Walking past the Dungeons and up the many stairs to your common room, you heard Fred call out to you.
“Wait up!” he was breaking away from a large group of Gryffindors, and all of them watched him with a keen eye,
“What, Fred?”
“Hey, that's not a very girlfriend-y tone,” he wrapped his arm easily around you.
You were sure it was meant to be sweet, but it felt a bit imprisoning.
“I never agreed to this,” you didn’t shake off his arm, but you felt inclined to. You were aware of the many eyes pouring into your back.
“I thought we had? Oh,” his arm left your shoulder, and you felt a little colder, “well then I suppose I could leave it all be, go back on my word, humiliate myself.”
His tone was a playful one, and you couldn’t help the bashful smile that reached your cheeks. You knew you had no obligation to Fred, but the whispers and gossip had seemed to subside during this new joke of his. You stopped at the landing, and the group of Gryffindors walked past you, staring at you both. Fred waved them off and nodded his head towards you, smiling.
“Why should I?” you clutched some textbooks to your chest, feeling grateful for the wall it put between you and Fred. He looked down at you, his hair falling into his forehead.
“Well,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, inching closer to you, “as I said, I just think it could be a bit of fun.”
“Fun for you. What’s in it for me?”
“What? Besides utter fame and popularity from being associated with me?”
“Oh shove off, Fred,” you rolled your eyes at him, but once again could not help the smile that spread across your face.
“See? I’m growing on you already.”
“I’m still seeing no benefit for me.”
“Well, I do see where your coming from, but I’d like to raise another point,” he slipped a hand from his pants and waved it casually while talking, “I will indeed pretend like we are dating even if you don’t.”
“So essentially, you would just be flirting with me while I hurl insults at you?”
He nodded enthusiastically.
“Is that the image you want, Fred?” you teased.
You moved to lean against the wall behind you, and Fred trailed after you.
“Any image is a good one,” he winked dramatically at you.
You shrunk away from him and gagged, sending him into a fit of laughter.
“I hate it already.”
“So you’ll do it?” he asked.
You breathed in, looking at him seriously. His hazel eyes were dark in this light, his hair had gone a deeper red in the lack of warm weather and sunshine. He towered over you slightly, and you looked at him through your lashes.
Shrugging your shoulders, you agreed weakly.
Fred saw the error of his thinking almost immediately. Walking through the hallways with you, he felt his heart soar higher and higher each time you laughed. When you would loosen up, or walk a little closer to him. He was being awfully unfair to himself, making himself think that you had something, some sort of relationship. It was like dangling a treat in front of a dog and wanking it away right when the dog drooled.
He saw the flaming house, and still walked in, looking for a place to sleep.
“Why, hello,” Fred drawled, coming up from behind you in the hall.
You felt his hand snake around your waist, and he pulled you. Your feet twisted from under you and you twirled, turning to face him. Your hair had skewed into your face, and he watched your delicate hand reach up to brush it away.
You looked dazed as if you had a lot on your mind. He smiled down at you and you did your best to reciprocate it.
“Are you alright?” he asked, dropping his hand from your hip.
“Yeah, just-” you took a deep breath in, “just got a lot of homework, been a bit busy with my prefect stuff.”
This was not what was bothering you. You felt a lot of inner conflicts these days, an endless moody and angsty monologue sounding off in your head day and night. You felt odd. You felt odd for agreeing to Fred’s stupid plan. You felt odd for toying with him and yourself. You had disliked him just last month, and now you let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, let him hold your waist. You felt like a traitor to yourself, letting him win you over with a few charming looks. You felt even worse when you thought of Fred’s confession. He had said he fancied you, and the idea of pretending to date him didn’t alarm you for some reason. You hated the feeling of toying with his emotions or allowing him to live out some sort of fantasy. Everything about it made you feel awful.
You didn’t feel as awful, though, when Fred would call out a comment from across the dining hall that would make your cheeks burn and all the other girls swoon. You didn’t feel as awful when he would sit in silence with you by the black lake, keeping you company among the chilling wind. You didn’t feel as awful when he slipped little notes into your bag when you left Transfiguration.
You had enough, one too many genuine looks of admiration. You needed to tell Fred how you felt.
You caught him on his way back from Quidditch practice. He was trailing near the end of the group, huddled with George and Harry. He had some dirt on his forehead, and his cheeks were tinted pink. He smelled of grass and sweat.
You pulled your cardigan tighter around you, wishing you had brought your scarf. Your hair whipped in the wind around you, and you rocked on your feet.
You began walking to him, and when he saw you he smiled widely.
“Hey!” he called out, walking faster to meet you.
“Hi,” you said nervously.
“I’ll meet you guys back in the common room,” he told George and Harry, who glanced over their shoulders at the two of you.
It was dusk and he looked strikingly handsome. You felt like you were seeing him as a different person. He wasn’t the boy who bewitched snowballs to attack you, he wasn’t the boy who laughed at your scraped hands. He wasn’t the boy who shoved Lee at you, and he wasn’t the boy who awkwardly danced with McGonagall. He was the boy who held you in his arms, stopping you from falling over the stairs. He was the boy who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, he was the boy who held you above anything else.
Your mouth was agape as you looked at him, he stood awkwardly waiting for you to say something. You looked at the ground, licking your lips and feeling them dry as soon as the cold air grazed them again.
“I wanted to talk to you,” you said quietly, hoping your voice would fade into the wind and carry you away.
“What’s up?” he looked down at you nervously.
“Fred, I-” he cut you off, placing a hand on your arm.
“You can’t do this anymore?” he looked deeply at you but you couldn’t meet his eyes.
You didn’t want to have this talk anymore, you felt content, suddenly, in pretending. You could both pretend to love each other until it wasn’t pretending. The lines would blur and soon, his kisses would come easily and his hands would have their place on you. You would touch his soft hair and know his eyes only looked at you. But you had already said the words, or rather, he did.
“I just,” you kicked the dirt beneath you, hoping he would finish your sentence again, he didn’t.
“I don’t think its fair,” you looked up at him finally and felt surprised to feel tears in your eyes, you blinked, forcing them to subside, “to either of us.”
You heard him gulp, and his eyes moved to look at the castle behind you. The candles had been lit and the stone glowed from the inside.
“I get it,” he said, removing his hand from your arm.
You looked down at where his hand had been and felt a tear drip down your cheek.
“Fred-”
He shook his head, pulling his mouth into a line. You stopped talking, feeling the words stuck in your heart.
You really wished you hadn’t said anything. You wished you could pretend again.
He walked past you, leaving you in the dusk. You hadn’t meant to, but a sob escaped your mouth. You heard his feet shuffle for a moment, and stop. He walked back to you.
He had finally been able to fall asleep among the fire, and it seemed you had come to join him at some point. He didn’t know when, but looking at you now, it seemed you had been burning for a while.
“What’s got you so torn up about this?” he said gently, stopping a few paces away from you, “Didn’t fall in love with me, did ya?”
A laugh fell from your lips at the same time another sob did. Your shoulders hunched over more, and Fred’s heart hurt him. He walked to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to face him, and you both moved at the same time. He pulled you close into his chest and your cheek pressed against him. He smelled, he was dirty, and he was tired, but he still held you tighter than you had ever been held before.
You pulled away from him after a while, coming to terms with yourself in the moment of affection. You wiped your tears from your face with your sleeve, taking a few deep breaths.
“I think,” you hiccuped, feeling it hard to speak, “I think that the pretending was too hard.”
Fred felt guilt wash over him. He felt guilty for himself, because you had said exactly what he was feeling. He couldn’t stand to pretend, to keep himself from gripping your hand, or from kissing you any chance he got. He wanted it all to be real, he wanted this wall between you to crumble into a genuine relationship. He felt guilty for making you feel this way. He felt guilty for pressuring you into this allusion of intimacy. He hadn’t stopped to consider if this would be negative for you, only insisting it would all work out for the best.
As he watched your uneven breathing and swollen nose and eyes, he knew this was not the best.
He breathed hard, forcing himself not to cry as he looked at you. George was supposed to be the sensitive one, but Fred had always been a sympathetic crier.
“Me too,” he replied, his voice sounding far, far away.
You looked at him, feeling terrified. The cold air was moving through you liked you were transparent. Tears kept flowing down your face, and no matter how fast you dried them, you only cried more. Your head felt miles away from your body, so you stepped closer to him, hoping to step closer to yourself too.
“I don’t think I want to pretend,” you croaked out.
He blinked at you, and you saw a single tear fall down his cheek. He didn’t move to brush it away, and it moved slowly. It left a clean mark on his dirt-stained face.
You took a step towards him, covering your hand with your sleeve. You cupped the back of his neck with one hand and brought your sleeved hand to his cheek. You wiped the tear and the dirt away, but your hand didn’t move. You peaked your fingers from your sleeve and they grazed his face. His eyes fluttered closed and your throat tightened as more tears poured from your eyes. Your vision was blurry as you traced his face, moving over his nose, eyebrows, and lips. You stopped to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your palm. You felt the wetness of more tears fall onto your hand, and you bit your lips, holding in a wretched noise.
“Fred?”
His eyes fluttered open, and you realized his hands had found their way onto your waist, he held you tightly.
“Do you want to pretend?” you asked him.
He moved his head from your cheek and kept his wet eyes locked with yours.
“I want you,” his voice was hoarse and sad, but that was all you needed to hear.
You buried your face into the crook of his neck and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.
The dusk had turned into the night, and you pulled away from Fred. You looked up at him and swallowed away the tears that remained. You began to walk past him and up to the castle. He followed you quickly.
You were scared. You had safety in pretending, knowing this was all something for fun. But as you looked at Fred now, you saw something deeper. You saw the threat of genuine love and connection, the threat of heartbreak.
Neither of you wanted to go without the other tonight, you had decided. You wordlessly followed him to his common room, and he slipped his hand into yours. You had both ducked into a prefect bathroom on the way there, looking at yourselves and covering your swollen eyes.
He said the password to a portrait of a large lady, and she looked suspiciously at you both.
“Are you two alright? You’ve just about missed curfew,” she said, her voice booming through the staircase.
“Yeah, we’re alright, just tired from practice, is all,” Fred reassured her, and the door swung open. He walked in first, and you followed.
You relished in the warmth of the spacious room, feeling drawn to the fireplace. You walked over to it and sat on a large couch. The room was relatively empty, a few kids hunched over books.
Fred sat next to you, still in his Quidditch robes. He grabbed your legs with his hand and guided them to rest on one of his legs, hanging over it. This angled your body to him, and he moved his arm to wrap around you.
“When did you realize?” he asked, his face lit by the fire.
“Just then, when you walked up to me after your practice.”
His chest moved with a chuckle and you moved your head to looked up at him.
“Well that's a little embarrassing for me,” he said, pushing a piece of your hair out of your face while you gazed up at him, “I've known since I met you.”
“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you said lightly, assuming he was trying to be some sort of romantic and inflating the truth.
“I did,” he said seriously, “I teased you for so long for a reason.”
“Because you’re an idiot?”
“Yes.”
You both laughed, pulling each other closer.
“And because I liked you.”
You rolled your eyes, sinking deeper into him. You felt yourself getting tired and you peered up at him. His eyes were half-closed and his face was drooping.
“Fred, you’re tired, why don’t you go to bed,” you began to move off of him, but he pulled you back.
“Only if you make me a deal,” he said mischievously.
“What?”
“I’ll go upstairs and take a quick shower, but only if you come with me,” he replied.
“I am not showering with you, pervert,” you smacked his arm and stood from the couch, blushing furiously.
He smiled and grabbed your hand, turning it to kiss your palm. You shivered at his touch.
“No, just come lay with me,” he looked up at you, suddenly serious, “I want to be with you tonight.”
Your heart sank to your stomach and you bit your lip. You couldn’t speak, so you nodded your head slowly.
Fred fished his wand from his robes and waved it towards the stairs, performing the counterspell for the stairs. You followed him up to his room, where he put his finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. When he cracked open the door, it was dark and the curtains for the beds had been drawn. He crept over to a chest at the foot of his bed and looked at you before turning to its contents. He pulled out two large pajama pants, both plaid, and two heavy sweaters. He tossed one of each on his bed and took the others with him.
“Here, you can sleep in these,” he whispered to you, and it felt like you would blush forever.
He smiled softly at you before closing the curtains for you, leaving you to change.
“Oi, mate,” you heard someone’s annoyed and hoarse voice, “what took you so long? Practice ended an hour ago.”
“I was talking with Y/n,” you heard the bathroom door open, “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow, I’m gonna shower. And don’t wake me up for breakfast tomorrow, I want to sleep in.”
You smiled to yourself, holding the soft sweater in your hands. It had a large ‘F’ on it, and you traced your fingers over it. You slid out of your jeans and folded them, placing them on the floor by the trunk. You slid on the pants he gave you and silently laughed as they easily ran past your feet and dragged on the floor. You folded them at the waist, and they were still too long. You had just slipped on the sweater when Fred slid open the curtain. He watched you fold your shirt and place it with your jeans. His eyes trailed from his sweater to the way his pants covered your feet. He smiled widely and drew you closer to him by grabbing your hips.
You looked up at him, your chests pressed together. He brought one hand up to your jaw, tilting it up to align with his face. His lips parted and so did yours, the air between you becoming a mixture of your breaths. His was minty, he must have just brushed his teeth.
His thumb grazed your bottom lip, and he finally closed the space between you. His neck craned down to you, but when you stood on your toes he was able to stand straight. You pressed as close to him as you could, and so did he. His lips were warm against your cold ones. He felt the many places that had been chapped and bitten, running his tongue over them slowly. You sighed and ran your chilled hands up his sweater, feeling him shiver beneath you. Your fingertips grazed the muscles on his back, tracing every line you could feel.
You pulled away first, sinking down to stand flat on your feet and rest your forehead on his chest.
“I’m so glad we didn’t pretend to do that,” Fred laughed out, pulling you close to him.
You smiled and hugged him, before moving to the other side of the small bed. You both slid under the covers silently, thinking that if either of you said something, things would suddenly be awkward.
The lack of bed only made him hold you tighter, and the two of you fell asleep relatively soon.
You were awoken by the sounds of laughter. The curtains were still drawn, and Fred’s arm was still wrapped around you. Your leg was resting on him as he laid on his back, hugging you close to him. Your head lifted from his chest as you squinted your eyes.
“No, he said he wanted to sleep in, mate,” you heard George say. The door opened and you heard footsteps walking towards it.
“You think they finally told each other?” Lee asked George, pulling on a wool hat.
“I hope so, bloody awful letting Fred think he tricked us,” George said before closing the door behind them.
You smiled and let your head sink back onto Fred. He stirred and pulled you closer to him. Through the fabric of his sweater, you swore you could hear the steady rhythm of his heart.
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stormyoceansmain · 3 years
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[im very much NOT a writer - i cannot stress this enough - but i truly mean it when i say sambucky is making me go insane. i find no other explanation for ending up writing 3.8k words of sambucky, alpine, and movie night. thank you if you decide to read this, i hope it's not too terrible]
Sam shows up at Bucky’s place for movie night with a case full of beers and ten minutes to spare.
Sarah makes fun of him for this Friday tradition they’ve been carrying out for the past few months, says he should just muster the courage to ask Bucky out on a proper date already. It doesn't matter how many times Sam told her he is just helping Bucky catch up to the 21st century, she always ends up giving him that Look that says she's not believing any words coming out of his mouth, which is kind of unfair, if you ask Sam.
Well, fine, maybe Sarah is right. Maybe Sam does want to take Bucky out on an actual date and hold his hand and kiss him goodnight and do all those sickeningly romantic stuff he used to daydream about when he was 16. Turns out former assassins who are incredibly annoying but also surprisingly kind are very much Sam's type. Go figure.
Still, they worked hard to reach the kind of friendship they currently have, and Sam doesn't want to lose that. He's also not blind to the way Bucky flirts with Sarah, and despite her insistence that Bucky does it more to rile Sam up than for any real interest in her, he’s not about to risk it all on a whim.
This resolution almost crumbles into dust a moment later, when Bucky opens the door wearing sweatpants and a blue shirt that matches his eyes. He is barefoot and his hair is getting longer, losing the harsh edges of the cut and curling slightly behind his ears. He is still all chiseled jawline and defined muscles, but he looks softer, more comfortable in his own skin, and the easy way he smiles at Sam makes a heavy warmth pool around Sam’s stomach.
“Hey,” Bucky greets him, sliding his metal arm around Sam's shoulders to pull him into a brief hug.
This, too, is something of a novelty. There's always been a sort of intense physicality about Bucky, both in how he carries himself and in how he is always aware of the bodies moving around him, but the casual affection, the playful abandon with which he touches and lets others touch him these days, feels like a wonder. Sam would have never expected it, and he had come to love and hate it at the same time.
“Hey yourself,” Sam greets back, splaying his free hand across Bucky's back, allowing himself to hold him there and breathe him in for a second, a fresh lemony smell coming off his hair, before giving him a quick pat on the shoulder and putting a respectable amount of space between them.
He buries his hands deep into the pocket of his jacket and follows Bucky inside, trying to resist the urge to slide his fingers under the hem of Bucky's shirt and feel the warm skin underneath it.
It's the first time Sam steps into Bucky’s apartment since Bucky took home the stray kitten he found on the side of the road three weeks ago, and the changes around it are staggering. Sam was used to empty spaces and few, essential furniture, but now the space in front of the window is occupied by a giant cat tower, and lots of smaller scratching posts are scattered all over the living room, along with different kinds of cat beds and toys.
“I see you redecorated,” Sam says with a grin.
Bucky shrugs, opening two of the beer bottles with a quick twist of his metal hand. “Cats need stuff.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I'm glad.” Sam grabs one of the bottle and clinks it against Bucky's. “Pets are great company and the place looks much better like this. I wouldn't have pinned you down as the crazy cat lady type, but it's always better than Robocop.”
Bucky rolls his eyes, takes a sip of his beer. Sam catches the smile he is trying to hide anyway.
Sam knocks their shoulders together, asks, “So where is she?”
“Hiding, probably,” Bucky says, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “She doesn't like strangers.”
Sam stops with the beer halfway to his mouth. “Excuse you,” he exclaims, outraged. “I very clearly remember accompanying you to the vet the first time you brought her in. I also sacrificed two of my shirts for her and have scars on my forearms where she scratched me to death. I think I deserve more than being considered a stranger. We basically co-parented that cat for the first few days!”
“That's nice,” Bucky deadpans. “Why don't you go tell her that? I'm sure the speech will convince her to keep the claws to herself.”
Sam glares at him and Bucky pats him on the arm. “Just relax,” he adds, turning to open the fridge and taking foods out for dinner. “If we let her be, Alpine will come out eventually.”
Bucky is right, of course. Sam had a few experiences with strays growing up, cats and dogs alike looking for shelter from Louisiana's storms under their porch, and no amount of treats he and Sarah tried to give them had been able to lure them out from their hiding spot. The best course of action in these cases was to wait, letting them come out when they felt safe enough.
It still weirdly feels like a rejection of some sort, but he tries not to let it show.
Sam takes a swig from his beer and asks, “Alpine?”
Bucky turns on the stove and shrugs again. He remains silent for a moment, a distant look on his face that Sam has learned to associate to memories better buried and forgotten. He is about to start telling Bucky about the science fair at the boys' school to change the subject, when Bucky speaks again, low and careful.
“She reminds me of the snow on the Alps.”
He doesn't elaborate on that, but Sam nods anyway, like he understands. He doesn't, like Bucky will never be able to fully understand what it means for Sam to carry the shield, but it's okay. They have each other, and that's still something.
Sam taps his foot against Bucky's bare one, watches Bucky's entire being exhale and relax. “Couldn't you have named her Snowflakes or something like that?”
Bucky levels him with a stare that tells him he would rather jump off another plane rather than calling his cat ‘Snowflakes’, and Sam laughs.
The far off look in Bucky’s eyes melts away and they fall into an easy rhythm, Sam sitting at the kitchen table and talking about some renovations he and Sarah would like to do to the house, Bucky cutting the vegetables to sauté.
They have moved on to argue about the best way to season chicken breasts – you cannot leave cayenne pepper out of the spice blend – when Sam catches a flash of white out of the corner of his eyes, and interrupts himself mid-rant.
A second later, Alpine jumps on the kitchen counter, sniffing the air.
It's been only three weeks since Sam last saw her, but she's already grown a lot, and looks much better too: her fur is shiny and clean, her eyes bright, and the slight sprain that caused her to limp around seems to be completely healed.
Alpine lets out a soft chirping sound and headbutts Bucky's arm, rubbing her head against him.
The smile Bucky turns to her is blinding, and Sam has to look away before he ends up doing something stupid, like climb over the table and kiss him.
“I know you're here for the chicken,” Bucky tells her, scratching her behind the ears. “But you can't eat this one.”
He scoops her up with a single hand, ignoring the disapproving meow that follows, and deposits her on the table right next to Sam's arm. Sam freezes, unprepared for the sudden proximity and recalling how quickly she can turn around and scratch, but as soon as Bucky's hand retreats, she is moving away, giving Sam a wide berth. She doesn't go back into hiding, though, just settles on the corner farther away from him and stares him down in a way that reminds him so much of Bucky, Sam doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry.
He is also struck by the sudden need to make Alpine like him.
“Is she gonna maul me if I try to give her a treat?” Sam asks.
Bucky tilts his head, considering, which does very little to reassure Sam about the safety of his fingers.
“I wouldn’t try hand-feeding her,” Bucky answers, fishing out a bag of treats from one of the cupboards. “But she likes to chase them.”
Alpine observes with quiet intensity as Bucky dumps a few treats into Sam's hands, and when Sam tosses one a few feet away she jumps down the table and runs after it, grabs it with a paw.
“Alright,” Sam declares, “that's pretty cute.”
Sam spends the next few minutes throwing treats at Alpine, inching them closer and closer to himself to test how willing she is to get near him with the proper incentive. The last one he places right in front of his feet, then he sits back and waits. Alpine hesitates, eyes flitting between him and the treat as to evaluate if it's safe enough, until finally she starts to move, slowly, slowly. She gets close enough to stretch her paw out, pull the treat towards herself and take it out of reach to eat somewhere else. Sam still takes it as a win.
Bucky clears his throat and announces that dinner is ready, so Sam leaves Alpine alone and helps him set the table.
Dinner is nice. Bucky makes a glazed chicken with honey and garlic that it's to die for, which Sam finds utterly unfair, considering he comes from a time where spices were believed to be a menace to the public.
He still goes back for seconds, and by the time they move to the living room to watch the movie, Sam feels full and content.
