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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

two tails | reader x minho |

Three

Pairing: self insert, female reader x lee minho

Genre: strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff

Tags: neighbors au, comfort fic, catowner!minho, catowner!reader, author!reader, bestfriend!seungmin, floristnpunk!jisung, gradstudent!jeongin, agedup!skz, slow burn, plot driven, gradual romance, lil bit of angst, strained parental relationship, explicit language, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of previous kinda sad relationships

Word count: 5.4k (y e e h a w)

Tagging: @lauraneuuh

Chapters

P | ONE | TWO | THREE | ?

zeal noun

: eagerness and ardent interest in the pursuit of something: fervor

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Seungmin never liked your cooking, or at least, he’d often mumble this into his spoon while beginning his second serving. He was probably just being nice, or respectful. Your best friend of four years had never been less.

Aside from the fact the he had a 70 pound golden retriever, never had you once seen a strand of that golden hair cling to the cloth of his winter coats. In the autumn, he would drive you in his hand-me-down ‘91 Mitsubishi to the city where you would tutor the English students just so you wouldn’t have to bear the cold of the subway. In the summers he would toss soju down his throat with you, sitting on the carpet of your living room and turning his head to the side with a hand raised to hide his glass. In the spring, he would remember your birthday--several months before his--and take you to coffee shops and bookstores, then the grocery store (which he knew you hated) and would buy for you the most expensive beef he could find.

You would cook the meat for the two of you, and he would say that he liked it...even if you had charred it black on the edges.

Seungmin flicked at the little aluminum tab on his beer can while he watched you murder yet another plate of perfectly fine vegetables on your stovetop.

“At least it smells nice.” You flipped the circle of white onion.

“It does.” He returned, nonchalant, flicking the beer tab a little poink.

“You’re being uncharacteristically quiet. Too tired to complain about those dicks from the marketing team? They put you on a shitty pitch again didn’t they?”

“Every pitch is a shitty pitch there. God, you wouldn’t believe the kinds of slogans that they make me say sometimes. It’s humiliating.”

“Hey, you’re the one that took the pay raise over that job at that high school.”

“Well, you didn’t have rent staring you dead in the face and a dog that’s practically active and sentient enough to be a real child.” He slugged down a sip of his drink. “I’m a single father you know.”

“As if!” You choked out your laughter. “Since when did you turn into Hyunjin? You were never one for dramatics anyway.”

“Go get your vegetables, they’ll burn.” He nodded his head to the stove. The thing was, they were already burnt.

You salvaged what you could of the vegetables then placed them over your rice balls (not intended to be balls in the first place) and the chicken strips which had undoubtedly been seasoned just a little too much. You slid the ceramic bowl in front of him. At least it was steaming. That was a good sign.

Seungmin nodded a little in thanks, then let out a less than obvious sigh before taking his first bite.

“Spicy...but good.”

The way that his breath sounded thin made it convincing enough to you that it wasn’t just “spicy.”

He scrunched up his face in that adorably puppy-like way that you had long gotten used to.

“Really. Tell me. It isn’t the pitches. Don’t pretend like I can’t read you.”

Your best friend squeezed his eyes shut with a rather generous slug of his beer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Whaaaat?” You whined a little while opening up your own can. “Oh my god. It’s that girl from the art division. She has a boyfriend doesn’t she? Dammit.”

“No.” Your friend drew the disdain in his eyes up to you from the chicken that had made his nose start to run. He wiped at it quickly.

“I hope it’s not my mother that’s getting to you. She’s too damn nosy for her own good and twice as cocky as she should be. Don’t listen to her. What did she tell you anyway?”

Seungmin poked at his food with his fork then twisted a crispy-tipped red pepper. “Have you talked to him again?”

“--Minho?”

You shied at the memory of meeting him on his morning run two days prior. He would go out at nearly 8:00 on the dot every morning, just when the sun started to peek into the dewy pink and blue mornings.

“You should put on a sweater if you’re going to get up this early for those plants of yours. Don’t want you catching a cold.”

“Yes.” You answered your friend. A tiny ache pinged at your chest--and it wasn’t the kind that felt all twisted. “He asked me to watch the meteor shower with him this weekend. I hope I can cook something edible for him.”

Seungmin’s knee bounced, “Aren’t you at least at little suspicious of him?”

“Suspicious? Why would I be?”

“You hardly even know anything about him, or where he came from, what he does for a living--”

“--Now you’re starting to sound like my mother Seung. Relax. Besides, sometimes it doesn’t take much to feel...comfortable around a person. I mean, look at us! Soju nights started like, three weeks after we met. And I do know where he works. He works for a company that makes windows; fancy ones.”

“Windows?” He cocked a brow.

“He did say that it was kind of boring...”

“I just--” Your friend sighed out, resting anxious hands on his knees. Here he was again, being nice and respectful, like always. “--You could get hurt if you’re not careful.”

“What?”

“I’m saying, don’t get your hopes up.”

“Geez Seung...” Your voice trailed off with a different pain in your chest. This was the kind that twisted.

His expression softened, and he lent a hand to your shoulder, lingering, squeezing lightly. “Your mom...she told me to look after you...not like I do that already with you falling all over yourself and burning things...I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Hm. Thanks.”

“You’re also miserable to deal with when you’re sad. You make me blow my grocery budget with how much frickin’ ice cream and freezer tater tots you force me to get.”

“You like those tater tots too though.”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Bomi purred in your lap swaddled into a little ball of white, orange, black and brown. She was napping, or rather, trying to nap with the way that her little cat-shaped eyes blinked slowly. You tried your best to soak every little moment of it up: you knew that with her, it would be fleeting. There was something supremely calming about being close to your little furball like this. After all the love that you poured over her in the form of useless cat toys and new cat food every week, this somehow made it all worth it.

You tapped lightly at your keyboard, not too harshly, just lightly enough so that you wouldn’t startle your sleeping cat. The tips of your toes were cold, but you didn’t dare to move to grab a blanket to ruin the moment. Outside, a light spring rain befell on your small cement patio. Droplets of the warm showers patted at the roof of your home softly.

Your eyes had grown tired and dry at this late hour, but the end of the chapter was near. One more time you hovered your mouse over the little notification bar, clicking at it for that one last push of motivation:

Bomi needs to quit MESSING AROUND. Blaze is right in front of her!!! Ahhhh I want them to get together soooo bad

Is Herbie okay?? Poor bb, its so cute how we would do anything for Bomi.

Bomi:

Blaze:

*now kiss*

Are we really getting to the end of Book 1??? This has been such an amazing story N/n, I always look forward to your updates <3 they make my Thursdays hehe

I can feel like something big and bad is coming...oh no...I hope that Blaze and Bomi make it through

A thankful little chuckle hummed on your lips, then you pressed enter to start a new paragraph.

“Oh Bomi,” You exhaled, “If only Blaze knew how you felt too.”

Chapter 27

...The group journeyed through the cavern with flickering white flames dancing and casting shadows on the stone walls dripping in stalactites. Bomi held on to the hilt of her sword tighter with a sense of dread creeping up her throat. Blaze looked onward, much as he had been doing these days.

His leg was wrapped in a bloodied bandage: a reminder of the battle won against the Boar in Hilgram. He had jumped in front of her as he had countless times before.

“Hello??” Blaze’s voice echoed against the long and winding chambers of the cave. In his tone he was confident, but his shoulders still shook with an uncertainty.

Herbie’s little hedgehog feet patted the damp floor, and he looked up at his Princess with fear in his soft black eyes. The little velvet banner wrapped around his body had been torn and tattered from one too many battles.

Had it been darker, Bomi wondered if she had reached out for Blaze’s hand to find in him. She shook her head with her resolve, eyes painfully shut. It was only in the darkness that she allowed herself to want for him.

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Today must be one of those spring-summer days.

Your warbled reflection chased after you in the blue glass of the university’s library windows. You had hoped that no one was on the other side watching you as you wrinkled up your nose to look like one of those devilish gargoyles that you had been writing of the night before. From the inside, rows and rows of books were lined up perfectly, however there were almost no students inside. It always did make you a little sad how few students would be there when you clocked in for your mandatory office hours.

Spring-summer days meant that the businesswomen on the sidewalks had exchanged with trousers with flowing skirts and little clicky ballet flats and each businessman had his tie and collar tugged down. There was a comforting warmth to the spring air that reminded you of your own college days when you and your friends--long gone now--had stayed up late to study, then would scour the buzzing streets for snacks. Things were much simplier then.

At the library’s entrance, budding tulips and geraniums of light purple hues were greeted by round bumblebees. Had the city not been as loud as it was, you could nearly hear the cicadas in the park on the east edge of the shining silver building.

You bowed slightly to the attendant at the desk who always would smile at you with adorable smiling eyes to match. She would often wear earrings of strange shapes that you had never seen before. She wore a lanyard too that had little cat paw prints decorating it; it was because of this you knew she was someone you could trust.

“Are you having a nice week?” You said to her customarily.

“Oh, I am. It’s always the same around here. My daughter will be having her baby soon! Sometimes I think that I’m more excited than she is.”

“You’ll have to tell me when that happens so I can bring her a gift, okay?”

The attendant smiled warmly, and nodded you off with a little oh, you don’t have to.

“Remember your key card this time?” She watched as you jingled around your own keys with the obsessive amount of plastic and silicon keychains.

You tsked. It seemed like nearly everyone in your life had now known how forgetful you tended to be sometimes.

“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be over there.”

Once more the two of you exchanged little bows and you made your way over to the back of the four storied library with the atrium of trees in between. There was a marble fountain encircled by the trees that had little oval shaped leaves. Two tiny birds, all black, bounced from branch to branch. It was your secret, but you had written about that fountain many times in your writing, but you were the only one who knew that it was real.

You tapped the reader to hear that familiar do-do doot along with the flash of the green lock. As always, the study room was a bit messy with eraser shavings sprinkled about and the odd dry marker laying next to the trashcan where someone had tried to toss it in, but had missed. The minute hand on the wall clock scooted right on to the 12.

“Are you busy?” That fluff on white hair peeked into your study room just like clockwork.

“For my favorite student? Do you even have to ask?”

Jeongin, the oldest and most attentive student in your class hopped in with his adorably boy-ish charm. Regardless of the fact that he was in the last year of his grad degree, it was impossible for him to look that old. You didn’t have the heart to tell him, but he technically shouldn’t have been in your class for undergrads, but you weren’t going to stop him.

“Why’d you decide to take this class anyway?” You would ask him.

He’d answer, “For fun.” with that cute little smile of his.

“I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“I just got here.” You pulled out a seat for him.

“Oh. Good. I was wondering if you could proof read my short story again. I’m having trouble with the ending. I just don’t think I understand all the way how to make it full circle like you said in lecture.”

He unzipped his leather backpack: obviously a gift from someone in his family that must have thought it would make him look his age. It didn’t. What didn’t help further was how he had adorned it with all kinds of keychains; much like your own keys. It was because of this that you knew he was someone you could trust.

His manuscript already had dozens of scribbles in his own handwriting with tons of question marks riddling the margins.

“Let me take a look.”

You skimmed the pages of the short story--one which you had already read the week prior--for all of his new edits. The notes made it a bit hard to read, but you were used to how he would make a mess of his papers now. He leaned in close to you with glossy eyes that might have even twinkled a little like a cartoon. Both of his knees bounced furiously while he watched you read, and would look from the paper, to your face, then back to the paper, then back to your face...

“Is-is it good? Better?”

Jeongin had written a love story. His first one that you had known of. It was about a boy and a girl who had met on an airplane, and had been seated together. The two of them found out that they had shared so much about their two lives without ever meeting until this very moment. They had realized they went to the same high school, worked in the same building, and were travelling for the same reason: to meet up with someone that they had once loved. It was beautiful, tragic, and in some ways, familiar.

“I think that it’s wonderful Jeongin. The edits that you made to it from last week really help with the narrative flow as well as the vertical plot. You’re really good at asking the deeper questions behind the piece like “why are they really there,” and “why is it important that they are there.” All you need to do is tie it up.”

“But howwww?” Jeongin slumped in his wheely chair. “What should I say?”

“Well...” You tapped your pen to your lip. “The ending scene is when they land at the airport right? Why don’t you have your main character say something that calls back to all of their similarities and makes it seem like they’ve known eachother all along?”

“But I don’t want it to seem like they’re going to forget eachother.”

“They won’t. You established that they’ve both found something different than what they were looking for in the first place.”

Your student’s face tangled up into concentrated knots and he puffed those thin strands of bleached white hair away from his eyes.

“I could say...‘see you at home’? Or...maybe that’s too cheesy--”

“--No it’s not! If you like it, I think that it also fits the story well. Its like, now they understand, and they’ve got something in eachother now that they hadn’t had before; also juxtaposing with your themes of travelling to make a reference to home.”

“Damn, you’re much better at this kind of stuff than I am...” Jeongin wrote down the new ending on his print out.

“Its just...what I like to do.”

“I’m glad I came.” He grinned out with his mischievous and trademark smile. “How’s your story going by the way? Almost finished?”

“Oh...”

A heat rose in your cheeks. You had decided to tell Jeongin about Princess Bomi a few weeks back, but you had neglected to tell him exactly what the story was about. That was a secret better kept to yourself.

“Its...good. I think. My readers seem to really like it.”

“Maybe you’ll let me read it someday. I bet there would be tons of other people who would like to read it too, you know, outside of the internet.”

“That’s what I’ve been told...” Hyunjin’s urgings echoed in your head. “Maybe...” Your eyes wandered to those scribblings of his. “How about we make a deal?”

“What kind of deal?”

“Once we get both of our stories sorted, lets submit them together. I’m sure people would like to read yours too.”

“Mine?!” Your adorable student’s face flushed as deeply pink as the sweater he wore. “Oh no, no no no no no.”

“I’m telling you it’s good! Its relatable, raw, well written. It never hurts to try. How about submitting it for the literary journal they do at the end of the semester?”

“You mean the one that all the arts majors read and fuckin’ eviscerate?? Hell no.”

“Hey, I could get eviscerated too by my chief editor.”

Jeongin gulped with his terrified, brown, cartoon-character glistening eyes boring holes into his manuscript.

You sang, “~Wanna go down together~?”

“A-as long as we’re going down together...I guess it’s worth a shot.”

“Alright then!!”

He made a little sound of disgust, then shoved his papers back into his much-too-old-for-him bag. “That was all I needed to ask you for. Thank you.” He bowed with respect. “I won’t be bothering you for too long today.”

“You wrote a good story Jeongin.”

“Mm. Thank you.” His smile turned into a tiny flustered line.

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

STUPID NEW CAT FOOD. AGAIN.

In one hand, you held the crinkled up grocery list with angry doodles of your cat folded into the corners of the page. You didn’t quite know if cats had eyebrows like the ones you had drawn onto your cat’s smug face, but you were for certain that this cat must’ve had them...and they were angry.

Bomi had selfishly decided at the end of your week that she no longer liked the last brand of cat food that you had found on the shelves of the grocery store. It was the brand stored next to the one that you had nearly concussed Minho with.

You were at your wits end. There must have been something wrong with your cat--to hell with her being a picky eater. Maybe she really was just a little alien inside there. A little alien that hated cat food. The image of you sitting at your dining table across from Bomi eating two plates of people food crossed your mind. She picked up the fork with her white paw and dabbed at her mouth with a cloth napkin. The idea didn’t seem the most out of reach.

In your other hand was your phone opened to the maps app with the small blue dot leading you to the specialty pet store.

“Damn spoiled, stuck up, good for nothing, pain in my as--”

“Hey! Blossom??”

Your head whipped around so fast you cracked the bones of your neck with a startling pop. You rubbed at your neck to ease the pain.

“You okay?”

At first you figured you must have dreamt him up in your neck-induced-pain. You cursed at your overactive imagination, still just as strong as it was when you had been small.

Blaze in the flesh he was alllll the way from his battered Converse to his stupidly handsome curly hair.

You laughed out incredulously with a hand still glued to the back of your neck.

“Didn’t think that I would be seeing you around here again. Or at least, I was kind of hoping that I would.”

He marched right up to you with that same smile you had pictured on Princess Bomi’s companion countless times before. Today he wore a leather jacket over the arms that you knew were covered in all kinds of flowers and vines. It hadn’t quite hit you yet that he had said he was hoping to see you.

“Sorry if I startled you. I was just...really surprised.”

“You’re fine, it’s fine.”

You neck didn’t tell you it was fine.

“What are you doing around here?”

“Pet store.” Was all you could get out. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you, but for someone who worked at a flower shop, he did end up smelling an awful lot like flowers. It was a sweet aroma, much like your garden.

“Ahh, I just got off.”

You walked on, also not noticing that he had started to follow you a couple steps behind.

“I realized I didn’t get your name last time.”

“Oh. It’s Y/n.”

He hummed with a smirk. “I do kinda like Blossom more.” He crammed his hands into his pants pockets with a wistful little sigh. “Pretty nickname for someone as pretty as yourself.”

“Psh. Stop.” You had said it sarcastically, but you didn’t intend for your heart to skip as harshly as it did when he had said so.

“You’ve got a pet then? Dog? Cat?”

“Cat. Just one.”

“I wish I could take care of a pet like that. Don’t think I would be too good at it though. I see myself as more of a plant person. They’re quiet, don’t do too much, and they sort of love you back in their own way.”

“How's that?”

“By growing. And flowering. Changing colors and looking good in your windowsill. Nothing too crazy.”

“I...guess I can see what you mean.”

He flicked at the black hoop pierced into his lip in the way that you certainly hadn’t forgotten; and you were one for forgetting much.

“Mind if I go in with you? I don’t have a whole lot going on.”

Jisung. You had also remembered his name. He carried Blaze with him in the way that he had that fiery glint in his eye like he knew he was getting away with something. He was brash and forward, and charming as all hell. The sunset of blood orange and cotton candy pink seemed to melt into his shoulders where he stood before you in the golden hour of the evening. A yellow carnation was tucked into the pocket of his jacket.

“You don’t have to...”

He had already made up his mind, and swung open the door to the pet shop neighboring the floral shop. You didn’t know how you had missed it.

The squawking of birds chimed with the bells hung over the shop door.

“You coming?” He held it open for you.

You sheepishly entered before him, nearly tripping on the little incline to the entrance and catching yourself three seconds before disaster.

Jisung prompted, “Lead the way.”

Normally you would have been concerned over the cleanliness of the store, but that seemed insignificant compared to the way that he looked around all in his Blaze-like wonder. He widened his eyes at the rows of fish tanks and twiddled with the little feather cat toys at the ends of the isles.

Granted, he seemed much more immersed in the kinds of aquatic plants and moss balls that they had rather than the cute bunnies and mice, but still, you couldn’t help but shy away when he caught your glances.

“Glad that I joined ya Blossom.”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

There was something about Minho that felt like a lullaby. He wore a lavender colored sweater when he arrived at your doorstep: of course it was pooling into paws at his hands as always. The collar dipped deep enough for you to see the tops of his collarbones, and they were gorgeous and curved. His eyes wrinkled a little under his wire framed glasses when he would smile: that of which would also look like the little grin of a bunny. Effortlessly his brown hair kissed his forehead.

He would speak softly and carefully, and listen to everything that you had said to him as if it was the most important thing in the world. His feet were too big for your spare pair of house slippers and he had a tiny hole in his khaki pants right by the waistline. Minho greeted Bomi with a tiny “aigoo” and she let him sweep her up into his arms where he bounced her lightly. She would never let you do that. Traitor.

“Your home is very...you.” He had complimented. You had no idea what that meant.

His lips were pink and glossy with drips of that peach soju that you had bought in the hopes that he would like it. It turned out that it was his favorite flavor.

You wanted so badly to kiss the peachy flavor off of those lips.

He had laughed a little at your array of cat-related home decor, laughing the most at your dish towels that had two fat cats on them that looked like chefs. He said that he had seen a movie once and the characters reminded him of that.

The two of you sat outside on your patio on the wire chairs that would imprint designs into the back of your legs. The air mixed with the smell of your citronella candle and the scent of the roasted duck that you had attempted to make for him. You really shouldn’t have tried to make something for the first time when it was also his first time coming over.

Maybe he was just being nice, but he had said it tasted good.

It did not taste good, but rather harshly of salt and too much rosemary.

Bomi rubbed at his legs under the table and even hiked herself up on two feet to peek into his lap. As much as it hurt to see your traitorous cat act this way, it was because of this that you knew he was someone that you could trust. Minho gave her head scratches and insisted to help you with the dishes--a mistake on his part. It took all of two minutes before you had a mishap with the detachable sink head, and soaked through his sweater.

“Maybe I just shouldn’t trust you with water then?” He chuckled while dabbing away at the fabric.

“That probably would be best.”

Minho was a lullaby in the way that he laid down next to you on that quilt you had made in a crafting class some years ago. All of the patches were disjointed the the color scheme made very little sense, but it was stull functional. He kept his hands folded to his chest with reverence. His chest rose and fell calmly, and his body heat floated over to you. His presence was something familiar and still something that you couldn’t place.

“Are you getting tired?” He asked you gently.

You lied, “No, just resting my eyes.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have had that much soju then.” He joked into the open air.

“How much longer?”

“At least thirty more minutes.”

He was so warm. Warmer than any chill of the spring night.

First you would have kissed the peachy flavor on his lips. Then you would have cuddled all up into that lavender sweater which you imagined to be even softer than cat’s fur--or rather--it looked like it could have been.

“Do you know any constellations?” Minho pointed up to the sky.

“Not really.”

“Well, that one is Ursa Major...and over there...that’s Leo. Can you see that it sort of looks like a triangle?”

“Yes.” You had said, but really you didn’t have a clue, you liked it more hearing him talk about them. “Where did you learn about constellations?”

“Long time ago. I think it was in school, but, that was so, so long ago.”

The cool grass under the quilt rustled when he had leaned back up to sit, then dragged quilt attempt #2 over your body and his.

“It was getting a little cold.” He quietly announced.

His simple action of doing just that heated up your whole body now knowing that the two of you were trapped together, inches apart.

Minho tucked his arms to prop up his head. “Thank you for cooking for me. I haven’t had someone other than my mother cook like that for me in a long while.”

“I’m sorry...I know that it was pretty inedible--”

“--And thank you for allowing me to come over too. I...realize...I don’t really know what I’m doing that well. I kind of invited myself...I hope that I’m not putting pressure on you or anything...”

“--Doing what well?” Your heart leapt into your throat.

“I just haven’t done this in a really long time.”

This.

What the hell was “this?”

“I’m not following...”

“Letting myself do something fun. Something nice and relaxing.”

You had formed a painful little “Oh.” on your lips. Your idea of this was different from his after all.

“--Something nice and relaxing with you.”

Another “Oh.” formed, but this one was a thankful one.

“Can I tell you something?” Minho’s voice was barely in a whisper.

“What is it?” You looked over at him and he was wrapped in the navy blue light of the night. You could have sworn that you could see the faintest inkling of stars in his eyes.

He looked back at you in earnest. “I’ve been...scared, too, since moving back out here.”

“W-why?”

“There was something in me that was telling me that moving out here wouldn’t fix everything, and that I would be stuck forever on those things that happened, and the things that made me unhappy.”

“Minho...what are you saying?”

“-Got my heart broken. Back then. As cliché as the sounds.” He laughed, and it even sounded a twinge embarrassed. “I ran away from it to here. I had figured that it would give me time to get it all back together again.”

“I-I’m so sorry.”

“Running is good and all when you can physically remove yourself from what’s chasing you, but some things...”

Your chest felt heavy. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

“You do?”

The first summer cicadas had started their nighttime chant, and their hisses ebbed and flowed like sea waves.

“I feel like...these expectations that my family has of me, my mother...I can’t ever escape them. They’re always there and burned into my head. I think of them even when I don’t want to: get a better job that “contributes”, get married, have grandkids...”

You paused with your own eyes cast up to the sky. The massive expanse seemed unfathomable.

“Why is it that we can’t ever be happy doing the things that are supposed to make us happy?”

The first meteor flew past your eyes with the speed of light, barely slow enough for you to catch it.

The second was a bit slower, and traced after it a millisecond of white spectral dust.

“Did you see that??” Without thinking, you poked once at Minho’s arm.

You couldn’t see, but he had grinned with a weak smile. “I did.”

All at once, the sky was illuminated with brilliant streaks of light and their white hot heads that would fade and dissapear just as quickly as they arrived. They tore through the sky with astonishing speed and you traced the outline of each line as fast as you could.

“There’s so many.” You wondered aloud.

Under the warmth of the haphazard blanket, fingers twisted into yours: careful and tentative, soft and curious.

Minho breathed out, “I feel pretty happy right now.”

124 notes · View notes

ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

breaking the rules

request from anon: Your writing is truly amazing!! I just read your fake dating with Georgie and I loved it!! I was wondering you would be up to writing a fake dating piece with Freddie?!☺️

word count: 6.9k sorry i keep getting carried away

A/N: ugh. my heart. i cannot deal. thank you all for being so kind, day after day, with each and every piece i write. and thank you, also, for being so patient. i know it’s taking me a while to sift through these requests. it means the world to me! love you all tons

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover | message me if you’d like to be added lovelies!

“Hey, Y/N! Would you mind, for the sake of the entire team, to not be so bloody brilliant during every single match? You’re making us look bad.”

You smile, clutching the quaffle to your chest as you zoom rapidly through the air, leaving dust in your wake as you fly past the Slytherin team members, leaving them baffled and confused before they can fully register just exactly what’s going on. You hoist the quaffle through the hoop and hear a loud roar from the Gryffindor section; you must be up by a hundred points by now. You see Malfoy near the goal posts on the opposite side, looking positively murderous.

You make your way around the interior of the pitch, only to reply to Fred Weasley as you pass by, “I can try, but—don’t you want to win?”

A hearty laugh escapes his lips, and he’s pummeling bludgers left and right with his twin by his side. He wonders now, watching you, if Gryffindor would be as good as they are without you on the team. You’re probably one of the most talented Chasers Gryffindor has seen in years, he reckons. He knew it the first time he saw you mount a broom in a flying lesson your first year at Hogwarts. Since then, inseparable you two had been.

There’s a light, airy feel to the match, which is, to Fred’s surprise, nothing at all what he had expected this morning, especially with Slytherin being the opponent. But you seem to be more in rhythm with the wavelengths of this match than ever before, to the point where Harry is actually taking his time to try and find the snitch—he’s making Malfoy sweat it out a bit.

But when a nasty bludger smacks the end of your broom and you’re knocked to the ground, landing painfully on your arm, Madam Hooch begins shouting out punishments at the Slytherin beaters, McGonagall is rushing to your side with Madam Pomfrey, and Fred, George, and Harry are nearly kicking Malfoy into the ground when his sickeningly irritating mock laughter floats in the air between them.

— -

“Merlin—is a side effect of drinking too much Skele-Gro that you end up a bottomless pit?” you ask nobody in particular as you continue to shovel eggs, toast, bacon and sausage into your mouth. Next to you, George laughs and pats you on the shoulder.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he tells you.

You peer over and smile—your bones in your arm are fully restored, but still in a sling; Madam Pomfrey had insisted. Across the table, Fred is looking rather sullen indeed.

“Brighten up, would you, Weasley?” you kick him playfully under the table and his stoic face breaks into a toothy smile. He’s feeling rather guilty, he is. Wasn’t able to stop the bludger in time. Neither was George. As if you’re reading his thoughts, you tell him, “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“Yeah,” he replies, stirring his spoon in his cup of tea. A bit too loudly, he continues, “Slimy Slytherin beaters—”

“Easy,” you say in a low voice, as the entirety of the Slytherin Quidditch team glances over at your table, and Fred’s gripping his fork tightly in his other hand. “Don’t need any more of us taken out of the next match, do we?”

Another safety measure of Madam Pomfrey’s. No Quidditch for a few weeks, at least. This means, of course, missing the next match: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. You’d tried to fight it, but when her mouth had formed into a thin line and she’d crossed her arms indignantly, you knew there was no changing her mind.

Why is it, Fred thinks to himself now, that Slytherins tend to get away with everything? The punishment of the two beaters was absolutely nothing like he’d expected—one detention each with Snape, who had basically grinned at the sight of your broken arm and shoulder. He’s so bloody tired of it, he wants to give them a taste of their own medicine. Perhaps, if he picks George’s brain, he can think of something—

His thoughts are interrupted when you kick him again under the table. “Hello—earth to Freddie?”

“Sorry,” he replies, biting into his toast, “what did you say?”

“I was saying—” you begin, and Fred notices his twin is now down a few seats talking with Ron and Ginny, leaving you two alone, “would you mind helping me pack up my bag after breakfast? It’s proving rather difficult with one arm since I have this sling across my other shoulder—”

Before you can finish, you both hear a group of Hufflepuffs from the table over discussing something animatedly. Fred catches bits and pieces of the conversation—he swears he hears ‘bludgers’ and ‘poor girl’ quite a few times. Before he knows it, they’re standing up and waltzing over to the Gryffindor table—more specifically, toward you.

“Oh bloody hell,” you mumble under your breath and look at Fred with wide eyes. You don’t need to say anything else for him to understand. Leading the pack of distraught looking Hufflepuffs is—Fred’s least favorite person in the entire world, and that’s including Malfoy—your ex boyfriend.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says awkwardly as he approaches the table at once before you and Fred are able to escape. He looks down at your shoulder and says in a tone Fred can’t decipher as sarcastic or genuine, “real sorry about your arm. Terrible thing those beaters did. Are you okay?”

With a slight eye roll from you and a laugh he tries very hard to suppress, Fred finds himself lost in his thoughts again. He’s transported almost immediately to the common room, to a very late Monday night after a very long detention with Professor McGonagall.

When he sprang through the portrait hole that evening, ready to divulge to you just exactly how he’d landed himself in detention the night you were both supposed to continue your weekly Monday traditions of exploding snap over small glasses of Butterbeer, he was a bit taken aback when he saw you crying in the corner, peering out of a window at the starry night sky. Immediately, his insides turned.

