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madam-well · 2 years

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“Geez,” I sighed. This has been a lot of trouble but it will all be worth it soon. Ladies and gentlemen I’ve found the holy grail a bucket of coffee jelly, a WHOLE bucket, whole 6 ounces of rich coffeey goodness. As my long time viewers may know, I usually don't waste my time with traveling but this is a completely different matter. I cannot wait, I can almost taste it. “𝕎ℍ𝕆𝔸 𝕒 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕖 𝟞 𝕠𝕨𝕔𝕖𝕤!” I stop. D-did someone just…

“ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠?” Good grief another psychic, this one sounds young, maybe around Yuuta's age “𝕎𝕙𝕠𝕒 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕒 𝕖𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠𝕠?! 𝕎𝕆𝕎! 𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕤!!” I winced slightly from the volume “𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥’𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖? ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦? ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕕𝕚𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣? 𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦? 𝔻𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕦𝕥𝕤? 𝔸𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒 𝕤𝕡𝕪 𝕥𝕠𝕠?” Spy? Is she playing some type of game?

....Nope, don't care it's time to go home. I look for the near alleyway so I can teleport back home.

I feel a tug on my shirt “WHOA!! You have pink hair too!” I look down and see a little girl in a black dress, pink hair, and little hair clips that were suspiciously placed (control devices maybe???) “Ummm where’s your parent's kid?” I asked looking around “PA is….” She looked around, great she was lost, this is total déjà vu “NOOOO PA GAVE ME AWAY!!!” She wailed. “wha…?”

“How cruel.”

“No wonder he’s trying to abandon her look he young he is”

“How irresponsible”

“Abandoning kids is illegal right? I should call the cops”

Wait they think I’m her dad?! “Kid, look there’s no way your just-“ she loudly sobbed, I sighed and picked her up “𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕞𝕖 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥?” She sniffles “yeah” she adds. I don't want to leave PA. I don’t want to go back”.

After a quick scan of her memories, I learned a few things like little Anya here was an orphan until, not even, a day ago, and Loid, her father, is an actual spy. I won't lie I wasn’t expecting that last one.

“Are you calm now?” I feel her nod, I’ve been walking around to see if Loid is even looking for his daughter “𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕, 𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕗𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕠 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕚𝕞”. Aright Blonde, blue eyes, green suit, red tie, and a tan Fedora with a black stripe. Got it. “How are you going to find him?”

“𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙.” I put her down and take a look around “keep an eye out, okay?” She quickly nods, looking excited. I cross my eyes, I'm using Clairvoyance, to find her father faster. The last thing I want to do is to the soda jump again.

I quickly scan the city streets looking for her father. Nothing. So then I start looking in each individual store.

I hear a little gasp “𝕄-𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣! 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕖𝕪𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘” blonde hair green suit this must be him “𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥?”. She looks at me and focuses, she gasps again “𝕎𝕙𝕠𝕒!! 𝕀 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕡𝕒!” Good.

“Good,” I said, man, it felt weird to talk but it can't be helped this old lady is starting to get suspicious, I stand by my up and help her get down “let's go before he notices your gone.” She giggles and starts (very slowly) running ahead.

After walking for a few minutes I noticed an officer following us, great what now. I turn us down an alley so I can focus on her thoughts, it's also a shortcut to the store Loid is in.

Why is this little girl following this man?

Man? That's a bit of a stretch, I’m only 16 plus is the fact I’m a boy the only reason she's following us? This really is de-

I sneeze, suddenly my head felt heavier. “Bless you-” she stops and stares at me “what?” I asked. “Hey stop right there!” I turned around to look at the cop “yes officer?”.

“Uh never mind, sorry to bother you two” the cop meekly said. I can't believe I just assumed she was a guy being her hair was short. Wait What?

“Anya am I girl right now?” I asked too scared to take off my hat, she doesn't answer, and she starts giggling “Hey! Don't laugh!” I scold. Geez, what is going on today, this reminds me of I turned in Kusuo (girl version) to defend Mr. Matsuzaki. The only real difference is my hair is a bit longer which is weird.

“Anya!” crap where'd she go? She was just here “PA!” Anya ran over to Loid “Anya! What were you thinking! You can't just go running off” he all but yelled Anya quickly apologized and started tearing up just as fast.

After listening to Anya babble for a bit he looked over to me and smiled “Hi my name is Loid Folger-” he wraps his arms around Anya “-little Anya here father. Thank you for finding her what’s your name?”.

He is really trying to sell the whole father-daughter thing, well it doesn't matter the sooner this conversation ends, the soon I can go home and enjoy my coffee jelly.

“PA this is my sister Kusuo!”…. Huh? Sister? Her file said nothing about a sister. Yeah, cause she lying! 𝔸𝕟𝕪𝕒 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘?! She looks at me then clings to my leg.

“PA I want my sissy to come home with us!”

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“NO! NOOOOOOO!” Anya screeched. God really does hate me.

“I hate study time!” Anya protested, for the 7th time today, “I need to judge your academic abilities for the test.” Loid stated “but I don’t need to study for the test! I can just read everyone else’s...” minds.

“Anya what have I told you about cheating!” I cut in, I look over to Loid “what's so important about this school anyway?”. “Do you two plan to get by with pure cunning?-” he glares down at both of us, then look over at Anya “Now listen here, if you don't pass this test I'll...” Fail the mission.

I'm flattered he doesn't think I’ll fail but still, I wish he'd lay off a bit. “Whatever, I'm heading out. Kusuo watches your sister…. Please.” Then again she's the reason I wasting my summer here.

Well, one thing lead to another and Loid blocked off our only exit, but this is no problem for an all-powerful psychic. “𝔸𝕟𝕪𝕒 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜” Anya shots off the couch “where are you going? Can I go too?” “ℕ𝕠𝕡𝕖, 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕠 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕁𝕒𝕡𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕨𝕙𝕪 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟'𝕥 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖.”

“Don’t do anything stupid okay” I don't wait for a response and teleport anyway. As soon as I stand up I see my patent making out on the couch “Gross. Anyway I won't be here for a while”.

“Okay son have fun”

“Okay sweetie be safe”

I bet you're a little concerned about their nonchalant reactions but they're kinda justified you see this isn’t the first time I’ve done this, left home I mean mean, when I was 7 I thought space was “super cool” so I decided to explore it for a while. Returned home after 2 weeks, and luckily parents didn’t have the sense to report me missing.

“Alright, I’m off,” I say crouching down “wait did you just talk?-“ my dad shakes his head “-never mind that, what do we say if your friends stop by?”.

“ I really don’t care what you say, as long as it doesn’t raise any questions or make me look dumb“ I instructed my dad, he dumbly nodded while mom came around the corner with a bag.

“Here you go, Ku.” she handed a camping bag full of... Female clothes? “I noticed you were a girl for some reason so I grabbed some of my old clothes for you” she lend in and whispered “I stuffed some coffee jelly’s for you” she winked at me. I guess it's true, mothers always know “thanks mom, I'll be going”.

“Wait what about me-” I teleport back to the apartment, I look around “Anya! I'm back” I call out when I noticed Anya wasn't on the couch anymore “Welcome back!” I heard Anya call out.

I walk over to Loid’s bedroom to see a mess “good grief Anya” I sighed she nervously giggles then she stops “hey sissy, how did you disappear earlier” I’m going to ignore the fact she keeps calling sissy “I teleported”

“So you can read minds and telefart?” she said in awe I choke back a chuckle “I can do a lot of things”. I think of a list of my powers, how they work, and their drawbacks.

“.....wow” Anya muttered “d-do you think I'll have as many powers as you?!” she said excitedly.

“Honestly speaking, no.” I look over and she looked disappointed “I was born with these powers while your was created” I was telekinesis to clean up her mess/organize everything, Anya stares up in awe at the floating objects.

Once everything was back in place I used telekinesis on Anya and float her into my arms “besides these powers aren’t so good as they seem” a loud sound cuts us off Anya gasps “PA back!” she jumps off of my arms and runs towards the living room.

Geez I thought we were having a moment, wait what I saying?! Suddenly a scream rips through the air, without even thinking I ran towards to scream, I ran through the door then everything went black.

Well, a normal person would've passed out on impact but as a all-powerful psychic such as myself it felt more like a light breeze. I could fight back, but I don't really feel like it. I guess I'll just go to sleep.

And I know what your thinking "Saki are you really going to abandon Anya?!" and no I'm not, I've already place a invisible and indestructible shield on her. Trust me she'll be fine.

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“-ey. Hey! HEY!!” I hear from somewhere within the darkness. I finally open my eyes and the first thing I see is some gritty looking thugs.

“Are you two twilight’s daughters?” This big dude with a cigarette in his mouth asked, like I don’t have tape on my mouth, I ignored him and looked around for Anya.

Cigarette guy just huffs and turns back to his followers “I guess it doesn't matter. If they turn out to have value as a hostage we can use her as a shield” he turns and looks at the other thugs “We’ll force Twilight to take the photos of the minister of foreign affairs’ wig himself”.

As so that what going on here. If we're being completely honest I don't think a few pictures of the minister's wig flying off are enough to make him quit but maybe that's just me.

“Boss?” a thug with brown hair piped up “isn't it time we gave on the wig”, finally someone with some sense. Suddenly the cigarette guy pulled out the pistol and shot the brown hair guy without hesitation. I spoke too soon.

“Honest is important in politics. Wigs are no good” all this for a wig?! 𝕊𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕪 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜! 𝔸 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕕 𝕡𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕝! ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕕𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥?! “Plus the minister is secretly backing the west. That's treason.” I knew this couldn't be about a stupid wig. “Anyone who covers up for treason is committing treason too.”

Whoa. I look to Anya. A real bad guy! 𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕘𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕗 𝔸𝕟𝕪𝕒. I sigh “hey boss! Nguyen and the rest of the boys we left with at the house are back!”

Huh. he actually came to save us, I won't lie I was kinda worried for a second. I look over to Anya and see her slowly calming down.

After a minute or two, a small, group of guys came in carrying a man with a bag on his head. Of course, as the all-knowing psychic, I am it wasn’t really hard to determine that the man under the bag was not our father Loid.

“We caught a man,” one of the men said. They dropped a man dressed like Loid onto the floor. Good grief, these guys are dumb but I must admit the mask Loid made is amazing, no wonder twilight is known as a ‘living legend’.

Not to mention he’s acting skills are out of this world, I watch him wobble around pretending to be hurt “ugh... No amateur has moves like that! This guy is the real deal!” this blond guy comes up to him and places a hand on his shoulder “hey, go lay down”.

I take a glance at Anya again, she is dead eye staring at Loid. I look back at loid and watch as he slowly makes his way to the back of the group then over to us “now then, twilight-“ Loid quickly unties us both, picks Anya, grabs my hand, then starts running.

Next thing I know we running out of the building with thugs behind us.

This is a mistake.

Ouch I won't lie that one hurt, I know he is a spy and everything but I didn’t think he’d be this cold.

Taking a risk like this, even strolling into enemy territory… I'm a disgrace of a spy. A little harsh don’t you think, *sigh. “Pa? PA!” Anya suddenly wails.

Oh… right. I think I just realized why children crying makes me so mad.

Imagines of a war flood into his brain; blood, guts, destroyed buildings, abandoned tanks, bodies beneath the rubble. The things he saw- the things he lived through were enough to make me sick. After a second or two I noticed something in the in his memory, on left side of the wreckage there’s a unbroken window, in the reflection you can see the image of a blond frail-looking boy sobbing his eyes out.

Because it reminds me of my childhood. The isolation and despair from no one reaching out to me.

Suddenly the memory starts to change; (child) Loid started looking around and made eye contact with his reflection, the poor boy was covered with dirt and blood from his wounds. The boy started to cry harder.

“The powerlessness of being able to do nothing but cry”. I don’t want to watch this any more… Sometimes I really hate my powers.

I thought I’d thrown it away, but it looks like my past self has been unconsciously tagging along, huh?

No that's not important right now. Loid drags us over to the sidewalk outside of the building and places Anya down “now listen here ladies” he digs through his jacket and pulls out a notepad and a pencil.

“We’re actually a team of pro tag players-” he said while handing a piece of paper, really?! out of excuse in the book he picks that one?! “-and when we find someone with talent, we like to challenge them to a surprise match” he said with a fake accent.

“Now listen up. If you hear straight down this road-” he points to the right “-and then I turn right then keep walking, you'll find a police station. He folds up the paper and hands it to me, "when you get there you two need to give this to the officers then you win"

Ah, what a nice way to abandon someone. Whatever, if anything this works out better for me, once we get out of sight we can teleport back to my house or anywhere Anya wants to go.

When they see this, they 'll put them in a better orphanage, then I'll rework the mission. I'll figure out a way to do it that doesn't involve a kid. "Pa?" Anya starts, "Ready Set Go!" he cut her and sends us on our way.

Not fit to be a spy?

No. The mistake was endangering those children in the first place. How did I not see that?

We hear him turn around so we take to chance to look back at him. Making a world were children don't have to cry- he rips of his mask- is the whole reason I became a spy.

Oh wow.

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"Ugh he's taking forever" I sighed we've been here for about an hour waiting Loid to finish beating up the 'bad guys'. I back at Anya to see messing with a line demons ants.

"Anya leave those ants alone!" I yell while picking her up "whyyyy" Anya whines "because they're gross plus I don't want to listen to cry when they bite you"

"Anya? Kusuo?!" we look up to see Loid with the leather jacket from before over his shoulder. "PAAAAA!" Anya yells as she runs to Loid and hugs his legs.

"How did you- I mean uh what are you doing away from home" Loid asked, nice save father. I shot him a look, and he start to panic, "as for me, uh, I came here to shop but it looks like to they've went out of business."

Papa really is a liar.

I tried to bite back a laugh. Anya looks up at Loid and said, in que quote " we were playing tag with strange man" ......... I sigh and face palm. I Loid looks at me confused but just nodded.

"I see..... was that fun?" he asked still looking confused Anya hugged his leg a little harder "it was a little scary". "I want to go home! with you and sissy!".

"Are you- are you sure about that?'" he asked looking shocked, 'if you leave again I'll cry" Anya said using his previous thoughts against him, he looks at me. I nod. As much as I want to go home, I have some time to kill so I'll stay until this mission is over. Something tells me It'll be exciting.

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I'm gonna stop here. Here ya go @fruity-fruition I tried my best I hope everyone enjoyed reading this post if anyone want another part just ask!!! I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope everyone has a good day, Bye!~

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dragonmuse · 2 years

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I’m trying to get an image in my head what do you Alma and Charlie look like as adults? (Like in the last fanfic)

Ooooh good question. Okay, so first things first, I think I may have mentioned ages ago, but I have a very hard time with faces and likely have mild face blindness. So I've never been very attracted to using actors/models as references even for OCs. That being said, I have a loose idea of what they both look like:

Alma - She's about 5' 7'' and built very much like Mary. Her hair is the same color as Mary's too, and she keeps it a few inches past shoulder length, often braided back. She, as ever, has Stede's nose and eye shape as well as eye color. Her lips are a little fuller, but they also default into the slight down. Her skin tone is also Stede's. Her aesthetic remains heavily goth though most of the time it's more 'casual grad school goth' with oversized black knit sweaters, black pants and her ever-present boots. The eyeliner is always a sharp wing, even if she's not wearing any other makeup. Her ears are pierced twice in each lobe and a cartilage piercing in the left. There's a tattoo on her left angle of a quarter note. Ingrid has a matching oen.

Charlie- He's 6' 2'' and thanks to training as well as nature, he's very broad at the shoulder, then trim through the waist, enough muscle for utility, but not to weigh him down (here's the Australian men's Olympic team to give you an idea). His hair is the same blond as Stede's, but he keeps it buzzed to only a half inch or so. His eyes are also brown. His jawline is closer to Mary's and his chin is a little sharper, but otherwise he looks very much like a young Stede. He's clean-shaven (all over, he just got to like it even in the off-season). When he's not in his element, he doesn't move particularly gracefully. Given where he currently lives, he's generally in athletic shorts, a grey v-neck t-shirt and tennis shoes. If it's cold, he'll add a hoodie. If it's freezing, he will wear sweatpants. He probably owns jeans somewhere. Maybe. If he's cruising, he will wear a deeper v-neck and shorter shorts which usually gets him the desired results.

And for fun:

Felix- He's 6' 1'', but most people think he's taller than Charlie because he stands straighter and is built more solidly. He has thick dark curly hair that he doesn't bother taming much, so it's often a bit frizzy and fly away. His skin is a warm chestnut shading darker during the season when he's outside more. He keeps a general scruff going, mostly because he hates shaving every day and Charlie likes a little beard burn. He has full lips, a prominent nose and thick eyebrows. His eyes are a deep brown and set fairly close together. His most worn outfit is brightly striped collared shirts and khakis.

#leda house and the kraken verse

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angry-geese · 3 years

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Homesick Remedy

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Warnings: nsfw. Smut and fluff. Tender sex, hickeys/marking, oral (fem recieving), unprotected sex, creampie, breeding mention, praise kink (sort of/interpretable). afab reader.

Notes: Gojo returns home from a job and spends some quality time with the reader. domestic fluff turned smut

You're not quite sure when you hear the door open.

Gojo usually comes home late. It's the nature of his job. Being one of the world's best Jujutsu sorcerers doesn't exactly follow a 9-5 schedule. Curses don't care if you're sleeping. Most nights you would stay up to greet him. Your schedule was nearly as hectic as his, you dealt with this often. If he found you dozing off on the couch he'd press a kiss to your forehead and carry you to bed.

You had gone on a job the day prior. It was nothing of note; something you could easily handle on your own. A curse was proving to be difficult for lower level sorcerers so they sent you in. Mistakenly you let your guard down—only for a moment—and it cost you. The curse landed a blow on you. Nothing fatal. While your injuries weren't the most visible, they sure don't feel that way. You found yourself unwilling to tell Gojo, though. You could take care of yourself, but he always fussed over you. If he noticed something was off this morning, he made no mention of it.

Gojo's hand briefly touches your head, messing up your hair.

"You're home early." You say, reaching your arms out for him, making grabbing motions with your hands.

He leans down to give you a quick kiss before hauling you into his arms. Instinctively you bury your face in his chest, inhaling the woody scent of his cologne. As much as it smells nice, he puts far too much on. The scent tends to linger long after he's left the room. Something metallic hangs onto it. Blood. Although he doesn't appear injured.

Dramatically he flops back onto the couch. You shift so you're sitting in his lap, facing him. Dark circles line the skin under his eyes. It makes you wonder when he's last slept. His hair is a mess. Idly you brush it out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear.

"Missed me?" This dumb looking grin spreads across his face.

"You? Never."

He visibly deflates. Of course you missed him, but his ego could survive a hit or two. There are very few things you enjoyed more than bullying your boyfriend. All in good fun. He's rarely bothered by it. Unfortunately you love him.

You often wonder how you got so lucky.

When the two of you first met, you couldn't stand each other. It was so long ago that it's hard to believe now. There was an obvious rivalry in school. He was always the best at what he did. Though he was a few years older, and moments you ran into him were rare, so it was often shrugged off. If you found something you thought you'd be good at, he was always better. Growing up, he was annoying like that. For someone like you, it made you furious. You had a petty, competitive streak. You had to be good at everything you did. You had to be one of the best sorcerers. You had to be the best in your class.

And you were, but he was always better.

You're a very talented sorcerer yourself, but it's hard not to feel inadequate standing next to him. Most people could say the same thing. Half of the Jujutsu world either wanted him, or wanted to be him. He always fit in so well.

It wasn't until well into adulthood that your paths crossed for long enough to talk. The two of you were more similar than you ever thought. You gave him a chance. Reluctantly so, but you did. Your work only made the two of you grow closer.

He shifts so you're in a more comfortable position in his arms, head resting against his chest. The sudden movement makes you wince. His demeanor completely changes. Gojo handles you like you're fragile; like you'll shatter in his grasp.

It pisses you off just a little bit.

"Is everything alright?" He asks.

He scans you over for injuries. The feeling of his eyes on your body makes you want to shrink back and hide.

"I may have had my ass handed to me on that last job." You let out a nervous sounding laugh, burying your face in his jacket. You're not quite sure why you're embarrassed. It was a mistake, nothing more. But he never makes them.

You're not sure if that makes it worse or better. So you don't question it.

You lean back in to deepen the kiss. It's the first distraction you can think of. It seems to work. The strong muscle of his tongue pushes past your lips, exploring your mouth. He tastes sweet. The scent of his cologne is heady, and makes your head swim.

"Do you want to?" He asks.

He's almost certain of the answer, but it never hurts to check.

You nod—maybe a bit too quick—but you nod. Despite the way your body aches, you want him.

"We're doing this in bed then." He says.

Gojo doesn't give you any time to respond before he's hauling you up into his arms bridal style, heading straight for your shared bedroom. The way he tosses your body onto the bed is a bit rough. It sends a sharp pain up through your ribs. The bed dips under his weight as he kneels in front of you. As you try to sit up, he pins you. His hands hold your wrists to the headboard, his knees straddling you.

Gojo coaxes your shirt over your head, humming in amusement when he realizes you don't have a bra on underneath. He palms at your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers, working them into stiff peaks. He leans forward to take one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. It feels nice, but you can't help the throbbing ache it sends right to your cunt. Your hands tangle in his hair, gently guiding him where you want him most. It hardly takes him any time to turn you into a moaning, babbling mess.

You'll have a collar of hickeys in the morning.

Part of you hates how quickly he can turn you to putty in his hands. He knows all the ways that make you melt.

You palm at the growing tent in his pants. He's half hard, his cock leaking against his thigh. He's been gone so long, maybe you've missed him more than you thought. He's certainly missed you. He always finds himself wanting to come home to you at the end of the day.

You lift your hips enough so he can slide your shorts—along with your panties—completely off. Then Gojo's shirt. They're tossed in a heap to your side, landing by your discarded clothes. You're always surprised at how muscular he is without his jacket. It hides a lot more than you thought, you suppose. His eyes scan over you, and the instinct there is to hide. He notices you shying away and stops for a moment.

"Do you still want to?"

Again, you nod. You'd have stopped him if you really didn't.

He pulls you in for a kiss—just a quick peck this time—then plants one on the tip of your nose. Your cheeks turn bright red at that. His head dips down to press a kiss to your sternum; the valley between your breasts. He trails kisses down your bare stomach. Somewhere during that time his hands find your breasts, kneading the plush flesh. He's always admired the curves of your body. His was nice, but it was all angles and hard muscle.

His cock is around average in size—maybe a bit bigger—about six or so inches. It's pretty, like a pornstar's, and he always keeps it well groomed. He's not very intimidating. The head is a ruddy color, with a prominent vein running right to it. Although he's clean shaven, the hairs at the base of his cock are the same white as his head. That question bothered you for years before you finally got an answer. It doesn't take a whole lot of prep to take him, but he always likes working his partners up. Anything you could deal, he'd dish back out double. Never anything you can't handle, but Gojo can be a bit of an ass.

He presses a kiss to your thigh, sucking a dark mark where you won't be able to see. The action sends an ache of need right to your core. Heat pools low in your stomach, slowly building in intensity. Gojo's arms hook around your thighs, pulling you towards him. Your legs rest just over his shoulders. The aching need in your cunt makes it hard to think straight. All you want is for him to touch you. He licks a long stripe up your slit. His own eyes are clouded with need, his cheeks flushed, lips bitten pink. His strong hands knead the soft flesh of your thighs, his breath hot against your skin. He licks a stripe from your bellybutton to your mound. You jump as he presses kitten licks to your clit, working the bundle of nerves in achingly slow motions. You taste sweet, he notes.

Your hands bury in his hair, guiding him to where you need him most. This time he relents, leaning in to lap at your clit in soft, steady motions. One of his fingers presses against your entrance. They're long, but thin, and dexterous. After a moment, he adds a second, pressing up against your g-spot. It's another moment before he starts pumping them. The sounds of your slick sex and moans fill the room. He sucks onto the sensitive bundle of nerves so desperately that it feels like it'll pop off. He swirls his tongue around it in a way that makes your toes curl and your fingers bury in the sheets. You get louder the closer you get to your own orgasm. He takes note of this. It's only a moment later when he pulls away. The lower half of his face glistens in the dim light. He makes a show of licking his fingers, groaning at the taste. Gojo leans back in for a kiss. Not much more than a quick peck. You can taste yourself on him. He finds your shocked and disappointed look endearing.

"Please,"

A smug look spreads across his face. "Please what?"

"Fuck me,"

He cages you in his arms, pinning your wrists against the bed. You might be able to wriggle out of his grasp if you really tried; not that you want to. He can't help but admire the mess between your thighs.

You take his cock into your hands, giving him a few quick pumps. He's painfully hard. Precum beads at the head, which has turned an angry shade of red. Gojo wastes no time in lining himself up. His slick cock head traces around your entrance before pushing in. He takes his time, slowly bottoming out in you. The stretch stings slightly, but isn't necessarily painful. With all the prep, he slides right in. He groans as you take him right to the hilt.