He finds Alpine curled up on one end of the couch, and while he believes they made some progress in their relationship, he doesn’t think either of them is ready to bring it to the next level, so he takes the seat on the other side, careful not to disturb her.
Bucky doesn’t say anything about it, just flops down between Sam and the cat with ease, his knee bumping into Sam’s.
This week they are watching the second movie in The Hobbit trilogy, if only for the horrified look in Bucky’s face when Sam told him that not only they made a movie out of the book, but that they actually managed to stretch it into three. Bucky, it turns out, is one of those people who notices every little changes from the original material, disapproves of them on principle, and is very vocal about his displeasure, exactly like the old man he actually is.
Sam had almost fell off the couch laughing during the first movie, and it had taken him a while to convince Bucky to give the other two a chance. Maybe it was a little assholey of him, knowing that it only gets worse, but just because he likes the guy it doesn’t mean Sam doesn’t want to subject him to some bad cinema for his own entertainment. After all, that’s what friends are for.
It doesn't take long for the comments to start up again. Bucky holds up for thirty minutes, rolling his eyes and grumbling under his breath from time to time, but then Legolas and Tauriel show up and Bucky turns his head to look at Sam, face completely blank, says, “Who the fuck are these people.”
Sam bursts out laughing, and it only gets worse when they reach the scene between Kili and Tauriel in the Woodland Realm: Bucky throws his hands up, exclaims, “Oh, come on,” and starts complaining about how they made the dwarf hot just to add a romance. It has Sam in stitches, and he has to grab onto Bucky's shoulder to stay upright and not end up falling into Bucky's lap.
The tirade ends with Bucky sulking and shaking his head, and Sam is glad for the temporary reprieve just so he can catch his breath. He feels flushed and warm, cheeks hurting from smiling, and the quiet is comfortable, familiar.
After a while, his eyes grow heavy, and he realizes he nodded off only when a light weight sets on his shoulder, jerking him awake.
The movie has ended, screen back on the Netflix title page, and Bucky fell asleep as well, head drooping until it had come to rest against Sam’s body.
The metal arm is glinting gold and blue in the light, and Sam stares down at it, then up at the lines of Bucky’s face, the soft waves of his hair. It always surprises him how vulnerable Bucky looks like this, how younger, and it’s so hard to remember there was a time Sam had actually been scared of him, of what he could do. Now, he would trust Bucky with anything. His life, his family, his home. His heart, too, if Bucky ever wanted it.
Sam knows he should wake him up, send him to bed so he can sleep comfortably there while Sam stretches out on the couch, but he also knows that Bucky still has trouble sleeping sometimes, and Sam doesn't have the heart to wake him up if it isn't really necessary. He’s well aware it's also a little bit selfish, because it's nice, having Bucky this close, warm and solid and smelling of lemon.
Sam takes a deep breath and rests his head on top of Bucky's. He thought he could handle this thing he has for Bucky, keep it under control, but he’s starting to realize he might have actually underestimated the size of his own feelings, which could become a serious problem in the future.
For now, though, Sam closes his eyes and lets himself have this.
The next time Sam wakes up, it's to something walking all over him. He blinks against the sudden light and when his vision clears, he finds Alpine sitting on his lap.
Sam stares at her, wondering for a moment if he is still asleep and dreaming all of this up, but his neck is sore, his arm heavy from Bucky resting against it in his sleep; there’s the beginning of a headache pulsing behind is eyes, and a pressure in his bladder telling him he should probably get up.
Alpine sniffs at his shirt and Sam tentatively raises his free hand, strokes a finger between her ears. She leans into the touch, head tilting up and guiding Sam's hand under her chin. Sam tries really hard not to shriek with delight.
“Oh, you're a sweetheart,” he says, a grin spreading out across his face. “Just like your owner. All tough and fierce on the outside, but adorable and charming on the inside.”
Alpine meows back at him, like she agrees with that statement, and Sam tenses up, glances at the steady rise and fall of Bucky's chest.
“We gotta be quiet,” he tells Alpine, petting her down her side. “We don't want to wake him up.”
“I'm already awake,” comes Bucky's voice next to him.
Sam's entire body jerks in surprise, and Alpine leaps off him, startled.
“Man, don't you do that ever again,” Sam says, a hand placed over his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
Bucky hums, sounding way more amused than he has any right to be, and sits up.
Blood rushes back into Sam's arm, and while Sam is glad to start feeling it again, he's already mourning the loss of contact between them. Except Bucky doesn't go far, just adjusts his position to angle his body towards Sam and rest his head on the back of the couch. It's easier to look at each other, like this, but they are now so close that Bucky's soft breaths are hitting the exposed line of skin above Sam's shirt, the hollow of his neck, making him shiver.
“So,” Bucky says, dragging the word out, lips tilting up at the corner. “I'm adorable and charming?”
Shit.
Of course Bucky would hear that, that's just Sam's luck. God, he is never going to speak again. He will take a vow of silence like in one of those monastic orders and move some place far and secluded where he won't be able to embarrass himself anymore.
He swallows, makes himself let out a laugh. It's meant to be mocking, but it sounds more nervous than anything else. “I think old age is making you hear things,” Sam still tries to deflect, “I clearly said annoying and self-centered.”
Bucky jabs him in the side with a metal finger. “Nice try, Samuel,” Bucky says, grinning widely. “But I've been told I'm a sweetheart.”
Sam's cheeks heat up. “I was talking about Alpine!”
He wonders if maybe T'Challa would let him hide in Wakanda for a while, just long enough for Sam to regain some kind of dignity. He hopes against all hopes that Bucky will have mercy of him and drop the subject, but of course Bucky doesn't. Sam wouldn't either, if their roles were switched.
“You said she is like her owner,” Bucky points pout, eyes bright and so very blue. He pokes Sam in the ribs again. “Which means, you think I’m a sweetheart, too.”
Sam bats his hand away. He may have embarrassed himself and he's lucky if he ends up this night without Bucky realizing Sam has feelings for him, but he is Captain frigging America. If he has to go down, he will go down fighting.
“What you are, it’s a nuisance,” Sam says. “And a creep. Who the hell pretends to be asleep when they are actually awake?”
“I wasn't pretending, you just assumed I was still sleeping.”
“Anyone would assume that, if you don't say anything.”
“I thought you were going to move as soon as you woke up, it's not my fault you didn't.”
“I was trapped between your heavy ass and your cat. What's your excuse for not moving?”
The argument comes to a halt, an awkward silence stretching between them as Bucky lowers his eyes, scratches the back of his neck. He clears his throat, shrugs.
“Your shoulder is nice,” he says in the end.
It's Bucky's turn to blush, a darker pink dusting his cheeks, and Sam feels like he missed something important.
“My shoulder?” Sam repeats.
Bucky doesn't answer him for a moment, then he straightens up on the couch, rolls back his shoulders like he is bracing himself. He looks up at Sam, and all Sam can see are his eyes.
“It’s comfortable,” Bucky whispers. “And I always sleep better when you’re around.”
Sam's mouth is suddenly very dry, and his heart is drumming against his chest in a way he has come to associate with diving down in midair, or dropping from a high place before his wings open up. This, too, feels a little like falling.
“Buck,” Sam says, because he thinks they are on the verge of something here, but he needs to be sure, doesn't want to mess this up and do something he's going to regret just because his head wants so desperately to see what's not actually there. “You gotta tell me if I'm reading this wro--”
Bucky kisses him.
It's a short kiss, just a soft press of Bucky's lips against his own and he's already gone, moving back to look at Sam with wide eyes, face open and vulnerable.
“Okay?” Bucky asks, and if he didn't sound so uncertain, like he's expecting Sam to push him away at any moment, Sam would laugh at how much of an idiot they both are.
Instead, he holds Bucky's chin between his fingers and pulls him back in. The kiss is deeper this time, turns into a wet slide of tongues and a harsh grate of stubble that makes Sam's insides feel tangled and hot. Bucky's arm slides around Sam's waist, and Sam moves his hand from Bucky's chin into his hair, grips it in a way that makes Bucky exhale sharply into his mouth. Sam wants to touch him everywhere, and he moves his free hand to do just that when a long, loud meow interrupts them.
They break apart just in time for Alpine to jump on the couch and sprawl in the space between them.
Bucky huffs out a small laugh, pets her from head to tail. He looks lovely, with his hair sticking up in odd places from Sam's fingers raking through it, his lips red from kissing, and Sam itches to go back for more, to lay him down and map every single part of Bucky's body with his mouth. He has, however, a horrible feeling about this.
“We will never be able to do anything with her around, won't we?” Sam asks, voicing his thoughts out loud.
Bucky sends him an amused smile. “Someone feels confident.”
Sam rolls his eyes, bumps their knees together. “Says the one who was about to climb on top of me.”
He's pretty sure he was the one grabbing and pulling Bucky closer, actually, but it doesn't seem like Bucky is going to call him out on it.
“It was a good kiss,” Bucky says, smile going soft at the edges, turning shyer.
“It really was,” Sam agrees, and because Sarah is always right, even if he'll never admit it in front of her, he adds, “Wanna go out on a proper dinner, see a movie? Maybe do the kissing part again?”
He's not expecting the way Bucky's lips drop down at those words, and Sam's heart sinks. Maybe he did read this wrong, after all. Maybe Bucky wanted to keep things casual, no string attached, and Sam just ruined everything. He tries to tell himself it was better to know that now, before things got too serious on his side, but it gives him very little comfort.
Bucky takes a deep breath, lets it out in a huff. “I don’t know, man,” he says. “If you make me watch another one of these godawful movies I’m afraid I'm gonna have to break up with you before this relationship even starts.”
Sam blinks at him, then bursts out laughing, sudden and loud. “God, you're an asshole,” he declares, but there's no heat behind it, and when he searches for Bucky's hand, Bucky intertwines their fingers together, places a kiss on the back of Sam's hand as an apology.
“I’m lucky you have terrible tastes, then,” Bucky says.
Sam really has questionable tastes, and if you had told him a few years ago that this was how his life was going to turn out, he would have probably laughed, or worse, tried to stop it from happening. But now, sitting there with Bucky grinning at him and Alpine purring between them, he feels lucky too.
71 notes · View notes
writing-gifts · 3 years
Text
both sides of the viewfinder chp. 4
adult film star!bruno x afab!reader  (they are also gn)
18+ content!!
chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4
——–
A/N: i was not quicker with the next update lol, but im tired of reading over it so gonna just throw it out there now since im mostly happy with it!
anyways, resort time babeyyy 😎
------
You try not to show it but you're filled with excitement. You've never been to a resort and Bruno had offered to pay for your expenses. Of course you were only willing to let him pay half (which was the lowest you could get him to go).
The two of you had been playing a game of sorts ever since your little session in the dressing room. Even though the both of you wanted to finish what you started, you had wordlessly decided to see how long the other would last before giving in. You couldn't really call it romantic but you did know there was lust involved--a lot.
The game had honestly made you quite bold and taught you some patience. Of course you still had some close calls though, and filming Bruno at work had made it that much harder for you. It wasn't fair and you made sure to let the man know this, but he just coyly smiled and told you he was ready to go whenever you were.
You drop your luggage in front of the bed you and Bruno would be sharing for the next week. At first, you assumed you would both be in separate rooms since you weren't an actual item, but Bruno wasn't having any of it which you were glad for. You wanted to get as much alone time as you could with him during this vacation.
You get closer to the sliding glass doors that lead to the balcony. The location was perfect and you had a nice view of the beach from here. You had never seen such blue water or white sand. And you could already feel yourself sprawled out on a towel next to a shirtless Bruno.
"Like the view?" Bruno asks, pulling you from your thoughts.
You nod. "This is great! Thank you again for inviting me."
"Of course. I didn't want to go a whole week without seeing you."
You try to force down the smile that appears on your face in response but it's obvious and you know Bruno already saw it.
He smiles, reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek. However, you close your eyes to avoid his very intense and persuading gaze.
"Gonna have to try harder than that," you say under breath as you turn back to the balcony.
"...I didn't expect you to last this long. You've definitely proved me wrong."
"And I'm going to win too." You stick out your tongue.
Bruno smirks but says nothing more before going to unpack his luggage. You eventually pull yourself away from the view to do the same.
-----
You lay on your back, sunglasses on your face as you let the sun warm you. You were still pretty full from brunch and any moment now you expected to fall asleep. 'Til then, you watch Irene, Eli and Jocelyn goofing off in the water and sand.
The group decided to start the day together off at the beach. Which was perfect because today was going to be about relaxation, at least for you anyways. You all had time to get rowdy later if you wanted to anyways.
"____?"
You turn your head to look at Bruno who currently lays on his front. His sun hat sits on the back of his head to keep that part of him shaded.
"If you don't mind, can you put sunscreen on me? It's been awhile since I last did."
"Sure," you say. You should probably put some on too when you're done.
You walk on your knees to grab the bottle out of Bruno's bag and then crawl your way over to him.
You couldn't help but take a moment to admire his tanned back. The muscles along it were a lovely sight and of course being the horny bastard that you are, your eyes drift down towards his ass. He had a cute butt that you had seen many times but still weren't tired of.
You suddenly remember a scene where Bruno was getting railed and need to take a moment to calm down.
Maybe one day…
"Hello?" Bruno pulls you from your inappropriate imaginings.
"Right, right--sunscreen."
You scooch up next to him and move to place your knees on either side of his hips so you can sit on his upper thighs.
Bruno looks over his shoulder at you with a raised brow, causing his hat to fall off, but you smile innocently.
"Relax," you say.
He squints but lays his head back on his arms.
Once you squeeze and rub the cool, sweet smelling cream on your hands you bring them to his shoulders. You spread the cream following the lines of his muscles on his upper back before sliding lower.
You spend a little more time on his lower back then you should, and the dimples that rest above his ass get special attention.
The man's hips shift oh so slightly and you look up and see that his eye is closed and his brow furrowed.
You scoot up and lean forward. "I could do your front too," you whisper in his ear.
"We are in public."
You jolt at the gruff voice a small distance away. Sitting up, you see Abbacchio scowling at the two of you from the giant parasol he's sitting under.
You sigh but move off Bruno before the goth kills you with his glare.
"You're right. Sorry," Bruno says.
You weren't sorry but nod anyways. It's not like you two were doing anything that obvious. Just some teasing. And there was barely anyone outside your friend group out here!
"Just keep it out of my sight." Abbacchio taps the airpods in his ear before returning his attention to the ocean.
After you all get your fill of the beach, which goes well into the evening, it's time to get ready for dinner.
Since it was the first official day of your vacation you all want something more casual but still on the expensive side. So you all eventually decide on Korean BBQ.
"I'm just glad you two didn't try to fuck each other on the beach," Irene says. "Even if it would have been fun to watch…"
Okay so maybe you weren't as discrete as you thought. Abbacchio throws an unimpressed look directly at you and Bruno, but you choose to ignore it.
"I was just putting sunscreen on him I swear…"
Eli smirks at you. "This picture says otherwise."
Your brows raise when they show you and Bruno the image on their phone.
Your cheeks go hot and you look down at your plate. "Why did you even take a picture of that?"
"Memories!"
Jocelyn barks out a laugh. "You have a weird taste in memories cause that's the last thing I'd want to remember!"
You roll your eyes but you know it was in good fun. Bruno seems mildly amused anyways.
Not willing to entertain the topic any further, you pick up a piece of grilled pork from your plate. As you bring it to your mouth, you feel Bruno's leg brush against yours.
You peak over at him but he seems to be completely invested in a conversation with Abbacchio.
You assume it's an accident until you feel him do it again along with resting his hand on your upper leg. His fingers gently squeeze your inner thigh before rubbing the area with his thumb.
You continue eating your food as if it has no affect on you. It takes a lot of will power though as he continues his caresses throughout the whole dinner.
Afterwards, the group splits off. Jocelyn and Irene head to a club, Eli to the casino (Jocelyn made sure to put a limit on the money they could blow) and Abbacchio to the bar. You and Bruno decide to head to your room, obviously not in the mood to go anywhere else tonight.
When you reach your room, you both get ready for bed acting as if you don't want to fuck each other.
You crawl next to Bruno on the bed once you're done with the bathroom.
"I'm not tired yet…" you say
"Me neither."
"I guess we could watch a movie or show. There has to be something we both like on Netflix."
You pick up the remote for the TV and make your way to Netflix and start scrolling through the options on the front page.
"What type of stuff do you like to watch anyways?" you ask.
"Romance works."
"You probably watch the explicit type of romance," you joke.
Bruno's eyes widen slightly and you surmise that you guessed right. Either that or he was weirded out by your statement and that seemed very unlikely.
You smile amused. "Well I guess we could watch something like that then!"
Once you both finally settle on something, you get comfortable and lean against Bruno.
The movie wasn't really that great and every sex scene that happened made you cringe but it was at least kind of entertaining. Still, you were starting to get bored and were still horny from all the nonsense you and Bruno had been up to the last several days.
So in a moment of weakness you place your hand on Bruno's thigh. He looks at you expectantly but you do nothing more.
You want to look at him properly to see his expression but you need 100% focus or you would break. So you keep your eyes on the TV as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. If you were lucky this would somehow bring your game to a close and the two of you could do something more exciting.
Bruno says your name under his breath, but you simply hum. Enduring that dinner was proof of your will and you believe you could keep this up all night if needed. (But that was the last thing you were hoping for.)
Suddenly, you feel a warm hand on top of yours.
Bruno guides your hand further up his thigh. "Please…"
"Huh?" You fake the confusion in your voice.
"Let's end this game."
"Oh...so that means I win?"
"Yes you win, just please touch me."
You smirk and move to kneel a small distance in front of him. "That was so easy!" You were thoroughly going to enjoy this.
When he sees you're not getting closer it prompts him to scooch forward on the bed, but before he can touch you, you push him down on his back and crawl on top. There's a slightly stunned look on his face but it quickly changes to one of anticipation.
You line your chest with Bruno's and lean down for a kiss which he returns enthusiastically.
"I never thought I'd enjoy losing this much...." he murmurs against your lips.
You smirk and continue your kisses down his cheek. Your hands find their way under his shirt and slowly explore the span of his abdomen and chest. He softly sighs when you begin sucking at the skin between his neck and shoulder and your hands squeeze him in response.
When you hear Bruno's breathing become slightly heavier you sit up and remove his shirt. You'd seen his body many times in all sorts of positions but you still take a second to appreciate his toned torso.
You press kisses to his chest and let your hands run down his sides enjoying how he just barely reacts under your fingertips. You stop at his hips, and your thumbs trace back and forth along his hip bones. Your tongue brushes against Bruno's nipple, and you feel him tense under your hands.
You move back to sit on his pelvis and immediately feel his cock through his pants. Bruno gently rocks his hips against your ass, and you entertain the motion by pressing down yourself.
His hands grab your hips, but before he can get too carried away you pull your ass off him. He ends up humping the air and lets out a sigh of frustration. His tune changes quickly though when he sees you move down between his legs.
"I'm not really feeling like I lost anything…"
You gently rub at his hard bulge through his pajama pants. "Well guess I'm just that generous. But at the same time I feel like I'm going too easy on you now."
"Please don't make me wait any longer ____."
You look up and the man's cheeks are flushed and he seems a little dazed, but he doesn't take his eyes off you. Seeing the usually controlled actor look at you this way has your stomach flipping.
"I didn't expect you to be so impatient," you say.
"I suppose you just have this effect on me..."
Smiling to yourself, you pull his pants down and are surprised by a pair of fancy panties.
You raise a brow at him. "...You already knew how tonight was going to end, huh?"
You carefully pull the satin fabric down before licking a slow stripe up his cock. The smug look on Bruno's face is immediately wiped away.
You wrap your hand around his twitching member and press your lips against the tip. He lets out a low hum, and your tongue licks against the slit before your mouth wraps around his sensitive head.
Whenever Bruno tries to move his hips you force them down and continue with your teasing touches along his cock. But eventually you decide to stop messing with him and fully take him into your mouth.
His eyes flutter shut. "Hmm, that feels amazing amore."
Even though he was finally in your mouth you move achingly slow and you can tell he wants you to go faster. And he makes it quite clear.
You let up a bit but mostly keep at driving him crazy. Your hand starts to knead at his balls and you immediately feel him twitching in your mouth.
"____. You're--"
You pull off.
Once Bruno realizes what just happened he deadpans at you. You laugh at his expression and he sits up with a sigh.
"Okay you had your fun, time to lay back."
You raise a brow at him.
Bruno begins stripping himself completely of his clothes. "You're the winner, right? Let me treat you."
Perhaps he had a point, and you didn't really have a problem with letting him takeover. This time.
Before you can think of taking your own clothes off, Bruno's doing it for you. His thumbs hook in the band of your pants and pull them down for you.
"...No underwear?" he asks.
You shrug and remove your shirt in an attempt to prevent yourself from laughing. "Guess you weren't the only one planning on ending this tonight."
Once you're done, you lay down and Bruno settles next to you. He places his hand on your lower stomach and brings his face close to yours. You immediately get caught in his blue eyes. It's not fair that he gets to be so handsome.
His finger easily pushes past your wet entrance while his thumb rubs gentle circles against your clit. Another finger is soon added and he begins to thrust his fingers slowly into you. When he crooks them against your walls you have a hard time holding back the noises you want to make.
"A-Are you gonna get me back for teasing you?" you ask. It would be deserved, but you hope he didn't. You hadn't realized how worked up you were until Bruno started touching you.
"Another time. I don't want to wait any longer."
He removes his fingers and gets himself situated on top of you. Once his hips are comfortably between your legs, you drag a finger along his cock before grabbing and lining it with your entrance. Finally after all the games you could both get some relief.
The moment Bruno feels himself against your entrance he presses in letting you take him slowly, inch by inch. When he's fully in, you sigh and slightly wiggle your hips. One of your legs hook around his waist and you place your arms around his neck. He keeps his eyes on yours as he pulls back before pressing in again and starting a nice and comfortable rhythm.
Your hand plays at the soft hairs at the nape of his neck before properly tangling into his locks. You pull and his lips part, a perfect moan falling from them. His hips thrust against you particularly hard forcing a groan out of you.
You smirk a bit. "Never get tired of that…"
Your fingers massage his scalp before you guide his face close to yours. Your lips join and he quickly presses his tongue into your mouth.
Just as you're really enjoying the kiss, he ends it. But before you can pout he pulls you close against him. His thrusts begin to speed up and his moans are muffled by the side of your face.
You always loved Bruno's moans when you were filming him but something about his current ones were different--so desperate and wanting. They had you clenching on his cock.
His hand snakes down between you two and your eyes fall shut as he rubs your clit. Your breath hitches when you feel him nip your ear.
Bruno hums. "You feel amazing...I feel like I could do this for hours."