“Y/N?’ he asked when he finally reached you, nervous of how you were going to react to his very late arrival.

You sniffled a bit and wiped your tears away with your shirtsleeve. He felt surprised when you said softly, with no twinge of anger, “W-where’ve you been?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, sitting across from you on the window ledge. He let his bag fall to his feet with a dull thump. “McGonagall caught Georgie and me right after class—I was dragged to immediate detention without being able to come back to the common room to tell you—I could use a good butterbeer right now..” but his voice trailed off when he noticed that you weren’t really listening. Your eyes were letting tears escape with no effort, and he spotted your hands trembling against your knees. You weren’t upset about the game of exploding snap. His heart sank into his chest when he realized this was something deeper. “Hey,” he said, placing a hand over yours, “are you okay?”

“H-he,” you started, and Fred could tell that you were embarrassed. You couldn’t even look him in the eye. “It’s over. He broke up with me.”

“W..what?” Fred asked, his hands suddenly felt extremely cold. He squeezed your knee and waited.

“He said he.. sees me as a friend,” you told him, and Fred shook his head in utter shock, “he doesn’t.. feel anything a-anymore. I think..” you continued, your voice slightly higher than before, “I think there’s s-someone else.”

You threw your head into your hands and began wailing. Fred had never, ever, ever seen you cry before, but he didn’t like it. He wanted to do everything in his power to make it stop, make you smile, make you happy.

“What a complete git,” he told you before pulling you into his arms. You were nearly on his lap. You rested your head on his chest and let out painful sobs for a few minutes while he thought, in a panicked state, of words to say. You’d always been tough. Independent. Happy-go-lucky. So to see you in this emotional, co-dependent, messy state—he felt strange. Off balance. It made his heart hurt.

“Hey,” he said after a few minutes once your tears seemed to slow, “how about we make you some tea, get you into some comfortable pyjamas, and then we can talk through it—how does that sound?” When he noticed you were about to argue after pointing to the butterbeer and cards on the table even though he knew you didn’t really want to play, he continued, “Nah—not really in the mood to get my arse kicked by you tonight.”

You laughed through a hiccup and squeezed his hand tightly before pulling his arms around you again. “First, can you—can you just stay here with me?”

He felt you tense up beside him and he knew that you were trying your hardest to fight back more tears rising to the surface. He pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms tighter around you, enclosing you in the warmth from his own body.

“Okay then,” he replied and felt you relax beside him, “I can do that.”

“Maybe we can—we can talk it over.” Fred’s brought back to the present when he feels yet another light blow to his shin from you under the table. He blinks and looks into your eyes, which are wide, and he feels himself go weirdly alert.

“I don’t think so,” you say to your ex now, almost laughing a bit; he’s looking rather annoyed and stunned at being turned down. You swallow over a lump in your throat, “Besides, I’m—I’m seeing someone else, so, I think you’d better leave.”

“What?” he says breathlessly, almost looking heartbroken. Is he trying to mend his ways after watching you hit the ground with a loud splat! a few days ago? Fred’s insides turn. “Since when?”

“Since..a few weeks ago.” Fred can sense the panic in your voice as he watches your eyes shift from your ex to your breakfast plate and to him, a cherry red color flooding your cheeks and the tips of your ears. And without a second thought, you say, “Right, Fred?”

And Fred’s agreeing before he can fully digest your words, he’s nodding without breaking your gaze, he’s smirking at you without remembering there are other people around him. Finally, he looks up into the very baffled face of your ex boyfriend. “Yeah, we are—so—I’d bugger off if I were you, mate.”

“You two?” he asks, looking at Fred with what can only be described as pure anguish. “Together?”

“It’s time to go,” whispers another Hufflepuff, pulling the very distraught looking boy in front of you both back to their table before he can say anything else to you. Fred watches as he slumps in his seat and rubs his head, as if confused. Then, he turns back to you and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, Freddie, I’m sorry!” you shake your head rather quickly and bring a hand to your mouth in shock. “I panicked, I just—he kept trying to ask me to grab lunch with him, I didn’t know what to say to get him to leave me alone, ‘m so mortified. We can just—pretend it never happened, you don’t have to do anything, I can just deal with whatever it is he has planned, it’s fine—”

“Hey.. take a breath,” he laughs and teases you before reaching across the table and squeezing your hand. “It’s fine, I get it. Besides,” he takes a quick bite of an apple and smirks at you, “I’m honored you chose me to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Well, you’re the only one here, silly.”

He pauses to consider this, and then says, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and tell you again how honored I am.” You laugh at this, and he grins cheekily at you as he continues, “I mean, imagine if you’d done that to George, he would’ve stumbled over his words—you know how he gets under pressure sometimes—gets flabbergasted, he does. You’re lucky ‘m quick on my feet.”

“Well then,” you reply, sipping your tea as Fred watches your nerves subside, “glad to have you along for the ride, Weasley.”

— -

It’s difficult watching the team’s practice. Fred had told you to maybe stay in, not watch, he’d fill you in later on your replacement. You’d insisted on coming anyway. But he was right.

They’re not completely out of sync—the third year Chaser they snatched up is pretty good for never having really played before. But if Fred’s being completely honest, he misses you on the pitch more than anything else. It’s just not the same without you.

You enter the Great Hall for dinner, and you’re so annoyed at doing everything one-armed that you nearly rip the sling right off of your shoulder, even though Madam Pomfrey had insisted on wearing it for two more days. Okay, maybe you did it a little too fast. “Ow,” you say, rotating your shoulder back and forth to stretch the muscles, as if they’d been asleep for months and months. You furrow your brow in pain.

Fred snorts before sipping his pumpkin juice. “How’d that feel?”

“Not the greatest,” you admit, taking a seat next to him.

Just then, he slings an arm around your shoulder and places a light kiss to your forehead, taking you by surprise. You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. He places his cup gingerly on the table. “Git sighting, on your right.”

You stealthily look on the other end of the Great Hall, your ex trying his best to look distracted, but there’s no chance in hell he didn’t see this exchange between you and Fred. Solemnly, he follows his fellow Hufflepuffs from the hall.

You both hadn’t even noticed George, Ron, and Harry take their places beside you at the table, eyes wide and faces flushed.

“When the bloody hell did this happen?” Ron nods at the two of you, shoving pork into his mouth.

“I’d like to think if my two best friends got together, they would’ve at least mentioned it to me—how long have you two been sneaking around?” George teases you with a wink.

Both you and Fred let hearty laughs escape your lips, as if to say, Sneaking around? You’re out of your mind, but instead, you both say, “We’re just faking.”

“Come again?” Ron and Harry chorus together.

“Faking—you know, Ronniekins, pretend.” Ron’s ears turn a bright scarlet color. “Just for fun. Y/N’s lovely ex bombarded her the other day after her injury, kept bugging her to grab a bite with him, so she very politely took me by surprise and told him, before consulting me, that we’re dating. Of course I obliged—being the lovely gent I am.”

“It did not happen like that—”

“You’re absolute rubbish at lying, you know.”

You throw your hands up in surrender, your face a nice light shade of rosy pink. “I panicked!”

“Precisely,” Fred and George say together. “And how long are you two planning on keeping this little scheme going for?” George asks.

You and Fred turn to each other. It is now revealed, Fred realizes as he watches as you peer into space, that you have no plan. He leans back in his seat, looking rather satisfied at the fact that you haven’t come up with any details at all. “I—I hadn’t thought of that. I just kind of.. went for it. I was acting on the very daring nerve that comes with being a Gryffindor!”

“Right you were,” says Fred through a mouthful of potatoes, “barely skipped a beat, she did. Reckon she couldn’t wait for it to happen—she nearly pounced on me right in front of him.”

The boys roar with raucous laughter. You roll your eyes and turn your attention to George, Ron, and Harry, who are now wiping away tears from their eyes. “You don’t really believe him, do you? This will not last long. Believe you me. It was purely a spur-of-the-moment adrenaline rush decision.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

You turn back to Fred and ask in a sweetly sarcastic tone, “Yes, Freddie?”

“I’m invoking a rule. No falling in love with one another.” He winks and bites into his chicken.

You scoff at him, while the others chuckle again. “Ah yes, darling—because that’s so very likely.”

— -

When Fred finds you sitting underneath a large oak tree in front of the castle, he laughs softly when he sees you in quite a frazzled looking state: your hair is in disarray from pulling at it, the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven’t slept in days, and he can almost feel the pain radiating from your tired muscles.

He sits down next to you in the grass and teases, “You’re quite a sight for sore eyes.”

“Oh, shove off,” you reply, not even looking up from your books. But after a few seconds of silence, the two of you fall into fits of laughter.

Fred nods at the books you’re so very immersed in. “What’s so important?”

“D’you think,” you begin, flipping the pages rapidly, “if I can find a spell that can produce a change in thought process on another human being, and somehow manage to stealthily pull it off and use it on Madam Pomfrey, she’ll change her mind and let me play in the next match?”

Fred cocks his head to the side, peering admirably at you, and smiles sweetly. “It doesn’t look very likely.”

“Ugh, I thought you’d say that.”

“But hey—there’s always obliviate,”

“Honestly, it’s getting to the point where I’m actually considering it.”

“Sure,” he says teasingly again, “I’d pay quite a lot of galleons to see you use any type of magic on a staff member, let alone something as dangerous as a memory charm.”

You cross your arms defiantly. “Don’t think I’ll do it?”

“No,” he smirks, “I know you won’t do it.”

You narrow your eyes at him and give in. Fred can’t help but laugh. “Okay, well—it would be really dangerous! But c’mon—I’ve gotten involved in a fair share of mischief with you and your brother; need I remind you of the time you landed me in detention my second year? A mere twelve year old, in detention…”

“Reckon that’s when you put this whole fake boyfriend thing into action, did you? When you fell for me all those years ago?”

“Ha-ha, you’re wickedly hilarious, Freddie.. seriously, funniest bloke I’ve ever met..” Your voice trails off when you notice something a few feet away, but Fred’s still thinking about how you called him the funniest person you know, even if it was in a sarcastic tone. But deep down, he knows you’re completely serious. He can feel his heart begin to soar a bit. His meandering mind is interrupted yet again by someone walking along the water’s edge—an unwanted visitor. Quickly, you shift yourself closer to Fred and say in a hushed voice, “Hurry—put your arm around me!”

He can’t help but stifle a laugh at your extremely flustered state. “Anything for my girl.”

You fit in so comfortably in his body that he doesn’t even notice how much time passes by. You spend the afternoon immersed in books, while Fred is resting against the tree, falling in and out of sleep with breaks to fix some malfunctions on some very small inventions of his and George’s. Each and every time he looks up, he notices the very curious looking ex boyfriend of yours watching you both, as if he’s trying his very hardest to prove that the two of you are just pretending. And each and every time Fred turns his attention back toward his inventions, he finds himself pulling you tighter and tighter into his arms.

— -

You and Fred are walking rather reluctantly through the corridors to your next class. If only you both had a free period, you’d be able to catch up on some work. But alas, here you both are, walking very, very slowly to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“How’s the team holding up? I’m dying to get back out there with you.”

“Miss me that much, do you?”

You narrow your eyes and the unmistakable sound of mock laughter from Fred bounces off of the walls. “I miss Quidditch is what I mean. It’s killing me that I can’t join you lot—especially with the match just a week away.”

Fred smiles softly at you, feeling a twinge in his heart, knowing that you won’t be able to play, regardless of your completely healed shoulder. “I know. It’s killing us, too. But come the new year, you’ll—oi, bloody hell, does he just spend his time following us around, or something?”

Fred nods in the direction of the unwanted visitor yet again, and he grabs your hand quickly and continues to walk down the corridor, careful to avoid eye contact. That is, until he corners you both.

It’s not in a violent sort of way—but rather, curious. You’re both bracing yourselves for yet another attempt at getting you to rekindle things, when he takes Fred by surprise. “Why is it, Weasley, that whenever I see you two around, you very quickly grab her hand or sling your arm around her shoulder? What is this—just a ploy?”

“Come on,” you say to him softly, and Fred’s feeling very, very nervous that your facial expression will tell your ex everything he needs to know. “Leave us alone, would you? We’ve got class.”

“Prove it to me, then,” he says now, crossing his arms. “If you two’re really together, then kiss her.”

“What?” you both say aloud, flabbergasted. You look at Fred, who’s doing his very best to bite back a smile, and it’s becoming difficult to not laugh in your ex’s face.

He smirks at the both of you, his cronies surrounding him doing the same thing. Fred squares him up, and it’s easy to tower over him, Fred’s 6’3 frame swallowing him nearly whole. “I don’t think that’s such an odd request—kiss your girlfriend, Weasley, and I’ll leave you be.”

It’s obvious to the both of you, now, that he is basically waiting for you all to admit that yes, you’ve been faking, the entire time it hasn’t been real. You open your mouth to speak and Fred notices the panic in your eyes, the truth bubbling up inside you. So he does the only thing he can think of—he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulls you close to him, and presses his lips to yours.

You try very, very hard to hold back your surprise, because you’re extremely aware of the group of Hufflepuffs now watching you both share a kiss that is supposed to look like it happens all the time. You’re sure you’ve lost your voice now. His lips are soft, softer than they look, and Fred’s finding it difficult to remember why you two haven’t been doing this the entire time. He pulls away very, very slowly, hovering close to you with a cheeky grin on his face, before breaking completely and taking your hand in his again, squeezing tightly. Fred notices the scarlet color of your face now, turns back toward the stunned man in front of him, and replies, “Is that all? My girlfriend and I have class, if you don’t mind—”

You swiftly walk your way through the group and you and Fred nearly fly down the hallway, his face as red as his hair, his smile as bright as the sun, and you bring your hands to your lips and you swear you can feel the electricity surging through them, just as they had when Fred kissed you just a few seconds ago.

“You were going to tell him!” Fred’s laughing now, outside the entrance to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but he can feel his heart thundering in his chest due to the heat of the moment. There’s nothing quite like an adrenaline rush. You reply, “He—he knows we’re lying!”

“Well, now he doesn’t,” Fred replies with a cheeky wink. “C’mon—I made you a deal, didn’t I? Couldn’t let that git get the last word. Now he’s got no bloody idea what’s going on.”

“How can I ever thank you?”

Fred swallows over a lump in his throat, peering deeply into your very bright eyes. He knows what he wants to say, and he’s about too, but something stops him. Something holds him back. Instead, he grins, shakes his head, and slings an arm across your shoulder, making sure to hold onto you just a little bit longer this time.

— -

Fred, George, Ron, and Harry are sitting in the library looking positively ghastly. Ron and Harry are very reluctantly working on a Divination essay that Hermione had finished a week ago, while the twins are racking their brains to finish this petty assignment from Snape.

You wander inside and Fred notices, for the first time in a few days, that your sling is back on your shoulder. Concern floods through his body. “Hey,” he says, immediately pulling you into his arms, “are you okay? Is it bothering you?”

You’re positively beaming—that’s the only way Fred can describe is. Your smile is quite bright, looking happier than you have in months, even with your arm in a sling. “Yeah,” you tell him sweetly, taking a seat next to him, “hurts a little. Probably just slept on it funny, or something.”

“Be careful,” he tells you, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, completely ignoring the assignment in front of him, “let me know if you need to go to the hospital wing, okay?”

You nod and begin to slowly pull spell books from your bag when you notice the others across the table, looking at you both with what can only be described as mischievous grins.

You and Fred look at each other, and then at them. Fred’s hand tightens around your waist. “What?” you ask together.

“You know he isn’t here, right?” Harry asks you both. George and Ron are focusing very hard on their parchments, and are not doing a very good job at stifling their laughter.

It’s almost immediate that Fred unwraps his arm from your waist, and your face is burning with color, and Fred’s insides are beginning to tighten due to embarrassment. But before he can speak and defend his actions, you speak up, “Oh, erm—could’ve sworn I saw him—must’ve been my eyes playing tricks on me, then. Anyway..”

The rest of the afternoon is spent in utter silence, recovering from that tiny slip up and moment of embarrassment. And one by one they leave—first Harry, then Ron, and then George—who, by the looks of it, is nowhere near done with his assignment—but he claims he has somewhere he needs to be, and vanishes through the doors of the library before either you or Fred can do anything.

About an hour later, you ask Fred, “Could Snape be any more vile? Why did he assign this stupid essay again?”

Fred laughs softly, “because some Ravenclaw started insulting his teaching methods in the middle of the lesson—remember?”

“Oh yeah,” you say, the memory coming back to you now. Brightly, you say, “Hey—want to get back at that Ravenclaw and plan some elaborate type of prank to make this whole assignment just a little bit more bearable?”

Fred turns toward you with a surprised expression on his face. He smirks and shakes his head in admiration, “I think I’m becoming a bad influence on you.”

You bat your eyelashes at him and say, “Maybe. Would that be such an awful thing?”

And then he pulls you nearly all the way into his lap, begins tickling you and poking you in the ribs, and you begin to flail in his arms and laugh hysterically, when Madam Pince angrily shushes you from the other end of the library. You flip your hair out of your eyes and regain your composure, and Fred is suddenly very aware that you’re still seated in his lap, your face only inches from his, the bright color of your eyes sparkling in the sun flooding in from the windows. Right. You’re not actually technically together. He swallows thickly and watches as you bite down on your lip. You’re both about to say something, hearts thundering loudly in your chest, when suddenly you break the silence and slide yourself off of him, back into your seat and say, “We’d better head to the feast, Freddie. Don’t want to be late.”

— -

“Anyone fancy a game of exploding snap before bed?”

Ron’s sitting in the middle of the huddle, finishing the last of his dessert from the feast, while everyone around him is slumped in their seats looking positively exhausted.

George says sleepily, “Can’t mate—we’ve got a late night practice tonight.”

“D’you think Angelina will give me a beating if I just sleep through it?” Fred asks nobody in particular, his eyes closed.

“Yes,” you, Harry, George, Ginny and Hermione say together.

“Oh fine, you lot are out,” Ron waves his hand in the direction of the Quidditch players and then glances excitedly at you, Ginny, and Hermione. “Ladies? Anyone? Feeling kind of lucky this evening.”

Ginny snorts at this. “You? Lucky? Luck would be me not absolutely obliterating you in a game—not you winning. That’d be a miracle.” Her older brothers chuckle quite animatedly at this comment; it’s certainly woken them up a bit.

You grin at Ginny and then say to her very angry and embarrassed looking brother, “What she means to say, Ron, is that we’re all kind of exhausted due to lack of sleep, because someone—” you shoot a glance toward another Gryffindor girl on the other end of the Great Hall, “—put an amplifying charm on some Muggle contraption of hers last night, music kept us up till nearly dawn.”

Ron turns back toward his brothers now, looking confused. “No way you could’ve heard that from the girls dormitory, or Harry and I would’ve been up all night, too! So why are you two so bloody exhausted?”

“Usual mischief,” Fred and George chorus together, winking at the youngest male Weasley.

Ginny picks up her bag and says to the group, “I’m heading to bed. You two coming?” she glances at you and Hermione.

You glance back and forth between Ginny and Fred and bite your lip. You’re absolutely knackered, but you wonder whether you should go to practice, just to be there, just to watch, just to show you’re still devoted. Fred picks up on this and shakes his head. “You’re tired—go to bed. Promise you’re not missing much. Reckon we’ll all be rubbish due to exhaustion, anyway.”

“Okay,” you finally reply, albeit begrudgingly. Fred places a quick kiss to your cheek, the group stifles laughter, and you, Hermione, and an extremely baffled Ginny make your way upstairs to the common room, leaving the boys to their jokes in the very crowded Great Hall.

When you enter through the portrait hole, Hermione wishes you both a good evening before heading up the stairs. This leaves you and Ginny alone in a completely desolate common room. You remove your shoes and stand across from the fire, letting the warmth of the flames radiate through your body, when Ginny clears her throat.

“Care to tell me what’s going on between you and my older brother?” she says cheekily, grinning at you. She so very much resembles all of her siblings.

You laugh softly, running a hand through your hair and stretching your arms behind your head. “I thought Ron would’ve told you.. It’s nothing, Ginny. Promise. We’re just pretending. My ex has been strangely remorseful about the breakup lately, trying to get me to talk to him and what not—Fred’s just helping me out a bit.”

“By pretending to date you?”

“Yeah..” you say a bit guiltily now. “Yeah, it sort of happened in a moment of panic. Don’t worry, though. None of it’s real. Just till it gets the other one out of my way—then we’ll go back to normal.” You turn back to face the fire and it suddenly feels much, much hotter than before.

“But this is the normal you actually want, isn’t it?”

This takes you by surprise. You turn back slowly, now facing Ginny, and she’s wearing a genuine grin. “I—I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve watched Fred and George for years,” Ginny tells you, “admiring their recklessness and rebellion—but in turn, this also means I see who they get on with.”

“Meaning?”

She smiles softly, looking a little sulky actually, which is so very unlike Ginny. And she confides in you, and she’s acting very vulnerable which makes your heart soar, “I’d give anything for Harry to look at me the way you look at Fred.”

You swallow over a lump in your throat, and Ginny can easily sense your nervousness. She reaches out and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. In a very hoarse, soft voice, as if your vocal chords have been strained, you plead, “Please, please don’t tell him.”

She doesn’t respond to this exactly, but you know she’ll keep her lips sealed. She asks, “How long?”

“I—I dunno,” you tell her truthfully. You bite your lip to keep your heart jumping out of your throat, “over time, I suppose.” You continue to tell her of how everything unfolded, how Fred had jokingly told you to not develop feelings for him, how he’d kissed you that one day in the corridor.

There’s a few moments of silence between you both, but there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. In fact, it’s the most comfortable you’ve ever been with one another—secretly longing for the boys who don’t seem to look at you both the way you so deeply yearn. Finally, Ginny breaks the tension and says, “Your secret is safe with me. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Is this her way of telling you that Fred doesn’t feel the same way as you? That these feelings you have for him are a hundred percent one sided and are not at all reciprocated? It’s as if she’s reading your thoughts, because she tells you, “I’ve no idea how he feels—he doesn’t tell me anything at all, real git that he is,” you both laugh at this exchange, and Ginny echoes herself, “Just be careful.”

“I will,” you reply, now realizing that she’s has given you quite a lot to think about, “Thanks, Gin.”

— -

Fred’s feeling positively blue, if you will. He’s standing smack in the middle of the corridor in his Quidditch robes after a truly rubbish weekend practice, staring at the spot you were just standing. It’s like you’re still there, he can still smell your perfume, but he reckons you’ve probably already made it back to the common room by now.

Just then, he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in surprise, and turns around only to be face to face with George and Ginny, who laugh at his skittishness.

“You alright, mate? Coming to the Great Hall?”

“Yeah.” Fred’s voice sounds vastly different in his own ears; it’s hoarse and broken, and he doesn’t understand why. He coughs a bit, and then echoes himself, “Yeah,” except he doesn’t believe it, and neither do his siblings.

George stops bouncing his broomstick between his hands at once. He looks once at Ginny and then back at Fred as the corridor begins to fill with students, “What’s going on?”

“Sh-she ended it,” he replies, and the words feel foreign in his mouth.

“Who, Y/N? The.. fake thing?” George asks, lowering his voice. “Maybe the git is finally leaving her be.”

“No, that’s not it. She wouldn’t tell me. She was.. weirdly quiet. She told me that she was worried things are going to get messy and she’s afraid rules are being broken on her end.. has she said anything to either of you? What is she even talking about?”

George responds quickly with a, “No, nothing,” whereas Ginny hesitates a bit, and then responds, “No, Freddie. She hasn’t.” But Fred can sense that his little sister isn’t giving him all of the info. Had she talked to you? Does she know what’s going on? Then George nudges his brother and asks a bit cheekily, “Does this make you upset?”

“No, no, of course not!” Fred says a bit aggressively, but both of his siblings just cock their heads to the side, as if to say, Really, Freddie, we can see right through you. “I—I mean—I just.. thought we were having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah,” George begins, while Ginny remains quiet by his side, “okay, you were having fun, but.. what I’m asking you, Fred, is—do you maybe want to be with her for real? And that’s why you’re upset?”

When Fred doesn’t answer, Ginny finds her voice. “We know, Fred.”

“Know what?”

George and Ginny say together, “That you fancy her.”

Fred runs a hand through his hair. He’s feeling aggravated now—he doesn’t like when his mind and thoughts get picked apart by people closest to him, especially when he’s trying on his own to piece together exactly how he feels. But he comes to realize, as his heart begins to beat faster when he thinks of you, that his siblings are right. He’s felt this way for a very, very long time.

Without showing just how much he really feels for you, Fred tells them, “Yeah, erm, okay, I—maybe I have some.. feelings,” he says through gritted teeth and George can’t help but stifle a laugh at his twin’s nervousness. Fred punches him in the arm. “But she kept saying that she’s breaking rules—but what rules? I haven’t the foggiest what she’s on about! I don’t even know if she feels the same way!”

“Fred,” Ginny says quietly, “you jokingly made one rule with her when you two began this whole ridiculous stunt.” When Fred just looks at his sister quizzically, wondering what the bloody hell she’s on about, she opts to continue, “you told her you’re not allowed to fall for one another.”

Realization hits Fred like a ton of bricks, George throws his hands up in confusion, and Ginny pushes on Fred’s chest and grins cheekily at her older brother, leaving poor George baffled beyond belief at this secret language his other two siblings seem to have. Ginny nods in the direction of the common room, “Just go get her already, would you?”

And Fred’s flying through the corridors and up the stairs, he’s pushing past students and professors alike, he’s running hands through his messy, windswept hair and he’s climbing through the portrait hole, only to find you sitting on the ledge near the window looking out at the stars, just as you had all those long months ago when he found you crying.

“Hey, Freddie,” you say when you turn to face him. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer—he pushes past the desks and chairs blocking him from you and does the one and only thing he wants to do, the only thing he’s ever wanted to do for as long as he can remember now—he scoops you up into his arms, presses his forehead to yours, and kisses you. For real, this time.

Your surprise is overridden by the slight, exasperated moan that escapes your lips before you wrap your hands around the back of his neck. His fingers are dancing across your hip bones and then make their way up your back and into your hair. He kisses you once, twice, three more times before fully breaking, and hovers close to you again before pulling away completely to see the sparkle in your eyes, the bright smile plastered across your face.

As you push down any nervousness rising to the surface with a quick swallow, you say, “So.. where’ve you been?”

Fred laughs haughtily now, remembering that time all those few months ago when you’d said the exact same thing in a completely different context. He’s finding it beyond difficult to not kiss you into oblivion right now, especially as you bite on your bottom lip to try and suppress a very large grin.

“Sorry, love, I got tied up with my thoughts—but I can stay here with you now.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace before his lips find yours again. You can both hear voices outside the portrait whole. It’s obvious to you now that you have mere seconds before your alone time will be so very rudely interrupted by fellow Gryffindors.

“I broke the rules,” you tell him with slight tears in your eyes, playing with the baby fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Me too,” he admits breathlessly, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I broke them a long time ago.” His heart begins to thunder inside of his chest at the feeling of your lips forming a smile against his, and he’s almost positive you can hear it—but he doesn’t care. He wants you to know you get his heart racing—more than pranking, more than firewhisky, more than Quidditch—more than anything or anyone in the entire world. He continues after another small kiss, “I reckon some rules are meant to be broken, though, aren’t they?”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, darlings. thank you for reading and requesting, much love x

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #hp imagine #fake dating tropes #ron weasley #ginny weasley #harry potter #hermione granger

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dreamingabouttaron · 3 years

Text

History Repeating - Part 3

Trigger Warning - Mentions of Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy and Vomit.

It took a couple of weeks for the tension in the Egerton household to cool down. Little sparks to arguments would abrupt out of nowhere due to the added stress that had been piled onto the family. Everyone tried to pretend everything was normal. You tried the hardest. Distracting yourself with school, homework, spending time with friends— you really tried. You had too. Even half-assing your attempt at normalcy would be enough to stop your emotions from crushing you. You felt like you were on a constant battle with your anxiety, which wasn’t helping your nausea.

You slowly walked down the stairs to find Taron sprawled out on the sofa. He was absentmindedly staring at the background on his phone, which you knew was an old throwback photo of the three of you, it was one he hadn’t changed for years. The picture always made him smile. As you stood silently watching, you felt your stomach lurch and bile rise up into your throat. Holding a hand firmly to your mouth, you stumbled your way back up the stairs, and hurry to the nearest toilet. Even though the distance between the stairs and the bathroom wasn’t very long, you barely made it to the toilet before you start vomiting. And it was probably the most intense vomiting session you’d ever had.

It only took a few minutes before you felt your dads calming presence by your side. He quickly grabbed your hair and hushed gentle words of support in your ear. Just like he had every single time you got sick. Just like he had with Lily. He ran his hand smoothly across your back making you instantly feel better. Once you finally finished, and were no longer dry heaving, you leant back on your knees. You try to catch your breath, brushing some tiny strands of hair from your sweaty face.

“Better?” Taron asked as you finally opened your eyes. You slowly nod your hair, not wanting to make any rapid movements incase they brought on another round of vomiting. Your dad had been there every step of the way, just like he had promised you. “Here, drink this.” He said as he pressed a cold glass to your lips. You took small sips of the water, washing the taste from your mouth. “Let me go and make you a green tea, you can sip on it in the car on the way to your appointment.”

You were thankful he was going to be there with you at your first appointment that afternoon. You didn’t think you could manage it on your own. While you were excited to go, you also felt nervous. What if something goes wrong? You can’t help but wonder — worry — that something will go horribly wrong and you’re not ready to deal with that. Certainly not on your own.

When you arrived for your appointment, you went over and signed in before relaxing into the waiting room with your dad. You looked around at all the other expectant parents. You could feel Taron stiffen as he looked around too. He was nervous for you. He wasn’t ready to become a grandparent in his late 30’s. Hell he thought his wife was pregnant not his daughter. But if he hadn’t got Lily pregnant so early, he wouldn’t be in this situation. Yet, he wouldn’t change it for the world. You were his world.

