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forzalando · 3 years

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Flustered | Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x F!Reader Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: mentions of underage drinking and alcohol, tickling, making out Summary: Your flirty friendship with Fred Weasley comes to a resolution after an argument surrounding the Yule Ball that took place all those years ago.

A/N: hi friends! this is a Fred Weasley fic based on a tik tok i saw last night (all credit for the bolded line goes to the creator of the tik tok). also thank you to @gcdric for discussing this with me very late last night, i hope it turned out well omg i’m NERVOUS. anyway! off we go. please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist! i’m updating it since i was on hiatus for awhile! love you guys!

As you sat on the couch of the Burrow, your eyes fixated on the many pictures in the Weasley’s living room, your mind began to drift off with thoughts of the freckled, red-headed boy sat in front of you giggling with his siblings.

There was something extraordinarily special about your friendship with Fred Weasley. After ten plus years of him being the most important person in your life, ever since your first day at Hogwarts when he tripped over your robes as you and your fellow first years hurried into the Sorting Ceremony, you couldn’t imagine life without him.

You had been through so much together; every Hogwarts experience there was to be had, first kisses, first heartbreaks, the Second Great Wizarding War, he was by your side through everything.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N? You look to be thinking entirely too hard for my liking,” Fred sassed, breaking you out of your trance.

“Too hard for your liking?” you retaliated. “What do you care what I’m thinking about?”

“It’s supposed to be a relaxing weekend! You’re much too deep in thought to be relaxing, so of course I care.”

“Well, if you must know, I was thinking about you, Freddie.”

“Carry on then, love. I’ve always wished for your thoughts to be consumed by me.”

With a cheeky wink, Fred went back to a game of exploding snap and you didn’t need to watch to know that Ginny was absolutely kicking his arse. However, you didn’t miss the sly smile that George gave you when Fred’s attention was diverted from you.

It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to flirt with one another. In fact, you would dare to say it was the most predominant form of communication between the two of you. There was the occasional time or two where you thought that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same, but he’d always look away quickly or press a kiss to your cheeks instead of your lips, laughing it off as the two of you caught up in a moment that would cross a line that could never be crossed, though you so desperately wanted to.

After another round of exploding snap, Ginny said her goodbyes and apparated back to her flat, but not before promising that she wouldn’t miss anymore family dinners for quidditch practice, which you knew would happen inevitably but smiled nonetheless at her enthusiasm. You’d been a regular appearance at the weekly get-together for as long as you could remember, you were practically part of the family so you could say with appropriate accuracy that Ginny definitely missed dinner more than all of her siblings combined due to her busy schedule.

“Well, I suppose it’s time for us to head back as well,” George mused, eyeing the leftover pies in the kitchen. “Are you staying at ours tonight, Y/N?”

“I’d love nothing more. Besides, I didn’t get to play Fred in exploding snap and I want to knock his ego down just a little bit more.”

George linked arms with you and Fred, laughing about his brother’s awful skills as you apparated to their flat above the shop.

You’d spent many a nights at the twins’ flat over the past couple of years. After the war, you had moved in for a while until you found a job and managed to rent your own place. But, they never got rid of your bed that took up a large corner of their living room, which came in handy after weekly Weasley dinners when you just wanted to spend a bit more time with your favorite boys.

“I’m absolutely knackered,” George said once the three of you had settled on the couch. “I think I might go to bed now, if I’m honest. Besides, I want to be up early to work on those new design sketches for the storefront.”

“George Weasley, you have never gotten up before 10 o’clock on a Sunday in your entire life,” you scoffed.

“There’s a first for everything, Y/N. Goodnight to you and Freddie!”

As George turned away from you both, he faked a yawn and when he was sure Fred wasn’t looking, winked back at you to further confirm your suspicion that he wanted you to be alone with Fred.

He had just about had enough of the tension between you both and took every chance he got to get the two of you alone, by any means necessary.

When you heard George’s bedroom door close, you noticed Fred scoot closer to you on the couch until your legs were touching. He slung his arm over your shoulders and you swung your legs up to lay across his lap.

“What were you thinking about earlier? While Gin and I were playing by the fireplace?” Fred wondered aloud.

“Oh, I was looking at all the pictures on the walls at your Mum and Dad’s. I saw one from you and George’s first day at Hogwarts and I was thinking about how we first met.”

“Hmm, so you were thinking about one of the most embarrassing moments in my life?”

“Please, you’ve done much, much worse. Remember that time in our sixth year when you tried to outdrink George after we won the Slytherin match and you – ”

“Ah, ah, ah, I thought we agreed to never speak of that incident again,” Fred said as he visibly shuddered.

“I was just pointing out that I can think of quite a few moments that were far more embarrassing than tripping on my robes.”

“You’re one to talk! Don’t you remember our fifth year when you and George were running from Filch and you knocked Wood to the ground? Bloody broke his arm, you were so lucky Madame Pomfrey had him fixed up before our next match or he would’ve had a heart attack.”

A loud laugh escaped your lips as you covered your face in embarrassment; that was the year you had followed Oliver around like a lost puppy, although your schoolgirl crush paled in comparison to how you’d felt for Fred back then and now as well but neither twin would ever let you live it down.

“Do you remember the Yule Ball? When Flitwick caught you trying to spike the punch and you slipped and fell in the middle of the dance floor?” You chuckled at the memory, even if the Yule Ball was an event you had tried to forget.

“You were so mad at me that night and the whole week before, I was terribly distracted. If we had been on good terms I would’ve gotten away with it and the slipping never would have happened.”

“Well, it’s your own fault we were fighting! I still can’t believe you didn’t ask me to go with you.”

“Oi, it’s not my fault when you never said you wanted me to ask you.”

“I thought I had made it painfully obvious when I asked you every morning at breakfast if you’d found a date yet and told you that I didn’t have one either.”

Fred threw his head back and laughed, the thought of your shocked face when he had asked Angelina was too priceless a memory to ever forget.

“You were so jealous,” Fred mumbled.

“Jealous?!” you screeched. “I wasn’t jealous, I was annoyed that I had to spend all night with some Durmstrang tosser stepping on my toes. We’ve had this argument literally a million times.”

“No, you were definitely jealous. You shot poor Angie daggers the whole night and she’s such a lovely girl.”

“I shot her daggers because she hogged you and I didn’t get to dance with my best friend a single time at the only Ball we ever had at school.”

“I would’ve asked you to dance if you weren’t mad at me, and you know she was only dancing with me to make George jealous, even if he was oblivious.”

You smiled at that; you knew Angelina only had eyes for George and that going with Fred was some elaborate ruse. Shockingly, it ended up working, and he and Angelina have been together ever since.

“Still think you were jealous,” Fred challenged, poking you in the exact spot on your abdomen that he knew you were ticklish.

“Fred Weasley, for the last time, I was not jealous,” you emphasized as you poked him back.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, love,” he said lowly, a daring glint in his eye.

Never one to heed warnings or follow directions, you poked him again and within seconds he had you pinned underneath him on the couch, his fingers trailing up and down your sides as you couldn’t help but laugh boisterously beneath him.

“Fred – ” you gasped. “Freddie, please, I actually think I might pee on your couch.”

“Not until you admit you were jealous that I asked Angelina!”

You shook your head, the combination of laughter and trying to catch your breath kept you from firing back a witty remark.

After a few moments, you simply couldn’t take anymore and shouted out, “FINE. Fine, you win.”

“What was that, lovey? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I said, fine, I admit it. I was jealous that you asked Angelina when I wanted you to ask me,” you grumbled, struggling to catch your breath in between words.

“See, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You glared up at him and moved to push him off of you when you realized just how close his face was to yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could count each individual freckle splattered across his nose and cheeks. Almost instinctually, your eyes flickered down to his lips, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of staring, so you quickly looked away.

Fred noticed that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him and, in true Fred Weasley fashion, couldn’t resist a flirty joke.

“You really want to kiss me right now, don’t you?” Fred chuckled.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “yeah, I do.”

Surging forward, you pressed your lips to his and immediately wove your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. You were so tired; tired of the constant flirting and feeling as if you would forever have to love him from afar while he lived his life blissfully unaware of how much it hurt you to hide how you felt.

His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him; the raw emotion in the way he desperately kissed you left little doubt in your mind that he had wanted this for as long as you had. His hands slipped under your shirt and his fingers blazed a trail of fire up your spine; a breathy moan escaped your lips but Fred swallowed the sound with his mouth, deepening the kiss and pulling you even closer.

A scream from behind the couch caused you to jump apart, chests heaving and hair sticking up every possible way. You sat up to look over the back of the couch to see George Weasley, looking visibly shaken and guilty, with his hands covering his eyes.

“Oh my god, I leave you alone for thirty minutes and you’re about to shag on my bloody couch. Jesus, ok, let me just, uh, well, I’ve probably ruined the mood, haven’t I?”

“George,” you hissed. “What are you doing sneaking around, I thought you were going to bed?!”

“Yeah, I said I was,” he said sheepishly as he uncovered his eyes, “but I might have been eavesdropping on your conversation. When I heard it go all quiet, I thought I’d come out and see if you two fools had fallen asleep, but clearly, that was not the case.”

“Eavesdropping? I swear to Merlin, George, you’re a ten year old boy. I can’t believe you! Of all the immature and invasive things to do, my God.”

“Well, pardon me, I just wanted to see if my idiot brother would finally grow some balls and tell you he’s in love with you!”

“I’m not sure what you’re on about but that doesn’t mean you can just sneak up on people,” you chided. “Fred, would you please back me up here, what is wrong with you – ”

You turned around to pull Fred into the argument only to find him sitting on top of the coffee table with a dazed look in his eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Fred, are you alright?” you asked worriedly.

He slowly lifted his head and looked into your eyes; you could see just how flushed his face was now that he wasn’t staring at the floor and good Godric, he was as red as the hair on his head.

“I…I…You,” he stammered. “You kissed me?”

“Yes, I suppose that is what happened,” you muttered sheepishly.

“Y/N Y/L/N…you…you kissed me?”

“Freddie, what the hell is the matter with you?”

George burst into laughter and you whirled back around to glare at him, however, this time, he didn’t hush up like he usually did.

“Like I said before, he’s in love with you, and now he can’t even form a coherent sentence because you kissed him, this is golden. Ol’ cock sure Freddie, a pile of mush because of a little makeout sesh, I’ve got to send an owl to Lee…” George trailed off as he turned and rushed back towards his bedroom.

You took another look at Freddie and smiled at the lovestruck look on his face. He was shaking his head in his hands and you saw the redness on his neck as well, which only happened when he was well and truly flustered.

“This is so humiliating,” he groaned as you sat down next to him.

“I think it’s rather cute, if that makes you feel any better,” you said as you chuckled and placed a hand on his thigh.

He removed his head from his hands and looked at you adoringly, the giddy smile on his face ignited butterflies in your stomach and your heart beat wildly in your chest.

“All the times I imagined how this would pan out…it definitely wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I mean, not that I’m mad about it, it was incredibly sexy how you just grabbed me and kissed me, but I wasn’t supposed to be a bumbling fool afterwards.”

A moment of silence washed over the both of you as Fred intertwined your hands and steadily held your gaze.

“George was right, you know. I am in love with you. Have been for quite a long time, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, in the spirit of honesty, I guess I should say that I’m in love with you too.”

“Bloody brilliant,” he sighed as he leaned in to kiss you again, but you stopped him just before your lips touched.

“You’re not going to pass out or anything if we kiss again, are you?”

“No promises, love, but I’ll try my best.”

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#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley oneshot #lumosbarnes #tw: alcohol

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

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Adventures in Cat Sitting

Synopsis: Tom is not a cat person, but watches your cat anyway

Masterlist

“Hi baby.” You appeared in the doorway of the living room with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a nervous smile on your face. You had a big favor to ask of Tom and you already knew he wasn’t going to like it.

“Hi princess.” Tom sat up on the couch and noticed your face. “You look like you need something.”

“I might.” You shrugged as you sat down on his lap. He immediately wrapped his arms around you to keep you from falling off, clasping his hands together under your spine.

“Let me see if I can help you.” He chuckled as he tugged you closer by the blanket.

“So you know how I have to go away this week for my cousins wedding?” You began, slow as not to startle him.

“Yeah. I miss you already.” He pouted, making you laugh and kiss his lips.

“I miss you too, lover.” You ran your fingers though his hair. “So I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Anything, Princess.” He smiled lazily at you. “What do you need?”

You tugged at his shirt for a moment and avoided eye contact, shrugging a little as if you hadn’t been planning this for days.

“Ineedyoutowatchmycat.” You said quickly.

“What?” Tom furrowed his eyebrows when he didn’t understand you.

“I need you to watch my cat?” You grimaced, finally looking at him. You knew how Tom felt about your cat from the many, many times he told you.

He wasn’t a cat person. Not at all. And your cat in particular seemed to be his sworn enemy. They never got along and you often had to hide him in another room when Tom was over.

“You mean he’s not going to be guarding the pits of hell?” Tom tilted his head in confusion, making you roll your eyes.

“He is not that bad.” You insisted. “You can survive a few days with him.”

“Uh Uh.” Tom shook his head firmly. “You know how I feel about cats. That’s my least favorite kind of pussy.”

Your jaw dropped as he laughed at his own joke, stopping when you smacked his arm.

“Don’t get fresh.” You scolded. “I just need you to watch my cat for a few days.”

“You don’t have a cat.” Tom disagreed. “You have whatever Pandora let out of her box.”

“Oatmeal is really sweet once he warms up to you.” You told him. “You haven’t spent enough time with him to do that.”

“Because every time I get close to him, he hisses at me.” Tom exclaimed.

“Not every time.” You said pointedly. “Just most times.”

“Can’t you put him in the kennel?” Tom whined, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this.

“He’s not social and I haven’t found one I like.” You pouted, putting on puppy dog eyes to sway him.

“So drop it off in the forest for a few days and let it get some life experience.” Tom shrugged, earning himself another playful smack.

“Tom.” You groaned. “He’ll die out there.”

“We can only hope.” Tom mumbled under his breath.

“I think this will be good for you guys.” You ignored his comment. “You’re the two most important men in my life and I need you to get along.”

“How am I possibly on the same level as that heathen?” Tom held a hand over his chest like he was offended.

“I love you both so much and it kills me that you don’t get along.” You whined, stroking his cheek to pull him back.

“We’d get along just fine if he wasn’t such a bastard.” Tom snapped, making you gasp.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call my cat a bastard?” You asked. This was a conversation you had had many times as it was Toms preferred nickname for you cat. Tom shrunk down on the couch and looked at the ceiling as he blew out an annoyed huff.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“This could be good for us too.” You assured him. “Watching a pet is an integral part in any relationship. I’m giving you all my trust.”