As he starts to thrust, your scramble for purchase against his chest. Your arms wrap around his neck, your fingers lacing together behind his head. His hair tickles your neck. He coos words of praise into your ear, telling you how good you take him, how good you feel around him. You clench around him, pulling him back in. Gojo sucks dark marks into your neck, only adding to the collar of hickeys. He takes pride in seeing you all marked up. Some possessive part of him loves seeing the marks he leaves behind.

Gojo's hips roll against yours in lazy thrusts. To him, there's no prettier sight than seeing your form writhe under him. His hands grab your legs propping them up on his shoulders. The new angle allows him to hit deeper than before. He picks up in pace, snapping his hips against yours in short, quick motions.

His free hand traces circles around your clit. The heat in your stomach soon grows scorching in nature. You're close. He notices the way your breathing grows shaky, how your moans get louder and more desperate sounding.

When you cum, you cum hard. Your legs clamp around his hips, pulling him back in. The way your pussy spasms around him is enough to send him over the edge. It almost catches him off guard—he didn't expect to cum so soon—he bites into his tongue hard to stop the moan that escapes him. His cum paints your walls white, filling you up more than ever before. As he pulls out, he does so slowly to not spill any of his cum.

He pulls you so your back is flush to his chest. Your skin is sticky with sweat, and maybe a bit of saliva. The sound of his steady breathing threatens to lull you to sleep. He smooths a hand over your hair, brushing it out of your eyes. Gojo looks at you with such adoration that it makes affection swell in your chest. Moments like these are rare; falling asleep next to him. Life rarely seems to allow it. It's always nice when you can take a break together.

"I missed you." You finally say.

"I know." He plants a kiss on your forehead. "I missed you too."

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #not sfw #jjk smut #gojo x reader #afab reader #fluff

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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years

Note

So I’m obsessed with the idea of cow shigaraki don’t ask me why lmaoo anyways shigaraki was always an asshole to everyone ( everyone tries to take him seriously but his cute little ears makes it hard) shigaraki hasn’t gotten out of his room for days and everyone kind of got worried but forced the reader to check it since shigaraki was a littel bit decent to them ( everyone knows shigaraki has a crush on the reader but of course the reader is lowkey dumb to notice) to there surprise the reader finds shigaraki humping his pillow while sniffing the readers sweater or panties that he “ borrowed” and moaning readers name, it turns out our little cow shiggy here has his heat not to mention little drops of milk are coming out of his pink nipples, shigaraki notices the reader and just starts crying and whining and begging the reader ti help him out because he’s in so much pain and can’t get off ( the reader does have a heart and helps him out but it’s not gonna be that easy since the reader does want to tease him a bit but soon gives him what he wants) a fluff ending because why not

This lives rent free honestly loll anyways add any kinks u want sweetheart

COMMISSIONS

BRO I JUST REALIZED WE REACHED OVER 100 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH

PLEASE SOMEONE MAKE FAN ART FOR THIS

If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q

InteractiveFics

Master List

Warnings: Hand job, blow job, thigh fucking, normal fucking, mommy kink, this time Shiggy is making milk for y/n, pillow humping, heat, boobies lol, bad words, he has cow ears and tail because that’s fucking adorable, he cums like... a lot.

youtube

I know what everyone is thinking, and I pinky promise that Shigaraki does not moo in this, so don't worry. I did read a fic like this and everyone turned it into like a “cursed fanfic” because the mooing weirded them out, but the only thing that really bothered me is that it was non-con (non-consensual [rape]). I will never ever ever EVER EVER EVER write non-con. Never.

Ok, I am on a fucking roll with the mommy kink, so here we go 😌

Anon your ideas make me write for literal hours cause I get so excited and I write for “20 minutes” that turns into four hours that turns into getting half of your requests done in less than a week. If anyone reading this can draw, I demand art of cow Shigaraki. This reminds me of Shigamothie (my guilty pleasure)

However, the way he looks in my head isn't drawn out, and um, I can’t draw 😃

I FOUND SOME UHIUHINIJMIOANIONSJIND

“Y/n, it's been days. Go check on him, ” Dabi said.

“Why don't you go do it?” you asked.

“Because he’ll fucking dust me, ” he responded.

“And? He would dust me too, ” you said.

“Y/n, first of all, that's impossible because of your quirk, ” Dabi said, “and second, everyone knows Shiggy has a crush on you. Well, everyone but you,”

“He does not, ” you scoffed.

“I'll bet everyone dinner for the next three nights that he does. But you have to go up there and ask him, ” Spinner said.

“Fuck, ” you muttered, “fine! Fine, I'll go, ”

You trudged up the stairs, sighing when you got to his room.

You knocked but there was no response.

“Risking my job so those assholes can eat, ” you muttered.

To your dismay the door was unlocked and you walked in.

“Hey, this is a dumb question, but-” you cut off, “Shigaraki are-are you ok?”

He was curled up on the bed in fetal position, naked with a pillow between his legs, humping it desperately. He didn't seem to notice you yet.

‘Is that my sweater?’ you thought.

You put a hand oh his shoulder, “Shigaraki? Are you ok?” you asked again.

He shook his head, moaning, “need you y/n, ” he gasped, “need you, please. It hurts. It hurts so bad please y/n, ”

You bit your lip, scratching behind his ears as he moaned desperately.

“I can't. I-I can't get myself off, ” he sobbed, “it doesn't w-work. I need you y/n I need to be inside of you I-”

He let out a strangled yelp as white liquid shot out of both his cock and his erect pink nipples. You knew he had cow ears and a tail, but you never thought he’d actually make milk. You knelt by the bed and sucked experimentally, enjoying the taste of his warm milk.

“Mmm, ” you hummed, drinking more.

“Y-y/n don't. It feels too good when you do that I can't-” he cried, spilling another load onto the poor pillow.

You giggled, “i didn't know you went into heat. It's kinda cute, ” you said, brushing sweaty matted hair out of his face.

He hid his face in your sweater again, just for you to pull him to face you once more.

“Mommy, ” he whispered, “I need you. Please, mommy, ”

You kissed his forehead, “mommy, huh? Y’know you're really not that scary, Shiggy. The ears and tail don't help either, ”

He whined, blushing, “please mommy?”

He looked up at you with puppy dog eyes that you couldn't resist.

You sighed, “fine. But only if you answer my question, ”

He nodded, “anything, mommy. I’ll do anything, ”

You took a deep breath before asking, “do you have a crush on me? ”

“Wh-what? ” he stuttered before blowing another load with a groan.

“I asked you if you have a crush on me,” you repeated.

He couldn't hide it from you. He couldn't even hide it from himself.

“Yes, ” he groaned, “yes, I have a fucking crush on you. Please fuck me y/n, ”

“Say please again, baby. I love it when you beg,” you said, kissing him.

He froze as you pressed your lips to his. Shigaraki looked up at you with wide eyes. That was his first kiss, and he got to share it with you.

“Please, ” he whispered, “please fuck me y/n, ”

You ran your hand up and down the back of his thigh, stopping to squeeze his butt gently. You took his nipple in your mouth again, drinking more of his milk before kissing him again. This time he returned your affection. You took away the pillow, and he started whining, practically crying at the lack of stimulation. He was already a mess. There was really no need for teasing, but you couldn't help yourself. You tapped the tip of his cock with your pointer finger, watching as he moaned and tried to buck into it.

“So sensitive, ” you said, pulling your hand away, “I think we’re gonna have some fun Shiggy, ”

He nodded, “mommy, please, please touch me, ”

You couldn't deny him any longer. He was practically crying. He’d been so touch-starved for years it wasn't just about how badly he needed to cum it was about how badly he needed not only to be touched but to touch someone else. He hadn't given or received a hug since he was a kid, and even now, he couldn't if he wanted to. Until you joined.

Your first quirk was impressive, but the fact that you had a secondary quirk to cancel out his had to be fate. He decided that very day that you were his soulmate. You were the one he could do all that cheesy romance stuff he’d seen during movie nights when it was Toga’s turn. You were his from the moment he saw you.

“I’ll touch you baby boy, don't worry, ” you said, taking off your shirt.

He stared at your chest as you unclipped your bra. He reached for your boob, seemingly to play with it in his hands but instead pulled you towards his mouth. He sucked harshly, groping your other tit. You groaned as he pinched and twisted your left nipple and sucked on your right one. You weren't even on the bed yet, still knelt beside it. You pushed him away and climbed on top of him, laying him flat on his back.

“You're so rough with mommy, sweetie. You have absolutely no power in this position, no matter how much you'd like to deny it. Now I wonder, ” you said, reaching between his legs, “does this little cow moo?”

You jerked his cock harshly, causing Shigaraki to let out a loud moan.

You whispered in his ear, “It looks like the answer is yes, ”

You kissed his cute little ear, still getting him off with your hands. He came again, painting your hand with cum, but he still wasn't satisfied. You took his nipple in your mouth once again, sucking warm milk from him. He was shuddering and thrashing around on the bed once again, falling apart from the lack of stimulation to his dick.

“Mommy, need inside. Please mommy please, ” he begged.

“Be patient, Shigaraki, ” you said, caressing his cheek, “I'm taking you every way I know how, ”

You crawled down the bed, letting your left hand trail down his body, pinching and twisting his nipple again. You smeared the milk that oozed out over it. When you finally settled between his legs, you took your time admiring and practically worshipping his thighs. You kneaded the flesh in your hands, kissing, licking, and biting them, thrilled you were finally able to get your hands on them. You’d always had a thing for his thighs, not sure why.

When you finally started moving upwards he begged you shamelessly.

“Please put your mouth on my cock, mommy, ” he whined, “please, I'll be good. I’ll be a good boy for you mommy, ”

You bit and kissed his inner thighs more, traveling as high as you could while still ignoring his oozing cock. You had to dig your nails into his thighs to keep Shigaraki from closing them. You finally brushed your lips against his balls, and Shigaraki almost came right then and there. You licked long stripes up his dick, pausing to let your tongue tickle the head. He was holding back now, trying to last so he could feel your mouth for just a little longer. You sucked on the head of his cock, impressed by his willpower and even more excited to break him down.

You took him into your mouth and hollowed your cheek, not caring about the tears streaming down your face or how you gagged whenever you moved your mouth. He pulled you up until your breathing steadied.

“Dont hurt yourself, mommy, ” he said.

He pet your hair as you were still only halfway down his cock. He was so sweet to you, such a good boy. You rolled his balls in one hand, wrapping the other around what he wouldn't allow your mouth to cover, and sucked harshly on what you could. He was starting to break down, finally letting go in your mouth. He came with another strangled cry. If you were honest, his cum tasted awful thanks to his poor diet, but luckily, you knew exactly how to get rid of the taste.

“As much as I love milking your cock, baby, I think there's something else that needs milking too, ” you said.

You brought your head to his chest once again gulping down milk.

You pulled away “you need to est better sweetie. I’ll cook for you from now on, ”

He looked like he was about to object, so you captured his lips in a sweet kiss, letting him know how happy you were that he was here with you and how excited you were to take care of him. You had used your mouth and hands which only left one option, your cunt. Or so he thought.

“Kneel for me by the end of the bed, Shigaraki, ” you said.

He did as he was told, “you can call me Tomura, ” he said.

“Such a pretty name, ” you praised, “now put your cock between my thighs,”

You had lifted your legs as best you could, counting on him to support you the rest of the way.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“I want you to fuck my thighs, ” you explained, “and if you try to slip inside of me, I'm not fucking you properly until tomorrow and you can suffer for the rest of today, ”

He frowned. That was no fair, but he wasn't going to disobey you. He had promised to be a good boy. So he took off your pants and lined himself up with your thighs, moaning as he slid in between them.

“ go ahead, baby boy, make yourself feel good, Tomura” you said.

He nodded, beginning to thrust into your thighs. He had your legs draped over his shoulders and was dangerously close to your aching cunt. He was whimpering the entire time, desperate to finish so he could get inside of you. Feel how warm and wet you were. Letting you squeeze him and milk his cock, how he’d play with your tits as you moaned beneath him. That's all it took for the head of his dick to peek out from between your thighs and paint you with his cum.

“Baby, you did such a good job for mommy, ” you praised him, “fuck me, Tomura, you deserve it, ”

He reached into the drawer of his nightstand, but you stopped him.

“I'm on the pill. You don't need a condom, ” you said.

He shook his head and rifled through the drawer before pulling out a cock ring, sliding it on.

“Wanna make mommy feel good too, ” he said, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, “wanna last so mommy can cum with me, ”

You squeezed him tight, kissing the top of his head.

“You're so sweet, baby, ” you said.

He pulled down your panties, lining himself up, and hovering over you.

“Tell me if it hurts, ” he said.

You nodded, and he pushed in slowly, stretching you, but you didn't want him to stop. Once he was entirely inside you, he stopped. He tried to commit the feeling of you to memory. He began thrusting slowly, focusing all his energy on making you feel good. He reached down to rub your clit, causing you to moan out his name. He tried every angle to try and find the spot you liked. When your back arched and you moaned out, ‘right, there baby,’ he knew he’d found his mark. He kept thrusting, speeding up, watching you come undone. You grabbed his hair, arched your back into his chest, and didn't try to hide your desperate moans.

“Tomura, I'm close, ” you said, pressing his forehead to yours.

He nodded and kept going, whining and whimpering. You groaned, starting to reach your limit. You started grinding against him, chasing your high desperately. You came with a high-pitched whine, juices coating his cock.

“That's it, mommy, please cum on my cock. I love making you feel good, mommy I-, ” he was cut off by his orgasm, crying out to you.

He collapsed on top of you, cum oozing out of your hole.

“Will you go out on a date with me?” he whispered.

You laughed, “yes, of course I'll go out on a date with you, Tomura”

“Thank you, mommy, ” he whispered.

The door swung open.

“Y/n are you dead or-, ” Dabi grinned, “we’re eating good tonight, guys!” he called downstairs, closing the door as everyone cheered.

“Spinner made me go ask if you had a crush on me. I said no, but then he offered to get us all dinner for three nights, ” you explained, “plus you actually liked me back, which in my opinion is much better than anything he could have offered, ”

He chuckled, “I'll have to thank him. You're not getting out of this bed until dinner y/n, hope you know that, ”

#tomura fluff #tomura smut #tenko smut #tomura x reader #mha tomura #tomura imagine #shigaraki tenko #tomura shiragaki #tomurashigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki smut #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader

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foodieforthoughts · 3 years

Text

Make it work

Summary: You knew the moment you saw the package at your door that Chris had some plans in store for you.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: 18+, RPF, naughty talks, use of toys, flirty Chris, smutty talks, implied smut

A/N: Picture drabble time! It's kind of a followup/part of Morning Ritual. I can't get enough of this man and his ASP chats are not helping.

*First gif from the link

**Other gifs from the link

Title: Make it work

As soon as his face appeared on your screen, you knew he was in a different kind of mood today. Donning his printed shirt and the white undershirt which did little to conceal his chest tattoos, Chris was all smiles and had greeted you with an excited "Hey!" with the conversation quickly turning into the most fun and energetic one you have had ever since being separated due to the pandemic.

Like everyday for the past weeks, you were on your customary video call with Chris. Only that it was a Sunday and instead of an early morning call, it was in the afternoon. You would have generally slept in through the morning, but the package delivery earlier that day had kept you awake ever since.

It was from Chris and when you had texted him to ask about it, he had written back in all caps, "Do not open it."

Your conversation was flowing smoothly when you asked him about Dodger and while he started recalling an incident that happened over the week with the pup chasing behind a squirrel in the park, you eyed the brown package sitting on your table. You waited for Chris to finish his story before you said, "You know I love Dodger and I love listening about him." You slid the box in front of you and pointed towards it, "But I have to interrupt. I am dying to know what is inside this box."

"What do you think it is?" He asked, grabbing his beer to take a sip.

You tried not to squirm when he chugged his beer while maintaining eye contact with you. You were in that phase of your cycle where your man could melt your panties even with a side glance. For a long second you couldn't look anywhere but his lips, wishing desperately that they were on yours right now.

Shaking your head and clenching your thighs shut, you looked back to the box and began tearing it open.

"At least give me a hint of what I should expect." You mumbled while trying to take the tape off the sides. You looked up at your teasing boyfriend who seemed to be enjoying your dilemma of not knowing what you had in store.

"All I can say is..." He stopped when you let out a loud gasp.

Your mouth fell open looking at the package in front of you. Inside the outer cardboard box there was black box with a pink vibrator printed on it. It was the kind that could be controlled by an app and a remote. Seeing that the plastic covering was torn, you were sure that Chris had already configured the settings with his phone.

"Chris," You began, feeling your cheeks heat up by every passing second.

"Before you feel cornered," he raised his hand to stop you from saying anything. "We don't have to try that. Anything that makes you uncomfortable is off the list."

You looked up at the screen and Chris waited patiently for your reaction. He had a smile on his face, watching you intently as you took the box out and turned it around in your hand.

You felt your face flush with warmth and your heart flutter at his words. You smiled at him, unboxing the device and taking out the curved toy in your hand. Reading over the instructions, it was supposed to be a g-spot stimulator; reading that was enough to make you wet between your thighs.

"How did you come up with this brilliant idea?" You asked, placing the box and the silicone toy on the table.

Chris laughed while running his hand over the side of his head, a nervous tick that he did when left flustered. "I was only looking over at a website for myself and then Scott walked in the room-"

"Wait-what?!" Hearing that his brother might know what kind of sexual shenanigans Chris was upto, you felt a renewed wave of blush travel up to your cheeks. Your ears heated up at the possible scenarios of them discussing which device will provide you 'maximum pleasure'.

"You know Scott is not bothered by such things right?" He asked, shrugging his shoulder. "Infact, that one was selected by him."

"Chris!" You covered your mouth with your hand, groaning but also laughing.

"He also wants feedback of how it felt, so he can recommend it to his friends." Chris clearly was having too much fun with your embarrassment as he laughed while he spoke.

"I'm not going to do that!" You protested even though you were enjoying this yourself. Very rarely Chris was in a jovial mood these days, hating the distance between you two and being holed up in his house. He also had a lot of projects lined up for which he was constantly stressed and to add up to his thoughts, he was worried about his family and your safety.

So you went with the flow of the conversation, watching him laugh and explain to you how the device works. He showed the screen of his phone which had the app open and to demonstrate he turned the vibration on. The pink toy began vibrating on the table, rattling along the surface as Chris alternated between low and high vibrations.

"Oh god." You giggled and reached towards it to make it stop. But Chris immediately turned up the strength of the vibrations and it bounced on the surface, making you shriek in response.

Chris laughed loudly. He had his pearly whites on display, squinting as he laughed with the prominent laugh lines on the edges of his eyes. He looked adorable to you and the sound of his deep laugh made your heart strings strum with it.

"You are being so naughty today!" You chuckled when your regained your composure, and quickly turned the device off.

"Yes, yes, I am." He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"I miss you so much." He titled his head to the side, a wistful look on his face. "When will I get to hold you again?"

The change in the tone of his voice ached your heart. You sighed, running your hands through your hair and finding yourself at the loss of words.

"Soon. We are still making it work though." You tried to be optimistic. You worried that one day the distance would be too much and Chris will move on to someone present physically near him. You had stayed awake many times in the night, laying in bed alone, wishing that you had never left the country for work.

"Do you worry about us?" Chris had his cheek rested on his knuckles, his eyes fixed on you through the screen.

You pushed your chair closer to the table, resting your elbows on the wooden surface. Chris imitated your movements, clasping his hands together in front of him. You instantly noticed the watch you had gifted him, the unmistakable golden body of the watch shining in the sunlight through the window. Smiling softly at your man and hating the solemn look on his face, you reassured him.

"I do worry about us, but I know we'll be okay. It's not going to affect how I feel about you, how much I love you and how much I want to be with you."

Chris sighed, finally his lips breaking out into a smile. "I love you too. I want nothing but to be with you."

You nodded at him, trying to blink the tears away. You did not want to waste a day crying over a situation that was out of your control. So you came up with a plan.

"Babe, are you alone?" You asked, picking up the bright pink toy in your hand.

Chris's eyes twinkled when he looked at your hand and how you twirled the device between your fingers. He slowly nodded, raising his eyebrow as you stood up.

"Be right back." You excused yourself and made your way to the bathroom. Washing the silicone toy before use, you striped yourself off of all your clothes and stood in your naked glory. You switched on the device and carefully inserted the toy between your silken petals, marveled at how easily it slipped inside you since you were already drenched. You blushed that Chris could have this effect on you even from many miles away.

On your way back to the computer, you took a glass of water as your throat went dry anticipating the things that would occur.

"Chri-" You wanted to sound sultry but with a jolt of vibration that hit your sweet spot with ferocity, you yelped out. Your hands jerked forward and the water spilled on the carpet and you looked wide-eyed at your boyfriend laughing on the screen.

"Oh shit!" He had his eyebrows raised in surprise as you stood with the empty glass in your hand. "I didn't know you would get water too. Sorry, sorry." He clasped his hand over his mouth, waiting for your reaction.

He might have expected you to get mad at him. But you weren't even the least bit angry. If anything, that single shock of delicious stimulation had your entire body ready for some loving. So instead, you placed the glass on the table and sat down on your chair. Bringing your arms to rest underneath your breasts, watching as Chris's eyes travelled to your hardened nubs, you smirked to yourself.

"You have to make it up to me now." You twirled a stray strand of hair around your finger and noted how Chris's stare turned into a lustful gaze. "Come on now. Strip."

"Yes ma'am." He said before peeling his shirt off his body.

#chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans rpf #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans #chris evans drabble

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

closeted | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook doesn't like you and you don't like him. Your friends and his friends decide enough is enough and they lock you in a closet together to settle your differences. Mhm.

warnings: language; implied slut-shaming; alcohol consumption; fuckboy?Jungkook x (technically noona) fuckgirl?reader, ft all other BTS members being... helpful? lol; enemies-to-lovers

–

“Jeon Jungkook? I don’t really have any thoughts about him. Isn’t he kind of a fuckboy?”

“Oh, her? Ah, there’s nothing to say really. Doesn’t she like to mess around?”

Those were your opinions about each other, which was now why both you and Jeon Jungkook were stuck in a closet in Kim Taehyung’s parents’ house.

“Taehyung, let us out right now!”

“Not until you two stop hating each other!” announced the booming, baritone voice of Kim Taehyung on the other side of the door, slightly tipsy and yelling over the loud music.

“We don’t hate each other,” came the silvery growl behind you. Jungkook shoved you slightly to the side so he could slam his fist against the heavy wood. You scowled, jerking away from his touch. “Stop being stupid and open the door.” His short ponytail at the back of his head swayed as he tried to shoulder the door, only for you to hear more bodies press against it.

“Nuh uh, Jungkookie,” Park Jimin snickered, sounding drunker than Taehyung even though the two of them had probably consumed the same amount. “Can’t muscle pig your way outta this one.”

Taehyung and Jimin burst into giggles on the other side of the door as Jungkook fumed next to you, long black bangs flaring as he clicked his tongue and rolled the sleeves of his black sweatshirt up, eyes narrowed, jaw tense.

You threw up your hands as Jungkook backed up and ran into the door with a loud thunk!

Nothing except Jimin, Taehyung, and squeaky laughter adding to the mix.

“We don’t even talk to each other,” you muttered as Jungkook shook his head vigorously and prepared to rear up again like a stubborn horse.

“And that’s the problem!” Kim Seokjin tittered in between bursts of laughter. “We’re all friends, except the two of you that like to pretend the other one is a fucking tree rather than an actual person.”

Jungkook collided with the door again and the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling flickered ominously.

“Who cares?” Jungkook roared, throwing his head back and pushing his hair away from his face with two hands. You rolled your eyes as he smacked the closet door.

“We do,” said a fourth, trying to be the voice of slurred reason. “In order for our shared friend group to have harmony, we two should work out your differences in a civil, dignified manner and discuss the root of your negative relationship.” You made a face and glanced at Jungkook, who made a similar confused expression. How much did Kim Namjoon drink? He sounded like a drunk philosopher.

“Locked in a closet is not civil, Namjoon,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s funnier,” Jung Hoseok laughed cheerfully, knocking on the door. “You two good in there? Not ripping off each other’s heads yet?”

“We don’t hate each other,” Jungkook repeated, giving up on fighting the door now that five people were holding it down. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“What’s the reason then?”

“Huh?” you shouted through the door. Jungkook rolled his eyes at you and you rolled your eyes back.

“What is,” Taehyung repeated, slower this time, emphasizing each syllable. “The reason that you guys are so hostile towards each other?”

“Did he eat some snacks you hid one time?” Seokjin piped up. “Because that would piss me off too.”

“That already pisses you off, hyung,” Jimin cut in. “You always bring it up.”

“Because he does it all the time! No matter where I hide them!”

“Your hiding places a pretty bad, hyung.”

“Namjoon! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Eh?”

“The side of reason and being right!”