You mumble something unintelligible under your breath in reply, not even sure what it you said until you start moaning out Bruno's name. Your back arches and your legs tighten around his waist to keep his hips in place as you come.
Bruno nuzzles against your neck and once your legs relax he continues thrusting.
"You came on my cock so well...ah, just a little more--"
His hips begin to stutter and he calls out your name. You press your lips to his temple and move your hips to help him along. His body tenses before he pulls out and comes onto your stomach.
Bruno's hips rock against you as he comes down and soon his body relaxes against yours. He doesn't seem to mind the mess he's making. His nose brushes against your cheek before you feel a kiss.
After some silence you yawn."...We should do this more often."
He stops peppering kisses on your neck and places an arm over your torso. "Agreed. In fact, we can start again in 5 minutes after I clean us off."
You gawk a bit at him. "Don't you get tired?"
"I do, that's why I said 5 minutes."
You scoff but end up grinning instead. "Well...it's not like we're going anywhere for awhile."
143 notes · View notes
arhvste · 4 years
Note
can you maybe do some hcs w kuroo tsukishima and oikawa when their s/o is being bullied by people from school?
love me some savage haikyuu boys 😈
-
KUROO, TSUKISHIMA AND OIKAWA REACTING TO THEIR S/O BEING BULLIED
-
KUROO
kuroo is a perspective little shit 
he analysis’ anything and everything 
he isn’t called the scheming captain for nothing 
so when he notice’s his s/o feeling down or acting different from normal he will find out what’s bothering them
he’ll ask you first
and if you’re not willing to give clear answers he’ll just find out himself
he doesn't want to overstep privacy boundaries
but if you’re being upset by something he feels like it’s his duty as your boyfriend to sort it out
so one day you’re waiting for him after practice
and you both usually meet outside the gym doors to talk home together
however
this time you’ve unfortunately encountered the people who have been making school life unbearable for you
“look its stupid little y/n!”
“why are you still here? waiting for your boyfriend like some sort of lost dog?”
“i don’t know how he puts up with you”
“so clingy and desperate for support i feel so bad for him”
they have you cornered and you’re outnumbered by far 
kuroo has been waiting outside the gym doors for 5 minutes now and is confused 
you’re never ever late 
so he wanders around looking for you since you aren't answering your phone 
now kuroo is annoying but he isn’t stupid
he’s had a hunch about what’s been bothering you lately
he’s noticed a few kids often hang behind class until you leave and they seem to surround you when you’re trying to leave your classroom
he never intervened because he didn’t want to wrongly accuse them of harassing you in case you were friends with them
but you still didn’t look particularly thrilled when you got away from them
so kuroo hears some familiar voices and he heads straight over to them
“don’t cry y/n you don't want to look even more ugly than you already do”
“oh look y/n’s crying they can't even handle a few jokes”
“your boyfriend might even dump you when he sees you”
“the only ones who need dumping are all of you into a pit of fire 🥰”
there stands the 6′2, muscular built, powerhouse school national level volleyball captain with the coldest look he’s ever had
the kids surrounding you are dead silent
“what? nobodies got anything to say now? i thought we were all just laughing and joking with each other so why’d we stop now?”
kuroos eyes soften as soon as they meet yours 
he’s grabbed your hand and pulled you tightly into his chest
“i don't think much of a warning needs to be made but let me make this clear just this once because i don't like having to remind people things, come near her, approach, talk about or to her again and you’re going to have a personal problem with me and my team. got it?”
lmfao the little bitches nod trembling and run 🏃🏽‍♀️
kuroo is such a science nerd who makes awful jokes and has the worlds most obnoxious laugh 
but he’s also a man and a captain and sometimes it’s easy to forget that
he can pick and choose when and what he wants to be perceived as
and right then he has chosen to show you who he really can be 
“why didn’t you tell me angel?”
“i didn’t want to have to bother you”
“oh baby you’re never ever a bother to me. im sorry i couldn't help sooner please never hesitate to tell me if anything like this happens again”
kuroo’s warning sticks with your bullies and they don't bother you anymore
the volleyball team and coach nekomata are throwing dirty ass looks at them too nfjdsbfjs
all in all, kuroo just wants you to know he is there to support you
and he’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and comfortable 
-
TSUKISHIMA
lmao all i’ve got to say to your bullies is good luck
because if tuski finds out you’ve been bullying his s/o
you’re done for 
this boy has no mercy
he doesn't even need to physically fight
his words can cut deeper than any knife and he knows it 
so when he notices you've been feeling more anxious around school and clinging to him a little more
he grows sus
he’s immediately closing in on who is bothering you and what insults he wants to throw at them
tuski has an exam and it runs a little into lunch 
he told you that if it runs over than you can just wait by your classroom and he’d come and get you 
however while you’re waiting you have a run in with the students who have been giving you a hard time 
just like tuski you’re a student who thrives in academics 
so a few of your classmates aren't particularly fond of your constant reign of lead in your class
“ew y/n you gross weirdo why are you here?”
“they’re probably waiting for their boyfriend to come and pick them up”
“such an entitled little shit, waiting to be collected who do you think you are”
so far you’d done pretty well ignoring them 
but that was in an environment with many other students who’d call your bullies out if they were to step out of line in class
right now you’re an easy target though
nobody to protect you
well that’s what you thought anyway
you feel your bag get snatched from your hands and thrown to the ground 
the bullies are kicking your stuff around laughing while you have no choice but to watch is despair 
that's until one of them is tripped up and lands face flat onto the ground
“you think i should kick them around and see if they can take it?”
tuski is standing there with a dark smile on his face
“so brave of you to pick on my y/n when you all have the audacity to look the way you do and don't even get me started on your academics”
“if i were you'd just apologise to your parents now because realistically what are you all going to do in your lives? success doesn't really look like it fits any of you to be honest”
the other students don't even know what to say
they can't exactly say anything
tsukishima is known to have a sharp tongue with an endless flow of direct insults 
“it’d be a shame if a teacher were to find out about this wouldn't it. im thinking suspension maybe? perhaps you should all call your parents up right now and apologise for your inevitable suspension”
the bullies look at each other nervously
he couldn’t be serious right
“im waiting”
these kids whip out their phones and are calling their confused parents trying to explain about how they could be suspended
“now off you all go, get out of my sight and don't you dare come near her again”
they be sprinting out the hallways 
“you weren’t actually gonna get them suspended were you?”
“it was depending on how fast they called their parents really”
tsukishima is on the floor helping you gather you trashed things
“im annoyed you didn't tell me. don't keep things like this from me yeah? cause not only am i here for you but, i get a kick out of it to. besides, im the only one who gets to be playfully mean to you.”
and he’ll make sure to keep a closer eye on you and keep you around him for a little longer just till he’s certain you’ve been left alone
OIKAWA
fangirls 
the absolute bane of his existence 
oikawa appreciated the support but it was overbearing sometimes 
especially when he just wants to spend time with his precious y/n-chan
in front of him, his fangirls would be so polite and supportive 
“you and y/n look so good together”
“i hope you’re treating them well”
“oikawa is is lucky”
but behind his back these girls were nothing but vicious and spiteful towards you 
you knew you’d have to deal with his fangirls at some point 
you’d decided to keep your relationship hidden for the first few months until oikawa suggested going public and you felt like you couldn’t say no
you’d hear comments as you walked through the halls
classes would’ve been a nightmare if iwaizumi wasn’t in your class
he knew you were struggling with oikawa’s fangirls but you pleaded him not to say anything to his best friend 
iwaizumi didn't exactly want to keep this from oikawa but he also didn't want to go against your wishes 
you compromised instead and told iwaizumi about everything the fangirls put you through and sometimes he’d even take it lightly into his own hand 
despite the fact you had oikawa’s best friend looking out for you, this was also a reason the bullying got worse
“you think you can get iwaizumi to back you up now? you want the whole team or what?”
yes
“stop being so overdramatic oikawa shouldn’t have to put up with someone as fragile as you”
“he can do so much better did you manifest or do witchcraft to get him to date you?”
the comments had become so common to you they started to have no effect
you slowly became more and more emotionally unavailable and this was something oikawa had started to pick up on
“y/n-chan you’ve stopped smiling at me so much. have i upset you?”
at first he’d think he did something wrong and he’d desperatly rack his brain for anything he could’ve done to offend you
“no you haven’t tooru i’ve just been tired lately”
you’d lie and give him a small fake smile 
but oikawa has given enough fake smiles in his life and is more than capable of being able to tell a real smile to a fake one
like kuroo though, he wouldn’t want to push any privacy boundaries and can only hope you’d open up to him soon
it doesn’t mean he’s not going to be watching you even closer now
he’ll ask iwaizumi whether he’s seen a change in your behaviour 
iwaizumi has finally decided this has gone too far
“idiot do you not see it’s your shitty fangirls that are making them miserable?”
“my fangirls?”
“yes your fangirls. y/n can’t catch a break with them around they’re really nasty to her and i don’t know how it’s taken you so long to see”
now that oikawa thinks about it you do cling to him a little tighter when they’re around
you don’t thank them for their ‘compliments’ about your relationship with the setter
you go extremely quiet and anxious when they’re around
oikawa had just thought it was nerves from sudden attention
he didn’t realise they had been secretly harassing you 
so oikawa goes to wait outside your locker when the day ends
“tooru shouldn't you be at practice?”
“come with me” he says sternly but he’s giving you a reassuring look as he grips your hand securely in his larger one
he walks you quickly through the halls and round to the entrance of the gym where his fangirls are usually waiting for practice to start
“oikawa-san! why aren’t you in uniform? is practice cancelled?”
“oh y/n is here... that's cute”
oikawa is beyond livid just from their presence alone
they even had the nerve to say your name?
“you know what isn’t fucking cute though? your disgusting behaviour”
the fangirls are look between each other innocently
“what do you mean oikawa-san?”
“don’t play oblivious with me you bitches! what was going through your heads when you all thought it was okay to harass MY y/n-chan?!”
the girls are silent now
oikawa is usually so charming and relaxed 
nobody sees him worked up outside the court
“there’s a reason none of you have even been allowed to be considered to have the chance to get to know me, you’re all fake. every single one of you. i hate fake people more than anything. this behaviour is gross i want none of you associated with me get out of here and if i hear one more thing about anyone upsetting y/n hell will be broken loose and that won’t just be from me.”
oikawa did not stutter 😌
king
the girls leave immediately 
“i think you’ve just lost yourself your whole fan club”
“oh y/n they were never fans if they have the nerve to upset someone they know i love. why didn’t you tell me i would’ve said something sooner”
“i just didn't want to upset you about your fans”
“you’re always going to be the first priority to me always if they or anyone else ever bothers you again, promise you’ll tell me straight away?”
“promise.”
after that he’ll take you to sit on the bench on the side of the court so you can watch him play and he can keep an eye on you
yeah oikawa may seem like a carefree people pleaser
but if you’re upsetting his s/o, you’ll be experiencing the side he tries to keep under control and he won’t be afraid to let loose.
-
ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE
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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years
Text
“Lucky Together”
Summary: Harry and Y/N always have wine night as best friends, but when Harry brings up the possibility of him going on a date, some confessions are made
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so best friends to lovers! and its WINE WEDNESDAY!! I’m not entirely happy with this and I had an original plan for it and maybe someday I’ll actually do that, but for some reason my hands like to write angst sometimes. It’s mostly FLUFF but there is a little bit of tension, but it ends on a good note. Also it just felt kinda cliche but I still liked it - im conflicted. Let me know what y’all think feedback is appreciated :)
Word Count: 2.5k | Warnings: swearing, a little angst
-
Harry heard the door opening before he even heard the knock on the door. Y/N swung inside his home as he began to get up. A grin was plastered on her face as she bounded inside, slamming the door shut behind her. 
“Harrry!” she exclaimed, dragging out his name in voice that wasn’t exactly her own - a more exaggerated, silly persona. “Are you ready to get fucked up on…” she slowed down as she looked at the label of the wine she was holding, “A $20 bottle of a lovely red wine that I can’t read the name of?!” 
She threw her bags and coat haphazardly on the floor and Harry grinned back at his best friend. Y/N was so impossibly electric sometimes. He loved feeding off her energy and she was always quick to feed off his as well.
It was Wine Wednesday, a tradition Harry and Y/N have had since the beginning of their friendship. 
They had met at a corporate party thrown by Capitol Records. They worked in completely different sectors, Y/N’s job would never cross with Harry in the studio normally, but they met that night and hit it off. A friend of Y/N did in fact work with Harry and had introduced them casually. After spending the night laughing their heads off together, Harry and Y/N had exchanged numbers, promising to follow up on things they had thrown out as things to do together. One of those ideas had been always wanting someone to have a Wine Wednesday with. She had told Harry that she did it a few times in college, but had wanted to start again now that she was a sophisticated adult. He had laughed and agreed, saying he had never had a designated day for wine, but he thought it sounded like a class idea. 
That next wednesday, Y/N had called Harry asking for his address and then told him she’d be over in twenty minutes. Y/N had burst through the door similar to how she had tonight, except the first time Harry had to open the door for her first. She had thrown her things to the ground, found her way to the kitchen and uncorked the random bottle of cheap wine she had found at the market down the street from Harry. After that, they began to switch off who was to supply the wine, but Y/N always insisted it be cheap and that they were always at Harry’s house.
They had lost track a long time ago about how many times they had done Wine Wednesday together. And it was always together and no one else.
He scoffed at his friend as she beelined to his kitchen, “Naturally!”
Y/N smiled, grabbing a fish mouth bottle opener. Y/N took it and played with it for a second, animating the bottle opened to look as if it was swimming. After amusing herself enough, Y/N set to work on opening up the random bottle of wine. Harry joined her in the kitchen, moving around her with ease to grab their two extra large wine glasses.
On their first Wine Wednesday, Harry had only brought out his regular sized wine glasses and Y/N had told him that she’d bring bigger ones next time. He had stopped her, reassuring her he had larger glasses, but hadn’t realized that was what she wanted. Her reply was that it was only the two of them drinking the bottle, “Who the fuck else is getting poured a glass?”
“What are you doing with that fish, gonna break it, love,” Harry teased as he placed the glasses to the right of Y/N.
She rolled her eyes playfully at him as she finally freed the cork from the bottle. “Was just giving Mr. Fish a proper swim before using him. It’s the same as knocking before you enter a room. ‘S polite.” She smiled smugly, before pouring two extremely full glasses of the red wine. After resting the bottle back onto the table, Y/N grabbed her glass and nodded to Harry to take his. Knowing what she meant, Harry immediately took up his glass and clinked it with hers. They both threw back their heads slightly, taking large initial gulps of their wine.
Y/N led the way into Harry’s living room, which was big and spacious. He furnished it with big comfy couches and various art pieces on the wall, some random items laid around, but mostly it was clean.
Y/N had brought over a few of the random items that laid around, when she had first come over, she had told him how bare it was in here. Next time she was there she brought over a scarf - to hang over a lamp - she’d embroidered and a small rainbow sculpture. Harry had thanked her for the gifts, but Y/N insisted he was doing her a favor by allowing a little more life in the room. “Don’t get me wrong this art is...so you. But why is there nothing else in here that screams Harry or like, I live here? Feels suffocating, so lonely” she had mused about the room. Harry didn’t have an answer for Y/N and she was okay with that.
“Okay, so what are we doing tonight? Movie, music, or gossip?” Y/N relaxed into the couch and stretched her body out, leaving her almost prone on the couch with her feet on Harry’s coffee table. Her stare fixated on his smiling face, awaiting his suggestion. He shut one eye while contemplating their options, then he took a sip of his wine and went to settle beside Y/N on the couch. “Think gossip and music, yeah?” Harry said thoughtfully as he threw his toned arm around the back of the couch.
Y/N shifted to allow herself to look at Harry. He was in a hoodie and sweats and he looked a little sleepy already. She knew that meant this Wine Wednesday was going to be a short one. As much as she loved hanging out with Harry and drinking wine, she knew that he needed his rest. If he was already looking tired, it was likely the half drunk wine bottle would end up in the trash can and she’d be catching a cab before midnight. It wasn’t annoying, Y/N always wanted Harry to take care of himself first, rather than putting others' needs ahead of his own.
Nodding, Y/N took a sip of her wine. “Alright, for music...What are we thinking? Beatles? Or...uh, Beatles?” she said as if ruminating on the bands coming out of her mouth. Harry’s hand that was on the top of the couch came down to swat at Y/N’s head. “Hmm, good choices...But I was feeling more Hall & Oates tonight. You mind?” She shrugged after hitting his hand right back. “Don’t care, but Lennon and Harrison just might be rolling in their graves right now,” Y/N said as her eyebrows rose and she looked disapprovingly at Harry. “You literally love Hall & Oates, Y/N, hush,” he popped back up after scolding Y/N and flicked on his speakers and pressed play on his Hall & Oates playlist of their discography.
“Would I have persuaded you more if I had asked for Fleetwood?” Y/N asked when Harry returned to his seat. She shifted to sitting completely, cross legged, fully facing Harry on the couch. Harry barked out a laugh before visibly considering her question. “Maybe,” he said with a scrunch of his face like ‘if only you had asked, oh well’. They both laughed.
“Okay, now you’re usually not one for gossip,” Y/N started after they had drank some more of their wine and talked a little more about the music, “So what’s your gossip. Spill.”
“So you know the bird at the coffee shop down the street, who started working there last week?” Harry started excitedly. Y/N finished her sip and nodded seriously, curious to hear what Harry had to gossip about that concerned this woman. “Well, today she told me my coffee was on the house, and then when my black coffee was ready it had her name on it and her number!”
“That’s forward,” Y/N mused, her tone wasn’t necessarily judgemental, but it definitely wasn’t ecstatic as Harry had expected when he had decided to tell Y/N the story.
“What? Would you not have liked that if someone had done that for you?” Harry asked, genuinely wondering what made Y/N not be her usual excited self. She was also a hopeless romantic, so he had thought she would have loved this.
“I mean, I guess I would have been flattered, but you’re not seriously considering taking her out? C’mon, Harry, she obviously knows who you are,” Y/N paused, trying not to sound like a total asshole, “Just, if I were you, I would always be wary of people’s true intentions before I started anything.”
Harry sighed and took a long gulp of his wine, decreasing the amount in the glass significantly. Soon, he’d need a refill. “I know that...but she seems so sweet and I haven’t been out with anyone in awhile. Romantically.” He added the last word after a beat, like it needed clarification that when he went out with Y/N it wasn’t something romantic. She twitched and shifted in her seat, trying to push away the negative feelings she got when Harry made that distinction.
“Okay, if you’re that desperate for someone then go for it,” you said not fully realizing the exact words coming out of your mouth. Your mouth dropped when you processed what you had just said. Harry looked at you with slight disbelief. “I didn’t mean it in that way, Harry. I just-”
“No, I got what you meant. You think this woman is just using me for attention and that I’m so starved of any romantic connection that I’m willing to be used. Have you ever thought about why I’m so starved of any romantic life? Maybe because I’m always hanging out with my alleged best friend who never approves of anyone I bring up.” Harry sounded hurt. Y/N felt terrible. He set down his glass and shifted to face her more fully, his face set in a good amount of anger.
“That’s not fair, H,” Y/N sighed and placed her glass on the coffee table. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. You give your heart away so easily and then people just end up taking advantage of you and hurting you. And I hate seeing you hurt. Because I’m the one who is always there to pick up the pieces.”
“Why are you always there though, Y/N? Why do you stick by my side when I’m always apparently making the wrong love choices?” Harry asks, his tone rising to something that was almost aggressive.
“Because you’re my best friend, Harry!” Y/N laughed incredulously. She was in disbelief that Harry would even ask her such a question. It was strange that their evening of fun had escalated into this nightmarish confrontation.
“That’s not enough,” Harry insisted, forcing them to continue the conversation. The conversation the two of them had never thought they needed to have. “You’re right, you’re always there to mend my broken heart. And you always discourage me from going for risky romances. And you never talk about any potential people for you? Why?”
“You’re my best friend! I don’t know what else you want me to say? What do you want me to say, Harry?”
“You know what I’m asking, Y/N.” And just like that, Harry turned from aggressive to pleading. He wanted her to say what he had always thought about her, but had never pushed it because she was his best friend. His jade-toned eyes were glassy and wide, begging for her to answer truthfully.
Y/N gripped her jaw in place at Harry’s pleading words. She raked both her hands through her hair and couldn’t believe what Harry was saying right now. Finally, she sighed when she risked a glance towards Harry’s face. It turned everything around for her, she couldn’t hide from that face. She couldn’t hide from Harry, ever.
“Because, I love you. I love you, Harry, in more than a best friend way. Happy now? That was literally the most unromantic way to tell someone you love them, but you asked for it,” she shook her head and threw herself against the couch, flailing her arms slightly in exasperation.
Harry moved himself to Y/N’s side and moved her so that she was looking at him. He rested his hand against her cheekbone, and stayed and cradled her face right there.
“I love you, too. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you. It just...something made me press the subject. It wasn’t very kind of me.” He rushed to say, instantly feeling conflicted. He was overjoyed and relieved at Y/N’s revelation, but also felt guilt for the way it had come about. He had been the one to escalate the conversation.
“I didn’t mean to call you desperate,” Y/N said softly as she raised her own hand to Harry’s face. “You aren’t desperate. You’re amazing and wonderful. You love with your whole heart and anyone would be lucky to be with you.”
“Darling, you’re the one someone would be lucky to be with.” Harry brushed a stray hair behind her ear and moved his face closer to hers.
“We could be lucky together?” Y/N whispered as his nose brushed up against hers. Harry blew a short breath out of his nose, hitting Y/N’s face. “I’d like that,” he responded.
Then he leaned the rest of the way and connected his lips with hers. She pressed back eagerly tasting the red wine on Harry’s lips. As they kissed, Harry felt something wet slightly touch his face.
He pulled back slightly, “Are you crying, petal?”
Y/N sniffled, “I just, I never thought this would happen. I’m happy...it’s just a lot.”
Harry nodded and wrapped his arms around her waist. “C’mere, we can just be here in this moment, together.”
Harry pulled Y/N into his lap and settled back into the couch. Her head rested softly on his shoulder and she ran a hand up and down his muscled arm. It was smooth and soft, and it radiated heat. Harry’s presence was always soothing, but especially helpful right now. Y/N calmed down, significantly, while in his arms.
“So does that mean you won’t call that bird?”
“No, no, I will definitely...not call her.” Harry chuckled at her question. He was happy that she was feeling more like herself, sarcastic and bubbly.
The pair sat snuggled on Harry’s couch, taking in each other’s presence as “Sara Smile” by Hall & Oates played softly through the speakers. They both smiled and sang softly along to the words. Happy in one another’s embrace.