Fifteen minutes later your name was called and you both followed a tall thin lady into a room. You sat on the edge of the bed as you swung your feet back and forth looking at all the posters on the walls that talked about pregnancy, cervical dilation, and menstrual cycles. A few moments later; gentle knock on the door makes you flinch, your eyes snapping to the door as you watched it open. An older woman, with grey dark hair and a kind face, comes in and looks at you and Taron.

“Hi,” she says. “Grace?” You nod, she gives a warm smile, closes the door and sits across from you. “Hello, I’m Mary, I will be your ultrasound technician today. And this is…” She slowed her speech down as she looked to Taron with thin eyes.

“Hello, I’m her dad. I’m here for moral support.” He said as he replied with a short sharp smile.

“Wonderful.” She replied before turning back to you. She explained everything that was going to happen. It had been worked out that you were about 9-10 weeks pregnant. You sat and listened, trying to take in everything that she was saying. She instructs you to lie back against the bed. You lift your shirt up and flinch from the cold gel as it makes contact with your skin. You gulp with anxiety. Your eyes dart across the white clinical ceiling. Taron got up from his chair and went to the side of the bed, grabbing hold of his daughters hand before raising to place a gentle kiss on the back of it.

You both sat in silence watching every move the technician made on your flat stomach. It took you a moment to realise that you were holding your breath. You closed your eyes and tried to relax into the moment the best you could. You kept them closed until you heard your dad release a little audible gasp. You opened your eyes and looked at the tiny form on the screen.

“That’s it right?” You questioned with a slight shake in your voice.

“Yep, that’s your baby.” She replied with a smile on her face. As you stared at the screen, it filled you with such joy, you couldn’t even begin to put it into words.

“Can we hear the heartbeat?” Taron asked, as he squeezed your hand.

“Sure. Let me just…” Mary pushed a button and within seconds the sounds of the baby’s heart beating echo around the room. “That sounds like a very strong heartbeat to me.”

“Wow.” Was all you could say. You felt tears forming in your eyes. You had made that. That was your baby. Yours.

“It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Taron asked whilst rubbing the top of your hand. “I remember when I heard your heartbeat for the first time.”

“Tan, are you okay?” Lily whispered turning to Taron who was loudly tapping his foot on the squeaky floor.

“Oh, um, yeah, everything's fine. All good. Are you okay?”

The second those words escaped his lips, he couldn't help but feel guilty. He wasn’t even sure why. It's not like he was lying. But he was feeling nervous. Really nervous. But that was normal right? Because according to the books he'd been reading, first time parents - or any parents actually - felt nervous for this. To be fair, it was more like a 'good' nervous; where he's happy and eager, but still getting butterflies in his stomach.

But the bottom line was that he's happy and excited. And why wouldn't he be? It's the first time he was going to see his baby, and he has been looking forward to this day ever since learning about Lily’s pregnancy. It's still weird to him - they're having a baby. A baby! A tiny little version of them.

Thats when it hit them - the sound they've been waiting to hear. Taron and Lily both had that classic excited-but-nervous expression on their faces. There's one moment when they try to laugh, but then they immediately go back to being serious. They just listen to the pattern - dum-dum-dum-dum-dum…

“I-Is that…?” Taron started. His face must have been a picture.

“That’s your baby's heartbeat,” the doctor answered with a smile, already anticipating the question. “And that, right there, is your baby.”

They both turned their attention to the monitor in front of them, the doctor pointing at a particular spot. To put it simply, there's a little blob that seems to be moving infrequently and producing the sound that is reverberating off the walls in the room. But that blob and that sound was Lily and Taron's world. That was the product of their love for each other. The start of their life together.

“That's the baby?” Lily says gently. It wasn't intended as a question, but that's way it came out because she can't believe it either. There's a baby!

“That's right. And so far everything looks good and healthy... I'll give you two some time alone.” They silently thanked the doctor as she left them alone, with the image of their baby still on the screen. The parents still in awe. They didn’t blink once. Not wanting the image to suddenly disappear. They'd read books on pregnancy, and they'd watched shows with a pregnancy plot line, and they'd been told by their own mothers how it feels. But none of those were able to compete with this feeling that they had. The warmth, the love. Lily was barely able to hold it all together, letting the happy tears stream down her cheeks the moment the couple are alone. “That’s our baby T,' Lily whispered while trying to compose herself.

But Taron didn’t respond. He was transfixed on the monitor. Not showing any emotion either, which wasn't like him. “That’s our baby…” He murmured in disbelief.

You and Taron got to see and hear the baby for a few more minutes as the technician took photographs for you to keep. A few moments later the technician turned off the machine and handed you a paper towel to wipe the gel off your stomach. “Everything looks good.” She hands you a line of ultrasound pictures, and you feel a whirlwind of emotions inside you. Taron smiles at you as get sit back up on the bed, “You’ll have another appointment in a few weeks time, in the meantime I want you to start taking these prenatal vitamins, these with help with the development of the baby as well as your health during the pregnancy.”

“Okay. Thank you.” You say as you jump off the bed and collect your belongings.

“No problem. I’ll see you guys soon. Have a good rest of the day.” She guides you out of the room. You thank her and leave the room with the Ultrasound pictures in your trembling hands.

You and your dad walk silently back to the car. You climb into the passenger side, still staring down at the pictures of your little blob. You felt like you were having an out of body experience. You couldn’t believe it. Taron turned the engine of the car on and turned to look at you before driving off. He leant over and placed a little kiss on the top of your head.

“Come on. Let’s go and show your mum.” You looked over at him and smiled. You couldn’t have done this without him.

Tag list -

@writingformany

#taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton #taron x reader #i love taron #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton fanfic #Angst #Fanfiction #taron egerton fluff #fluff #Pregnant #teen pregnancy #ultrasound

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theshy1sout · 3 years

Text

Inseparable - Chapter 9

Tags: Broppy, Slow Burn Fluff, Not Rated, Trolls Mythology AU

Ao3 here

Notes: So... What can I write about it? I wrote it when I was really tired and I was doing a few things at the same time so I barely knew what I was writing... I'm gonna edit it later, like the last one XD If you find something weird, just tell me. This fanfic suppose to be just a pleasant writing exercise, the plot isn't too deep, it's pretty simple. It's the fluff. Quickly written fluff in Trolls Mythology AU. Guh, never mind, I'm so tired, enjoy the new chapter

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- Before you give me the Staff - Branch says, showing Poppy a bandanna in his hand. - Can you put it on your eyes?

- You want me to blindfold and not ask why?

- Exactly.

- Is that the thing why...

- Yes. I'm sorry.

It is a whole week after the Fest. And it was a really weird week for Poppy. The very next Day she and Branch were walking together and talking about the Fest, the Sharing, Immortals they met, talks they had, the food they ate. Basically about everything. It was one of the best of the best days for Poppy, maybe even better than the Fest. It was just she and him, the Gold Sphere shining warmly, birds singing softly, breeze blowing gently. Just them, talking for hours. As the almost the most talkative creature below the Sky, Poppy was drunk with talk, exhausted with excitement, all smiles with Branch on her side.

And the very same Night, they fought.

It started so simple, with the god asking the goddess for going to rest during the night time and her being stubborn to walk with him instead. Neither wanted to yield, so calm discussion slowly turned into a loud fight. Their yells quickly caught the interest of the nearest Immortals, who surrounded them and before Poppy and Branch realized it, Smidge, the goddess of Honesty, was trying to calm them down. She listened to them both separately and gave Branch the right to Poppy's anger. But she kinda didn't have a choice now, so many Immortals were begging her to go to sleep (and let them sleep, by the way).

Well, after that the goddess of the Day was walking a bit bitter and twisted. She took offense especially at the god of the Night. He forced her to sleep every Night. What a jerk! How did he dare to tell her what to do? And how did the others take his side? Maybe it was a bit childish that she didn't want to talk with him for the whole next day, but still. She felt frustrated every time Branch was checking if she slept. Guh.

But now, staring at the bandanna in his hand, the very typical bandana that friend blindfolds friend to show a surprise, Poppy smiles widely and chuckles, reminding that ridiculous week.

- You would just tell me it was for the surprise!

- Then it wouldn't be a surprise - Branch points out. - I preferred to force you to sleep.

- Please, never do that again - She twists her face. - That was horrible.

The god of the Night collapses a very genuine giggle.

- Sleeping is that bad for you? - He chuckles.

- Yes! - Poppy throws up her hands and the Staff she grabs. - It is so boring! It's nothing, doing totally nothing in the complete silence and darkness in front of the eyes! It's like torture. Torture! I'm not exaggerating. It is torture. Just existing in one place without doing anything productive.

- Charging energy?

- But it's the worst way to do that! Guh, there has to be another way to rest without sleeping...

- Well, I'm sure we'll figure it out one day. Or others will. But now... - Branch lifts a bandanna in his hand a bit higher. - Could you?

- Oh, yes - She gets ruffled a bit. - Sure.

She grabs the bandanna and stops, staring at it.

- Umm... I don't know how to wear it with the Staff in my hand...

- I can take it - Branch says and almost touches it. - Wait. No. I can't. The Night will come and you will see the thing...

- I already know that there is a surprise, so why not?

- No! No, cause this isn't a good place to see it and I have to start the Night right now - Branch frowns, thinking. He hesitates a bit before he asks, with his cheeks turn slightly purple:

- Umm... Can I tie it for you?

Poppy smiles at him and gives him back the bandanna.

- Of course - She has no idea why her face gets a bit warmer.

Branch stands behind her and the white bandanna covers her eyes. Now without seeing, Poppy can feel gentle fingers in her hair so clearly. He's tieing, his touch is accidental, random, not on purpose, but... why does she kinda like it...

When he has finished, she hears a few steps, and the complete Silence falls. She feels the Staff of the Light is taking from her hand. But all she hears in their calm breaths and a grasshoppers' creak far away.

And then she feels two cold fingers putting the edge of the bandanna on her nose.

- Hey! - She chuckles, putting it off. The god's giggle sounds so clear and warm. She wishes she can see his smile, his wide calm gentle smile, but well, the bandanna. The surprise. And as if he reads her mind, the cold touch on her shoulder surprises her.

- Let's go then - She hears his voice. - It will be a quite long walk.

- Why couldn't we just go there during the Day?

- We did. It's not so far, just a 5 minutes walk.

- But how do I suppose to walk and not fall over something?

- Keep calm - She feels a light squeeze on her shoulder. - I will guide you.

- Like that? - She still disbelieves.

- Umm...

She stands quietly for a while before she hears his answer.

- Okay, you're right... - And with those words, he takes his hand off her shoulder. And after a minute he adds: - Can I? Oh, wait, you can't see what I point at...

She chuckles. And then she hears shyly ask:

- Can I take your arm?

- Sure! - She beams, trying to smile at him, but she isn't sure where he is until she feels another cold touch. This time on the arm. Maybe she should wait and let him just grab her, but instead of that she blindly finds his arm and holds it with both of her hands. It is cold, so cold. She feels a light shiver on her back. But now she is stable, not fearing a fall. Now she's safe. It is so weird to feel like that right now. She's blindfolded, harmless, completely dependent on Branch's will. And she feels safe.

- Come with me - He whispers and starts walking carefully.

It is a really nice walk. Sounds rounds are soft and pleasant like the nightly sounds are since Branch has created them. The grass under Poppy's feet is cold and a bit wet. And the god's arm is cold, but... It gets warmer under her touch. As if his skin absorbs her warmth. She wonders if he likes it or not. Is he always cold? Has he ever felt something warm? Is her touch sore for him? Or maybe... Or maybe he enjoys it as much as she does...

After a few minutes, his arm is as warm as her. She smiles. Her thumb slides gently about over his skin, making a little thrill. Her heart gets warmer for no reason. Poppy feels now like she doesn't need this surprise... She would like to walk like that a bit longer, maybe the whole Night?

But they stop, and she knows they have to. And she has to lose her hold on his arm and she has to put off the bandanna.

She sighs slightly and opens her eyes. She blinks. She rubs her eyes and opens them widely with disbelief.

- W-what is that?? - She already squeals. Her voice always gets high when she gets excited too suddenly. She doesn't know where to look, how to see all of them. All of the little shiny diamonds on the dark navy sky. They all are sparkling to her joyfully and casually. The whole horizon is full of them.

- This is the Light I've stolen - Branch explains.

The Night isn't as dark as before. She even can see the god's blue shades. Everything looks a bit more friendly and welcoming. Much warmer. Poppy eyes jump from one dot of light to another trying to adore every single one. But the most beautiful they are together. They are like huge breathtaking paintings in the sky. Painted with the dots of light. With the diamonds' dust.

- How did you call them? - Poppy asks.

- I... didn't

- Can I give them a name?

Branch chuckles.

- Sure.

- I call them "stars" - She says without even a little hesitation.

- Why?

- Because you can do nothing but stare at them.

And she isn't exaggerating. She literally keeps her head up and looks upon the sky with her mouth open wide, with her heart beating fast.

- Well, it's not true actually - Branch points out. - See, I didn't put them randomly on the horizon. Look at the shiniest one - He points at the middle of the stars' path. - It's in the north. So the lost ones can always find the direction to home at Night.

The goddess glances at the star in amazement.

- I also arranged them into pictures.

She turns her sight on him, frowning and smiling.

- I just thought you could call them boring - He shrugs his shoulders, smiling a bit.

- They are gorgeous! - Poppy beams at him. - But the pictures?! Show me the pictures!

- I call the constellations - He starts explaining while he gets down on the grass. - Come, sit down. Look at the shiniest one - He points at the north. - Five others nearby are also so bright. If you connect them like dots, they become a big troll's hair shape.

Poppy follows Branch's instruction, her sight goes from star to star until she sees the big familiar shape. She gasps quietly.

- And there - The god of the Night points at the west. - This star, this and this, and the three here. - He draws a picture before her eyes.

- Is this... A bird? - She asks, staring at the sky. - A hummingbird?

- Exactly - He smiles, getting down his hand. He leans the Staff against his shoulder like he usually does.

- And here - She points at the stars in front of her. - Those make a muffin!

Branch lifts his eyebrows, looking in the direction.

- Damn straight - He chuckles. - I didn't make it!

- And there - She points at the eight bright stars shining above her head. - This is a funny shape. Like... I've seen it somewhere, but what is this?

Branch tilts his head back to see what she points at.

- You mean this - He draws the shape in the air.

- Yes!

- I didn't make it either. But it looks so clear, it's so visible. I have no idea what it is.

- It's like - Poppy draws the shape on the ground. - I think I saw birds doing that. They were umm... Swans? They were doing it with their necks. They were touching each other's noses like that. - She gets her fingers together, imitating two birds' heads, and forms the shape by connecting the nails of both of her hands. - Like that!

Branch frowns, looking at her hands, and then looks up at the stars.

- It's funny.

- It can be our shape! - Poppy beams.

- What - He chuckles.

- Yeah, like our symbol. Symbol of our teamwork.

- It's kinda useless.

- You bore. It's just for fun!

The goddess of the Day lifts her hand and forms her hand into half of the stars' shape.

- And you make the other half - She encourages.

He frowns but also smiles. He lifts his hand and forms it into another half of the shape. And now their hands make it. Two little bows against the background of a huge stars’ constellation.

- You have to know that the stars aren't the only thing I made - Branch says, getting his hand down.

She looks at him in awe.

- There's more?

- Yes, I've just waited for... - He stops, something gets his attention. He focuses on it for a moment. And suddenly he catches this in the air. He shows her his closed fist. - Look. - He whispers and then blows slightly to the inside of his hand. The tiny, gold light flies from it to Poppy's face. It sits on her nose and she squints at it, making Branch giggles.

She takes it carefully on her finger and glances. It is a little bag with tiny wings. Its body glows in beautiful gold.

- Lightning bug - The god whispers. He gets her face to her hand and blows at the insect once again. The bug flies away, floating low above the grass.

- It's...

- Wait - He interrupts her. - Look at him

She doesn't take her eyes from a tiny bug until she sees another one that lights on the grass. One by one little gold dots light up and start flying about, filling the meadow with a bright yellow glow. After a few minutes lightning bugs are everywhere. Poppy's mind stops working for a moment, she can't hold so many beautiful things at once.

- How many... How much Light did you have? - She asks almost breathlessly.

- Well, a bit too much. After making stars and lightning bugs I still had so much of it, so I told Milton to put it into animals' eyes.

The goddess frowns with a little surprise.

- But why? I mean... Where did those ideas come from? What inspired you? Wha... Don't get me wrong, those all are amazing and my dictionary just stops at the word "wow'' and I can't say anything but that - She says, looking at the glowing bugs and the stars above the meadow. - But... How did you make those up? What for?

The Silence falls between them. She waits patiently for an answer, thinking that he just needs a while to think about her questions. But what he says is a bit unexpected:

- You... You don't know?

Poppy turns her face to him, frowning with surprise.

- Know what?

Branch shows slowly at the meadow and the sky.

- The stars. The lightning bugs. Don't they look familiar to you?

She wonders what it would be familiar with, but she has no idea what he's talking about.

- No. I have never seen anything like that - She replies.

Branch blinks a few times. Then he stands up, encouraging her with a gesture to do the same.

- I'll show you one more thing - He says in a weird tone and starts walking toward the nearest lake. She follows him, exploding with curiosity in her. When they arrive at the shore, Branch stops and points at the water surface.

Poppy glances at it and smiles. The lake is filled with the reflection of million stars in the sky. It looks like there are twice more of them, now on the sky and the ground. The view is breathtaking.

And then Branch gets the Staff of Light down, close to the water and the Gold Sphere illuminates the surface with its blue glow. Poppy gasps.

Her reflection. Her pink reflection of the water. She has nave seen it at the Night until now because it was too dark. Her face... Her face full of light, twinkling pink freckles, her hair sparkling like it has thousands of tiny diamonds in it, her eyes illuminate slightly.

She looks at the stars above her reflection. Millions of tiny diamonds. The lightning bug twinkling in the grass. Illuminating animals' eyes.

- You are beautiful, Poppy - She hears his warm whisper next to her. - I wanted to make the world as beautiful.

Breathless. She is breathless. It's not like she doesn't know she is beautiful. Every single goddess is godly beautiful and every single god is godly handsome. So nothing is revealing with noticing she is beautiful. Cause she is. But... The way he said it. The way he feels it. She shivers while thinking it loud in her mind. He is adoring her. He is amazed by her. He made this all... Hummingbirds, lightning bugs, stars, and shadows... All because she delights him. And it is... The weirdest feeling she ever has. Her heart is rushing, like after a long run. Her face is hot, and she sees in her reflection that it also turns red. Her whole body melts, like a snowman in the spring. She feels weak, but also good. Why does that all feel so good?

The goddess finally turns to him and their eyes meet. Is there anything more pleasant than a warm, tender smile on Branch's light blue face? It turns a little purple actually.

She touches his cheek to his surprise. He blinks but doesn't protest when she's moving her fingers gently across his face. His skin is a bit warmer, but still not as warm as her hand. It's interesting for her.

- Your cheeks turn purple - Poppy says, letting go from his face.

- And yours turn red - He smiles so widely, feeling like a dork.

- Is that some weird Immortals' sickness?

- Maybe... I don't hear about something like that.

- Well - She smiles at him as wide and dork as he. - I feel this only when I'm with you.

- Everything is my fault, as always.

She chuckles.

- I mean... It's a weird thing, but... I like it

His eyes dive into hers. His smile gets warmer, she has no idea how it is even possible.

- So am I - He whispers.

She heaves a sigh. She can stare at his azure eyes for hours. She wishes she could do something to show him that she adores him as much as he adores her. He deserves to know, but... She doesn't know words for describing it. Can she make such a wonderful thing as stars or lightning bugs? Or hummingbirds? She dives into his eyes and loses her mind for a minute...

- I'm sorry, but... - Poppy feels a bit drunk because of the tension between them. She needs a deep breath. She forces herself to take her sight from Branch's eyes and looks at the Staff. - You have your responsibilities.

- And you have to sleep - The god chuckles.

- Nooo - She groans out, giggling. - Please, no this time

- No, no, I was joking - He smiles and gives her his arm. - Would you like you to walk with me?

- You don't need to ask - She beams, embracing his arm with the full happy smile on her sparkling pink face.

_________________________________________________

Index

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kilyra · 4 years

Text

You Gotta F*ck Dead Guys?

A/N: My apologies right off the bat because Eric doesn’t actually make an appearance until towards the end - but until then, there are a few fun cameos! This follows immediately after “You Work for Him?” Like essentially a Pt 1, Pt 2 situation.

After Eric’s display at Merlotte’s, you decide to head out outside and find him. That turns out to be a very, very bad idea.

Warnings: Bad language and violence. No spoilers though (I myself am only on S3 or 4, so this is an early Eric style fic…also, please don’t send me any spoilers).

If you want to be on my tag lists, (all or just a character) just let me know! (Credit for this amazing gif goes to @bonniebird. Thank you SO much!)

Pressing your back against the wall, you were trapped by Lafayette's knowing stare when all you wanted to do was get back to your table. Finally, you raised your eyebrows in a silent question – what?

“You gonna tell me what that was all about or do I actually have to ask what the hell it is you got yourself into?”

“I didn't do this,” you snapped as your eyes darted to the side.

The adrenaline had yet to subside from your veins even more than an hour after Eric had left Merlotte's. Every time you calmed down, the scene would replay in your head and your anxiety spiked all over again. Taking a moment in the washroom and splashing cold water on your face didn't snap you out of it.

Your string of drinks almost had but...

Lafayette's voice dropped as he pointedly tilted his large metal spatula in your direction. "Girl, I'm not playing here. Eric fucking Northman would never come all up in this place for no good reason.”

Your mind skipped over why he had such strong opinions about the vampire and went straight to his accusations. Waving him off, you continued side-stepping along the wall – this was the last thing you needed. "Why don't you ask Sookie?"

“Well, honey, that's hard to do when she's a no show.”

Although he never tried to block your exit, his blunt statement stopped you just as effectively. As you swallowed back the new surge of panic that scrambled up from your chest, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He was clearly waiting for you to come back to him with an expectant quirk of his eyebrow.

Running your tongue over your lips, you took a deep inhale. It didn't help. “She...didn't show up today? As in she's...missing?”

Taking a long moment, Lafayette's eyes dropped over you, making no effort to hide that he was searching you, head to toe, for visual clues of what was going on. “As in she called to say she couldn't make it. Again.”

A small glimmer of relief settled over your fear. It still wasn't good, but at least she wasn't dead. The fact that your mind went straight to death was something else you couldn't deal with. “I have to go.”

“Mmmhmm," he hummed in an irritated tone but didn't try to stop you. He had always been good at reading you and especially at knowing when it was pointless to push.

Hoyt and Jason immediately stopped their conversation as you approached the table and scooped your jacket from your side of the booth. Softly, Hoyt tapped his knuckles on the table to get your attention. “Oh, what? Sick of us already?”

You needed to find out what was going on, and Eric obviously wasn't coming back to the bar.

Scoffing lightly, you plastered a relaxed grin on your face. It came shockingly easily to you. “No, no, my ride's here is all. So thanks, it was fun...and hopefully tomorrow won't be such a shitty day.”

Rolling his eyes with a half shrug, Hoyt let it go. But Jason shoved himself from the booth and immediately stood in your way after you downed the last of your drink. His dark brown eyes were filled with deep-seated concern as he leaned towards you. "You sure it's a good idea to be alone right now? If you wait just a minute, I can pay up and come with you."

Letting out a long sigh through your nose, you couldn't help the slight aggravation that swirled into your chest from his sweet gesture. Having him with you wasn't going to help. Finishing your sigh with a chuckle, and hoping that was a good enough cover, you added a nose crinkle to your ongoing smile. “Oh, come on now, there's nothing to worry about. I'm not in any danger.”

Jason's lips pinched together as he quietly thought everything over. “I don't know, Y/n. That didn't seem very friendly like.”

Resting your hand on his solidly toned arm, you gave a reassuring squeeze. “Seriously, Jason, it's fine. Besides, you have to invite a vampire into your home and you can't possibly think I'm that dumb.”

Because that would be dumb...

Glancing down at your hand, he rubbed the back of his neck before he finally nodded. “Aw, hell, of course I don't. I just...look you got my number, alright? Make sure you use it is all.”

After repeatedly promising, you were still shocked that he let you go without following you out. All it would have taken was a single glance outside to see there was no ride. But as you hurried out of the parking lot, no worried shouts came to try to stop you.

Although you had only walked to Merlotte's a time or two before, you were confident you knew the way back home. What you didn't count on, however, was how different everything looked in the dark. While it was unimposing during the day, the shadows from the trees seemed to reach out for you with clawing hands at night. You quickened the pace.

It didn't take long before the alcohol wore off enough that you started questioning how good of an idea it was. Truthfully, you hadn't expected to make it much past the bar before Eric turned up to confront you. But, as you made your way along the deserted rural road, the little voice of reason...the one that spent way too much time being quiet lately...spoke up.

Get back to Merlotte's. This was a stupid idea.

But, just as you paused to turn back, there was a rustling in the bush.

And, just like that, your doubts disappeared in a wave of anger – partly for confronting you like he did and partly for letting you walk alone as long as he did. Huffing forcefully, you spun on your heel. “Well holy shit, about time. You wanted to talk so badly, so come out of there and lets fucking talk.”

Silence.

Clenching your jaw, you scanned the trees, waiting for Eric or even Pam to emerge. After a few long moments, a figure finally came out of the brush. Flanked by a few other figures. None of them were the tall, slim silhouettes you were expecting. Your pulse raced just a little faster.

As they came onto the road, the silver moonlight lit up their faces and you recognized them immediately. The mouth-breathers from Merlotte's with the suspiciously clean trucker hats.

Your heart dropped.

“Bad news, you fangbanging bitch but it ain't your pretty boy vamp out here.” It was too dark to see which one said it. Not that it mattered.

“You think she was really just planning on talking?”

“No. What's a matter baby, is a real man too much for you? You gotta fuck dead guys?”

Their sneering comments back and forth flooded you with the horror of your situation. You were out there alone and severely outnumbered. Not even Jason's training could help the odds. Through your panic haze, one clear thought came to the surface.

Run.

Darting to the side, you scrambled headlong into the treeline, leaving them yelling after you as though it would stop you. Following their chorus of swears came the crunching of leaves and twigs as they trampled the ground behind you. Trying to part the way with your forearms up over your face, you ignored the thin vines and branches that scraped your skin.

Blindly running, you had no idea where you were going and sharply veered to the side to take a less predictable path. Stumbling forward, you caught yourself with one knee on the ground and your hand braced against a rough tree trunk. Holding your shaking breath, you listened for your pursuers but it was hard to hear anything over the rushing in your ears. It sounded like they had gone straight, that your turn might have helped...

Carefully, you pulled yourself to your feet, attempting to be quiet. Your chin quivered as the adrenaline caught up to you, railing against the painstakingly slow movements you were taking. As your heart hammered violently against your rib cage, you kept your panting to shallow sips of air and crept forward.

Your efforts didn't matter. Just as you came close to a clearing, thick arms wrapped around you from behind. Everything inside you screamed out, but you stayed silent as he growled. “Got you now, bitch.”

Dropping one foot back, you grabbed his elbow and bent forward, throwing yourself as hard as you could. He was too stunned to fight it as you pulled him with you, catching his side on your hip. His foot tripped on your shin, taking away his last chance of staying upright and he flipped onto his back in front of you, letting out a pained grunt.

It worked. Jason's relentless training worked.

The surprising victory was short-lived as you dropped your grip and started running. Suddenly, your face met the ground.

Blinking away the stars dancing over your vision, you turned back and saw his hand clamped over your ankle. His teeth seemed to glow in the dim light as he grinned and roughly yanked you back to him. Your body went on autopilot as you kicked your free leg at his face, grinding his nose under the heel of your boot.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Blood sprayed with each stomp, followed by the crunching, squelching sound of his broken nose being split open. His teeth didn't glow so much once they were coated in his dark blood.

Getting your feet under you, you didn't care how loud you were as you raced into the clearing. As you ran, you starting pulling a long, silver chain from around your neck. It was thicker than a decorative necklace so you kept it under your shirt, but it had been a good idea that Jason came up with. Or had gotten from Sookie, more likely.

Even though the assholes chasing you weren't vampires, the chain was solid enough to at least hurt if you whipped it hard enough. And you planned to.

Reaching the small clearing, you realized you didn't hear lumbering footsteps behind you. Not slowing, you scrambled to cross over to the trees on the opposite side. But before you dashed back into the bushes, an odd sound caught your attention. You couldn't help but freeze.

A rustle followed by a loud thud. And again. The sound got closer until the last one was just at the edge of the clearing where you kicked the man off you. But that time, you could hear a loud groan of pain. Something was very, very wrong.

Run.

A whooshing kicked up from behind as your feet came back to life and you dove forward. But the safety of the trees didn't get any closer. Distantly, you realized you weren't moving, your feet were just sliding on the grass. Something was holding you back.

Wrapping one end of the chain around your hand, you swung wildly as you turned. There was a blur and a hand caught your flailing wrist, the chain bouncing harmlessly off the sleeve of a leather jacket. The long, honey-blonde hair that framed your attacker's face didn't even stir at the unnatural motion. Looking up, you found yourself staring into piercing blue eyes before they dropped to the chain still swinging against the fabric.

Snapping back to you, with a high arch of the eyebrow, the memorizing eyes dulled with irritation. It took your scrambling mind a few seconds to realize who was holding you, frowning as though you were a child having a tantrum.

Pam.

Her grip was unyielding as she spoke over her shoulder. “Eric, if your pet burns me with silver...we won't have to worry about saving her anymore.”

“S-saving me? From...from those guys?”

Snorting, Pam finally let you go as she rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Like I'd waste my time saving you from idiot, drunken locals.”

“Speaking of those idiot, drunken locals, Pam...you didn't kill any of them, did you? Because we can't afford an incident like that right now.” Eric's cool voice seemed to drift to you from somewhere behind the vampire staring you down.

Shrugging, she turned towards the voice. “I wasn't trying to.”

“Pam.”