“Hah…”

Jungkook clicked his tongue again and shoved his hands into his loose cotton pants. They were black and white striped and looked more like pajamas than actual pants. He hadn’t even bothered to get dressed to hang out with his friends. What a weirdo. You sighed, looking away, staring at the wall instead. Why look at Jeon Jungkook? Everyone looked at Jeon Jungkook. You didn’t need to add to that ego.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Why are you wearing hyung’s shirt?”

You glared at him from your periphery. He was leaning against the wall, hunched over, glaring back.

“First of all, this is my shirt,” you snapped. “Second of all, they’re all your hyungs. Be more specific. And third of all, Yoongi only borrowed it because he said he was cold and this was one of the few things that fit him.”

Jungkook shoved his tongue into his cheek, looking at your black-on-black long-sleeved shirt with a moon tarot card design. He narrowed his dark eyes, giving you a piercing stare. You ran a hand through your hair, cocking your head away from him haughtily.

“Yeah, but you knew which hyung I was talking about.”

“Because only one of them has borrowed this shirt, idiot.”

“That’s not very nice,” Hoseok chided from the other side of the door. “No name calling in there!”

“You’re not very nice,” you retorted at the door, suddenly remembering that they were out there listening. In fact, one of the loons had turned down the music so the five of them could hear the exchange better. Mature of them.

“Why don’t you two say something you like about the other?” Namjoon suggested. “Compliments might help lessen the tension.”

Your eyes shifted to Jungkook’s clenched jaw, a vein popping on his neck. Yeah, okay. He noticed you looking and you jerked your head away, staring at the wall again.

“This is stupid. Why do we have to do this?” you complained.

“You look pretty good from the back.”

You flinched, irritation rising. Did he just–?

“For an older lady, that is.”

A muscle in your eye twitched. “Yeah, well, every guy says I look good from the rear view.”

“That’s not a compliment, Jungkook,” a deep, raspy voice from the bottom of the door.

Jungkook lifted himself off the wall, making a noise of surprise. “Yoongi-hyung? How long have you been there?”

“The whole time,” Jimin giggled. “He’s been pretending to be asleep.”

“I can’t sleep anyway,” Min Yoongi grumbled. “You guys are loud as fuck.”

“Nah, you just wanted to listen to the shitshow of these two,” Taehyung teased. There was the sound of a hand smacking of a shoulder and a disgruntled grunt at the bottom of the door.

Seokjin called your name loudly. “Yah! You haven’t said anything, backhanded or not!”

You grimaced and glanced at Jungkook again. He still looked surprised and, for a single second, you thought he looked pretty cute with his big round dark brown eyes and parted pink lips in an ‘o’. For a single second, he didn’t seem like that ‘hot guy’ that literally everyone, not just women, but men too, everyone was head-over-heels in love with, Jeon Jungkook, ‘hot guy’ with tattoos and a handsome face.

Blech.

You shifted your eyes away and stared at the corner. “I guess you might not have only one brain cell. Maybe you have two or three.”

“Ooh, nice, that’s a great one,” Jimin agreed behind the door. “Three is being generous, noona, well done.”

“Shut up, Jimin-ssi.”

Ugh, this shit was so dumb. And what kind of closet was this anyway? It was full of coats. A lot of them were more neutral colors, but there was the occasional muted jewel tone. Why did Taehyung’s family need this many coats and why was this closet on the upper floor? Some of them were neatly tucked in clear plastic covers. Oh. Probably to prevent them from getting moth holes, huh.

“Why do you hate me, anyway?” Jungkook muttered. “I’ve never done anything to you.”

“I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you,” you huffed.

“Why not? What did I do?” he sighed, reaching over and placing his hand on your shoulder.

You whipped your head around, narrowing your eyes. “Don’t touch me.”

He removed his hand, backing up with his hands in the air. “Whoa, okay, jeez. It’s just kind of hard to talk to you when your back is to me.”

“Hmph, why? Precious Jungkookie wants attention? Wants everyone to dote over him and love him?” you mocked in disgust, crossing your arms.

He twisted his lips. “… distracting, that’s all,” he mumbled.

“Hah?” You leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “You forget how to talk?”

Jungkook looked away from you, frowning. “Sometimes, yeah. You’re kind of pretty.”

You blinked at him. What? You didn’t expect him to say that.

“In some lights, anyway.” He pointed up. “This one is pretty dim, like you.”

That was more like it. “Takes one to know one.”

His eyes shifted back to you. “What? A pretty person to spot pretty?”

You growled and scoffed, rolling your eyes. “See, this is why I can’t talk to you. You’re so full of yourself. All you ever do is think about is showing off how much better you are. How cool you are.”

“That’s because that’s all they ever talk about.”

You paused at his downcast tone. Your eyes drifted from the wall to his face. Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were on the ground and he was rubbing the back of his head, frowning.

“I envy the way others talk about me. They always have such a perfect image pictured.” He inhaled deeply, slumping against the wall again. “It’s hard to live up to the picture everyone has of me in their head. Sometimes I don’t even want to try anymore so they give up and leave me alone.”

What?

His dark eyes shifted to you, half-shrouded by his long dark hair, tan skin glowing even in this dim closet light.

“I envy you,” he snapped, irritated edge to his voice. “I know you hear all that crazy shit they say about you, but you do whatever you want anyway. People call you a slut and you just invite all the hyungs over to your place and watch movies all night. People say you dress weird and you show up in big fur coats and wacky t-shirts and knee-high boots. People say you don’t know what you’re doing, but you can calculate your change faster than the cashier with the fucking computer.”

You gawked at him; jaw slightly slack. It took you a second to collect yourself. “It’s… not that hard. It’s basic math.”

“Hmph, yeah, well, I suck at math,” Jungkook muttered. “I’m not smart like Namjoon-hyung.”

“You’re good at a lot of things, Jungkook.”

“Like what?” he accused, putting you on the spot.

“Uh… you can draw. Namjoon draws like a five-year-old.”

Jungkook snorted. “Taehyung can draw.”

You raised an eyebrow. Honorifics, where? “Not realistically like you can. It’s a different style. Weirder.”

“I’m not weird,” Taehyung said through the door, voice half-muffled.

“Yeah, you are,” Jungkook replied without looking away from you.

“You’re kind of like an alien. In a good way,” Jimin added hastily.

“You’re kind of like an idiot,” Taehyung shot back.

Slapping sounds ensued outside the door.

Jungkook scratched his head, messing up his black hair. “I’m just saying I wish I was a little more like you sometimes.” He coughed. “Only sometimes.”

You ran a hand through your hair. “Well, I kind of wish I was like you sometimes,” you admitted, looking away from him. “I wish people would say nice things about me like they do for you. I wish people would praise me without reason. I wish people would fall in love with me like how they fall in love with you, without even knowing you.” You scoffed bitterly, flicking a hand carelessly. “Instead, they just play pretend and mess with my feelings because they think I’m easy.”

You left out a heavy sigh, weight off your chest. You hadn’t meant to say all that, but oh well. It was out there now.

So dumb.

“Then, when they find out I’m not, it’s my fault for some stupid reason. Like it’s my fault you painted this fake picture of me in your head.”

You felt something touch your outstretched hand. You jumped, seeing Jungkook’s right hand touching your fingertips, hand ink standing out against his flexed fingers. You almost pulled back. Almost. Then you caught the look in his eyes and stopped, mesmerized by the seriousness in his dark brown orbs.

“I meant it when I said you were pretty,” he whispered, barely audible.

Your eyes widened.

Your pulse raced through your veins.

“You… you said only in some lights,” you whispered back.

Jungkook lifted himself off the wall. One step. Two steps, towards you. You could have backed up. You could have slapped his hand away and yelled at Taehyung some more to let you out. Men were stupid. They ain’t shit. They play with your feelings and only want to use you. Dudes are just fuckboys.

Except Jungkook confirmed he wasn’t, just now.

And you confirmed you weren’t the female equivalent of a fuckboy – a fuckgirl?

For some reason, that made this different now.

This moment.

Jungkook looked down at you, tilting his head, brown eyes curious. You spread your fingers a little more and laced them with his, pressing your fingertips against the back of his hand as he pressed his against yours. You tilted your head the other way as he leaned down.

“I said you’re pretty in some lights,” he breathed. “You’re beautiful in all of them.”

He stopped just above your lips.

Pausing.

You lifted yourself up to close the gap, holding his hand tightly.

Mouth to mouth, resuscitating something that was almost dead because of misunderstandings and surface judgements, whispers and rumors clouding the truth, because everybody talks, everybody talks, everybody talks… too much.

For some reason, you expected Jungkook to smell musky or woodsy, something manly, but, in actuality, his cologne was light and sweet, barely there, like a fresh summer’s breeze. It was you that smelled more intense, your coffee and cream perfume mixing with his fruity scent, dominating a little, just like how you pressed harder into his soft lips, capturing them, surprised that was pleasant, almost sweet but with a hint of spice, the tip of his tongue teasingly brushing against your lips, and you drew back, narrowing your eyes at him.

He smiled a little, squeezing your hand lightly.

“That was nicer than I thought,” he murmured.

“You’re not that bad yourself,” you muttered, frowning a little at the heat rising in your cheeks.

“You guys still alive in there?” Yoongi asked gruffly from the ground, his voice drifting under the door.

“Did they kill each other? Should we open the door?” Seokjin wondered.

The doorknob began to turn.

Jungkook started and reached for the door.

You jumped and reached for the door.

A thin crack of light appeared.

Your hands intertwined, grabbing the doorknob and yanking it closed before it could fully open, both swiftly locking the door together with a firm click. The doorknob shook, confused noises on the other side of the wood.

Jungkook stared at you, brown eyes wide. “I… I just… thought we were getting somewhere,” he whispered under his breath.

You scratched your cheek with your free hand. “Yeah… we were getting somewhere... with this.”

The doorknob rattled violently.

“Excuse me, you two?” Taehyung shouted through the door. “Why the fuck is the door locked?”

“Uh…” you started.

“It’s jammed,” Jungkook shouted back.

“Nope, it’s definitely locked. I heard it,” Yoongi said from the floor.

“That bastard,” Jungkook hissed quietly, stepping closer to you.

“Why is it locked?” Jimin accused, sounding peeved. “Hmm? You two doing some naughty stuff?”

“Scandalous,” Seokjin and Hoseok gasped in unison.

Jungkook glanced at you and you shrugged, mouthing, maybe? He mouthed back, I thought you weren’t easy. You chuckled, speaking softly to his chin.

“We already spent all that time being hostile to each other.”

“So, you admit to the hostility.”

“Sure, if it helps your delicate baby brain sleep at night.”

His free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to his chest, kissing you again, holding your hand tightly, muttering against your lips, you’re kind of annoying, and you muttering back, you’re actually annoying, and him smiling between gentle kisses.

“I have to find the key, fuck, what the hell are they doing in there?”

“Are you sure you wanna know Taehyung?” Yoongi yawned from the ground. “What if you open the door and you’re scarred for life?”

“They were supposed to find common ground, not get handsy!” Taehyung shouted back, bounding away with Jimin’s disapproving sigh following. In the closet, Jungkook let go of your hand, kneading your waist as you wrapped your arms around him, both of your hands on his broad back, moaning softly into his lips as he sighed into yours, the kisses more audible now, hands exploring as Yoongi sat outside the door, clicking his tongue knowingly.

“You’re handsome, huh,” you breathed against his kisses.

“In some lights?” he teased.

You laughed, slipping your hands under his black sweatshirt, running your fingertips on his skin, making him gasp into your kisses.

“Yeah, in some lights.”

Outside the closet, Yoongi and Namjoon sat side by side, Seokjin and Hoseok long gone from secondhand embarrassment. The sounds from the closet were escalating, clothes rustling a little too much for two people who supposedly hated each other. But, as Yoongi and Namjoon discussed calmly, there were plenty of signs that indicated that those weren’t their true feelings.

“If you think about it, they’re a good fit,” Namjoon chuckled, amused as he heard Jungkook yelp. “This whole stuck in the closet thing was more fruitful than I thought.”

Yoongi laughed, raspy and full.

“Why do you think I suggested it?”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader

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nakamoto-aesthetics · 3 years

Text

Phone Sex | j.jh

synopsis: you were horny and couldn’t cum properly so you decide to facetime your boyfriend

pairing: boyfriend!jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: smut, a crumb of fluff

warning: masturbation (fem!male)

word count: 1.6k

“baby?” jaehyuns raspy voice fills your ears, suggesting that he was sleeping prior to this call like you’d thought.

“hi babe, I can’t sleep so I called you but you’re… sleeping” you looked at him, visibly disappointed. how were you gonna get off now? you felt bad about calling him this late.

“no, it’s okay baby” he says lowly and holds the phone higher, resting the back of his hand against his eyes. you could see his collarbone peeking out from the loose shirt he was wearing; his hair going in different directions, his slightly puffy face and lips. all of it turned you on.

you slip your right hand into your pants and begin to tease yourself over your panties, moving your index finger up and down your clothed slit. you close your eyes for a split second letting out a small staggered breath.

“so why can’t you sleep?” you hear shuffling from the other side of the screen and see him moving up to turn on his light.

“because I can’t stop thinking about you,” this was in fact true, it was why you were in this position now. you tried to use your imagination, pictures, videos any thing to get the boy off your mind before but none of it worked. you just needed something of him in real time so this is what you came up with.

“well, you woke me up from a dream… that you were in so in a way I was thinking about you too” he takes his hand off his eyes and smiles softly, his dimples showing; his voice was still raspy and deep in this moment. the whole scenery set you off and you had to slip your hands under your panties, feeling all your wetness pool at your fingertips. you let out a soft noise, your face contouring with it.

“what was that?” jaehyuns eyebrows are furrowed.

“uh… I hurt myself, so every time I move my leg it hurts” you quickly make up a lie.

“aw baby,” he pouts and that’s how you know some part of him bought it. “I wish I could kiss it better. what happened?”

“…I hit it on the table leg when I was getting up” you bit your lip, careful not to let out any moans as you watch him bit his lip with a concerned look.

“my poor baby. i’ll kiss it better when I come over tomorrow”

“yes you will” you say with a devilish look. what you were thinking was very dirty, enough to make you throb excessively. you slip your index finger inside yourself, thinking about him eating you out. you slowly thrust your finger into yourself, releasing low, throaty moans.

“y/n” jaehyun says firmly, his tone changing almost immediately. you hum innocently, knowing that any second he was gonna catch on. you paid attention to him, slowing down your fingers.

“what are you doing?” jaehyun was definitely awake now, that was obvious. his whole face was in the camera and his eyebrow was cocked up, looking at you.

“uh… i’m totally not getting off to you” you fake laugh and advert your eyes. you could’ve lied but having to make a lie was tiring and at the same time you kind of wanted him to know.

“you little slut, I should’ve gone with my gut feeling” jaehyun shakes his head thinking deeply before looking back at you. “so you called me at 3 in the morning to get off?”

“that’s right jae now if you will excuse me” you begin to move your finger again, speeding up since he’s already figured it out. on the flip slide, jaehyun whispers the words “fucking slut” and continues to watch you attentively for your facial expressions; it wasn’t long after you notice this and let out a string of profanities, breathily moaning.

“babygirl, let me see that pretty pussy. you wanna open up for me?” you don’t say anything and put the phone down, hurriedly striping your lower half completely naked. you grab the phone and position it between your legs so your legs were spread on either side of the phone. the phone itself was in the center allowing him to see everything.

“damn, look at how wet you are princess. I would lick all of it up in an instant” you hear movement in the background on the other side but don’t think any of it. you slide your hand to your hole, rubbing circles around it, wanting to tease him and yourself.

“jae” you bite your lip, moaning softly.

“babygirl” he bites his lip. he could still see some of your face from the new angle which he was thankful for. he looked to see the way your face reacted to things.

you slide your finger inside and start to go at normal speed, you use your other hand to tease him by running your hands all over your body. you hear him grunt, along with sounds coming from his side, sounds of… small skin slapping and that’s when you put it together.

“jae?”

“yes baby?”

“are you…” you trail off by yourself and he hums, confirming your thought. you bite your lip and speed up a little bit; god you found that so hot.

“now listen to me pretty girl, you’re gonna do exactly what I say alright?” he says, expecting no question to come from it. you hum obediently and wait for his first direction.

“add another finger” he bites his lip harshly and you do as he says, adding another digit. you moan aloud when you feel your pussy stretching. you hear him grunt and the sound of skin slapping gets faster.

“jae I want to see you too” you whine.

“right, sorry baby” you watch him as he repositions his phone. you have to stop yourself from cuming right then and there once his phone is set up and directed right at his area. the farthest you could see was up to his mid stomach and the lowest was his upper thighs. the sight was so hot especially because of his abs and the way they contracted when he stroked his dick. you wanted to lick him up and down. jaehyun had a hot ass body, everyone knew that but you were the only one who got to touch it.

you move your fingers faster, causing him to stroke himself faster. his dick is so pretty, you thought. it may have been weird to verbally admit that but never had it been hard to express it; you often gave him blow jobs and hand jobs just because you loved his dick and the way it reacted to your every move, plus it was just undeniably pretty. this moment was so hot for both of you. the two of you watching each other get off to the other felt so sexy to you.

“jae i-im g-gonna-” you let out a choked moan.

“add another finger and cum for me pretty girl” he groans as his hand starts to speed up. moans and grunts start to fall from his mouth as do yours. you add one more finger just like he says and you let out a lewd moan. your pussy contracting around your fingers as you begin to thrust at an animalistic pace as does his hand, groans and moans are released from both of you, mixing together beautifully.

“jaehyun!” you scream as your hips go into a frenzy, pushing out your warm cum, letting it drip down your centerfold. all meanwhile, his cum spurts out of the slit and land on his abs, thighs, and of course dick. damn was that hot? you swore you would’ve licked him clean if you were there.

“damn babygirl” he breathes heavily and gets up walking out out the frame for a few seconds before returning with a towel to clean himself up. he was all on display for you and so were you considering you hadn’t moved from your position.

“jae” you whine and pout, he hums in response and looks at the screen. “two things, you’re so fucking hot and I want cuddles” he chuckles at that and continues to clean himself.

“two things, you’re the hot one and tomorrow i’ll cuddle you babygirl, I promise” he states and you scrunch your nose, shaking your head at his first statement. he walks out of frame again and comes back with a pair of boxers on. he sits down on his bed and grabs the phone, returning to the position he was in when he first answered the phone.

“clean up babe” he says softly, looking at the mess of liquids all over your pussy.

“i will babe don’t worry” you reach down and grab the phone, pulling it up to you so that he was only looking at your face. jaehyun hated to sit in his cum and so he hated when you did it. “I guess I should go to sleep so then tomorrow will come” he smiles sweetly and nods.

“okay, i’ll see you tomorrow. goodnight I love you pretty girl” jaehyun reaches up to turn off his light and it gets dark, the only light present being the moon, and it was now illuminating on jaehyuns face, highlighting his features.

“goodnight, I love you too jae” you create a kiss sound with your lips and he does the same before hanging up the phone.

you place your phone down, quickly cleaning yourself up with a nearby shirt because you were too lazy to get up and grab a towel like jae. you sigh and pull the comforter up to your neck; not bothering to put on any clothes. you’ll wash the sheets later you decide, closing your eyes, and sighing happily as you bite your lip.

so fucking worth it.

NCT Masterlist

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct smut #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun imagines #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct

644 notes · View notes

peach-skull · 3 years

Text

Forever yours

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

__________________________________________________________________________

tags/TW

Unprotected sex, dry humping, pregnancy mention, cumming inside, childhood friends to lovers, facesitting, shiggy being his nasty self, no quirks au, fluff adjacent

________________________________________________________________

You would get a turn once he died. That’s how it was: That’s how it had been ever since you two were children. Tomura rarely died in video games, so if you wanted a turn you either had to whine until he gave in or wait until he was too focused to notice you take it from him until it was too late. However, you weren’t interested in video games today. You were interested in him. In his soft blue hair, his long, slender fingers, his beautiful crimson eyes. You were head over heels for your best friend since childhood, Tomura Shigaraki. It was a terrible, roiling mixture of puppy love and sheer lust. You wanted to go on long walks and hold his hand. You also wanted him to bend you over a table and fuck you until your legs gave out.

“ Tomu.”

He didn’t answer you, too absorbed in his game to pay attention to anything else. You huffed and tapped him with your foot.

“Tomura!”

Shigaraki muttered something unintelligible and paused his game, looking at you over his shoulder.

“ What do you want, (Y/N)?”

Showtime.

“ I have, uh, a personal question for you”

He grabbed an energy drink and took a sip.

�� Just ask it already.”

You needed to ask this casually. Like you couldn’t care less about the answer. Just making friendly conversation.

“ You’re still a virgin, right?”

He choked on his drink, coughing and sputtering as he tried to think of an answer. Who just asks shit like that?! You better not be making fun of him.

“ That’s none of your goddamn business,asshole.”

Based on his reaction alone, he had to be. You shrugged casually and adjusted one of your thigh-highs, smoothing your pleated skirt once it was back in position. You had worn them especially for him: you knew him long enough to know what he liked.

“ I’ll take that as a yes. So am I. I want to lose it but like, with the right person y’know? Not some rando, or like, a boyfriend who’ll sour the experience if we break up.”

You have never used ‘like’ in a sentence so many times in your life. Or used the word rando.

“ so I was thinking, wouldn’t it be way easier to do it with someone you already trust? Like a close friend . so what if we, Y’know, helped each other ou-

SLAM. before you could even finish your question, Shigaraki had moved from the foot of the bed to the headboard, straddling you with his hands gripping above your head.

He loomed above you, a massive cheshire grin plastered on his flushed face.

“ You aren’t fucking with me, right? You’re being serious? You actually wanna fuck?”

You didn’t expect him to be so enthusiastic about it. You thought he would decline, or accept in a less...intense manner. He was panting and leering and- was he seriously drooling? As if to answer your question, a drop of spit landed on your chest. Maybe a keyhole sweater wasn’t the best thing to wear today.

“N-no, I'm not messing around, Tomu. I-I want… I want to have sex with you.”

Tomura quickly laid on top of you, pinning you down and shoving his tongue into your mouth. You had never been kissed before. You tried to keep up with him, but he was just so rough that it was difficult to do so.You put your trembling hands oh his shoulders and tried to wiggle into a more comfortable position. He snickered and began to grind against your lap, completely misunderstanding what you were trying to do. You pushed his face away, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

“ Get off for a second, I need to move my legs.”

Tomura rolled his eyes but did as you said, crawling backwards on all fours. More of a scuttle, really. You lifted your skirt and spread your legs, revealing your string-tie panties. You didn’t even get the chance to tell him to come back before he pounced, rutting against your covered pussy and latching onto your neck. You could feel the seam of his jeans rubbing on your clit as he frantically humped you. It felt better than you thought it would: his weight on you, the teeth on your throat, the grind of his hard cock on your aching sex. You were getting close to the edge already, moaning and grabbing onto his hoodie as you tried not to finish.

“T-Tomura! Please slow down, I- ah! I’m- I don’t want to cum from kissing! Please, just s-stop for a second!”

Goddammit, he was so close. It hurt to pull away from the warm embrace of your thighs, but he grit his teeth and did it anyways. You had a point: cumming from dry humping alone was a little pathetic. Shigaraki sat back on his heels and surveyed the damage.

Your skirt was pulled up past your stomach. One of your thigh highs had rolled all the way down to your ankle and your neck was covered in bruises. The hole in the chest of your sweater had slipped, exposing the top of your nipples. You weren’t wearing a bra. Holy shit, you weren’t wearing a bra. You had waltzed over to his house and sat on his bed in thigh highs and a sailor skirt and one of those sweaters with a boob window and NO FUCKING BRA. Tomura jumped off of the bed and pulled down his pants without bothering to unzip them. As you stared at the absolute monster of a cock that your best friend somehow had tucked away just moments ago, you only had one question on your mind.

“ um, Shiggy?”

You only called him that when you were particularly nervous. Tomura tore off his hoodie, his shirt going along with it and threw them both on the ground.

“ Why the hell is your dick so goddamn big?!”

He looked down at his crotch as if he had absolutely no clue that his cock was roughly the size of a coke bottle. He looked at you and shrugged.

“ No idea. It’s always been like this, can I fuck your tits?”

He had to be joking.

“What?!”

“ Can you give me a titjob? Please?! I’m really close! It’ll take like two minutes, I swear!

If you weren’t madly in love with this man, you’d put him and his stupid horse cock in a shallow grave.

“ Yeah, yeah, just gimme a sec…”

He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him, grinning wildly.

“ Lay down over here and put your boobs on my lap. This’ll be great,I swear.”

Shit, why did he have to be so cute?! You grumbled about various grievances you had with your friend and his dopey smile and that scar on his lips and and his stupid fucking fat dick as you got off his bed and walked over to where he was sitting. You stood in front of him and took off your sweater, chucking it into his face.

“ I swear to GOD if you choke me with that thing, I’ll bite it off. No head-pushing, Understand?”