-
taglist: @cronias13​ @theresthingsthatwellneverknow​ @harrys-cherrry​ @harrxier​ @sltwins​ @awesomebooklover17​ @harrys-stan​
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settersloveletters · 4 years
Text
NO. 1 FAN
• part sixteen; just endurance training
prev | masterlist | next
⤷ y/n will always go out of her way for her family, especially for her 7 year old niece, who happens to be kageyama tobio’s number one fan. what happens when the charming sweetheart, y/n, meets the emotionally null, kageyama tobio? and what happens when those two fall in love at first sight?
a/n: its here.. ENDING is ambiguous. ill leave it up to those big imaginations yall have 🧠 hahaha. IDK IF THIS IS TOO OOC. whatever ill justify it by saying “adult kags is mature and horny and knows what hes dooing hahsjej. also likes to dirty talk im sure of it 🤗🤩😋
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[!] under is written smut which is not important to the story, sorta, kinda [!]
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➳ word count: 1.5k
➳ warnings: smut, but nothing too crazy; hand job, praise kink (kageyama recieving), cum eating?! is there a proper word for that lool
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Wow, he’s really hot. Not that that’s new news, but here he is, in your small living room, freshly showered with damp hair in the comfiest loungewear. After all the commotion -- trying to fix the car only to decide on letting him sleepover, setting up a comfortable sleeping place for him, and of course, not trying to embarrass yourself on countless occasions -- you two now rest.
“Hey, wanna watch something?” you suggest as the two of you sit on the couch, a TV perched on the cabinet across from you. Even though you two sit at least three feet apart, you feel his body heat emanating and he hears your heart beating a mile a minute. It’s weird, you two are usually so normal and casual, able to converse and talk, but why is it so different right now.
“Sure, you can choose.”
“Romcom? Oh, or maybe this documentary. Wait no, I actually like this movie,” indecisively you scroll through the library of movies. “That one,” Kageyama says in such an alluring tone that has your finger slipping, the chosen movie is now beginning.
Minutes in, it might be your mind playing games, but the distance between you has become smaller and smaller, and before you know it your hips are touching. You feel every rise of his chest when he breathes and he feels every time you jump or squirm against him. And to be honest, the movie is getting deathly boring when your eyes would much rather feast upon the man beside you, his toned arms and big hands. You’re almost so tempted to touch them, compare them to your own, interlock both your fingers.
“Are you even watching the movie?” Kageyama scoffs, and when you get a better look at his face, you see the small rosy tinge that covers his cheeks. “Yes, I am. Are you?” leaning into him even further, your body acts before your mind can think. You give him a peck on his cheek. It’s not like you two have never kissed before, but this feels new, fresh, exhilarating.
“I am, for your information. Unlike you, staring at me like you’re the predator and I’m the prey,” he looks you dead in the eyes, deep blue engulfing you. He’s letting you know the nature of the relationship; he is no prey.
Gently grabbing the back of your neck, Kageyama pulls you into a kiss, lips touching and sending pleasurable jolts across your body. The distant movie playing has drowned out in the background as your heavy breathing and heartbeats fill the room. You even let out the tiniest of whimpers that shoot straight down to his cock. His other hand begins to wander, until it settles around the small of your waist, pulling you up onto his lap.
You two spend an eternity, his touch constantly rubbing along your body, your fingers twirling around his hair, and your lips and tongues dancing with each other. With your legs straddling his, you don’t shy away from giving an experimental grind against his clothed erection.
“Hm,” his moan is muffled in your interlocked lips. You pull off, looking him in his eyes, all clouded and gasping for air. There’s something tantalizing about the thought of being the one to seduce Japan’s top young athlete. Seeing the young star in front of you, lips red and swollen from all the kissing and almost begging to be touched. It has you quivering at the knees. This is Kageyama Tobio..
“Ha, I didn’t think you’d.. Baby, let’s take it slow, yeah?” you tell him, slipping the cute pet name in which has him pulling you in closer to him.
“Of course. To be honest, I don’t know how much of you I can handle at once,” he looks down at you, jabbing at your usual boldness and forwardness. You can tell he’s nervous. “I should be saying that to you,” you sigh, hands grabbing onto the formed tent in his sweatpants that has you too excited. He’s big.
“So, why don’t we just touch today,” you give him a reassuring smile, giving his cock another squeeze that has him moaning aloud again. Kageyama just simply looks at you and gives a nod in response. He’s embarrassed at his own voice, but to you, it sounds like heaven. You don’t hesitate in lowering the waistband of his pants and boxers, letting the heat of his cock expose itself. Looking at it has you biting your lower lip and shifting in his lap. You wrap your hands around his girth, feeling heavy in your hands as the thick veins tickle the pads of your fingers. You stroke his shaft, listening to the way he audibly gasps and groans under your ministrations. Your fingertip rubs along the head, picking up the drop of precum, allowing you to give him a more satisfying jerk.
“Do that, that felt good,” he breaths out. You pick up the repetitive motions as you feel the surface of his cock heating up, and the unsuppressed sounds spilling from his mouth. The sweet clicks of your strokes has you desperate for more, desperate to pleasure him more. Boldly, you spit onto the head of cock, slicking him up and quickening the pace. Kageyama lets out a needy noise that has your insides trembling and panties uncomfortably wet.
He likes the attention, you know it. He loves being able to openly receive this love from you, no matter how foreign or new it is to him. This thrill Kageyama feels has him aching for more. His hands grasp onto the legs that sit on his lap, squeezing the soft exposed flesh of your skin. His mind goes wild imagining what lies beneath those tight shorts you purposely wore to seduce him, what you’d look like all exposed just for him. He’s not usually this dirty minded, but you’ve always managed to pull out the craziest things from him.
“What are you thinking about, baby?” you ask with your innocent and calming voice, totally contrasting the lewd hands that continue to rub at his cock.
“I’m thinking about a lot of things..”
“Like what my panties look like?”
You will be the death of him, he swears. Before he can even respond or react, you’re already removing your shorts, showing him the delicate black fabric underneath that leaves oh so little to the imagination. Kageyama is brazen and confident on the court, but in the intimacy of right now, you have to be in control of the game. Straddling him again, you continue where you left off, bringing him closer to his release with your hand, kissing along his jaw and neck. “I won’t leave marks, don’t worry.”
“I don’t mind,” he manages to say through his pants. Without hesitation, you leave the tiniest mark on the side of his neck. The thought of tainting his perfect skin has you moaning against him, only egging him further to completion. His cock twitches in your hands, which has you stroking him faster.
“C’mon baby, you can cum anytime. You’ve been so good to me,” praising him, Kageyama looks directly into your eyes, face gone red, eyes hooded with uncontrollable lust as he groans aloud at your words. He likes it. “You’re so hot, baby. Cock’s so hard just for me,” his breathing gets heavier. “Gonna cum soon? Do it. Be good and cum all o-” He suddenly grabs both your wrists in his hand, stopping you from doing or saying anything else.
“Get on your fucking knees.”
You weren’t expecting that at all, which has you smirking and doing exactly what he says. Getting off his lap, you settle on the ground in front of him. You watch Kageyama intently as he stands right in front of you, cock in his dominant hand. He rubs himself, shallow jerks near the head of his big cock, with his other hand resting itself at the back of your head.
“I’m about to.. Can I?” his gasps get louder as he reaches the brink of climax. You stick your tongue out, a nice distance away from him, willing to accept all the love he has to offer. You admire the way his cock stills, and with a moan that has you throbbing, spurts of his cum land in your mouth. White ropes paint your tongue and face as Kageyama looks down at you, gasping for breath. You swallow his seed, all while never breaking your eye contact.
The movie has been long done, leaving you two alone in the now quiet room. Your thighs rub together, still in need for his touch even though he looks utterly exhausted. “You wanna sleep now, baby?” you simply say as he pulls his pants up, adjusting his now softening cock. Kageyama grabs a small cloth from his bag and begins wiping your face clean.
“No,” he discards the cloth and picks you up bridal style, walking you two to your bedroom. “It’s not that late. And, I still think I have a lot to learn..”
“Don’t you have practice tomorrow morning?”
“This is just endurance training.”
- TAGLIST -
@anhphunnnn | @adamarvv | @asahiswaifu | @fangirling-25-8 | @kei-kui | @lilacshouko | @smol-enbybackup | @gyubit17 | @renee1414 | @denkiwenki | @xanaxdeity | @cuddlesslut | @nikkipea | @lovemesomehwa | @muiyuuuu | @oikawalmart-hq | @mirdy47707 | @lumiriai | @notamazinglizzy | @starwrite-er | @dearkags | @hamsterfan17 | @sugawsites | @anime-simp | @singleandlonely | @levisackerwoman | @cactuski6 | @kingkagss | @gentlechainsaws | @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that | @prettymuchboo | @highlyanxiousintroverted | @anna-pcy21 | @sweetlysugawara | @yqshirov | @kingkags | @marifujioka | @luna-barnes14 | @musekala | @thechaosoflonging | @oikawasphlatass | @tremendousglitterthing | @kathya420 | @daninaninani | @maii-flowers | @akakuzumo | @tycrackculture | @gaychemicalwater | @mariachiii | @kiyoomile | @jaxneedshelp | @xs-hoodie | @preparingtofall |
(taglist continues in the replies!!)
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machinegunbun · 4 years
Note
🤘-
What about reader is the manager/assistant and fucks up some bug career opportunity for them?
Mistakes can allways happen but that was something really big
Maybe even gets fired for it?
Fucked It +
TW?: Mostly angst but theres some very slight smut with readers S/O
A/N: Not to age the writing but Im writing this as colson tweets that he’s gonna play at the halftime show in the next few years. S/O= Significant Other. I wanted to keep it kinda gender neutral cause bi people exist i dunno. 
Word count:1.8k A little longer than a blurb, but just as dialogue-y
This year had been stressful, to say the least. There was the release of tickets to my downfall, and along with that the cover scandal, the bloody valentine music video, downfalls high, the snl episode. It was like every second of your day was filled with something, you rarely got the chance to spend time with your S/O.
That’s right, you had an S/O. Being Colson’s manager wasn’t your entire existence, although you’d seemed to have forgotten that recently. Their name is Devin, and they are not very happy with you.
They’d broken down in tears your first full night home, telling you how under appreciated they had felt while you were away. Devin had a life of their own too, though, and considering the pandemic at hand had chosen to go stay with their family to avoid the covid hot spot that was LA. You understood, and as much as you hated to admit it you barely even realized they were gone. You didn’t know what that meant, but you knew whatever it meant wasn’t anything good for your relationship, but, you loved them and you wanted to recreate that spark.
You wanted to put work into them, and you, and most importantly your relationship. You’d gotten through the emotions, but as for the spark there was only so much you could do thousands of miles away. So, you decided to put in the work and devise a plan. Your plan started about an hour and a half ago, beginning with a shower and ending with your favorite lipstick.
You love Devin and you want nothing more than to wrap them up in a soft blanket and kiss them on the forehead and take them on picnics, but you also wanted them to look at you and touch themselves. You could do one of those things in your current situation, and you felt both would help to replenish your spark.
You looked good too, dressed in your lingerie with your hair all done. You felt so unbelievably sexy just looking at yourself in the mirror, you wished they were here to witness it.
You stood in the doorway of your bedroom, your LED lights set to red, your phone set to start recording in 
3…
2…
1…
You tried your best to pose sexily in the small frame, arching your back and playing with your hair, slowly slinking down the wall. You were sure when you sent this Devin would be calling you within seconds. You checked the video, editing it to the length you liked and saving it to your camera roll.
Butterflies began fluttering in your stomach as you looked at your message app. You had seen Devin in so long, what if the spark had really gone? What if they didn’t want you anymore? Or what if they just didn’t want you right now, what if this wasn’t the right thing to do?
You took a deep breath, looking yourself in the mirror and quickly clicking through your messages, sending it before you could think too much and clicking your phone off. You moved from the bathroom, moving to your bed, staring at your phone and waiting patiently for a response.
After thirty minutes you gave up, too nervous to check if they’d seen it. You were cool.
Well, you were cool now that you had cried and and picked yourself apart piece by piece, ending up on the couch in a heap of blankets eating a family bag of your favorite chips to yourself. Family guy played on the TV, the episode only really meant to drain out the noise of your thoughts, and momentarily the bling of your phone. You would’ve missed it entirely if it weren’t for the flickering of your flashlight that you’d enabled to make sure you didn’t.
You rushed from your comfy blanket fort, spilling your chips on the way, your hand wrapping tightly around your phone. You turned it around, seeing that the notification that had popped up was only from Dylan, the guy that got Colson a place at the halftime show. 
Work, great, the thing that started this all. Was this the universe telling you it was over? You read on.
It simply said “Call me.”
Your eyebrow raised, considering waiting until tomorrow. You opened your messages, seeing that you had accidentally sent him the video of you in your lingerie. Fuck, thats why Devin hadn’t responded.
You opened his contact, calling him quickly, each ring feeling like needles being inserted into your brain.
“So I hope you understand why we wouldn’t want to be associated with that unprofessionalism.” He said, you’d zoned out through his lecture
“I understand, I do, but I hope you’d be willing to reconsider as this was a mistake on my part and not Colson’s. And seeing as this isn’t public I hope we can just brush this all under the rug and forget it ever-”
“I hear you, but I don’t think that will be possible. Mistake or not it was unprofessional on so many different levels
“But, sir-” You tried, your fingers thumbing over the buttons of the remote to mute the tv.
“It’s over, I’m afraid.” He responded, a beeping noise signalling the call had ended
Oh, nicer, you thought sarcastically, it wasn’t the universe after all, it was the manager.
Tossing your phone on the couch beside you, you retreated to your blanket fort, unmuting the TV.
Colson and the boys had been looking forward to performing at the halftime show since you’d met them. They’d been so excited when you told them you’d got them a spot. Although it was the last thing you wanted to do right now, you knew you had to break the news to Colson. 
You stared at your phone, willing yourself to reach over and call him, eventually drifting off into an unsatisfying sleep.
“Oh good, you’re here! Okay, so I was thinking for the halftime show-” Colson began, but you cut him off before he could continue
“Oh, yeah, about that.” You say, rubbing your head in hopes it would soothe the dull ache that had begun to rear its ugly head. You opened your eyes in time to watch the excitement drop from Colson’s face.
“I…” You began, not sure how to start “I fucked it.” You began to laugh, taking a moment to acknowledge how ridiculous the situation had really been.
“What do you mean?” He asks, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion.
“Devin and I are going through a bit of a rough patch with them being away and all, so I decided to try and,” You made a vague shimmy movement with your shoulders “spark things up a bit. You know the silhouette challenge on tik tok? I did that, but I got nervous when I sent the video and I was on the couch for like hours crying too scared to see if they even looked at it, next thing I know I’m getting texted by Dylan asking me to call him.” You paused, partly for dramatic effect and partly to let yourself laugh. You buried your face in your hands, Colson watching in amusement, eager for the end of your clearly hilarious story.
“I accidentally sent him my nudes. It was so fucking embarassing, oh my god!” You finish, looking up from your hands to realize no one else seemed amused.
“What’s that got to do with the halftime show?” Rook questioned.
“Oh, right.” You’d completely lost track in the midst of your rambling “He said it was completely unprofessional and he wasn’t interested in working with us.”
Colson remained silent for a moment, looking over to the other boys before responding “He isn’t interested in working with you.” Your eyebrows furrowed at this, looking between the boys..
“What’s that mean?” 
“This is the gig of our lifetime. I’ve- We’ve wanted to play the halftime show since… forever. This was our one chance and because of you we got booted out. And you were laughing about it.”
“I’m sorry, it was a genuine accident, I thought you’d find it funny. Some corporate guy saw my tits ‘cause my relationship is failing, if I don’t laugh I cry.”
 “You’re the one who sent him the nudes. This is your fuck up.”
“Yeah, okay. But I work for you, so by association he won’t work with us.”
“Then you aren’t a part of ‘us’ anymore.”
“Colson, seriously? It was a fucking accident. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Watch your tone, I think you’re forgetting you work for me. I’m a nice guy, but this isn’t my shit to deal with.”
“I’m sorry.” You repeated, your voice lowering. It was easy to forget Colson was your boss, he never treated you like an employee. There was more respect between the two of you than any boss/employee relationship you’d ever seen before. You’d never even seen him mad before today. You were genuinely lucky to have had this experience, to think that it was about to come to an end broke your heart.
“Is sorry going to get us this gig back?” The question was rhetorical, but you shook your head “Then I’m sorry, I can’t let this pass me up because of something you did.” Colson says, staring you down. You stood like a statue in your place, unsure whether or not you should leave. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.
You took it upon yourself to make the decision to turn and leave, driving to the nearest gas station, where you sat in your car, crying in the parking lot.
Everything was fine and in the matter of a week it had all gone to shit. How did this happen?
You were in a happy relationship, and now they were living with their parents for who knows why and telling you they felt neglected. Your career was going amazing and you’d ruined it completely with one mistext.
You started your car back up, settling on the hope that maybe Colson and Dylan would come to their senses, and come Monday morning you would still have a job.
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free-pool-trash · 4 years
Text
folklore - isaac lahey {7/?}
Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait I’ve been ridiculously busy the past few weeks 😓BUT!!! As compensation I made this part super long and fluffy with sooooooo much Isaac/reader content (enjoy it while you can because shits gonna be messy from here on out 🤭🙈)
Having said that, I don’t have my laptop right now as I moved houses and my stuff got put into storage so I’m working with the mobile version 😓 sorry in advance if formatting is weird I tried to make it better 😓 also there’s no continue reading button so sorry if this comes up on your dash 😭
Let me know what you think tho I’d really appreciate it 💕
Word count: 5.5k 🙈
Warnings: Fluff 😳, mentions of blood, Derek being a PAIN IN THE ASS, Isaac being the cutest 😌✨, ✨kissing✨, swearing
Masterlist
Tag list (open as always): @makeusfreefromthisfandom om, @cece-lives-here here, @chocolate-raspberries , @belsandthings , @dancing-tacos-23 , @truly-dionysus , @britty443 , @tanyaherondale , @furiouspockettoad , @yunsh-17 17, @random-thoughts-003 , @gloomybrieyxb , @futuristicslimemongerbanana , @linkpk88 , @big-galaxy-chaos , @im-a-stranger-thing , @riaisnotcool (I think u had a username change but idk let me know and I can fix it), @its-evita-here , @pad-foots , @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy , @bookswillfindyouaway , @what-the-hap-is-fuckening , @awkwardnesshabitat , @pieces-by-me me, @wreny24 , @kerosene-angel (if this is the wrong username I’m sorry it wasn’t working the way I had written it down so I’m assuming I just took it down wrong 😳 it it’s not you let me know and I’ll remove you), @marveloucnco o, @babypink224221 let me know if you’d like to be added <3 (strike through means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)
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The days you’d spent in Mystic Falls bled into weeks and soon enough you were being beckoned back to Beacon Hills with a head full of things you hadn’t had a clue about two weeks prior.
There, of course, was the matter of Peter- who was now dead, well technically, he was murdered.
Derek’s first course of action as Beacon Hills’ new alpha was to break the news to you. He’d killed him but due to Scott and Stiles’ constant text updates, you knew it would’ve had to be done sooner or later. But still, you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last of him. That small intuitive feeling in the back of your mind told you that you’d see him again soon. You just hoped your next meeting wouldn’t be happening because you ended up buried next to him.
Over the course of your stay with Alaric, who had left you in the care of the Salvatore brothers- Stefan and Damon, you’d honed several new vampiric powers. As it turned out, some of the powers you possessed were completely unfamiliar to the vampires of over a hundred years.
You had super speed, it wasn’t just enhanced as you’d previously thought. As well as that, you’d discovered that you could run circles around both Stefan and Damon Salvatore, who were obviously a lot older and therefore should’ve been a lot faster.
And for that matter, they should’ve been stronger than you, they should’ve been able to snap you like a twig. They should’ve been able to. But they weren’t. Because not only were you faster, you were stronger too.
While having super speed and super strength was nice, mind compulsion, your most recent discovery, now that was incredible. All you had to do was look into someone’s eyes and they would become completely entranced to do whatever you told them.
Despite being over a hundred years old, neither Stefan nor Damon had ever seen a vampire quite like you.
They’d never seen a vampire who was also an empath, that, apparently, was usually more of a witch thing. Neither of them had ever come across a vampire bite which had a euphoric effect either. But having said all of that… they’d never heard of someone being turned from a wolf bite. Or a vampire who still had a beating heart, for that matter.
Your only real downfalls were that, for one, your blood’s healing capacity didn’t operate at the same speed for you as it did when being used to heal others. You’d put this down to the possibility that maybe your system had just grown too used to it. To be perfectly honest, though, you had no idea.
Secondly, your empathic tendencies were beginning to bring you down, but it wasn’t just that… it was the way in which you’d been instructed, by Damon Salvatore himself, on how to make them stop.
The plane ride home to California dragged on longer than you would’ve liked, the flight was delayed and you were absolutely starving by the time Derek picked you up from the airport. Your parents were still away, they’d travelled to Romania in search of answers to your predicament and they wouldn’t be home until at least next week, so that left Derek on chauffeur and babysitting duty.
“How are you?” He’d only spoken up thirty minutes into the car ride, you let out a sigh from the passenger seat and gave him a tired smile, you could feel the nerves radiating from him. He was afraid you’d be mad at him for killing Peter, and maybe you should’ve been, but again, you had a feeling he’d be back, and besides, spending time with Damon had helped you realise that everything wasn’t so black and white. It finally registered with you that people like Derek and Damon, the dark mysterious bad boys with secret hearts of gold- they sometimes did bad things but with good intentions.
Once you discovered this, you decided amongst yourself that you’d ease up on your not-really-big-brother in the future. Even if it meant you got hurt a little in the process. If hurting you was what he needed to do to learn his lesson then you’d be willing to make that sacrifice.
So you gave him a soft smile and answered, “Hungry.”
Derek let out a chuckle at that, nodding his head towards the backseat, drawing your attention to the three full blood bags laying on the leather seats.
A delighted gasp left your mouth as you snatched the plastic bags into your hands, wasting no time you stuck the attached tube into your mouth and began gulping the first bag down- it was definitely Stiles’ blood you were drinking, you’d gotten so used to the taste of it you were sure you could recognise it anywhere.
Letting out a happy groan you threw your head back against the headrest, “Stiles Stilinski you are a doll.”
Derek chuckled again, glancing at you fondly before his steely eyes returned to the road ahead.