“What? They'll probably be fine. Hell, I couldn't have hurt them any worse than Y/n did. Did you see him? He hardly had a nose left...”

Your insides clenched as the image of his blood-covered face flashed through your mind, and Pam's grin made it worse. When she glanced down at you, there was even a hint of pride in her stare. It took everything you had left to force the bile back down your throat.

"Go get Chow from Y/n's house and bring the car here. We need to get back to Fangtasia." Apparently, they expected you to get a ride home as well.

Pam's smirk dropped, but she didn't argue. In a blur, she disappeared, leaving Eric standing before you. His eyebrows rose as he frowned. It almost looked apologetic, but you knew that couldn't be right.

Swallowing heavily, you desperately tried to stop your mind from reeling. Everything was a frenzied mess and you couldn't tell if you were relieved or angry to see his icy eyes drinking you in as he stood a few feet away.

“I suppose you expect me to be grateful or some shit?”

Your fire carved out a deep grin on his lips and...unless you were delusional..a similar look of pride to Pam's. But when he spoke, his voice was as dispassionate. “I only expect you to get in the car. As I said, we need to get back to Fangtasia.”

“A-as...as you said? Y-you haven't said anything! You cause this entire shit storm and then just start bossing me around?” The words sputtered out as you struggled to grasp any of your racing thoughts.

Blinking, Eric spread his hands apart, looking the part of the confused and innocent man. "I've spent this entire night trying to help you, at a great personal inconvenience I might add."

The chain rattled lightly as you balled your hands into tight fists. “None of this would have happened if you hadn't just shown up like that! What did you think would happen if you singled me out in front of a bunch of small-minded bigots?”

Stepping closer, he titled his head as a faint furrow traced a light line between his eyes. “And so you expect to keep this a secret? How well do you think that will work?”

Taking a subconscious step back, you thought you caught a fleeting look of disappointment flashing across his features. It stabbed at you. "I-I...this...This? What even is this?”

Straightening, he turned his head slightly, as though he caught a distant noise that you had no hope of hearing. “At the moment? More of a problem for you than you realize.”

A thin layer of confusion rolled through you, forcing you into a sudden stillness. It wasn't the answer you were expecting. Even your voice grew softer. “Look...I'm sorry for how I reacted at Merlotte's but-”

His face snapped back towards you, cutting you short with just his hard stare. “While I'm sure it's tearing you up inside, that's not what I'm talking about.”

The sarcasm cut as deeply as his earlier look of disappointment, but you stayed quiet.

“It seems the declaration I was pushed into, claiming you as mine, has painted a target on your back.”

Your mouth went dry, and you stumbled back another step. Within that second, all the bolstering strength you found in training to defend yourself simply dissolved. What were you in his world but a lamb being led to slaughter?

“I...I don't understand?" Had there been even a slight breeze in the air, it would have swept your soft words away entirely.

Eric's cold features seemed to take on a mild hint of warmth as he moved towards you. His eyes bore into yours as he carefully set his hand on your arm. “I'll explain everything. But we need to go.”

Your gaze drifted past him, looking over the clearing. Somewhere in the trees laid several unconscious men. Bad men who were ready to do worse to someone they didn't even know. And yet, anyone passing by would have no idea. The world was still and calm. A quiet, deceptive lie in the soft light of the moon.

“Y/n, we need to leave. Now.”

Although his words had a trace of his usual, commanding tone, there was something subtly different. Almost like there was a plea buried deep in there. You both knew he could snatch you up and take you anywhere whether you wanted him to or not. And yet, there he was, asking you to see reason and make the choice to go with him.

A quiet confidence trickled through you, melting what was left of your anger. Things were changing and trying to keep fighting it was draining you to your core. Letting out a long sigh, you lowered the chain and stepped towards him, bumping your forehead against his chest. His heavy arm wrapped around your shoulder as you pulled yourself against him and finally nodded.

He gave a gentle squeeze before you pulled away and let him guide you from the clearing. “Good. Because we also have to get you cleaned up. You're a mess and we just can't have that.”

That time, you were certain you saw a faint grin tug at the edge of his lips.

Taglist: @foreverfaeries @flower-two @getlostinyourparadise @selfishkiddo @angelicshinigami @parkersbabey @thatchampagnebitch @mysteryoflovve @edweirdoddlepot @divadinag @crazy-fandom-girl1 @givemeabite @breanime @shondlenoodle @hermionesalvatore84 @dyingformyships @dreamers-wonderland @adriellej @bitchader

#Eric northman x reader #eric x reader #eric northman #true blood #true blood fic

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spinningwebsandtales · 4 years

Text

Imagine Trying To Change Jotaro’s Mind About Valentine’s Day

(A/N): Happy Valentine’s Day everyone. Sorry for my lack of posting, my idea well has been a tad dry here lately. And time has not been too kind to me, I haven’t had a moment to try to think of ideas but luckily this idea came to me for a special Valentine’s day imagine that turned out to be kinda a short fan fic instead. So hopefully this makes up for my lack of posting. I do still have a fanfiction idea I just haven’t had time to sit down and write it just yet but I’ll try to do that soon. Until then happy reading and to all my fellow single ladies you are strong independent women who don’t need no man! ;3

Tags: Fluff, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, Jotaro Kujo

Warnings: Some suggestive themes

Word Count: 1,606

People had warned you that Jotaro would be unloving towards you in your relationship, they also said it wouldn’t last. Jotaro seemed cold and harsh to most people due to his outward appearance and the way he treated most people. While he did have his flaws you could also see the good he tried to keep hidden deep inside. You felt proud of yourself for proving the ones wrong that said you and Jotaro wouldn’t stay together as you woke on the beautiful morning of Valentine’s Day curled into the side of your husband of five years now, it put a smile on your face every time. While he wasn’t the most romantic man around, you felt well loved and adored every time you looked into his eyes. He had been awake for some time now but he couldn’t bear the thought of waking you up so he laid there for as long as he needed to to let you sleep as much as you wanted.

“Morning,” you sighed stretching like a lazy cat.

“Mornin’,” he grumbled touching a strand of hair on your head that was sticking straight up. “Looks like you slept well.”

“I did,” you purred once again snuggling to Jotaro. “It helps when I have my own personal heater.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint tinge of pink to his cheeks. You didn’t poke fun at him anymore deciding on peppering him with kisses swirling your fingertip on the skin of his pectoral muscle.

“Happy Valentine’s Day by the way,” you said after a few moments of coddling him.

“Yare yare daze. What a stupid holiday.” He pushed the blankets off his hips before getting out of bed. He left you pouting there on the mattress. Yeah Valentine’s Day seemed silly and overdone. With everything red and pink taking over shelves at grocery stores. Fresh cut flowers for sale just about every where you turned around and couples making extravagant plans. While that part seemed ridiculous showing the person you loved how much you loved them with just small gestures seemed to be the most important part. That’s what you thought anyway. While Jotaro stayed in the bathroom showering and getting ready for the day was when you started planning. You giggled to yourself looking up a few little things on your phone to plan a day that would make Jotaro Kujo change his entire outlook on Valentine’s Day.

You had laid out some of his best but comfortable clothes as he exited the shower, hair plastered to his skull and a towel wrapped precariously around his waist. Another kiss on his cheek and you took your turn in the shower. Washing your hair and body didn’t take long but styling your hair was what was taking the most time in the bathroom. Putting on your robe and tying it around your middle you sat at your vanity putting on a little makeup before deciding to wear a nice pair of shorts and a button up shirt. Putting on your flip flops you took Jotaro by the hand pulling him up from the couch. He complained and seemed obstinate about not going anywhere but you eventually wore him down. He didn’t ask where you both were going and he didn’t seem to want to converse much on this day, but that was normal. You told him where to turn and kept talking to which he would answer with a grunt or sigh. Once the first sign came up his demeanor seemed to change. You smiled to yourself still not telling him anything, he was a smart man he could figure out himself. By the time the third sign went by the driver side window Jotaro knew what you were up to though he couldn’t help but show a twinge of excitement. It wasn’t every day that he got to visit the aquarium. Despite knowing exactly what you were up to, thinking that you could change his mind about Valentine’s Day. He did have to admit though you were playing your cards right and knew exactly how to make him happy. Finding a parking spot you took his offered hand, giggling to yourself at how so far you were winning the Valentine’s war.

At this time there wasn’t many people around and you knew many people wouldn’t want to spend their Valentine’s at a place smelling of salt water and fish. Though honestly you loved every moment at the aquarium mostly because you knew that it was making Jotaro happy. Walking through the building the colors of the fish made you gape in awe. Jotaro took to explaining every type before spending a little extra time at the shark exhibit. You personally liked the jellyfish the most, their slow movements soothing. You both stayed at the aquarium until the sun set and your feet were killing you. You definitely regretted not wearing tennis shoes but your want to look cute for your husband had outweighed practical. Jotaro ended up giving you a piggy back ride back to the car.

“Where to now,” he asked knowing that you were far from done trying to change his mind.

“Since you know what I’m up to by now go to the beach my darling. We are eating at the new restaurant that opened up on the pier. The fleeting look of shock would have been missed if you blinked. You grinned smugly knowing that you in fact didn’t miss his shocked expression. Reservations were nonexistent but you were able to pull a few strings and get a reservation for a table that overlooked the ocean. A perfect place to dine and watch the sunset with the husband you loved so dearly. The restaurant was bustling but you were immediately taken to the table you had reserved. Two menus were placed before you and Jotaro before the waiter was off buzzing around other tables before going to get your drinks. It didn’t take long to figure out what you wanted to eat and Jotaro knew what he wanted as well. With orders placed and the quiet of outside washing over you both it was a blessed moment of serenity. Waves crashed against the shore making you sigh contently. You played with a strand of hair while watching the ocean. Jotaro wasn’t for small talk so you had found ways to distract yourself during the silence between you. Others would stare at the weird couple who wouldn’t talk to one another but you ignored them. If they couldn’t understand that Jotaro did in-fact love you but didn’t enjoy talking very much that was on them. You loved Jotaro for him and no opinion could change that.

“Hey,” he finally spoke. Looking away from the ocean and dropping your hair to brush against your chest you looked at him. His hat brim was covering his face from your vision. “Thanks for today. I’ve had a lot of fun and maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t so bad.”

You wanted to shout in victory but your only answer was to lift his face to look into yours with a finger under his chin. Your lips brushed lightly against his testing to see if he wanted to reciprocate your actions. He cupped your face almost dragging you across the table, causing the drinks to wobble but Star Platinum righted them keeping them from spilling onto the floor. With Jotaro kissing you fiercely you groaned gently moving your mouth against his. Ignoring the looks and chuckles Jotaro released you to sit back down in your chair across from him though his eyes burned with an intensity that promised to continue what you had started in the privacy of home. Now it was your turn to blush knowing what you had awakened inside your husband, but you couldn’t help but feel excited. Despite the commotion your meals were brought promptly, blessing the food you dug in savoring the amazing flavors.

With stomachs full and check paid you and Jotaro made your way down to the beach. Removing your flip flops you enjoyed the feeling of sand between your toes. Thanks the the evening weather the sand wasn’t cooking your feet and you could actually enjoy walking across the beach at a slow pace. Jotaro wouldn’t let your hand go even when you decided to dip your toes into the salty water. You laughed skipping across the shore with a lagging Jotaro in tow. He smiled as he watched you play and run. He would never forget why he fell in love and married you, even just looking at you reminded him every time. Planting his feet while still keeping a firm grip on your hand you were stopped abruptly the momentum yanking you backwards. You yelped before colliding with Jotaro’s unyielding chest. His arms were wrapped around you securing your smaller body to his. His lips brushed against your neck giving small kisses before nibbling at your earlobe. You squirmed a little earning a squeeze to stop your movements.

“What’s say we go home and finish what you started at the restaurant?”

You squeaked, “Says the man who basically ripped me across the table like a rabid maniac.”

He laughed lowly a sultry tone that had you shivering. “Like you didn’t like it. Now let’s get you to bed but we won’t be sleeping.”

You knew your face was blood red with a blush that was most likely up to your ears while a determined Jotaro lead you back to the car. Something told you that Jotaro was going to be willing to celebrate Valentine’s Day every year from now on.

#Jotaro Kujo X Reader #Jotaro Kujo / Reader #Jotaro Kujo #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jotaro Kujo Imagine #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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elizabethsharmon · 4 years

Note

Now that s5 has ended what do you think about it? I remember seeing you be quite vocal about the season and then you just stopped and I was just wondering what your general opinion is. Did the fandom scare you away? :(

hey there! I kind of stopped being so loud about the show here cause at some point I just gave up about s5 and don’t worry, it would take a lot for fandom to scare me away and i’ll be back with my usual bullshit in 2 weeks with s6 clip by clip reactions ✌️ anyway, i was going through my archive while writing this to remind myself of what happened in each clip and what were mine and fandom’s reactions to it and somehow when I started writing this, it turned out I can’t stop and it got quite long so I'mputting it under read more:

So first of all may I just say that the trailer/firstclip was one of my favourite clips of all times. It was just SO GOOD and to meit was like a dream come true cause I was talking about dropping a clip andstarting a season on New Year since July AND THEY DID IT AND IT WAS E P I C,such a power move, I love it. Honestly everything worked there, the music wasamazing, it was so wonderful to see both squads partying together, it wasperfect, 11/10.

Then the season started and I absolutely loved thefirst two episodes, we really started to get into Arthur's head, to get to knowhim and his family, find out how insecure he is and how well he's hidingeverything from others, and Arthur and Alexia clips!!!! They worked so welltogether and were so cute and supportive, I said it back then that if they ruinthem I will never forgive them for that because what was the point of makingthem a couple in the first place?? I still don't understand that, I don't thinkI ever will... Fast forward to the first Wednesday of the season aka underwatermale gaze aka the moment I knew we're in for a ride and it won't be a goodone... When the clip started I was over the moon, I'm a swimming hoe myself andI loved that they used the pool for actual swimming, the cinematography wasbeautiful and I loved that they found a way to incorporate Lisa into the story.That was until Arthur dived and saw Noee... and sadly, this was the firstmoment I emotionally yeeted out from the season. Don't even get me started howwrong it was - 1. using the pool which is a sacred place in the show’smythology; 2. using piano music; 3. peak male gaze, objectifying Noee, andArthur staring at her even though HE HAD A GIRLFRIEND; they were setting it upas a love triangle from the beginning and after those 10+ weeks I still havethe same question about it as I had back then: why. It was also the first timefandom started to be hostile and the shipping war began, some people werecoming to my and my friends' inboxes, sending us anons to stop thinking theworse about Arthur, that love triangle will definitely not happen and thatDavid explained on his insta that they used the setting of pool in another waythan it was used in og s3... Well, jokes on you cause we were right. Anyway thatWednesday clip was to me the first red flag of the season, the first momentwhen some people started attacking others, when the fandom police started formingand suddenly you couldn't say anything because someone would jump on you andsend hate.

But I decided to let it slide, hoping that they reallywouldn't go there (spoiler alert: they did) and then we got Friday clips withelu housewarming (i'm still emo!!!) and Arthur losing his hearing permanently.It was absolutely heartbreaking to find out he lost hearing in his left ear 2years ago, it was a real game changer back then and suddenly everything changed- why he was looking at Alexia so intently, why he didn't cover his left ear atnye party, etc. I absolutely LOVED the way they handled the topic at thebeginning with Jerome explaining everything to Arthur and to us and I LOVED thepositive discourse it started within the fandom with deaf/hoh people teachingothers and explaining things without getting mad at silly questions - tbh to meit was one of the best parts of the first half of the season and I'm reallygrateful for it ❤️

Sunday clips with gang were one of my favourite in theseason, I think Arthur took us all by surprise when he went to elu's flat totell the guys that he can't hear and they were chaotic and supporting andamazing and wow, I really don't understand what the fuck happened and wherethey disappeared in the second half of the season. I loved that they hinted aturbex king Eliott and I kinda feel like that might come back in s6....... butanyway. The 7 amclips were absolutely one of the highlights of the season. They helped to buildsome sort of routine and Robin absolutely nailed them, I could feel howpowerless and more frustrated he was feeling AND I also felt betrayed that wedidn't get one on Thursday and Friday. Even though after the first pool clip Iwas dreading every single next clip there, I really liked that they were showingus that Arthur goes there every Wednesday, it really helped to get inside hishead and to understand him more and I kinda wish they hadn't stopped thatbecause it would be a really power move to keep showing that. Alexia in episode2 was just WOW, i can't believe there were people who were saying she andArthur don't have chemistry or that he should break up with her because she'snot supportive - well, she proved you all wrong. Too bad Arthur was too dumband self-absorbed to appreciate that.

BASILE/ARTHUR FRIENDSHIP. All their clips were solovely and heartwarming, I loved how different Basile was in Arthur's pov toBasile we knew at the beginning of s3; when he didn't want to leave Arthuruntil he said back that he loves him :'))) wholesome. I kinda wish we got tosee more of those two, they're definitely hanging out just the two of them andthat's what was lacking for me, those 3 or so clips of just the two of thembeing wholesome buddies were great but they were not enough.

The party clip on Thursday of ep2 was great, I lovedhow they're giving us little insights of deaf/hoh community and showing usArthur getting drawn to it. I wish that it wasn't overshadowed by love triangleand we got more of it, but I'll be back to it later...

Now, episode 3 and 4 were strong in the term of clipsbut those two weeks were incredibly boring when you were watching it in realtime. The breaks were too long, there were three clipless days each episodewith hardly any social media update and at times it made me forget about theshow completely. The bar clip in ep3 was great until they started sayingproblematic shit and tbh I was really starting to stress over Eliott then -first we got a hint that housewarming party was canceled because he wasn't feelingwell, now over a week later he's not feeling well again and Lucas' "he'smy boyfriend and i love him" was very cute and I loved it but it alsostarted to lead to misery porn and this dread didn't leave me until the end ofthe season and I'm still worried that it will play a part in s6 and it won't behandled well (disclaimer: this is not about the fact that they're talking aboutEliott's MI, it's about how Lucas started to act like a martyr and the way theystarted to show him acting almost like Lucille).

Episode 3 was also the time when I think it becameobvious that Arthur's short outburst of communication was gone and we'll haveto deal with next few weeks of miscommunication, sulking and hiding. Beginningof ep4 was another moment for me when I wanted to escape from this seasonbecause of the fandom police - they created as hostile atmosphere for the fanswatching in real time as druck stans did during s3, when you couldn't commentanything or say anything without other people jumping on you, calling you outand hating you, that for a moment again I was ready to give up on the show. Ireally wish I had done it.

As much as I liked stupid gang content in thecafeteria the whole clip was kinda odd and the 1,5 days break between the clipand laser tag was too much. I feel like the pacing in episode 4 really didn'twork in their favour and the clips could've been placed in another order sothat the breaks weren't so long. The laser tag was such a strong clip withbeautiful cinematography and colouring and it showed us Arthur's problems withsensory overload and again - I wish we could find out more about it because inthe end the clip was too short and cut abruptly only for Arthur to go to Noeeto see her dance in a scene that was pure male gaze, where the camera lingeredon her flat, bare stomach, a few times showing close up of her boobs. And yes.I am aware sing language is a bodily language. But the thing is that itcould've been shown differently, without so many objectifying shots, with Noeewearing different clothes, without Arthur staring at her with his jaw dropped.Arthur who - may i remind you - had a girlfriend at that time. I can watchgore, I can watch open surgeries, I can watch blood, and fight, and beating,and all that without the blink of the eye. i could barely watch the clip ofNoee dancing. I've never felt so sick after watching something in my life, Ihad to go offline for a few hours cause I was feeling so unwell. This was sucha fucked up scene to film in such a way, to objectify her, to use male gaze, touse piano music, slow motion, man looking at her in a predatory way, and thisscene was so wrong on so many levels itself but when you add to it the factthat Alexia NEVER got scenes like that and all her dancing scenes showed her basicallyas a quirky friend having fun at parties. And that's disgusting.

But let's move on to episode 5. I loved all the scenesin the asso, I loved that they showed Arthur actually going to LSF classes, Iloved how he confronted his father about it later. Though episode 5 was alsothe start of the boy squad becoming brainless idiots, lying to his friend,plotting behind his back, going to a concert without him. Episode of beautifulcinematography and skating scene that I watched trying not to think about thefact that Arthur is basically having a date with another girl while hisgirlfriend is studying for her bac, of an oblivious guy not wanting to stop itbefore it's too late and everyone's hearts will be broken.... I loved that hesnapped at the guys in the detention clip. I liked the following clip withAlexia, when they made her talk about her insecurities, showed us how strongshe is but also how fragile she is at the same time. But that Sunday of episode6 was the moment I ultimately realized I don't care any more about this season.It was already ruined for me. Alexia opening up, Alexia asking Arthur aboutNoee and him saying the worst ableist shit ever, Arthur breaking Noee'sheart... Those three clips made me realize that for me it's too late, thedamage is done, and I won't be able to enjoy this season for real. Alexia wasbound to get her heart broken, I was pitying Noee because it wasn't her fault aguy she had a crush on kept on leading her for weeks, and Arthur... I dislikedhim more and more and I just wanted it to be over.

I loved all clips with Laura and Melchior, the playfuldynamic in their interactions with Arthur was one of the best things of theseason and I can't stop but think that we could've had the same thing but withArthur, Noee, and Camille. Meanwhile Noee was reduced to manic pixie dreamgirl, a homewrecker, a plot device, and Camille was there only to translate(and later to be Mika's boyfriend). I really liked the clip with Noee andArthur reading her letter about cochlear implant, it was very informative andit was the kind of content I really wanted to see in this season. The onlything I hated about it - which was a recurring theme in clips with Noee... - isthat Arthur kept forgetting about Alexia and this was so unfair to her.

Now. The Valentine's Day. I loved the sourd datingclip, again, it was something that I wanted to see in the season and it was avery strong clip. But then the rest of the episode... I really wish it didn'texist. Jumping to the pool in clothes???? Arthur sharing his deepest trauma andNoee kissing him??? NOEE AND ARTHUR SHIPPERS JUMPING ON PEOPLE SAYING THAT SHEDID IT TO COMFORT HIM???? Sorry guys, I don't know about you but when myfriends are sharing something traumatizing to me I hug them or hold their hand,I don't kiss them with tongue. Also using a flashback??? It doesn’t go wellwith the show’s format, why was it even used???

Episode 8 was... Episode 8 was wild. And weird. Andstrange. And I don't really know what was the point of it. But despiteeverything crackfic farm au was at least entertaining and it was kind ofsomething we needed then after weeks of will they/won't they and hating Arthur.Whipped elu was everything, the fifi saga was hilarious and I rewatched itaround 50 times and it still makes me laugh - Maxence nailed it but ?? what wasthe point? they killed Eliott's bunny so that he would become vegetarian? Theywanted to traumatize him and cause him to have an episode that was cut in theend? (I really wouldn't be surprised, there are 2 clips missing from firstepisodes each, and probably more in the others). I really don't know what wasthe point. The 6h15 or sth clip was funny but if Lucas and Arthur hugging itout cause sorry bro / it's okay bro / bro / bro is what they're considering aproper apology then I'm sorry but it isn't. What's more, the pacing of thisepisode was incredibly off and the clips didn't add up and there wasn't anynatural flow to it - they should've madetwo clips on Sunday - with Arthur getting to the van and them arriving to thecountryside, two clips on Monday with 6 am and then Daphne and Basile, Fifitrilogy on Tuesday and then right after midnight on Wednesday Arthur and Alexiain the barn. Now, the cheating excusing convo... I was absolutelydisgusted by the boy squad and the fact that YANN who was cheated on in s1advised Arthur to not say anything... wow. Also I really don't like what Eliottsaid there, I understood it in that moment that he was mainly talking from aphilosophical pov that humans are never satisfied in general, but he was sayingthat during the cheating convo, right after he said that he cheated on his gfto get with his bf, he said it while Lucas was right there, knowing that he hasdeeply rooted abandonment issues and this is what made the situation worse. Ithink I'll talk more about the fandom reaction and team's comments later causethere will be a lot to unpack there so yeah, I'll leave it for now.

Because now let's move on to February 21, aka theFriday that changed everything. Can I just say that I have never seen a worseclip ever in my life? That wasn't skam. That was soap opera. And not even agood one. I can't even comprehend how they wrote THIS and thought it was good.I despise the choice of making Noee speak out loud with every fiber of mybeing. First they objectified her, reduced her to the plot device and 1/3 ofthe love triangle, and now they stripped her of her integrity for a guy who wasconstantly leading her on, who has a girlfiend. They made her so desperate tomake him stay with her that she lost a part of himself for him. And for who??For a guy who didn't give a fuck about her? Who constantly played with herfeelings? Who mocked her and her language and her culture and didn't do so onlywhen it was convenient for him? Honestly fuck him, fuck Arthur. And then A CARCRASHED INTO HIM LIKE ????????????? Someone please explain to me what was thepoint of that cause the only one I see was to provide a fandom with a greatfree entertainment.

Now, episodes 9 and 10 were overall much stronger thanthe past few weeks but it was already to late to salvage the season. We gotanother cheating apologists scene which was - again - absolutely disgusting,especially coming from Lucas - who gave Arthur the same advice he gave to Emma- and Yann - who was cheated on and knew from his own experience that stufflike that always come out in the end. It's like all their character developmentfrom previous seasons went down the drain. Arthur on the other hand seemed tohave a character regression with each passing week. I'm still appalled by whatLucas said - that Alex is their friend but Arthur is part of the gang. It wasdisgusting. And it was out of the character. And it was the worst possiblething that could've been said.

Coline's song was so beautiful and I was so happy thatArthur finally realized what he's lost, though I feel like all those intensestaring between Arthur and Noee was unnecessary again, it's like they couldn'tjust give us a break for one clip from them, it's like she was constantlystealing Alexia's moments, whether she was on screen at the time or not.

The clip with elu was sweet and gave us greatwholesome content, but it only confirmed that Lucas' abandonment issues woke upfrom their nap and I'm already dreading what they're planning to do with thatin s6, especially that according to the latest news Lucas is not very presentin the next season... The polyamory talk... It was odd. It felt force. Thebuildup to it wasn't done very well and what' more it was built on cheating.And that's doesn't bode well. It's also quite ridiculous how it took 1 minuteconversation with Lucas or even one sentence from him tbh for Arthur to go"oh yeah I'm poly. I think." and tell Noee that he loves her eventhough he spent the last couple of weeks denying that and pushing her away. IHATE that yet again they made her be so desperate and cry when he was tellingher this. That's not Noee they gave us in the first half of the season. Ireally liked the clip of Laura and Melchior and Arthur giving the presentationto the students but Arthur's grandiose speech to students and then to girls wasso strange, there wasn't any buildup to it, or more likely Arthur that we werehaving on screen from the end of ep 4 till the end of ep9 was gone and the oldArthur finally showed up. But nevertheless it was strange and not very fittingto the way how the story progressed.

NOW the last two clips - first was a little bit shortand I can't say I was a huge fan (though Eliott's kermit-like dance waseverything jdskjdkjjd) but the second clip was absolutely beautiful, we finallysaw Daphne talk, I'm still not sure what to think about Noee/Arthur (not reallya fan of how the story was resolved... or how it wasn't resolved), AND THEMURAL! LUCAS CRYING BECAUSE HE'S PROUD OF HIS BOYFRIEND! ELIOTT ONCE A YEARMAKING A MURAL OUT OF PURE LOVE! EVERYONE CRYING! ELIOTT NOT PAINTING HIMSELFBECAUSE HE DOESN'T CONSIDER HIMSELF PART OF THE SQUAD (although he is, I don'tknow why they don't understand it) and... Lola. But I guess I'll be back to itlater.

So now, I can't say I'm a fan of the season. I enjoyedsome of the clips, but overall it was a mess, love triangle and fandom and crewbehaviour ruined the season for me. I was absolutely disgusted but howprivileged fans acted on tumblr and on twitter. And yes. There are privilegedfans, fans who were shutting others up because they "don't want us to getour hopes up when we don't know what might happen", fans who were sayingthat "you don't know anything haha i can promise you don't know shit hahano i don't know anything and no i'm not jealous haha you just don't know buthaha tell me this oh how stupid you are", fans who were acting like afandom police all the freaking time, yelling at everyone to "wait and see!you don't know what will happen!". Well. We didn't. Because contrary to 5%of the "little ones-fans", the rest 95% is not privileged enough toget a special treatment, to be invited on set for filming, to know the detailsof the plot before the season airs, to know the bigger picture. It's not fair.If you really know everything then great, I'm happy for you, but let the otherswatch the show how they like, let them react to it clip by clip. Because mostof us don't know the bigger picture and don't know what will happen and how theissues will be resolved. And you are aware that the format of the show itselfencourages viewers to react to the events of the story as they resolve onscreen and through transmedia content, right? That's the essence of skam.Taking that away from the regular fans because you've been let in to some innercircle and know it all is absolutely disgusting. Don't interact with the fandomif you can't stand seeing people not agreeing with the writing choices,questioning what they watch and theorizing about what will happen. If you're soabove it, then just stick with the people like you, with those 5% or so ofknow-it-all and "enjoy" the show with them. Don't ruin the fun forothers. You're not better than anyone else. Don't act like it. Don't be ahypocrite. Don't act publicly as a fandom police, criticize everyone who sharesspoilers and call them out and write hateful posts, if you're doing the sameprivately, if you can't shut up when someone sends you a dm or a message offanon and suddenly you spill everything. Don't be fake. If you know stuff, thengreat, I don't know admit it and say that you want say anything or don't sayanything but then don't spread the spoilers and don't write cryptic comments inthe tags. It's not helping anyone and it's definitely not doing anything good.And to people on twitter currently posting what I guess they assume are vaguetweets about cast’s personal lives? Fuck you. You’re so loud, you know? Maybeyou think you’re talking in a special code only you and your friends can guessbut it’s so obvious and so disgusting, you really have no shame. Grow up andget a life.