He just smiled and nodded his head rapidly.

You turned around and took your skirt off, bending over afterwards to roll up the rogue stocking that had decided to slip. While you were busy trying to keep the damn thing from falling again, Tomura grabbed the strings tying your panties together and tugged, undoing the bows and yanking them off of you.

“HEY!”

He held the underwear up to get a closer look. They were white and (f/c) striped, with lace and a little bow on top. Absolutely adorable. He was going to add them to his collection when you weren’t looking,but he just couldn't resist pressing his face into the damp fabric and inhaling deeply.

Was this motherfucker seriously sniffing your panties right in front of you?! You snatched the cloth away from him and threw them across the room, safe from his nasty clutches. For now.

“ Heh, sorry about that (Y/N). You always smell so good, I couldn’t help myself.”

That really shouldn’t have made your stomach flutter the way it did. You laid on the bed, lowering your chest onto Tomura’s lap. He ran his hand down your back and slapped your ass, laughing when you yelped out of pain and surprise.

“ Raise your hips. I can’t have you doing all the work now can I?”

He lowered his hand past your ass, but his fingers couldn’t reach your clit, stopping a few centimeters short. He grumbled and leaned to the side, trying his best to figure out a position that would let him rub your clit and finger your dripping pussy at the same time and gave him the lap titjob he wanted. He might have miscalculated, but that couldn’t be: it looked great in the hentai he saw a couple weeks ago, so it should work just fine IRL!

“ Tomura, this position is kinda weird. I don’t think this is going to work the way you think it will.”

“ Yes it will! C’mon, just raise your hips a little more-”

You looked up at him as best you could from the awkward position on his lap.

“ You saw this in a doujin, didn’t you?”

After around five minutes of arguing about whether or not Tomura’s stupid position would ( or even could) work, you decided to take initiative by pushing him down and sitting on his face. How else were you supposed to shut him up?

“ Sorry, Tomu. This was the only way to get you to be quiet. Seriously, who the hell gets into an argument about hentai in the middle of a hookup? There’s a time and place for everything, dumbass.”

You drooled into your palm to make impromptu lube before wrapping your hand around the head of his cock, smearing your saliva and his precum around as you jerked him off. You had never given a handjob before, but if the moans sending vibrations straight to your core where anything to go on, you were doing a pretty good job. You grabbed the back of his head and ground against his face, giggling when his cock twitched.

“ C’mon, make me cum! Don’t you wanna get to the main event? I want you to rail me until I can't walk. Don’t you wanna fuck me, Tomura? Do you wanna slam that fat cock into my tight little pussy or not?”

He’d always been fun to tease, but never like this. There was a sort of power in it now: you had him right where you wanted him. Or so you thought.Shigaraki growled and grabbed your ass to hold you still. He was sick and tired of you always messing with him. Elbowing him during multiplayer games so he would mess up.Taking the last sip of his energy drink, not even thinking of the indirect kiss. Filling his room with the smell of your perfume after a day of hanging out and then just leaving him alone to masturbate to the thought of you.

“ Aw, are you getting cranky, Tomu? I’m almo-”

He licked along your folds before getting to your clit. He drew slow circles with his tongue before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucking harshly. He flicked his tongue over your clit, adding a maddening amount of stimulation to the already overwhelming act. You squealed and tried to pull away, but his grip on you was too strong.

“ Oh fuck! It’s too much, I’m not gonna be able to - ah!- be able to focus on what I’m doing here!”

Tomura didn’t give a fuck about what you where trying to do. He cared about revenge. And if revenge came in the form of eating your pussy until you cried, then so be it. He had no plans of stopping : your bittersweet taste and your thighs squeezing his head was too damn good. He stopped sucking with a loud pop and shoved his tongue deep inside of you. He didn’t have a lot of experience ( he had 0 experience) but he had heard enough stories from his more socially savvy friends to know that you were supposed to keep your hands, mouth, or toys on the clit at all times. Keeping this advice in mind, he rubbed his thumb over your clit.

This was ridiculous. How was he this good at eating pussy? He was supposed to be the same as you: an inexperienced virgin. Maybe all that porn he watched did some good. You had no idea. All you knew for certain was that if he got the upper hand, you’d never hear the end of it. Your efforts had slowed due to Shigaraki’s distraction. You gripped his cock harder and moved your hand faster. Tomura moaned and bucked his hips. With the amount of precum that was leaking out, he had to be close.

He didn’t want to let you win, but your hand was making it impossible to focus. It was just so damn soft: nothing like his rough, calloused fist. Tomura had no idea how he was going to go back to his left hand after this. If your hand was this good, what was your cunt going to feel like? It really hit him then. He had been fantasizing about it for years, and now it was actually going to happen. He was going to fuck you. The mere thought of it caused the tension in his stomach to break, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his throbbing cock and landing on his torso. The look on his face was driving you insane: bright red, eyes rolled back in his skull, brows crinkled in a way you had always found adorable. You threaded your fingers through his hair with both hands and started desperately humping his face. You wanted to cum,needed to cum: you just wanted him to fuck you already. You had waited for years. You finally came with a wail, crushing his head between your thighs as you rode out the high of your long-awaited orgasm.

It took you several seconds to remember that your friend probably needed to breathe. You got off of him as quickly as you could on your trembling legs.

“ Are you okay, Shiggy? I didn’t mean to suffocate you: it just felt so good that I lost control…”

Shigaraki quickly sat up. He was doing great: just had the best nut of his entire life, got his head squeezed and his hair pulled, and he was going to lose his virginity to the girl he had pined over for nearly his entire life. How could he be doing anything other than amazing?!

“ I'm good.”

You looked at the mess all over his chest. How was it even possible to cum that much and still be hard? Was that just how much there always was? Did he need to see a doctor?

While the gears turned in your head, Tomura grabbed a shirt from the floor and wiped himself off, tossing the soiled fabric away once he was done. The sheer nastiness of that snapped you out of your confused state. You were about to say something when he beat you to it.

“ What position do you want to do?”

“Huh?”

“Y’know, like doggy, or cowgirl, or wheelbarrow-”

You didn’t think wheelbarrow was an actual position, but you really didn’t want to get into another argument right now. You were gonna call him out on it later, though.

“ I’d like to do missionary.”

Tomura nodded sagely. Missionary was a classic. A bit basic, but it would do.

“If you’re ready, let’s move on to the next level”

You nodded, too nervous to speak. He shuffled slowly towards you, hands shaking and arms outstretched. He needed to be cool about this: he came on a bit strong after your proposal earlier. You laid on your back and resisted the urge to cover your face with your hands. You had wanted this for such a long time, but he was just so big and he was seeing you naked and he was actually kind of muscular without his clothes on and- for fucks sake was he seriously drooling again?!

Shigaraki quickly wiped the drool away from his mouth. You were just so beautiful. You looked scared,though-was it the drooling? He couldn’t help that! He started to scratch his neck- a habit that he just couldn’t seem to break. Even if it meant that he wasn’t going to get to have sex today, he needed to make sure that you still wanted this.

“ Are you okay? We can… we can stop i-

“NO! I mean- n-no, I’m fine. Just- just be gentle, okay?

Gentle. He could do that. Just go slow, don’t go in all the way, and probably no biting. Wait, didn’t he need a condom? It must not be that big of a deal if you didn’t bother to bring it up, right? Yeah, he could just pull out.

Tomura grabbed the base of his cock and lined it at your entrance before carefully pushing inside of you. It didn’t hurt nearly as bad as you thought it would: it just stung a little bit. You had expected ripping, bleeding pain before seeing his dick, and kind of assumed you would die after seeing it in all it’s terrifying glory. But no! You were alive and thriving.

Your partner in crime, however, was having a significantly harder time. Your pussy made his fleshlight feel like sandpaper in comparison: he considered burning the stupid peice of silicone after you two were done for being so inferior to the real thing. The fleshlight wasn’t this tight, or this warm, and it didn’t twitch like your pussy did. He honestly felt kind of bad for the times that he used it while thinking of you- not for jacking off to you or anything like that, but for using that piece of shit as a stand-in. It was insulting. Shigaraki figured that it probably wasn’t the best idea to put it in all the way in,but it was taking every ounce of his self-control to not just slam in balls-deep and fuck you into the mattress.

….. Was he okay? There was a vein bulging on his forehead and he looked damn-near terrified. You were going to have to make the first move again. You put your hands on his waist and pulled him towards you until his hips were flush with yours. Despite the slow entrance, his cock hitting your cervix still knocked the air out of you. It hurt a bit more now, but not nearly enough to stop.

“ I-it’s okay Shiggy, it doesn’t hurt. You can move now..”

Tomura cautiously pulled backwards a few inches and pressed back inside just as carefully. His first couple of thrusts were a bit awkward, but he soon found a slow, steady rhythm.

You couldn’t believe how soft he was being. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your collar bone before moving to your breasts, licking your nipple before putting it in his mouth and sucking. His other hand was lightly caressing the opposing mound. It was all so sweet and tender that you almost wanted to cry: you knew that he didn’t feel the same way that you did. But for now, all you could do was stroke his hair and pretend that you were making love instead of just hooking up.

“Mmmmn, T-tomur-ah!”

This wasn’t fair! He had liked you for years, you were gasping and moaning underneath him, but something unpleasant was still prodding at the back of his thoughts. After this, you were going to find some strong, confident man to take his place. This was just practice. Shigaraki didn’t want this to be practice: he wanted you to be his last. He wanted to be your only. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and started to thrust into you harder. He wanted you to be all his.

“ Mmmineeee...”

Mine?! Did he just say “mine”?! Did he- did he feel the same way?! No, that couldn't be: you probably just misheard him.

“ um, w-what did you say?”

He snapped his head up and glared at you, his ruby eyes practically glowing.

“ I said mine! I want you to be mine! MY player two, MY pussy,MINE!”

With every repeat of mine he slammed into you a little harder, a little rougher.

“Come on, say it! Say you’ll be mine, (Y/N)!

You felt like such an idiot. Of course Tomura wasn’t going to say that he liked you- this was Tomura you were talking about. But he’d been showing it for years- walking you home, helping you win plushies at the arcade, dying on purpose so you would get a chance to play, giving you his hoodie whenever it was cold out…. How did you not notice? But he was never going to take the final step. So as per usual, it was up to you to take initiative. You put your hand on his cheek and smiled when he nuzzled into your touch.

“ I love you, Tomura. I’ve always been yours.”

He froze at your confession. Oh shit, did you go too far? Was the whole “mine” thing just his idea of dirty talk? Shigaraki pulled out and moved backwards. Just as you were about to say something, he grabbed your knees and moved your legs up until they were above your head. Was he seriously going to just ignore what you just said?! You just told him that you loved him, for fucks sake! Did all the blood rushing to his dick leave him braindead?

Shigaraki knew the look on your face well: narrowed eyes, pursed lips, puffed cheeks. Impatient and suspicious. He’d better not keep you waiting,then. He positioned himself so that his cock was dangling above your exposed hole and leaned in close until you two were nose to nose.

“ I love you too, (Y/N).”

With your confession returned, he slammed into your waiting cunt in one quick thrust, groaning as he was finally balls-deep inside of your warm,slick pussy. You squealed as he jackrabbited into your core with short, deep thrusts, hitting a spot inside that you’d never been able to reach. The headboard of the bed crashed against the wall loudly, creating a lewd orchestra alongside the squeaking of the bedsprings and your wanton moans. Tomura’s hair fell alongside your face in a soft curtain, making it so he was the only thing you could see. As if you’d look anywhere else.

“ I love you! I love you! I mean it, I love you! You’re gorgeous, you feel so good, I love you! I love you so fucking much! I love you! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveIloveyouIloveyou-”

You pulled your babbling lover into a deep kiss as the knot inside of your stomach snapped. Your convulsing walls squeezed his cock in a vice grip as you came, nearly sending him over the edge .

“ C-can I cum inside? I don’t wanna pull out! I swear I’ll take responsibility if you get pre- i-if anything happens! Please, let me cum inside of you!”

You could barely think through your haze, so you just nodded your head. Of course he could cum inside: where else was it supposed to go? He wasn’t wearing a condom after all… you probably should’ve made him wear one. Oh well. That was a problem for future (Y/N) to worry about.

Tomura wrapped his arms around your waist and thrusted his hips one more time before

Blowing his load directly into your womb, spurt after spurt of creamy white filling you to the brim, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he howled with pleasure.

“Hhhhhhhhh…. I love youuuu…..”

He let out a contented sigh and flopped on top of you without bothering to take his cock out of your cum-filled pussy. He was too tired- he’d pull out after a nap. You were just as exhausted as he was- cleanup was just another issue future (Y/N) would have to deal with. You yawned and nuzzled into his neck before drifting into a peaceful, messy sleep.

End

_______________________________________

I wrote this after a debate with @libiraki about who’s dick was worse: Shigaraki or Dabi’s.

#i wrote it like a month after but still #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #smut #its nasty boy shig hours who tf is up #shiggy smut #childhood friends to lovers #quirkless au

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Eunoia - Harry Styles

a/n: i’ve been meaning to write a piece filled with just fluffy, domestic moments through a relationship, and that’s when i created Flora in my mind. wrote it with an OC bc i had very specific traits and stuff in my mind about her and it didn’t feel right to write it with y/n but feel free to read however you’d like it! but i think Flora is a delightful girl, she is a teacher and a free spirit, i think you’ll like her!

pairing: Harry x OC (Floortje ‘Flora’ Hoven)

word count: 9.5k

masterlist

Eunoia (n.) Beautiful thinking: a well mind.

Harry is always looking forward to times when his days aren’t filled from morning to midnight, traveling all around the world, meeting dozens of new people at various new meetings. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the buzz his life comes with, but one can drive this lifestyle only for a while before getting tired. He now appreciates his calm periods, when he is not living out of his suitcase, he has the time to drop by a café and enjoy his morning coffee sitting down instead of grabbing it in a go-to cup and chugging it down in his car. When he can just take a walk when the weather is nice enough and his favorite is when he has the time to just look at things without a rush and appreciate them.

He has built up a habit of going to the same coffee place since he got off tour and jumped right into his well-deserved months off filled with meditation, resting and focusing on himself after giving so much for the world. It’s just two corners down his place, falling perfectly into his way to the gym and now he even has a favorite table in the corner, because it gives him a great view of the place but the vines hanging from the ceiling masks his presence enough that people don’t often notice him there, providing some privacy for his morning coffee.

It was his third day here when he first noticed her. She was sitting at the table by the window, near the door, deep in a book, another pile waiting for her on the free seat next to her as she intensely made notes of her reading. She had her wild, curly hair in a puffy bun on the top of her head, clearly just thrown into it haphazardly when she started working. Her ivory frame glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose and thy seemed a bit too big for her face, but they overall fit perfectly with her knitted sweater and dungarees. And Harry couldn’t look over the fact that she had little sunflowers painted on her nails. That instantly made him smile as he adorned her from afar.

As the days passed and Harry spent almost all his morning at the same spot, he started seeing or more like noticing her more often. She always sat at the same table and Harry figured it was because of the natural lighting coming through the windows that came in handy, because she was always either reading and making notes, or doing something crafty, mostly origami, he noticed. She often had her laptop open with tutorials on different origami works that she was trying to make herself, not always succeeding, but she got it right most of the time, a triumphant smile plastering across her face every time she finished a piece, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling whenever she held up the finished work and adorned what she just created. He often wondered what happened to the little creations afterwards, but she just usually shoved them into her backpack before leaving.

By the fifth or sixth time he has seen her, he already knew her order. Vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Large sized, of course, so she has something to sip on while she typed away on her laptop or finished reading another book.

Harry caught himself looking for her on mornings when he didn’t see her, which were usually Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, but one Wednesday, when he had an early meeting for a change with his team, he arrived before 8 am into the place and for his biggest surprise, there she was, sitting at her usual table, drinking the same drink as always. Later, Harry found himself coming earlier on those days just to find her there yet again and he figured her work schedule must start earlier on those days.

As the days went by Harry started to play with the thought of walking up to her. He wondered if she has noticed him as well, but it seemed like even if she did, his presence didn’t impress or bother her at all which just irked his curiosity about her even more. But every time he thought about finally talking to her, he decided against it, feeling like he would just be an intruder in her morning sessions. Until one day, the chance was handed to him on a silver plate.

She is doing origami once again on this particular day, making little cranes, one after the other, using different colored papers to make them form out a mess rainbow on her table. It’s a quiet morning, only a few more people sitting around at place. It’s been quite windy the past couple of days and today seems to be the worst, the trees are being tossed around by the howling winds outside, but it just makes it even cozier to sit inside in the warmth, enjoying a nice hot drink.

Harry finds himself watching her intently as her delicate fingers work on the paper, one crane following the other, she is starting to have a whole army of them.

An older man walks into the café and as he opens the door wide, the wind is quick to run into the place, knocking over everything that’s not heavy enough to stay still and the paper cranes are the first ones to start flying off the table.

“No! Darn it!” she gasps, her hands grabbing after them, saving just a few, but most end up on the floor, somersaulting away from her table. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and come to her rescue, lending her a pair of helping hands as she gathers her creations. “Oh, thank you!” she breathes out softly, her eyes meeting his and for his biggest surprise… she doesn’t seem to be stunned or even surprised by him, as if she doesn’t know who he is.

Maybe she doesn’t, it’s a possibility, he tells himself, smiling at her as he collects the cranes from the floor.

“Guess they wanted to be free,” he jokes, setting them on the table with the rest.

“It wasn’t my brightest idea to do it on such a windy day near the door,” she chuckles, looking over the bunch she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.

“May I ask why you need so many paper cranes?” Harry inquires, leaving out the part that he’s been watching her do her origami for weeks now.

“Oh, I want to make decorations out of them, hang them up in my classroom. I’m a teacher,” she adds smiling.

That’s the most fitting job he could ever imagine for her, she is definitely the cool and adored teacher every kid is obsessed with.

“Wow, and how many do you need?” he asks, the stack of paper at the edge of the table looks quite a lot and he wonders if she wants to use them all for the cranes.

“Well, as many as I can make before my fingers fall off,” she jokes. Harry notices her freckles from up close that have been hidden behind her glasses until now. Her hair is in two space buns today and she is wearing a striped shirt with light-washed jeans and colorful sneakers. The sunflowers are gone from her nails, replaced by tiny daisies, but Harry likes them just as much as the previous flowers. They fit her well.

“Do you… I would love to help, if you want,” he finds himself offering, not even thinking about the question before it slips his mouth.

“You sure?” she asks, seemingly surprised but she definitely doesn’t find it weird that he just offered to help her.

“Yeah. Looks really calming and I haven’t made one in so long. Want to see if I still remember the steps,” he smiles.

“Take a seat then,” she nods, returning his smile. Harry goes back to his table to grab his stuff and join her.

“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself as he takes the empty chair at her table, holding out his hand for her that she gladly takes.

“Floortje, but everyone just calls me Flora,” she smiles.

“Never heard that name, what’s the origin of it?”

“It’s Dutch. My dad is Dutch, he came up with the name as well and my mother liked it. It means little flower, nothing grandiose,” she chuckles, reaching for another paper to start her next crane.

“Do you have a Dutch last name as well?” he asks, but then realizes she might not feel comfortable sharing her full name just yet. “You don’t have to tell me your last name though, if you don’t want to.”

“It’s alright,” she chuckles. “It’s Hoven, which is Dutch, but you pronounce it pretty much the same as you’d if it was a simple English word, just with a softer V in the middle,” she explains, her fingers working easily and fast on the thin paper, the crane is already starting to form. Harry reaches for a paper himself and tries to recollect his memory of the steps.

“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”

“Yes, I was born in Eindhoven, but we moved here when I was five. But my Dutch is still just fine, luckily. My dad refused to talk to me in English when we moved, he said he won’t have his daughter forget her mother tongue just because he is getting paid more here,” she explains with a soft chuckle as she finishes up the crane, putting it to the pile.

“I always envied bilingual people. Must be great to speak two languages that easily,” Harry wonders, eyes fixed on the paper as he is trying his best with the crane. It’s slowly coming together, though it’s not as pretty as Flora’s.

“It’s not that fun when I suddenly forget a word in one of the languages and then spend twenty minutes trying to remember when I know for a fact I know the words, it’s just stuck on my tongue.”

Harry laughs, finishing up his creation, holding it up and Flora looks at it as well. It’s a little crooked and one of its wings is longer than the other, but overall, it’s a decent first one.

“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” he chuckles, putting it to the others.

“What are you talking about? It looks great!” she smiles, taking it into her hand, looking at it from all angles, smiling widely as she places it back to its peers. “It’s a nice one, and after all, it’s not your job to make cranes, so you’re fine,” she jokes.

Harry reaches for another paper as he thinks about if she knows him. Does she know what his job really is? Not that he expects everyone to know him, but she seems his age and it’s been quite impossible for him to meet someone close in age to him and not know a thing about him.

“Yeah, origami is definitely not my job,” he hums and then adds: “You… know what my job is?”

Flora glances up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“Is this your way of trying to find out if I know you or not?” she smirks, tilting her head to the side, and it’s already a giveaway that she is very much aware of who she is sitting at a table with.

“I know, it was lame,” he huffs awkwardly.

“No, it was alright. And to answer your question, I do know what your job is, Harry Styles,” she replies.

“Sorry for asking around about it, you just seemed so casual and unbothered when you saw me, I thought you have no idea who I am.”

“I’m a teacher, my job is to treat everyone the same, I take equality very seriously. I don’t want my kids to think I put any of them above the rest, but I do the same outside of school too. Or do you want me to gasp and stutter now that you are sitting here?” she teases him making him laugh.

“That’s not needed at all.”

They work on their cranes in a comfortable silence and just as Harry thought, it’s quite relaxing, his thoughts slowly clear out, only focusing on the little birds he is creating. Then he glances up at Flora and suddenly his thoughts are filled with her once again. Now is his chance with her, he doesn’t want to leave this café without at least asking for her number even when he knows that he will surely see her around, just like always.

“Can I ask you something?” he speaks up as they both keep folding the colorful papers.

“Of course.”

“I hope I won’t sound creepy or something, but I’ve seen you around a lot and noticed how much you read. Is that just your hobby or…?”

“First of all it’s not creepy that you have noticed me, it’s flattering, because I have noticed you as well,” she smiles, paying him a quick glance.

“Really? I had a feeling you haven’t even seen me.”

“I did, but I thought you come here for the same reason as I do; to have some peace for yourself.”

“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.

“But to answer your question, I’m working on my second degree.”

“Oh, what’s that about?”

“Special education, speech therapy to be exact,” she tells him and Harry is even more stunned by her. Education is already a field not many can handle and then there is Flora, who didn’t just take up on it, she jumped right into it, pursuing a second degree in special education, a hard and challenging part of this job.

“Any particular reason why you chose it?”

“I have a younger brother, he is ten years younger than me, so he was already born here, but he was taught Dutch too. However, it wasn’t as easy for him as it was for me to speak two languages at the same time and he has developed some speech errors. Nothing major, but it was enough for him to be bullied in school. I saw his face every day when he came home and lied to our parents that everything is fine but then he cried to me in my room when they weren’t around. I don’t want any other kids to go through that, I’d love to be the one to not just help them come over their speech errors but also make sure they are treated the same way as everyone else.”

Harry hasn’t even noticed that he stopped working on his crane, he is now staring at her in awe, completely stunned by her. The more he learns about her the more he thinks she is a literal angel sent from above and that he can’t let her slip from his hands.

Flora looks up at him and finds him staring, a blush appearing on her full cheeks.

“Sorry for staring, but I just… this is so beautiful. Your passion about education is just one of a kind, truly. And the way how you made it your whole career and everything, I’m just… blown away,” he admits.

“Well, you made a career out of your passion too, didn’t you?” she chuckles softly.

“I did, but your story is just a little more touching,” he smirks. “Flora, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been meaning to come up to you for a while and now that we officially met, I just—I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better.”

She blushes again and Harry notes how well the pinky shade fits her even if she probably wishes she could control it more.

“That would be lovely,” she smiles shyly and grabbing a crane from her pile she grabs a pen from her bag and writes her number to the wing of it before handing it over to Harry.

He loves that she could have easily just typed it into his phone, yet she chose to do it this way. He smiles down at the crane and puts it into his bag, securing it as if it was his biggest treasure.

When Flora opens her door for Harry she is still wearing her apron that’s filled with tulips, a pair of simple jeans underneath it with a bright yellow shirt. Harry smiles as he leans down and greets her with a soft kiss. Ever since their first kiss he has been obsessed with stealing one whenever he has the chance. Their first one was nothing grandiose, such a simple and mundane moment but for him, it was perfect. They were visiting a gallery, he chose the exhibition hoping she’ll be a fan of it since the theme was botany, all paintings connected to flowers, gardens and plants and he was right. Flora was stunned, fascinated by each painting as they stopped at one after the other, taking their time to adore the works. They were looking at a painted garden filled with colorful wildflowers around a small cottage in the distance. Flora’s eyes wandered over all the tiny details as Harry stood close to her. She then leaned closer to point out her favorite flower and once they realized just how close their faces were, he just easily closed the gap and kissed her softly, surrounded with art, but he was convinced she was his favorite masterpiece he has ever seen.