“You’re not giving me your trust.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’re giving me your fat ass demon cat.”

“Come on, please baby?” You jutted yourself bottom lip out. “Oatmeal might grow on you.”

“Aw. Like genital warts?” Tom smiled sarcastically.

“No.” You said flatly. “Not like genital warts.”

“Why do I have to watch him?” Tom complained like a child. “Why can’t you just leave him in a box with some food and water?”

“Would you like that if I did that to you?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“If there was alcohol in the box, then yeah.” He shrugged. “I might just enjoy myself.”

You realized you weren’t getting anywhere and pulled away from him with a new approach ready.

“Fine.” You sighed and dramatically looked away. “If you don’t want to watch my cat, I’ll just have to find a boyfriend who will.”

You started to get up but Tom immediately pulled you back, making you giggle as he held on firmly. He had finally caved and you knew it.

“Woah woah wait.” He nuzzled into your neck and left kisses there before sighing. “I’ll watch your bastard child.”

“You’ll what?” You texted him.

“I’ll watch your precious fur baby.” He said through a fake smile. You twisted your body and wrapped your arms around him, kissing every inch of his face you could reach.

“Thank you.” You gushed. “You’re a life saver.”

“You’re welcome, darling.” He chuckled as he lovingly rubbed your back. “You better remember this if I ever need a kidney.”

“I don’t think the two things carry equal weight.” You tilted your head playfully and laughed.

“They don’t.” He agreed. “You’re welcome for letting you off easy.”

Rolling your eyes at your boyfriend, you decided not to fight back since he was doing you a favor. Instead, you opted for kissing him long and deep to show your appreciation.

“Thanks for doing this.” You mumbled against his lips. “I know you don’t like cats so I appreciate it. I owe you one.”

“Mind if I collect my toll now?” Tom smirked as he flipped you onto your back, making you laugh loudly.

“Not at all.”

Sunday

“This is his food.” You handed Tom a pink bag with whiskers stitched on. “He gets two cups a day, dry at morning and wet at night. He won’t eat unless you scratch him behind the ears after you put it in his bowl.”

“I’m not putting my hands anywhere near that thing.” Tom shook his head as he took the bag. “It has a bloodlust.”

Oatmeal was nestled in your arms, staring at Tom with a vengeance. Tom stared back with wide eyes, already feeling his pulse quicken.

“No he does not.” You cooed as you scratched Oatmeal behind the ears. “Make sure to keep an eye on his water bowl and never give him milk. It’s bad for his teeth.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want him losing his razor sharp little death traps.” Tom said sarcastically, seemingly speaking directly to the cat. “If he bites me, I’ll bite him right back.”

“Tom.” You sighed deeply. “I shouldn’t have to say this, but do not bite my cat.”

Oatmeal suddenly bared his teeth and hissed at Tom, making Tom gasp.

“Did you hear what he just said to me?” Tom exclaimed as he pointed to the cat.

“He’s just getting used to you, is all.” You shrugged as you set Oatmeal down on the ground. He took a careful step towards Tom before hissing again.

“He did it again!” Tom jumped into your arms in the style of Shaggy and Scooby. “He called me a slur.”

“No he didn’t.” You laughed as you set Tom down. “His treats are in the bag. Only one a day and none if he’s naughty.”

“I didn’t realize he had a setting other than naughty.” Tom sassed your cat, making him hiss once again. Tom looked at you for help and you sighed.

“Hey, behave.” You scolded Oatmeal as you stroked him. “His toys are in the bag too. He gets pretty feisty with the fish on a string so don’t go near him when he’s playing with it.”

Oatmeal jumped up on a chair and leaned towards Tom, peering at him as if extended an olive branch. Tom looked at you and you nodded, encouraging him to reach out towards the animal. Oatmeal leaned forward and sniffed Tom’s hand before snapping at him. Tom jerked his hand back and cradled it, though he wasn’t actually bitten.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Tom said suddenly. “He’s gonna put a hex on me.”

“Tom, please?” You whined when he went back on his offer. “I have to leave now and there’s no one else who can take him.”

“Give him to one of your friends.” Tom whimpered as he hid behind you. “What about Stacy? Don’t you hate her?”

“All my friends are either allergic or coming on the trip with me.” You pleaded with him.

“There has to be someone else who can watch this hell beast.” Tom spat as he shot daggers at Oatmeal. You chewed your bottom lip as you thought of way to keep him on board until something came to you.

“Well, my ex watched him a couple times.” You shrugged casually as you picked Oatmeal back up. “Maybe I can call him and-“

“I’ll watch the damn cat.” Tom cut you off, always the jealous type. “Come here baby.”

He cooed and walked towards Oatmeal, who swiped at him with his claws.

“Ah! Bitch!” He screamed and jumped away from

“Are you sure?” You innocently batted your eyelashes. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to-“

“La la la la la.” Tom held his hands over his ears and sang loudly. “Enough about him. I’ll watch Oatmeal. It’s just two days right?”

“Four days.” You kept a smile on your face so you wouldn’t worry him.

“Four days?” He gasped. “How many people is she getting married to?”

“Just one. Who knows? If this goes well, maybe she’ll be flying out to my wedding soon.” You flirted as you held his chin between your fingers. This pulled a smile out of Tom, making him walk to you and wrap his arms around you. You fitted your face into the crook of his neck and left a kiss there, taking in your last few moments with him before you left.

“I’ll miss you, princess.” He mumbled as he rubbed soft circles onto your back.

“I’ll miss you too.” You sighed, resting your chin on his shoulder. You pulled away after a long time and kissed him, letting it linger until you couldn’t breath. You patted his cheek softly before bending down and petting Oatmeal.

“Amd I’ll miss you Mr. Fluffy Pants.” You cooed as you picked him up. “Who has the fluffiest pants?”

“I believe that’s his feline obesity.” Tom said sweetly as he narrowed his eyes at your cat.

“Funny.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Don’t be late.” He pouted, feeling his heart sink as you collected your things. You noticed his forlorn demeanor and hugged him again, taking in the scent of his cologne.

“How could I stay away from my baby?” You mumbled into his ear. You pulled away and jutted your bottom lip out before smiling wickedly.

“And I’ll miss you too.” You added as you pulled away. Tom rolled his eyes at you while you opened his door.

“Hilarious.” He replied sarcastically. “I’m laughing my-“

The door shut.

“-ass off.” He said weakly as silence settled into his home. He let out a sigh as he stared at the door, the smell of your perfume still lingering on his skin. He hated being apart from you, even if it was just for a few days. Tom’s reminiscing was cut short by a hatch meow from the floor. Tom jumped, having forgotten all about the cat he had promised to watch. Oatmeal stalked over to Tom and sat down in front of him as if to mock him.

“Listen you little whore.” Tom pointed an angry finger at the car. “I’m in charge. There will be no shenanigans this week, you hear me? Not one single shenanigan. That means no scratching the furniture, no shedding, and absolutely no napping in sunbeams. And I swear to God, if you piss on my rug, I’ll kill you. I will kill you with my bare hands. You hear me?”

The silence in the room was replaced with tension as Oatmeal silently stared at Tom with narrowed eyes. Finally, he let out a soft meow.

“Shut up.” Tom jumped again. “I’ll kill you.”

Oatmeal took another step towards Tom, making Tom take a step back. Oatmeal seemed to like this and sat down again.

“Why are you staring at me?” Tom snapped. “Do you want to fight?”

Oatmeal lifted his paw and put it back down, almost like he was stamping his foot. He let out a whine and took another step towards Tom, meowing towards the bag you had given him.

“Oh. It’s 6.” Tom realized. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Oatmeal meowed again, louder this time.

“Don’t use that tone with me.” Toms voice cracked. “My beloved just left and I’m very sensitive right now.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to stare at him, silently judging Tom as he wiped away a tear. Tom composed himself quickly and went over to the bag you’d left, taking out Oatmeal’s pink bowls and bag of food. Oatmeal jumped up on the counter to watch Tom as he prepared the food, both of them sneaking glances at each other every once in a while. Tom stuck his tongue out at the cat before setting his food on the ground.

“Here you go, fatass.” Tom snapped, taking a step back when Oatmeal walked over to the bowl. Oatmeal sniffed the food skeptically before looking up at Tom as if he was waiting for something.

“I’m not scratching you behind the ears.” Tom scoffed with hands on his hips. “You’re not royalty.”

Oatmeal let out a howl and pawed at the bowl, demanding his ear scratches.

“Starve, then.” Tom shrugged. “See if I care.”

Oatmeal hissed at Tom, who responded with the middle finger. He kept his middle finger up and directed at Oatmeal as he walked out of the room, going into his bed room to calm down. After five minutes of thinking, he went back to the kitchen.

“After care consideration I’ve realized Y/n will break up with me if I kill her cat, which is fair.” Tom announced as he walked to Oatmeal. “That is why I’m doing this. Not because I care about you or your well-being.”

Oatmeal meowed softly and pawed at the bowl again, making Tom roll his eyes as he crouched down.

“Here are your little bitch scratches behind your little bitch ears.” Tom grumbled as he scratched the cat. Oatmeal purred in satisfaction before eating the entirety of his bowl. Tom backed away and watched him, smiling a little at how docile he seemed. He quickly wiped the smile off his face as Oatmeal finished and looked up at him.

“I need to call my brother about a script we’re writing, not that it’s any of your business.” Tom said as he looked at the floor. “Don’t bother me while I’m on the phone.”

Oatmeal didn’t pay any attention to Tom, instead busying himself with cleaning his left paw. Tom narrowed his eyes at the cat and huffed out an angry breath.

“Whatever. I know you care You just won’t admit it because you’re jealous.” Tom laughed bitterly as he stared daggers at Oatmeal. Oatmeal continued to ignore Tom as he began licking his other paw.

“You’re jealous that I have abs and you have a flabby cat tummy that drags on the floor.” Tom continued, determined to get the cats attention. “And we both know which one Y/n prefers.”

Oatmeal flicked his eyes to Tom before lifting a leg and licking his nether regions. Tom gasped and touched a hand to his chest in offense.

“You’re disgusting.” Tom spat. “I’m leaving.”

Tom turned on his heel and heard a meow from behind him as he walked away, resembling a taunting laugh.

“Don’t follow me!” Tom called once he got to his office. He sat down at his desk and rubbed his tired eyes before dialing his brother.

Forty minutes later, Tom and Harry were knee deep in their script. They had gotten to standstill, unable to come to an agreement with where to take the story.

“Right, right.” Tom nodded as he rested his chin in his hands. “I was thinking for - - oh for Gods sake.”

Tom’s attention was claimed by Oatmeal slipping in through the crack in the door, letting out a meow to announce his presence. Harry saw Tom’s jaw clench as he stared at the cat offscreen, leaning closer to the camera to get a better look.

“Was that a cat?” Harry asked as he watched his brother swat at something to his left.

“Hey!” Tom bellowed as Oatmeal jumped up on the desk. “No feet on the table!”

“Mate, who are you yelling at?” Harry tapped the screen repeatedly to get his brothers attention.

“Oatmeal.” Tom grumbled, jerking his neck at the cat as if to challenge him to a fight.

“Y/n’s cat?” Harry chuckled, knowing all about his brothers hatred of cats. “Why is he at your place?”

“Shes at her cousins wedding this week.” Tom pouted. “I told her I’d watch the furry bastard.”

“How’s that going?” Harry smiled teasingly, already having an idea of how it was going. Before Tom could answer, Oatmeal walked in front of his phone and knocked it down with his tail. He let out a proud purr as Tom picked his phone back up.

“Shut up!” He shrieked. “I’m on the phone!”

“Tom! Stop yelling at the cat.” Harry snapped his fingers at Tom. “I asked you how it was going.”

Tom tore his eyes away from Oatmeal, who had made himself comfortable in one of Tom’s desk drawers.

“Not great, man.” Tom shook his head. “Not great.”

Monday

“I’m home.” Tom announced as he walked into his front door. “Did you kill any children and eat their souls while I was gone?”

Oatmeal didn’t come to the door right away like a dog would, making Tom worry briefly. He set his grocery bags down and knelt to the ground, patting his thighs the way he would do to call Tessa. It’s not that Tom was dying to see him, he just didn’t want to be the guy who lost his girlfriends cat. Much to his relief, Oatmeal appeared from around the corner, the bell around his neck jingling.

“There you are.” Tom sighed as he stood up. “You look like shit.”

Oatmeal hissed and pranced over to the couch, stretching out his limbs in a sunbeam before laying down. As his body his the couch, tufts of hair flew into the air. Tom’s eyes widened in surprise before running over to the couch to investigate. Even though it had been less than a day, Oatmeal had managed to get his fur all over the couch.

“Excuse me? What is this?” Tom demanded as he picked up some fur between his fingers. Oatmeal rolled onto his side and stared at Tom with unblinking eyes.

“What did I say about shedding? You think this is some brothel that you can defile with your fur? It’s not.” Tom snapped, stomping over to the hall closet to get the vacuum. He plugged it into the wall, shooting angry glared at Oatmeal every few seconds.

“Unbelievable.” Tom pretended to gag as he vacuumed up the hair. “You disgust me.”

Oatmeal flicked his tail back and forth, causing the fur Tom had missed to float into the air. Tom shook his fist at the cat before getting his food out and putting it in the bowl.

“I’m taking a shower.” He grumbled as he rinsed his hands. “Eat your damn food.”

Tuesday

“Oatmeal? Come in here.”

Tom stood with his hands on his hips, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the damned cat to come. When he didn’t show, Tom balled his fists in frustration and let out a silent scream.

“Oh my God. SPSPSPSPS.” Tom yelled, spit flying from his mouth as he called the cat once again. Oatmeal waltzed into the room, taking his sweet time to get to where Tom was.

“Do you want to explain to me what this is?” Tom asked angrily as he pointed to the surprise Oatmeal had left on the floor while he was working out. Oatmeal sat down and tilted his head at Tom, daring him to raise his voice.

“You’ve done it.” Tom nodded as he tightened his lips into a line. “You’ve shit on my floor.”

Oatmeal purred before turning his attention to his paw, loudly cleaning it to show Tom he had no shame.

“The disrespect you’ve shown for my hard wood is astounding.” Tom pointed a finger at him. “You’re a fiend. A sneaky, fatass little fiend.”

Oatmeal looked towards the kitchen table and meowed before looking back at Tom. He shook his body out, fur flying everywhere and settling in the air.

“Why must you insult me in this way? Why wouldn’t you go in your-“ Tom cut himself off when he looked at the litter box, still on the kitchen table where he left it. So that was what Oatmeal had been looking at.