Another thing that ruined the season for me was theway the crew was acting on twitter and instagram and I’m so so so disappointed by their behaviour,especially that I’ve always considered them as one of the most open-mindedteams who respect their fans and their opinions. Turns out they do that butonly when the reactions to the clips are positive. I mean, I kind of get it,obviously everyone wants to hear the praise, but you cannot ignore thenegative comments and fans’ concerns, especially that there were plenty of themthis season. And during social media age when it takes one click to see theliked posts or comments, it becomes obvious that the crew was only interacting (evenin such a passive way like liking comments or tweets) with fanswho were praising the show. All the negative comments and questions werebrushed off, saying that “the season will reveal its own truth” and that iffans will have any questions they will be answered after. Well, franklyspeaking, me and my friends have a list of questions that we’d love to get ananswer for:

- why was love triangle necessary?- why did they make Alexia and Arthur a couple in the first place if theywanted him to go after Noee?- why did Noee say she doesn't like talking out loud cause sign language is howshe communicates only to yell at Arthur to stop him from leaving, losing herintegrity for a guy who doesn't care about her?- car????????????????????????- cheating convos - why are they excusing it like that- treatment of Alexia & why did they include numerous comments about Alexia'sbody?- THE MALE GAZE - why did the camera focus so much on Noee's body, why was sheobjectified and why was she presented as a stark contrast to Alexia?- fifi?- p*trick and why the abuse was introduced so late in the plot and overshadowedimmediately by cheating and then followed by crackfic farm au?- why didn't we see any Arthur centered clips where he shows he likes art?- why did Arthur and space have no relevance in the season???- why are Lucas and Yann saying shit every time they open their mouths and whydid they forgot about everything that happened in s1?- the whole convo with the boy squad on valentine's day and how shitty theirreaction was - why?- why we didn't see any actual squad interactions on holidays and no realapologies?- why does the life of the characters always has to revolve around romanticrelationships?- why can't men and women be friends unless the man is gay?- what was the point of all the ship wars and skamlaserie photo withArthur/Alexia and Arthur/Noee *especially* after all the comments on twitterand on Instagram when fans were fighting already and it only made thingsescalate? Why not stop it, why pit fans against each other, why let it escalatelike that?- why draw parallels between elu and Arthur/Noee?- Why was Noee reduced to love interest and Camille to translator 90% of thetime and why don't give them similar dynamics with Arthur as Melchior and Laurahave?- how can Arthur see underwater?- Catherine - was she just a queerbait?- tuturo comment from the forum and Arthur's 'relationship' with 34 yo - whywasn’t it mentioned ever again?- how could noee not know arthur has a girlfriend since she was following himon instagram and he had photos with alexia there?- what happened with basile's birthday since they never celebrated them??- in samedi 11:04 (5x10) eliott says "i've got some croissants, do youwant me to heat them up?" which implies that he's already bought them andbrought them back to the flat BUT he's putting his jacket on as if he was aboutto leave and then he leaves and slams the door so what's the truth?

The crew completely invalidated the feelings andconcerns of the fans and what added fuel to the flame for me was thatskamlaserie post with Arthur/Noee/Alexia and caption that they can’t choosecause they love them both and… Honestly, who the hell works there. There’s beendrama for the whole week on twitter and under David’s posts on insta andinstead of finally end it, idk block the comments or just make a statement ORWHATEVER, they posted THAT on the official show’s account?? Why haven’t they stopped it? Why did they keep on pitting fans against each other up to the point that one twitter user started getting DEATH THREATS only because they translated some video??? Absolutely disgusting.@skamlaserie and @fr team: hate to break it to you but there's nothing wrong with being single andthere's plenty of teenagers who aren't in relationships in high school andthat's okay... maybe that's how Arthur should've started the season instead ofbecoming a cheater and leading on two girls at the same time just for the sakeof having unnecessary relationship drama which literally only created somepointless ship wars and put half of the fandom off watching the show... just saying.

Then, another things that rubbed me the wrong way werethe whole “canceling” discourse (that never really happened and I still standby what I said in the comments to this post so I’ll just direct you to it) and imposingthe one “right” interpretation on the fans - I specifically have the cheatingconvo from episode 8 in mind now. We all have a right to our owninterpretations of every scene, here many people saw it as Eliott’s commenthaving an effect on Lucas and his abandonment issues and started commenting onthat on twitter and David had to rush to explain that he hadn’t meant Lucas,that Eliott won’t cheat and that they won’t break up and will stay together.Well, the thing is that there’s such a concept as “the death of the author”which I suppose you can already guess from its name says that the author, theirbeliefs, backstory, opinions, etc. shouldn’t be taken into account wheninterpreting the text because writing (or in this case - a show) and creatorare separate entities and shouldn’t be correlated. First of all, thismetaphorical extinguishing of fire seemed pointless and like a mockery, seeinghow two episodes later it turned out people were right and Lucas really tookEliott’s comment personally and his insecurities and abandonment issues wereshowing up again; secondly, after that there were many comments from the crewabout how Elu will stay forever and never break up and maybe it’s just me but Ithink that was obvious, right? So why would they keep repeating that? Unless…something will happen in s6 that will make us doubt that and it’s a preemptive damagecontrol 🙃

So to sum up this monstrosity that I have no idea ifit even makes any sense BUT ANYWAY: I liked some of the things in s5 but overall Ireally really didn’t like it, some people in the fandom were incrediblyannoying and turned out to be fake and complete hypocrites, and the crew’s behaviour on socialmedia leaves a lot to be desired and I can only hope they will acknowledge anycriticism of s6 and won’t blatantly ignore fans’ criticism again. So that’d beit. If you read it till the end then you’re stronger than Sabrina giffingArthur getting hit by a car and I respect you for that cause even I haven’t reread it, have a nice quarantineand stay safe!

#skam france #skamfr #anon #answered #maggie talks

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ciarawritesmarvel · 5 years

Text

baker’s dozen - [bucky x reader]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: like it’s just fluff i don’t know what to tell you

A/N: I’m in such an autumnal mood and this is the result of that. As always, let me know what you think and I love you all v v much :)

masterlist in my bio and tags in the reblog! please drop me an ask to be added to any tag lists!

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September 1st - the first day of autumn. And incidentally, one of your favourite days of the year.

In the bakery, the swirling smell of pumpkin and cinnamon was thick in the air and there was a rising heat from the ovens that forced you to shrug off the oversized cardigan you’d worn to work this morning. There was definitely flour on your forehead, you could feel the niggling sensation, but there was so much flour and batter on your hands and forearms that any attempt to remove it would only make the problem worse. If you took a breath through your mouth, you could taste the rich dark chocolate.

You grinned, and took a deep breath through your mouth.

“Knock knock!” came an all too familiar voice, along with a knock on wood that really would’ve done the job without the verbalisation.

You grinned regardless and rushed over to the side door to let the voice in.

“Happy autumn!” you exclaimed happily upon sight, arms stretched wide in both a gesture and an invitation for a hug. Bucky laughed.

“Happy autumn yourself,” he said back, far more mellow as he moved inside and hugged you to his frame with one arm, the other carrying something that you had to step backwards to see.

“Is that-?”

“The finest hot chocolate in all the land? Why yes it is. Special drink for a special day,” he said, handing you the packet and you thanked him profusely, walking over to load it into the hot chocolate machine.

“You want one now?”

“I’ll make one for the both of us,” Bucky explained, heading over to the whiteboard and reading the schedule you’d written on there, with the times of everything in the oven so far and everything yet to be baked, “You’ve been busy already I see?”

There was a hint of worry in his tone, as there always was when he got to work on time and found that you’d been in for a few hours already. You waved him away, wiping your hands on the towel over your shoulder.

“I couldn’t sleep anyway, thought I’d come in and get a headstart. You know excited I get about today!”

“I do, doll,” he chuckled, grabbing his stripey apron from the peg, the peg that had his name written in glittery gel pen above it, upon your insistence. He made the hot chocolates in record time, threw in a few marshmallows and swirled an expertly crafted swirl of cream on top, “For the lady.”

He handed it to you with a flourish and you took it with a grateful thanks, taking an immediate sip and laughing as you felt yourself gain a cream moustache. Looking at Bucky and seeing he had the exact same one left the two of you in fits of giggles, until you winked at him and licked away the cream.

Bucky gulped.

A hop back over to the board and another glance at your schedule had him getting to work on the snickerdoodles that you had been about to start on.

You switched your attention to the maple cupcake frosting that had to be made for the current batch cooking away in the oven. Just as you were adding a splash of water to the mixture in one of your industrial sized bowls, you felt Bucky’s presence behind you and smiled as you turned to him.

“Can I help you?”

“That’s exactly what I was going to ask,” he grinned, holding up a cloth and your eyes narrowed suspiciously to which he simply rolled his eyes and said - “Hold still.”

He moved closer with a single step. Lifting the cloth to your forehead, he paused for long enough for you to stop him if you wanted to before he gently wiped away the flour on your head, with soothing circular strokes and eyes that sparked with concentration. Your gaze flittered downward and you briefly noticed his teeth grazing his bottom lip before you forced yourself back up to his eyes.

“There,” he said softly, almost sweetly and you smiled up at him only briefly before he’d gone and the warmth that came with him went too. Probably a good thing, you reminded yourself. This kitchen was already warm enough.

You continued with the frosting and Bucky resumed work on his snickerdoodles. A quick check of the clock told you there was an hour until opening time. You were only a little behind schedule.

“How quickly do you think we’ll sell out today?”

“I’m going for a record two hours,” Bucky replied, using a cookie cutter on his snickerdoodle mix.

“That would be amazing!” your voice betrayed your excitement, “I suppose it depends how quickly we can get through the queues.”

“We get quicker every year, Y/N,” he reminded you, “This is going to be our best September 1st yet, I just know it!”

You knew, somehow, that he had turned to you and so you glanced over your shoulder and grinned at his hopeful expression.

September 1st may not have been a big day in most calendars, but it was one of the biggest in yours. Every year, you and Bucky closed the bakery on August 28th, took one day off entirely and then set to work preparing for the new Autumn Opening. You removed all of the pastels, iced teas and fruity flavours from your menu and started fresh with warm spices, hot beverages and freshly baked snickerdoodles. It was a quick turnaround but one you loved nevertheless.

Autumn was the best time of year.

It meant coming into work in cozy jumpers, but no cumbersome coat, with a styrofoam cup warming chilly fingers. It meant reds, oranges and yellows came alive within the display counters. It meant cinnamon and chocolate lingering on your tongue throughout the day from that bit of batter you couldn’t help but try.

Just as you were getting into work mode and blocking out everything around you, even wistful thoughts of fall, music began playing from the radio in the corner and you didn’t need to look up from your work to know who was the culprit. The soft sounds of the 1940s did that for you.

“Music helps me work,” Bucky said by way of explanation and you shook your head fondly.

“I know. And you know that as long as it’s soft and slow, I’m all for it.”

Bucky made a show of twirling around to you and squeezing your shoulder before twirling off to his end of the kitchen. You didn’t look up at him, because you were concentrating, but also for fear of looking too fond or glancing too furtively, a fear that often plagued your mind as of late. The fear that any look in his direction might betray you, that any glance might let him know.

On the other hand, what with your hopeless obliviousness, Bucky was given free rein to glance with the reckless abandon of a man in love for the first time in a very long time.

The former Avenger had fallen in love with his new lifestyle almost as much as he had fallen in love with you. After a few years of being one of Earth’s mightiest heroes, Bucky realised he hadn’t given nearly enough time to being one of Earth’s actual citizens. So, with Steve’s hearty blessing and Tony’s gift of a modest apartment in the heart of Brooklyn, he set out on his own for the first time in his life and learned how to live a normal life.

It was about a month into this normal life that he met you.

He’d been walking along the street, an early morning walk he often took to get him out into the world, dreadfully hungry and too far from home to simply wait. A distinctly sweet smell came at just the right time and without much of a second thought he was entering the bakery and came face to face with...nobody. He took a longing glance at the array of cakes and biscuits on display then edged further into the shop, looking around for anyone who may be in charge.

All of a sudden, you popped up. Quite literally, as you appeared from behind the counter, pushed your hair back into place and put on your best smile, which ended up only looking 60% manic.

“Hello! Welcome to Baker’s Dozen! How can I help you?”

And somehow, Bucky couldn’t help himself.

“Are you okay?”

You blinked, the question completely taking you by surprise. You quickly collected yourself though, to your credit, and deflated before his very eyes.

“Well, no. I’m just having a bit of a breakdown-” you looked back down at the floor longingly as if you wished you could get back down to it and the thought crossed his mind that you might have been lying down on it, defeated. You quickly bounced back though and your customer service ready smile returned in a flash, “-but it’s nothing to worry about! Can I get you something?”

But Bucky was far too immersed now to go back. As he looking back on the memory now, he realises that even then his subconscious had noticed the kindness of your smile, however tired it was, and he could see the beauty of your past features in his minds’ eye. Though he would never have known it then, he knew now that he had been incredibly attracted to you, almost magnetically so, and it was that which drove him to push the conversation.

“You want to talk about it?”

“...Really?”

Bucky shrugged. Leant an elbow on the counter.

“I’ve got nowhere to be.”

You hesitated, wondering whether or not to confide in this total stranger of a customer, one that you’d never even seen in your bakery before, but whose eyes betrayed a person of trust, a person that seemed vaguely and pointedly familiar.

“It’s just that - well, my new hiring called this morning to say she no longer wanted the job, on the day she was supposed to start,” you laughed, hollow and empty, a laugh of someone who feels they have nothing left to laugh about but needs to laugh anyway, “So unless you know a keen amateur baker, I’m afraid there’s no point in talking about it.”

You sighed, raising a hand to your face and rubbing down it with a harsh touch.

And it didn’t take Bucky long from there to awkwardly offer up his services, for a peg to be cleared for his apron, for him to up to his elbows in cupcake batter in the back kitchen with a recipe by his side and you floating in and out from out front.

Nothing much had changed since then. And it had been three years.

You were still the main face at front of shop, with Bucky coming in and out with fresh batches and special smiles for regular customers used to seeing him around. One difference was that you now knew where you had recognised him from, of course, but none of his past was even a slight concern once you’d tasted his brandy snap recipe. You’d been joined at the hip since, an inseparable pair, an unstoppable team, a force to be reckoned with.

Having a former Avenger around only helped your business flourish, anyway.

You finished your final swirl of frosting with your piping bag and carried the tray out to the front of house, already seeing a small line of people outside the door fifteen minutes early. The mere sight made you grin and run back into the kitchen.

“There’s already people, Buck!” you nearly squealed, running over to him and jumping on his back, laughing at his little sound of indignation at the action. He quickly regained his bearings though, and spun on the spot until you fell from his back and back onto the floor, feet stumbling slightly and he held out a hand ready to steady you just in case.

“That’s great, Y/N,” he said sincerely, his smile radiating, “I think we’ll have a couple of high profile customers this morning too.”

He waggled his eyebrows and you hit him on the chest as you giggled. Bucky often called in a few of his Avenger friends on new season opening days, just to create a buzz and add to media attention. At first, you resented it, not wanting to use him for fame or anything of the like, but when you’d been assured that they actually loved what you two baked anyway, you didn’t mind so much anymore.

The renewed energy helped you to carry all the baked goods you’d made this morning and over the past days into the front area, arranging them neatly in cabinets and windows, exchanging waves and smiles with those you could see waiting in line through the glass out front. Bucky finally took his fresh snickerdoodles out of the oven just in time and brought them in, filling the room with the smell of sweet cinnamon and you helped him arrange them on a specific section you’d left empty especially.

“Finally finished,” you muttered happily, startling just a little at sudden arms encircling your waist from behind and a firm chest pressed against your back. Your breath hitched.

“You have no idea-“ a little content sigh in the middle of your sentence as you shuffled your head so it sat comfortably against his chest, “-how glad I am you asked me if was okay three years ago.”

“Well, I could hardly let you lying on the floor slip past me.”

“You could have. But you didn’t,” you replied happily, squeezing his forearms and turning around in his hold. You were far too close to him to be doing it, but the excitement of the moment and the tenderness held after tears of such close friendship made you throw caution to the wind as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, lingering more than you should, “Love you, Buck.”

He paused. You were already moving on, pulling away from his hold to go over to unlock the door, not wanting to acknowledge the moment for what it was and he decided to go along with that. He smiled fondly to himself. One day.

“Love you too, doll.”

The customers began flooding in and Bucky spotted Nat and Sam in the throngs of the crowd. He shot them a quick wave and a smile, turned to you to do the same then cracked on with the job at hand, contenting himself with his loving glances of reckless abandon for now.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky oneshot #bucky drabble #bucky fanfic #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #baker's dozen

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let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

Catch Me If You Can (25/40)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/n: Can I just say how much I appreciate you guys? I appreciate the reblogs, comments, likes, kudos, readers who simply read this story or any story, really. It’s honestly the most amazing thing that you guys are out here reading a boat load of words that I write and enjoying them and being so kind about them. Kindness goes a long way in life, my friends, and I appreciate you. ❤️

I also appreciate @resident-of-storybrooke for reading all of these words to keep me on track and @wellhellotragic for giving me the idea for this big turning point in the story...even if she doesn’t know that it’s happening 🙈

AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @stunningswan @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @superchocovian @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog@cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings

-/-

Not one to wake up quickly, Emma usually lets the day slowly come to her, even if that means listening to an alarm clock blaring for a few extra seconds…or minutes. Honestly, it’s always minutes, and there have been times when Ruby or Graham will come barging into her room to yell at her to turn her phone off. It’s only then she realizes that the awful sound is real and not a part of some weird, twisted dream where she has to actually wake up and go to work.

Dreadful.

This morning, though, there is no blaring alarm, only a sliver of bright sunlight peeking through closed curtains and the feel of rough scruff and soft lips moving down her bare back while calloused hands grip at her hips and the cool metal of Killian’s ring presses down on her heated skin.

It’s definitely a better way to wake up.

“Hmmm, g’morning,” she mumbles as she wraps her arms around her pillow a little more tightly and buries her face in the softness of it all. She’s awake, but she doesn’t have to move, especially when it feels so good to lay like this.

“Morning,” Killian whispers. He drags his nose along her spine down to the small of her back while his fingers inch over her skin and up her torso to rest at the sides of her breasts, pleasure flickering to life. “It’s very convenient that you went to bed without putting on any clothes last night.”

Flirty dork.

“And what exactly is this convenient for?”

Killian hums against her while he continues to leave slow, lingering kisses against all of the skin of her back while heat pools between her thighs and a smile curves on her lips that she has to hide in the pillow. She’d come over after work last night to eat dinner with him, ended up completely skipping the dinner when Killian tugged her into his bedroom the moment she got through the door, and the only time she’s even left this room was to get a bowl of cereal at two in the morning. If she also spent an hour reviewing her notes for today’s game, that’s no one’s business but hers.

Today’s game.

Oh shit. She’s commentating today and she doesn’t know what time it is and she needs to prepare and –

“Swan,” Killian breathes out, the air warm on her skin, “stop thinking about today.”

“How could you possibly know that I’m thinking about today?”

Killian chuckles, which she doesn’t appreciate, before brushing his lips over her side right under her breast. “Because – ” a kiss to her back “ – I can see that your entire body tightened up and –” a brush of his lips against the nape of her neck that has her seeing little black spots way before she should be seeing little black spots “ – because I know you so damn well and today is all you’ve been thinking of for eleven days now. And not for the Labor Day hot dog eating contest.”

And then there’s the feeling of chest hair brushing against her back and Killian’s hardened length against the back of her thigh while all of his body mass weighs down on top of her as his nose drags along her cheek until they’re eye-to-eye with Killian’s head resting beside her on the pillow.

He definitely didn’t have to lay down on her to look at her. That’s one hundred percent him being extra dramatic.

“Hi,” he smiles, and she groans a bit, both at the pleasantness of his weight and the fact that she was about two drags of his teeth away from being ready to ride him until neither of them could think any coherent thoughts. “You’re going to do great today. So great that all of those guys will be worried about the stability of their jobs.”

“So, you’re basically saying that I’m going to get people fired?”

Killian rolls his eyes and shifts on top of her so that the warmth of him moves to brush across her inner thigh, causing her eyes to shut and her breath to hitch.

Killian is still laughing at her.

That doesn’t diminish the feeling of how much she absolutely needs him right now.

“No, love, you’re not going to get someone fired today. You’re simply going to kick ass, and I’m going to be wearing an invisible pin that says that I’m an extremely proud boyfriend.”

“Invisible pin?” she questions, opening one eye to see a half smile stretched across Killian’s lips.

“Custom made and everything.”

“You are such a dork.”

“Aye, I know.” His lips brush against hers then, soft and slow, before he’s propping himself up on his elbows with a slight hiss that she chalks up to him still being stiff from sleeping. “Now, please, if you’d let me, milady, I believe I was working up to something before you so rudely interrupted me.”

“And what’s that?”

“A bloody fantastic way to relieve stress.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure it can be stressful on the joints and – ”

She doesn’t get to finish because Killian is grabbing onto her hips again and pulling her down on the mattress before flipping her over so that she’s on her back and he’s settled between her thighs, his hands gripping onto her calves as he pushes her legs further apart so that the cool air from his fan is hitting her skin. Knowing what’s coming causes gooseflesh to pop up on her skin and a simmering heat to cover it all, and it’s all amplified by the way that Killian’s eyes never leave hers, blue eyes under dark lashes, as he nibbles on the skin of her inner thigh.

Damn.

It’s ridiculous, this thing between them.

Love.

It’s called love.

Love that involves a hell of a lot of fears but also this burning passion that makes her thighs quiver at his touch and her heart thump at a million beats per minute when Killian smiles into the dip between her thighs before kissing her there with a long, slow, thorough caress that causes every bit of air in her lungs to flee for the hills.

Bless every woman before her for teaching him how to do this. That’s likely not the thought that she should be having right now, but it’s true.

And so damn good.

It shouldn’t be like this with them. He shouldn’t be able to make her feel the way that he does with so little effort, but he does just that every single time.

He’s taking his time, something she both loves and loathes right now with each flick of his tongue and tease of his teeth while her hands grip onto the bedsheets and her ankles hook around the back of his neck to pull him forward and further into her. Killian growls then, the vibrations working their way through her, and she bites back a groan so that all of Manhattan cannot hear her.

That would be quite the show.

“Come on, love,” Killian speaks into her skin before she feels the hard press of fingers curling inside of her. “Why don’t you let go for me?”

“Oh fuck.”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

He likes that joke too much.

The man winks at her and dives back into what he’s doing, his eyes never leaving hers so that she can’t look away from how captivating he is. But then his tongue is swirling around her bundle of nerves in quick flicks that have her eyes closing and her fists tightening against the sheets. Emma chases her fall by rolling her hips, urging Killian to keep going silently since all she can do right now is pant with the way that the coil in her belly is so tight that it’s going to burst at any minute now.

And then it does with a curl of Killian’s fingers and a swirl of his tongue while she moans in pleasure and lets heat simmer over her all the while Killian keeps working at her and keeps prolonging her pleasure that she is never quite able to catch her breath.

Damn.

“That was – ”

“I know,” Killian says with a cocky grin on his face, peppering kisses above her hipbone and up her stomach until he’s resting his chin between her breasts with a genuine smile on his face now that has the butterflies in her stomach fluttering around like crazy.

Emma moves her hand from the sheets to Killian’s hair, pushing it back out of his forehead so that it’s not falling in a million different directions like it always does when he’s just woken up in the morning. She kind of loves that she knows that.

“I love you,” she whispers, the words so gentle and precious that she doesn’t even want the air to hear them. And maybe it can’t over how loudly her heart is still beating, a staccato in her chest.

Killian blinks up at her before twisting his head to the side and laying a kiss to the freckle on her breast. “And I you. More than anything.”

There are those words again, all of the ones that make her feel like she’s something special to him, that she’s someone he’ll always want no matter what, and a sob gets caught in her throat at just the thought of all of that. It’s both the pressure of having someone love her, something no one ever talks about, and the pleasure of knowing that the goofy half smile on his face is because of her.

This man is happy simply to be around her.

And she him.

She urges him to move up her body then, to press his lips against the dip of her collarbone and go from soft to hard as he slides into her, heavy and thick and everything that she could possibly crave. There’s a last-minute protest from her lips about him overexerting himself before a game, something they have to be careful about, but he promises that he’s just fine like this.

Sparks move across her skin, probably against Killian’s skin too, and even though he’s most definitely doing most of the work this morning – likely in some gentlemanly attempt to make her forget just how nervous she is – sweat is still beading at her forehead and the small of her back as their hips thrust together to create a friction that is marvelous.

“Emma,” he grits out at the same time that he thrusts deep inside of her to hit that spot. “You are bloody brilliant. And glorious. And you are going to kick ass today, okay?”

She taps his ass with her foot in response, unable to actually form words to speak back with how strung out she is on him right now, and Killian laughs into her neck while her nails dig into the skin on his back, likely leaving marks that might as well be tattoos at this point.

Killian is so completely filling her as he moves above her, his entire body pressing against her and weighing down on her, and there’s nothing she can do but hold on tightly and try to savor the way that it feels to be connected to him both physically and emotionally. His support for her is unlike anything else she’s ever experienced, is actually the complete opposite of her past, and tears sting in her eyes at the thought of it.

She comes with a moan that Killian captures with his mouth, kissing her and devouring her all the while his thrusts get a little bit quicker so that she can tell he’s close too. She tries to press up and roll her hips to help him find the finish line, but he’s already found it and is falling apart with curses and declarations of love that make her head spin.

When they’re finished, Killian falls off of her and onto the mattress, quickly pulling the blanket back over them and pulling her into his side so that she can rest her cheek in its place against his shoulder and tuck her feet in between his calves all the while Killian traces indistinguishable patterns into his back and she plays with the chain around his neck, moving it up and down over the dark patches of chest hair that cover his chest and his stomach.

“You were right,” she whispers before brushing her lips over a freckle on his shoulder.

“Hmmm? About what?”

“That making me forget.”

“Ah, well,” he teases, his voice dark and low and still the slightest bit gritty, “I have heard that my prowess in the bedroom can make a woman lose any string of coherent thoughts.”

“You are ridiculous,” Emma groans, burying her face further into his shoulder and telling herself that she can get up to clean up later. It’ll be okay for a couple of minutes.

Killian’s fingers tap against her back, her skin still electrified by his touch, but then he’s rolling over so that they’re no longer touching and a whine of protest is escaping her lips.

“I know, I know,” Killian sighs before pressing a kiss to her forehead and getting up from the bed so that she has a spectacular view of his ass. Thank goodness for baseball workouts. “But I’ve got to go to practice long before you have to be at the stadium, and I’m afraid that I need a shower.”

“Can’t it wait?”

Killian twists to look at her, crinkles around his eyes, and he bends down to press his mouth against hers in a slow kiss that only ends when Killian grunts and moves his shoulder.

“You okay?” Emma questions. She sits up in the bed then, pulling the sheets over her because the ceiling fan is chilling her skin, and watches as Killian rotates his arm and grits his teeth so that his jaw clenches. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He smiles at her then, all traces of pain seemingly gone. “I think I simply need a massage from Archie. Might have overdone it a bit by dragging you in here last night and not really letting you go.”

She’s not entirely sure that she believes him, but then he’s reaching his hand forward and holding it out for her. “What?” she questions, taking it.

Killian waggles his eyebrows. “I want you to join me in the shower, love.”

“Shower sex is overrated. You know that. And I don’t think I’ll be able to walk. Seriously. I’m already sore.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Swan,” Killian sighs, pulling her up with one tug of his arm so that she’s toppling off the bed and onto the floor. “We’re simply going in there to shower. Nothing more.”

He keeps to his word that they’re simply going to shower, and luckily Killian’s shower is big enough that they can go about their business without annoying the other or getting in the way. That’s pretty much impossible at her place, but here she uses the little seat inside to run her razor over her legs while the conditioner soaks into her hair. Killian leaves when she’s still working on shaving her left leg, and when she’s finished and wrapped up in his robe with her hair in a towel, she finds him already dressed for pre-game workouts in the kitchen mixing up what she knows is one of his protein shakes from the weird green color of it.

“Any of that for me?” she jokes since she will not go near the stuff. It’s disgusting.

“I’ve got those smoothies you like in the fridge.”

“Bless you.” She gets up and walks around the counter to open his fridge and grab the pre-made mango smoothie, shaking it up a bit only to have Killian place his hands on her hips and tug her closer to him. “What?”

“I do have something else for you, though, Swan.”

“Is that some kind of weird innuendo?”

“No,” Killian chuckles before releasing her hips so that he can reach behind his neck and pull the silver chain off of his neck, his mom’s ring glinting in the sunlight, and Emma loses all of her sensibilities – and her breath – when he places it around her neck. “I want you to have this.”

“Killian,” she starts, emotion in her throat and protests on her lips before he interrupts her.

“No, Emma, just listen to me, okay?” He looks so serious, so all she can do is nod her head yes. “I know athletes are all known for their weird superstitions, okay? It’s simply a thing, and I’ve never really thought that I had one until I realized that wearing my mom’s ring around my neck was kind of one of those superstitions. It’s brought me luck, but more importantly it’s always brought me calm and peace hoping that she’s smiling down on me and cheering me on. You have a really big day today, one that you’ve been dreaming about, and I want you to have it to remind yourself that people are cheering you on. I’m cheering you on.”

Like always, his words far outshine any that she could possibly have, so Emma presses forward and wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his stubbled jaw in thanks before staying there and simply feeling the warmth of him all over her as she breathes him in.

This is…she is not supposed to have nice things like this. This is not how things work for people like her.

And yet here she is.

“Kick ass today, twenty-nine.”

“Kick ass today, my love.”

-/-

Killian leaves his apartment two hours before she does, and by the time she gets to the stadium to make her way to the booth where she’s working today, all of her nerves that Killian made disappear have returned in full force so that she can’t stop fidgeting with her fingers or the ring that’s resting underneath her shirt.

She still can’t believe that he did that.

Her heart is still stuttering.

But the nerves aren’t exactly solved by having this good luck charm around her neck no matter how damn romantic it is.