It was only another 30 minutes before you were back in your driveway. “So are you staying here until my parents get back?” You questioned from the porch as Derek got your bags from the trunk of his car, the wolf shook his head with a smile, “Nah, I’ve got some stuff to do at home.”
“Derek, that home isn’t even structurally sound.” You chastised softly. Surely he’d be happier spending time with the family he still had breathing rather than living in the remnants of what used to be his.
Walking up to the porch, Derek placed your case down gently by your feet and moved himself to stand in front of you. A genuine smile painted his lips as he gazed at you, “New rule.” He stated, placing both of his hands on either of your forearms before going on, eyes staring affectionately into your own, “From now on, I will be doing all the worrying about you, alright? Not the other way around.”
With a defeated sigh, you nodded your head. “I’ll try my best.” That had been a lie. Unable to blind you with his unusually sweet sentiment, through the physical contact you could tell he was scheming.
“Good. Now, go get some rest I’ll come check up on you in the morning.” He kissed your forehead and then made his way back to his car, speeding out of your driveway and out of sight before you’d even unlocked the door.
The house was cold and empty when you’d re-entered. A shiver ran up your spine the second your feet stepped past the threshold. Something was very wrong, and unfortunately, you couldn’t tell what exactly it was that was so wrong. The feeling was unnerving, it was dark and it was agonisingly heavy. Like anxiety on steroids, lots of steroids.
Swallowing thickly, you gripped -more like clawed- at your chest. Nails scraping your skin as you attempted to catch a single breath, though it seemed that oxygen was determined to outrun you as you glanced around helplessly.
Almost twenty minutes has passed as you heaved and gasped frantically, overwhelming dread flooded your chest while simultaneously tears flooded your eyes, and still you didn’t have even the slightest idea of what it all meant.
And then it hit you. That panic- it didn’t belong to you.
Within a second you’d risen to your feet, breathing still staggered while you rushed out the front door, your vampire speed being put to good use as within seconds you were where your panic had led you. Night had fallen by now and it was completely dark, not to mention absolutely freezing, the hoodie you had on doing nothing to protect you from the biting cold in the air. The trail of feelings you’d been chasing had led you to Beacon Hills cemetery and before your eyes, there it was, the something that was very wrong.
Derek and Isaac. More specifically, Derek’s teeth buried in Isaac’s arm. You hadn’t even registered what you were doing when you ripped Derek from Isaac and violently threw him across the cemetery, the impact in which the Hale hit the tree all the way at the edge of the graveyard was a testimony to your strength. You hadn’t even used half it.
Without hesitation, you inspected Isaac’s body frantically, eyes lingering on the bloody bite across his right arm. Slowly and mournfully, your eyes met his, which were wide with shock. His heart was beating out of his chest to the point where you couldn’t ignore it.
“What did he do to you?” The question slipped out as a whisper, your anger melted away only to be replaced by dread as Isaac began to speak, “He offered me the bite and I- I said yes.”
“Isaac…” Your gaze drifted to the bite and you weren’t surprised to see it already healed. “I’m sorry.” You heard him mutter from above you, his anxiety pooling in your chest and mixing with his guilt.
Shaking your head softly you pulled him into you, your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders while his own arms held you tightly against him as you kissed his temple to release him of the intense anxiety plaguing him. “Don’t be sorry. I understand.”
He relaxed against you upon hearing your words, the two weeks you’d been gone made him realise something, he was utterly useless without you, or so he thought. He felt weak. He felt as though if he didn’t have you as emotional support he was defective. Derek had honed in on that and manipulated it to his advantage, convinced Isaac that the bite was what he needed in order to be strong by himself. To keep you safe instead of you protecting him all of the time.
“Was that really necessary?” Derek’s voice broke the moment and you found anger was surging through you once again. You separated from Isaac to face Derek.
At this point, you didn’t care what his intentions had been, you weren’t going to let him away with this.
“I’m going to give you three seconds to explain why you did this.” As Derek moved to speak you ruthlessly cut him off. “Too slow.” And with that the back of your hand met his cheek, again sending him flying, only not as far this time.
His fangs were barred now, as were yours. Both of your eyes glowing, his red ones threatening as he attempted to demonstrate his power. And yet again, you had a revelation.
You couldn’t stop the laugh that fell from your lips, a synacal and sarcastic lilt to it as you towered over Derek’s form on the floor.
“Oh I get it!” You exclaimed, lip held between your teeth in mock disbelief you pressed your palm to your forehead as you spoke, “You thought you’d go around and stalk some kids so you could add to your big bad pack. Right?” He growled at you and attempted to pick himself up, only for you to give a swift, hard kick to his chest, returning his back to the dirt.
“I guess you told him it’d make him stronger? That it’d make all of his problems go away? And what about the Argent’s, huh? Did you tell him that you were manipulating him?” It was then, again in panic, Isaac spoke up to your surprise, in Derek’s defence.
“(Y/n), I promise it isn’t like that! He told me everything, it was my choice I said yes!” You spared him a glance before crouching down to Derek.
“Well did you tell him how you usually treat your pack?” The words were dripping in venom and the guilt that radiated from the man didn’t deter you from moving forward with you verbal attack, your head turning to Isaac, your eyes sparkling with sadness as you locked eyes with him, speaking hoarsely you wondered out loud, “Did he tell you that he’s a liar? That he doesn’t know how to run a pack? That if he doesn’t understand you he’ll leave you in the dust?”
The look on his face spoke volumes as he recalled the state Derek had put you in the weeks previous.
With a final sneer in Derek’s direction you delivered your parting words, “You better treat him better than you continue to treat me or so help me Derek Hale I will tear you to shreds.”
As you angrily stormed away, Isaac stood in confusion for a second before he began to chase after you, leaving Derek on the dirt floor to help himself.
“(Y/n)! (Y/n) please wait!” He shouted as he was just starting to catch up to you. When you felt that you were at a good enough distance away from Derek you finally slowed your pace.
When Isaac finally made it to your side, he was panting slightly, swallowing the lump in his throat he nervously grabbed your hand.
“I’m sorry.” He repeated, his eyes resembling those of a puppy and you could already feel your composure slipping away from you as you looked at him.
It’d been almost three weeks since you’d seen him, three weeks since you’d made out in the school basement and this definitely wasn’t how you were expecting the reunion to go.
“Isaac it isn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you, ok? I get it. I’m just worried, this town isn’t exactly kind on the supernatural.” You reassured him gently, squeezing his hand and giving him a sad smile.
“Don’t worry about me.” Isaac told you and you had to laugh, “Sorry, babe but I will not be taking my eyes off you until this town becomes normal.”
Isaac’s face was then taken over by, what could only be described as, a Cheshire Cat smile, “Did you just call me babe?” His voice was teasing and you felt your face heating up despite your freezing temperature.
Sucking on the inside of your cheek you tried your best to conceal your growing smile, you shrugged innocently, “Yeah. What about it?” The playful lilt in your voice had his smile widening even more as he began to lean down to you, his face getting closer to yours by the second.
His breath fanned across your lips when he spoke next, “I liked it.” With that, his lips pressed to yours cautiously, as if he was still unsure of whether or not it was okay to do so.
His uncertainty melted away when he felt your lips begin to reciprocate his actions and your hands moved to cup his cheeks.
The both of you could agree that this kiss was different than the last one you’d shared a few weeks ago. “Why is it that we only ever kiss when one of us is coming out as a supernatural creature?” Isaac laughed against your lips as you pulled away with a sigh.
“It would be us wouldn’t it.”
After a few minutes of nagging at Isaac you managed to put all the pieces of Derek’s plan together. Isaac himself didn’t actually know all that much, just that he was the first to be turned, but that alone told you everything that you needed to know.
Derek was now an alpha with no pack, so logically, a pack was what he was building and that would have been perfectly understandable- if he hadn’t started with your best friend.
“There’s a full moon coming up, did he tell you what would happen?” You questioned gently, ready to throttle Derek when the boy in front of you shook his head.
Heaving a deep breath you squeezed his hand reassuringly, the initial excitement of being turned had worn off and Isaac was beginning to radiate anxiety once again.
“Don’t worry okay? I’m gonna call Scott, he’ll be able to help you.” Isaac’s eyebrows came together in confusion, “Scott McCall?”
You nodded your head, “He’ll know how to help.” You tried to convince Isaac without spilling Scott’s secret. Not that it was going to stay a secret for too long, but it wasn’t your secret to tell.
Isaac shook his head rapidly, his hands moving to hold your forearms, his panic at your suggestion hitting you like a freight train as he stared into your eyes, a wild look in his own.
“No no no no. You can’t tell anyone. (Y/n) promise me you won’t tell anyone okay? If my dad finds out I’m a werewolf he’ll-“ The words came out almost as fast as you could run and his panic only intensified when his father entered his mind.
Quickly catching on to his looming panic attack as his eyes began to glow yellow you cut him off, “Isaac.”
He didn’t hear you as he kept rambling, claws growing past his nails and digging into your arm, “No he’ll kill me. Oh my god he’s gonna kill me. (Y/n) he’s go-“
Yes, it would’ve been easy to rip your arms from his grasp that was causing you quite a lot of pain as his nails sunk into your skin as his hands held onto you desperately. However, you had a feeling that his hold on your now bloody forearms was the only thing keeping him from spiralling completely out of control.
“Isaac! Look at me!” Your voice was strict but served to make his amber eyes finally settle on yours.
Gently, you finally slipped your arms out of Isaac’s clawed grip, although you were sure it would’ve been less painful to just leave them, his claws dragged down your arms while you lifted them slowly and cautiously until you replaced them with your hands, using your new grasp of the boy to provide him with some peace of mind.
You focused your energy on shifting a sense of relaxation from your own palms to Isaac’s sweaty ones as you spoke, voice soft again, “I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s just you and me, alright? Focus on me, yeah?” Isaac nodded his head, still slightly frantic but calmer than before as he did as you told and simply focused on you, “Take a deep breath.” You instructed, breathing steadily along with him until his eyes returned to their natural blue colour and his claws retracted.
A moment of silence passed with Isaac slumped against you, hands held tightly in his while he steadied his breathing. You placed your lips to his cheek and then again to the bruise forming beneath his right eye, you hadn’t noticed it earlier. You’d almost forgotten it’d been nearly three weeks since you’d been together, he’d probably been though it with his demon of a sperm doner over the time you were away.
“I’ve missed you.” It was Isaac that broke the silence when your lips disconnected from his injured face.
“I missed you too.” You replied simply, there was so much you’d planned on saying to him while you were in Mystic Falls but at the moment, you felt there were more pressing matters to discuss and again, it was Isaac who spoke.
He pulled away slightly to look at you properly, hands still clasping yours, he gave them a squeeze before he started speaking, “This pack that Derek’s building… I’m guessing you’re not in it?”
“I was never asked. But I’ve kind of already got a pack, which you are more than welcome to join.” You responded hopefully, wishing he’d agree but you knew he wouldn’t. As such a fresh beta he’d stay loyal to his alpha, but, you had to ask.
Isaac nodded his head sadly, “Scott McCall?” You let out a small laugh, at how quickly he’d caught on, “Yeah. He’s not exactly an alpha but he’s helped me out a lot, more than Derek has.”
“Derek told me that wolves are stronger as a pack, he didn’t say anything about vampires though.” Isaac went on, a confused lilt in his voice.
“I found out in Mystic Falls that vampires rarely belong to packs and by vampire nature I don’t need one, but Ric figures that it’s in my nature to want one since it’s all I’ve ever known.” You relayed the information to Isaac.
“Then why not, you know, join mine?” His lip was pulled between his teeth and he was looking at you with a hopeful expression.
“Isaac I just told you…” You said pleadingly, you didn’t want to upset him any further but you also couldn’t throw away the pack bond you’d built with Scott and Stiles when you’d first turned. If it was a matter of Isaac’s pack being made up of just Isaac there would’ve been no problems, it was the fact that it wasn’t Isaac’s pack but Derek’s.
Scratching what you’d decided about Derek earlier, you came to a new agreement with yourself: all of hell would freeze over before you even thought of easing up on Derek Hale.
Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “Come on, (N/n)! We are not going to let our love play out like Romeo and Juliet!” The way he spoke was humorous but it was obvious that he wasn’t really joking.
With a sigh you moved your shaking hands, that were now covered in scabbed over cuts as opposed to their previous status of raw and bleeding, to Isaac’s face. Your thumbs moved gently along his cheek bones as you took him in with an encouraging smile on your face as you told him confidently, “I refuse to let us become a modern day Romeo and Juliet, that’s not happening.”
You pulled him closer to you, slipping your arms around his shoulders and doing your best to ignore the butterflies rioting in your stomach when his arms wrapped tentatively around your waist.
You brought your lips to meet his briefly before fixing him with another determined look, “But listen to me, we might be loyal to different packs but I’m on your side, no matter what.”
Isaac nodded his head in understanding, “If it comes down to it, I’m always gonna choose you.” He responded honestly, arms tightening around you to hold you against his chest, his height causing his chin to be tilted downwards so that he could meet your eyes.
“I meant what I said to Derek, by the way.” You informed, Isaac’s eyebrows rose in confusion again, “If he mistreats you I’ll tear him apart.”
“Should I give Scott the same warning?” Isaac asked humorously and you had to shake your head in order to hold back a laugh.
It wasn’t until you’d separated from your embrace with Isaac that you took into account the fact that your body was now shaking with the cold.
“Come on, I’ve gotta call my dad and probably the sheriff and you’re freezing.” Isaac stated, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you back to the cemetery where you noticed his overturned excavator and the dug up grave plot.
You listened with curiosity while Isaac spoke to his father on the phone, trying to explain exactly what had transpired in the last couple of hours since his shift started.
“How the hell does an excavator just flip over, Isaac?” You could hear his fathers anger through the line and Isaac fumbled for a response, “Someone, or something- I don’t know it could’ve been an animal, but it got pushed from the side and tipped over. I fell into the plot I was digging and that was it, I didn’t see the rest.” He explained weakly.
“You still stuck in hole, you idiot?” You watched as Isaac clenched his jaw and motioned to yourself when he was finally looking at you, “No. No, um, (Y/n) just got back from Virgina, she came looking for me and helped me out.”
“She still there?” His father questioned, seemingly cooling off at the mention of your name. You hated how much that man seemed to like you when he should’ve held that affection for his actual son.
“Yeah, she’s with me now.” Isaac confirmed and you offered up a fake cheerful, “Hi, Mr Lahey!”
“Invite her over while I call the sheriff and see about getting this mess cleaned up.” With that, he hung up the phone and Isaac sighed, “You’re starting to look like Mr. Freeze, let’s get you warmed up.” His arm stayed comfortably wrapped around your shoulder and as you reached up to hold his hand that was hanging over your shoulder you stopped dead in your tracks, “Isaac, I can’t go and greet your father looking like this.”
You motioned to your torn and bloodstained hoodie, immediately regretting it when his eyes widened in shock, “Did I… oh god (Y/n) did I do that?”
Not missing a beat you grabbed his hands and made sure you soothed his panic before you got a rerun of earlier.
“It’s not your fault. You’re new to this, okay? Mistakes happen and that’s fine it’s all part of the process. And look!-” You pulled off the hoodie to reveal your now completely healed arms and hands, nothing but dried blood to show that the claw marks were even there in the first place. “‘M all healed up! No harm done.” You reassured him, bringing his lips to yours to further convince him that you were okay and distract him from the guilt you could feel building within him.
Your arms, although no longer cut, were covered in goosebumps as Isaac ran his hands affectionately down the length of them. “It won’t happen again.” He promised and you gave him a shaky smile, teeth beginning to chatter, “Let’s go home?” Isaac nodded his head, nothing short of ripping his own hoodie off before pulling your arms through the sleeves and moving himself in front of you to zip it up.
You watched completely content as he fumbled with the zipper. His curls were falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were squinted in concentration. The quiet, but triumphant, “got it” he let out when he finally finessed the zipper had you grinning like a fool.
When he moved his focus from the zip and back to your face, he smiled bashfully, “What’re you looking at me like that for?”
The sleeves of his hoodie, that was miles too big for you, hung far past your wrists and brushed against the nape of his neck, your fingers finding a place tangled in his hair while you stared at him, grin ever present.
Your other hand was otherwise occupied being placed firmly against Isaac’s chest, enjoying the feeling of his rapidly beating heart, and you didn’t know it entirely. But in that moment it was beating for you and you alone.
Isaac’s hand made itself comfortable holding your waist, the other holding your own against his chest, keeping it in place.
Neither of you needed to say it. You could both feel it. But still, you found yourself uttering the words, “I love you.”
Not half a second had passed before Isaac echoed your declaration, “I love you.”
“I feel like if I kiss you right now I won’t be able to stop but I’m still freezing my ass off so… your place?”
Isaac nodded his head in agreement, “My place.”
*
Upon arrival at the Lahey residence, Mr. Lahey had greeted you with a wide smile and ushered you into the kitchen where he instructed Isaac to make you some tea, to which Isaac had to restrain a grumble as he’d been planning on doing it anyway.
Mr. Lahey was happily chatting away to you when Isaac set down two cups of tea, one in front of his father and one in front of you, his eyes lingering on you with a certain kind of glint before he turned back to the counter to grab his own cup and returning to sit beside you at the table.
Isaac was, in all honesty, losing it. He didn’t even know why. You were just sitting there, wrapped up in his hoodie, nose ever so slightly pink from the cold, talking politely to his father. It was nothing out of the ordinary but he was finding it hard to think about anything other than how his hoodie would look splayed on the floor of his bedroom.
He wasn’t very good at hiding it either, you could feel it as clear as day. Teenage boy hormones mixing with teenage werewolf hormones were causing havoc and it’d be a lie to say it wasn’t having an affect on you.
Trying to return your attention to whatever Mr.Lahey was babbling about you clearing your throat and took a sip of your tea, keeping your expression neutral as Isaac’s hand slipped to your knee under the table. His attempt to pull you into his mess of hormones was obviously successful as you found yourself ready to yell out in frustration when his hand stayed put on your knee for a solid twenty minutes before his father finally rose from the table.
“I’m going to check out the situation at the cemetery, you’re welcome to stay tonight, it’s pretty dangerous out there these days.” Mr. Lahey offered and you smiled innocently at him as he stood in the doorway, “I think I’ll take you up on that. Thank you.” The older man gave you a nod but said no more before walking out the front door.
“What the hell are you doing?” You finally burst when the front door clicked shut, whipping around to face Isaac.
“What?” He asked as if his hand didn’t start sliding further up your leg the second his father left the room.
You groaned, “Don’t ‘what?’ me when you’re about four centimetres from having your hand between my thighs!”
“Sorry.” He immediately retracted his hand, eyes wide as he realised how close his hand was to reaching the top of your thigh, “I, um, I didn’t mean to- I mean, I did mean to but i won’t do it again if you don’t want me to-“
“Isaac.” You cut him off, lip pulled between your teeth, “I want you to.” You declared and he let out a heavy sigh full of relief, “Thank God.” He muttered before he was pulling you up off the chair and right against his chest.
His lips immediately found yours and his hands were gripping your waist like there was no tomorrow.
At this point, the butterflies in your stomach were going absolutely bat shit feral when his lips began to trail past your lips, to your chin, then to the curve of your jaw. It was when his hand slipped deftly up your side to settle against your jaw that you realised just how much you’d been wanting this.
Isaac’s lips fell further to your neck and you couldn’t stop the hum of approval that escaped your mouth at the sensation of his soft lips sucking and licking at your pulse. “It this okay?” He asked in a mutter, the dainty and nervous nature of his voice contrasting greatly with the confidence and ferocity of his actions.
Your hands tugged gently at his hair to get him to meet you clouded eyes, when he looked at you you were sure that his eyes had flashed yellow, his breathing was getting heavy and you had an inkling that his lips on your neck was the most exciting thing that was going to happen between you tonight.
“It’s more than okay.” You told him with a dopey smile, letting out a laugh when he dived back into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin through a smile.
Despite your words your hands moved to his chest to push him away slightly, “But…” you started as Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “I think we should stop, and maybe revisit this after the full moon passes.”
After taking in a steadying breath Isaac nodded in agreement, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” His hand slipped into yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours, he spent a moment just looking at your linked hands with a fond smile and the look of achievement on his face. It was easy to tell, with the help of your empathic powers, that Isaac was proud of himself.
You yourself couldn’t quite pinpoint why he was feeling so prideful in the moment, but he knew. To be truthful he wasn’t just proud of himself, he was downright ecstatic. He’d been nothing more than your best friend since you were both eleven, and now, six years later he finally crossed the threshold from being your best friend to being your- well actually now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what he is to you now.
A few hours passed before Isaac worked up the courage to ask the question that had formed in his mind after his make out session with you earlier.
The pair of you had since gotten comfortable in his bed, which was nothing particularly new. You laid on your side with your back to the bedroom door, Isaac was behind you, his chin tucked in between your shoulder and your neck with his arms around your torso holding you close to him.
“Can I ask you something?” His voice broke through the silence and you responded with a tired hum, adjusting his arm so you could snuggle closer and tried your best to stop yourself from falling asleep while he murmured softly in your ear.
“What are we?” He kept his eyes trained on the dark room ahead of him, his hand grabbing yours as you readjusted his arm and he absentmindedly began playing with your fingers, the action being successful in calming his nerves.
“What do you want us to be?” You asked sleepily in response, a small smile forming on your face as you heard his heartbeat speeding up.
Isaac let out a nervous breath against your neck and you held back a shudder at the feeling, “I was kind of thinking that all the kissing would make us a couple.” Letting out another sleepy hum, if it was even physically possible, you snuggled deeper into his hold. You sluggishly turned your head to place a light kiss against his cheek, “Then we’re a couple.”
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itseivwhore · 4 years
Note
Hey! May I please get some headcanons for how Edward, Shay, and Arno would react to their S/O being worried about a college application and whether or not it'll be accepted? I applied on Thursday, and Im honestly so scared... thank you in advance
Heyo @prctectedlegacy (why the cazzo can't I find you in the usernames when I try to tag you???I just hope you will see these,once published) !Thank you for requesting this ;) Listen here,it's normal to feel scared/stressed/preoccupied/anxious about something so important like this,but try to think for the best,mh?For example: I cry. HAHAHAHAHAH,my dark humor and obvious sarcasm apart...for real,teake it easy buddy. But I would love to know if they'll accept you!So let me know,will you?
Also,I noticed that I became,literally from all of sudden,the CEO of comforting people with my headcanons. Like uh yes,feel free to confess your preoccupations to me: come get some you fuckers,I'm here to make you happy with my weak writing skill.
Now let's start,shall we?