“Hi, sorry, I’m a little late, dinner is not ready yet,” she huffs letting him inside. “Had to stay at the school a little longer than expected.”

“Don’t worry. Can I help with anything?” he asks following her into the kitchen, putting the bottle of wine he brought into the fridge to keep it cool until dinner.

“No, it’s fine. I just need about fifteen minutes to finish up the veggies,” she smiles at him and tiptoeing she steals a quick kiss. Harry hasn’t been the only one obsessed with kisses. “Make yourself home.”

Harry leaves to use the bathroom quickly and on his way back he finds himself wandering into her bedroom. He has been in her home just a few times before, only spending short minutes here when he was picking her up but now he has time to actually look around, hoping she won’t mind him snooping around.

Her whole place is just as colorful as she is always, each piece of furniture a different style and color, yet fitting so well when you see it as a whole. The quilted patchwork blanket over her bed is definitely homemade, each patch has a different flower on it while the left lower corner has Floortje embroidered into it. Harry wonders if it was made by a friend or family member, either way, it’s surely a special piece.

Her dresser is cluttered with rings, perfumes and endless amount of hair ties. She has complained before that her hair stretches her elastics out so fast, she keeps buying new ones every month. The little armchair in the corner is covered with a few of her used clothes, ones she’ll wear once more before putting them into the laundry basket.

As he walks over to her nightstand that’s filled with books, at least seven piled on each other, his eyes stop over something that makes his heart flutter.

A crooked little paper crane is sitting on the edge of the nightstand, the one he made the first time they talked, to be exact. Harry takes the bird and looks at it in awe, surprised that she kept it to herself. However he doesn’t find it odd, not even a little bit, since he has also kept the one she wrote her phone number onto, it’s sitting on his desk in his study.

“Found something interesting?” Flora walks in and Harry’s head whips towards her, feeling like he was just caught. But the warm smile on her lips is a telltale sign that she doesn’t mind him looking around.

“You kept it,” he states matter-of-factly, holding up the paper bird.

“Of course I did,” she nods, walking closer. “It’s a special one.”

“Thought you treat everyone and everything the same,” he teases smiling as he puts the crane back, his hands finding her waist.

“I guess there are a few exceptions,” she smirks slyly, her hands running up on his arms until they reach the base of his neck.

“Am I an exception?” The corners of his mouth curl up as he places the bird back on her nightstand and circle his arms around her waist.

“Did I say that?” she teases him. “I think I called your work a special one.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be hurt at her words, but he can’t push the growing smile back from his lips. They’ve been seeing each other for only over a month, but it was enough time to make him completely hooked on her. He is amazed by her in every possible way, feeling like he could never get enough of the ray of sunshine that Flora is. His favorite thing is that she makes him feel so normal, just an average guy dating a girl he met at a café. Not once did she treat him any different because of what he is and it’s just the feeling Harry has been looking for for such a long time.

“Come on, dinner is ready,” she smiles, pecking his lips before peeling his arms off of her frame, taking his hand as she pulls him out of the bedroom, however they surely end up in there again sometime after dinner, but with way less clothes on.

Harry watches as Flora plays with the bubbles in front of her, picking some foam up into her hair, watching it move around on her wet palm before blowing on it gently, her delicate fingers poking at the small bubbles that escaped from it. His hands are caressing her sides under the warm water that was once hot when they first got into it about an hour ago.

It’s been a lazy Sunday, Flora arrived early in the morning and went plant shopping. Her home has always been filled with plants and Harry has grown a liking to all the greenery, wanted some more in his house as well and Flora was more than happy to help him pick out the ones that are the easiest to take care of. Then they cooked lunch together, watched a movie and cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen before running the bath. Harry has been loving these domestic days, lounging around his or her home, wearing comfy clothes and not caring about much of the outside words, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Remind me to buy peanut butter the next time I’m going grocery shopping,” she speaks up, leaning further back against his chest while Harry rests his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist under the layer of bubbles.

“What do you need it for?” he hums, nudging her hair with his nose, her curls ticking his face, but he doesn’t mint it.

“I want to make cupcakes for the kids next week.”

“What for? Is there gonna be a special occasion?”

“No, they’ve just been super nice lately, we set up some new rules in the classroom and they’ve been really good following them.” Harry hums, loving how she is so eager to treat her students, he is convinced she is easily the best teacher he has ever came across.

“So peanut butter, huh? I think I need some too. Been dying to eat a good burger with some peanut butter.”

“I cannot believe you put peanut butter into your burgers,” she chuckles, peeking at him over her shoulder.

“Don’t bash it when you haven’t even tried!” he defends himself, kissing her cheek softly.

“The Aztecs would be so disappointed,” she sighs turning back forward, so she doesn’t see the puzzled look on Harry’s face.

“The Aztecs?”

“Yeah, they technically invented peanut butter,” she nods, as if it was common knowledge.

“Do I want to know why you know this about the history of peanut butter?” he chuckles softly.

“Well I had this kid last year who was obsessed with it and I started looking up fun facts for him for mornings when he looked a little moody. Then the others started enjoying it too so it became our morning thing that I told them a fun fact about anything.”

“Oh really? Tell me one then!” he asks smirking, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Okay, um…” she thinks to herself. “Do you know what the Olympic rings stand for?”

“I do not,” he shakes his head.

“The five rings stand for the five inhabited continents of the world, united by Olympism.”

“Sounds logical,” Harry nods. “Tell me another one,” he asks.

“Are you going to make me tell you all my fun facts?” she chuckles, turning a little so she can look into his beautiful green eyes.

“Maybe. I like it when you talk like this,” he smirks playfully.

“Like what?”

“Like… smart. I love how you know all these little things about the world and teach it to not just the kids but to me as well.”

“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”

“Why would I?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed.

“I used to be picked on in middle school because I liked to learn, more than what was required.”

“That doesn’t make you a smartass, baby. You don’t go around, correcting every tiny mistake around you. You use your knowledge to educate, like you should.”

Flora smiles softly at him, his words bringing the sense of reassurance she’s been seeking for so long. She pecks his lips shortly before turning back forward.

“Do you know how many days a billion seconds make up?” she asks, smiling to herself.

“I don’t.”

“11 574 days. That’s a little over 31 years.”

“So I haven’t lived a billion seconds in my life just yet,” Harry states, doing the quick math.

“No, you haven’t,” she smiles, mostly at the fact that he didn’t just listen to her little fun fact, but also thought about it a bit deeper.

They stay in the bath until the water gets cold and Harry keeps asking for fun facts and Flora gladly tells him whatever comes to her mind.

Harry finishes up the fresh salad, filled with Flora’s favorites: cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and corn with some kale, baby spinach and garlic dressing. He even sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, now he is pretty proud of his work, it looks like something influencers would snap in an aesthetic photo to their Instagram feed.

His bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to Flora’s bedroom where she is still curled up on her chair in front of her computer, her hair in a mess on top of her head, glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t moved much from the spot in hours, intensely working on her thesis that should be finalized within the next two weeks. She has been gradually working on it over the last few months, in no mean she is behind, but she’s been extra nervous about making it as good as she wanted it when she started and Harry has been nothing but supporting about it, knowing how much it means to her. So he’s been her moral support, making sure she eats, gets some rest and doesn’t get herself too worked up about her research. She appreciates his efforts and though she often feels bad for neglecting him lately, he made sure to assure her, he’ll be right here when she is finally done with it.

Harry walks around the mountain of books on the floor she has piled up from the library these past two weeks as he walks up behind her while her fingers type away on her computer so fast he can barely believe she even understands what she’s typing.

“Hey,” he softly calls out, leaning down he kisses her cheek, holding the bowl of salad in front of her, drabbing her attention, making her gaze move from the screen to the food in front of her.

“Oh, hey! Is this for me?” she asks with a soft smile, lifting her head so she can look at him. Even with the circles under her eyes, the messy hair and worn out t-shirt that she’s wearing, he thinks she is the most wonderful creature he has ever seen.

“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”

She doesn’t protest, just saves the file before moving away from the desk to the bed along with Harry. She props herself up against the headboard, a tired moan escaping her lips as her spine rests against the pillows under her back. Harry hands her the salad and she digs right into it, only just now realizing that she’s been feeling hungry for the past two hours, but ignored it entirely.

“How much do you have left?” Harry asks nodding towards the computer.

“I’m finishing up the last part, then I just have to write the abstract and then…” she explains, popping a tomato in her mouth. “It’s just gonna be the formatting. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday.”

“That’s great,” he smiles proudly. He has always admired how hardworking she’s been when it came to school and her profession. He could never imagine himself do the same, especially because he didn’t even finish high school. He used to feel a little self-conscious about it when they first started dating, afraid that she might think less of him because he didn’t finish his education properly, even though it was never something that bothered him. But Flora assured him that it makes absolutely no difference in her opinion about him.

“It’s not about the papers or how many schools you’ve finished. It’s about how you see the world and if you are willing to learn when it changes around you. And I think you are perfect in that department, your curiosity and openness makes you an excellent learner,” she told him without even thinking about it.

Harry lies on his side next to her, one hand propping his head up while the other one wanders to her thigh, massaging it gently. She hums to herself, enjoying the food he made and he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. He loves taking care of her, especially because most of the times it’s her that takes care of him. Cooking for him after a long day at the studio, putting his laundry away while he is in an online meeting or writing him a list for when he goes grocery shopping, Flora has been watching out for him through these little things, but now it’s finally his turn to give it all back.

He’s been thinking about asking her to move in with him for a few weeks now, he just hasn’t been brave enough to bring it up, thinking that she might find it too early for such a big step, seeing that the two of them have been dating for a little over nine months. He’s been playing with the thought of coming home to her every single day, waking up next to her in the mornings, watch her form his home more to her liking, creating a space for the both of them, making it a home not just for him but her as well.

As she finishes up her salad, completely oblivious to what Harry is thinking about, he decides to bring it up once she is done with her thesis, not wanting to bother her in any possible way until she is finished.

“Mm, this was lifesaving, thank you,” she sighs, leaning over she kisses him softly as her appreciation for the sweet gesture. “I’ll finish up this one paragraph I’m in the middle of and then we could watch a movie. But strictly without subs, because I’m done with words for today,” she jokes, making him laugh as he takes the empty bowl from her hands.

“Sounds good,” he nods. “I’ll clean up in the kitchen and find something to watch while you finish.”

“Thank you.” As they both get up from the bed, she pulls him down for another kiss, Harry’s free hand finding the small of her back right away. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, his heart fluttering in his chest at the words he has heard before, but it never fails to stun him.

“I love you too. Now go, finish it so we can cuddle,” he smiles, smacking her bum gently before they let go of each other.

“Ja, pappa. Dat klinkt fantastisch. Ik zal het hem vragen. Ja.” Yes, dad. That sounds fantastic. I’ll ask him. Yes.

Harry listens to Flora talk to her father on the phone as she applies her lip balm, the one she uses every night before going to bed. He loves it when she talks in Dutch, many tend to criticize the language, but not Harry. Or maybe it’s just because he only hears Flora talk it and he loves everything she does.

“Ja, dat is goed. Dank je. Tot ziens, pappa, ik hou van je!” Yes, that’s great. Thank you. See you soon, dad, love you!

She ends the call and switches the light off in the bathroom that’s been not just Harry’s but hers since she officially moved in with him just last week. Harry finally built up the courage to ask her opinion about the possibility of living together in the near future once she was free from the worries of her research and thesis. For his biggest surprise, she was on the exact same page as him, definitely a fan of the idea. So three weeks later they started slowly moving all her stuff over to his until her apartment completely emptied out. Now all her belongings are splattered across Harry’s home, they haven’t found the perfect place for everything just yet, but it’s slowly starting to feel like home for the both of them.

“Dad called, asked if we would go over for dinner this weekend,” she tells him, moving around the bedroom as she takes her little hoop earrings off, placing them in the shell she uses as a jewelry holder on top of the dresser. She is wearing a pair of yellow sweatpants with one of Harry’s shirts, nothing underneath them, just how Harry loves it.

“It’s cute how you always tell me it was your dad, but he is the only one you speak Dutch with,” he chuckles lowly as she climbs to bed, pulling the covers over the both of them.

“It comes so naturally, I don’t even realize I’m switching languages,” she admits smiling.

“Dinner sounds lovely,” he nods, getting back to what she was talking about before.

“Arnold is bringing his girlfriend too,” she smirks, her eyes sparkling from excitement.

“Your brother has a girlfriend now?” he hums, eyebrows rising at the new information.

“It’s the girl I saw him with at his basketball game last month. They made it official like two weeks ago.”

“And he is already bringing her home? He is not beating around the bush,” he chuckles. “Is it going to be the first time the girl meets your parents?”

“Yeah, so it’s gonna be exciting,” she nods, cuddling to his side.

Flora is playing with the little cross pendant on Harry’s chest and he is watching her delicate fingers flipping it over, her fingertips tickling his chest a little in the process.

“When we have kids, will you also teach them Dutch?” he suddenly questions, the words just blurting out of his mouth. Flora lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks into his curious eyes. She stays silent, but a small smile is tugging on her lips for sure.

“What?” he asks, feeling a little nervous. It’s the first time he is bringing having kids up, but he definitely has been thinking about it, especially since she has moved in. They haven’t been dating for that long, but Harry is one hundred percent sure he is in the long run with her.

“I just… love how you said when and not if.”

“Well, it’s a question of when for me. What about you?”

“Same goes for me,” she smiles warmly. “And yes, I do want my children to speak Dutch. It’s important to my family and me as well. How does that sit with you?”

“Totally fine. In fact, I always envied kids growing up who were taught another language so early in their childhood. Would love that for my kids as well.”

“Dan is het geregeld,” she smiles widely at him.

“What’s that mean?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I said that, then it’s settled. We’ll have some cute, bilingual babies,” she chuckles, half jokingly, half seriously.

Today has just been one of those days that were doomed from the moment Harry opened his eyes. He has been overwhelmed with stress lately, working on new music, but his studio sessions haven’t been as successful as he wanted them. He is also flying out to LA for two weeks in just a couple of days and he has to miss Flora’s mom’s birthday this weekend, which has been torturing him with guilt ever since he found out he can’t push his trip back.

This morning it felt like the universe just plotted against him. He slipped in the shower, broke a glass in the kitchen and successfully ripped one of his favorite jeans when he was getting dressed. He had a one way ticket cranky city, turning Harry into a moody little child. It didn’t take him long until he started a fight with Flora over the smallest, most ridiculous thing. It started with how Flora misplaced a bowl in the cabinet and took him two moments longer to find it than usual, then they ended up disputing about every little thing about each other they’ve been finding annoying, but neither of them voiced their feelings about them.

Flora, on the other hand, was not in the mood to argue with Harry so early on a Tuesday morning and she chose to just walk away and let him stew in his own anger. Harry knew the moment he heard the front door shut that she was mad at him: she didn’t kiss him goodbye like she does every day before she leaves.

He took a cold shower to cool him down and clear his head, get his thoughts straight so he can apologize like she deserves. Getting into his car he drives to the florist he usually goes to when he needs flowers for whatever occasions. The old lady greets him with a warm smile and upon describing what he envisioned, she immediately knows what to create for him this time. The result is a giant, colorful bouquet that reminds him of Flora in every possible means.

Driving down to her school he is met with an extreme amount of nostalgia even though it’s not even the school he went to as a kid, but it still brings back some memories.

The security guard immediately stops him when he walks into the building, but once he has explained him the situation, the old guy gladly tells him which classroom is hers so he can go and surprise her. His footsteps echo in the empty hallways as it is the middle of the second period, all students are locked up in their classrooms, lucky for Harry, because he surely can’t deal with teenage girls recognizing him right now. Holding the flowers in one hand he stops when he finds room 414 and he can hear Flora’s voice coming from inside, enthusiastically explaining something about penguins and it makes Harry smile.

Even with such a horrible morning behind her, she is still giving one hundred for her students. He brings up his hand and softly knocks on the door, interrupting her speech.

“Come in!” she calls out and Harry opens the door, popping his head inside first, then holding up the bouquet of flowers, making the kids start chattering in excitement at his arrival while Flora is staring at him shocked.

“Miss Hoven, do you have a moment for me, please?” he asks with a shy but charming smile. She quickly gains back control over her features before turning to her class.

“Please start working on task two and five, I’ll be right back,” she orders, but the chatter doesn’t die down so she raises her voice at them. “This is not how we act when we have guests, guys!”

The kids are quick to quiet themselves, eyes curiously switching between their teacher and the intruder at the door.

“Miss Hoven, is this your husband?” one of the kids, a little blond boy asks.

“No, Michael, he is not. Harry is my boyfriend,” she answers calmly, heading towards the door.

“Wait, I know him!” a girl exclaims gasping. “He sings the watermelon song!”

“Lilian, no discussion now. Do the tasks!” Flora tells her before walking out, but keeping the door open so she can hear what’s happening inside. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide when she finally looks at Harry again. “What’s—What’s this?”

“These are for you,” he clears his throat, handing her the bouquet. “And I came here to apologize for being such an arsehole this morning. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been crankier lately and I took it all out on you. I’m very sorry.”

Flora’s eyes soften on him as she takes one of his hands with her free one, giving it a squeeze.

“I said some nasty stuff too, so I guess I’m sorry too,” she sighs, her anger and frustration from earlier now long gone.

“I brought that out of you, so I’ll take the blame,” Harry chuckles softly. “But the point is that I’m sorry.”

“Well, you are forgiven. You were even before you came here,” she assures him smiling warmly. “Why don’t we order something tonight and just get lazy on the couch?”

“You said you have some tests to go through.”

“That can wait. You’re leaving in two days so I want to spend time with you.”

“So we won’t get our tests back tomorrow?” they both hear a muffled voice coming from inside and Flora chuckles shaking her head as she opens the door wider and steps inside. A small group of kids run back to their seats, but not fast enough to not get caught.

“Lilian, would you mind telling me why you left your seat without permission?” Flora questions the girl who just rolls her lips into her mouth, pretending like she hasn’t even moved all along. Flora sighs stepping outside once again. “I gotta go now, but thank you for this. They look beautiful,” she tells Harry.

“I love you,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses her quickly, feeling like he is breaking rules even though he is not a student or a teacher here.

“I love you too,” she smiles back before walking back inside and shutting the door. Harry stays for a minute, just out of curiosity to hear if the kids ask her some more questions about him.

“Miss Hoven?” a girl calls out and Harry bets it’s the same nosy girl who recognized him.

“Yes, Lilian?”

“You have a nice boyfriend,” she exclaims, earning a soft chuckle from Flora.

“Well thank you, Lilian, but let’s get back to our new unit. Let’s see the tasks you had to solve!”

The splashing sound of vomit arriving to the toilet hits Harry’s ears once again as he is rushing up the stairs with a glass of water and the Emetrol his hands that he dug the kitchen cabinets through for. Arriving to the master bathroom he finds Flora just where he left a few minutes ago, kneeling in front of the toilet, arms on the rim as she is taking a deep breath, hoping to calm her stomach and stop throwing up finally.

“Oh baby, here. Found you some Emetrol, this should help,” he coos gently, sitting down to the marble floor next to her he places the water beside him as he pours some of the liquid medicine into the cap for her. She lifts her head, skin pale as the wall, the dark circles under her eyes make his stomach churn, he hates to see her in this condition and wishes he could just help her.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, her shaking hand takes the cup and she downs the medicine before taking a few sips from the water. “Harry, I’m so sorry for ruining our date,” she sighs in defeat.

“Oh shush. Don’t you dare apologize for being sick,” he shakes his head, putting the Emetrol aside before he towers above her to redo her hair so it doesn’t fall to her face. Today marks their one year anniversary and though they only planned to go out for a nice dinner, nothing extra, Flora still feels bad they had to cancel on their reservation when she started throwing up this afternoon. She’s been feeling nauseous ever since she ate that leftover casserole for lunch. She had a feeling she should have just gotten rid of it, but she hated wasting food so ate it. Big mistake.

Harry’s fingers delicately work on her curls, piling them on the top of her heat before he secures the bun with professional movements using the elastic he tends to wear on his wrists, just because Flora always loses hers. He likes to keep one on him as well. His long haired days trained him well, her hair is neatly kept out of her face as she frowns, feeling her stomach churning again.

“Can I do anything else for you, baby?” he gently asks, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but she feels alright. She probably just has to get rid of the bad food.

“Can you please get me a wet washcloth?” she asks faintly. Sitting to her butt she leans against the wall beside her with her eyes closed.

Harry nods and he is on his feet in a blink of an eye, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it in some cool water. He kneels in front of her and starts gently tapping it against her cheeks, forehead and neck, wiping off the thin layer of sweat.

“This is not how I planned to spend our anniversary,” she groans with a frown, making him chuckle.

“We agreed, the anniversary is postponed. Don’t even think about it.”

“But I wanted to look nice for you, even bought a new dress.” She pouts her lips at him, eyes opening narrowly, glistening from the tears that watered them while she was throwing up.

“You always look nice, baby,” he softly tells her, letting her take the washcloth before she places it over her forehead.

“Even now? After you saw me throw up four times? We have very different versions for the word nice, H,” she jokes with a soft chuckle and Harry is thankful to see her smile, even if it’s still very faint and tired.

“Even now, baby,” he nods smirking and he is not lying. Though the situation is saddening, Harry still enjoys taking care of her, being the one she can rely on even on her worst days.

They sit on the bathroom floor as the medicine slowly works and she finally gets rid of the urge to throw up. Then Harry scoops her up and undressing the both of them, he helps her take a nice shower before dressing her in clean clothes, tossing their dirty ones into the laundry basket, noting to do them sometime in the morning.

When Flora is settled under the cover, head comfortably sinking into the pillow, she immediately feels her eyes closing, the strenuous afternoon has successfully sucked all her energy right out of her body. Harry brings her another big glass of water for the night and just to be sure, puts a trashcan next to her side, if things go south again. When he gets under the covers she is already half asleep, but she hums when his fingertips dance down the side of her face.

He allows himself to shamelessly admire her as she finally falls completely asleep, her lips parted as she slightly snores, but she looks so peaceful, the painful frown he saw on her face all afternoon is now gone from her beautiful face. He hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around how an entire year has passed with such a wonderful creature by his side. As their anniversary was coming up, he caught himself thinking about what the future is holding for them more often. There were so many things they needed to experience together, so much to see and do as partners and Harry couldn’t wait for it all to come.

As he lies in the bed next to her, a smile tugs on his pink lips at the thought of the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Flora. His future has never seemed brighter than in that moment.

“This is harder than I thought,” Flora admits, focusing on the instrument on her lap, trying to figure out if she is holding down the accords the right way, but a moment later Harry’s hand covers hers on the neck of the guitar and he fixes her fingers on the strings until they are in the right position.

“Like this. Try it now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on her shoulders as she is standing between his legs, back leant against his chest. Flora has been begging him to teach him a few accords on the guitar and today finally brought the moment Harry would turn into her master.

The two of them are sitting on the bed, Harry only in his underwear while Flora is in one of his hoodies with only her panties covering the lower parts of her body. Harry came back from a week-long trip to New York and they haven’t left the bed too much since he set his feet inside the house, only emerging from the bedroom to fulfill their other physical needs.

Flora’s fingers strum against the strings and the instrument comes to life, giving her a clear accord finally, bringing a triumphant smile to her lips.

“You are a natural talent, baby,” he smirks, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before kissing into her neck.

“Don’t tease me, I’m trying!” she warns her playfully, playing the chord again, loving how she can create such a beautiful sound with the instrument.

“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”

“Oh, surely. I think I would make an excellent rockstar,” she nods confidently, making him laugh.

“You are so not the rockstar type. More like the chill indie singer who dances barefoot on stage.”

“Yeah, but I could spice it up a little and make it rockstar-y,” she explains and glances back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think I would look hot in one of your stage costumes? Sparkly suit and all?”

“Oh I know you’d look amazing,” he nods eagerly. He has spent quite some time imagining her girl in one of his suits and he quite liked the thought. Flora chuckles as he puts the guitar aside before she turns around and straddles him, her knees on each of his sides.

“Yeah? I would need a better name, mine is not too fitting for a star,” she explains. “Easy for you, your name is basically the most perfect name for a rockstar.”

“You think so?” he cocks an eyebrow at her, his palms coming to cup her bum as he tilts his head backwards since this position makes her the taller one for a change.

“Harry Styles? Oh please, it’s like Anne knew she would give birth to a legend,” she scoffs making him laugh.

“I’ve been told it’s a nice one,” he shrugs smugly. “I think it’s the surname.”

“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”

“What if you had the same? Flora Styles? Sounds pretty badass,” he suggests and at first, she doesn’t even realize the hidden meaning behind his words, tasting the name so obliviously.