The fact that on her way to the booth three different people stopped her and called her “that chick who Jones asked out” hasn’t exactly helped things. She’s never going to live that down. It might as well be inked on her forehead and be flashing in neon lights. Killian learned from his mistakes that day. If only everyone else could.

Now, though, Ruby is attaching Emma’s headpiece to her ears and stuffing her mic pack in the back of her skirt so that she will be able to sit down without things messing up. Ruby isn’t her producer today, not when she’s working with an entirely different team, but Emma is thankful that she’s here with her now.

“Be yourself, Ems,” Ruby sighs, adjusting her mic one more time. “It’s the same thing you do every other day, but you’re covering the entire game with two other people.”

“So, a different thing than I do every day.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to freak you out any more than you are already freaked out.”

“You’re a very good friend.”

“I try,” Ruby sighs, slapping Emma’s ass before sticking her tongue out and walking away. “You’re going to kick ass.”

If enough people say that phrase, it’s sure to come true.

Right?

Isaac and James are already sitting in their seats, the chair in between them empty, and she takes it, turning to look at the both of them to strike up a conversation only for them to both turn away and focus on the small booklet of notes in front of them.

Okay, so that’s how it’s going to be then. She shouldn’t have expected anything different when she found out she’d be working with Isaac Heller and James Prince, two men who are always looking down at her whenever she has to work with them. It’s fine. It’s all fine. This isn’t about them. This is about her and her job and she can do a damn good job at it.

David: You’re going to kill it today, kid.

Elsa: We’re all wishing you luck today, sweet girl.

Emma smiles down at her phone and moves to type a message back to David and Elsa only for Isaac to cough and make her turn to the side. “I know you’re new here, but you can’t use your phone, even when we’re off camera. Only between innings of if you need to look something up.”

“Oh,” she startles, having to push down her annoyance at the condescending tone of his voice. “Okay, sorry.”

“Yeah. Don’t screw up. It’s a small game, but everyone is at home watching because it’s a holiday.”

Such a nice, helpful man.

The three of them are coached through the order of the game, of the introduction while players are warming up, and while she knows that it’s something that happens every game, Emma can tell that all of this is mainly for her. She’s already read through her instructions, had approximately seventeen different meetings for this and one-hundred-and-twenty-two emails, and she knows what’s going to happen. She’s not an idiot even if she’s being treated like one today.

It doesn’t matter.

None of that matters.

This is what she wants, and she’s going to kick ass.

She, Isaac, and James introduce themselves to the camera, the annoyed look on the two men’s faces disappearing the moment that the camera light is turned on, and Emma has to fight back the urge to roll her eyes, especially when James and Isaac start a rapport of introducing her by saying you may recognize her from her moment of viral fame when Killian asked her out and she has to interrupt them to remind everyone that she is literally on camera every week since she is the on-field reporter for the team.

Fuck these men and their apparent need to forget that she is competent at her job even if this is technically her first day doing this.

But she forces the smile on her face and goes along with the banter before turning to the stat sheets and talking about the impeccable season that the Yankees are having so far and moving on to talking about Killian as he steps up to the mound, which Isaac and James are more than happy to let her do since she is “such an expert on Killian Jones.”

They don’t even know.

And she will continue to ignore these little jabs. The sexism never really ends.

They go through the fact that yesterday was a complete shut out not in favor of the Yankees, but the insane winning record that they have this season, it doesn’t honestly matter. Then at least five minutes is spent going back and forth over whether or not they will be able to somehow back up last year’s World Series win by doing it again. Emma’s always kind of despised the speculation that comes with sports, but this is how it goes.

(And she’s had the same thoughts.)

Which is fine since soon they switch to actually talking about Killian’s statistics for the season, how he’s been a bit up and down but how over the past month or so his average speed has gone down several miles per hour and he’s allowing more hits than usual. Logically, Emma knew this. She’d noticed it while keeping her own stats for her interviews and segments, but she never thought anything of it.

Not at all.

But now, running through these statistics and facts and every minute detail possible has her noticing the way that Killian isn’t hitting his spots like he’s supposed to and is throwing more balls than strikes and is a bit slower between his wind-ups than he usually is.

What is happening?

It’s not a question she can focus on, especially when the Rangers have a guy on second and third and Killian somehow manages to get three strikes and the third out so that the top of the first is over and things are moving on as normal.

Or, really, better than normal.

Eric hits a home-run, his thirty-seventh of the season which is a record high for him, and it brings both Will and Arthur in to give them a three-run lead already.

Today is already going better than yesterday.

And as time goes on, no matter how inwardly uncomfortable Emma feels with the men she’s working with, outwardly, she becomes entirely comfortable, knowing when to interject and when to stay quiet. It’s definitely not a match made in heaven for the three of them, which doesn’t really bode well for her future, but that’s not something she focuses on as the game wears on so that they’re now in the top of the fourth inning.

That’s when it happens.

One moment Emma is looking down at her notes while messing with the ring on her neck, twirling it around her finger, and the next she’s looking through the booth’s window to see Killian hunched over with his left hand gripping onto his right shoulder as his hat covers his face so that she can’t see anything. The hair on her arms stands on edge, her heart starts beating at a pace quicker than it was this morning, and bile rises up in her throat when she watches Will drops his glove and run from behind home plate to the mound so that he’s talking to Killian.

“What’s happening?”

Emma thinks the words come from her mouth, that she’s voicing the question that’s running through her mind, but it’s not from her. It’s from James.

“I think he’s hurt,” Isaac answers, and she knows that she doesn’t imagine the fact that his voice is smug.

Hurt.

No.

Killian can’t be hurt. He can’t be. And if he is, it’s something minor. Of course it’s something minor. There’s no need for her to be freaking out or for heat to be rising to her cheeks while that bile keeps coming back.

This is no big deal. It can’t be.

She also can’t let anyone know that she’s about to throw up because something is wrong with her boyfriend, and she can’t…there’s nothing she can do about it.

There’s a commotion down on the field as Will and Al walk Killian down to the dugout and there’s a brief pause in play while Roseman warms up before replacing him, and even though Emma asks their producer if they can find out what exactly just happened with Killian, she’s left sitting in the dark clutching onto his ring as the game goes on like there’s been absolutely no change.

But there has been one.

And she needs to know more about it.

But she can’t, and every time she moves to get her phone so that she can text Ariel or Liam or Elsa or anyone, they’re back live on air, and she’s having to force a smile on her face and continue to do her job like the abrupt change in pitchers isn’t a big deal to her.

It’s a huge fucking deal.

It’s also the bottom of the ninth inning now, two outs and two strikes on the board to signify the very near ending of the game, and an hour and fifty-seven minutes have passed since Killian left the field. She thinks she’s finally about to get to run out of this room and use her press credentials to get into the locker room when the door to their booth opens behind them so that their producer is sticking his head inside.

“Hey,” he starts at the same time that the word strike is spoken through her headset and the stadium erupts in cheers, “before you go off air, let everyone know that Killian Jones has been taken to the hospital.”

And nothing else can be heard over the thumping of her heart and the sound of Frank Sinatra’s voice crooning “New York, New York” playing over the speakers like at the end of every single game.

Start spreading the news, I’m leaving today.

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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literallyprentissstwin · 4 years

Text

𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. - 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸

request: yes I no

characters: Sonny Carisi x Y/N Y/L/N

others: Lieutenant Olivia Benson, Detective Fin Tutuola, Detective Amanda Rollins, ADA Rafael Barba, mention of Peter Turner (the suspect), Dr. Langford as well as some nurses

category: angst, hurt/comfort, crime

warnings: talk of kidnapping, mention of torture, violence and rape, slight mention of PTSD

previous parts: part 1

A/N: thank you all so so much for the amazing feedback to the first part of this story <3 it literally means the world. i´m having a good time finally being back writing and your feedback is more than welcome. i decided to make this story a three parter since part 2 would otherwise have been too long. so i hope you´ll stick with me and this story till the end. this is my first ever SVU fic and i´m really happy with it so far. again, feedback is very appreciated. don´t forget that english isn´t my native language, so please be kind. i do make a lot of grammar or spelling mistakes and it´s okay to point them out :) now, enjoy reading part 2!

if you wanna be tagged in my upcoming SVU fics, let me know <3

It felt like the world around Sonny Carisi was moving in slow motion.

Ever since he and Amanda had found Y/N in that dark, cold, hell hole, the world around him stopped turning for a while. Things started to slow down and time seemed to pass painfully slow.

It felt like an eternity until the squad had finally arrived at the hospital.

And here they were, patientily waiting in that small, overcrowded waiting room. They´ve already been her for two hours; Barba had joined the group ten minutes after they arrived at the hospital. An uncomfortable silence and tension lingered in the air. Sonny, as usual, was pacing around the room, while Fin and Amanda sat next to eachother and watched their friend, knowing that there was no way that they could get him to calm down. Barba and Liv were standing at the door of the waiting room, trying to have a quiet conversation, while also eyeing their nervous friend.

The more time passed, the more people were leaving the waiting room. Sonny started to to become impatient. He stopped pacing for a minute before he started to speak.

“What is taking them so long?”

“I´m sure they´ll gonna be out here soon.”, Liv tried to reassure her detective, which wasn´t working.

“Nobody tells us anything. We´ve been here for almost five hours and yet, we still haven´t seen a doctor or a nurse who could update us.”, Sonny said, growing more and more frustrated.

“They are all doing their jobs, Carisi. Them not coming out and updating us doesn´t have to mean a thing. So let´s just calm down and take a seat. Your pacing is driving me crazy and it doesn´t help you or Y/N.”, Barba reasoned with the man. Sonny tried one last attempt to talk back to him, but decided against it, when he saw the ADA giving him his famous glare. Letting out a long sigh, the detective sat down next to Amanda, who put a comforting had on his shoulder. He just hoped and prayed that Barba was right and that everything would be alright.

It took another three hours until the long wait was finally over.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”, a doctor asked, as he entered the waiting room.

“Yes, that´s us. How is she?”, Carisi immediately wanted to know as he and the rest of the squad stood up from their seats and gathered around the young, lanky doctor.

“I´m Dr. Langford, I performed the surgery as well as the examination on Detective Y/L/N.”, he introduced himself before Olivia began to speak up.

“I´m Lieutenant Benson, Detective Y/L/N´s boss. How is she?”

“So far, her condition is still not where we want it to be, but as for right now, she´s stable. She suffered a concussion and she had at least five broken rips which had caused an internal bleeding which we were able to stop in time. Moreover, she has a sprained ankle and wrist as well as lots of bruising all over her body. Also, she´s been very dehydrated and malnourished.”, Dr. Langford started to explain.

“D-Did you find any signs for a sexual assault?”, Amanda dared to ask altough she already knew the answer to this.

“We did find signs for a sexual assault, yes. There´s a lot of bruising on her upper inner thighs as well as other indications for a forceful entry. We already did a rape-kit since Detective Y/L/N consented to it.”

“Apart from the physical damage, how is her psychological condition, Doctor?”, Barba wanted to know.

“Well, to put it out bluntly, she´s a mess. She´s very jumpy and flinches at every touch or every noise she registers. We needed to sedate her to actually examine her. Up until now, she hasn´t really spoken yet; she´s still in shock and seems to try to stay distant. I would recommend for her to see a shrink as soon as she´s well enough for it. She´s severely traumatized and it will take a lot of time for her to heal and to deal with everything that happened to her.”, the young doctor explained, giving the squad a sympathetic look.

“C-Can we see her?”, Sonny asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his face all pale and emotionless.

“Detective Y/L/N is still under strong medications and out for most of the time. We don´t want to put her under immense stress, but we also think that seeing familiar faces might help her cope with everything better. So yes, you can see her, but I would recommend only one to two persons at a time.”, Dr. Langford said before his beeper started to ring, “if you´ll excuse me now. Nurse Monica, could you show those detectives the room of Detective Y/L/N?”

The nurse nodded before she joined the group.

“Thank you, Dr. Langford.”, Fin said.

“It´s my job, detectives. If there´s still anything you need, don´t hesitate to reach out to me.”, and with this, the man disappeared.

“I think Carisi should go see her first.”, Amanda suddenly suggested to the group.

“Yeah, Carisi. Go and check on our girl.”, Fin agreed and patted the detective on his shoulder.

“You´re sure?”, Sonny asked, looking ath his friends.

“Go, Carisi. We´ll be waiting here.”, Liv said, carefully pushing the man towards the door of the waiting room.

“Okay...thanks guys.”, Sonny quickly told them, before he followed the nurse to Y/N´s room.

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

The first thing Sonny was confronted with when opening the door to Y/N´s room was silence.

Silence and the beeping of a maschine that helped Y/N with her breathing.

As he opened the door further, he finally saw her.

Unconsciously laying in her bed, almost as pale as the bed itself. She seemed so calm, yet so vulnerable.

Carisi saw all the bruises and bandages and his for once calm demeanour grew angry again.

How could someone hurt another human being so much? The detective could´nt wrap his head around it.

Carefully, he walked closer to the bed, grabbing a chair while doing so and taking a seat right next to her. Equally careful he grabbed her hand and held it in his own. He was so scared to hurt her even more, so all he did was holding this hand and he would not let go of it. Never.

“I-I´m so so sorry, Y/N. This is all my fault. I should have never let you walk home alone.”, he began to talk to her, the tears he had been holding in for so long finally starting to fall.

“I-I-I..I just hope you´ll be able to forgive me.”, he continued, “please...please wake up.”

A moment of silence fell between the couple, but not for long before Carisi decided to continue rambling.

“God, Y/N. I´m a mess. I mean what am I gonna do without you if you don´t come out of this okay? I can´t live without you. Please. I´m really sorry...”

“C-Can you please stop saying that?!”, a voice suddenly said and it took Carisi a minute to realise that this voice belonged to Y/N.

“Oh my god..Y/N. Can you hear me?”, he said, quickly moving closer to the bed.

“E-Every single word you said.”, Y/N hissed, finally opening her eyes, but immediately closing them again due to the light being too bright. Slowly, she tried to open them once again, blinking a few times to adjust them to the brightness of the light. Sonny scooted even closer to the bed, carefully squeezing Y/N´s hand, smiling in relief when he saw Y/N´s beautiful eyes wide open.

“Hey...”, he whispered, the smile never leaving his face.

“Hi..”, Y/N said back, a small smile tucking at her lips as well.

“How are you feeling?”

“Been better, but I´ll survive. How are you holding up?”

Sonny laughed. “You´re the one laying in that hospital bed and you´re seriously asking me how I am?”

“Well...yeah..”, the woman said.

“You´re unbelieveable, Y/N.”, Carisi still laughed, “but to answer your question: I´m better now that you´re awake.”

“Good.”, Y/N smiled, “I´m sorry.”

“Oh, Y/N, no. There´s nothing you need to be sorry for, you hear me? It wasn´t your fault.”, Carisi tried to reassure his partner, as he carefully sat down on the bed.

“Neither has this been your fault, Sonny.”, Y/N replied, looking the detective straight in the eyes at which he sighed, “thank you..for saving me.”

“That´s what friends are for.”, Sonny said and smiled at Y/N.

Another uncomfortable silence spread between the two detectives. There was still so much Sonny wanted to tell Y/N, but yet, he found himself unable to put his thoughts into words. Also, the hospital wasn´t quite the ideal place to confess your love to someone, no. This needed to wait. Sonny´s first and most important priority was to make sure Y/N was okay and safe.

For now, that´s all that matters.

“Where´s the rest of the squad?”, Y/N wanted to know, pulling Carisi away from his thoughts, breaking the unbearable tension between the two of them.

“They are all outside, waiting to see you. Even Barba is here.”, Sonny explained.

“Wow, I´m starting to feel kind of special now.”, Y/N laughed, but immediately winced at the pain shooting through her body.

“Woooah, you okay?”, Carisi asked.

“Ugh, yeah. Just peachy. I just forgot for a second why I´m actually in this hospital bed.”, Y/N answered through gritted teeth.

“I´m gonna get the doctor.”, Sonny said, immediately making his way over to the door.

“Carisi, no, I´m fine.”

“You´re far from being fine. Please, let me help you just this one time.”, the man begged.

Y/N sighed. “Fine, but only this one time and only because this pain is killing me.”, and with that, Carisi rushed outside to get a doctor to look after Y/N.

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

15 minutes later, the doctor was still in Y/N´s room checking her out, while the squad was, again, waiting in front of her door. Before Carisi could open his mouth to start argueing again, Dr. Langford exited the room.

“Doctor? Is everything alright?”, Fin wanted to know.

“Yes, Y/N is doing pretty good right now, all things considered. She´s in a stable condition. We gave her a mild pain medication considering the fact that you might want to get her statement later in the day. Her now healing ribs are causing her a lot of pain right now, but otherwise, she´s okay, physicall.”, the doctor explained, “she actually asked me to send in all of you. I know, I said one to two persons at a time, but she seems well enough to meet you all right now.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”, Liv said before all of them entered the room.

“Hey...”, Y/N whispered as she saw her whole team plus Barba come into the room.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you.”, Amanda said as she carefully came towards Y/N and tried to hug her as careful as possible, checking if this action was okay with her. Since she didn´t flinch away from her, Amanda took this as a sign to actually hug her friend.

“It´s so good to see you too.”, Y/N smiled, turning her gaze towards Rafael, “to what do I owe the honor of you being her as well?”, she joked.

“There´s no place I would rather be right now, Y/L/N. I´m glad you´re still with us.”, Barba replied truthfully.

“Me too, Counselor, me too.”

“How are you doing?”, Liv asked from her place at the foot of Y/N´s bed.

“I´m okay. The pain killers make the pain kind of bearable. But I´ll live.”, Y/N answered.

“Good, because the squadroom would have been pretty quiet without your rambling.”, Fin joked.

This went on for another 10 minutes. Everyone was happy to see Y/N alive and okay, they all just wanted to distract her from what happened to her, but they all knew that eventually, she had to talk about it and much to Liv´s dismay, she had to be the one to break the bad news.

“You know, Y/N, I hate that I have to do this, but in order to prosecute Turner correctly..”, Liv started to talk.

“...you need to know that happened, I know. I-I just didn´t think it would be that soon.”, Y/N finished Liv´s sentence, kind of getting anxious.

“I´m sorry, I really am.”

Amanda and Fin immediately got up to leave the room, while Carisi hesitated to do so.

“Sonny, it´s okay. You can go.”, Y/N tried to reassure her best friend to leave the room, although everything inside her screamed at her to tell him to stay. But was she really ready to let him hear the truth of what had happened to her?

“Are you sure?”, Sonny asked.

“Yes, it´s okay...really.”, Y/N reassured the man and gave him a weak smile, which he returned before he left the room as well. Y/N sighed.

“Okay, so where do you want me to start?”, Y/N wanted to know.

“Right at the beginning. Tell us about the night he got you.”, Barba answered.

“Well...Liv had told us to go home and get some rest since we´ve been trying to catch Turner for days now and we hadn´t really had time to rest. Carisi....I should have listened to him, he has been so concerned. He always talked about how it was unusual for Turner to go MIA and not kill within two days. He said that he thinks that Turner might have something planned. He was worried about me, because I fit the victimology perfectly, but I didn´t think any of it. He wanted to walk me home that night, but I´ve told him that I appreciate his concern, but that I could take care of myself. I reassure him that I would text him as soon as I got home...”, Y/N started to explain.

“But that text never got to him, right?”, Liv asked.

“Um, no. I didn´t even make it into my apartment. He must have followed me all the way from the precinct to my apartment complex. Turner got to me right before I could open the door to my apartment.”

“What happened next?”, the ADA wanted to know. Y/N started to get more anxious at this question.

“I woke up in that basement. He took my bag, my phone, my gun, my badge. He took everything away from me. The first time I saw him for real in front of me was when he first started the live stream for you guys. Right after that..he..he r-raped me for the first time. I-I tried to push him off of me, but he was just way too strong. So I just lay there and let him do this to me.”

“Hey, listen to me. You had to do whatever it took to survive this, okay? What happened to you was not your fault.”, Olivia tried to reassure her detective, carefully placing her hand on Y/N´s, at which the young woman flinched.

“Yeah..anyway..from there on, everything just passed by in a blur. He came to bring me food once a day, but I never ate it. This was when he started to get more violent. He thought I was ungrateful and a shame for my family and the NYPD. He took all his anger out on me. I didn´t even dare to fight back, I was just so freaking scared. I-I´m such a coward. How am I a detective for the NYPD who faces the filthiest of scumbags every day and yet, I can´t manage to fight back and protect myself.”, Y/N said, starting to get herself worked up.

“I think we should take a break right here.”, Barba suggested, sensing Y/N´s discomfort.

“I-I should have just listened to Sonny. For once in my life, I should have just admitted that I was wrong, but no. I refused to believe the people who cared about me and instead I put them through hell and back.”, Y/N continued rambling, getting even more worked up, so that her heart rate on the monitor started to speed up.

“Y/N, listen to me. This wasn´t your fault, okay? Please, you really need to calm down or otherwise, you´ll just hurt yourself.”, Liv tried to reason with her, but it seemed like her words didn´t get through to her.

Y/N had a flashback; she was back in that hell hole. Her heart rate continued to speed up. Liv stepped closer to the bed, carefully trying to put her hand on Y/N´s shoulder. Y/N flinched at the contact.

“NO. GET AWAY FROM ME.”, and with that, Dr. Langford and a few nurses came rushing into her room.

“You need to leave, NOW.”, the doctor yelled while a nurse pushed Liv and Barba out of the room before closing the door. Everything went silent.

Turner had been right. This was far from being over.

SVU tag list:

@lclb13 @playbucky @thefifthmaraud3r @misssirenlove @smolpersonbigworld @illegalcerebral @ultrarebelheart @briannareneea985 @imaginecrushes

#law and order svu #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order svu reader insert #law and order fanfics #sonny carisi #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi fanfiction #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi reader insert #sonny carisi fanfics

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illfoandillfie · 5 years

Text

Future Management

Pairing: Roger x Reader

Summery: Roger rewires your mind

Warnings: Smut!, Bimbofication/intelligence play, Hypnosis/trance state, drinking, tickling, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex (yes you read that correctly there’s actually a condom in this one wtf), mentions of spanking/restraints/blindfolds/degradation/public sex but not explicitly, a bit of dom!rog sub!reader, thigh riding.

Words: 6969 (N I C E !!)

Inspired by: Future Management by Roger Taylor (oh my god that video im hhhhHHHhh this song really makes me feel some kinda way)

A/N: So Bimbofication has a bunch of different connotations for different people. For some the emphasis is on the physical shape of a stereotypical bimbo – think big boobs and blonde hair and a valley girl accent - which can lead into body modification stuff. For some it goes hand in hand with hypnosis and mind control. For some it’s about intelligence play - turning a smart person dumb. There are a bunch of different ways to play with this kink and different things to get out of it, especially when you start mixing the different aspects together or connecting it to a dom/sub dynamic. I’ve gone with an interpretation that aligns with what I personally find hot about bimbofication, mostly focusing on the turning a smart girl into a dumb slut/sex object aspect (though I’ve also included a little hint of the physical appearance) using some light hypnosis stuff as gateway to the “bimbo state”. I am by no means an expert in hypnosis (or anything), I just have a passing interest and think it’s kinda hot. A lot of the hypnosis part of the script was inspired by THIS podcast episode which discusses bimbofication/intelligence play and ends with one of the hosts hypnotising the other to make her dumber (it’s a really interesting discussion and FUCK that hypno scene at the end oof its hot).

Also big thanks to @somekindof-cheese @idontbelievethiss and @dtftomholland for being my betas and giving me some great feedback!!

Taglist: @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama (i hope none of you mind being tagged in this, couldn’t remember if you’d asked to be tagged in all my fics or just the RRL ones lmao, let me know if you wanna be removed from the list!)

To the world at large you are a well-respected, intelligent, and accomplished woman. You graduated university top of your class and head of multiple extracurricular groups. After uni you’d found a job that you loved, working in a law firm, gaining attention as you rose through the ranks and became a prominent attorney. Two years ago you’d thrown it all in to start your own non-profit organisation that aimed to reduce the growing rate of homelessness. It was challenging work but rewarding and you loved it. You’d appeared as a guest on news panels and talk radio programs to discuss the issue and campaign for support which had made you, if not a household name, certainly a recognisable figure in the community. Which is how Roger knew you when you first met. Of course, you’d known him too – how could you not?

You’d run into him at bar, most of your friends having ditched you for the dancefloor or whoever they were hoping to take home. That wasn’t really your scene though so you’d intended to finish your drink and then head home. Before you could leave, he was in front of you, introducing himself and apologising for the interruption. “I wanted to congratulate you on your work, what you’re doing is incredible,” he said earnestly, “the world needs more women like you. More people like you.” “Thank you, that’s very kind of you to say,” “I’ll leave you to your drink now, have a good evening,” “Wait,” you said, surprising yourself, “this seat’s free if you want to join me,”

That introduction sparked a conversation which lasted hours. For the rest of the night you were wrapped up in each other entirely, the flow of conversation never stopping as you covered every topic under the sun – politics and music and food and literature and everything in between – without any awkward pauses or uncomfortable silences. You found yourself hanging on his every word, blown away by his quick wit and intelligence, and that cheekiness that permeated his very being. He kept both your glasses topped up as you talked, well beyond the point where all your friends had left, until eventually he invited you back to his place. You hesitated, the first hitch in your conversation all night. “You okay?” Roger asked after you were silent for a little too long. “Yeah. I just, don’t...know...” “Don’t know if you want to come home with me?” “Yeah.” You nervously chewed on your bottom lip. “That’s okay, you don’t have to. Just figured, we’re having such an amazing night, why should it end now?” he said with a slight shrug, “It does kinda surprise me that you’re unsure about it though.” “What d’you mean by that?” “Nothing bad I promise.” he chuckled, “Just that you’re so sure about everything else. Don’t really seem like the type to not know your own mind.” You exhaled a single breathy ‘ha’, “About everything else you are correct. Not so much with this sort of thing.” “Well, at least let me drop you home.” “That would be nice, thank you.” “You’re welcome.” He stood to call a car since neither of you were in any state to drive, “The offer still stands by the way, if you do decide you want to. You’ve got nothing to lose.” You laughed as he threw you a wink but his words stuck with you, looping through your head as you waited for him to return.

Roger led you out into the street to wait for the car, placing his jacket over your shoulders when he noticed you shiver slightly. He leaned against the brick wall of the bar as you chatted in soft voices until the car arrived. Once you were both tucked away in the back seat, safely hidden from prying eyes and cameras, Roger leaned towards you. His hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb sliding softly over your cheek. Your eyes darted to his lips and then back up to his eyes. “At the risk of ruining an otherwise great night, I’d really like to kiss you.” You nodded, the closeness of your bodies already releasing a colony of butterflies in your stomach, their fluttering only getting faster as he moved closer still. His lips were softer than you’d been expecting, his hands rougher as the one remained on your face and the other rested gently against your arm, though you should probably have realised so many years of drumming would leave their mark. You rested your hands against his shoulders, gradually slipping one up into his hair as he deepened the kiss. Well, shit, if this is how he kisses... You blinked your eyes open as he broke away from you. No one had ever kissed you like that before and there was only one thought running through your head. Roger’s voice. You’ve got nothing to lose. “Take me home with you,” you said softly but decidedly, throwing caution to the wind. Roger grinned and indicated the change of plans to the driver before pulling you into another kiss.

Neither of you even contemplated stopping the whole way to his house, only breaking apart briefly to fall out of the car and hastily climb the steps up to his front door. Even then, his hands remained on you – lightly tracing over the small patch of exposed skin on your back where your shirt had come untucked from your pants. Clutching Roger’s arm, you leaned in to kiss along his neck as he fumbled with his keys. You felt very unlike yourself but it wasn’t an unwelcome difference. You’d never felt such a connection with anyone before. Never found anyone quite as irresistible as you found him. You were glad you’d agreed to this, vaguely recalling the rumours you’d heard about how capable Roger was with women and deciding you could use a little capable. When he finally figured out the keys he ushered you inside and lunged for your lips again, pressing you against the wall as he found them. You’ve got nothing to lose. It was the only thought you had time for as his hands slid down to cup your arse, pulling you tightly against him, and he began kissing down your neck, making your breath quicken. He pushed his jacket from your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in the middle of the hallway as he found his way back to your mouth, and began walking you through the dark house towards his bedroom. You hit the edge of the bed faster than you’d been prepared for, falling backwards with a giggle and a soft thud. Roger laughed as you scooted backwards towards the centre of the bed, and followed you, slightly more gracefully than you managed. Moonlight streamed through the partially open curtains, bathing you both in a soft light that made him look somehow more gorgeous, and you couldn’t quite believe this was happening. Hovering over you he began unbuttoning your blouse, his lips wandering over your sternum and down towards your chest. You moved to unfasten the buttons and zip on your pants, trying to speed up the process. “Someone’s in a hurry,” “Want you so bad Roger. Been a while since I did this and god I need it.” “How long’s a while?” he paused midway through pushing your shirt down your arms. “Umm... Months, not sure how many.” “Christ. If you wanna slow down...” “Don’t slow down.” You leaned up to kiss him again, to show him how eager you were, “Just don’t try anything too crazy, I’m a little out of practice.” You pulled your shirt off and throw it to the floor. “Noted,” Roger said as he began tugging your pants off and dropped them to the floor as well, “I’m gonna make sure the wait was worth it though.” He lowered his head towards your thigh and you couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up in your throat. “Oh, you’re ticklish!” his face lit up in cheeky delight as he brought his hands up to your sides, making you squeal and writhe as you tried to escape the sensation. Every twitch of his fingers pulled more laughter from you until you were panting and struggling to say his name, begging him to stop. “You’ve got such a cute laugh,” he said as he removed his hands from you, dropping a small kiss just below your bellybutton as you tried to catch your breath, “can’t wait to hear what you sound like moaning.” You could feel him smirking as he left another kiss, lower than the first, on your skin and you let out a breathy whine. He kissed lower still, leading down to your still clothed pussy and the small wet spot that had appeared over the course of the night, as you pushed yourself up on your forearms to watch. When a kiss landed over the top of your clit your hips bucked and when he wrapped his lips round the wet spot, sucking the soaked material into his mouth you whined again. He was clearly enjoying teasing you, the tent in his pants more obvious with every passing moment. “You want some help with that?” you indicated his noticeable bulge but Roger told you to hush. “I’m not the one that’s gone without for months. Just lie back and let me take care of you.” With that he finally tugged your underwear down your legs, and you let your head fall back against the pillow.