“Oh. I told you not to put your feet on the table.” Tom realized the cat had listened to him after all. Oatmeal had pooped on the floor, but only because Tom failed to put the litter box down. Oatmeal let out a quiet meow and walked over to Tom, hitting his leg with his tail.

“No, I get it.” Tom sighed as he went to get cleaning supplies. “We were both at fault. I mean, I wasn’t the one who shit on the floor, but we both made a mistake.”

Oatmeal circled Tom’s body before taking a seat at his feet, peering up at him with wide eyes. Tom felt guilty as he looked at the animal, knowing he could never understand that he was sorry for yelling at him. He walked to the table and got the litter box, setting it down where Oatmeal could access it.

“Here.” He said softly. “Sorry about that.”

Oatmeal walked over to the box and looked up at Tom, giving Tom the impression that he was forgiven. But of course, Oatmeal still had a cold side. He hissed viciously at Tom before stepping into the littler box.

“Fine.” Tom scoffed. “I’m not sorry.”

Your cat and your boyfriend stared at each other for a long time, neither wanting to be the one to leave. That was a sign of weakness, and they were both determined to dominate the other.

“I’m getting frozen yogurt.” Tom said suddenly, unable to take the tension any longer. He grabbed his keys and left without another word.

Less than an hour later, Tom returned home with a ring of chocolate frozen yogurt around his mouth. He locked the front door and turned his light on, jumping when he saw Oatmeal sitting in the middle of the floor with a vacant stare.

“Jesus. Warn a guy, would you?” Tom rolled his eyes as he held a hand over his heart. “You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

Oatmeal stayed silent as Tom put his keys in the bowl by the door, his eyes following Tom’s every move.

“Yeah, you would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you?” Tom narrowed his eyes at Oatmeal before washing his hands in the kitchen sink. Oatmeal let out a loud hiss, making Tom jump out of his skin. He had crossed the room to get to Tom, all without making a sound, and sat himself at his feet. Tom stumbled back, only stopping when his back hit the wall. His heart pounded in his ears from the scare, and if he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn Oatmeal was laughing at him. Not wanting to show weakness, Tom quickly collected himself and stood up straight.

“Alright listen here you little bitch.” Tom snapped. “I don’t like you. And if I wasn’t seriously in love with your owner, I would microwave you. I would put you in the microwave and watch you rotate just like them damn rotisserie chickens until you blew up. And then I would set the microwave on fire.”

Oatmeal let out a long meow, sounding insulted by Tom’s words. His eyes softened upon hearing the hurt in the cats voice, fixing his body language to not look as menacing.

“Okay I wouldn’t do all that, but I would drive out to a really far place and leave you there. And that’s basically the same thing.” Tom shouted as he folded his arms. Oatmeal dragged his paw behind his ear and purred, taking no interest in Tom or his threats.

“Shut the fuck up.” Tom hissed. Oatmeal hissed back and swiped a paw at Tom.

“I’ll shave you.” Tom threaten as he backed away. “I will shave you bare.”

Oatmeal continued to advance on him, backing the actor into a corner.

“You don’t think I’d do it?” Tom asked with a shaky voice. “I’ll get the buzzer right now. Do you know how ugly you’ll look?”

Oatmeal stopped in his place and sat down, leaning back on his front paws to stretch.

“That’s right.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’ll look like an uncooked chicken breast. Fuck you.”

Oatmeal watched Tom curiously as he left the room, satisfied with how the conversation went.

Wednesday

Tom sat at his kitchen island, slowing sipping his fourth glass of wine. It had gotten to the point in the week where he missed you too much to do much of anything, which resulted him getting drunk early in the day. He had been locked in a staring contest with Oatmeal for quite some time, never breaking eye contact as he poured his next glass.

“What are you looking at?” Tom slurred as he brought the wine glass to his lips. Oatmeal said nothing, blinking slowly at Tom as he drank.

“So what?” Tom shrugged. “My girlfriend is gone. I can get drunk at 2 pm.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to the side, something Tom was growing to resent.

“How dare you judge me?” He spoke slowly, heavily intoxicated now. “You’re not even wearing clothes.”

Oatmeal let out a soft meow, making a smile tug at Toms lips.

“Heh heh.” He chuckled as he took another sip. “Imagine that? You’d look pretty stupid in clothes.”

Oatmeal took a few steps toward Tom, sweetly purring as he rubbed himself against Toms legs.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you stupid.” Tom said softly. “If anyone’s stupid, it’s me. I should’ve gone with Y/n. I miss her so much.”

Oatmeal peered up at Tom with kind eyes, the first docile interaction between them.

“Yeah.” Tom smiled as reached down to scratch his ears. “Me too.”

Oatmeal jumped onto the chair, and then into Toms lap, nuzzling himself against his neck. Tom happily stroked his soft fur, liking this newfound civility between them.

“This is gonna sound crazy, but what can I say? I’m a crazy guy.” Tom laughed heartily. “Do you want to drink with me? Do you just wanna go crazy and drink away the day?”

Oatmeal looked up at Tom and meowed, making Tom smile.

“Hell yeah!” He cheered. He picked Oatmeal up with one hand and grabbed the wine bottle with the other. After setting Oatmeal down on the ground, he poured wine into his water bowl.

“Wine is for cats! Wine is for people! Wine is for people and cats and people.” Tom sang happily. Oatmeal purred as he watched Tom, curious about the unknown liquid in his bowl.

“Thats right.” Tom agreed. “It’s also for church.”

Oatmeal sniffed the wine and pulled away, the sour smell sending a shiver through his body. He waltzed over to a sunbeam that was lighting up the floor and laid down, letting the sun warm his body. Tom stared at him for a moment before shrugging and laying down beside the cat.

“Do you believe in God?” Tom asked as he looked over at him. Oatmeal let out a small meow, to which Tom raised his eyebrows.

“You’re crazy, man.” Tom shook his head and patted his chest. “You’re a crazy dude.”

He laid in the sun with Oatmeal in silence for a moment, taking in the warmth from the floor.

“It’s so warm down here.” Tom sighed in content. “It’s like a hug from the sun.”

Oatmeal swatted his tail towards Tom, making Tom smile. Tom reaching over and rubbed Oatmeal’s tummy, his attention diverting to the bell on his collar. He took it between his fingers and saw your name and address engraved on it, sighing again as he was reminded about how much he missed you.

“I have to tell you man, I love her so much.” Tom pouted wistfully. “Y/n is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Tom smiled as Oatmeal purred in understanding.

“You want another drink you crazy bastard?” He asked the cat as he got off the floor. He poured some wine into his glass, and then some into Oatmeal’s already full bowl.

“Me too, man. Me too.” Tom said as he took another sip and got back on the floor.

“You know, Oatmeal isn’t that bad of a name. I can see why she named you that, though.” Tom thought out loud as he stroked the cats fur. “You’re the exact color of her favorite kind. The maple brown sugar one, you know? She gets so excited in the winter when it’s one sale. I’ve seen her clear a whole shelf into her shopping cart. And then she sits down at the table when her hair is still messy and lets it warm her up. She puts her little spoon in it and blows on it even though it’s never that hot. She’s so cute, man. I love her so much. I could watch her eat oatmeal everyday.”

Oatmeal purred as he rubbed his head against Toms hand.

“I know.” Tom chuckled. “We really are lucky.”

Tom situated himself into a more comfortable position on the floor and held his hand up, letting the sun rays shine through his fingers and illuminate the cat hair in the air.

“I gotta say, you’re really onto something with this whole napping in sunbeams deal.” Tom commented. “I’m quite enjoying this.”

Tom was too busy drinking on the floor to hear his front door open. You set your bags down and went into the living room, smiling in confusion when you saw your boyfriend and your cat on the ground.

“Tom?” You laughed at the sight. “I’m home.”

Toms eyes widened as he sprang off the floor, the wine in his glass sloshing around as he stood up.

“It was his idea!” He exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at your cat.

“Oh really?” You humored him. “What are you guys doing?”

“We…sunbeam.” Tom explained as he weakly pointed at the sunbeam, still too drunk to form a real sentence.

“I see.” You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You placed a welcomed kiss to his lips, immediately tasting the bitter wine.

“Are you drunk?” You asked as you finally noticed the wine glass in his hand.

“Maybe.” Tom giggled as he struggled to stand up straight.

“Never mind that.” Your eyes shifted to Oatmeal and the vacant spot next to him that your boyfriend previously inhabited. “Were you just…cuddling my cat?”

“No.” Tom said quickly. “We were both laying there and you happened to walk in during the brief moment we touched. That’s all.”

“Why were you on the floor?” You questioned as you took the wine glass from his hand and took a sip. Tom opened his mouth but found no words coming out, opting to change the subject instead.

“Come here!” He smiled as he pulled you in for a long hug. “I missed you. Tell me all about your trip.”

“I picked up food from your favorite restaurant. Let’s eat and I’ll tell you everything.” You suggested as you pulled away.

“That sounds perfect.” He sighed, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. “I’m starved.”

You pulled him in for another kiss before bending down to greet your cat.

“Hello baby.” You cooed as you scratched behind Oatmeal’s ears. “Were you a good boy for Tom?”

“He was all right.” Tom shrugged, sending a wink to the cat. “Nothing to report.”

“You spend all that time whining about watching him but you have nothing to report?” You asked skeptically as you stood back up.

“It was pretty mellow.” Tom said dismissively, not wanting to get into the multiple fights they had. You squinted at Tom as if you didn’t believe him and folded your arms.

“Hm. Maybe he did put that hex on you after all.” You teased. “I’m gonna change real quick and move my bags.”

“Okay. I missed you.” Tom pulled you by the hand and kissed you again before you could leave the room.

“I missed you more.” You gave him another quick kiss and grimaced. “You taste like alcohol.”

“I’ll set the table, princess.” He called after you as you walked towards his bedroom.

“Thank you!” You called back.

Tom got to work setting the table and putting the bag of food near the place settings. You came back in no time in one of his large T-shirts and a pair of his boxers. Tom smiled softly, always happy to see you in his clothing.

“You look comfy.” He commented as he pulled you towards him by the waist.

“I am.” You hummed. “That was such a long flight. I don’t know why I wore jeans.”

“Well at least you’re home now. I couldn’t handle us being apart for another day.” He pouted while resting his forehead against yours.

“Me either.” You smiled at him until your eyes shifted to the wall behind him, noticing something strange right away.

“Tom?” You asked as you pulled your head back.

“Yes, love?” He answered, obviously to the concerned look on your face.

“Why is there wine in Oatmeal’s food bowl?”

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kingexpl0sionmurder · 4 years

Text

Missed Connection - Shinsou Hitoshi

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Rating: NSFW 18+ Warnings: Unprotected sex, blowjobs, dirty talk, poking fun at fakes who shop at UO and wear band t-shirts for bands they don’t listen to, terrible poetry, Kaminari is a weirdo. Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi/F!Reader Words: 4,554 AN: This is for the bnharem server collab, the theme is pen pals! We were able to write basically anything as long as there was some kind of communication/writing/texting etc! This is the first time I’ve written for Shinsou and I head cannon him as a fucking closet goth so don’t at me. Collab Masterlist (Please go check out everyone else’s contributions!) My Masterlist Buy me a Ko-fi -- When his phone started ringing, Shinsou was tempted to throw it halfway across the room. Whoever thought it was okay to call him at - he turned to squint at the clock on his bedside table - 10 in the morning on his day off, better have a good excuse. He frowned at the screen once he’d found his phone, and sighed.

“The world better be on fire, Kaminari.” His palm rubbed over his face as he pressed the phone to his ear, his eyes closing again.

The blonde chuckled, full of energy as usual. “Aw, come on ‘Toshi! It’s not that early.”

A million ways he could kill his friend and make it look like an accident flashed through his mind. “You know I like to sleep late on my days off.” He left it at that, no further explanation needed. Kaminari knew he stayed up impossibly late on his off days, crawling under the covers only when the sun started to rise.

“You want to hear this, I promise. I wouldn’t call this early unless it was important.” Shinsou listened to the sound of a keyboard clicking through the phone, waiting impatiently for his friend to continue.

“So, you know how I sometimes like to fuck around on the internet?” This was a rhetorical question. Of course he did. “Well, occasionally I like to browse through Craigslist, and this morning I was in the missed connections section, and I found something interesting.”

“Why do you look through missed connections?” He didn’t really care, he just thought it was kind of...weird. But, then again, this was Denki, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Kaminari huffed. “Dude, sometimes it’s so sad to read how they saw someone and thought there was a connection. It makes me wonder if they ever find each other.” He was quiet for a moment like he was deep in thought. “But then sometimes, it’s like ‘You farted in the produce section and I’d still date you, let’s go out’ and it kind of loses the romantic appeal.”

“You’re a sap. Also, gross.” He found himself drifting off, bored with the conversation already. “Do you have a point?”

“God, you’re impatient! Listen, I was scrolling through the ads and I found this one, I think you should hear it.” Clearing his throat, he began to read.

“You were the sleepy purple-haired man in the cat cafe on Main, I was hiding behind an orange tabby by the window. I was staring, but I wasn’t trying to be creepy. You just looked kind of lost, and the black and white short hair on your lap seemed to have all your attention. Oh, I think his name is Socks. Isn’t that unoriginal? Anyway, I’ve seen you there a few times and I want to know more about you. If you see this, please respond.”

Shinsou sat up in his bed, ignoring the sharp pain of his muscles protesting at the sudden movement. “What the fuck?”

“This is about you, isn’t it?” Denki’s excitement was clear. “You’re the only sleepy guy with purple hair I know who frequents that cat cafe on Main Street.”

“How long ago was that posted?” Hitoshi felt strange, restless energy flowing through him. Someone had noticed him and decided that he was interesting enough to want to get to know? He wasn’t anything special, and he kept to himself mostly. What did this even mean?

“Last night! When did you go to the cafe?” He didn’t even wait for a response. “I’m forwarding this post to you, and you better send them an email! It’s been too long since you’ve dated someone, ‘Toshi, and I’m concerned.”

Unfortunately feeling more awake than he wanted to be, Shinsou shifted until his feet were on the floor. “Yesterday afternoon. And it hasn’t been that long.”

“It’s been like a year, dude.” Kaminari sighed. “Okay, I sent it. Please write back to them. Let me live vicariously through you in this weird turn of events.”

Shinsou sighed and said goodbye, ending the call and staring off into space for a minute. He needed coffee before he could even think about reading it for himself and then maybe responding.

Uh, hello.

I can’t help but feel like this was about me? I’m not even really sure what to say. This feels weird. You could have come over and said hi, maybe. I don’t bite. I might have stared at you and made things awkward but I feel like it would have been a surefire way to talk to me instead of posting this on craigslist of all places and expecting me to see it.