~~~~~
|°Edward°| :
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He has been with you through everything,and with him,you passed and overwhelmed any kind of fear you had in the past: encouraging you when others put you down,rooting for you when others didn't believe in you,pushing you do to your best in and for everything all the time,being by your side with everything you had to face.
Edward was always here,with his strong determination and with his endless support for you.
Unless these times when he was drunk:in that case you would have found him passed out,either on the couch or on the bathroom's floor,blabbering things under his breath...but that's a negligible detail.
Getting in that college would have been a big step in your life,the one you always have wanted.But,for as much as you were excited and happy about it,needless to say that you were also,and obviously,scared.
You firstly tried to hide your preoccupation away from Edward,not wanting to ruin his costant,almost natural,'chill' nature,letting him playing his guitar in peace.
But nothing passed unseen under these deep blue eyes of his: nothing.
Finally deciding to open up your mind and sharing your thoughts with him,after he came back home from a pub where he played with his small,cheap band.
When Edward listened to you freely speaking about your worries,he gave you such a big smile and a relieved sigh.The bastard knew that something was off with the way you were behaving,but he didn't dare to touch that 'weak' spot,deciding instead to wait for you to take your time.
So there you were,sitting together outside the balcony of his apartment,in the middle of the night: you softly speaking as he carefully listened to everything,blue eyes fixed in your ones.
Comforting you in all the ways he knew,pulling and squeezing you in an endless and tight hug,not letting you go until you have calmed down.
He might haven't been a master with gentle words and philosophical speeches...so silence was all what he could give you.But,after some moments where he intensly observed you,he found his way with words:
"Why don't you go and take something to drink,mh?" as he gave you a sly wink and a lopside smirk.
"Let's drink to forget our sorrows" he exclaimed before taking a long sip from the bottle you brought him,actually managing to make you laugh.
Jokes apart,after drinking that beer,he became more serious,wrapping an arm around your waist,pulling you in his lap as he whispered to you truly and purely comforting words,genuinely soothing you down once for all.
Maybe it was his low,deep voice,speaking so firmly and decisively;or maybe it was the way he was lively convincing you that you will get in that 'goddamned college' -his own words.
Spending the other days together.
Slow/rough sex for making the stress go away.
Edward playing his guitar in the living room most of the time for you,with you sitting on the couch while you had his cat in your lap:listening to him playing something slow and nice always helped you to relax.
"You will get in that college.If you don't?That doesn't exist,darlin' "
Yes,he does have his own way with words,when he wants.
~~~~~
|°Shay°| :
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Shay was a man of few words,he was a man of action.And,most of all,he knew you way too well:so you possibly and literally can't hide anything from him.
"I have eyes and ears everywhere,little dove,remember this" he said with a serious voice once he started to talk about that almost crucial subject,but the sly smile he had on his lips just betrayed (see what I did there?I'm not sorry) his deep tone.
So you two had a long,long talk,him letting you speak freely as much as you wanted and needed,for only starting to talk and to exprime his thoughts just after you finished.
You didn't had idea of how he could have been so convincing,firm and ardent and triumphant while trying to make you reason:trying to let you understand that you WILL get accepted in that college.
Giving you a severe,yet gentle expression,telling you that you didn't had to be preoccupied of anything.
For as much as Shay was hopeful,he also was very,very stubborn and consequently he made you become a bit stubborn too: you,scared and convinced that everything was going to be a distaster;him,angry and almost desperate to change your mind,wiping off those bad thoughts you had.
He even called Haytham,one day.You heard him talking to the older man one afternoon,and you immediately found Shay in the living room,approaching you as he handed you the phone.
Needless to say that Mr Kenway said the exact same things that your boyfriend told you all the time the other days.Haytham loosing himself in a long,philosophical and almost paternal speech.
And Shay was glad when he actually managed to change your mind,even if a little,relieved when he saw you starting to see and think about things in a different way.
So,when he noticed that you were calmer,he started to spoil you.
Bringing you out for a date in such a nice restaurant,spending the whole evening together.
Sex,a lot of sex,all around the house,comfort sex to relieve you and to make you relaxed.Worshipping you all the time,always.
Giving you his four-leaf clover that he kept wrapped in an old and ruined bag,placing it in your hand,closing them around it.
"I hope it'll bring me luck" raising your almost teary eyes on his warm brown ones,him just giving you a snarky smile.
"You make your own luck"
"And if you won't get in,I will hunt these bastards down" he might have said with a light tone and a vague gesture with his hand,making you amused,but...oh he was able to do that.
~~~~~
|°Arno°| :
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Oh no...
You were convinced,more than anything,that Arno Dorian was a man who was able to read in your mind:he only needed an intense,deep stare at your eyes for finding out what was bothering you so much.
And when he finally understood what was wrong,he immediately...well.
If this man was anything,anxious was one of them.Quickly becoming anxious and preoccupied too,his thick eyebrows furrowed with worry as he sat beside you,taking your little hand in his big ones,bringing them up to his mouth,leaving a chaste kiss on the back of them.
"We can be anxious together,amour"
He tried to joke with a low voice,a bitter smile on his lips,hope starting to grow within himself as he saw the corner of your lips rising up slightly.
He had always known how much getting in that college was important for you.
The young man knew that so well:listening to you talking with passion about it,sharing with him your secrets and dreams;dreams and goals that he liked and shared a lot.
He loved seeing you so determinated and gritty about that: Arno knew that,if you wanted something,you HAD to get it,in all the ways you were capable of.And he was more than willing to help you.
But seeing all that passion,will and hope being overwhelmed by anxiety,worries and pessimism?
It was a big problem for Arno,too: he was so emphatic,and seeing you being so preoccupied just put him down.
The last thing he wanted for you was to be upset.So he tried his best to make you feel in a better mood,rising your spirit up by telling you that he truly and firmly believed in you and in your skills.
He truly did.Nothing fascinated Arno more than seeing how your eyes light up with that ardent glimpse whenever you talked about the things you were passionate about.
Cheering you up by preparing a hot bath,candles lit up all around the dark room as steam raised from the bathtub.
Cuddling together way more than before.Lots,tons of cuddles for you.
Distracting you by walking hand in hand in the city,in the middle of the night,enjoying the quiet and paceful atmosphere as you both silently talked about anything.
Forehead kisses. Oui.
Him reading out loud some of his favourite poems,his hands wandering in your ones,playing with your fingers as he continued to read for you,calming you down a lot.
"A croissant?"
That man makes love,he doesn't just fuck.
Arno was totally and utterly devoted towards you: a romantic man if you wish,a man who always gave you endless support and a man who would give his heart and soul to see,and make,you happy.
~~~~~
Ta daaa. Hope you liked them buddy ;) <3
(Also,a little note: I just hope I got their personality right?Especially with Shay,since I rarely have written something about him ;/)
Addio.
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loyally-unfaithful · 4 years
Text
—; but “sentimental boy” is my nom de plume
word count: 1916
pairing: connor/gn!reader
genre: slight fluff; hurt no comfort
summary: it has been a year after the android revolution. humans and android alike settled down, an olive branch was offered as a sign of reconciliation. with newfound peace came along newfound love, and many open roads to choose from. this was no different for the rk800—connor. surprisingly or unsurprisingly, he decided to continue working at the dpd, this time as a bonafide detective. but he has also accepted the thrilling uncertainty of life that deviancy has brought; the same strings that brought his lover in his life.the same ones he hated and cursed, the same fates who ripped it all away.
a/n: everytime i convince myself i came out of my dbh hyperfixation i just look at connor and i become lovesick again.
gosh i know i should be finishing my other fic or work on the prologue script for my vn, but,,,,,,, i just had a sudden hankering for connor angst,,,,
written during a sleep deprivation induced moment of epiphany,,,,, (purple prose cuz im extra af uwu)
I’ve never written angst before so i’d love to hear your thoughts on it
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maybe if you asked him one year ago whether he’d consider returning someone’s feelings, romantic feelings, he’d reply to you with a placid smile and a polite « i’m sorry, i wasn’t programmed to reciprocate romantic interest. ». he remembered that he’d sneer at them internally. now thinking about it, long before he questioned his obedience towards her, he already showed signs of deviancy.
you did what you were designed to do.
memories from his past would still torment him erratically, doubts would resurface on particularly dark days. but you were the light that cut through that haze. this wasn’t a “fake deviancy”. it couldn’t have been. not when he is holding your body so close to his, warmth radiating off of each other, two heartbeats—similar, but different—thrumming together. all the softly whispered and adoringly announced « i love you »’s; all the quick and coveted pecks and all the feverish and passionate kisses. no, he was alive, he was sure of it—alive and absolutely enamoured by you. all semblance of doubt ebbed away when you entered his life.
whenever he’s around you, he feels more alive: you make him feel everything, all the little precious things. tenderness and adoration when he shares tranquil mornings with you. he feels more alive when he’s with you, all the little habits and routines too endearing: the sweet post-it notes scattered over your shared flat; scribbled upon it are encouraging words or sweet nothings. conflicting work schedules meant that moments spent together were scarce, but that made them even more valuable and coveted. captivation, was another emotion that he felt around you. your mannerism, your dreams and interests, your physical attributes and quality of voice. logically speaking, you were just another human, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. you’d live and then one day, you’d die. as if you never really existed. but he wasn’t being logical. how could he be? when you were right there in front of him? you made him irrational, and he found that new aspect in life thrilling. confusing at first, but exciting. he was eternally grateful that you let him experience all these beautiful emotions with you. he was grateful that you allowed him in your short journey that you called life.
he was happy, absolutely content, with his shared life with you. you were both in perfect places in your respective lives: you both had a stable job, loving family backing you up, and a fulfilling love life. what seemed to be a mismatched couple at first turned to be 2 pieces of the same puzzle finally finding their place. life for the both of you couldn’t be better.
but along with the many exquisite moment that your romantic endeavours brought you, the android didn’t only taste the sweet delicacies of life; no matter how idyllic a moment may be, there were times when he had to taste the astringent and sour desserts life offered.
anger. that was an emotion that he felt. but that’s not accurate, no… it was frustration and shock and betrayal, all the unsavoury feelings in the world. perhaps it was due to his inexperience, maybe his lack of exposure to these negative sentiments, that caused him to snap the way he did. to hurt you the way he did. but it happened and there was no turning back the clock.
no matter how much he begged and cried for it.
he was proud that you got the job offer in canada, he really was. and he, like any other caring boyfriend would, offered to accompany you there, an offer which you gladly accepted. that was the plan. but plans were difficult to follow. crime waits for no man, working for the law meant that connor must always be available for duty. no excuses, he was an android. but connor wasn’t just a simple android detective, no, he had a much more important role: he was the link, the messenger, between jericho and the police force. he was the crucial communication between the two forces. so when jericho contacted him about threats of anti-android attacks, he had to make an appearance at their base. the meeting coincided with the day you were meant to travel to canada. it was a simple trip really. it only took a few hours by train, stay in canada for 2 days (it was the weekend), and then return back to detroit, probably arriving in the late afternoons to their home.
but you were looking forwards to traveling with your wonderful partner after « [we] spent so much time apart ». the day he told you the urgent change of plans, connor was tired, overwhelmed. you were frustrated and expectant. a fight was bound to have erupted. accusatory statements, along the lines of: « you don’t actually care about me! it’s all about work and work and work! » and « i can’t believe how selfish you’re being right now! » in between shouting and yelling and frustration and anger and contempt–
you both went to bed exhausted but spiteful, still not forgiving each other. in hindsight, he felt so utterly pathetic, so unbelievably childish, for being that cruel, and uncaring. he didn’t want to be like him again. so many glares and insults were thrown at each other, tears threatened to spill, LED flashed and shone a true red, doors were slammed. he felt awful, plain and simple. you both lied in the same bed, under the same cover. so close yet so excruciatingly far apart. back facing the other’s, no one said a word.
you woke up before him. bitter and unhappy. no morning kisses, no whispered « i love you » to wake your other half. you wordlessly got yourself ready, grabbed your bag and quietly snuck out. no post it notes were left. no sweet promises or encouraging words. you could do this work trip without him. you were independent. you didn’t need a tin can to chaperone you everywhere. so you left. plain and simple. gone. since you woke up and left earlier than planned, you boarded an earlier train. how lovely and convenient. the carriages were mostly filled with androids. perhaps they were trying to immigrate to canada like the others. who knows. you paid no mind and absentmindedly scrolled through your phone, obsessively checking your messages to see if connor realised. to see if he apologised. because frankly, at that point you were tired of being mad and just wanted to spend the day in his arms. but prideful and petty as you were, you weren’t willing to apologise and admit your mistakes first.
connor roused from stasis a few moments afterward, less bitter and more regretful. he wished to right his wrongs but the normally warm presence beside him was not there. his system was slowly booting back up when his audio sensor picked up an incessant ringing from the living room. he jolted up and rushed out to pick up the ringing phone call and waited for the other side to speak up.
the room was so utterly quiet, a silence so suffocating engulfed the room, that you could hear a pin drop. the voice on the other side asked whether this was indeed your house and that he was indeed connor anderson. he swallowed dryly and answered with a soft, « yes ». running a quick check in his database, he matches the caller’s voice with a certain nathaniel edwards. first responder. he allowed his HUD to display the news. if androids could get pale, have all their blood drain from their faces, his would have certainly done so. he stood, rigid and motionless, consumed by shock and horror.
the news and the first responder’s words blended into one as he gripped the phone tighter: « this morning, at 7:48 am the train from detroit to toronto was caught in a devastating turn of events: the train soon caught in fire and exploded as it made its way over the border. it has been confirmed that there has been 0 survivors. it is unclear whether this was an unfortunate accident or the result of anti-android terrorism. »
the other person’s voice poured through the speaker but he wasn’t listening. he stared blankly in front of him. no way, he thought, it couldn’t have been… the only sign that the android was registering the other man’s input was the now constant red LED.
« sir? sir. i’m sorry to bring this— – no, this isn’t right… you must have the wrong number, he interrupted. there were probably others with your name… maybe they were mistaken... – sir that’s not possible, w— – you must have gotten the wrong house… not… it-it couldn’t have been…» but he knew how improbable it was that they got the wrong number. he was built to be logical, to believe statistics. the statistics told him you were dead. long gone. he hoped and prayed that you stayed back, didn’t get on the earlier train. the statistics told him you did.
he choked out a response, quiet and defeated. you were gone. he’d never get to see you again. « i… i’m sorry… i-i don’t understand… – we tried our best to find them sir, but… the fire was too severe… if we gain any new developm— – you didn’t save them. »
still in a daze, he must have hung up on the poor man and unceremoniously dropped the phone. its clatter the only sound in this deafening silence. the reality of it all comes crashing through and he collapsed, ugly sobs escaping him as the denial faded away to make way for the pure and unfiltered grief. he felt lost. for the first time in a long while since amanda he felt so utterly and completely lost. no more shining beacon during his dark and stormy nights. no more valued affection and coveted kisses. no more notes and no more smile to come home to.
he laughed bitterly, devoid of any humour. it was funny, just how cruel the fates were: made human life so fleeting. lachesisonly gave them such a short eternity. and when he thought you both found your missing halves, bound to another by an invisible string, atropos cuts it. a small snippet that is so easily ripped away from you. he belonged with you, he felt at peace with you. he was able to be what he struggled to be for the majority of his miserable and artificial existence. with you, he was able to be happy.
but now he’ll have to get used to not coming home to a warm embrace. he’ll have to get used to going into stasis alone, in the cold bed. he’ll have to get used to his aching heart being greeted by an empty house. every cold and lonely  nights. it’s ridiculous how human he felt because of you. and he was both thankful and spiteful for it.
sadness and bitter regret ripped through him when he remembered that he didn’t  share goodbyes before he left. he remembered how he couldn’t have apologised to you and tenderly held you. he regretted not being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him for the last time. ra9 only knows the things he’d do and the things he’d sacrifice, just to have you in his arms again.
instead he was faced with the bitter reminder that the last thing he’s ever said to you, your last memory of him, was a contemptuous and scornful « i wished i never met you ».
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valkyrieofsmut · 4 years
Text
Captive Love   19
UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)
Summary: Sweetheart enjoys flustering Papyrus, and he tries to educate her in the greatest of performers; Mettaton... Aka, share his interests with her. Also... other stuff happens.
A/N: Important stuff! So! While looking through stuff, I looked through the bookmarks to this story (on Ao3, for multiple reasons) and saw a comment in the bookmark saying that they weren't sure why she hadn't gotten her voice back, yet. This is honestly a good question. I guess it wasn't clear enough, I mean, a lot of stuff has happened. I tried to put the speech indicators to show that her voice is getting better, but then she'll yell and scream at Sans or someone on the phone (her idiot boss) and it'll get a bit worse. Also, I did a count of the days (quickly scanning through the whole file so I could be a little off) and at the beginning of the next chapter she's only been there for two weeks (13 days actually) and only been awake for 10 of them. Even if we give the benefit of the doubt and say three weeks (pretty sure that's the time frame I was aiming for about the point they had sex), she's basically gotten her voice back, its just a bit wobbly and squeaky. I dunno 'bout the rest of y'all, but last time I got sick (actually right before I started writing this story) I lost my voice for about a month and a half. I started getting it back after a month, had two weeks of the squeaky voice of a dog toy, and then a week of where it was mostly back, but still wobbly and had to clear my throat a lot because of it cutting out and squeaking. This is for informative purposes, not to be a jerk. Even though I feel like a jerk... lol God damn it! Do you know how hard I tried not to make it so he had a sock thing?! Maybe a preference or soft spot, but not an all out fetish. Like, 'ooo, yeah, those're sexy,' sure, but not, 'oh god, I'm so hard 'cause you're wearing socks!' *sigh* I fail at life... Enjoy an about double length chapter!.
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Story
Papyrus tries to be... friendly? Maybe. Is that what he's doing? Yes.
Contrary to what Sans had said, the two spent the time until Papyrus came back not having sex, but cuddling and making out. 
“SANS!” Papyrus called from downstairs, knowing too well not to go near his brother’s room unless he was interested in an accidental show. 
Sans pulled back from the kiss he was tangled in with (Y/n), glancing to the door before giving her another kiss and climbing from the bed to go down to his brother. 
(Y/n) laid back, biting her lip and smiling. 
Ok… so it hadn’t started out great, but, really, even if she left now, the sex was amazing, and she wouldn’t have a problem messaging him. Who knew about a relationship, but what they had was pretty sweet. 
A sudden realization hit her. 
What did Sans think of relationships? 
Was it something monsters did? It seemed like they avoided showing that they had feelings or emotions at every turn, and she could see how having a relationship would blow that out of the water. 
Did she want a relationship? 
Yes, sex was nice, and it was nice spending time with him, but… it was entirely different than having a relationship. Right now, they were basically almost friends, with benefits. Maybe closer to fuck buddies who liked hanging out. 
It was a strange gray area to be in. 
(Y/n) stretched and climbed from the bed, hurrying to grab some clothes and head to take a quick shower to wash the smell of sex from her. 
How long had it been since her body had felt so well used? So nicely taken care of? 
...How long had it been since she’d been a willing participant in it becoming this sore? 
She shook her head to get that thought out of her head. 
It didn’t matter, anyway, that bastard was gone, and she was here. 
She needed to enjoy her life. 
She instead focused on washing up, bemoaning that her legs had gotten so hairy and that there was no razer around here to shave. How could she have forgotten to tell Sans to get one when she sent him out for everything and the kitchen sink? 
After her shower, she went into Sans’ room and found the bag he’d brought back on the off chance that he had gotten one and she’d just missed it. 
No luck, though she did find a pair of really cute over the knee socks. They looked like they were either from a halloween display, or from a store that sold punk and goth type clothing, having a print of tiny scattered skull and crossbones, and a bit of lace and back ribbon at the top.
Well… at least they’d cover the hairs on her legs and she wouldn’t be so self conscious about them. 
She pulled on a shirt, the pants she’d originally been wearing, and did her best with her hair before she walked downstairs. 
Papyrus was making a lot of noise in the kitchen, and Sans was nowhere to be seen. 
He must have gone out for something… 
(Y/n) went to the kitchen and stopped next to Papyrus. 
He looked down at her with a suspicious glare, but she responded with a friendly grin. 
Papyrus quickly looked away with a bit of red growing over his cheeks. 
Embarrassment… that’s right; being nice flustered him. 
A mischievous grin lifted her lips. 
This was going to be fun. 
As Papyrus started trying to make the shepherd's pie again, she stood near, pre measuring things and handing them to him. 
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, HUMAN?!” He demanded, his hands going to rest on his pelvis. 
“He-ping,” she told him, then shot a huge grin. [helping]
Papyrus' sharp teeth gritted hard and he turned away with a glare. 
(Y/n) held back her laughter. 
So much fun. 
As Papyrus was starting to layer, the door opened and Sans came back in. 
“SANS! COME GET YOUR HUMAN! SHE’S UNDERFOOT!” Papyrus demanded. 
Sans entered the kitchen, seeing (Y/n) helpfully handing a bowl of mashed potatoes to his brother, whose skull was glowing across his cheekbones and nasal ridge. 
He stuffed his smokes in his pocket and strolled over to where (Y/n) was grinning at him. He gave her a devious grin back, his sharp teeth flashing at her, and let his tongue trace his golden fang suggestively. 
Sans stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling behind her ear. "c'mon, sweetheart, stop botherin' my bro an' come in th' other room wit me. i got an idea 'f how ta entertain ya." Sans chuckled at her obviously flustered form against him. “c’mon sweetheart, give ‘im th’ potatoes an’ come wit me.” 
Papyrus took the bowl of potatoes from her and made a disgruntled and disgusted noise as Sans guided (Y/n) to the other room. 
He sat her on the couch and sat next to her, pulling the remote out and putting on a show. 
(Y/n) sniffed the air, noticing a heavier cherry and vanilla smell around Sans. 
"What's that sm-ll?" She asked. 
"what smell?" Sans asked, looking over at her with a brow ridge up. 
"It's on you, like… vanilla, and cherry," she told him. 
"oh," Sans hummed, pulling out a slightly worn box to show her. "that's my smokes."
"You smoke?" She asked in surprise. 
"yeah, sometimes," he murmured, his eyelights flashing to the kitchen. 
(Y/n) mentally shrugged. Smoking was bad, but who knew if it even affected him the same way… He wasn't doing it around her, and at least the smoke smelled good. 
Over all, filed under 'not her business'. 
.
After a dinner filled with Papyrus shooting them disgusted looks from his spot across the table and telling them the 'thrilling adventures' he'd had that day, Papyrus made them stay downstairs to watch Mettaton shows. 
"boss, i don't wanna watch any mettaton stuff," Sans complained. 