Roger didn’t hesitate, pushing your legs further open as he dived in to lick your pussy. He took his time, covering almost every inch of you with his mouth, listening to your whines and whimpers so he could find where you were most sensitive, but steadily avoiding your clit. When he sucked one of your lips into his mouth you moaned and he made sure to repeat the action, sending a jolt through you each time. You were already babbling about how good it felt, breathless words rolling off your tongue with no rhyme or reason, bleeding into each other and the moans that followed, when he began to tease your entrance, pushing his finger tip in and letting it slip back out as you tried to clench around it. “Aren’t you just so needy,” he said as he sunk his finger into you, deeper this time, and let it slip out again, “haven’t even touched your clit and you’re already close to cumming for me,” he continued to finger you slowly, pushing deeper each time until it was buried knuckle deep in your core. Then he began again, adding a second finger, as he returned his mouth to your wet folds. You whined his name as the pit in your stomach began to ache with the need for release, and put your hand on the back of his head trying to press him closer. Roger scissored his fingers inside you for a moment before he brought them to a complete halt. You whimpered at the sudden change but didn’t have time to reprimand him as he finally brought his mouth to your clit, flicking his tongue back and forth over it. It felt fucking incredible but the pressure wasn’t consistent enough to push you over the edge. “Oh fuck. Roger I’m so close,” “I know, can feel you clenching round my fingers.” You bucked your hips again, trying to get the friction you needed and felt Roger laugh, his breath ghosting over your pussy. “Want to hear you scream my name when you cum. Let everyone know who makes you feel this good.” He pressed his tongue against your clit before sucking it between his lips, at the same time he made a come-hither motion with his two fingers. Within seconds you were coming undone, moaning his name loudly, as per his request. He held you there, blissed out beyond belief, eyes closed as you rode out the orgasm, quivering slightly as his fingers twitched inside you. “So was that worth waiting for?” You blinked as you came back to reality and found Roger looking up at you, his head resting against your thigh as he drew random patterns over your stomach. “You realise It’s been months since I last had sex not since I last had an orgasm, right? Like, I do know how to masturbate,” a pause, “But yes, well worth it,” you conceded with a smile. Roger flashed you the cockiest grin you’d ever seen, “told you so.” He crawled back over you and you could taste yourself on his lips as he kissed you hungrily, “and by the way,” he said breaking the kiss, “you masturbating is something I would be very interested in watching. But right now, all I want is to be buried in your gorgeous cunt. The way you felt around my fingers, fuck, want you on my cock so bad.” You hummed as you kissed him, “Think I can make that happen,” you said before rolling the both of you over so you were leaning over him. “Condoms are in the top draw” he pointed at his bedside table as you hurried to undo his fly and pull his pants and underwear down his legs. “I’ll get it, you get those clothes off.” “Yes ma’am,” he said, already ripping his shirt over his head. You saw it fall to the floor as you dug around the draw, followed by the sound of him kicking his pants off his feet. His cock was already standing at attention when you got back to the bed, tearing open the condom wrapper with your teeth. “Might have to take this a bit slow,” you said as you rolled the condom down his shaft. Roger nodded as you took hold of his cock to line him up with your entrance. His breath caught in his throat as you slowly sunk down on him, taking your time as you adjusted to the unfamiliar and complete fullness. “Christ, fuck,” you swore under your breath as you took him a little deeper and paused again. “Stole the words right outta my mouth,” he grunted, squeezing your hips, “fuck, you okay?” “Told you I was out of practice,” your laugh turned into a moan as you lowered yourself the last inch or so, sheathing him fully inside you. Roger moved his hands to squeeze your breasts as your breaths turned to pants. You slowly began rocking your hips, the room filing with your gasps and whines as you picked up speed. “Fuck, want to be buried in your cunt forever.” he gasped out as you began raising and lowering yourself on your knees, needing more more more. “Roger, ohh god, rub my clit, please,” He didn’t need to be told twice, letting one hand drop down where you needed it. His touch sent a shiver down your spine and your back arched as his name dripped from your lips again. This only encouraged Roger who sped up the furious circles he was making on your clit. You felt yourself hurtling towards another orgasm as your pussy clenched. “Gonna cum soon,” Roger’s hips jerked up as he grunted his warning. “Same,” you said as you leaned forward to suck a hickey onto his collarbone. It wasn’t much longer before he was calling out your name as he hit his climax, and pulling you into yours with his fingers still on your clit.

You collapsed on your side next to him, still breathing heavily. Roger left the bed long enough to dispose of the used condom before he was back, pulling you against him and throwing the covers over the two of you. “I’ll call a cab in a moment,” you said, voice thick with exhaustion. “Don’t be daft.” “Not gonna kick me out?” “Course not. Jesus, what d’you take me for.” “Good. I’m too comfy to move anyway.” “Good. I like having you in my bed.” You hummed as his arms tightened around you and you felt him drop a kiss to the back of your neck. You could feel your eyes drooping but fought off sleep for as long as you could, not wanting the moment to end. Letting your fingers trail softly over Roger’s hand which was flung over your stomach, you listened as his breathing slowed and became deeper. Smiling into the pillow you finally let yourself succumb to sleep.

When you woke up you were alone and slightly confused by your unfamiliar surroundings. Oh, fuck... Things started coming back to you as you took in the clothing still littering the floor. You hurried to dress yourself in yesterday’s clothes and then made your way out of the room, wanting to find a phone to call a cab from. You found Roger first, following the sound of the kettle through the house to the kitchen. He was standing over the stove, back to the doorway and you allowed yourself a moment to look him over in the daylight before you caught his attention. “Morning,” He whipped around at the sound of your voice, “Morning. I was gonna bring breakfast up to you.” He held up the spatula he was clutching as proof of his intentions. “Thanks, but I should probably get going.” “Already?” You were surprised by the note of disappointment in his voice. “That’s how this sort of thing normally works, isn’t it?” “Told you last night I’m not gonna kick you out.” You hesitated. “It’s a free meal, love, might as well stay. Nothing to lose.” There were those words again. They reverberated through your head and you found yourself sitting down. Roger smiled as he turned back around to the stove, shuffling fry pans and plates around as he served the breakfast. “I hope bacon and eggs are okay,” he said as he placed your plate in front of you. “Brilliant,” you suddenly realised just how hungry you were, not having eaten properly since lunch yesterday. “Dig in, don’t wait for me. Tea?” “Yes please. No milk, two sugars.” “Can I ask you something? About last night?” “Yeah,” you said, a forkful of food halfway to your mouth as your stomach began to twist with nerves. “What made you change your mind?” He put the tea down in front of you, “You were going to go home and then you changed your mind. What was it that convinced you to stay?” “You’ve got nothing to lose. You said that to me and I realised you were right.” You shrugged as you brought the fork to your mouth, “Plus, no one had ever kissed me like that before.” “I was giving you my A game, had to impress you.” “I was worth A game?” “Course, couldn’t give such an incredible woman less than that” “You flatterer,” you laughed, “It had been a while though, I probably would have been happy with C game.” “Well I didn’t find that out till later did I.” He took a sip of his tea, staring at you over the top of his cup. “Out of curiosity, why had it been so long? Something to do with the lack of A game kissing?” he teased. “I mean, it was a factor.” You could hear the indignation creeping into your voice and willed it away, “Not everyone has mountains of groupies after them.” So much for no indignation. “No need to get defensive,” Roger held both his hands up, palms towards you, “wasn’t judging.” “Sorry. It’s a bit of a sore spot is all.” “No, you’re fine. I shouldn’t pry.” “Truth is I haven’t dated much. And none of the guys I did date were any good. Recently it’s just been easier to put work first.” “Does that mean I’m the best you’ve ever had,” his cocky grin from the previous night was back and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, but it was a very very low bar.” “I’ll take what I can get.” He looked you over, seeming like he wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure how, “I had the best time with you last night and I was thinking y’know...maybe this doesn’t have to end here. Let me take you out tomorrow night on a proper date.” “Let me guess… I’ve got nothing to lose?” you laughed. “That a yes?” “Yes.”

You left Roger’s place a little while later, heading home to sink into a hot bath and relax, and barely thought about anything besides him until he picked you up the next night. Your first official date went well – dinner, drinks, making out in the car before he dropped you home. You invited him inside but he wanted to prove he was interested in you for reasons besides that, instead leaving you with lips tingling from a long deep kiss as he departed, and the immediate need to masturbate. He took you out again the next night and again two days after that. Before you knew it, you were three months into your relationship, spending more and more time with him. You introduced him to your friends and family and met his in return. To the outside world you were still the same intelligent and accomplished woman, but now you also had an enviable relationship which seemed to get you more attention than your work did, though Roger was always the first to brag about it. He loved showing you off, telling anyone who’d listen about your work, pulling you into conversations so people could see you were just as bright and self-assured and brilliant as he’d told them you were. More than once you found yourself in a deep discussion with someone he’d been talking to, and caught him staring at you like he’d never seen anything more beautiful. It made your chest burst every time. The way he celebrated every aspect of you, cared enough to ask about your day and pressed for details about your job. Even when you disagreed about something, he’d hear you out, maybe with an eye roll, but he genuinely cared about your thoughts and opinions.

Which made it easier to take yourself less seriously and loosen up a little. Your work was still incredibly important and something you cared deeply about, but now that you had Roger it was easier to admit you’d been spending too much time at the office. Using it as an excuse to avoid the terrifying unknowns of life and the impending future you hadn’t been able to imagine. Where before the question ‘where do you see yourself in five years’ would have caused anxiety that led to a week’s worth of overtime and insomnia, now you were able to confidently say, “I might not know but I hope it’s with Roger.” You smiled more around him, laughed more. He could turn you into a silly giggling fool with one look, and that was the most freeing feeling you’d ever experienced. You had nothing to prove to Roger. You didn’t have to make him see you how you wanted to be seen, like you’d had to do within your studies and work, because he already saw you as wonderful. And frankly you liked the person you were with him more than you’d liked the person you were alone.

And then there was the sex. You’d never believed people when they talked about the incredible sex they were regularly having. Never understood why everyone made such a big deal about it. In your experience it wasn’t worth it. Roger had quickly changed your mind. On your third official date he agreed to go back to your place but you’d spent most of the night talking about sex rather than actually having any. The topic of your limited experience had come up again and Roger was trying to gauge what you'd already tried. “Yes, I’ve sucked dick before,” you rolled your eyes as you stood to fill your empty wine glass, waving it round as you spoke, “not my favourite thing ever if I’m being honest but no one ever complained about my techniques.” “Hand job?” “Is that a request?” You raised your eyebrows and took a sip of your wine. “Stop trying to get my pants off, love,” he laughed, “You’re the one who keeps saying you’ve never had good sex, ‘m just trying to find out what you have had, so I can decide how to blow your mind next.” “If you really must know, all the guys I’ve been with were fairly bad at it. Only two of them made me cum regularly and even then it was a one and done situation. You did more to blow my mind on our not-quite-a-one-night-stand than anyone else has.” “Keep talking like that and you’ll give me a big head.” “As if you don’t already have one.” You dropped yourself into his lap, giggling at the small ‘oof’ of surprise he let out, and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Alright, alright. So, what’s the kinkiest you’ve done then?” “Does being eaten out count as kinky?” “God, are you serious?” “No, I did convince one of them to spank me once which was fun. Hinted that I might want to try more, being tied up and stuff, but he wasn’t into it.” “Christ, no wonder you gave up on dating,” “I wouldn’t say gave up, just put it on the back burner.” “Well it’s a good thing you met me then.” he said, looking up into your eyes, “I’d be very happy to tie you up, and stuff.” A shiver ran down your spine at the suggestion, “Really? You’re into it?” “Oh, love, we are going to have some fun. You’ve got -” “Nothing to lose,” you finished before leaning down to kiss him.”

The longer you were together the more you found yourself thinking about sex. It was like meeting Roger had flipped a switch inside your brain, set off some sort of chemical reaction that made your blood run hot and your skin tingle with the need to be touched. Suddenly you cared about sex, wanted it, even dreamt about it. You had years of bad sex and dry spells to erase and Roger was only too happy to help. To his credit he never rushed you or pushed you to try things you weren’t comfortable with and he always made sure you were safe as he slowly opened your eyes to new things. It started out small, a light spanking one night, since you already had experience with it and liked it. He used it as an excuse to question you more about what else you’d be interested in trying, promising to reward you with another hit for every answer you gave him. At first you’d felt self-conscious, especially when asked to describe what you’d fantasised about. But soon enough he’d had you admitting to everything you’d ever wanted to try, desperately trying to earn another spank as you slowly dripped onto his knee. And then he’d praised you for answering so well and god you could have cum from that alone, the three fingers he'd pressed into you were just a bonus.

Your answers gave him ideas for what to try next. Adding handcuffs or blindfolds when he fucked you, calling you degrading names while you tried out words like Sir or Master for him, testing how they felt on your tongue and deciding which you liked. Pulling you into public restrooms and other secluded spaces because you admitted that the danger of being caught was a turn on. He’d use your own ideas against you until you were begging, often times for more. He was particularly fond of bringing up the fantasy you’d had of being turned into a silly, giggly, dumb slut – empty headed and eager to please. It was something you’d developed a penchant for back at uni, a fantasy you turned to when the pressure to be smarter than everyone else got too much, though you’d never actually told anyone about it before. The idea of him knowing – of anyone knowing – your desire to be a brainless bimbo was terrifying and exciting and every time he mentioned it you got goosebumps and butterflies. He’d lean in close to your ear, running his hands through your hair, and tell you that a good slut had no use for her brain. That you should just let it go. What could you possibly have to think about besides being pretty and filling your holes however he wanted? It was so easy to sit and listen, let his words fill your head until there wasn’t room for anything else, just the need to please him. It was your favourite release when work was stressful and tough, and for the last week that’s all work had been. Between the land deal you were trying to organise taking longer than you’d planned and the constant juggling of calls to contractors for quotes and calls to estate agents to renegotiate terms, everything was getting to be too much. You just needed to forget about everything for a little while.

So, when Roger got home that evening, he found you waiting, wearing the tightest, skimpiest clothes you owned – a skirt that only just covered your lace panty clad arse, and a low-cut singlet over a bra that pushed your tits together, plus the tallest heels you owned. It was the sort of outfit you only wore when you wanted to be his brainless toy. It helped you drop into your new role faster, helped your brain melt away. “Everything okay?” He asked as he pulled you into a hug. “Yeah, just need a break. If you’re up for it?” “Course, love. You know I love playing with my bimbo doll.” You hugged him tighter, trying to convey how much you loved him with one gesture, already feeling slightly tingly. He led you to the couch, sitting you down to face him.

“Just need a break from all that noise in your pretty head, don’t you?” His voice sounded different to when he’d first come in, softer and calmer but more authoritative, “all that stress from work. Just need to listen to my voice and slowly sink deeper down, away from your brain, away from everything bad and stressful. And the more stressful things are, the more worries and noise in that silly brain, the faster you sink down down down until you can’t remember anything anymore. Down deeper, where there’s nothing to lose. Where there’s no need for big words. Where the only thing that matters is being a good doll for Sir. Pleasing Sir. Because pleasing Sir makes you happy and horny, doesn’t it? “Yes,” you sighed softly, a wet spot already beginning to form as you stared into his eyes. “It’s so simple, so easy, isn’t it my pretty, silly, slut. So simple and easy to leave your mind behind.” You breathed deep as Roger’s hands glided through your hair, gently smoothing it back, his fingernails running over your scalp and down down down to push it behind your ear. “That’s right, just relax. You’ve got nothing to lose by listening and relaxing. Thinking about how fun it is to be simple and easy.” Your eyes were shut, though you didn’t remember closing them. You felt Roger’s hand move further down your hair, splitting it into sections, running his fingers through it to smooth it out. “You like being simple and easy, don’t you? Simple and easy and fun and dumb. My pretty, silly, bimbo.” He was winding your hair round his fingers, moving slowly and gently, sending tingles down your spine as you took another deep breath. A whimper dropped from your lips and you could almost feel your mind emptying with every word he spoke, letting go of the day, the meetings, the harried phone calls, the forms you had to sign. All of it was so unimportant compared to his voice. “And d’you wanna know the best part about you being like this?” “Yes.” If you’d been able to think properly you would have said your voice had changed too. Higher pitched than normal. Brighter and bubblier. “The best part about you being simple and easy and fun and dumb, is how hot it is. How wet you get. Isn’t that right?” “Yes,” you giggled, “hot and wet.” “Good girl,” You giggled again, his praise making what was left of your brain feel mushy and happy. Roger chuckled at your giggly, giddy response, letting his fingers slip out the bottom of your hair and onto your arms. You shivered at his touch, face breaking into a smile. “Feels good being touched when you’re like this. Simple and easy and fun and dumb. You want me to keep touching you?” You whimpered, “yes,” breath coming out in pants as his hands slipped down your arms, setting your skin aflame. “Yeah, you like that. Got nothing to lose by being touched. Just feels good.” “Yeah, feels so good,” you giggled and you heard Roger chuckle in response. “Open your eyes for me, wanna see your pretty eyes,” Your eyes shot open and you beamed at Roger. “You like when I compliment you, don’t you?” “Yeah,” you giggled again, feeling bubblier and lighter now that you could see his reactions. His hands had slipped down to your own, tracing patterns softly over your skin, between your fingers, tapping over your nails. “Like, when I tell you how cute you sound right now, all giggly. A silly, giggly slut.” Your response was so predictable, Roger was smiling even before you started to giggle again. “How do you feel, love?” “Ummmm, fuzzy. Happy.” His hands slipped further, landing on your thighs and slipping over your knees, making a wave of arousal roll through your body and a soft whine roll off your tongue. “Yeah? Do you remember those four words I used to describe you earlier?” You thought for a moment, furrowing your brow as you searched for the right words, “dumb?” “Yes, that was one of them, do you remember the other three?” “Umm,” you stared at Roger, mouth slightly open, “horny?” Roger laughed again. “Dumb and horny.... and... easy?” “That’s right, but horny wasn’t one of the four words.” “Oh,” “But that’s okay, you feel horny, don’t you? D’you want me to tell you the four words?” You nodded fast. “Simple and easy and fun and …?” “Dumb!” “Good girl.” He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours as you laughed again, “And now that my pretty bimbo doll has nothing left to lose, all dumb and mindless, what does she want to do?” "Ummmm,” “What is it?” “I want to suck your cock, Sir,” “Is that so? Thought you said you didn’t like sucking cock.” “Noooooo, I love sucking your cock Sir.” Roger looked so amused by your answer you couldn’t help but giggle, even though you didn’t quite understand why. All you knew was you wanted to please him, that pleasing him made you feel good.

As soon as you heard the jangle of Roger unbuckling his belt your mouth fell open and your tongue stuck out. He moved around so his leg was stretched out down the length of the couch, his other hanging over the edge, with you kneeling in between. Slowly, his eyes glued on you, he unzipped his fly and pushed his pants down his hips enough to let his cock spring free. You waited patiently for his word, watching as he grasped his shaft and lazily stroked along it. Your mouth was almost watering as your desire to lick and suck grew, drowning out everything else. “God you’re cute. Practically drooling. Ready to show me what a desperate cockslut you are?” You hummed, replacing Roger’s hand with your own, wrapping it around his base as you kitten licked at his tip. He sighed softly as you took him into your mouth, relaxing further into the couch, and you felt a small burst of pleasure pulse through you. It spurred you on and you sunk lower, taking more of him, before rising back up to swirl your tongue around his tip. He groaned and you were hit by another jolt between your legs. Every noise you pulled from him set you on fire, the pit in your stomach tightening, your cunt dripping, only encouraging you to suck harder and take him deeper. His fist tangled in your hair, holding you down as you gagged around him. Looking up with watering eyes you could see Roger had dropped his head back, his lips silently forming words he couldn’t get out, lost in the sensation of being in your throat. It was enough to make you moan and redouble your efforts, bobbing up and down faster, working him as deep as he could go. “Fuck, Y/N” Roger choked out, “gonna make me cum soon,” You released him with a pop, unable to stop the grin the crept onto your face. “You like the idea of me cumming down your throat?” “So much, Sir!” “What about the idea of you cumming?” “If that pleases Sir, yes” “You’ve been such a good doll, think you deserve the reward. But only after you’ve swallowed all my cum okay?” “Promise, Sir,” “That’s enough talking now, wanna hear you gagging instead,” he tapped your head and you leaned down, letting him slip all the way back down your throat. His grip returned to your hair, pulling you up and then pushing you down again, showing you the speed at which you should be moving. You fell into rhythm, breaking the pattern every now and then to hollow your cheeks around his tip or lick along the underside of his cock or gulp for air, before finding the rhythm again. “So close, fuck, so so close,” Your movement was suddenly halted as he pressed down on the back of your head, making you choke. You tried to move, needing another gasp of air but he held you down as he came, coating your throat with hot spurts of cum. You swallowed every drop he gave you, your body surging with the electric knowledge you’d pleased him so much, tingling from head to toe.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” He sat up, brushing his fingertips over your cheek. “So much, Sir! I love your cock,” you giggled, leaning forward to drop a quick peck to the head, “love drinking your cum.” “And you’re so good at it. My pretty, cocksucking doll. Do you still wanna cum?” “ummm, yes?” You didn’t really care if you got to cum, you just wanted to make your Sir happy. “I’d like to watch you cum,” “Then yes!” another giggle. “Then why don’t you sit that cute cunt right here,” he patted his thigh, “and show me what a good slut you are.” You settled yourself over him, hitching your skirt up in the process, so you could grind against him, still wearing the skimpy panties you’d picked out. A moan escaped you as you rolled your hips and Roger placed his hands on them, to keep you pressed firmly against him as you rocked yourself closer to your release. You were already so worked up it didn’t take long for you to reach the edge, whimpering as Roger’s grip tightened. “That’s right, cum for me,” His permission was all you needed to let yourself fall over the edge with a gasp. You felt so light and happy, buzzing with pride and the knowledge that your Sir wanted to see you fall apart. You shuddered and fell forward as the orgasm washed over you, leaning your forehead against Roger’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to the top of your head as you shivered through the orgasm. “So beautiful,” he was playing with your hair again and you hummed at how good it felt. “That’s right, just relax, listen and relax and come back. Nothing to lose by coming back. Back to who you were before. Who you are. So simple, so easy to come back. Relax into it. Relax back into yourself. Letting go of the bimbo. So easy to come back to your mind.” You took a deep breath as you returned to yourself. More aware of everything around you. The salty taste of Roger’s cum on your tongue. The warm, wet feeling between your legs. The scent of Roger’s cologne as you breathed deeply. You sighed contentedly as the giddy, giggly lightness you’d felt slowly faded and the real world came back to you. Roger’s eyes found yours as he tilted your head up, searching them for anything amiss. “Hey,” he said softly rubbing your arm soothingly, “how was that, you okay?” “That was exactly what I needed. Thank you.” You pecked him on the lips. “You’re very welcome. You wanna talk about work?” “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now I’m,” you shifted slightly, still straddling his thigh, “still a little worked up actually. Race you to the bedroom?” Roger’s lips slammed against yours as he held you tightly, the kiss heated and hungry, “who need’s a bedroom when there’s a perfectly fine couch here. Time I repaid you for the fucking fantastic blow job.” You squealed as you found yourself on your back, Roger pulling your soaked underwear off hurriedly.

To the world at large you were a well-respected, intelligent, and accomplished woman with an enviable relationship. And you were. All that and more. But you knew, and Roger knew, that deep down you were just a silly, giggly, dumb slut, who loved sex and craved cock and lived to please. Just a pretty bimbo who had no use for anything besides her Sir. And really, what more could you possibly want.

#my writing #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor smut #queen smut #queen fanfic #im actually finally happy enough that i can post this #i know its not gonna be everyones cuppa tea #but bimbofication is literally all i can think about when i hear future management #and uhhhh #oof it gets me going #anyway #enjoy!!#as always feedback is appreciated #and if you wanna talk about hypnosis or bimbofication or anything in here #i am more than happy to have that convo lmao #(also that word count was not intentional but it did make me laugh)

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livelongdolan · 5 years

Text

Heart Shaped (G.D.)

Summary: In a world where matching birthmarks determines your soulmate, Y/N knows she will find the one for her, what she doesn’t expect is the nature of the relationship that quickly blossoms.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: suicide (overdose), death (car crash), angst

A/N: This is my first fic that I have posted so please let me know if there’s anything I should fix :) thank you for reading! (i also do tag lists if you would like to be added to it!)

You had been looking forward to this day ever since your parents had first told you about the soulmate system. You were told that in order to make sure the population was stable for many years to come, people now had matching birthmarks which indicated who your soulmate was. See, every child had the normal spots that came around but there was one that changed once you were at a certain age. It was different for each child, but for you it was at the age of seventeen. The morning of your seventeenth birthday you had gotten up to brush your teeth and you looked into the mirror, noticing that the birthmark on your chin had shifted into a small heart in the same spot. You quickly rushed to your parents and they hugged you, telling you happy birthday but you stopped them before they could say anything else. You told them to look at your chin and they soon spotted the spot that had changed overnight. They congratulated you and the day continued on as normal with a little added excitement for the chance of seeing her soulmate out and about.

Today was that day. It was a sunny afternoon, so you decided to take a little walk in the park when you noticed a boy sitting all alone on a bench. He looked about your age and even from about ten feet away you could see the muscles in his arms flexing as he leaned his head back on to them, stretching his legs out and almost to the path where people were jogging by. The strange thing was that they didn’t even move out of the way, it seemed as if they were just pretending he wasn’t there. You, being the kind person you were, decided to sit next to the boy and make some small talk since he seemed so alone. You made your way over to the bench and sat down next to him before crossing your legs and turning yourself towards him.

“Hello! I noticed you were sitting here alone and I figured I would join you, as long as I’m not imposing or anything.” You spoke in your most polite voice in case there was a bad reason that no one was paying attention to him.

He simply raised his eyebrows as if he was confused, and looked at you straight on. You then noticed the heart shaped mark on his chin, in the same position that yours was in and butterflies went wild in your stomach. He had to be seeing this too right? That’s why he was confused? Oh, you really hoped he was because you didn’t want your soulmate to just be a rude man who wouldn’t talk to you. While the thoughts raced through your head he answered you with a voice deeper than you expected with a slight east coast accent.

“No, it’s okay. Uh, what’s your name? I’m Grayson.” He seemed to trip over his words.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You stuck your and out and shook his hand, which was surprisingly cold. Grayson, you thought, what a nice name for your soulmate and it perfectly fit him somehow. He had a strange aura about him, almost as if you had seen him before. You pushed that aside and put something out on the table that was most likely bugging him as much as it was bugging you. “So… we have the same birthmark.” You smiled slightly.

He looked at you closer and then realized the matching birthmark you had on your chin and a smile spread across your face. “Wow we really do,” he replied with the same smile that you had given him, “but something must be wrong.” His small smile quickly turned to a frown, as did yours.

“What do you mean? It can’t be wrong that’s how the system works. I’ve been waiting for this for all my life and you’re telling me it’s wrong?” You got slightly angry at the handsome boy seated in front of you. A couple with a stroller passed by and gave you a strange look, you assumed for almost yelling in the park, and you muttered an apology. You started to talk a little quieter. “What’s wrong with it Grayson?” You sighed.

“I think we should go somewhere else to talk about this, somewhere more private because what I’m going to tell you might shock you and I don’t want it to happen here.” He said quietly. You thought about it for a moment before you decided that it would be fine to go with him, even though you had just met him. You had your phone in your pocket if anything went wrong and, after all he was your soulmate. Right?

You followed Grayson across the park, too caught up in your own thoughts to talk about anything. The two of you stopped after a bit and entered a small alcove, where no one could see you unless they went looking inside. You turned to Grayson with a questioning look, prepared to hear why he couldn’t be your soulmate.

“Okay, before I say anything you have to promise that you won’t tell anyone any of this ever happened because I’m afraid if you do, no one will believe you.” He said, as he rested his hand lightly on your forearm. You simply nodded your head, too confused to reply verbally.

After a deep breath, he finally said it. “I’m not alive.” He looked you dead in the eye and then you realized he was really just pulling a prank on you. You burst out in laughter but Grayson’s face remained the same as he waited for you to stop. Once you finally did, he spoke again.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me. What do I have to do to prove it to you? You saw the way that people didn’t even acknowledge me. You saw the way that family looked at you when you were talking to me. They can’t see me. Only you can. And I’m assuming it’s because we are soulmates, which would be absolutely amazing if I were alive, the only problem is that i’m literally not.” His face was so serious that you actually believed him, your mouth gaped open in shock.

“B-but w-ha-” You stuttered out a few syllables but honestly you were speechless. Luckily, he spoke again so that you could process it all.

“I died a couple months ago. It’s still a pretty sensitive topic for me but if you’d like to hear it I will tell you.” He offered. You simply nodded your head although you weren’t really prepared to hear more about how the boy who was yours- or at least supposed to be- had died.

“Okay, well, back in April I was driving with my twin brother Ethan down a road that we went down almost every time we went to the beach but I was so distracted that instead of slowing down and actually stopping at the stop sign I went straight through since I didn’t notice it was there. Ethan’s side got hit first but I was just flung from the car on to the road. I looked back at Ethan and he was barely breathing, covered in blood, and had a shard of metal stuck through his chest. Someone called 911 but before we could even get there he died. He died because of me.” Grayson paused, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“If he is the one who died, why are you dead too?” You timidly asked.