You’re lucky I have a friend who likes to scour the dark recesses of the internet for entertainment purposes and happened upon this post.

-Shinsou

How do I know this is really the person I’m talking about? What were you wearing when you went to the cafe? That’s like the only way I can be sure you are who you say you are.

The only reason I didn’t come over and talk to you was that I had Oliver on my lap and he is a grump and didn’t want me to get up until he was good and ready. (That’s the orange tabby’s name, by the way.) By the time I was able to coax his fat ass off of me you had gone.

Honestly, I’d let those cats climb all over me like their own personal cat tree all day long and not complain about it, but I digress.

I didn’t expect you to find this or reply, it was kind of my way of convincing myself that I’d given it a shot, even though I really hadn’t done much.

-Y/N

I was wearing the following:

A Joy Division t-shirt depicting the cover of Unknown Pleasures, which is arguably the most cliche t-shirt I own. It’s become one of those shirts that people wear who have no idea who Joy Division is, they just like it for the aesthetic. (I’ll have you know I happen to know who they are and like their music very much.) This shirt was more than likely covered in cat hair.

Black jeans, which were probably covered in cat hair as well.

Black boots, a staple of mine.

I am a closet goth. I don’t know what else to say. I won’t deny it. I’ve learned to embrace who I am. I happen to know that Oliver is a grumpy shit, so I am not surprised he kept you pinned down for so long. That cat has been known to knock people over and purr loudly while “making biscuits” on their chests for hours at a time. I’m glad to know that you survived his assault.

So what are you going to tell me about yourself now? I have confessed to you about my goth status, so I demand something in return.

-Shinsou

Yeah, it was you.

I was hoping that you actually liked Joy Division and you weren’t one of those Urban Outfitters aesthetic people. I can now rest easy. I like them too, but I really like New Order more? I hope this isn’t the end of our budding friendship.

I will not say that I am a goth, though I have goth-like tendencies? Or I just appreciate the music. Whatever. I don’t have, like, a pet bat or anything. I own a pair of Doc’s, though.

I have been on the receiving end of one of Oliver’s attacks before, so you don’t have to tell me about them. I have experienced his pushy demeanor on more than one occasion.

So, something about me? I don’t know. I spend a lot of time in that cafe because I love cats, but that’s kind of a given, isn’t it? I usually bring my laptop and make an attempt to work on my homework, but it’s usually futile. I’d rather pet the cats.

Oh, I guess that counts as something right? I go to college. I’m an English major and taking a fuck ton of creative writing courses. What about you?

-Y/N

An English major? That sounds like fun. I think if I had a need to go to college I’d have liked to take something like that. I have a friend who writes ultra depressing Gothic poetry, that would be right up his ally as well.

I’m a pro hero, hence why I didn’t need college. Saving people is something I’ve always wanted to do, especially since I was always bullied about my quirk as a kid. It kind of made me more determined, I always wanted to prove those assholes wrong, you know? So, here I am.

I’m glad to know we can wear matching Doc’s together, and that you don’t keep a bat as a pet. As cute as their faces are, they’re not very easily domesticated.

New Order is fine. The real question is, The Smiths or The Cure? Your answer to this question will be what determines the longevity of our friendship.

-Shinsou

This is the worst question you could ever ask me. How could you do this? I could never choose between them. Both? The answer is both.

I hope your next email will not be your last.

Bats are cute but they always seem to dive bomb my head when they’re around. Not that I go places with bats often, but I used to go camping as a kid and they always did that. It was not a good time.

I think it’s amazing that you’re a pro hero! You’re really out here, fighting the bad guys and saving people and then coming into the cat cafe and petting kittens and drinking coffee like a normal person. I think it’s admirable how hard you worked to achieve your dream. I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m proud of you. Why were you bullied for your quirk? You don’t have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable.

I wish I could write ultra depressy Gothic poetry. Here let me try:

The night is black like my soul Clove cigarettes burn slowly My life is Meaningless

How was that? Do I get a gold star? Or a black skull? Which is appropriate?

-Y/N

I’m printing that and sending it to Tokoyami. Thank you for making my entire existence with that poem. I’m breaking out the red wax candles and putting on “How Soon Is Now?” right now.

You get a star, but it’s a pentagram. We have to keep with the theme.

My quirk has to do with mind control, so I was always told I was meant to be a villain. You can imagine what that could do to a kid’s psyche, being told by peers and adults alike that you weren’t hero material, when that’s all you wanted. It’s okay though, I did what I wanted and they can eat my ass.

Sorry if that was too raunchy, but it’s how I feel.

If my earlier comment wasn’t proof enough, I prefer The Smiths, but I cannot deny the impact of Disintegration. Lullaby is a really great song.

That being said, this will not be my last email, so you can breathe easy.

On a semi serious note, I really enjoy talking with you. We have a similar sense of humor, and you like cats which makes you automatically better than most people. Would you like to get coffee sometime? I know a nice place that’s quiet and filled with fluffy kittens...

-Shinsou

—

I’m glad I haven’t lost your friendship due to my opinion. I know how important that feud can be to some people. People get very passionate about it. Kind of like with Blur versus Oasis, or Brand New versus Taking Back Sunday. I hate that these are the only examples I can think of.

It wasn’t too raunchy. Those people can most definitely eat your ass. I’m glad you have decided to use your powers for good. You’ll have to explain to me how your quirk works sometime.

I shall treasure my shiny pentagram sticker with my entire heart.

Isn’t Tokoyami the Jet Black Hero: Tsukuyomi? He looks like the type to write Gothic poetry. I am not even mildly surprised.

Even though the way we met was unconventional, I’d like to think I’d have gotten up the courage to speak to you the next time I saw you in the cafe. Somehow this is better, though. It makes for an interesting story, you know?

I’d love to get coffee. I think I know the place you’re talking about. Let me know when.

-Y/N

—

Shinsou was nervous. It was stupid really. He’d been exchanging emails back and forth with you for a few days, and even though you’d barely revealed much about each other, the easy banter through your messages was comforting. He felt like the two of you would be compatible. He just hoped that he was able to keep the conversation going in real life.

When he entered the cafe, he ordered his usual and picked his normal table towards the back. Socks, his favorite black and white companion, was at his side almost immediately. He let his hand drift down to scratch behind her ears, his gaze fixed on the door as he waited for you to arrive.

Out of habit he was a little early, but he figured it would be easier this way. He had no idea what you looked like, but you knew him, so he knew you’d come over when you got there, and it would make things less awkward.

A few minutes later he saw the door open, and he immediately knew it was you. Black Doc’s and thigh high stockings, a black skirt and an oversized deep red sweater adorned your body, a leather jacket over your shoulders and your hair tucked under a black beanie, cheeks pink from the chill of the autumn weather outside. You were pretty, and he felt his nerves increase tenfold when your eyes met his, a smile gracing your face.

He watched as you ordered a drink at the counter, the paper cup clutched in your hands as you made your way to his table. He stood up when you approached, letting himself appreciate you up close. “Y/N?”

“Hi, Shinsou.” You were so much shorter than he was, and he found himself having to gaze down at you when he was standing at his full height.

“It’s nice to put a face to all those emails.” The way you blushed under his attention made his heart flip. “Please, sit.”

You nodded, sliding into the seat across from him. He sat back down, his hands moving to grip his coffee cup.

“This is kind of weird, isn’t it?” You looked down when Oliver made his way over, rubbing himself against your boot. “I almost feel like I don’t know what to say.”

“I know what you mean. We could just sit here and email each other, if that would make you feel better.” Your laugh was like music to his ears. “I’d rather hear your voice though.”

Your face was red when you looked back up at him. “I have to agree.” You leaned your elbow on the table, your cheek cradled in your palm. “Tell me more about yourself, Shinsou.”

“It’s Hitoshi. You can call me Hitoshi.”

—

If anyone would have told him that the night would end this way, he’d have said they were insane, and should probably get themselves checked into the nearest institution.

But here he was, his face pressed into the spot where your neck and shoulder met, lips ghosting over soft skin, his calloused palms sliding underneath your sweater. You were purring, your head thrown back and your fists clenched in his t-shirt, your back pressed against the wall in the hallway that led to his bedroom.

“Fuck, ‘Toshi.” You mumbled, pressing yourself closer to him. “Bed?”

You didn’t have to ask twice, his hands sliding down to lift you up by the backs of your thighs, his cock hard and straining in his jeans as you rutted against him. He turned himself and began walking toward his room blindly, his eyes still shut as he sucked a mark into your neck.

He pulled back so he could peer over your shoulder and maneuver your bodies through the doorway without bumping into anything, laying you back on the bed.

The events of the night were a blur, your coffee date turned into him taking you out for ramen at the restaurant down the street, and then he asked you back to his apartment to show you his record collection.

It was mostly a ruse though. You’d been flirting back and forth, the both of you getting bolder as the night went on. He was only half surprised when you’d entered his apartment, barely removing shoes and coats and hats before you spun around on him, pressing him against the door and kissing him like your life depended on it.

He rested on his forearms, poised above you, looking over your flushed face and kiss bruised lips. Your legs wrapped around his waist and pulled his hips closer, making him groan. “Impatient?”

Your hands moved to cup his face, pulling him down toward you. “Very.”

He wasn’t expecting your strength, caught off guard when your lips crashed into his, your body pushing him over until he was on his back and you were straddling him, knees on either side of his hips. You ground down against him, moaning when his hips snapped up reflexively. He was happy to give you control for a while, especially when you sat up and grabbed the bottom of your sweater and pulled it over your head. The view was spectacular.

He let his hands wander, tracing along the lines of your thigh highs from under your skirt, and up to the lace at your hips. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the devilish glint in your eye was not lost on his as you shifted down his body, fingers swiftly working to unclasp his belt and undo the button on his jeans.

You slid off of him, and he lifted his hips to aid you in pulling his pants down his legs, his boxers following. His cock was achingly hard, the tip angry and red as it sprung free from it’s confines, nearly slapping his stomach. You eyed it greedily, and he was lost for words when you surged forward, delicate fingers wrapping around his length and stroking him, your tongue peeking out to taste him.

Amethyst eyes rolled back when you took the tip in your mouth, tongue swirling around the head, a low moan sounding from the back of your throat. The warmth and wetness that surrounded his cock when you closed your eyes and bobbed forward had him breathless, his hand threading through your hair, and his palm resting on the back of your head. He kept himself steady, fighting back the urge to buck his hips and push you down further on his length.

Shinsou bit down on his lower lip, his stomach muscles tensing as he tried to keep it together. Kaminari had been right, it had been a while since he’d been with someone, and he wanted this night to last as long as possible. The sweet and innocent look in your eyes as you looked up at him through your lashes, your mouth enveloping him all the way to base, was nearly too much for him to handle, his hand tugging at your hair gently to pull you off of him. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up, kitten.”

You visibly shivered at the pet name and he grinned, loving the feeling of being able to invoke that reaction from you. He scooted forward when you sat back on your knees between his spread legs, his arms circling your torso as he worked at the clasp on your bra, pulling the straps down your arms when he unclipped it. Strong hands gripped your waist and moved you to the side as he stood up, reaching under your skirt to tug your panties down your legs.

He took a moment to consider what he’d do next. He wanted to taste you, it was only right for him to return the favor, and he was almost certain you would taste as sweet as you looked. Another part of him wanted to hike up your legs around his waist and slam inside of you, desperate to hear you moan his name as he pounded you into the mattress. As he contemplated what to do, reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, and then let his hands wander up to the apex of your thighs, digits sliding through your folds. You gasped, falling back onto your elbows, back arching as he toyed with your clit, letting his long fingers slip inside your heat. “So wet. Just for me?” Eyebrows raised, he teased you.

“Fuck, Hitoshi, please.” Breathless and panting, you gazed up at him, biting your lip.

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” You would make the decision for him. “Would you like my mouth or my cock? I’ll let you choose.”

Huffing, your hips rutted against his hand impatiently. He kneeled on the bed between your legs, adjusting his arm and adding a second finger in with the first, his thumb finding your bundle of nerves again. He listened to your breath hitch, and your quiet mewls, pride filling his chest that he was the one coaxing those noises out of you. Finally, you breathed deep and answered him. “Fuck me, Hitoshi.”

Ignoring the protesting whine that left your lips when he removed his fingers, he brought them up to his mouth, maintaining eye contact with you as he sucked on them, tasting you. “You’re delicious, kitten. I’ll have to make sure to taste you properly later.”

Wasting no time, he lifted your legs up to rest your legs over his shoulders, one hand on his cock. He lined himself up with your entrance, grabbing at your hips and pushing himself inside you. If he thought your mouth was hot and wet and basically everything he thought was heaven, he was mistaken. This was it. This was everything. He wasn’t even inside you all the way and he was fighting back the need to cum again, cursing himself and breathing deeply. He leaned forward, forearms on either side of your head as his mouth crashed against yours, all lips and tongues and teeth, his need for you growing tenfold as you wiggled your hips in an attempt to feel more of him.

Groaning, he bucked forward, filling you up, the both of you sighing in relief at the feeling. He gave you a moment to adjust, lips moving down your jaw and tongue laving at the mark he’d left on your neck earlier. “You feel so good, kitten.”

“Toshi, you can move…” Your hands were gripping his biceps, nails leaving crescent shapes in his pale skin, breathing ragged as you clenched around him.

Hissing, he followed your instructions, hips pulling back until he was almost completely out, before sliding back in. Your arousal made the glide easy, your back arching underneath him. He started a steady rhythm, grunting quietly and letting the feeling of you pulsing around him keep him grounded. He let one of his hands wander, shifting his weight so he could ghost his palm over your side, fingers pinching your nipple and rolling the hardened bud between them. You keened, chanting his name like a prayer, the sound of blood pounding in his ears almost masking the sound.

It spurred him to move faster, his chest tight, sweat pooling at his temples and between his shoulder blades, purple locks sticking to his forehead. His gaze was locked on you, and it stole his breath. Your chest and neck were flushed, the most beautiful sounds spilling from your lips as he fucked into you. It became clear to him that he wasn’t going to last much longer, and neither were you.

“Hey, kitten. You gonna cum for me?” He shifted back to his knees and trailed the fingers on his left hand down your stomach, coming to rest between your parted legs. “I want to hear how pretty you sound when you come apart.” He kept a firm grip on your hip to keep you from sliding away, rolling his hips and rubbing tight circles on your clit.

“Fuck, Hitoshi!” The effect was almost immediate, your body and lungs seizing, eyes rolling back as you fell over the edge, your cunt clenching around him like a vice.