"TOO BAD; I'M NOT LETTING YOU TWO WANDER OFF TO YOUR OWN DEVICES! WHO ONLY KNOWS WHAT WOULD HAPPEN THEN!" 
"heh, i know what'd happen," Sans commented, giving (Y/n) a suggestive wink. 
Papyrus gave a put upon sigh and wedged his way between them on the couch. 
"hey, bro, what're ya doin'?!" Sans complained, shuffling out of the way a bit so he didn't get sat on. 
"I DON'T WANT THE TWO OF YOU CANOODELING RIGHT NEXT TO ME!" Papyrus declared. 
"then let us go up ta my room, bro," Sans sighed, managing to hold back his irritation. "simple as that." 
"NO CANOODELING!" Papyrus declared. 
He spent a lot of the shows explaining to (Y/n) how their star, and sometimes only actor, was better than anything humans could possibly have, often spending half a segment explaining the ‘complicated and far superior’ bits. 
After enough time had apparently passed, Papyrus decided it was time to go to bed and ushered them all upstairs. 
As soon as the door closed behind them, Sans let out an irritated breath before looking up at (Y/n) and letting his sharp teeth curl into a predatory grin. 
Heat shot through (Y/n)'s belly, her heart rate going up. 
"c'mere, sweetheart," Sans beckoned her to the bed as he reached it himself. "i have a feelin' yer tongue's been away from mine fer too long…" 
(Y/n) felt a bit of embarrassment mixing with the excitement that was filling her, heat starting to build already. 
"aw, c'mon, sweetness," Sans drew his voice out temptingly, the low tones somehow reminding her already wettening core what he'd done to it earlier and making it clench. "no need ta be so shy noww." 
(Y/n) slowly stepped toward the bed, fluttering filling her belly. 
“there ya go,” Sans praised as she got closer. “that’s it, sweetheart, c’mon closer,” he told her as he knelt on the bed and moved to the middle, sitting on his knees. “wait, this’s gonna be easier if ya take those pants off b’fore ya get up here,” he commented. 
A wave of trepidation fell over her, and she thought through what was happening, trying to be completely sure she was ok with what was about to happen. 
One round of sex and a day of making out, you could… maybe still be friends. Any more than that… who knew… 
“what’s wrong, sweetheart?” Sans asked, his expression turning more toward question than the suggestive thing it had been. 
(Y/n) paused, then reached for her pants and started taking them off. 
“mmm, there ya go, sweetheart,” Sans commented as she started crawling toward him on the bed, his expression slipping back to that one of suggestive intent. 
She made her way up, then paused in front of him, biting her lip as she reached under her shirt and worked her bra off without taking off her shirt. Her attention was drawn back to Sans at the lustful noise he made as she threw it to the floor behind her. 
“i didn’t know ya knew magic, sweetheart,” Sans chuckled, leaning forward and grabbing her by the hips to draw her closer to him. His hands slid down her thighs, moving around them, then up the backs to take her panties and start dragging them down her thighs. 
As she lifted one knee so he could get them off, he caught sight of the dark fabric on her calf and twisted a little around her to get a better look. 
Yes, there were little skull and crossbones distributed every so often over the black of the fabric, a bit of lace nearly hidden behind her knee. 
“fuck,” Sans murmured softly, his phalanges lingering over the soft fabric as he helped her off with her panties. 
(Y/n) looked at him in question, following his gaze, her leg registering where he was touching. 
Oh. 
Oh!
Ooooooooh… 
He’d bought those… maybe not even purposely for her… 
Here she was wearing them, and if the tent in his shorts was anything to go by, he wholeheartedly approved. 
Sans tried to stop the drool from dripping between his teeth as his fingers took in the feel of her soft leg inside of the socks, tracing the muscles that filled out the fabric and looking sexier than he had imagined. 
He hadn’t even dared to hope that she’d willingly wear them, let alone put them on herself, yet here she was, calves covered in the socks, looking sexy enough that if she pressed her knees together, her legs would look good enough to- he’d have to hold on to the backs of her thighs so that he could brace himself to thrust, keeping her feet together with his knees and her knees together with his hands- 
Sans blinked his sockets to clear his fantasy, gripping the backs of her thighs and pulling her up into his lap, pausing only to get his shorts out of the way. Then he was pulling her up over him, her knees on the outsides of his hips, angling and positioning them both so that as he eased her to sit down, she felt the head of his cock brushing against her. 
(Y/n) bit her lip, her body giving all the signals that it was interested and ready, and one of his hands slipped between them to guide his cock, brushing against her wet folds until he found her opening. 
The hand on her hip gripped harder as he encouraged her down, sliding into her, and his face turned into a grimace of pleasure. 
“nnn, fuck, ya feel jus’ ‘s good ‘s last time…” He told her through gasped breaths. “fuuuuck, sweetheart… ya a’ways this hot an’ wet, or is this jus’ fer me?” He groaned as she sank down, her thighs finally meeting where his shorts had crumpled around his femurs. 
“Sans,” she whispered, her hands clenching around the back of his shirt, grabbing at his ribs and making him growl needily. 
One of his hands buried itself in her hair, tangling and fisting in it to point her face to his, his teeth pressing against her lips and parting them to let his tongue meet hers, and she moaned, her hips following the motions he was guiding her through to get a bit of movement going. 
It was a bit awkward due to the angle, and only served to make them both want more. 
Sans' hand moved from her hip to give a rough grope to her ass, holding her against him as he turned and laid over top of her. 
His pelvis stayed against her as he knelt up, his hands running down her calves, the roughness of his phalanges catching a little at her socks. 
He gave a squeeze to her calves, then lifted them up over his shoulders, nuzzling them, his hands stroking over them. 
His hands slid down to her thighs, gripping them tightly before starting to move his pelvis. 
He rocked gently for a moment, but soon leaned forward, pushing her knees closer to her chest as he did, and it seemed to open her up to him more, making her able to feel every inch of him as he moved inside her. 
Sans held her thighs tight against his ribs, keeping her calves on his shoulders and nuzzling against them as he thrust. They felt so soft under his phalanges, against his cheekbone-
His eyelights stayed on her as he panted for breath, thrusting into her rhythmically. He could feel her hands grabbing and twisting around his shorts, trying to pull him into her as her hips gave little bucks trying to meet his. 
fuck... 
She was so cute- the socks were adorable, and they made her look even cuter… 
His tongue reached out and traced over her calf, making him grunt as she clenched around him. “oh, sweetheart,” he groaned softly, nipping at her calf. 
A noise escaped (Y/n), but she tried to swallow it, trying to keep quiet as he sped up. 
Sans gripped her thighs tightly, pushing into her faster and faster, his pointed teeth digging into her sock covered calf, his tongue brushing over it. 
(Y/n) gasped, her mouth dropped open as she tried to stay quiet, her body bouncing as he pushed into her harder. 
“fuck, sweetheart- ya squeezin’ ‘round me like that- ya like what ‘m doin’ ta ya?” He asked, watching her face. 
(Y/n) nodded, her hand tightening in the fabric of his shorts. 
“yeah?”
She nodded again as she gasped for air, trying desperately not to make noise to piss off the other skeleton in the house, starting to get light headed at how much oxygen she was taking in. 
“nnn, fuck- y’re so sweet, sweetheart,” he told her, gulping in air as he tightened his hands, holding her steady as he pounded into her. 
She was going to have bruises there, though it couldn’t seem to matter to her mind. He was hitting every perfect place inside her- it felt so good- he felt so perfect inside her- every spot lighting up with pleasure- so amazing- 
And then he bit her calf again, his tongue trailing over the sock that made her seem even more adorable and sweet. 
“Ungh-” (Y/n) squeaked, holding back the other noises as she came, her body tightening and pulsing around Sans as she softly moaned his name. 
“uuuuuuugh, sweetheart- tha’s right, come fer me- nnn- ya feel s’good- fuck- fuckfuckfuck-!” He growled out as he fell over the edge and followed her into bliss, his jaw clenched tight to keep quiet. He didn’t need his brother bursting in and ruining the mood. 
As they came down, Sans leaned forward and kissed her, his tongue and teeth moving with her mouth, small noises leaving them both. 
Sans chuckled after a moment, his hands squeezing her ass with her legs now wrapped around him. 
“What’s so funny?” She asked, watching his face. 
“nothin’, i jus’ feel bad fer humans ’s all. any guy who doesn’t get ta feel ‘is girl keep pullin’ at ‘im like this, really. can’t ‘magine. jus’ feels so good. c’mere, sweetness,” he coaxed, though he was the one who did all the work of wrapping his arms around her and rolling so that she was again on top of him before he gave a content sigh. 
“Their loss,” (Y/n) murmured back with a chuckle of her own. 
They started drifting off, but (Y/n) would swear she heard Sans say, “‘m glad i found ya… some a th’ best luck in my life…”
 A/N: Uh... In case it wasn't clear... Yes, Sans was thinking of pressing Sweetheart's calves together and fucking the space between near her knees... um... while she was wearing the socks... I- I don't know... I was going to have him just think about licking or nipping, but, in the moment that's what came out instead... Sans does what he wants when I write, apparently... Sans: damn straight i do, doll!
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fluffshisuga · 4 years
Text
Birthday Cuddles (Sugawara x reader )
Warnings; none, it's fluff
It's Sugawara Koushi's birthday 🥺 i love him so much
This is almost 2k words im sorry
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When you got up that morning, your alarm was playing a sweet song. You looked at your phone, reading the time. You had an hour to get ready for school, and you slowly got out of bed to get dressed. Afterwards, you made your way to your kitchen. You grabbed a small breakfast and looked at your phone. There was a lot to do today. Not only did you have club activities this afternoon, but you had a whole evening planned as well. Today was Suga's birthday, your sweet boyfriend. It was a Friday as well, signaling the end of the school week. You had planned to take him to the spicy noodle shop down the road after school, where he could eat all the spicy noodles he could ask for. You also wanted to spend the night with him, watching movies and shared a blanket. After thinking about all your plans for the day, you sent a text to Suga. "Good Morning, my love! I hope you slept well! Also, happy birthday, I cant wait to show you what ive been planning for today for you!" After sending the text, you grabbed your bag and headed to the school.
The air was clear and the sun was making its way past the few scattered clouds in the sky. Your skirt flowed in the breeze as you walked, a small smile on your face. You looked down at your phone as you walked. Sugawara hadn't replied to your message yet, and you slightly shook your head. You remember that he stayed up late the night before, reading some of his notes for an upcoming test. You told him not to stress over it, but he brushed your concern off explaining "Its not that much, ill go to bed soon. You should sleep though, i love you." You wanted him to be fully rested for today so he can finish volleyball practice early and start your evening. Looking back now, it was a silly thought. You knew he was capable, but he just kept trying. It was admirable for sure, but you started to worry about his sleep schedule. Would he be too tired to spend his birthday with you? You didn't want to think about it and shook the thought away. You placed your phone back into your bag and walked slightly faster to the school. You wanted to get as much done before the end of the day.
You had been sitting on one of the benches in the courtyard, waiting for classes to start. You looked around as other students walked by, talking amongst each other. You had waved to Hinata and Kageyama, and laughed as they started to race to their classroom, and smiled at Yamaguchi and Tsukishima as they walked by as well. Daichi and Asahi had eventually gone by, and stayed around to talk with you for a few minutes, before motioning for you to go with them so you weren't late for class. You hesitated for a moment, but looking around, you decided to go with them. Suga was late to school today, but he never usually was. Maybe hes staying home today, you thought, he could do whatever he wanted on his day after all. You made your way through the halls with your fellow classmates, squeezing your way around crowds of students to get to your own classroom. While moving past a group, you felt a tug on your hand, and eventually your hand was taken into someone else's. Looking around, your eyes met with Suga's, his bright smile beaming down at you.
"Suga!" you exclaimed, jumping up to put your arms around his neck. You laughed together as he hugged you, placing a small kiss to your head. He took your hand and walked with you to catch up with Asahi and Daichi, and made your way to class together.
You hung out with Suga in the classes you shared, and ate lunch with him on the roof. When you parted for your individual clubs, you told him that you'll meet him at the gym doors after practice, and that he shouldn't stress himself out too much during practice. He laughed softly and ruffled your hair, and kissed your cheek before walking to the gym. You started walking to your own clubroom, thinking about you plans for the evening. Suga didn't seem too tired, so you had hoped he'd be willing to still go to the restaurant with you and let you stay with him for the night. Your thoughts occupied you all the way to the room, and you stepped in. After about an hour, you left. You made your way through the hallways and stopped by a drink machine. You bought your favorite drink and a drink for Suga, and continued to walk down the hall. Suga still had an hour left of practice, giving you time to get your thoughts together and cool off form your club activities. You sat outside on the steps of the gym, taking small sips of your drink while scrolling through your phone. It wouldn't be long until Sugawara would be finished.
When volleyball ended, you stepped aside to let the boys walk home, waving to each of them and smiling. Hinata had been bouncing around the whole time, talking with Nishinoya about random things, mainly sounds that described their moves. You could hear Tsukishima tell Hinata to shut up, and that no one could understand him, but the two short boys kept making noises as they left. You shook your head with a smile on your face, finding each of the boys amusing in their own way. You looked into the gym a few times, looking for your boyfriend to come out. After what felt like ten minutes, you walked into the gym. Looking around, you made your way to the locker room, peering in through the door. Sugawara was sitting on the bench, rummaging through his bag. You realized that he still wasn't fully dressed yet, and that he was missing a shirt. You didn't understand why it would take him so long just to put a shirt on, but you walked in quietly and stood behind him. Your face became pink as you studied his back, muscle placed perfectly everywhere. You stared at his back until he quickly put a shirt on, startling you.
"Took you long enough," you joked, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him from the back. He shrieked and jumped, causing you both to fall off the bench and onto the floor. You landed on top of Suga, the both of you laughing as you laid there. You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you closer, and he hugged you while you laid on him. After a few moments, you got off of him and helped him up. Your cheeks held a small blush when he took your hand and kept it as he put the rest of his stuff into his bag. Without a single glance, Sugawara lead you out of the lockers and outside of the gym, where your bag had been sitting. You bent down to pick it up and dug his drink out, handing it to him and smiling. He took the drink and sipped it, smiling when the flavors mixed in his mouth. Without saying anything, you pulled his hand and started walking away from the school.
You didn't tell him where the two of you were going. He kept making guesses as to where you were going and what the plans were, but you never replied to them. "You'll see!" You teased, earning a squeeze to your hand. The restaurant wasn't far away, and it took you no time to make it there. You made your way to a small table, and sat down. The waiter came around and took your drink orders, and eventually you were looking at the menu together. Suga's favorite food was Super Spicy Mapo Tofu, and you had checked this restaurant to see if they had it, and they did. You saw his eyes light up when he realized this, and his smile grew wider as he looked up at you. When your drinks came around, you ordered your food and talked while you waited. He told you about this dream he had the other night, going into small details about seeing someone similar to you with other people. You listened intently, taking in the details. He was about to tell you the name of the person that looked like you when the waiter returned with your food.
After you finished eating, Sugawara grabbed you hand and you started walking down the sidewalk, talking about small things. You tried to bring up the dream he had the other night, but he didn't seem to remember it anymore, and shrugged it off. He started walking into the direction of your home when you tugged his hand again. "Lets go to your house! I wanna cuddle," you whined, placing your other hand onto his. He chuckled and started walking with you to his house.
When you got there, you placed your shoes next to the door and ran to the couch. You heard Suga laugh as he calmly walked over and sat with you, watching as you dug into his movies. He watched your hair and how it moved whenever you shook your head, and how your eyes would grow and shrink depending on which movie you were looking at. He watched as your delicate fingers grazed the movies and how your finger would stop on one, only to continue to move. It took you five minutes to choose a movie, and you hopped onto the couch with Suga and snuggled into him. He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you close to him as you watched the movie together. Halfway through the movie, your eyes began to get heavy, and the sound of your boyfriend breathing began to lull you to sleep. Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep on Sugawara, small snores emitting from your mouth. He looked down and smiled, pulling you closer.
When the movie ended, Sugawara woke you up. You rubbed your eyes lazily, looking around. "Did i miss something?" You yawned, looking up with a small smile on your lips. He shook his head and turned off the tv. Without hesitation he picked you up and walked to his room, gently placing you onto his bed and pulling the blankets over you. He then got in next to you and slipped under the covers. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest. He placed another kiss to your head and whispered "I love you," before closing his eyes. You tilted your head up and kissed his chin, whispering "i love you too, happy birthday my love."
Thank you for reading! It's a bit cheesy today, but i used all my brain cells making the fic for Iwaizumi's birthday, so i hope you'll forgive me
Semi dedicated to @bb-noya because mom loves him🥺 and honestly who wouldn't
Super Spicy Mapo Tofu!
A super spicy takeout meal.
Roughly translates to pockmarked grandma’s tofu
Recipe found here!
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drkcnry67 · 4 years
Text
oops sorry wrong boy toy
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title: oops sorry wrong boy toy... (drabble)
pairing: lucifer!sam x reader
rating: pg-13
fluff sq: in vino veritas
h&H sq: lucifer!sam
share the love: fever dream
tags: illusions, vivid dreams, dreams that feel and look so real that you believe they are but get awoken by something else in reality that shakes you out of the dream. other than that nothing really else maybe the warning of some potion usage
created for @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @spnfluffbingo​ @heavenandhellbingo​
share the love list    fluff list    h&H list
this was reality wasnt it, you were under the impression that nothing had gone wrong, when infact everything was wrong. this seemed so real it was uncanny. 
you, your boyfriend Sam and his brother Dean had gone to stop Lucifer from rising, to stop the apocalypse from happening. in fact that is exactly what you all thought had happened. 
this day happened to be the 2 month anniversary of you all stopping the apocalypse, the boys were out on a hunt you on the other hand were soaking in a nice hot bath.
till something or someone pushed you down and ran some more scaldng hot water. it was a few hours later when the boys returned to find water all over the floor and you passed out unconcious and salding hot in the water. 
Sam was freaking out, Dean was trying to clean everything up. but both of them looked round there was no signs of forced entry, no signs of hex bags or anything. then they saw that you were making something. they knew better than to touch it. 
--------------------------
meanwhile, you were unaware of what was happening on the outside, you were focused on what you were witnessing on the inside. 
Sam: babe, why dont we go find something fun to do... i mean you know like a normal couple...
YN: sam when have we ever been normal... we hunt monsters for christ sake. besides i think we can have lots of fun right here. besides i feel like we just had date night...
Sam: are you having de ja vu. cause if you are then whats the issue...
You had to second guess yourself, something seemed a little off, Sam didnt seem like himself. he kept speaking about normal, normal wasnt what either of you were accustomed too. 
also sam never ever called you babe, like never... he always called you angel... he never ever called you babe. something was seriously wrong thats when you watched the scenery shift around you and Sam, things got really really hot. 
you started sweating feeling like you were gonna pass out which you did waking up still sweting a few moments later except now hanging above a pit of boiling hot lava. 
Sam or what looked like sam standing above you..
YN: sam what are you doing?
lucifer!sam: nope wrong boy guess again?
you took no time to think on this everything suddenly made sense.
YN: lucifer...
lucifer!sam: in the flesh, i cannot tell you how amazing it is to be out of that cage. there is a certain sense of accomplishment i feel right now, i had hoped you wouldnt figure it out for a while longer but something inside me wanted to have a bit of fun. so hows this for fun.
YN: this is a dream.. this has to be a dream...
--------------------
on the outside, Dean, sam and Cas were all hovering over your still scalding hot to the touch body. Sam was "frantic".
But Dean started to notice Sam mumbling to himself. He pulled Cas outside with him to "help get something out of the impala".
Cas: what's wrong Dean we should be finding out what happened to YN.
Dean: that's not sammy
Cas: what are you talking about?
Dean: that's not my brother in there he keeps mumbling to himself the Sam I know wouldn't doesn't do that.
Cas: I have an idea to wake YN. I need to be alone in the room when I do this cause it's not gonna be pretty. Something is causing her body to go into fever shock. That's why she is too hot to touch. The fever needs to break which means I need to go in and pull her from whatever is holding her in. you just need to keep “sam” distracted and out of the room while i save YN. 
Dean: we will go get some alcohol.
Cas and dean walk back inside the hotel room, “sam” is kneeling beside your still form as Cas and Dean approach, Cas goes to place a hand over your forehead, using his angelic grace to scan your mind. 
Cas: i know how to save Yn but i need to be alone for a few moments. like no one else can be in the room. its not gonna be an easy thing to watch nor will you guys be able to withstand watching this, humans can go blind from seeing this process. by the time you guys come back inside YN should be awake.
“sam” got up and looked at your body. none of the 3 boys except maybe castiel knowing what was occuring inside your head. 
-------------
speaking of which, you are still suspended over a boiling hot pit of lava, lucifer!sam is ranting about his grand plan to start the apocalypse, to deal with the world itself once the apocalypse is in completion. 
Lucifer!sam: are you still listening?
YN: yes unfortunately... but i thought we were in my head i thought we would be able to do what i wanted. 
Lucifer!sam: that unfortunately is not true, we are not gonna get into too much detail. now pop quiz beginning with what did you and the 3 idiots use to open the door to the cage?
YN: the rings of the 4 horsemen.
Lucifer!sam: very good. now who else is supposed to be apart of the apocalypse. 
YN: michael but he wants dean for his vessal. dean is not keen on that idea at all. now i have a question for you: how did you get my boyfriend to say yes to you using his body?
lucifer!sam: easy i threatened to take away the one thing that he loves the most, you... i threatened you... i was really surprised cause i knew you were pregnant the second i saw you, that is why i threatened you, thats why he said yes. 
you suddenly went into a state of shock... you were completely clueless. wait did he just say Pregnant?????? you were not sure you trusted your voice or anything. 
YN: what did you say? did you just say im...
Lucifer!sam: pregnant yes... Sam is right here inside my brain in a cage, he is screaming for you to hear him... i might be willing to let  him speak to you one last time, but after that im taking him and we are going to bring on the apocalypse and no one can stop us. 
YN: what's that light?
-------------
On the outside Dean and "Sam" went out to grab some disposable cups and alcohol. While Cas stayed behind to wake you up.
Whatever Cas was doing seemed to be working. He took one look at your current situation and could only reach in and pull you out as fast as possible.
Once he did that you were back in your own body. You sat straight up and woke up. You hugged Cas.
Cas: are you okay?
YN: I'm fine kind of. Umm where are the guys?
Cas: getting some alcohol.
You had sat up a bit before continuing to speak.
YN: can you tell me if you hear anything irragular in my belly... Like anything at all.
Cas places one hand on your belly, light begins to flow from it, you look at your belly then at Cas then back at your belly
Cas: is it Sam's?