Grayson wiped his eyes and continued. “Well, after he died I was stuck in the hospital for about a month getting healed and just seeing the hurt in my parents’ eyes broke me. They told me again and again that it wasn’t my fault but I knew they were lying. They knew they were lying. So I decided to take the burden off their shoulders. I knew that they hated looking at me because Ethan and I were twins so every time they saw me, they saw him too.” He took a sharp breath and continued on. “So instead of getting better, I got worse. I took the pain killers that the hospital had given me when they sent me home and I went in the bathroom that Ethan and I shared, and I took them all at once. I went through something which I am still not sure what it was but I could still see them. They found me on the floor holding a picture of him and tried to save me but it didn’t work. So now, I’m here.”

Tears had formed in your eyes as you listened to the boy’s sad story. You then remembered why you had recognized him earlier. He was the son of the well known Dolan Family, the ones that had made the system in the first place. You had seen the news of him and his brother’s death on the news. You could barely even believe that something so horrible could happen to someone, let alone your own soulmate. You pushed aside your slightly selfish thoughts and took a hold of his hand, the chill of it now made sense to you.

“I’m sorry Grayson. I’m so so sorry.” A single tear rolled down your cheek but he quickly moved the hand you weren’t holding up to brush it away.

“Hey hey darling, don’t cry, it’s okay. I’m the one who should be apologizing because look at me. I’m your soulmate and I was stupid and messed it up. I’m sorry that we can’t be together love. But it’s okay. At least you can see me right? And I’ll always be here for you. I’m sure with the way the system works you’ll be reassigned to another guy.” He gave a weak smile.

“Grayson, I don’t want another guy. I know it sounds stupid because I literally just met you but I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. I’ve had dreams about who my soulmate would be and just because you aren’t alive doesn’t mean you’re not my soulmate. They can’t just assign someone else to me, that’s not how love works.” You cried.

Grayson pulled you forward and into his embrace as you cried into the soft material of his shirt. He let his fingers run through your hair, savoring the moments he had with you while he still had them. After a few moments you pulled away, sniffling.

“C-can I ask you something?” You hiccuped.

“Of course darling.” He smiled.

“Where’s Ethan? Like how come you’re here as a ghost or whatever you are and he’s not? Wouldn’t that be how it works?” You questioned, blinking through blurry eyes.

“I’m not really sure actually. I just figured that since he had already found his soulmate he was able to be at peace. I guess since I didn’t find you, until just now, I was left here to find you. But I’m glad I was because I don’t know how I could go on without knowing you at least for a little bit of time.” He stated.

You nodded your head but then your brain caught on to the last part of the sentence.

“What do you mean a little bit of time?” You were confused, was he going to leave already? Just because he wasn’t alive? Sure, you couldn’t do much but you were the only one that could see him, touch him, feel him.

“Well I’m assuming that now we found each other I’m going to be at peace too. I think it’s better for me anyways. Don’t get me wrong I really really love talking to you even if we have just been talking for an hour but I really miss Ethan. And I’m always just a little bit away. I can still hear you even if I have passed on, I just can’t directly speak back.” He frowned a bit with his statement.

“O-okay. Can we at least spend as long as we can together? Not out in public because I don’t want to look like a crazy person but like anywhere else?” You questioned. He smiled and nodded his head, having the perfect place in mind. The two of you walked down the street and around the corner until you reached a quiet overlook that held just a bench. No one was around so you two spent the rest of the night there, after you sent a quick text to your parents letting them know that you were okay. You talked about anything and everything and you really did know why this boy was your soulmate. He was perfect for you. He loved building, the outdoors, sports, but also loved just slowing things down for a moment and capturing the memories that really meant something. You learned about his family, and how Ethan tried to make them start a YouTube channel once but it never took off. You also learned about his hometown in New Jersey and all of the torment he went through in high school. You learned so much about this boy, but you would soon have to let him go.

It was close to five in the morning when Grayson felt a strange sensation in his stomach, almost as if he was being pulled. He looked down at you, laid asleep in his lap, and he knew it was time. He grabbed your phone and snapped a few pictures, then opened up the notes and typed out something for you to wake up to. He set your phone back down, sliding it into your pocket and pressed a soft kiss on your cheek before moving you slowly off of him. You grumbled a bit in your sleep but didn’t wake up as Grayson slowly faded away, going to be with his brother again after finally meeting his true love.

A couple of hours later you woke up and soon last night’s memories came flooding back as you started to panic. You looked around for Grayson but he wasn’t anywhere. You felt a buzz come from your phone and took it out of your pocket. You noticed that you had a text from your Mom, so you opened your phone but instead of texting her back you took a look at the note that was open. Tears filled your eyes and fell down your cheeks as you read it, absorbing each work slowly and carefully. Grayson was gone. He was at peace. And all he left besides a night of memories was a note.

Y/N, my darling, my soulmate, my everything,

Although we only met yesterday I could tell that we really are soulmates. I’m sorry that I have to go now but just know that I love you. You mean the world to me and I will always be with you, just call for me and I’ll be there. I promise.

Love, Grayson

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #ethan dolan #ethan dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan angst #ethan dolan angst

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eyes-of-fanfiction-green · 5 years

Text

Happy Valentine’s Day Dean Winchester

MASTERLIST

Dean x Reader

Summary: The reader gets back one night from a boring date. She doesn’t think anyone has the same idea of a perfect date as she does...... but maybe Dean will prove her wrong.

WARNINGS: fluff....but adventurous fluff!

A/N: I really don’t like writing fluffy, but.... it’s the day after Valentine’s Day and I’m single, okay?? I get one pass! (Also, I’m think of putting together a tag list at some point, so let me know if you want on it. Also if you have requests, send them my way! Enjoy!) (also, I am SO SORRY this got so long.....I got a little carried away...hehe)

It was the day before Valentine’s Day and you were just coming back from a date... if you could call it that. You swore you’d had more entertainment when doing 12 hours of research on Egyptian mummifying rituals last week.

“Hey [Y/N]! How was your date?” Sam called from the living room as you stomped into Bobby’s house, the door swinging shut in your wake.

“Aren’t you back kinda early?” Dean interjected from his seat. “What happened? Was he a little to.... little.... in the men’s department?” He smirked.

You flashed him a sarcastic smile before switching to a glare. “No. We didn’t even get that far”.

You flopped down on the couch next to Sam with a groan and let your head fall back with a dramatic sigh. “I’m done. I quit.”

“With....what?....exactly?” Dean asked hesitantly, shooting Sam a confused glance, getting nothing but a half-hearted shrug in return.

Your head snapped up and your eyes narrowed into Dean’s gaze inflinchingly. “With MEN.” Disgust and menace dripped from your voice like syrup from a spoon.

Dean gulped and looked over to his brother for backup.

“[Y/N], it couldn’t have gone THAT badly, could it?” Sam offered.

You heaved another sigh (apparently you were feeling dramatic today. Who knew?) and stood up to start pacing determinedly across Bobby’s floor.

“It’s not that it went BADLY. It was just so.....so... boring. I mean seriously, is dinner and a movie really the only option for a date??”

The brothers’ eyes followed you back and forth silently as your pacing became more fervent.

“Am I like a freak or something? Does no one else get bored by basic rituals for a first date??.... maybe there’s something wrong with me...”

At this, Dean finally had had enough.

He stood up and stepped in your path, grabbing you by the shoulders to make you look at him. “There is NOTHING wrong with you. You’re just unique an-“

You snorted and started turning away.

“Hey.” Dean turned you back to face him, lowering his head to look at you squarely in the eyes. “Just because you don’t want to conform to society’s idea of what to do on a date, doesn’t mean you are a freak. Okay? It means that you are adventurous and amazing and way to good for any of those stuffed up lawyer men you go out with.” His eyes seemed to communicate just as emphatically that you should believe him.

You paused for a moment and then offered Dean a half sad smile, “Sure Dean. You’re right. Besides, it doesn’t matter that much anyways.” You turned on your heels and went up the stairs to bed.

Sam and Dean watched you go up to your room with twin frowns on their faces.

“Good job there Dean. Really got through to her.” Sam said with a hard pat on Dean’s back and a shake of his head. “Women.”

————————————————-

The next morning, Dean came bounding down the stairs like a puppy at Christmas. “Sam! Sammy!”

Sam looked up from his book, that he had totally not spent the entire night reading through because of a strange obsession with the novel and the undying bookworm need to devour all things with pages.

“Dean. What’s got you so perky this morning?”

Dean froze misstep and made a face at Sam, “Dude. Never say “perky” like that again.” He then continued bounding into the kitchen happily humming away.

Sam frowned and followed him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter to study his brother. “.....you’re up to something.”

Dean just grinned.

“Alright. That’s it. Spill.”

“What?! A guy can’t be happy in the morning? Enjoy his coffee? Listen to the birds sing?”

“Not if that guy is you. No.” Sam crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes. “Spill it Dean.”

Dean simply wiggled his eyebrows and took a long sip from his fresh cup, just as the boys heard you coming down the stairs yourself.

“Hey boys.” You yawned, wiping your face and throwing you hair lazily up into a messy bun.

“[Y/N], Hey.” Sam muttered. He glanced over at his brother and saw the mischievous gleam brighten. Oh boy. This wasn’t good.

“Sammy boy, me and [Y/N] are goin to head out this morning, I found a case in the town next over.” Dean suddenly proclaimed. The grin on his face growing even bigger, if possible.

“Wait. WHAT?” You and Sam squeaked in unison.

“Awww, they’re so adorable when they talk at the same time.” Dean sighed, amusement clear on his face.

“Dean, why are just you and [Y/N] going? What are you hunting? When did you find out about this case?” Sam quizzed his brother, horrified. This was definitely part of the something bad.

“One: it’s a two man job and I don’t want to initiate a divorce between you and your novel. Two: there’s a vampire killing people. And three: I found out about it last night. Now! [Y/N]! You got...” Dean quickly checked his watch, “fifteen minutes to finish getting ready! Chop! Chop!”

You and Sam stared at him for a minute. He was DEFINITELY up to something. You narrowed your eyes at him and sighed, shrugging your shoulders. You always did like doing things on-the-fly. “What the hell. But you owe me a slice of pie for indulging you.”

You ran back up the stairs as Sam started sputtering at Dean.

“This?! THIS is your plan??”

“Don’t worry Sammy. We’re not ACTUALLY going to be going out on a hunt...”

“Dean. I swear you’re going to give me an aneurism someday.” Sam groaned as he fell back onto the couch.

Dean just smirked and ran off to grab his bag.

“Definitely an aneurism.” Sam sighed and covered his face with his hands. “Well, maybe he’ll finally tell her he loves her and we can resolve all this pent up sexual tension.” He mumbled through his hands.

———————————

You kept glancing over at Dean every five minutes. A Bonjovi tape was blaring loudly, your favorite, not his, and while you both had been on the road for half an hour, he had yet to bring up the case. He was just chatting away merrily while you glanced at him suspiciously.

“Alright Dean. I know we’re not actually going on a hunt, so could you please tell me where we’re really going? And also, why are we listening to Bonjovi??? You never listen to more than one or two of there songs at a time cause they only ‘rock on occasion’.”

Dean blinked and looked over at you, the big smile dropping from his face. “But... I thought you liked Bonjovi...” His big puppy eyes wide.

You groaned internally, damn he was adorable. “No, I LOVE Bonjovi.” His smile came back immediately. “I just know that you don’t.... why are you being so nice?”

Dean shifted in his seat, “Well... you just seemed upset last night.....and I -uh- wanted to cheer you up!”

Before you could answer, he pulled off on a side road, rolled down Baby’s windows.... and gunned it. You let loose a squeak as he sped off down the dirt road with “Livin’ on a Prayer” blaring loudly against your eardrums.

The wind whipped your hair every which way, and you started laughing loudly with adrenaline-filled glee.

Dean looked over at you and started laughing himself as you began shouting out the lyrics over the roaring wind as the car flew down the road.

After about ten minutes, Dean spun the Impala into a 180 and came to an abrupt stop. “Time to go!” Checking his watch again as he jumped out.

You followed him, still laughing at his bizarre behavior, as he raced over to a nearby ledge.

“Dean!” You called breathlessly. “What are you doing?!”

He looked down below him and then gave you a shit-eating grin, “well, you said last night your date was boring.... I didn’t want to make the same mistake.”

You stepped up beside him and looked over the ledge. A few feet below you was a railroad track...... and a mile away was a train coming straight for you both.

“Hold up. Are we TRAIN HOPPING?!?!”

He laughed again and grabbed your hand, leaning over to whisper in your ear as the train approached, “I will never give you a reason to call me boring...”

And with that..... You and Dean jumped. Onto the top of the MOVING train.

You screamed as you both flew into the air and Dean groaned as he banged into the metal roof, breaking your fall.

The wind was roaring now, and you both gripped tightly to the top of the train car as it sped down the track like Hell in wheels.

“This is insane!! YOU are insane!” You yelled at Dean.

He gripped you tighter and turned his now slightly bruised face to look at you. “You’re welcome!”

—————————————-

You two traveled on the back of the train for a long time before it finally came to a stop, and Dean carefully helped you both slide off. You thought that’d be it. But this was Dean Winchester that you were with. OF COURSE there would be more!

As soon as you were both off the train, he took off again. “Hurry up slow-poke! Or you’re getting left behind!” He called over his shoulder.

You shook your head and chased him down the road.

Somehow, you both ended up in a bar. And somehow, Dean ended up putting on some music on the jukebox, and SOMEHOW, you both ended up dancing together.

THAT was trippy. Dean Winchester couldn’t dance, but that didn’t seem to sway him in the slightlest. He twirled you around and pretended like he knew what he was doing, while you both kept cracking up and tripping over each other’s feet. Finally, it go to the point where the bartender had to kick you both out because you were making such a ruckus.

Then there was something involving a cow, a slingshot and some pigeons. Still not sure what happened there. And one crazy thing led to another. Every time you thought that’d be it, Dean would come up with some new insane idea to do next.

By the time you made it back, there was more train hopping involved in the return trip, you were both exhausted bruised, and there was even a couple bandages needed.

“Well?” Dean asked as he sat next to you on Bobby’s porch. “Did you have a good day today?” He cocked a disarming smile, “were you bored?”

You laughed at this as you took the slice of pie Dean handed you. “No. I was definitely not bored.” You said quietly, glancing over at Dean almost shyly. “Thank you.”

Dean was quiet for a minute before he turned and gave you a peck on the cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day [Y/N].”

You blushed furiously as you dug into your pie.

“You know, normal people are so... normal. I mean, not even getting stuck in the middle of a gang fight or getting a slight concussion from landing on a moving train, what kind of date even is that?” Dean chuckled, “it’s nice to remember that there are people out there who are just as crazy as you.” He looked over at you with something suspiciously like tenderness in his eyes, “someone you don’t have to pretend with. Someone who you can just be yourself around”. He quickly turned back to his empty plate blushing bright red.

You bit back a smile and leaned over to him, as you turned his chin towards you. Slowly, you brushed your lips against his and then passionately kissed him.

It only took a moment for him to respond, and after a few minutes you both pulled back.

You stared into his vibrant green eyes, and knew this was just the beginning of something.....amazing.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Dean Winchester.”

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furidojasutin · 5 years

Text

Title: Valentine’s package

Pairing: Fraxus

Universe: Canon

Rating: M

a/n: Lmao so here I did it djwkf Inspiration behind this; me randomly thinking abt Freed eating Laxus’ ass one morning while supposed to be thinking about work and what I would be writing for them for Valentine’s day. And then @wyntersmusearsenal came along and was like ‘why not both in one??’ yes I’m tagging you in this mate so here we are h a h! Enjoy lmao djwfj I also wrote a kinda fluffy Valentine’s oneshot for them tho and posted it already

Tag Squad: @isbwvyja, @yellingschmetterling, @pleasantflowersheep, @icy-dancer, @myshipsaretruelove, @juvia-deserved-to-be-a-lesbian, @mdelpin, @1-lost-fander

Each touch of Freed's lips against his spine alighted a spark in Laxus' body. Every nerve that got stimulated by those feather-light kisses his mate was alluring him with set a fire deep within him. God, this felt heavenly.

Laxus had his eyes closed as he laid there on the king-sized bed that belonged to Freed and him. All tension had seeped out of his shoulders and no more strain could be found in any of his limbs.

As Freed made his way down along his back, the dragon slayer didn't bother suppressing the quiet noises of pleasure these light but absolutely effective touches earned the rune mage. His dick was caught between his own body and the mattress, and he wasn't ashamed to admit that he'd grown hard already by the time Freed had started touching him in a promising manner. He wasn't ashamed to admit that Freed had this effect on him.

Laxus felt how his lover's lips curved against his skin when he arched his lower body towards the given touches, bending towards them naturally.

“More of those?“ Freed asked, a knowing but loving touch to his deep voice. The green-haired man smiled before pressing a longer-lasting kiss to a lower part of the broader man's spine and he clearly indulged in the lingering sigh it got him.

“Feels amazin',“ Laxus growled softly, admittedly having a hard time not moving in any way. On the other hand it was so damn relaxing to be spoiled by the man he loved. His grown cock was itching, yearning for the touch of Freed's strong hands, skillfull mouth or anything else his lover was willing to give to him.

He could smell his own arousal. And he could smell Freed's, and the scent was almost mouth-watering. It made not moving even harder.

The sudden, determined grasp on his waist distracted him. Laxus blinked his eyes open and looked back over his shoulder just to be met with that kind of gaze that told him that Freed had something particular in mind.

Laxus didn't ask, only followed the next silent instructions Freed was giving him. He shifted a little, groaning when the rune mage let his tongue travel along his sensitive spine. It had him shiver under the other's touch, another uncontrolled moan spilling from his lips. God this was so simple but so good. The sparks of pleasure tingled all the way down to his groin, his cock twitching again.

“I like those sounds,“ Freed mused, an almost non-existent chuckle swinging in his voice. Having Laxus sprawled out before him, under him like this was nothing short of mesmerizing.

The dragon slayer just gave a grunt of approval and he felt heat seep into his cheeks when he shifted his position a little more.

His head was now further pressing into the pillow, his legs bent and his ass raised up in the air a little. This didn't come as a surprise; they had talked about this earlier, it’s part of why their shower had been as thorough as it had, and both his mind and body had been looking forward to this.

The first time Freed had done this to him was strange, then a mind-blowing experience. It shouldn't have surprised him with how many sensitive nerves there were, but it had still been a little embarrassing to realize how whiny and needy this act could get him; it was a different needy than the others. But it was the same thing with Freed and he absolutely loved the unashamedly panting, needy mess that his lover turned into when he did the same thing to him in return.

God it was glorious.

His focus was now on Freed's wandering hands as they made their way down along Laxus' sides. The only friction his cock has had was gone, with room between his body and the mattress now, and he growled when Freed purposefully stroked along his inner thighs and dug his fingers into them briefly.

He couldn't do anything without a little teasing, could he?

But Laxus didn't mind. Hell he didn't, even if it drove him mad sometimes. And sometimes, him going wild was exactly what Freed wanted to achieve with it.

Though not right now.

Freed's hands grabbed his ass and squeezed it a bit. Soft, rich skin against calloused palms. Laxus couldn't help emitting another grunt and he tried to relaxe into the posture, hands grabbing at the bedsheet beneath him.

The bed shifted beneath him when the rune mage moved his own position so he was kneeling right behind him and Laxus waited for any other touch to him.

He didn't have to wait for long.

Without a warning he felt teeth dig into the smooth flesh of one of his ass cheeks. Laxus growled at the sharp touch, his frame shivering softly. Freed's nose brushed along his skin and he allowed himself to close his eyes again. Freed and all the sensation he brought along was everything he needed.

Laxus swore that he could feel his lover smirk against his butt cheek for a moment and he huffed, a silent smile appearing on his face.

More or less hidden nervousness had been involved the first time Freed had started touching his ass like this. There was still a bit nervousness now, except that it was much more like nervous anticipation because he knew that something great would follow. It was the same great nervous anticipation and excitement he always felt when Freed and him got intimate.

Freed's warm lips spread kisses all over his ass cheeks, leaving out his butt crack and entrance purposefully yet. Only the smooth, full flesh got caressed for now and Laxus found himself giving a raspy sigh. The kisses left all the way down his spine had already stimulated him immensely, and all of this was making his heart beat hard in his chest with the increasing pleasure.

The rune mage took his time, though. Laxus felt as though Freed made sure to mark every single spot of his ass cheeks with his lips, giving gentle nips to the soft skin inbetween that had him shift and twitch.

Freed's hands stroked up and down along his sides. Sometimes they'd swerve to his legs but never touching his hard cock or sensitive testicles. Not yet.

The quiet sounds of the kisses left on his skin were swaying in the air like a gentle breeze, occasionally mixing with the yet restrained sounds of Laxus' growing need.

“Did I ever tell you that you have a quite nice... posterior?“

Laxus blinked his eyes open; the orange color had gone hazy with lust. He heard the amusement in Freed's voice and turned his head to look back at his man. “That's a gallant word to use for someone who's doing what yer doing right now.“

Freed emitted a brief, deep laugh. Laxus loved the sound.

“I'm teasing.“

“I know you are,“ the dragon slayer snorted and let his head plop down on the pillow again, grinning. “But yea, ya did tell me.“

“Tell you what?“ Freed purred, teeth playfully sinking into Laxus' skin again and the blond growled.

“That I have a great ass.“

“Oh yes, you do indeed have a great ass, Laxus.“

The blond shivered when Freed ran his devilish tongue along his butt crack. Laxus exhaled, eyelids fluttering shut again. Freed's hands had cupped his cheeks again and squeezed them before spreading them apart a little.

Drips of saliva where deliberately dropped on his skin and Freed kept teasing his butt crack with the tip of his tongue. Laxus' body shuddered. He was so damn turned on and he was so damn ready for this.

A groan slipped past his lips when Freed rubbed a wetted finger along his butt crack and brushed his anus. He groaned again when Freed inserted the finger in his ass and his shoulders tensed for a moment before there was a shuddery exhale. “Hggn..-“

His mate began thrusting his finger in and out in a slow, considerate motion and it had Laxus shift against it naturally. The ragged breath he heard coming from his mate didn't help his own arousal and he gave another moan of approval in response. A slow movement after another and it already drove Laxus crazy even though it was part of the foreplay. He wanted Freed to finger fuck him hard right there and the same time he was craving his tongue prove its accurate and fucking magical movements inside his ass.

Freed had made sure to use a bit more saliva inbetween and just as though he was able to read Laxus' mind, the rune mage pulled out his by now two fingers and cupped the dragon slayer's butt cheeks again.

Laxus barely noticed himself beginning to pant. His shoulders had gone just a little tense and he felt like he forgot to breathe for a second there when suddenly he uttered an unashamed exhale.

With his ass cheeks spread apart, Freed's tongue had been circling around his entrance before he pushed the tip inside. Laxus dug fingernails into the bed sheet. “Oh- Oh shit-“

He vaguely heard Freed groan, all his senses occupied and his testicles already feeling a bit strained. Drops of his own precum had already smeared along the sheets but he was still smelling his lover's arousal as well and it was driving him mad.

Laxus raised his head, wanting to look back at his man, but dropped it right away when Freed's tongue pushed inside as far as he could reach, Freed's nose buried between his cheeks.

“Fuck!“ The dragon slayer buried his face in the pillow with a needy moan. Fuck, this was too good. Freed's tongue was too fucking magical and that wasn't an overstatement.

This tongue was doing dirty, amazing magic on him. The way it moved against so many nerves and pushed inside and out was too strangely satisfying to explain. But Laxus didn't care about explanations anyway; his lover was eating his ass and it felt so fucking good.

He heard Freed growl and then the rune mage grabbed his ass cheeks a little firmer. Beginning to pant harder, Laxus shook his head with the pleasure overcoming him. Wanton moans kept spilling from his lips, his own tongue running over them to wet them.

“Feels good?“

Not only Laxus was panting. The dragon slayer could hear the rough edge to Freed's deep voice and he could just imagine how he was affecting his lover with his reactions and the way Freed was pleasing him. Gods.

“Hgnn, fuck yes-“

Rash kisses were spread all over his ass again and the suddenly the rune mage inserted one of his fingers into him again. Laxus bent his body towards the movement and moaned, broad muscles shuddering beautifully.

Laxus felt his legs become less steady and his dick felt like it was going to burst any second. Freed kept fingering him. He knew just how and when to curl his finger to drag the most delicious moans from the broad dragon slayer and Laxus didn't mind serving them.

Not that he did much thinking right then and there.

Especially not when Freed added his skillful tongue to the game again. The rune mage licked along his right ass cheek, then withdrew his finger to let his tongue do the penetration again. He stuck it inside as deep as possible and Laxus bent his body again, welcoming the thrusts and circling of his mate's tongue.

He heard Freed moan again and he heard a heavy breath. His own mind became dizzier and dizzier with the pure pleasure clouding it. A sound that almost rivalled a whine escaped Laxus before he buried his face in the pillow again, legs shaking.

By God, he swore he was just about to come when suddenly Freed held a tight grip around the head of his hard cock.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Laxus groaned and Freed gave a breathy chuckle. “Not yet, babe.“

His cock was twitching and Laxus growled. When he turned his head lazily, occupied by the pleasure sparking through his body, he felt like he would've come a second time immediately. The heated look Freed was giving him was so fucking sexy.

Both of the men released a shuddery exhale seemingly in unison. Freed released Laxus' cock again after a few short moments and then shifted so he could lean in towards his boyfriend. Laxus, giving a similar sound and returning the heated look, shifted as well to support himself on his forearms and turn his head.

Their faces only inches apart now, they were about to join for a passionate, open-mouthed kiss when suddenly a noise disturbed the movement.

What?!

Laxus and Freed froze, then their heads turned towards Laxus' phone that was resting atop the bedside cabinet.

With an annoyed growl the dragon slayer glared down the item. Fuck! It had ruined the moment!

Not that this had never happened before as they kind of had to be contactable most of the time but still...

His breath was still unsteady, his thoughts a mess and Laxus had to collect himself for a moment before dragging a palm down his own face. Then he reached for his phone with a growl – the ringing just wouldn't stop – and looked at the display. His grandpa.

Really, old man?!

Laxus gave an annoyed sigh, only glaring at the screen that showed his grandpa's name.

“Do you have to answer that?“ Freed asked, voice calm although a little unsteady in its tone as well.

Laxus just sighed again, thick brows furrowed hard. “He's doing this on purpose I swear.“ He loved his grandpa. He really did. But honestly! Freed denying his first orgasm was fine but cockblocked by his old man? Hell no, he could do without that.

As Freed slid above his body Laxus could feel the entirety of his mate's gloriously erected size slowly pressing against his backside, and it took some effort of him not to emit an encouraging groan. It was then that his boyfriend lowered his head as well, strands of green hair tickling his shoulders as Freed rested his weight on him and he huffed with a new grin. “You comfortable?“

“Mh-hm.“ Freed emitted a hum, the sound drowned out by the noise of the ring tone, and then pressed his lips to the curve of Laxus' neck. It earned him a quiet sound of approval before they both looked at the lacrima phone that was resting before them on the bed now.

“Well then...“

Here goes, Laxus thought, and finally accepted the call after what felt like an eternity.

“Hello brats, are you enjoying your evening?“ Makarov greeted them in a cheery voice and Laxus was just glad that he hadn't video called them.

The blond huffed, trying to sound as annoyed as possible. “Whaddya want, old man?“

Makarov went straight ahead. “I just wanted to see if you two lovebirds are enjoying your Valentine's Day. Freed's still with you, isn't he?“

Laxus could practically hear his grandpa's grin and he wanted to curse him for it right now. Feeling Freed's curved lips against his neck made it better and worse at the same time.

“Yea, he is. And we are, thanks.“ Laxus rolled his eyes at the chuckle from the other side of the phone. “Anything else ya needed?“

“Ah, no no. I just wanted to hear how my brats are doing. It's good you have each other.“ There was a pause in which Laxus wanted to say goodbye. He just needed this phone call to end quickly so Freed and him could continue where they left off. But then Makarov spoke again and his voice had that slightly higher, teasing tone in it. “Remember, I need you both in best shape for the mission tomorrow. Don't overdo it.“

The dragon slayer furrowed his eyebrows again, face heating up just slightly with a mixture of both, the fact that obviously his damn old man knew them better than they thought (or it was just a tease, or a lucky guess) and the exasperation that he had interrupted them just to say this.

“Don't overdo what-“ Laxus wanted to growl into the phone, perhaps a little too loudly and a little too enthusiastically, when Makarov hung up already.

Then there was silence for a moment. Freed's face had heated up in a similar manner. Laxus put his phone away and began to grumble. “Damn old man.“

His boyfriend didn't respond immediately. Laxus felt how Freed shifted his weight before he let his lips linger against his shoulder blade.

Laxus just sighed and tried to relax into the touch again. It was always so easy when he was with him. He definitely needed to return this favor after they were done here – Freed was doing all the work right now.

As the rune mage pressed his lower body against him he could feel his grown cock against his ass and that had Laxus groan again. His own cock was begging for attention still, beginning to make itself felt stronger again now that it was just the two of them once more.

Laxus let his head sink into the pillow, and Freed began a new journey along his backside. Lips brushed against the skin, sucking and biting and brushing, and Laxus grunted longingly. “Fuck, I can't take one more interruption. Can't take one more denial.“

Freed chuckled at that, hunger returned to his eyes. He let his lips linger at a single spot, making sure that Laxus felt how they curled into a mischievous smile before he whispered. “Well... I believe there's still a great ass and much more that I haven't given enough attention yet.“

And the raunchy tone to Freed's voice was a fucking sexy promise. With a teeth-baring growl, Laxus curved his body towards his man's touches.

Yea, he was definitely gonna return all the attention later on and he didn't care how long their night was gonna get.

No more interruptions.

Just them.

#I kinda forgot abt the challenge to make this seem romantic AF but WELP LMA O #fraxus #fairy tail #freed justine #laxus dreyar #Long live the Queue #smut #my stuff #freed x laxus #makarov dreyar #Sel writes

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