“Flora Styles? You might be right, the surname sounds very cool,” she agrees and it amazes him how easily it went over her head.

“You like it?”

“Mhm,” she nods, her hand reaching for the guitar once again, but Harry stops her, taking it between his as he blindly finds her ring finger that is now ringless.

“Do you like it enough to actually take it?” he questions, hoping she would get the hint now where this is heading. She blinks at him a little puzzled but it’s until she realizes that his fingers are fidgeting with her ring finger, more specifically where a ring would sit on it, his fingertips gently caressing the skin around it.

“Harry?” she gasps with wide eyes as she just watches his grin grow wider. “This is not… Are you--?”

“What?” he chuckles, feeling entertained how she lost all her smug confidence all of a sudden. “What’s it that you’re trying to say?”

“No, what is it that you are trying to say?!” she snaps back, still in shock about what he just implied. “Was this your sneaky way of… proposing?” she asks, whispering the last word as if it was a curse word.

“Why do you act like we have a forbidden love and marriage cannot be even mentioned?” he chuckles at her.

“Because I was shocked! Not that bad now though, you haven’t pulled out a ring so I guess it was just a cruel joke.” She narrows her eyes at him, kissing his smug grin shortly, but Harry is definitely not done with her just yet.

“I wouldn’t be that sure about it, baby,” he warns her before gently pushing her off her lap to get off the bed. Flora’s eyes widen as she follows him walk to his suitcase that’s still lying on the floor next to his dresser, waiting to be unpacked. He digs under his clothes before pulling out a small velvety box, making her gasp immediately. Harry gets back on bed as he holds out the box in front of her on his palm, not opening it just yet.

“Did you buy that in New York just this week?” she asks with her mouth hung open.

“I didn’t. I’ve had it for about a month, I just took it with myself because I was afraid you’d find it,” he chuckles as he plays around with it between his fingers. “Have been planning on it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with anything so then I just decided to wait for the right moment and go with the flow,” he explains.

“And this is the right moment?” she questions, her heart beating in her throat as her gaze is switching between Harry’s green eyes and the box in his hand.

“Felt like it, yeah,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up.

Silence settles between them as they both just wrap their heads around the weight of the moment. Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, a little afraid it’s too early. They’ve been dating a little over two years now, marriages have been tied way earlier in a relationship before, but Harry feared Flora would feel it too rushed just yet, however the question is out there now. Or is it?

“Well, are you gonna ask it?” she questions and as Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, he is met with that playful challenge in them that he adores so much.

“I just asked,” he mutters.

“No, you asked if I would take your name. That’s not a proposal,” she reminds him and he realizes she is right. He never actually asked the big question.

So he finally pops the lid open revealing the vintage diamond ring he bought a month ago when he was just out and about. The moment his eyes laid on the jewelry, he knew it’s the one he’d like to see on your finger and bought it right away.

“Floortje Hoven, will you marry me?” he simply asks, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he smiles widely at his lover.

“I will,” she nods, her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him take the ring out of the box and carefully put it on her once empty ring finger. Still holding her hand, he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the ring before leaning in he connects his lips with hers.

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot

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hyetiny · 3 years

Text

c// fem!reader, sex worker hongjoong, detective reader, mentions of murder and crime, bratty hongjoong, joong small cock <3, humiliation kink, oral (f receiving), degradation (use of slut), dumbification, yay for protected sex

you weren’t at all fond of the dingy, dim hotel you found yourself in front of - it smelled of damp decay, and had only one flickering light in front of the entrance. nonetheless, it was essential to be here for the case.

you never enjoyed working homicides, having to look into the depraved faces of killers as they more often than not showed no remorse. with a sigh and a silent prayer, you walk into the motel.

when you show him your badge, the person working the register wordlessly handed you a key with “room 117″ messily scribbled onto it. the climb up four flights of stairs isn’t fun, but finally you unlock the door hastily, wanting to get this over and done with.

as expected, there on the bed is a rather stunning young man. he has sharp yet youthful features, heavy makeup and is only wearing a robe. it’s obvious he has nothing on underneath it. you don’t miss the “do me” eyes that cross his eyes when you enter the room - it’s all an act, you think.

“you can put the money on the table.” he says after a short silence.

“100 for the hour?” he nods. you rummage around your pocket, putting said amount on the table next to you. if you landed a conviction, you’d be getting the money back anyway.

“you can keep your robe on.” you say, getting seated on the bed a safe distance away from him.

a smirk crosses his face. “oh, you want to play with me a little bit first?” his voice changes drastically - it’s more seductive.

you shake your head. “that’s not why i’m here. last night a man was killed, and if my sources are correct, you’re the last person he saw.”

the man pauses, looking at you as though waiting for you to continue.

“i need to you to tell me everything that happened last night.” you state.

he pauses again. “alright.”

“your full name, please?”

“kim hongjoong.”

“okay hongjoong, so what happened when you met up with mr lee last night?”

hongjoong sighs. “well he paid for three hours. he was married, so he paid me extra to stay quiet about it. he was actually really good at sex, he had me in at least five different positions and his cock was massi-”

“relevant details only, please.” you shudder.

hongjoong rolls his eyes. “anyway, he told me he had somewhere to be after, so he wanted to relieve some stress before he went.” you jot down the important detail.

“did he tell you where?”

“he said it was an important meeting at a club down the street.”

you nod. “thank you, hongjoong. we’ll be in contact if we need anything else.”

you start to get up, but he clears his throat. “you paid for the full hour. why don’t you use up the time instead of wasting your money?”

you raise an eyebrow. naturally you assumed that he would want to keep the hour for himself.

“i haven’t had any clients today so i’m feeling a little... pent up.” he continues. “and you look like you could use some stress relief.”

it catches you off guard. you curse yourself for thinking about it - he was right, you did technically have the next hour to do whatever you wanted until you had to get back.

without a word, you begin to unbutton your button up shirt.

“this is strictly casework, got it?” he nods, grinning like a child who just got a jar of candy.

“i’ll make it well worth your time, detective”. he whispers into your ear before nipping on it, catching you off guard.

you weren’t fond of his cocky attitude - it spurred a desire within you to put him in his place.

“off.” you say, pulling at the fabric holding his robe together. he obeys, revealing the expanse of his tan skin, taking notice of every little mole, every little birthmark, every small scar that decorates his skin. but of course, what catches your attention is his hard cock, smaller than average and flushed pink at the tip.

“is this supposed to make me feel good?” you ask, wrapping a hand around the short length. to your amusement, your hand comes up more than is necessary when you jerk him off. it only adds to the humiliation.

“don’t judge before you try it, sweetheart.” he says, not affected by the snide comment at all. “besides, it’s not the only thing i can use to make you feel good.”

at this point you’re only stripped of your shirt, while hongjoong is stark naked. although he lets out pleasured moans, he pulls your hand off his cock and implores you to lay down. he scooches down on the bed, laying down on his tummy and to your surprise, hooks his hands around your panties underneath your pencil skirt. you gasp in surprise, feeling exposed now that he could see your wet pussy.

“hm, you’re a lot of talk for someone who’s already so wet for me.” he giggles. as though to accentuate his point, he runs a finger up your folds and brings it up to his lips.

“oh, you taste divine.” he whispers. “you’ll let me be greedy, right?”

with that, he pulls your skirt up your thighs and wastes no time in licking a stripe up your core, earning a loud moan. his lips suction around your clit, his tongue peeking out to repeatedly stimulate the bud. a finger comes up to tease your entrance.

“f-fuck, hongjoong-” you cry out, already feeling close to your high. “s-stop or i’ll-”

he takes mercy on you, pulling off when your legs start to shake around his head.

“i should have gotten you to sit on my face, you have the sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted.” he says. you roll your eyes, thinking he must say that to every single person he eats out.

looking at the ticking clock on the wall, you look him straight in the eye. “you have thirty minutes to fuck me until i forget my own name.”

it clearly affects him, because he gulps and nods. he rummages around the bedside table, pulling out a box of condoms and shaking the box until one falls out - clearly the last one in the box. he wastes no time in quickly putting it on before lining himself up with your entrance.

“any day now would be good.” you say angrily. it doesn’t slip your notice that he pushes into your core with more force than necessary.

“fuck, such a tight pussy. no one’s fucked you properly in a while, huh?” he growls into your ear. he’s right - you shouldn’t have judged him, because his cock still manages to fill you up perfectly. it only gets better when his hand meets your clit, and he immediately sets an aggressive pace, ramming into you and perfectly hitting your g-spot with the way his cock curves into it.

“holy shit, fuck joong!” a garbled mess of curses and hongjoong’s name is the only thing you can manage to get out as he only speeds up, letting out pretty, low moans of his own and speaking nothing but pure filth into you ear.

“gosh, you’re such a slut aren’t you? needing a good fuck while you’re on the job?” in your fucked out state of mind, you don’t bother to remember the fact that he was the one who asked for sex. instead you just blindly nod, agreeing with everything he says.

“oh, look at you going all dumb for me. are you gonna cum, my dumb little detective?” you nod again, your moans only getting higher the closer you get to your orgasm.

“i-i’m-” it’s the only warning he gets when your pussy spasms around him, your hips grinding against his harsh pace as you reach your high. it’s enough to spur his orgasm as well, a groan leaving his lips as he empties into the condom.

you both take a minute to catch your breaths before he pulls out, taking off the condom, tying it and throwing it in the bin.

“so, do you feel any better?” he asks when you come back from using the bathroom.

“much better.” you smile, getting dressed and making your way to the door. “thanks, hongjoong.”

“hey.” he speaks up. “take the money back.”

you turn to face him, and shake your head. “think of it as a generous tip.”

a cute pout graces his lips. “i usually have to fake my moans and pretend to enjoy it, but you were really something else.” he says.

“in that case, we can meet up again to compensate.” you say with a smile, which he returns.

“i’d like that.” he replies. “i’ll see you around then, y/n.” and with that you leave, weak in the knees and your head filled with thoughts of the pretty blonde boy.

tag list:

@seongsangsgf @mingi-ivity @shinyddeonghwa @galaxteez @bobateastay @ddeonghwva @spacepiratehongjoong @multidreams-and-desires @a-soft-hornytiny @serialee @yunhospuppy

#ateez smut #hongjoong smut

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gucciwins · 3 years

Text

it’s your birthday?

As luck would have it you once again find yourself in a breakout room with Harry

Word count: 3296

A/N: Hello friends, it’s a new semester and it felt only right to continue breakout room, a story that was well loved by you. The inspiration once again came to me during class and also because it’s Harry’s birthday. Thank you to the lovely @soullikestyles for reading this over. Here it is, enjoy!!!

I hope you love this, it is a continuation from Breakout Room

Please shoot me a message of what you thought!!!!

i love you, take care xx

_____

It's the start of a new semester. It's safe to say you did not make any friends last semester due to this ongoing pandemic, but what you did manage to get was a 3.9 G.P.A for the Fall semester. It was probably because you did not leave your apartment, and when you did, it was to go grocery shopping with your roommate, who would be dead without you because, as she liked to put it, you're the chef, and she's the taster.

Well, you maybe did make one friend.

Harry Styles.

He was the person to talk to you during a zoom breakout room in your women's gender studies course.

Sure, you were never in the same room again, but you might or might not have pinned his face during one of the professor's long ramblings that is no longer related to the course.

He was pretty to look at; you would never deny that.

No, with the floppy curls that he almost always seemed to run his hand through, then stopping when one of his rings got caught in a knotted ringlet. His camera would instantly turn off, and in thirty seconds, he was back as if nothing had happened. The glasses framed his face just right, making his eyes look soft and inviting. Also made his dimples stand out. He almost always wore a different colored cardigan. Your favorite from the semester was when he wore a multicolored cardigan. That looks like it was knitted; there was a hole by his heart. Honestly, you were hoping he had, would have made him even more endearing.

Also, might one day ask him to make you one, or he could even teach you. You're a fast learner and have patience.

He's got a great choice in clothing from what you was able to observe in such a short time—also a lovely personality.

After his initial email, you decided to answer, thus creating a chain of messages back and forth. He was honestly funny, and that was just on paper. He had asked for her number and said no, and he respected that. It doesn't mean they never helped each other in the class; Harry asking for more help than Y/N. She sent him over her notes and explained the readings he found harder to grasp.

As soon as finals week hit, she received her last email from him with the subject as Goodbye. It took you by surprise, and you erased the draft you had waiting for him that had your phone number wanting to keep talking to him. Still, clearly, he thought of them as just classmates for the semester, so without even opening his last email, you trashed it.

You felt guilty about it, so you then transferred it to your archives, where it sits with other unwanted emails.

_____

The holidays are over, and since you could not make the trip home, you celebrated with Amy, your roommate. You both help each other buy your family's presents, looking for the best discounts and adding extra items to get the free shipping. Together, well, mostly you as she handed you pieces of tape you wrapped present after present in brown wrapping paper. It was harder to tear and more comfortable to decorate in any way you wanted. On each box, it had everyone's name written in beautiful handwriting, courtesy of you. Then you would add snowflakes or stripes to make it stand out.

It was a success from their looks when each gift was open through the zoom call.

The month break flew by, and the next thing you knew, it was time to be back at your desk for hours of learning. It was fun until it wasn't sure there was a lot to look forward to, but you would miss sleeping all day and eating snacks in bed with no fear of forgetting to submit an assignment.

This semester you had four major courses. Psychology of Personality and Psychology of Aging were the two courses you were most looking forward to. You decided on taking the women's gender studies class called Politics of Sexuality. You had gotten the recommendation from the department's head to take it and did so without a second thought. Yes, fifteen units was a lot, but you were close to graduating, and you knew you could handle it.

The first week flew by because it was merely going over the syllabus. You had your camera on, but you did not bother to look at your other classmates. Sasha, a fellow person in your major, would be your study partner as she had been all semester. Sasha might not always be in the class section, but she did take the same professors and courses. It makes studying and taking notes easier. You know you won't always have Sasha, but having a study partner has ever made you do better.

February 1st. The start of the second week of the semester.

You woke up at seven, got the tea that Amy had ready for you, and were sitting at your desk by eight. Your professor droned on about the first chapter of the book. You felt confident knowing you understood the significant points.

It's 11:30, and your second course of the day is going to start. You were not looking forward to the class simply because Dr. Rossi had warned you he would be putting you into breakout rooms of two. That person would be your partner for the semester. You had a project due at the end of the semester, and he wanted you to be acquainted with someone rather than having a person working alone.

You sat there, Baby Yoda ceramic mug in hand, as you waited for your breakout room to load and to see who you were destined to work with for the next fourteen weeks.

There was a knock on your door that distracted you from seeing the video of someone else load.

"Sorry, I know you're in class, but I was wondering when lunch was to see how big of a snack I should have." Amy shoots you a small smile.

"No worries, Ames, I'm out at 12:45 and will need half an hour to cook, so roughly 1:30. Is that okay?" You tell her feeling a little awful, making her wait.

"It's perfect. Have a good class." Amy shuts the door.

As you hear the click, you turn back to your computer, and they're staring at you in a lavender cardigan with a white shirt underneath is the one and only Harry Styles.

His curls are shorter, meaning he recently got a haircut, and they are just growing back. You wished he had let it grow out, wanting to see how much more ruly they would have gotten.

You feel your face heat up, remembering you did not do your hair, instead of letting it sit messily in a low ponytail, small hair framing your hair. You were sure the black sweatshirt you had one had a hummus stain but too afraid to look down to check. You weren't even aware he was in this class; it shows you should be paying attention more to your classmates.

He shoots you a small smile, and you grimace, trying to force one out, but you're still a bit shocked.

You see his microphone go white, meaning he was about to speak. You leaned forward in anticipation, a bit desperate to hear his smooth accent through your computer speakers.

"Hello, it's been a while." Harry raises his glasses to hold back his hair.

You reach forward and unmute yourself. "Hello, Harry. It has been a while. It's a new year and everything." You joke.

He chuckles, scratching his chin. You aren't sure what to do; it was never this awkward the first time you chatted.

"Guess we're partners, huh."

"Apparently." You sigh, a bit loud, forgetting he can hear you.

"Ouch, don't need to sound too excited." He tells you not at all hiding his frown.

"No, I didn't." You stop not knowing how to go back from that. "Sorry, that was rude of me."

He nods, not saying anything more, and you take it as a sign to continue.

"I-i, well, after our last class ended, I figured that was that. You said goodbye in the last email, so I figured that was the end of our friendship, if you can even call it that."

"I thought my email would give the opposite impression, but not everything can translate as smoothly when talking." He tells you, which causes you to pause.

"Your email literally said goodbye," You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

He hides his smile, "My subject said goodbye, the content said quite the opposite. You did read it, right?"

You duck your head, not allowing yourself to meet his eye even through a computer screen, too embarrassed to be caught. "Well, no, I didn't. Hurt my feelings, just seeing the goodbye." You look up and see his eyes soften, giving you just a bit more courage to continue. "I've always struggled to make friends, I have like three good friends, and it's hard putting myself out there, and I didn't actually if you considered me a friend or not."

"Y/N" He breathes out your name.

You stop him before he can continue. "Do you mind if I read it now?"

Harry shakes his head.

You restore down the zoom and open up your Gmail on the split-screen. You find it reasonably quickly; you look up at him to see him patiently sitting back chipping at his nails. They are a pastel yellow; it makes you smile, knowing just yesterday you went from that color to a deep red.

[email protected]

Subject: Goodbye

Y/N,

It's been enjoyable emailing back and forth. I honestly would not have passed this class without you. I think you are brilliant and if I had you in every course, I would finish with A's in them all. So, thank you for having the patience to teach me.

Also, thank you for being my friend. I know we mostly talked about school work. Still, you did help me decide on what coat to buy for my sister, so I know that makes us friends, and I did help you get that switch for your little brother. (That was like trying to buy floor tickets for Lady Gaga.)

On another note, after emailing for twelve weeks, I was wondering if I could have your number. I would like the chance to give you a call and formally ask you on a date. I know we're in the middle of a pandemic, and dating is hard, but we can do zoom dates before we try in person.

I understand if it's a no, but I am really grateful to have met you.

Your friend (although I do want to try to be more)

Harry Styles

City Pointe Apt 32 (in case you want to send a care package, I would gladly return the favor)

"Oh, Harry," You inhale, "I'm so sorry."

"No worries." He shrugs.

You pause, thinking your next words. "I live in Rose Villa." Those were not the words you wanted to say, but you don't take it back.

"That's across the street from my building." He gasps. "We could have run into each other."

You nod. "Small world."

Harry brings his focus back to something you skipped over. "I realize you didn't mention the part of asking you on a date."

"Oh, I figured you over that now. It's been well over a month since I ignored your email." You grimace, starting to feel awful about it all over again.

"I guess it was email abandonment this time." He jokes.

You laugh, and it gets Harry laughing as well. He was always good at that, making you laugh and not be so serious even if he didn't know it.

"Y/N," Harry's voice was strong, no signs of laughter in his trace. You lock eyes as best you can through a computer screen. "I would still very much like to take you on a date."

A date with Harry.

You want to say yes, but it's like you're frozen.

"Can I say something else before you give me an answer?" You nod, waiting for him to go on. "Sarah Jones, do you know her?"

Sarah Jones, you rack your brain trying to place her.

The theater composer. She's written original tracks for the theatre department for the original plays they've done and remakes. She's won countless awards.

Sarah even won the talent show. Played a killer drum solo that no one else could ever think of topping.

If you're honest, she's the definition of your girl crush.

"We follow each other on social media. We met at a paint night; she was really easy to talk to." You tell him, remembering how sweet she was to you when she saw you walk in, and just as you were about to walk out, she introduced herself to you, asking to sit with you.

He nods. "Sarah is my roommate's girlfriend. Mitch and Sarah practically live together; he's so in love with her it truly is the sweetest thing. Back to the point, she overheard me talking about you to Mitch and spoke how she knew you. Then I proceeded to stalk your Instagram on her account. I hope that's not weird."

You laugh, and it causes Harry to calm down, "Not weird at all. I would have done the same thing, but as you can see, I rarely upload anything."

"Well, the things you do have, I think, are wonderful." He rambles on explaining how your beach photo on a bike with a pretty pink basket was one of his favorites and how cute you look wearing sweaters.

As endearing as Harry was being, you decided to put him out of his misery. "Harry," you interrupt.

"Yes."

"I'd love to go on a date with you."

"You would?" He gasps in surprise.

"Yes."

"That's fantastic. I think this is the best birthday gift I could have received." He tells you, but you're stuck on the last thing he said.

"It's your birthday?"

Harry smiles sheepishly. "Yes."

"Happy Birthday, Harry." You tell him softly, a big smile on your face.

A blush overtakes his face; you can tell he wishes to cover up his face with hands but holds back from doing so. "Thank you."

"Do you have any plans?"

"No, well. Mitch and Sarah are coming over for lunch in a bit. Then they are off to study at Sarah's for the week. Her roommates are gone for the week."

You frown, not liking that he'll spend the rest of his birthday alone.

"Would you-never mind" You stop yourself from being able to invite yourself over to celebrate with him?

"Hey, it's okay. Whatever you wanted to say, I wouldn't judge you, love." His voice was soft and reassuring.

"Well, I'd love to come over and hang out with you if that's okay. I can make us dinner, I make delicious enchiladas. Also, my carrot cake is to die for."

Harry is surprised at her offer but nods his head quickly. "That sounds wonderful, but you don't have to cook for me. We can order takeout."

She shakes her head. "Consider it my gift to you."

"Well, okay. Is six okay for you?" He bites his lip, not believing this is happening.

"Perfect."

You sit there smiling at each other.

When a message pops up overhead, "You have five minutes left before we join back as a group."

Your eyes go wide, having forgotten you were in class. "We didn't even discuss the assignment."

Harry shakes his head in laughter, a smile spreads over your face. He has an adorable laugh that just rings through your ears, and you can't wait to hear it in person.

"We've got time, now that it seems we'll be getting to know each other better."

You relax, settling a bit, you have weeks before the assignment is due.

"I'll email you my number, love. Easier to communicate for later."

"Sounds great." You respond.

_____

It's five-fifty, and you're standing outside his door. You're more than a little nervous. You're wearing high waisted jeans paired with a black off the shoulder top with floral embroidered sleeves. You decided against a sweater knowing the short walk would keep you warm enough. Your mask is red, with three small hearts stitched on the lower right side. Perfect for February.

You shift the items in your hand to the right and lift your hand up to knock. After three gentle knocks, you hear footsteps and take a step back.

"Hi," Harry breathes out, a big smile on his face.

"Hello, Harry, happy birthday."

"Thank you." He smiles wide, blessing you with his dimples. Definitely look better in person. "Please come in." He grabs some of the items from your hand and allows you to step in before locking the door behind you.

"Your mask is lovely. Did you make it?"

"I did!" You share excitedly. "My roommate, Amy, and I spent lots of our free time making a different kind. We took old shirts we no longer wanted and used for the material. It was a lot of trial and error, but we're pretty solid at it now. My embroidery could use some work, but I think it's lovely.

"It really is. Would you make me one?" He asks, staring at you as you pocket your mask. No longer needing it in his home.

"Yes, I'll send you pictures of the fabric I have, or you could come over, and I can teach you as well." You tell him, excited at the prospect.

"Sounds like a wonderful date." You nod, feeling your body get warm at the word date because today could also classify as a date.

Harry knocks you out of your head when calling your name. "Turned the oven on like you requested." He informs you.

"Thank you, my mom showed me how to make them, but I learned about the melted cheese on my own. She wasn't a big fan of it, but everyone else I know loves it, so I hope you will as well."

Harry grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. "I'm sure it's wonderful." He bumps your shoulder gently. "Go finish up; I'll set the table."

He pushes you into the kitchen, and you go in and place your stuff. Harry is whistling, settling down on the table two glasses and two forks when you turn back around towards him.

Harry turns around just in time for you to wrap your hands around his waist. You fit perfectly in his arms, taking in his musky scent. "Happy birthday, Harry." You whisper against his chest.

He squeezes you tighter, leaning his head on top of yours. "Thank you, love."

He pulls back, holding you by your shoulders. A big smile on his face, you reciprocate it feeling his happiness warm your heart.

"Run along now; I'm starving." He jokes.

You walk backward, creating distance; as his left-hand trails down your right hand slowly until he's touching your fingertips, do you pull away. Although you, more than anything, wanted to hold his hand. You want to feel the weight of it in yours; you want to know if his hands are soft or calloused. How cool his rings will feel against your palm. All in due time.

"I'm happy to be here."

"Me too, love. Me too."

It's safe to say you were more than luckily going to have yourself a valentine for the first time in a long time.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #fluff #harry styles fluff #zoom university #zoom online #harry styles writing #harry styles uni #my writing #harry styles fanfic

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jamilelucato · 3 years

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The Duff || Fred Weasley

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader (any house)

summary: your life became too stressing lately, and Fred Weasley, although generally very annoying, manages to distract you just enough when he stops talking.