Yn: yes but I don't want to tell him yet. That's not Sam... Not our Sam anyway. i have the perfect thing to use to find the truth but we all 4 need to be here for it. 
Cas: they should be back soon, anything i can do to help in the mean time?
you and cas go to where your workstation is set up and you get to work finishing the potion that you were working on. you also get into a silk gown and house coat while cas mixes something for you. 
Cas: the boys are just approaching the door. we will see if this works. what was your purpose for making this in the first place?
YN: to find the truth if we ever needed too. but i am sure thats not our sam. i am also sure that if im correct and thats not our sam then what sam had told me to do will need to be done. in the event that something happens to Sam in anyway shape or form, Dean is to become more than just a best friend to me. in that event i am to live my life hunting and killing every disgusting monster out there. but with a baby on the way i dont know if i can do that. 
cas was about to reply when the boys walked in. both of them entered the room fully before they saw you. beforre they could speak you ushered for them to sit down...
YN: before you both speak yes im awake yes im fine. but there is something i want my lovely boyfriend to test. i have made something that in the future i am hoping will prove useful in interrogating. will you test it honey bun?
Sam: of course babe!
that set something off in cas and dean... for they both knew that sam never ever ever called you babe. but you brought the small vile to “sam” who drank it. after a few seconds you decided to test if it was working.
YN: im now gonna ask a series of questions but only Sam is allowed to answer. 
both dean and cas were in agreement.
YN: lets begin. what is the numericle date of our anniversary?
Sam: 04.19.2006
YN: how did we meet? 
Sam: we saved you from a vampire den after that we were hooked with eachother. 
YN: you said something to me the day we stopped the apocalypse what did you say?
Sam: you are the most amazing woman i have ever known and i now know for sure that i want to spend the rest of my life with you however long it may be. 
you now had to ask one final question and you knew that this one would have to be envoked by the incantation that goes with the potion. 
YN: what is your name? in vino veritas!
the second you said that he kinda twitched and thats when he spoke. 
Lucifer!sam: lucifer the ruler of hell the son of god that has been locked up in a cage for the last however long cause some of my people in hell decided i wasnt fit to rule the dark dominions. 
dean held his hand towards you while keeping a hand held trained on his brother’s form. well at least what looked like his brother but was not his brother. 
Dean: but how i thought Sammy wasnt gonna say yes to you, you dick bag. plus how did you get out of the cage... there wasnt anything to release you. 
Lucifer!sam: actually you did, when you used those rings it opened an exit from the cage. you were mis informed on what you did and what were actually doing. that was meant to set me free... so when sam and i started arguing he agreed only cause i threatened to do harm to YN and her baby. oh well time to go start the apocalypse.
that was what set the moood in the room, your shock was real and yet something else no one expected was how protective Dean and cas suddenly became of you. this lasted several moments. 
lucifer or sam or whoever that was had disappeared. he was laughing when he did. that became your new life. 
Dean: i guess we all have a new mission or 2. one of them is to save sammy whatever it takes. the other is to protect YN and my brothers kid. 
once you hit 3 months along you were only allowed to go on salt & burns as well as assist the occassional possession and haunting. 
~but that is another story for another time~
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mothmansfriend · 5 years
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when i’m happy oh god i’m happy
TW: alcohol abuse, non-graphic sexual content, unhealthy coping mechanisms, self harm (in many forms), drug use, couchsurfing, mentions of delusions and paranoia, otherwise reckless behaviour
Note: this takes place in @illogicallyinclined’s hockey au and is a Prequel this is supposed to represent what Remus’s manic episodes look like everyone is different, but im using a mix of my own experiences with bipolar i and some friends who were willing to talk about theirs, then changing it to fit Remus’s existing Absolutely Feral personality, Jared and Payton are OC’s and teammates of Remus, the three of them are known for wrecking havoc at all times because none of them possess a braincell.
The art studio was empty, filled only by the assorted music of Remus’s sculpting playlist on the bluetooth speaker he brought in, and Remus himself. His hands glide through the wet clay and he basks in the slimy feeling between his fingers. Remus’s hair is held back by a small headband and he is wearing a tank top and jogging pants already covered in various mediums he has used through the day. He does not know where the energy to finish every project for this semester came from but he isn’t about to object.
If you were to look around this studio, there is a high contrast painting of a tentacle creature that is unsettling in an almost unidentifiable way, half of a self-portrait which uses resin teeth as the main element, as well as his current project of a large cup shaped like a decapitated head. In short, while Remus believes these are his best pieces, the chances of the university permitting them to be displayed are very low.
Remus gets frustrated that the music didn’t seem to be filling his inspiration in the way he hoped he changes the song revealing it to be approximately 4am, and no texts received since he sent D a picture if the teeth pile around 10pm.
“Can you go wake Remus up and ask if he wants any breakfast, he really shouldn’t sleep in this late, even if it is Saturday” D asks from the stove while Roman grabs his carton of milk from the fridge and doesn’t bother grabbing a cup.
D grimaces at him as he chugs back the milk, once again thankful that they have separate ones (even if that is at fault of Remus deciding to mix apple juice with milk in the carton without alerting anyone else in the household). “He actually headed out like, real early this morning, I spoke to him when I got up for a shower at like six. He said he’d be back today though?” Roman replied ignoring D’s look.
“Well, that’s even weirder. I’ll make extras so he can eat when he gets back, it's already eleven.”
“Sounds good,” Roman noticing D’s almost done slides a few plates next to him and accepts D’s soft ‘thanks’.
Suddenly they hear someone miss the keyhole three times before getting it and entering. Unsurprisingly, it’s Remus inappropriately dressed for a casual outing, surprisingly he seems to be holding several bags full of merchandise. “Helloo roommates! Look what I bought!” Remus shouts, slamming the door with his foot and bringing his bags to the couch.
“Are those... cups?” D asks turning off the stovetop to curiously check out Remus’s merch load.
“Hell yeah they are! I figured since you-” He pokes at D, “Took away all our glass cups after me and Roman went to that last party, I would take it upon myself to replace them. Look!” Remus proudly pulls the ugliest Jar Jar Binks cup out of one of the bags.
Roman visibly recoils as his brother parades the worst cup he’s ever seen around their apartment. D rolls his eyes but collects the cup and hesitantly places it into the dishwasher. “Thank you, Remus, these cups are horrid but they’re functional, which, I guess is good enough. Though, how much did these cost?”
“No idea, probably around sixty bucks total though, maybe. I went to three different thrift stores. Look at this one!” Remus holds up a vaguely terrifying cup that seems like it may have once resembled Spongebob Squarepants to Roman.
“That’s… Great, Remus, thanks” Roman says taking the offered item.
The three make it to practice 20 minutes early because Roman likes to prove he’s dedicated and a good captain. Coach Thomas and Joan greet them and Thomas talks to Roman briefly as Joan finishes setting things up. D and Remus do some stretches as others begin to show up, D comments on Remus being shaky and Remus hops around quickly explaining that he just woke up with a lot of energy for some reason.
Coach Thomas reminds Remus to take his time during practices speeding through everything doesn’t work if he keeps messing up before he even makes it halfway through.
D is going to kill Remus tomorrow morning. The repetitive sound of the bedframe slamming against their shared wall, and Remus wailing like a cat in heat at 1am is not something he wants to deal with right now. It’s a Tuesday night and D knows Remus has a class at 11am, one that D will not let him skip because he decided getting laid was more important. How does Remus even get a man to willingly enter that nightmare of a room? D rummages through his bedside table for ear plugs and regrets giving Roman the far room so easily.
“Jesus- Hello? Do you know what time it is?” The tired voice answers the phone after the third time of going to voicemail.
“Of course I don’t, Jared, I’m not a fucking nerd! I just thought I might extend my offer of filling the fountain in the middle of campus with bubble bath and a swim to you and Payton! D already said if I woke him up he would cut my dick off and feed it to his snake,” Remus audibly pouted at the end of his sentence.
Despite it being three am, it didn’t take a lot for Jared to wake up Payton and agree to meet him just off campus to run to the 24/7 convenience store for soap for the fountain. Remus leads the group in talking a mile a minute about something that Jared and Payton actually missed out on entirely. They try to contribute but realize Remus doesn’t notice when they have their own conversation anyways. They listen to him vaguely flit through topic after topic and get lost and confused in his own sentences, and once the soap is collected, they head to the large fountain in the middle of campus.
The fifth bottle of soap has been discarded and the fountain is sufficiently bubbly by the time the three hockey players strip to their boxers and begin their bath. There are attempted drownings, bubble beards, and the fountain change being thrown around.
At some point Remus stops talking for a second, observing the lithium bulbs through the fountain streams and bubbles floating across the courtyard. For a moment, he thinks he’s never been this happy in his life, these last few days have been the best days of his life. He lets Jared and Payton know this and like stare at him for a moment before teasing him about going soft and a few “I love you, bro” “Dude, you mean so much to me” and such were exchanged. They leave moments before campus security’s due to do their rounds in the early morning and laugh when about an hour later they receive a campus-wide notification to avoid the courtyard for repairs.
Remus spends most of practice being more annoying than usual. He gets a bit more of a stern talking to than he has in a while, in response says that he’ll try to do better to prepare for the game this weekend.
He did not succeed and got an even sterner talking to by Coach Thomas and Joan, and then by Roman separately.
Remus has a brief moment of clarity regarding his spending habits from the last week and a half in the middle of his current project. His solution is instead of buying the club size container of hot sauce, he makes a trip to the Taco Bell off campus. After dropping off the rest of his goods at the apartment, it was pretty late in the evening and he was dressed in nothing but neon green basketball shorts, slides, and a pretty badly stained grey tank top. Thankfully, Florida weather permitted this, though the looks he had been receiving all day disagreed. It likely did not help that if prompted, Remus wasn’t 100% on the last time that he slept, but if he had to guess it was two or three days ago, but that was probably a maximum of five hours. Surprisingly, he had never felt so good in his life. He’s also pretty sure he’s said that a lot this week.
He leaves Taco Bell with a small meal bag full of hot sauce at no cost.
D doesn’t ask any questions when he uses the bathroom in the early morning and is met with the sight of Remus in the bathtub. He is covered in a large variety of substances. The floor is covered in Taco Bell hot sauce wrappers, there’s a box full of water balloons of various colours and sizes. Remus waves with his available hand before he resumes filling the current water balloon with what may be a bulk container of banana lube. D pisses, not bothering to ask Remus to leave and just pulls the shower curtain over a little before washing his hands and deciding to figure it out tomorrow.
The next day, D woke up around 10am to a few texts saying some prick is throwing weird water balloons at first years off this academic building on campus. D didn’t think much about it until he was leaving his 12:30 lecture walking past splatters of mayo, egg, egg shells, hot sauce, and more, all separately. While observing the damage he found Remus asleep on some grass outside said academic building and had to call Logan for help to get him home. The two are used to this by now and D reminds himself to tell Remus to clear his ‘great ideas’ with someone containing a braincell.
Remus spends a good majority of his day listening to one song in the living room of the shared apartment. He was there when D left for classes, he was there when Roman left a little later in the day, failing to go to his own classes at all that day. The second D returns for lunch Remus is trying to explain a hidden meaning in the song, D brushes it off and reminds Remus, that to pass his classes he has to at least go.
This is Remus’s third night out in an area of town he really doesn’t know. He went home yesterday for early practice before coming back out. He knows it didn’t go well.
In attempts to make himself feel better, he blew a guy who’s name he already forgot but was hot as hell, he lost count of the shots he’s done, but at least there’s no practice tomorrow. He doesn’t have to worry about when he goes home, doesn’t have to worry about Roman or D and their weird concerned looks. He’s doing great! Why are they concerned, they just don’t get it.
At 2 am everyone gets kicked out of the club. Remus walks six blocks with his new friends with the promise of couch space to crash on and additional alcohol.
It’s suddenly 4:47 am and Remus is the only one awake and all the booze is gone. He is sitting under lithium streetlights smoking a cigarette on the porch of a strangers house with the humid Florida wind enables him to sit comfortably without a jacket. There is a moment, with sirens in the distance that Remus lets his eyes go out of focus. For the first time in who knows how long, he feels present. There is cracked cement under his feet, a dog barking a few houses down, and he wonders why he’s even here. The hidden Prince twin, here, in a city he has only been to once for a tournament, in a stranger’s house, drunk off his ass, his phone dead. He takes time to wonder, is this fun to him? It has to be right? Why did he just leave without telling anyone? Spending nights on the streets, or finding someone to go home with just so he didn’t have to find somewhere else to sleep. Is this who he is now?
He doesn’t know if he can answer that. Remus shakes himself before putting out his cigarette on his arm and deciding it doesn’t matter.
He still doesn’t sleep that night, but plugs in his phone and decides he needs to go home soon.
This is a different club than the previous night, someone sold Remus a few pills earlier and he figured why not? He feels better than ever. He lets the man he’s making out with know that and he lets out a kind of raspy laugh that Remus thinks is the hottest thing. He lets the other man know that too before sticking his tongue down his throat.
Remus is in the park yelling. It is almost 6pm, he pauses for a moment, completely forgetting what he was yelling about. He realizes that he is pretty drunk. Remus would normally like to say he only drinks with an excuse, but he doesn’t remember why he’s drunk, or how he got to the park. This isn’t near campus, he doesn’t recognize this park at all. He just stops yelling and googles the next bus to take him home.
Upon arriving home and greeting D, Remus falls asleep in his room for almost 12 hours to make up for the missing sleep from the last four days. When he is woken up for food and offered tylenol for his hangover, he tries to tell them he doesn’t have one. They don’t believe him, but he takes the food. Remus makes a joke recalling how the other day all he had eaten was some stale croutons he found in a pantry and half a bottle of Fireball he found in the fridge nearby. The joke did not land, but he was too busy laughing about it to notice.
The three eat their Sunday lunch with small amounts of banter and D switching between who he agrees with based on who’s statement didn’t sound like it came from a six year old. As they clean up, Remus starts excitedly talking about something that’s topic changed around four times in one sentence. Roman feigns interest but got lost and doesn’t care enough; D listens and has to ask Remus to repeat things slower every few minutes.
Several times throughout the night, D hears Remus loudly leave his room to check the front door. In the early morning D doesn’t hear Remus return to his room, but faintly hears netflix turn on in the living room.
In the morning, Remus seems wary of the door but does not say anything.
One day while messing around in the kitchen Remus is struck with the need to just go. The urge is so strong that the more he stands still in the kitchen the more his body just begins to tremble with barely contained energy. He doesn’t quite know where he’s going yet, but as he grabs his wallet, double checking he has his bus pass and ID, a jacket, his phone, and his keys. Without telling anyone, he walks to the main exchange near campus where he hops on the first bus that arrives. The bus isn’t particularly busy, and it makes it easier for him as he settles into the back of the bus bopping to his music, but not having the focus to listen to a song all the way through. He hits his hands softly on the very 90’s looking patterned seats to the beat of the song, watching out the windows with both legs bouncing. He rides this bus to the end of the line and catches the next bus to arrive at that bus exchange that takes him into a new smaller city. The sun is beginning to set and he finds a pub to grab some food and a few drinks at.
An hour and a half and four drinks later Remus is fighting some asshole in the pub and they both get kicked out. He wanders these smaller streets buzzed and poking at forming bruises while he smokes a cigarette. He walks by a convenience store and two homeless men outside ask him for a cigarette, he shares and spends a solid amount of time socializing with them and gets some booze for his troubles. They eventually part ways when one of them come out from the bathroom with a pack of stolen cookies. The store attendant chases them away and Remus finds himself wandering down empty streets again. Eventually, Remus decides to sleep for a few hours curled up in a stairwell, he doesn’t quite sleep, but does relax. Again, in the sounds of small city life, yellowed flickering light bulbs, and humid wind, Remus wonders why he’s out here.
The flashing neon lights and bass heavy music resonate through Remus’s bones like electricity giving him a never ending feedback loop of energy. Just before the club closes Remus sweet-talks a kind of nerdy looking guy into taking him home, while he’s mostly just hoping to not sleep outside tonight, getting laid wont hurt either.
Sneaking out of someone’s house before they wake up isn’t something Remus is necessarily proud of, but he doesn’t want to risk them doing something cheesy like make him breakfast. Sorry sir, Remus is a Manic Pixie Nightmare Boy, do not catch feelings, do not use for your own character development. He laughs to himself a little walking down the morning rush streets.
After waking up in bed with a man he doesn’t remember meeting the night before is a little jarring, but this is not the first time. It makes him wonder briefly if something is wrong with him. Remus is tired. Exhausted with himself and getting a little tired of this much fun. Instead of finding a diner for breakfast he catches a bus home and asks Logan if they can hang out tomorrow. If anyone will force him to go home, go to practice, sleep and not give him a choice to study or not without expecting him to explain himself. It will be everyone’s favourite Large Nerd. Remus doesn’t know what’s happening or why he feels like this, but he needs to go home and stop this for a little bit.Virgil, D, and Logan will help him get things a little back on track.
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How would the Papas/Copia deal with a s/o who was possessed? I don’t mean some lower class demon, I mean something like legion...
i read a lot of grimoires for this one baby im ready to go. took some demons, put my own spin on things to hopefully twist your heart in the way you hoped for. i always went way overboard. i have that Too Much Gene.
TW: death of a family member (Papa II only)
Papa I: He would be first to know that his s/o is possessed. sure, they all recognize the signs, but it only actually occurs in the eldest mind that maybe this is something a little larger than what they had originally thought. And he’s terrified. You see, they never taught the Papas how to exercise a demon from anyone, never mind the body of their lover. His s/o is possessed by our darling Surgat. Though it’s true that he can open every lock, this comes at a price - and he never comes without being asked. The s/o had to invoke this subjection, coffin nails, chants and all - they felt lost, and hopeless, and needed answers as to what they could do. they had a lock around the part of their brain that would allow them to continue their life, and they needed it opened. The problem though, is getting him to leave once he’s been summoned. They have seen the light, the lock is gone, but they remain under the control of Him entirely. Papa I is horrified when he finds out just what his lover had done to themselves, and refuses to see them or be around them until the exorcism has been done. Sure, he always believed, but seeing that sort of thing in real life? Watching the one he loves seize and fit and speak in tongues and pray to the devil? that’s a whole different story.
Papa II: One night Papa II studied too late in the office at home. One night he read every book on demons he could find because his thirst for knowledge couldnt be quenched by even the clergy library. one night he left a book open on his desk when he went to work. One morning, his grieving lover found that book. When you are in the harshest grips of your grief, your brain does some awful things. sometimes its so bad your brain just stops taking stock of everything thats happening around you and you live your life on mute for a while. sometimes grief can make you completely forget summoning whatever you could possibly find in your lover’s book to bring back to you what you lost.  Frulthiel visits the s/o in the night, promising to bring back their lost sister. sometimes grief can make you accept a deal to get what you want no matter the terms. when II finds out just what his s/o is done, he feels it’s all his fault. he shouldn’t have left the books open. he shouldn’t have even had books like that in the house around someone who is in such a depression. someone willing to do anything to fix the ache. As the very old story “the monkey’s paw” eludes, when you bring someone back from the dead, they do not look like they did when they were alive. the demon never had an intention of restoring the life of it’s inhibitors sibling, merely it’s body into a state that may stand and move. it’s up to II to save his lover from not only seeing the monstrous thing that they’d created, but also to save them from the demon that still hides in their bones, and courses through their veins. He keeps it together, but when all his said and done and his love is returned to their regular human self, he breaks. a crack so deep he is sure that he will never be able to fill it with love or power or money or alcohol. that type of hurt doesn’t go away.
Papa III: Sure, the eldest’s s/o was seeking knowledge and strength, and the middle child’s s/o was seeking solace, but the youngest brother’s love seeks something much, much worse: him. He spends long hours in the clergy when he’s working. He spends long months on the road when he’s touring. Of course he misses his lover, but he knows he’ll be home in only a few short weeks - they cannot wait that long. the constant missing of the only person that’s ever felt like home to them is beginning to eat away at them. one night, after a bottle of straight absinthe, they start to do some digging through whatever books they can find. they think, maybe a silly spell will bring him home to me.Maybe a silly spell will bring me to him. it will never work, they say. Hicpacth unfortunately had other plans for the pair. When the s/o is possessed by this demon, that brings you to anyone you choose no matter how near or far, he is relentless. at first, III likes having his s/o around all the time. it’s nice. and then its starts to get annoying. he can never get any alone time. he cant even go to the bathroom without his s/o crying for hours about missing him - what’s gotten into them? better who, he asks. it takes him a very long time to figure out something is wrong - at first he tries to tell them he needs space, it doesn’t work. he tries to break up with them, it doesn’t work. nothing will phase them. all the need is be near him - to be loved by him. It is a very long time of him trying to get away from the person he once loved before he decides to try something. once the demon is out of his poor lovers body, they have no clue what happened or how long it’s been since they were possessed, but III isn’t sure he can go back to the way things were. he isn’t sure if he could ever love them again after going so long tormented and tortured by their obsession over him.
Cardinal Copia: hindsight, for the Cardnal, may have saved the life of his s/o. It may have kept their mind intact. They are the only one who was possessed or subjected without invoking some type of curse first. this human was taken out of the kindness of the very heart of Asag - a demon that lacks very much kindness. They were also the only one who was fully present and conscious during the possession. It start as headaches, just minor really and barely enough to take an advil for. And then they grew worse, and more frequent. They couldn’t leave the house without a bottle of pain killers in their bag. The cardinal urged them to seek medical care but they assured him it would pass and nothing was really wrong. When the headaches had progressed to debilitating migraines that lasted days at a time, they got a prescription for a heavier pain medication. medications of any kind stopped working, then. after that, headaches still persistent, the pain began to bleed into every other part of the body. the chest, arms, legs, down to their finger tips. it felt like a constant fire was burning them alive with every breath they took, unable to escape the flames no matter the medical intervention or sleeping or breathing exercises or anything. the pain would not go away. I said earlier that mental pain does incredible things to the mind. pain can rewrite the way you see things, and the way you understand things, and change what gets committed to memory - which is sometimes simply nothing. this applies to physical pain to. after so many hours and days and weeks and months spent writhing in pain, desperate for solution but unable to find solace even in sleep, you begin to wonder curious things. your mind begins to stop accepting whats happening to your body. It takes the Cardinal the longest to realize what’s happened, and though resolution takes merely a day, the scars left inside his lover are permanent. their brain doesn’t recover from that type of trauma. their brain is permanently shut off on the receiving end. The Cardinal thinks, that along with the demon, a part of his lover’s soul left too. a part that cant be recovered.
- Judith 
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