Falling back over you, his thrusts became sloppy as he chased his own release, barely able to move with how tight your pussy was gripping him, your orgasm still rolling through you. He felt your hands on his face, guiding him to kiss you again, fingers carding through his hair and down his back, your nails raking red trails down his back. He felt like he could barely breathe, lost in you. “Y/N…”

He felt his muscles tense, and moved to bury his face in your neck, his hips stilling as he came hard, filling you up with his release. You squeezed around him again, and he sighed into your skin, eyes closed as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Rolling over to the side, he hissed when he pulled out. You chuckled, and he turned to look at you, a lazy smile on his face. “What?”

“Is that what you call showing me your record collection?”

Snorting, he propped his head up on his palm, leaning on his elbow, his free hand reaching out to push a piece of hair away from your face. “You attacked me, remember?”

“I couldn’t help it!” Protesting, you blushed. “I wanted to kiss you from the moment I walked into the cafe.”

It was his turn to blush. “Yeah?”

Shrugging, you turned on your side to face him. “Mm. Can you do me a favor?”

His body was still buzzing, muscles loose and pliant as he shuffled closer to you. “Anything.”

“Can you thank your friend for being a weird internet troll and finding my post?”

Shinsou coughed a laugh, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “Please, I can’t do that. It’s all he’d ever talk about for the rest of our lives if I did.”

You leaned up and kissed him, your fingers pushing back his hair.

He hummed against your lips, feeling content, shifting himself on the bed and wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you into him. “Maybe I’ll send him a text later. For now, I have other plans.”

Kaminari’s phone buzzed on the coffee table, and he picked it up, eyes widening at the message that appeared on the screen.

Toshi: I owe you a crate full of Pokemon cards and my eternal gratitude for being a weirdo meme king who trolls the internet.

Denki: Oh, you’re in a good mood. Did you get laid?

Toshi: Fuck all the way off.

Denki: That’s a yes. You’re welcome.

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nicknellie · 3 years

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Anonymous requested: Could I request willex fake dating au, maybe the boys are trying to get Alex a boyfriend and so he asks Willie to fake date him to get the boys off his back or something please!

Anon, I love fake dating AUs, I’m beyond glad that you suggested this. Plus with willex I think fake dating is very in character, especially for Alex. I had a lot of fun writing this one, thank you for your request! I’m sorry it took me so long to get round to writing it, but to make up for it I’ve made it longer than most of my other fics.

A Dream Come True

Alex had to hand it to them – when Luke and Reggie wanted something, they really pushed for it. Normally it would be one of the many things he loved about the two of them. Determination, perseverance, resilience, all good qualities. And when they put their minds towards something useful like booking Julie and the Phantoms a gig or dragging Willie out of the washing machine when he got stuck in it playing hide and seek, they were definitely useful to have around. So usually, Alex loved their pushiness.

He just didn’t like it when it was aimed at him. Even less so when they were trying (for the umpteenth time that month) to get him a boyfriend.

And the worst part was that this time Alex had run out of excuses.

For reasons Alex simply couldn’t fathom, Luke and Reggie had been obsessed with the idea of finding him a boyfriend for some weeks now. Reggie had downloaded several dating apps and entered all of Alex’s information, and every time Alex saw him the first thing Reggie would do was reel off a list of several candidates he’d deemed worthy. Luke, ever the technophobe (or rather just terrible with technology), had taken a more natural approach and spent countless hours wandering the streets of Hollywood for someone who was, in his words, ‘the sort of guy who would make Alex lose his goddamn mind’.

It wasn’t that Alex didn’t appreciate them trying to make him happy – he found it sweet, if a little weird – it was just that he knew nobody they found would ever be right. He knew what he was looking for, he knew what he wanted, and he didn’t think that Luke and Reggie could get it for him.

The first time they had tried to send him on a date Alex had faked a cold and pulled out at the last minute. The second time he had “accidentally” shown up to the wrong location and missed the entire thing. The third time he simply hadn’t gone – instead, he turned off all the lights in his house, locked all the doors and windows, and hid, so when he didn’t show up and Luke and Reggie came over looking for him they assumed he was out. The fourth time and most recent time he had pretended to fall asleep when they told him about it.

Alex wasn’t the most creative of people and he had pretty much exhausted all of his go-to date-dodging tactics. So the fifth time his friends tried to set him up, he completely panicked.

“So I was doing my usual lap of Sunset Boulevard this morning,” Luke said in lieu of a greeting the moment he walked into Julie’s garage. “And Alex, dude, bro, you will not believe the guy I saw.”

“Good morning to you to,” Alex said flatly.

Luke wrinkled his nose like the greeting confused him, but then saw Julie setting up her mic in the corner. A bright smile grew on his face as he was distracted and for a moment Alex thought he might have been lucky enough to get out of the conversation. But a moment later, Reggie entered the studio and also decided that greetings weren’t a necessity.

“Luke! Did you tell Alex about the guy yet?”

Julie snickered (she found the whole thing much funnier than Alex did and he most certainly did not appreciate it) and for a moment more Luke continued to just look at her, absolutely besotted, but then he came to his senses and all of a sudden his excited smile was directed at Alex.

“Right, that. So I ran into him outside the Orpheum, so he’s probably a music guy,” Luke gushed, winking in a way that Alex supposed was meant to be suggestive. “We had a little chat and he told me he’s training as a teacher and is also looking for someone to settle down with.”

“Sometimes I worry about you,” Alex said, laying a gentle hand on Luke’s arm. “You’re getting forgetful. I’m not looking to settle down with anyone.”

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Luke shrugged Alex’s arm off and instead planted his own hands firmly on Alex’s shoulders, shaking him a little. “Maybe not, but that might change when you meet this guy.”

“I doubt it. What’s his name?”

“Oscar. Maybe Oliver. Orville? I don’t know, but it definitely began with an ‘o’.”

“He sounds memorable,” Alex deadpanned. “I’m sure we’ll have a great time together.”

Reggie gasped excitedly. “So you’ll meet up with him then?”

“No,” Alex said firmly.

Julie giggled again (and once again Luke looked at her, dazzled). “Why not, Alex? You sounded so enthusiastic about him!”

“Very funny,” he returned. “I’m not meeting him.”

“Why not?” Luke whined, dragging the words out like a frustrated toddler. “You always do this! Reg and I try to set you up with people but you always say you don’t want to. Are we missing something?”

Alex could see the cogs whirring in Reggie’s mind before his face lit up and he triumphantly guessed, “Or are we missing someone?”

If anyone had asked, Alex wouldn’t have been able to give a reason for what he said next. It was completely untrue, a wild statement made under extreme pressure in the face of an emergency. Perhaps it was a bad decision, but he had run out of excuses to not meet people and he was getting desperate. He hadn’t had time to consider it.

Alex said, “Yes.”

Reggie’s jaw dropped, Julie dropped her microphone, and Luke dropped whatever respect he had left for Alex’s personal boundaries. He launched himself at Alex, tackling him to the floor in what he assumed was supposed to be a hug, and Alex was fairly certain that Luke was crying with happiness.

“Dude!” he shouted (though it was rather muffled since he had his face buried in Alex’s shirt). “That’s awesome news! Reggie and I can stop searching! I didn’t think you’d be able to find someone yourself, bro.”

“Thanks for having so much confidence in me,” Alex said flatly as he extricated himself from Luke’s vice grip and hoisted himself to his feet.

“You’re welcome,” Luke said as he wiped his eyes (yes, he was actually crying happy tears).

Julie had her arms crossed in front of her chest, looking half-puzzled and half-affronted. “You’re seeing someone? And you didn’t tell me? The only one of your friends who is even a little bit good at keeping a secret?”

“Hey,” Reggie interrupted, “I’m good at keeping secrets!”

“Reggie, honey, I love you but at Christmas you told everyone what you’d bought them as soon as you’d bought it.”

Reggie looked like he wanted to defend himself but couldn’t. “I was excited to see everyone’s reactions…”

Rolling her eyes fondly, Julie turned back to Alex. “Anyway – why didn’t you tell me?”

While he was a terrible liar, Alex just so happened to be a very good actor. In high school he’d got the lead role in the school play two years in a row, but whenever someone asked him if he was gay (before he had come out) he would often panic and pretend to faint to get out of the situation. Though he was technically telling a lie here, he decided it would be the prime opportunity to employ some of the improvisational skills he had worked on with Carrie back in their theatre club.

“It was all very new,” he explained, “we weren’t sure if it was going to go anywhere and we didn’t want to tell everyone until we were sure.”

It was only at this point that Alex realised he was digging a very deep hole for himself and it was most certainly too late to climb out of it now.

“When do we get to meet him?” Reggie asked excitedly.

“You already have,” Alex replied.

A little voice in the back of his mind was saying, shut up, you absolute idiot, what the hell are you playing at? Perhaps stupidly, he drowned that voice out.

Looking dumbfounded, Luke clutched Alex’s shoulders again. “We have? Who is it?”

The little voice got louder – don’t say it, Alex, I’m begging you not to say it, it’s like you’re actively trying to ruin your own life, you absolute–

“Willie.”

In eery synchrony, Luke, Julie, and Reggie all looked to each other with identical expressions of shock and bewilderment and then turned back to Alex with furrowed brows.

“Willie?” they all chorused.

Alex pursed his lips and rocked on the balls of his feet, suddenly regretting every decision he’d made that had brought him to this point in his life. “Yep.”

“I thought your thing with him finished like six months ago?” Julie said.

“Well, there wasn’t really much of a thing to finish,” Reggie reasoned, “just Alex’s pining from afar that had lasted for like four years–”

“Yes, thank you, Reginald,” Alex interrupted. It wasn’t that Reggie was wrong, Alex just didn’t like how right he was. “And yeah, it did… I guess. But then we were hanging out together a few months ago and it was really nice and we started doing it more often and eventually he asked me on a date.”

Alex was overly aware that every word he had just said was an utter lie. Firstly, he had never really got over Willie – Willie wasn’t the sort of person you could just forget or move on from, even though Alex had never actually dated him. Secondly, Alex and Willie hadn’t actually hung out together alone in quite a while. Willie had been busy with their blossoming art career, going to different presentations and awards shows, trying to make a name for himself; Alex, on the other hand, had been doing his best to avoid dating anyone. And thirdly, Willie had never once asked Alex on a date.

He knew he should have backtracked, told them the truth, but he was in far too deep.

“This has been going on for a few months?” Luke said incredulously. “How have you kept it from us that long? Dude, you just let Reggie and I spend literally all our free time trying to find you a boyfriend!”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“You could have told us to stop,” Reggie said.

“I did,” Alex returned. “Several times.”

Julie raised her hands placatingly. “Okay, okay. That’s not important right now. What’s important is that Alex and Willie are finally together. Are you sure they’ll be alright with you telling us while he’s not here?”

Alex shrugged, trying to act like he wasn’t too sure (which was easy because he’d never been less sure of anything at any time in his life). “Umm… well… we haven’t really talked about it much, but… you know, I’m sure he won’t mind too much. I’ll tell them tonight.”

Julie smiled warmly. “Well, I’m happy for you in any case. It’s nice that you’ve finally got what you wanted for so long.”

“Amen to that,” Luke said, finally picking up his guitar. Alex had all but forgotten they were supposed to be practising instead of talking about his very fake relationship with Willie which Willie didn’t even know about. “And Reg and I can finally stop looking for someone.”

“Could’ve stopped before you’d even started,” Alex said, sitting down behind his drumkit, “but alright.”

He knew that sooner or later he would have to tell Willie what he’d done and he was absolutely dreading it. Willie was a very chill person and Alex knew they’d probably find it funny more than anything, but it was still a daunting prospect. But for now, he focused himself on his drums, hammering out all of that excess anxiety, and forgetting the absolute nightmare he’d created for himself just for a little bit.

It was nearing one o’clock in the morning and Alex was very much not ready to go to sleep. For one thing, he was still wearing his clothes instead of pyjamas, and for another he was pacing his room like a caged lion with anxiety and had been doing so for almost three hours. He was trying to build up the courage to call Willie and let him know what had gone on, but he was so nervous that he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to string a sentence together if Willie picked up the phone.

He knew he would just have to bite the bullet. He couldn’t put it off forever or it would end in disaster. For the thousandth time he reminded himself that Willie was the kindest, funniest, most good-natured person he knew and that he had nothing to be scared of when it came to telling them that he had made a massive, probably damning mistake. Willie would be fine with it, Alex knew.

Before he could dwell on it a second longer, Alex dialled Willie’s number and let it ring.

It only rang twice before Willie picked up. Even though it was late, Alex had known Willie would pick up (the guy hardly slept at all) and he fought the urge to tell him to go to bed.

“Morning,” Willie said chirpily.

Alex checked the time and blinked in surprise; he hadn’t realise how long he’d been pacing for.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he said. “How come you’re still awake?”

“Mario Kart,” they replied. Alex could practically hear Willie’s smile – suddenly there were butterflies in his already anxious stomach and they certainly weren’t helping. “Why are you still awake? I thought your bedtime was half nine.”

“It hasn’t been in two years and you know that,” Alex said. Willie giggled brightly which teased a smile out of Alex. “I, uh… I actually need to talk to you about something that happened today.”

Just get on with it, he told himself, don’t drag it out.

“Oh?” Willie said. “What is it? You sound nervous – do you need me to come over?”

“No,” Alex told him, “it’s late – or maybe early. Either way, you don’t need to come all the way to my place just so I can tell you this.”

“It sounds serious.”

“It might be,” Alex admitted. “It depends on how you take it.”

There was a brief silence on the other end and for a moment Alex wondered if Willie had decided to end the conversation, but then they said, “Alright, let me just pause the game.”

Another short pause as Willie stopped mid-race. Alex took the opportunity to collect himself, shake out his nerves. It would be fine. Willie would be fine with it.

“Okay,” he said a moment later. “I’m back. What’s going on, hotdog?”

Alex scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck, suddenly unsure where to start.

“Okay,” he began uncertainly. “Well… Luke and Reg have been trying to set me up with someone for a while now and I’ve been trying to avoid it as much as I can. I’ve sort of run out of excuses and you know how difficult it is for me to say no to them.”

Willie hummed knowingly. “Like with the Great Cactus Robbery of 2019.”

Alex winced at the memory – he hadn’t realised cactus spikes hurt quite that much, but he’d gone through with a lot that night for Luke and Reggie’s sake.

“Don’t remind me,” he said witheringly. “Anyway, you know what I’m talking about then. They told me about another guy earlier today and I really needed another excuse to give them. I tried just point-blank telling them no, but then they started asking questions and…”

“And?” Willie prompted.

“I told them I was seeing someone,” Alex said. There was silence on the other end. “I told them I was seeing you.”

After a moment or two (that felt like an eternity) Willie burst out laughing. Alex sighed, affronted, but he supposed it was one of the better reactions he could have got. At least Willie wasn’t angry at him.