A/N: completely based on the book The Duff. Like completely. So reader may have some issues with her appearance. Sorry about my other fics! It’s just that, when an idea pops, I have to write. It’s a big fic. (feel like it’s one of my brightest works)

words: + 11k

warnings: insinuations and mentions of sex; body insecurities; sick father, etc

Harry Potter Masterlist || Musical Hogwarts Series

You couldn't understand what could be the fun in going to Three Broomsticks to party. The place is one of the oldest bars in Hogwarts, but not long ago, Madam Rosmerta decided to add a dance floor in one of the darkest sides of the pub, and she got one of those muggle music machines. It was very nice if your thing was dancing in sweat and rubbing your body in people.

Easy to say it was most definitely not your thing.

"Okay, that's it for you," said Madam Rosmerta, taking your mug away. It once was filled with butterbeer, but the barmaid seemed to think you had gotten it filled way too many times for a night.

"Oh, come on," you complained, "there's no alcohol on those."

"I know. But it has sugar, and you had one too many," Rosmerta said, ignoring your pout and walking away from your side of the counter so she could serve other costumers.

Your brain fought a battle to decide if it was worth contesting and explaining that not offering you more butterbeer was causing the barmaid to lose money when the stool next to you cried with the weight that was jumping on it.

"Good evening, y/n," said the boy who now sat next to you.

It was inevitable when your eyes rolled just by smelling his cologne. There was no need for you even to turn to know who it was. Only one boy in the whole Hogwarts was confident enough to wear such cheap cologne as if it was holy water.

"Get the hell away, Weasley," you cried, wishing, profoundly, to have another butterbeer with you.

Madam Rosmerta noticed the new client sitting close to the counter, and she quickly came back to serve him.

"Fred Weasley," she greeted him with her playful smile. She knew the Hogwarts teenage boys only flirted with her in hopes of a discount, but she enjoyed it, considering it rather fun. "What can I get you?"

"My usual butterbeer, Ro," he said, charming her with his smirk. She chuckled, while he passed her a coin.

"If you're getting him one, you're getting me one too," you warned the barmaid, raising a brow. Your serious approach worked because, with a sigh, she walked back with two drinks.

You tossed her your coin.

"That is officially your last one, young lady, so you better enjoy it," she threatened before leaving and playing with her hair solemnly for Fred to see.

He was still smiling when you decided to look at him. He was a bastard, but, boy, was he handsome.

"You have five seconds to disappear from in front of me now that you have your drink," you warned. Even though Fred's eyes followed the back of Rosmerta, yours was still staring at him. Maybe the amount of disgust you felt for him could pass on with a look.

"Chill, would you?" Fred took a sip from his mug, supporting his arms on the counter, finally looking at you. "If you're so bothered, the dance floor awaits."

You chuckled, frowning right after. "Look, Weasley, don't you have any other girl to fuss around?"

He smirked, thinking you were falling for his game. "Do you have friends you'd like to suggest?" he played, raising his brows. "Is Jess still single?"

"I'd be dead if I let you stay even one meter close to my friends, do you hear me? I don't want them catching any diseases," you shivered just with the thought of how many girls (and STDs) this boy before you might have encountered.

"So they are here," his eyes narrowed as if he was scanning the dance floor, searching for your girls.

"Go away, Fred," you sighed, tired of that conversation. You took one sip of your mug, but the butterbeer was no longer enough to keep your mind away from Fred Weasley's affairs. "And stay away from Jess and Casey."

"Oh, y/n, just put a good word for me, please. I mean, it is your job," Fred leaned in, closer to you and his scent attacked your nostrils again, making you lean back.

"It's not my job to help you, Weasley."

"Well, as their duff, I think it is," he drank from his mug, ignoring your confused look.

"Duff?"

Asking him what the word meant called his attention back to you, but he seemed surprised you hadn't heard about it yet. "You know, designated ugly fat friend," he replied, making a peculiar gesture with his neck as he spoke the last term.

You couldn't possibly have heard him right. "Excuse me??"

"Look, I don't mean to offend," he shrugged his broad shoulders, a gift from all his years playing Quidditch.

He noticed how fast your expression was changing.

"It's not like you're an ogre or anything, but in comparison…" his eyes wandered back to the dance floor, this time yours followed, seeing Jess and Casey — your longest-time best friends — dancing with some other students. "Think about it. Why do they bring you here if you don't dance?"

"Shut it, Weasley. They bring me here because I'm their friend; stop with your nonsense," your mind was working incredibly hard to stop you from believing that you were the ugly friend. Because that could not be the truth. Especially if everyone already knew and the one to tell you about it had to be the most annoying Gryffindor.

Fred had the nerve to reach over and pat your knee, but you jerked away from him. "Look," he said, "you have hot friends… really hot friends."

All the butterbeer you had drunk was starting to make you sick. Perhaps Rosmerta had been right, but if you had to bet in a guilt part, you'd bet on the ginger.

"The point is, in a group of friends, there's always a weak link, a Duff. And girls respond well to guys who associate with their Duffs."

"Where are you getting this info? The Quibbler?" you never meant to offend the Lovegoods, but Fred Weasley was speaking rubbish at this point.

"Don't be bitter," Fred pressed his lips together, pausing. "What I'm saying is girls find it sexy when lads show some sensitivity and socialize with the Duff. So, please, help me here, and just pretend to enjoy our talk."

There it was, in front of you, the living, redheaded proof that stupidity is capable of making people persevere for years. You already knew that Fred was a womanizing asshole, but it was unexpected to find out how worthless as a human being he is, too. Pretty faces definitely aren't everything.

With one swift motion, you jumped to your feet and flung the contents of your mug in Fred's direction.

The remaining butterbeer flew all over him, splattering his striped polo collar shirt. The liquid got his ginger hair wet entirely, which surprised you because, usually, you wouldn't have such great aim.

His face burned with anger, and his chiselled mandible clenched angrily. "What was that for?" he snapped, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"What do you think it was for?" you snapped.

"I have no possible idea."

Madam Rosmerta appeared again, giving Fred a white cloth to dry himself, but it wasn't enough. Part of you wanted to be mad at the waitress for helping Fred, but you knew she just didn't want him to ask her to take you out.

"If you think I'm letting one of my friends leave this place with you, Weasley, you're very, very wrong, " you spluttered, staring at him with fire in your eyes. "You're a shallow jackass, and I hope that we never cross paths again."

The stupid muggle music played so loud that no one but Rosmerta overheard you, and she probably found you awsome. She loved some teenage drama.

You grabbed your friends as quickly as you could. They were about protest all the way to the secret passageway back to Hogwarts, so you decided it was best to explain what was happening.

"What's wrong?" Casey asked. Her once perfect dark hair was now wet — part of you wondered if the sweat even belonged to her. For such a smart Ravenclaw, you expected more of her.

"Let's get back to school; I just can't stand to be in this hellhole for one more second, " you said, dragging their reluctant bodies along behind you.

"Why are we leaving so early? It's only, like, nine-fifteen," Jess asked, frowning a bit, looking at you with her sad big blue eyes. Her Hufflepuff charm was about to work on you when you remembered why you were living.

"I got into an argument with someone, " you said, and Jess puppy eyes quickly disappeared, opening the place for her angry face to emerge. "I threw my Coke on him, and I didn't want to stick around for his response."

"Who?" Casey asked. You'd been dreading that question because you knew the reaction you'd get.

"Fred Weasley." two girly sighs followed your answer. "The guy is a man-whore. I can't stand him. He sleeps with everything that moves, and his brain is located in his pants—which means it's microscopic."

"I doubt that, " Casey said with another sigh.

"He's a jerk," you said, hoping your voice sounded like it was final. The tunnel back to Hogwarts seemed endless.

"That's not true," Jessica inserted. "Katie Bell told me he talked to her when she was alone at the Yule Ball. She was with Angelina and Alicia, and she said he just came up and made conversation, really friendly."

That made sense. Katie was definitely the Duff if she was out with Angelina and Alicia. And you knew for a fact that Angelina left with Fred that night.

"He's charming, " Casey said. "Give him some credit." Her smile slowly faded when she remembered that you threw at him your beer. "But what the hell did he do to you tonight, huh?" Now she sounded concerned. Took her long enough.

You sighed, noticing that saying something would only make their worry and you really wanted to avoid their pity. "Nothing, " you lied, "Fred just pisses me off."

Duff. The word bounced around in your mind as you three reached Hogwarts. When you took a last look at your friends before each parted to your houses, Fred's statement that you were the unattractive, undesirable tagalong seemed to be confirmed.

Jessica's perfect hourglass body and big brown eyes. Casey's athlete's features and impeccable skin. You definitely weren't like them.

"Well, see you tomorrow for the feast?" Jess asked the two of you.

You and Casey shared tired smiles. Although Casey would've like to stay a little longer at the Three Broomsticks, she welcomed extra sleeping hours. Her Quidditch player schedule didn't leave her much time to rest.

"See you," you stated, walking away slowly, letting your feet lead the way to your dorm where you'd try extra hard to forget the whole Duff thing.

You picked your blanket up to your chin, not wanting to get out of bed so soon, even though you could very much get late for Snape's class.

Fred Weasley words were hunting you like a ghost. They shouldn't be, because you sure didn't care about his opinion. But the courage he had called you that disgusting abbreviation and how you seemed to find the one out from every single group of friends you walked past.

It had been a week and a half, so why did his words bother you? You were brilliant and a good witch, always there for your friends. Thus, who cared if you were the Duff?

If you were charming, you'd have to deal with lads like Weasley hitting on you. Ugh! That could be a Duff benefit, right? Being unattractive didn't have to suck.

Damn Fred Weasley! You couldn't believe he managed to pack your head with such superficial bullshit. Getting out of bed with a jump, you were committed.

You wouldn't think about Duffs ever again.

Thursdays were homework day, at least for you and your best friends.

When classes were over, the three of you would meet at the library for a long late afternoon, reading through books and doing assignments. And, of course, spilling some tea with whispers.

That afternoon was being way bored than you expected. It was like Jess and Casey interrupted your reading all the time to tell you something new, but that day they seemed to have nothing to say.

And when I say nothing, I mean nothing.

Suspicious.

You stared at them, who pretended they hadn't been facing you all along and turned back to their essays.

"Okay, what is it? You two are awfully quiet," you whispered, leaning closer to them, scared the librarian could hear you.

They exchanged looks before, sighing, Jess gave up on her silent treatment.

"Remember when we planned on going to Three Broomsticks tomorrow?" she pouted, trying to work her big eyes on you.

"You two planned, you mean. I never agreed on it."

"We kinda find dates to go with us," said Casey, ignoring your comment on the matter.

You stared at your two best friends, holding yourself to not laugh.

"Thankfully. I never said I wanted to go," you pointed out with a smile, turning back to your book.

Jessica didn't seem satisfied with you looking away just yet.

"We can find you a date," Jess suggested.

You chuckled. "Alright," you spat — the possibility sounded ridiculous; principally when Fred's words still echoed in the corner of your mind.

"y/n, you have to come," Casey's tone was more serious. "You never go out unless we force you. So, if you don't want a date for yourself, you are thrid-wheeling."

"Not in Askaban, I am not!" you protested, raising your voice way too much but thankfully nobody was around.

Jess tried to work her puppy eyes again. "Please," she sobbed. "If you don't come, I'll feel guilty. Do you want me to ditch Cormac?"

"You are going with Cormac??" you asked, genuinely concerned because he was younger than you, but then you recalled he wasn't younger than her.

"Just show up," said Casey, not really allowing you to object. "I'll pay you a butterbeer."

Her offer was very, very tempting. You had no idea if one could become addicted to butterbeer since yours never had alcohol, but you're getting closer to that.

"But I'll only stay 'till nine," you informed.

The two girls smiled, and Jess had to hold herself from clapping in excitement.

"That'll be enough," said Casey.

"Is your father okay?" Casey asked you as soon as Jess left, and she had the open opportunity to corner you.

She was the only one in the school that you were brave enough to confess what was happening to your father. He had been recently attacked by some Death Eaters, and the Cruciatus curse left him with severe brain damaged.

It happened during the summer, before the start of your seventh year, so you had a couple of weeks to recover from that news before going back to school.

But when your mom's first letter arrived, saying your father was getting more insane with time, no amount of preparation was enough to hold back your tears as you ran out of the Great Hall.

You were able to lie to Jess, but with Casey, you weren't so lucky. Besides, her mom worked at St. Mungo's, so she already knew about your dad way before you told her.

It had been two months since you've been ignoring your mom's letters, all of them. You are too scared to read what they've got to say, and she doesn't let you go back home anyways.

You wanted to be with him, your father, hold his hand, make him better. But your mom was firm on her decision about you graduating Hogwarts.

So, when you stared at Casey's beautiful face, you had no idea what to answer.

"He can't get better," you said, in tone way harsher than you were planning. Who knew that not speaking about a matter would make you feel more painful towards it?

Casey gulped — she was always like that: she would touch the wound, but she had no idea what to do about it later.

"Do you want me to write to my m..."

"No," you quickly answered, not even letting her finish. "I just need to graduate — then I'll deal with my dad."

"It will take longer while 'till graduation, y/n," Casey pointed out. She knew you were convincing yourself it was just a couple more months, but that was a terrible lie you no longer could satisfy yourself with.

Casey wanted to do something, but taking you out was all you allowed the girls to do to you. You hated the new club atmosphere of Three Broomsticks, but you had to admit, it was pretty distracting.

"Promise I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Promise," you said, before leaving your best friend alone in the hallway.

Snape's latest assignment stood before you, with a lot of notes from the Professor, pointing out all of your mistakes.

And there were a lot of them.

When class ended, you walked up to the Professor, gulping and shaking. You knew he didn't dislike you, but you were never too careful with Severus Snape.

"Professor, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes?" he turned to face you; his black robe swirled with his movement.

"I just want to know if this essay was, hm, a big part of this year's grade?" you asked, avoiding looking in his dark eyes. "If so, can I do something else to improve my grade?"

He swallowed before answering, his serious tone implicating he didn't want to be having this conversation.

"You used to be my best student, Miss y/l/n, but this year you turned into the worse," he said, pausing in that terrible way only he knew. If your last year's grade hadn't been an Outstanding, I would have written you off my class by now."

You stared at Snape, unsure of what to do next and terrified of the man before you. He never treated you that way.

"Sorry to bother, Professor," you said, leaving right away, knowing very well that he had just ruined your rest of the day, including the night with your girls.

But what would you tell them? They would say that Snape was always like that. And even Casey, who was bloody smart, didn't have classes with Snape anymore. She would say for you to drop it too.

Your mind led your feet to the Moaning Myrtle's abandoned bathroom. There, your cry could be confused with hers by those who passed by. Thus, no one would disturb you.

The ghost wasn't even startled when she heard you come in, crying, and throw yourself on the floor near the sinks. Myrtle has seen you there since the school year started when you read your mother's first letter.

You usually went there at night, when you were sure you wouldn't see anyone. But after years of trusting Professor Snape — and believing that he would never mistreat you — what you heard today was the culmination.

When you decided you had cried enough, you headed out of the bathroom, holding your Potions (terrible) essay closer to your chest. You walked around the castle, but, perhaps, your eyes lost contact with your brain — the next thing you knew, you ran smack into Fred Weasley.

As if I needed more reasons for wanting to die.

You stumbled backwards, and your essay slipped from your arms, heading straight to the floor.

The ginger boy grasped you by both shoulders, his big hands catching you before you had the chance to slip over your own feet.

"Watch it," he said, steadying you.

You two were standing way too close to each other, and once again, you could smell his cheap cologne, this time it seemed to spread all over your body. Bloody hell, am I gonna smell like Weasley now? You shivered with disgust, but he misread it.

"Trouble standing up?" he joked, looking down at you with a cocky smirk.

He was really tall — you'd forgotten that, sitting next to him at the Three Broomsticks that night.

"Do I make you weak in the knees?"

Ignoring his stupid question, you knelt down to get the essay, and he did the same, grabbing it first. You forgot how to breathe for a second, hoping he wouldn't try to read it — and notice all the corrections Snape had made with permanent ink.

However, as soon as he grabbed it, he was handing it over to you.

You took it and brought it back closer to your chest, stepping away from him and his stupid perfume and stupid touch that sent weird and uncomfortable chills through your spine.

You were starting to walk away, leaving him behind when you heard:

"Thank you, Weasley," he attempted to copy your accent. "See you around, Weasley."

But you rolled your eyes and didn't even venture to look at him again.

How you managed to get out of your dorm and show up was all Jess and Casey's fault. If they hadn't been talking about you going out all week, and then Jess almost crying for you to appear, you would've rather very much stayed in bed.

You drummed your fingers on the wooden surface of the bar, your mind far away from the muggle music and your very dance-pants friends.

Your mind was tricking you in remembering about your father, something you were really trying to push away. Why hadn't you insisted on staying with Dad? Why hadn't you read mom's letters?

You kept imagining your dad, wallowing in his misery… alone. You wondered if at least your mom would visit him at St. Mungos. They were never the clingy type of couple, but maybe now she could be more sentimental.

But neither you were sentimental. So why now? Why care so much for your dad when he was never that much of an extraordinary parent?

"Evenin', Duffy."

Why did that nitwit have to sit next to you?

"Go away, Fred," you scolded, looking down at your fingers, playing with your empty mug.

"I can't, " he said. "First of all, the only reason you're here's that I taught you and your friends how to scape Hogwarts," you rolled your eyes while he continued, "besides, I'm not one to give up easily. I am set to snog one of your friends," he shrugged as if he was the biggest gentleman on Earth.

"Then go talk to the one," you suggested, not even turning to see his face.

"I would, but Fred Weasley doesn't chase girls. They chase him."

His sentence stayed in the air around as for a second before you burst in laughter. He couldn't be sober to say something like that. You faced him, finally, and confirmed — he very much had just arrived, so he wasn't drunk. He was just stupid.

Handsome, but stupid.

"Til they come to me, you get the honour of my company," he said, and then he took your mug away from your restless fingers. "Lucky for me, it doesn't look like you're armed with a beverage tonight."

You awaited for his laugh, but it never came.

"What is it with you today?"

"Already told you I'm not in the mood, Weasley," you reminded him.

"What's wrong?"

"Go...away," you warned, slowly.

You no longer good handle the tension burning inside you, it had to be released in some way, and it needed to be right then. But you didn't want to cry, not in front of a bunch of students partying, and there was no way you were going to vent with the dimwitted next to you, and punching someone would just get Rosmerta disappointed.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Fred asked, touching your shoulders carefully. He was forcing you to face him, even though he was being too gentle for his usual. "y/n?"

Then it was like your systems had stopped working — like a magic spell went wrong. Your only excuse is that you were under an unbelievable amount of stress, and you detected an exit.

You needed a distraction, and your chance was staring at you with sparkly eyes. Regret was the last thing you were thinking about.

An opportunity sat on the barstool beside you, and you lunged at it, literally.

You kissed Fred Weasley.

You grabbed him by polo neck of his red t-shirt, pulling him closer and locking your lips on his. He froze at first, but it didn't take him more than three seconds to understand what was happening, and the hand once on your shoulder was now on you cheeks.

Fred returned your urge, biting your lower lip, making his way inside your mouth with his tongue. Your hands left his neck and went to his hair, surprised to find soft hair.

His hands flew to your sides and pulled you toward him as if his hair was the secret to his horniness. As you wrapped your fingers in the strands of red hair, his fingertips dug into your waist.

It worked better than punching someone would have. Not only did it help you release the tension, but it distracted you. It's hard to think about your dad when you're making out with somebody.

He leaned into me, and I hauled at him so hard that Fred nearly fell off his bar stool. At that moment, both just couldn't get close enough to each other. Your separate seats seemed like they were miles apart.

Nothing existed, but the physical connection — there were no emotions in the way. It was amazing not to think. Nothing! Nothing… until he screwed it up.

His hand slid up from your waist, lingering along your back, and came to a stop around your boobs. Everything flooded back, and you suddenly remembered who had his lips on yours.

As fast as you jumped on him, you leaned away, taking your hands from his hair and shoving him away.

His hands dropped, one landing on your knee, as he pulled away. He looked astonished but weirdly pleased.

"Wow, Duff, that was—", but he never finished. You were already gone, running out of the bar and rushing to get to the secret passageway.

You didn't look back. If Fred followed, once you got to Hogwarts, he turned around.

When you reached your dorm and jumped on the bed, your heartbeat was impossible to keep track. You told yourself it was because of the run back to the school, but your mind was still playing flashes of the snogging session that had just happened.

It wasn't fair to remember his touch and how out of limits he was —good kisser, but still a jerk.

You didn't want to admit it, but you were madder at yourself than at him.

Two days.

That was the amount of time you managed to stay away from Fred Weasley since the little "incident".

One thing was for sure: it had numbed completely any stress your father situation was afflicting him. It had even made you forget about your recent bad grades.

Now, every time you got distracted, the only thought that filled your mind was a non-stop replay of the kiss you and Fred shared. It made you feel weirdly sick in the stomach, and you swore you could feel his disgusting touch as if it dirtied your body forever.

Jess and Casey didn't even bother arguing with you about leaving early that night — they felt guilty because they left you alone at the counter. Of course, you didn't tell them about the whole Weasley situation, but, even though Jess seemed clueless, Casey noticed your change in action.

How defensive you were towards their questions, more than usual. How you avoided spending too much time at the Great Hall.

So, when she purposely asked you to watch her Quidditch practice, you knew she was testing you. Perhaps Casey thought something worse was happening to your dad and if that was her bet, you wouldn't be the one to make her see the other side of the coin.

"Came to watch me play?" an annoying voice asked, calling your attention to your left where Fred Weasley stood flying up in his broom. His torso was tilted towards you, who was sitting in the stands.

One look was all you took for your mind to fill with disgusting memories, and your stomach was killing you once again. You faced back the field, where Casey was supposed to be practising, but, apparently, the thing was over because she and her teammates were nowhere to be found.

That explains the Gryffindor in his robes, you thought, sighing and gathering your things before getting up.

Fred was still staring at you, analyzing, expecting.

"I'm not here for you, Weasley," you spat.

Your temper surprised him, but he managed to recover before you could notice.

"What a pity," he sighed, letting the corner of his lips turn up. "I thought you wanted a second dose of fun."

You stared at him, with your angry issues burning up. If before kissing him he already had his ways of pissing you off, now it was like he was power was ten times stronger.

Your first thought was to hex him right there and then, but he wasn't worth that much worry.

"That wasn't fun, Weasley," you decided to state the obvious; something Fred seemed to have been having trouble understanding.

"You seemed very entertained twirling your fingers in my hair," he smirked, holding a chuckle while your eyes widened and you closed your fists.

"That was a mistake; I wasn't in my right mind," you said, clenching your teeth in rage. That boy was driving you crazy.

From behind him, you recognized Casey, walking on the field, already out of her Quidditch robes and holding her broom with just one hand. You knew that was your way out.

"Fine, blame it on the butterbeer," he sighed, "if it's what makes you sleep at night."

"What makes you think, Weasley," you paused, stepping closer to the end of the stands and closer to the ginger, "that I think about you at night?" you raised your tone involuntarily, letting your emotions get the best of you.

"Your body language, for one, Duff," Fred smirked again, feeling his win just because you were getting out of control.

Last time you were raged like that you had kissed him, so perhaps it could happen again.

But the nickname set you back. You were still bitter, but now you remembered why — it was because of that shallow nickname and that stupid boy.

You turned around and stepped away, to the end of the stands. You needed to get out of there as fast as you could.

"See you around too, Duff," you heard Fred shouted, but you didn't dare look back.

Casey met you at the end of the stairs, where a bunch of Gryffindors were crossing paths with the Ravenclaws leaving.

"Was that Fred Weasley? Talking to you?" was the first thing Casey asked when you were close to her enough to hear.

"Yep," you sighed, still tense because of your conversation.

"Godric! Is he hot in his Quidditch uniform!" she gasped, but different from you, she had that romantic, girly look on her face again. It made you wanna vomit.

"Please, Cass, you can find someone hotter than him," you protested, frowning.

"Someone hotter doesn't take Fred's hotness away," she argued, raising a brow towards you. She was messing with you, of course, but knowing it didn't make it easier. She didn't know about the kiss, so for all purposes' sake, she still thought you would never even touch him.

"Can't you just pine over — hmm, I don't — George Weasley, his twin?" you said, sarcastically. "If you think Fred's hot, George is too, and I'm pretty sure he's a better person."

"Too vanilla," she replied as if it proved her point.

"How would you know?" you asked, but couldn't help but burst in laughter with her, both very sure this conversation wasn't going anywhere.

Casey was right again. Not about George being vanilla — that you couldn't be sure, being that you had never talked to the chap. You couldn't manage to say more than three words to George, his presence always made you kinda weak in the knees.

But George didn't know about it, and neither did your best friends, and you intend in leaving thing at that. George was kind of your platonic crush, it was healthy to have one (probably), and he was never cross that line.