“Why?” Willie wheezed between laughs. “Was that seriously the first thing that came to your mind?”

“Yes,” Alex grumbled. “I was under a lot of pressure. You were the obvious choice.”

They giggled happily and Alex realised just how true those words had been – whether he liked it or not, Willie would always be the obvious choice for him.

“Well, I’m flattered,” they told him, blatantly trying to contain their giggles. “Thank you for thinking of me, hotdog.”

“You’re welcome,” Alex said. “But I’m sorry about it too. I’ve created an absolute mess and dragged you into it, so I understand if you’re angry at me.”

“Does it sound like I’m angry at you?”

“No?”

“That’s because I’m not,” Willie said kindly. “I get it, man, you just panicked. No big deal. Besides, we can ride this out easily.”

Alex blinked. “We can?”

“Sure, man, it’ll be fun. We’ll pretend to date for a few weeks, have a friendly breakup, and then everything can go back to normal.”

“You’re sure?” Alex checked. This hadn’t been what he was expecting – he’d thought Willie would say it didn’t matter but he needed to come clean. He hadn’t been expecting the offer of dating.

Fake dating, said that irritating little voice in his head. It’s not real. Don’t let yourself forget that.

“Of course I’m sure,” they said. “I mean, it’s totally cool if you don’t want to, but surely it’ll be easier than backtracking completely with the others. And it’ll get Reggie and Luke off your back for a little while longer.”

He considered it, weighing up the pros and cons. On one hand, he’d get to date Willie at last, something he’d wanted to do since he met him. It would give them more of a chance to hang out together, Luke and Reggie would stop pestering him, and it was always fun to harmlessly mess with his friends. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure his sentimental little heart could stand getting to date Willie and then having him taken away even if that was the arrangement from the very start.

But it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

“Alright,” he said resolutely. “I’m in.”

“Cool,” Willie returned happily. “Shall we meet tomorrow to discuss, you know, like, boundaries and stuff like that?”

“Sounds great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He heard Willie press play on his game, the unmistakable sound of an item box being broken on Mario Kart.

“See you tomorrow, Alex,” Willie said. “Or maybe now we’re dating I should be calling you ‘babe’ or something.”

If that made Alex’s heart flutter, he wouldn’t say anything about it. “We’ll go over pet names tomorrow. Goodnight, Willie.”

“Goodnight, babe.”

As Alex put his phone down and launched himself into bed (still fully clothed but suddenly far too tired to even consider getting changed) he thought to himself that there probably couldn’t have been a better outcome.

Alex had expected the meeting with Willie to feel awkward and weirdly formal, but it was completely the opposite. Both of them were in high spirits the whole time, jokingly holding hands and making heart eyes at each other, laughing every time one of them used a particularly ridiculous pet name for the other. (When Alex had called Willie ‘sugarpoops’ he had thought they might die from laughing.)

But the meeting was productive too. They set some effective boundaries – any touching was allowed, just not too intimate; kissing was fine, but only to prove a point; and just for the fun of it they agreed they had to act like the most sickeningly in-love couple the world had ever known. Alex didn’t really care if that would give the whole thing away, it seemed like a bit of fun and it would be useful when it came to reminding himself that none of this was actually real.

That bit, he had to admit, still stung.

He and Willie had arranged to meet Luke, Reggie, and Julie at the studio that afternoon, so spent the day together beforehand. Just to try and get into the swing of things, they treated their morning together as a mini date. Alex took Willie to minigolf, then they went to an ice cream parlour, and after that Willie tried to teach Alex how to skateboard for fifteen minutes before Alex got too nervous and gave up. It was fun and Alex tried not to think about the fact that this was the reality he was missing out on – if he imagined he was just hanging out with Willie as a friend, which in a way he was, then it was just about bearable.

They arrived outside the studio together and they could hear the other band members’ voices already inside. Alex’s stomach started squirming nervously which he thought was weird. He didn’t actually have anything to be nervous about – he and Willie weren’t really dating.

But still, he was starting to feel a little bit queasy and was seriously considering just running away.

Then he felt Willie’s hand slip into his and their fingers lace together. He looked down at them and saw that he had a kind, soft smile on his face, gently encouraging.

“Ready to be my boyfriend, sweetheart?” Willie asked teasingly.

The nerves didn’t disappear, but Alex found it a lot easier to ignore them after that.

“Always,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

Without another moment’s hesitation, Alex pushed open the studio door and led Willie inside. Julie, Luke, and Reggie all hushed immediately and looked at the couple like they’d been caught red-handed. If their guilty expressions were anything to go by, they had been talking about Alex and Willie before they had walked in. He could only guess as to what they had been saying, but at that point Alex hardly thought it mattered.

It was showtime.

“Hey guys,” he said, grinning broadly. “What are you talking about?”

The three all responded at the same time but with wildly different answers.

“That gig next week,” blurted Luke.

“I lost my favourite hairclip,” Julie explained.

“I’m thinking of buying a horse,” Reggie told them.

Alex and Willie looked at each other, trying to hide their amusement.

“Anyway,” Julie said, “doesn’t matter what we were talking about! Because you’re here now, both of you! And you’re dating!”

Without warning, Willie giggled brightly and attached himself to Alex like a koala to a tree. Alex laughed and threw his arms around Willie, holding them tightly, pressing a firm kiss to the top of their head.

“I feels so good to finally have it out in the open,” Willie gushed, gazing at Alex with pure adoration in his eyes. “Right, sugarplum?”

Alex gently rubbed the tip of his nose against Willie’s, fighting the urge to laugh. “Of course, my little cheesecake.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Alex could see his friends’ expressions – he had to close his eyes so he wouldn’t be able to see them, otherwise he definitely would have broken character and started laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. Luke looked utterly horrified, like the display of affection was disgusting; Julie was staring at the two of them wide-eyed, her face flushed red, looking like she would rather be anywhere else; and Reggie just looked baffled.

After a while, Julie cleared her throat and the couple turned to look at her innocently.

“So,” she said, “we’ve heard Alex’s version of the story, but Willie – how did… all this happen?”

Willie linked his arm through Alex’s marched the two of them over to the couch and sat Alex down, then sat primly on his lap, laying their head against Alex’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you asked.”

“I’m not,” Luke muttered, “this is weird.”

Julie kicked his shin and he shut his mouth.

“I had been watching Alex from afar ever since we met, but I didn’t think a cool, handsome drummer could ever care about someone like me. I was convinced we would only ever be friends. But then we hung out together and I saw all these different sides to his personality – he’s so caring and soft, you know, and he means everything he says. Alex isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met. So I decided to just go for it, ask him out, admit how I feel.”

Alex stroked a hand through Willie’s hair, eyes fixed on him. “Since then we’ve never looked back. And we never will.”

“Oh, my darling!” Willie exclaimed, throwing themself at Alex and pressing a kiss to his lips.

It certainly wasn’t how Alex had envisioned his first kiss with Willie going (and he had envisioned a great many different versions of it) but in a strange way it felt just right. Sure, they weren’t dating, but they were hanging out together, having fun, being in each other’s company and loving every second of it. Maybe the circumstances weren’t exactly what Alex wanted, but the love they held for one another was still there, nothing could take that away.

So maybe it wasn’t the best decision he’d ever made, but Alex let himself get lost in the kiss. He didn’t know how many times he’d get to do this in his life, so he figured it was better to make the most of it. He blocked out the fact that his friends were right there (a sure sign that he wasn’t thinking straight – absently he knew that he would be very embarrassed by this when it was all over) and just focused on Willie.

And he was sure he wasn’t imagining the fact that Willie seemed to be enjoying it just as much.

When Julie eventually cleared her throat again, they separated. But Alex couldn’t take his eyes off Willie. He knew he wasn’t imagining what he’d felt in that kiss – like sparks had flown between them, forcing their dynamic into something much more than friendly banter and an inside joke. Willie’s eyes were glassy and he was breathing heavily, scanning Alex’s face for something, though Alex didn’t know what. All he knew was that the kiss had pushed the boundaries they had spent all morning setting and if he wasn’t more careful he would lose himself to this silly little charade.

The five of them spent the rest of the afternoon and evening just talking to each other. Willie stayed firmly planted in Alex’s lap and they both used the occasional cutesy nickname for each other, but it seemed as if both of them had silently made the decision to tone things down a little bit. Luke seemed relieved about it at least – for all the heart eyes he made at Julie he certainly seemed uncomfortable at the affection Alex and Willie had shown. It was probably because Alex hardly ever showed love like that in front of people.

But god, he wanted to do it all again.

Luckily, it didn’t seem like any of their friends suspected Alex and Willie of lying to them. By the time they were all on their way home – Alex and Willie walking away hand in hand – nobody had brought up the fact that it could all be fake.

“That went well,” Willie said as they walked along the seafront, heading back to his place. The cold night breeze lifted their hair and Alex couldn’t keep his eyes off them, not when they were looking so beautiful.

“Yeah,” he said, watching the way the amber glow of the streetlamps danced in Willie’s eyes. “It did.”

“Have you thought about how long we’re going to do this for?” Willie asked. Alex was sure he heard nervousness in Willie’s tone, maybe mingled with hope.

He shrugged. “A few weeks maybe. Unless you had something else in mind.”

“No, no, that’s fine, man.” They had arrived at Willie’s apartment building and stopped just outside of it. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, smiling smally. “See you tomorrow.”

He didn’t know what he was thinking – he had expected a goodnight kiss from Willie, but instead he was left alone in the cold as Willie let go of his hand and hurried into the building. Alex was suddenly reminded again that it was all fake, that he shouldn’t have expected kisses when they were alone.

It hurt though. He knew that kiss earlier had been more than just top-notch acting.

He fell asleep that night, still thinking about it, the memory replaying on a loop in his mind. In one way or another, Willie was going to drive him crazy.

The next two weeks flew by. Alex found himself hanging out just with Willie more and more often, playing Mario Kart together at Willie’s insistence, going on more dates that weren’t actually dates, or even just video-chatting each other while doing their own separate things to enjoy the company.

After that first day as a “couple”, Alex was sure Willie’s confidence had been knocked. For the next few days they withdrew himself from Alex and Alex didn’t know if he’d done something wrong or if it was just something on Willie’s mind. Still, he let Willie work through it, and a few days later he was back to normal, clinging to Alex like a barnacle to a ship, calling him every pet name under the sun.

And still their friends were none the wiser.

The end of their time as a couple came all too quickly. Alex walked Willie back to his apartment again, a heaviness in his heart. He didn’t know how an actual breakup felt, but he was willing to bet that a breakup would be less painful than whatever this was. No part of him wanted to give this up, whatever silly little thing was going on between him and Willie – it was fun, it was freeing, it gave Alex a light feeling in his chest and made him so happy he thought he might burst at any moment. He didn’t want to give any of it up.

But still he walked Willie to his door.

They stood facing each other, hands interlinked between them, sad smiles on each of their faces. Alex tried to memorise every detail on Willie’s face as if it was the last time he would see them.

“This has been fun,” he said eventually, his voice low, quiet in the night air.

“You can say that again,” Willie agreed. “I loved being your boyfriend.”

“I loved being your boyfriend.”

Something flickered in Willie’s eyes, an expression gone too quickly for Alex to name, but it was quickly forgotten because a moment later Willie stood up on his tiptoes and kissed Alex.

It wasn’t like any of the other kisses they had shared in the past few weeks. There was nothing over-the-top and exaggerated about it, it wasn’t just a stunt they pulled to fool their friends. It was slow and soft and Alex felt the rest of his body go fuzzy and numb as all he could concentrate on was Willie’s lips on his.

An eternity later, Willie pulled away, his eyes scanning Alex’s face.

Alex swallowed heavily and said, “I thought we could only kiss each other to prove a point.”

Willie nodded. “Did I not get my point across very well? Do I need to kiss you again?”

Alex almost laughed but something stopped him. “Just… just explain it to me first. So I don’t get the wrong idea.”

“I loved being your boyfriend,” Willie said. “You enjoyed being my boyfriend. So… why should we stop?”

Alex felt his head spin. Somehow the nightmare he’d created for himself all those weeks ago was turning into a dream come true.

“You mean that?” he asked. “Tell me you mean that, Willie, please.”

“I mean it,” Willie said resolutely. “I’ve felt this way about you for too long just to let it go. If you want me then I want you. I want to date you, Alex. For real.”

Alex kissed him again, short but sweet.

“Is that a yes?” Willie asked, giggling.

“There’s no other answer I could have ever given.”

Even though they remained boyfriends (real ones this time), Alex and Willie decided to drop the over-the-top, lovey-dovey stuff. It was fun, but it wasn’t them. Instead, they chose to fill every second together with quiet declarations of love, casual dates, soft kisses, nothing that wasn’t real.

But they never did tell Luke, Reggie, and Julie how much of it had been fake.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @boggie-brainrot @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @tmp-jatp @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright @sylphrenas @callmeontheleyline

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reidingandwriting · 3 years

Text

Chapter Two- “no body, no crime”

“No body, no crime. I wasn’t letting go until the day he died.”

Word Count: ~2300 words

Warnings: Drinking (legal), missing person, references to death & murder, mentions of an affair, mentions of guns and blood

Characters Mentioned: Neutral!Reader

Minor Original Characters Featured: Este, Lennox, Mark, Bella, Detective Hooper

A/N: I am soooo sorry for how long this chapter took to come out! Between college starting back up and spraining my wrist in a fall, it’s been impossible to write. But here is chapter two!! This chapter is where things really start to happen, and next chapter we’ll see some familiar faces again 😉 Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy the chapter!

Previous chapter

Next chapter

A few days later…

“I hope you don’t mind, but I might be pre-gaming for our dinner tomorrow.” You had said while on the phone with your friend Este the night before. “The last few days have been.. brutal.” You knew she could hear the shakiness in your voice, the remnants of the tears unshed as you tried to keep them at bay. But she didn’t say anything, and that’s why you loved her so much.

“Be safe and I’ll see you tomorrow. Drink one for me.” You let out a teary laugh and hummed in agreement as you took another sip from your wine glass. “Love you, Y/N.”

“Love you, too. Goodnight.” “Goodnight.”

You rushed into Olive Garden the next day, a jacket over your head in an attempt to shelter yourself from the rain that started the second you parked at the restaurant. The cherry on top of your day. You fixed your hair haphazardly before you looked around the dining room, and you smiled when your eyes landed on your friend, at your usual booth.

“Y/N, welcome back. You know your way to your spot now, I’ll be right there with your usual.” Lennox, a familiar waiter, said as they passed you, a bright smile on their lips.

“What would we do without you, Lennox?” You offered a smile as you walked over to Este.

“I’m a big fan of the rained-on look, Y/N. Not many can rock that like you.” You rolled your eyes as you sat down across from her, and you took in your friend’s appearance. Her eyes were tired, the concealer applied a little heavier under her eyes than usual. Her outfit looked flawless, but her nail polish on her thumb was chipped. Her hair held their curls beautifully, except for the one curl that had been messed with until it was nearly straight- her nervous habit.

“Oh, you know, nothing like a little rainstorm to spice up my outfit. Who needs to accessorize when you can get rained on?” You paused as your waiter came over with a glass of your favorite wine, and you thanked them before looking at Este. “You look tired.” You swirled your glass of wine before taking a sip, giving her a chance to speak.

“I hate profilers, you know that?” She sighed but confessed. “It’s Mark. He’s been… off lately. I think he’s cheating on me.” You raised a brow at Este, setting your glass down to speak.

“Why do you think that?”

“He comes home from work late with the taste of cheap merlot on his mouth, and I got the latest bank statement. I don’t know what he got at the jewelers, but it isn’t mine.” She took a sip of her wine before looking at you, her eyes filled with determination. “I think I’m gonna call him out.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have any solid evidence yet, and I don’t want you rushing into something you might regret.”

“Evidence? You’re making it sound like he committed a crime, Y/N. He may be a cheater, but he isn’t, like, a murderer.” Este drummed her fingers against the table. “And you’re right. I can’t prove it yet.” She paused as our food was set up at our table and didn’t speak again until the waiter walked off. “But I’ll catch him, and that’s a promise.”

You sat at your usual booth, and you took small sips from your glass of water as you scrolled through your phone. You were distracted though, and it was obvious. Your eyes flickered from your phone, back to the dining room, back to your phone. It had been nearly half an hour since you arrived at Olive Garden, and you hadn’t heard from Este. Este had an occasional habit of running late, but she’d always text or call you saying she was on her way. You checked your messages and voicemail once more and frowned when you saw you hadn’t missed anything. You took another sip of your water as you settled back into the booth. I’ll wait another half hour, you decided.

Straight to voicemail. “Este. Call me back when you can, please. It’s been an hour, and I haven’t heard from you.”

Straight to voicemail. You dialed another number, panic beginning to rise in you. “Hi, Eleanor. Did Este come into work today? No? Okay, thank you. Bye.”

Straight to voicemail. “I hope you’re okay, but I’m so mad at you for scaring me like this. Let me know you’re okay, please? I’m calling Mark now. Love you.”

“The Fairfax City Police are asking for help regarding the disappearance of Este Williams. Mrs. Williams was reported to be seen last by her husband, Mark Williams, when she left due to an emergency call at work Monday evening. A friend of Mrs. Williams was supposed to meet with her on Tuesday evening, but Mrs. Williams never showed, leading to her husband reporting her missing that night. On screen is the most recent picture of Mrs. Williams and if anyone has any leads on her disappearance, please call the number listed below. An investigation has been opened and a local search and rescue will be organized.”

You couldn’t remember how long you had been in your car. You didn’t have a destination in mind when you left this morning, but you found yourself driving around Fairfax, around all of Este’s favorite spots. Sal’s Diner, the botanical garden, Wendy’s Coffee Shop. Everywhere you two frequented you had driven past that day, but there was no sign of Este anywhere. A week had passed since she was reported missing, and the local police department’s presence slowly faded into the usual patrols. Two weeks later, the search party had been called in and seemed to grow smaller and smaller with each passing day. Their discouragement was obvious due to the lack of findings regarding Este, whispers spreading through the streets that she had just left for bigger things. But you refused to believe your best friend had uprooted and disappeared without even a text. She had just been accepted into her doctorate program at Georgetown, she was supposed to attend her sister’s wedding. Something was off about this situation, and you spent your free time looking for anything that could result in finding your friend.

By the end of the night, you found yourself in her neighborhood. You drove past her house, slowing to a stop when you noticed an unfamiliar car in the driveway. You then noticed Mark’s truck beside the car, the usually dirty vehicle now cleaned to where it almost sparkled in the moonlight. You parked off to the side, and you strained to look into the windows of the home. You could see the brief silhouette of Mark standing, and a woman on the couch. The unanswered call and texts flashed through your mind, and you gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles turning white from the harshness of your grip. Deep breath, Y/N, relax. You took a deep breath and relaxed your fingers, turned your car off, and leaned back in your seat. Not your first stakeout, and it won’t be your last. You knew Mark was involved but you just couldn’t prove it. Yet. And when you can prove it, Mark better pray to every god above.

Days had passed since you first started watching Mark. Your days started to blend into a cycle: your new glamorous job cleaning houses, a quick trip home to change, then driving to Este and Mark’s house. There were moving trucks the other day, Mark’s mistress moving in. Into Este’s home, where she slept. The garden she grew was torn out and covered up, every sign of Este ever existing was disappearing day by day. Deep down, you knew you couldn’t do anything to Mark. You weren’t in the FBI anymore, you couldn’t touch him. But all rationality had flown out the window when your friend’s disappearance had reached a month. You had spent hours in your car, waiting for the perfect time to find any evidence that would prove what Mark had done. And finally, an opportunity jumped out at you.

You had a day off work and you found yourself on the front porch of Este and Mark’s house. There was Mark’s truck in the driveway, and as you knocked on the front door, you had to control your emotions. Feelings of rage coursed through your veins, and you shoved your hands into your pockets. Inhale, one two three, exhale. You are calm, cool, and collected. The door swung open and you plastered on a smile when you were greeted by Mark’s face.

“Mark, hi. How are you? May I come in?” Mark’s confused expression morphed into a nervous expression, but he nodded and stepped aside.

“Please, come in.” Mark smiled at you, but you quickly recognized the fake smile. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting company. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just want to talk.” You walked through the doorway, the weight of your gun tucked into its spot in your waistband, concealed by your jacket. “About Este.” You closed the door and locked it behind you.

“Bella?” You asked as Este’s sister answered the phone. “I need a massive favor.”

“Of course, anything. What is it?”

“If anyone asks, I was with you today. We spent the afternoon together. Boating.” A pause.

“Is everything okay, Y/N?”

“I promise I’m okay. Speaking of boating, the Potomac River is gorgeous this time of year. We should go soon. This weekend?”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll bring drinks, you sound like you could use a few.”

“Trust me, B. This is the best I’ve felt in a long time.”

A knock on the door interrupted you from your reading, and you walked to the door. You opened the door to reveal a police officer standing on your front step.

“May I help you, Officer?”

“Detective Hooper. May I come in?” Detective Hooper flashed his badge and you nodded, letting him in.

“Please, come in. Help yourself to a seat, can I offer you a drink?” You asked as you led him to the living room, where you sat on the couch. The detective took a seat on the opposite end, and you sat up straight, attentive.

“That won’t be necessary. Y/N Y/L/N, I was the detective assigned to the case of your friend, Este Williams. As you are likely aware, there’s been no new developments in her disappearance case. Until today.” Look shocked, you don’t know this. You looked at Detective Hooper with furrowed brows. “What was a disappearance case has now evolved into a murder case, and I believe Mrs. Williams was the first victim, Mr. Williams being the second.”

“What?” You let your head fall back against the couch and screwed your eyes shut. “She’s really- they’re really? They’re dead?”

“We still have yet to find Mrs. Williams, but we received a call that led to us recovering Mark Williams’s body in the Potomac River.” Detective Hooper looked at you with what you believed to be sympathy. The best he could show it with his job, at least. Okay, a little more sad. Your bottom lip trembled as you rubbed your eyes, taking a shaky breath.

“What are you going to do? To find my friend? And to get justice for her husband?”

“That’s what I’m here for. We have no leads in this case, and you’re the closest person to the Williams, except for Mrs. Williams’s sister. I have a couple of questions if that’s okay?”

“It’s okay.” You sat up. “Anything to help.” You answered a few questions about how you knew the Williams, emphasis on your background with Este, and questions that delved deep into the relationship of Mark and Este. Did they have any problems? Who were their friends? Their enemies? Then the questions turned to you. What had you done the day Mr. Williams was murdered?

“Well, I’d usually have work. Cleaning houses.” You thought back to earlier, where you washed the blood splatter off your face, then cleaned your car to perfection. “But I had a day off. So I went to the docks and got my boat, it was a beautiful day on the Potomac.”

“You have a boating license?”

“My dad made me get one when I was fifteen.” You smiled. “Birthday present.”

“Were you alone?” He asked and leveled you with a look, in an attempt to see if you’d crack.

“Este’s sister was with me.” You didn’t hesitate. “Ever since Este’s disappearance, I’ve been spending more time with her than I did before.” You admitted. Detective Hooper studied your face for a minute before he sighed.

“Thank you for answering all my questions. If you can think of anything else that could help us solve this case, please give me a call.” He handed you his card and you took it, and you tucked it into your pocket. “I’ll get out of your hair now. Thank you again for your time.” You and the detective stood and you walked with him to the door. As he let himself out, you paused to speak.

“Detective?” He turned around to face you again. “I don’t know if this is any help, but I’d check into Mark’s mistress.”

“An arrest has been made in the disappearance of Este Williams and the murder of Mark Williams of Fairfax, Virginia. Mrs. Williams has yet to be found, but Mr. Williams was found to be murdered. Investigations are still underway and if there are any clues on the location of Mrs. Williams, please call the number below to be directed to our hotline.”

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lottiebagley · 3 years

Text

Till forever falls apart- Fred Weasley

Out on our own Dreamin' in a world that we both know It's out of our control But if shit hits the fan, we're not alone

Fred Weasley lived in his own little world. He had his friends who he eagerly invited in but he was never particularly aware of the world around him. He never needed to look any further than his circle of friends.

She fell in love with Fred Weasley instantly. From the moment she saw him she wanted to be around him. Something about him made her heart beat faster and her mind run miles. She wanted Fred Weasley in every room she entered.

He never really noticed her.

She was the year below him at school and he never needed to know who she was.

His little world didn't include her and so he barely realised she existed.

That was until she arrived at his quidditch practice in floods of tears in the middle of his third year at school.

Fred had watched in shock when Oliver Wood immediately called a break mid-practice, something he never does, and rushes down to the crying second year.

Fred notices as he flies back towards the ground that despite being in tears the girl is beautiful. Something about her so raw and vulnerable. He pushes the thought away because what 13 year old is looking at a 12 year old, he doesn't quite understand the difference between them is a mere 6 months.

"What's got Wood all caring? Hope he's not dating a child the pedo," Fred jokes to his friends who all seem to look at him like he's grown a second head, even Harry, who had only been on the team for four months.

"That's his sister you moron," Angelina Johnson states, rolling her eyes.

Thinking really hard Fred can almost remember knowing that Oliver Wood had a sister, he just never took the time to realise who she was. He watched from afar as Oliver comforts the girl before she settles in the stands and practice resumes.

The entire time Fred feels drawn to her. Glancing towards her every so often and watching as she reads her book, occasionally glancing up at the practice.

When Oliver finally calls time Fred watches as the girl walks down to the pitch, eaves dropping as Oliver tells her to wait for 5 minutes while he changes. Fred sees his opportunity to talk to her, wanting too not just because she's beautiful but because something about her seems to pull him in, he runs to the locker room and grabs his bag before heading out to the pitch where she's standing.

"Hey, I'm Fred," He grins brightly to the girl who blushes just from the way he looks directly into her eyes, looks into them like he can see her very soul.

"I'm y/n, Oli's sister," She introduces herself, he nods

"You alright? You- well-"

"Showed up a sobbing mess?"

"Yeah," He nods, chuckling a little at how direct she is

"I'm fine. I've been arguing with this girl in my dorm a bit recently. I'll be honest she's kind of a bitch,"

"Really? Who is she? I'll prank her for you," Fred offers brightly

"Florrie Watson, but you really don't have to. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble,"

"I have no clue who that is but just you wait, once I find this Florrie Watson she won't know what hit her. And don't even worry about me getting into trouble, I've done it for much less beautiful girls," Fred promises, the girl giggles a little and Fred would do anything to be the cause of that giggle again and again for the rest of his life.

"Thanks Fred," She smiles, he grins back brightly, fishing around in his bag

"Here, have a chocolate frog, they always make me feel better," He offers, she smiles gratefully accepting the frog as Oliver exits the changing room. He strides over, nodding his end in a goodbye to Fred before leading the girl off talking about a game or exploding snap and some hot chocolate.

Fred Weasley would never forget the image of her, a few feet away, turning over her shoulder to shoot him a warm smile.

Three days later she arrives at breakfast to see Florrie Watson with bright green hair and exploding boils on her face. When she looks to Fred he sends her a knowing wink before returning to his breakfast.

She was utterly in love with Fred Weasley and maybe one day he would feel the same.

Cause you've got me and you know That I've got you and I know

Fred does feel the same. He doesn't realise for a while but he falls just as hard.

Once she's become part of his little world she is a staple of it.

They chat in the common room, she helps out with pranks, they tease Oliver together.

They grow close over the next two and a half years and so on the platform ready for his sixth year at Hogwarts, Fred is more than excited to see her.

Although, he had probably been in love with her for a while, the realisation happens all at once.

He turns around to see her charging down the platform, skillfully avoiding bumping into people, as she runs towards him and George. She has a bright grin on her face and her eyes are shining with excitement.

She throws her arms around Fred who wraps her in a tight hug lifting her into the air to spin her around.

It's as her easy laughter floats into his ears he realises he's a goner.

That he is madly in love with her.

Despite feeling anxious at the realisation he wouldn't have it any other way.

He places her down gently and smiles happily as she grins up at him "Missed you Freddie," She grins and with that she's moving to pull George into an equally tight hug.

"I'll never understand why you come from Scotland all the way to London to go back to Scotland," George teases her as he releases her from his tight grip.

"Becuase floo powder takes literally seconds and otherwise everyone gets fun memories and I don't,"

"So you're scared of missing out," George deadpans

"You're happy to see me, right Freddie?" She beams, turning to the boy who is staring at her with a love struck grin on his face

"Couldn't be happier sweetheart," He confirms, she grins even bigger, although he hadn't thought it possible, before turning back to George

"See Georgie, some people actually like my presence," She jokes

"Don't remember saying I didn't," He chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender, she laughs loudly, swatting his hand down. She moves to say something but is stopped when her name is squealed from across the platform.

"I'll talk to you guys later," She informs, turning to run towards her best friend, the very Florrie Watson that Fred once pranked.

"George?"

"Yes, Fred."

"I think I'm in love with her," Fred speaks with confidence

"About time you figured it out," George smiles, patting his brother's shoulder with a laugh

If the tide takes California I'm so glad I got to hold ya And if the sky falls from Heaven above Oh, I know I had the best time fallin' into love

She was almost 100% sure she had no chance with Fred Weasley, that and that alone is why when Cormac McLaggen asks her out she says yes.