Funny, huh, how George made you feel starstruck, and Fred made you wanna kill yourself.

The thing Casey was right was about Fred being hot and charming. He was appearing more times than often in your mind, and for the rest of the week, he no longer popped as a replay of a kiss. Fred was appearing in your mind as new sexy scenarios, things a deep part of you wanted to experiment. And apparently, with him. Yikes.

You tried to convince yourself that those scenarios were with George (had happened before) but, at this point, you knew how to differentiate the two very well. And, deep down, you knew who was the ginger biting your neck and intertwining his legs in yours.

And that infuriated your guts.

"You did that for what?"

Your question echoed to the Great Hall, with a dozen of heads turning to what the little show you were putting on.

It was not your intention to make a scene, but, at that moment, you were more enraged than you'd ever been your whole life. Casey was your best friend, and you knew sometimes she was bold for the greater good, but you doubted that doing what she did was for the greater good.

Because you were feeling like shit.

She had intercepted your owl with your mom's letter about your father's condition. Casey had observed that you were ignoring your mom's messages — last night she went to your dorm room with Jess for a girls night, and ended up finding accidentally a box packed with the parchments unopen.

So she planned on getting your owl before it dropped its letter over you and she managed to sit next to you and starting reading it aloud, without telling you what she was reading.

It was only when she got to the second line of the thing — "they say they are doing everything they can and they don't want to raise our hopes, because his chance of recovery is almost none"— that you realized that it was your mom's words.

You got so angry as never before, shouting at Casey to shut up, and without overthinking, you cast a fire spell on the thing. Thankfully she dropped the parchment before it burned her hands, but that doesn't mean that she didn't get angry at you too.

Jess watched and came closer, trying to find words to say, but she didn't know what was happening and she didn't want to side with anyone.

You felt the urge to cry, but, not in hell, you were doing it in front of the whole school. You gathered your bag and ran out of that place, not looking back — even though Casey was screaming "I'm sorry", and Jessica was asking you to wait.

"Hey, wait up," a voice called, this time it didn't belong to a girl.

You froze at your spot, your feet slowly turning to face the boy following you in the empty hallway. Traitors, you wanted to say to your feet.

"Not now, Weasley," you said, trying hard to look away, but once his dark eyes met yours, you just couldn't bring yourself to walk away.

"Then, when? You need to talk," he pointed out, taking his hands out of his pockets, not yet breaking the eye contact. It was like he knew that he looking at you was the only thing keeping you there.

"You heard the show, huh."

"Just saw you, angrily walking away," he said while you nervously grabbed your bag's handle. "Thankfully, there was no butterbeer in your hands."

His attempt to joke went not as smoothly as he expected. You faced your shoes, biting your lip with the stupid idea that popped in your mind. You knew what you planned wasn't right.

But when he stepped towards you, it felt natural.

"Just shut up, Weasley," you said, before getting on your tiptoes and leaning in to kiss him.

He was surprised, again, but this time he was quick to respond and somehow smarter — he grabbed your waist and guided you to a door that only he knew existed in that hallway.

It was a broom closet, probably the brooms first-years use to train flying.

This time there was no inhibition. Fred's mouth in yours was not going to be enough to forget you fighting with Casey and your mom's words about your dad. You needed more. Thankfully, Fred Weasley was more than pleased to serve, fastly taking your white shirt off while you unbuttoned his pants.

"Are you sure of this, Duff?" he asked before pulling your black skirt up.

"I said shut up, Weasley," you reminded him, in a bossy tone. And in case he tried to open his mouth again, you locked it with yours.

Things were worse than ever before.

After Casey's episode, you hadn't talked to her ever since. She tried, the first few days, but she saw you were ignoring her and with time, she gave up. Jess attempted to convince you to talk to Casey, and for that, you started ignoring Jess too.

Your grades weren't getting better any time soon — Professor Snape was now no longer the only one complaining to you about it. Thankfully, the other Professors were more understanding about it than Severus — the school knew about your father situation.

Oh, yeah. About your parents: since Casey attempt to read you a letter, you haven't touched one yet. And you weren't going to do it anytime soon.

The only person you were hanging out with — by Merlin, you never thought that would happen — was Fred Weasley.

It was easygoing with him because there wasn't much talking to do. He knew better than to ask you anything related to your personal life — even though he tried, a lot.

You two would meet primarily at the Room of Requirement — it usually provided a bed for you, so that was more comfortable than any broom closet. If he ever attempted to make conversation, you'd shut him up with your lips and locking your fingers in his hair — that was his soft spot for sure.

You noticed he was trying to be your friend, more than just a hookup because he was lately scheduling your meetings in places where more people were around — therefore you couldn't just kiss him.

Today, you two were meeting after his Quidditch practice. In his defence, you had indeed mentioned how hot after-trainings sex could be, and that was, probably, where he got the idea.

You were waiting for him in the ground leaned in the entrance to the stairs to the stands, laughing with yourself, because, not long ago, when he mentioned you waiting for him at the Quidditch field, you thought the idea was absurd.

"There he is," you said, placing your hands in the back pockets of your jeans, walking side by side with a just showered Fred Weasley.

"You came."

"You said for me to come," you replied, tilting your head towards him and chuckling. It wasn't like you and any other places to be, but he didn't need to know.

"Hey, Fred, what are we..." started George, rushing to Fred's side and gasping at the notice of you. "Oh, hey, y/n."

So nice to have a Weasley calling you by your name instead of the stupid "duff" thing Fred seemed to love.

But that was George — the George Weasley — and all you managed to do was blush and nervously say hello back.

"Well, brother, got do something with y/n first, but, later, we can..."

"— don't bother with me! I'm sure we can hang out the three of us," you interrupted Fred, glad this time you didn't stutter.

Fred practically spat out a laugh, looking at you like you were crazy. "We? With my own twin?"

You pushed Fred by the shoulder, disgusted by the bullshit he had suggested.

"We can change our plans," you elaborated. "That's what I meant, Fred."

George's eyes went from you to Fred, not sure of what to say next. He didn't know what was going on between the two of you — you'd threatened Fred that you'd kill the whole Weasley family if he decided to say something.

"Are you sure? Fred and I can do the prank later."

"It's a prank? Then count me in!" you smiled, pushing Fred's shoulder again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

There was one exact reason why Fred didn't tell you — it's because you weren't interested, especially in personal stuff and principally in pranks.

"Wow, y/n, I reckon I've never seen you so excited," George commented, smiling.

The three of you started walking away from the Quidditch field while Fred mumbled something about him being the reason for your excitement — for that you replied with pinching his left arm.

You had never laughed so hard in your life. Fred, George and you were sitting on the floor of the empty library, leaning your backs against a dusty shelf in the dark corner of the room.

"Did you see his face?" George giggled, placing a hand over his chest where his heart was beating extra fast.

All of the hearts there were beating fast.

It was almost midnight, and by the school rules, you three should be in bed, but the amount of enthusiasm you were feeling was convincing you being a reckless student wasn't so bad.

You were sitting in the middle of the twins, your hands tossed on the floor — the left one just a couple of centimetres away from Fred's. He was watching you, paying very close attention at how the red slowly painted your face back, since it had been white because of all the running from Filch to not get caught.

"Thanks for tagging me along," you said, with a small smile, looking at George.

"Anytime," George said, thinking it was the right thing to do. "You're fun to be around. I see why you wanted to hang out with her, Freddie."

You would've teased Fred about the silly nickname if it wasn't gonna ruin the beautiful moment you and George were having.

Fred watched his twin and you, giggling with each other, talking about random funny stuff related to Argo Filch, but he couldn't hear the conversation quite well. He could only focus on how you were leaning towards George, and how, involuntarily, your hand ran away from his.

"Well, chaps, I've gotta keep going," George announced, getting up and shaking the dust out of his clothes. You pouted, saddened by the departure of your favourite twin.

Fred didn't even breathe, scared that would make his brother want to stay. It wasn't like he was addicted to you — Godric, no! — but he was really looking forward to spending some time with you. Just with you.

"So soon?" you replied, noticing that one prank and you now could speak perfectly well with George. You had no idea why it became uncomplicated, but spending time with him only made you notice what you already knew — he's very different from Fred. "See you later, then."

"See ya," George then turned around and walked out of the library, making sure he wasn't being heard.

As soon as George was away, Fred turned to you, using his hand to bring you face towards him. You allowed it, not really having much choice when he touched you like that.

"Why did want to prank with us?" he asked, looking straight into your eyes.

You shrugged, saying nothing. But something in your expression — maybe the quick thought of George — gave you away.

"George," Fred sighed, surprisingly angry, but not enough for you to notice. His hand fell from your face to his side. "You like him."

"Puff! What? No. What?"

Yeah, your reaction wasn't the best. But Fred shrugged, letting his jealous side hide and acting like a jerk because it was so much easier than caring.

"Are you only with me because I look like him?" he asked, making sure his tone sounded like he was playing with you instead of really curious.

"No!" you replied, faster than you expected. "First of all, I'm not with you. Secondly, no, Freddie," — you used the nickname to mess with him — "I didn't pick you because of George. I picked you because you were there."

Fred stayed in silence, absorbing your answer.

You were suddenly lost in your thoughts, remembering that first kiss not so long ago. And then you remembered all of those lonely nights at the Three Broomsticks, where your only companies were Rosmerta and... Fred.

"You are always there."

"Yeah," Fred sighed, not sure of what you meant with that. However, he was still in jerk mode, and for that, his hand flew back to touch you, this time choosing more sensitive regions, like your belly, particularly, above the waistband of your jeans, a place that Fred had already learned to be one of your weak spots. "So, is now when you're doing what we had scheduled to do?"

You turned to face him, making it easier for him to reach your abdomen.

"Do you only think about that?"

He pretended to be thoughtful.

"Yes."

It came as a hell of a surprise when you were called to the Headmaster's office. You had been doing nothing — aside from escapades with Fred, and trying to get back to your studies, you haven't been doing much — so you didn't stall to see why they needed you.

You were even more surprised when the person awaiting fro you in the office was your mom.

"Hi, sweetie," she tried to smile but failed.

You didn't move since you opened the door and saw her, because her visit probably meant something you didn't want to be true.

"Is he dead?"

"What, sweetie? What did you say?" she asked.

"Dad. Is he...?" you whispered again, not brave enough to say it too loud.

"Oh, Merlin, no! That's why I'm here, actually. He called for you yesterday," she explained, stepping closer to you since you haven't been moving. "I sent you a letter, but you didn't reply, and I was so anxious..."

"Father called me? He said my name?" you were shocked because last time you saw him, he had no idea who you were.

"Yes, sweetie. I guess he remembers you," she smiled. "And me," she added.

"Can I see him?" you were fighting tears at this point.

"Of course, sweetie! That's why I'm here," she smiled, and opened her arms, knowing very well that all you wanted to do was bury your face on her chest, just like when you were little and scared. But this time, all you felt was happiness.

Returning to Hogwarts was hard. Not because you were sad — Merlin, that had been your best weekend ever! You father was almost completely recovered, although now and then he was saying some gibberish.

It was hard to come back because you wished you'd stayed longer with your dad, but your mom knew you needed to finish your school year before anything else.

A conversation that you had with your father kept replaying in your mind since you walked in the school. It was before you left when he encouraged you to enjoy your life because he wished he had enjoyed his more — especially when he thought he was dying, having Death Eaters play with his mind.

So when you saw George in the hallway, you knew you had to do something about your whole starstruck situation.

"Hey!" you called him.

"Hi, y/n," he faced you, a smile appearing in his lips. "Haven't seen you all weekend."

"I had to be away. Dad's stuff," you really didn't want to tell him about it right there. "Anyway... I don't know how to say this, but I've been feeling incredibly confident lately, so here it goes... Would you like to go on a date with me?"

You had no idea how you manage to say it. Perhaps pranking someone together does change a person, but while you waited for his reply, George didn't seem so hard to talk to.

"You want to go out... with me?" he played with his hair while saying it.

"Yep," you gulped, suddenly regretting you recently discovered confidence.

"Okay," he frowned for a second before smiling lightly. "Three Broomsticks, Wednesday?"

"Perfect. See you there?"

He shook his head in response, then turned and walked away. You stayed there, expecting a wave of happiness to come, but it never did. That's odd, you thought, before heading to your dorm, which, weirdly enough, you had missed.

When you pushed the door open, you saw the two figures sitting on your bed, as if they had been waiting for you for a long time. Jess and Casey looked at you as you walked n, with sympathetic smiles on their faces.

"What are you two doing here?" you asked, but you weren't mad. Just curious.

You had missed them too.

"I'm here to apologize. Should've done it sooner, but you didn't allow me," said Casey, getting up and stepping closer to you. "I now know your father is better, but you were right, that letter could have something horrible written on it and had no right reading it."

You stared at her, unconsciously reaching for her hand, anxious to meet her hot touch again. You were still happy, of course, but that talk made you bit sentimental.

"I'm sorry, y/n," she said, allowing you to hug her and hugging you back in the way only she knew how. Jess jumped out of bed and embraced the two of you; although you couldn't see her face, you'd bet she was smiling and crying at the same time.

The three of you stayed like that for a while.

"But, thank Merlin, he's okay now," Casey continued, slowly pulling away from the group hug.

"How do you..."

"Fred told us," said Jess, sitting back on your bed and suggesting you two did the same.

"Fred? Fred Weasley? How did he know?" you were completely startled.

"He asked about you. The three of us were confused because, well, he was right, nobody had seen you," Jess explained. "Long story short, McGonagall told him about your dad, and he told us."

You gulped, taking in that new information. Fred worried about you, that was new. Well, you did leave with no warning, but for a not-a-friend with benefits, you never consider he would care if you disappeared.

"Did he say anything else?" you rounded, suddenly worried he could have told them about your little escapades.

"Should him? Your father is okay, right?" Casey entered a worried-mom mood, and Jess seemed to be concerned too.

"My father is getting better, yes," you replied, but now it was too late. They were curious, you sighed, knowing very well that, as your best friends, they had all the right to know what was going on. "I may — or may not — have started a no-strings-attached relationship with Fred Weasley."

"You did what??" Casey widened her eyes towards you.

You spend half an hour explaining to the girls what was going on in your sex life, and they were good listeners, never interrupting unless you paused. You missed those girly talks so much that you wondered how you managed to spend weeks not talking to them.

"Wait. But your date for Wednesday is George?" asked Jess, clearly confused with the end of your story.

"I never had the guts before," you said, remembering how only the idea of asking George out would've made you weak in the knees a year ago.

"But you like Fred," she stated, convinced she was correct.

"What? No. Why did you...? Merlin, no," you rambled. You thought you had made it clear that being around Fred longer than necessary made your stomach sick and everything.

Jess and Casey exchanged looks as if they knew something you didn't.

"Fred's repugnant. He still calls me Duff, can you believe it? I mean, 'hello, honey, if I'm such the disgusting, ugly friend, why do you sleep with me?' " you said, laughing with yourself, imagining you facing Fred and telling him that. But the girls kept with their suspicious stares. "I did explain what is Duff, right?"

"You did," said Casey.

"Still not convinced you don't like Fred, though," added Jess, raising a brow towards you.

"I don't! Besides, now, I don't need him. I'm going on a date with his brother, and my father is fine. I have no worries," you reminded them, getting up from your bed. "Well, maybe one problem. I still need better grades."

"That I can help," said Casey, allowing her nerdy Ravenclaw shine.

You tried to corner Fred the whole Tuesday, but he seemed to be nowhere to be found, until after dinner, when you approached him when he was leaving. Thankfully, he was alone.

"So you are back," he said, looking you up and down in that way that only he knew. You looked around the hallway, scared that students leaving the Great Hall could hear you two talking, so you gesticulated for him to follow you to the broom closet — coincidently, where it all started was going to be its end too.

"Fred, we need to talk," you said, closing the door behind you and trying to find the light switch.

"You finally realized?" he sounded hopeful, with a playful smile on his lips.

"Realized what?"

He was set back with your response. Fred was thinking of something else when he asked you that, but he wasn't going to let you win. Although you really didn't have any idea what he was talking about.

"Realized you can't live without me."

"HA! Very funny, Weasley," you said, rolling your eyes.

He stepped closer to you, expecting you to do what you generally did in that closet, and, even though, his perfume made you lose your senses for a second (that didn't use to happen before, did it?).

"Well, I brought you here because... You see, we aren't doing this anymore," you swallowed after saying it — it was as if a knife was held in your neck.

He leaned in, looking down at you. His playful smile was long gone.

"You want to do it the right way. I get it," he said, pressing his lips together for a pause. "We could just jump to the fun part."

"Fun part? There isn't a...", but you weren't able to finish. His lips met yours mid-phrase, and as usual, you couldn't care about anything else but his lips.

What was the thing I need to tell him? Never mind now.

Your hands were playing with his hair, but something was different this time. There was still an urge — one that shouldn't be there, giving that you had no problems to forget right now — but you two were acting slowly, appreciating every touch.

When with Fred, you never felt ashamed of your body, but somehow this time you were very self-conscious, afraid that he wouldn't like you. Which was stupid — he had been... with you for too long to now started caring about your form.

What you didn't know what was that, if anything, he was finding you even more beautiful tonight, with the weak light of the closet highlighting every gorgeous curve of your body.

While you two undressed (with his lips away from yours), you were able to remember you shouldn't be there, snogging him and well, about to do other things with him. You had gone there to end this thing.

You sighed, too perplexed at the view of the ginger boy's body. The light was also highlighting his best spots.

A good-bye, you concluded with yourself. You were allowing yourself one last night, before staying away from Fred.

And if it was going to be a good-bye, you were sure you wanted to make it the best yet.

When you asked George out, he had been puzzled, and really scared of what to do next.

You had never jumbled him with Fred before — and after spending so much time with his twin doing Merlin knows what he expected you to never do it.

He thought it was rather cute that you took the first step and asked Fred out. Well, you did confuse the twin, but George assumed you probably were too nervous with your own feelings.

So using his best "hey, brother, this is gonna sound funny" voice, he went to find Fred to tell him that he had a date with the girl he had pining over for the last month.

George had never seen Fred say no to other girls, neither had George seen Fred stay in the castle for a Friday night, then a skip a Hogsmeade trip. You had changed Fred, even though George was sure Fred had not noticed it yet.

"What is it, George?" Fred asked, anxious to leave and meet you, no matter where you could be. He had heard that you had just got back in the castle and he just... he wanted to make sure you were alright.

"y/n, she... well," George nervously giggled. "She mixed us. She thought I was you."

"Really?" Fred was not expecting at this stage for you to mix him with his brother.

"Yeah, and hm, this is funny," George gulped before continuing. "I think she asked you out. On a date."

"She what??"

"Yeah, I guess she was on a rush, because of her father, and she said something about feeling confident," George went on. "Anyway, I said yes because I knew you'd have said yes. It's Wednesday. At the Three Broomsticks."

Fred stared at his brother as if he had solved all the problems in the world.

"She really did that?"

George shook his head yes and pointed out: "Don't mention she mixed us. It will probably make her feel worse."

"Are you sure she thought you were me?" Fred asked, overthinking it.

"Well, of course. Why else would y/n ask me out?"

You had to borrow a foundation from Jess (your skin tones were not so similar, but it was enough) because on the last night, Fred had exaggerated a little.

He never left a mark on his body, but yesterday he had overcome himself. As the brush rubbed the foundation on your neck, you remembered the night before.

"You are mine, Duff," he said, between one hickey and another. "Just mine."

Unintentionally, you lost yourself in thought, your mind continuing its replay from the night before, as you brushed your sensitive skin.

"Only I can make you feel this way; only my touch makes you shiver," whispered Fred, and incredibly, it was true. But he was Fred, and it couldn't go on.

So when it was over, and you both were too tired, you got dressed and stared at him, knowing what was coming next.

"Thank you, Fred, seriously. For everything," he watched you as you gulped nervously. "But this really can't go on. I have a date tomorrow."

"I know."

You were about to leave, but you immediately turned, facing him with wide eyes.

"You asked George out. I know," he seemed sad. And you have never seen Fred sad before. You wanted to do something, but what could you do really?

"Fred, I..."

"Look, you had your good-bye, y/n. You can get out now," Fred said. "Go hide. It's what you do, right?"

"Hey, don't turn this on me!"

"Somehow, this is my fault?" Fred asked while putting on his pants. Although angry, he didn't seem scary. "What you want me to do, y/n? I'm the jackass womanizer, aren't I? Go get the better twin."

"Fred Weasley!" you shouted his name, trying to shut him up. "We were never a couple; don't act as if you care now! Don't act like you're jealous!"

"Why? Because I can't be jealous of you? I can't care about you?" he shouted back.

"Care about me? You call me Duff, Weasley. All the damn time! How am I supposed to know you care about me if you keep reminding me how ugly, fat and disgusting I am?"

Silence fell upon the two of you.

That was the knife in your neck all along. The stupid nickname, it all came back to it. Fred had no idea how much power that nickname had over you.

"I never meant it that way, y/n," he said, gulping slowly.

"No?" you asked sarcastically. "Really? I remember you telling me I have hotter friends."

"But that was before!" he protested.

"Before what?" you asked, but his reply never came. The words he couldn't say died in his chest — buried forever. "See you around, Weasley, " you said, before opening the door and leaving, without looking back.

You shook your head, slowly coming back to reality. The hickeys were enough hidden. It didn't look perfect, but the Three Broomsticks had terrible lighting, so it would be okay.

You wanted to stay in, curled up in bed, playing in repeat your good-bye, and blame yourself for that sadness in your chest, but you were too embarrassed to dump George.

The place was crowded — Hogwarts older students were practically all there, having the time of their lives on the dance floor. You wished George could never find you, so you went to the counter to hide behind a mug of butterbeer.

"Hey there, pretty," said Madam Rosmerta, who have missed you all those nights without you. "Butterbeer?"

"You know it," you said, about to throw her a coin when someone pressed a hand on your shoulder.

"Make it two," he said, and he didn't even need to speak to you know who it was. That cheap perfume was going to be the death of you. "It's on me," he told you, tossing his own coin to Rosmerta who disappeared to get the mugs.

"He's not coming," he added a second later, hating the silence around you two.

"I figured it. When I saw you," you explained, gulping.

Rosmerta brought two mugs back, and both of you took a sip from it, unsure of what to say next.

It wasn't like you two fought last night because you hated each other. In fact, it was probably the complete opposite, but both looked like stupid cowards, afraid of your own feelings.

"Look, I..." he started, but you interrupted him, placing your hand on his arm over the counter.

"Let me say this first," you said, locking your eyes on his. "I shouldn't have asked your twin out. Even if we were just friends; what I did was a jerk move."

"You liked him first," Fred pointed out, trying to defend you from yourself.

You chuckled. "Oh, Merlin, no. I thought he had a pretty face," you explained, tilting your head towards him, and he understood your joke right away, joining in the laughter. "And he seemed like a nice guy. Like, huh, I thought he could treat me nicely," you looked away from his big eyes, facing the shelves with liquor.

"But?"

"What?" you asked him, turning to face him once again.

"I feel like there was a 'but'."

You smiled.

"But you also have a pretty face, and recently, you've come to treat me nice too," you said, and he pressed his lips together while slowly shaking his head up and down. "Well, actually, if it's just between you and me, your face is prettier."

He raised his brows. "Is it?"

"And your body too," you added, just to make him smile.

"Is mine bigger?" he asked, back to his normal joker self.

You pushed him lightly by the shoulder, not hard enough for him to fall off the stool.

"Never saw his, sorry," you decided to tease, and you both giggled.

"I'm sorry. About the Duff thing and all," he said, swallowing. "I kept the nickname because I thought it was cute. If I knew it bothered you so much, I'd have stopped. And I wouldn't have used it during sex."

"I'm okay with it now, I guess," you said. "It wasn't that bad hearing it during sex if I'm honest."

You tilted your head to the left, biting your tongue to not laugh because it was not funny. But Fred just had a way to ease your mood.

You thought silence was going to hunt you two again when Fred spoke.

"Is this the part where you admit you have feelings for me?" he smirked, placing his hands on your knees, relaxing you even more.

"Maybe," you chuckled. "Is this the part where you admit you have feelings for me?"

"Yes," he said, surprising you. "I have feelings for you."

"Well, I have feelings for you too, Freddie," you smiled, passing your fingers through his strong arms.

"You're not gonna forget that nickname, are you?" he faced away while asking.

"Nope."

"Fine by me, Duff," he replied, messing with you too. He then leaned closer, pressing his lips on yours, and it didn't take long for his hands to find your waist and bring you as closer to him as the stools allowed.

"But we are going slower this time, Weasley," you warned, parting your lips for just a second.

He smiled in the kiss.

"It's always better that way," he replied, probably remembering the soft, slow sex from last night because you were sure remembering that too.

You slapped his arm just strong enough for him to pout, but you kept kissing him anyway. When you two kissed, nothing else mattered— it was only the two of you in the world.

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