"Hi boys," She smiles, leaning over the sofa to stick her head between Fred and George

"You smell good," Fred comments, not really thinking about what he is saying but immediately recognising the scent as the one coming from the potions classroom that morning.

"Thanks Freddie," She grins happily

"You look good too, what's the occasion?" Lee questions, he's the only one who can fully see her from his arm chair across from the sofa the twins are sat on

"I've got a date," She shrugs. Fred feels his heart sink as he takes a deep breath, mustering his best fake smile, before putting on a 'totally fine' act, not wanting her to think he is mad, although right now he's thinking up a thousand ways to make whatever boy she's about to go on a date with's life a misery.

"Show us the outfit then," He chimes cheerily, she moves away to come around the sofa, George catching Fred's eye and sending him a sympathetic smile.

She looks beautiful as she stands in front of the boys. Fred letting out a dramatic wolf whistle and smiling when she blushes

"Give us a twirl then," George encourages, she laughs but plays along and twirls for the trio.

"Looking gorgeous," Lee compliments

"You really are," George adds. She smiles at them both before turning to Fred, his the only opinion that ever really mattered to her.

"You think I look alright?" She questions, he wonders for a second how she seems so anxious, like he doesn't think she looks like a piece of art people would wait hours to see even when she's just in her pjs in the common room.

"You look better than alright darling, absolutely beautiful. He's a lucky guy," He grins happily. She blushes a bright red, moving to respond before her name is called from across the room.

"See you later," She smiles to the trio before rushing off towards Cormac McLaggen who is eyeing the girl like she's a piece of meat.

Fred watches as he leads her out of the common room with a scowl on his face "Seriously? McLaggen of all people? If Oliver knew he'd murder Cormac and then he would murder us for letting it happen," He grumbles, receiving sympathetic grunts of agreement from his friends.

We've been livin' on a fault line And for a while you were all mine I've spent a lifetime givin' you my heart I swear that I'll be yours forever 'til forever falls apart 'Til forever falls apart

Fred feels his heart sink at the sight in front of him. Cormac McLaggen dancing at the ball with a girl who is most definitely not his current girlfriend.

He's exiting the ballroom quicker than his friends can work out what's going on. "She's in her dorm," it's the voice of Florrie that makes him stop his frantic search, turning to look at her, thinking it best to have a clue what's going on before he charges full steam at a problem.

"What happened?"

"He broke up with her this morning so he could bring Romilda. I tried to force her to come anyway but she didn't want to. Managed to talk her into her dress and we did her hair and makeup but she just wouldn't actually leave the dorm,"

"Prick!" Fred grumbles, shooting the younger girl a thankful smile, before running off in the direction of the Gryffindor tower.

When he arrives, slightly breathless, outside her dorm his heart sinks even further in his chest. He can hear her sniffles from inside her dorm, raising his hand to knock on the door.

"Florrie, please, I really don't want to go," she calls, her voice cracking a little.

"It's Fred," he calls back

"Oh, do you need anything?"

"Just wanna see you sweetheart," he responds gently

"You should be at the ball,"

"So should you," he calls, "I'm coming in," he adds.

The sight makes his blood boil in anger but also makes his heart beat race.

She looks beautiful, a long silver ball gown flowing around her, her hair curled and falling gently around her head, her makeup is smudged from crying but he can tell before the tears it was done to perfection. She looks like an angel walking the earth and he wants to kiss her right there and then.

At the same time though, he notices her red eyes and the tracks of mascara on her face. He thinks about Cormac and how horrendously he treated her and it takes everything in him not to turn around, march back to the hall and kill the stupid boy.

"You look beautiful,"

"I look a mess," she responds

"A beautiful mess," he sighs, moving to sit next to her on the narrow single bed.

"You look handsome Freddie," she smiles, resting her head on his shoulder, exhausted from crying all day.

"Thank you darling," he grabs her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze "There's no chance I can talk you to coming to the hall is there?" He asks

"No. You should get back though, I don't want to ruin your night,"

"Well my plans were to stare at the most beautiful girl in school from across the hall which I can't do when you're sat up here," he's completely honest but she laughs like it's a joke.

"It's your one ball at school,"

"Look, I know you don't quite realise how important you are to me, but I'm not just leaving you a crying mess on your own. So, you and I will stay up here all night," he decides

And they do.

He steals snacks from under Ron's bed and they sit up in her bed eating them. He makes her laugh and she cheers up a little. He catches Bertie Botts every flavour beans in his mouth and smears Cauldron Cake filling on her nose.

He talks her into dancing around her dorm with him. It's fast at first, music playing from her friends record player. When a slow song comes on he holds her close and strokes his hand up and down her back, she rests her hands on his shoulders and stares up into his eyes with a too quick heart beat and a need to kiss the boy she's head over heels for.

They drop to her bed, laying up as she explains what happened. She tells him that she never really liked Cormac all that much and it was the shame and embarrassment that hurt so much, it was the feeling of worthlessness.

Her friends filtered back from the ball one by one, finding them fast asleep in their ball outfits, her head on his chest and his arms holding her close.

So this is it, that's how it ends I guess there's nothing more romantic than dying with your friends And I'm not sorry for myself I wouldn't want to spend a minute lovin' anybody else

"Where too next pretty girl?" Fred questions with a smile, his arms wrapped around her shoulder, holding her to him as they walk through the warm streets of Hogsmeade, the first drops of summer warming the couple.

"Three Broomsticks?" She suggests, taking a lick of the caramel ice cream Fred had insisted on buying her in Honeydukes.

"Sure," He nods, beginning to walk in the right direction, swinging his Zonko's bag in his empty hand "How's the ice cream?"

"As good as ever, you wanna try some?" She questions, taking another lick before tilting her head upwards to look at him, he shrugs in agreement before a smirk takes over his face.

Her eyebrows raise in question before his thumb comes down, hand cupping her jaw, the thumb swiping over the corner of her lip and collecting a smear of ice cream, he pops it into his mouth, sucking the caramel flavour off as she stands staring up at him, eyes a little wide and mouth a jar.

"It's good," He nods, casually dropping his arm back around her shoulder and continuing on his was towards the pub. She allows herself to be tugged along, slightly in awe and massively in love as he somehow manages to act nonchalant, in reality his insides feel like they're on fire.

"Hey, Fred?" She questions as they walk, he hums gently in response, eyes flickering down to look at her

"Why no date this weekend?" She questions casually.

"Haven't been on a date in a while if I'm honest," He admits casually. It was true, for a while Fred was serial dater, she was so unattainable and so he occupied himself, tried to find someone who would make his heart beat just as fast as she did. That was until George informed him the more girls he dated who weren't her the less likely she was to admit to liking him if she felt the same, George knew she did, he could tell, not that Fred believed him.

"Very out of character," She teases, a smirk falling to her face "You lost all your game?"

"Why don't you consider how much you blushed when I tried your ice cream and answer that yourself?" He smirks, watching as she blushes once more but rolls her eyes at him.

The afternoon passes pleasantly, harmless flirting that makes them both overthink carrying the conversation.

It was a joke at first.

He had snuck into a small florist whilst she was talking to a girl from her year.

When he had returned to her side, the flowers held behind his back until the girl was gone, he smiles politely along with the conversation.

She had turned to him, ready to ask where he wanted to go next, and blushed madly when he held out a bouquet of sunflowers to her, he knew they were her favourites. She had taken them with a bashful smile and a teasing 'what have you done wrong to butter me up with flowers'

And it had been a joke when he responded.

"Nice guys buy their dates flowers Wood,"

The reality of what he said hit the pair hard as his eyes widen at the realisation. He can practically see the cogs turning in her head before she whispers

"Is this a date?"

He almost lies. Tells her she's insane and that she's like a sister and he had just been messing with her.

But then he sees it.

The flicker of hopefulness in her eyes.

"I hope it can be," He admits, breathless although he's not quite sure what from.

"Okay, date it is," She confirms, tugging the flowers to her chest in one hand and taking his hand in the other.

'Cause you've got me and you know That I've got you and I know

Fred's foot taps loudly on the floor, a rapid beat ringing through the kitchen.

"You're up early," Molly comments as she enters the kitchen, she's unsurprised by her son's presence in the kitchen even though it is hours before he would normally wake up.

"My girlfriend gets here today. Merlin, mum, you didn't forget did you?" He questions.

It had taken hours and hours for Fred to be able to convince his mother and all the other adults involved to allow his girlfriend to stay for the last two weeks of summer given the location of the Order was supposed to be a secret.

It was eventually Remus' declaration of trust for the girl over dinner after a meeting one night that forced the adult's agreement. "Of course not sweetheart," His mother assures, a loving smile on her face as she watches her son who she's never seen happier. "You know she's not getting here until the afternoon though and that Remus is meeting her in Diagon Alley and he hasn't even woken up yet, let alone left,"

"I know. Just couldn't sleep," Fred admits, rolling his eyes at the beam that overtakes Molly's face

"You really love her?"

"I do. If it means anything I think you will too,"

"I'm sure I will dear," Molly smiles, squeezing her son's shoulder before moving to prepare breakfast.

6 hours later the door is pulled open and Fred feels his heart practically double in size. She hadn't been expecting her boyfriend to be sat on the stairs staring at the front door waiting for her, he had been there since his old professor left. She had been talking happily with the older man, something about her brother's new quidditch job from what Fred heard before she's silenced.

She let's out a mildly shocked laugh when two arms wrap around her, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around in circles. He places her back to the ground, staring down at her with a bright grin that's mirrored on her face as she stares back up.

Half the order and all the kids have now made their way to the front door to watch the couple's reunion. No one can deny that the entire house seems warmer now that their love is filling the walls. No one can question that it's love to the very truest form as they watch the couple stare at each other.

"You're entire family and a load of people I don't know are staring at us," She whispers, only he can hear and he chuckles a little, his arms still wrapped around her waist as her hands rest on his chest.

He can faintly hear the scream of Walburga Black's portrait followed by Tonks shouting 'shit I tripped, did I miss it?', her question answered by Ginny's laughter and a 'They haven't even kissed yet'

"I'm going to kiss you anyway darling, because it's all I've been thinking about for the past four weeks an-"

He's cut off when her hand tugs him down by his shirt, his lips meeting her for the first time in a month. It's not the most magical of kisses, a little toothy from both their wide grins and ruined by the onlookers and Ron's dramatic faux gags.

She pulls away quickly, not wanting to seem disrespectful and giggles when his lips chase after hers "Next time don't talk so much and just kiss me," She teases in a quiet whisper, just for him, he lets out a breathy laugh as she pats his cheek before squeezing past him in the corridor, approaching Mrs Weasley with a tentative smile.

She's pulled into a hug by the woman before being lead into the kitchen. Fred watches from the doorway as she's introduced to everyone and happily greets his siblings, a lovestruck smile on his face.

If the tide takes California I'm so glad I got to hold ya And if the sky falls from Heaven above Oh, I know I had the best time fallin' into love

Fred sits on the cabinet, his legs open as she stands inside them.

"You really need to stay out of trouble," She comments quietly, trying to be gentle as she dabs the open wound on the back of his hand clean.

"Better it's me than the 11 year old she would have given the detention too if I didn't take the blame," Fred responds, trying not to wince at the sting of the alcohol on the cotton pad.

"I hate seeing you like this though," She sighs, he leans down to press a kiss to her forehead "You were very brave though," She compliments, throwing the red stained cotton pad into the bin as she grabs the ointment the twins made a few weeks before from the cupboard. "We're running low," She comments quietly

"I'll make some more in the morning," Fred sighs, letting his head drop back against the wall "Is there enough for George too?" His voice sounds tired but she knows if there wasn't he would stay up to make his twin more, it was the quickest way to heal the scars of Umbridge's quill.

"Yeah," She sighs gently. "Freddie?"

"What's wrong darling?" He asks, one eye fluttering open to look at his girlfriend. Not liking the anxiousness of her voice.

"I was just thinking that tomorrow I could go to Umbridge and tell her the other night was my fault, your hand is practically raw and-"

"No," He doesn't mean to snap at her but he would never, ever, let that toad of a human lay a hand on his girl. He'd take any punishment she has a thousand times before he let her take it even once.

"Fred, you can't just-"

"I mean it. I'm not letting her hurt you, alright? 'M your boyfriend, it's my job to keep you safe so no. You aren't taking the blame for her finding us kissing in a broom cupboard," He demands, she sighs as she grabs a bandage to wrap up Fred's hand

"You're killing yourself slowly Fred and I won't let you. I was just as at fault as you were and you've taken the blame for every slip up I've made all year. Even when you weren't there," She argues, her voice is soft though, not wanting to fight with him.

His hand that's not being bandaged rakes through his hair in frustration. "Please, please just let me keep you safe?" He's speaks so quietly, so full of nerves and love and every emotion in between that her heart melts a little

"You-"

"I swear to you right here that I'll start being more careful and I'll stop taking the blame for other people if it makes you worry, but, please. Angel, please, just let me look after you,"

He's practically begging and she can't help but agree, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Just start being careful alright?" She whispers the question

"Promise," He confirms quietly

"I love you Fred,"

She had been in love with him since her first year and it was the first time she ever said it to him.

She wasn't nervous though, not even for a second, she knows he loves her back, he may not have ever said it but he tells her in his own way a thousand times a day.

"I love you too sweetheart," He smiles gently, reaching his none bandaged hand to her jaw to pull her to him.

He kisses her soft and slow before she pulls away, moving her head to press a gentle kiss to the palm of his hand that's moved to cup her cheek.

"George! I'm ready to do your hand!" She calls, turning away from her boyfriend to blink away her tears, her anxiousness for his well being feeling overwhelming. George enters the small bathroom, cradling his own bleeding hand.

Neither twin mentions the redness in her eyes.

We've been livin' on a fault line And for a while you were all mine I've spent a lifetime givin' you my heart I swear that I'll be yours forever 'til forever falls apart 'Til forever falls apart

"I need to tell you something," Fred had spilt the words out over dinner, interrupting his friend groups story. She immediately turns to him, eyebrow raised in concern. She had joined his friends for dinner at his request, he'd been clingy fort he past month but she thought nothing of it until that very moment.

His brown eyes that usually held so much love and mischief seemed consumed in guilt.

"Alone," He adds hastily, trying to ignore the questioning look from Angelina Johnson across the table who had been talking about her Potions essay.

He stands, his girlfriend following behind wordlessly. Normally, he would reach out to grab her hand but he could feel the cold stare of Dolores Umbridge.

By the time he pulls her into an empty class room, too anxious to go all the way back to his dorm, he can feel his heart in his mouth.

He knew, realistically, that he should have told her months ago. Told her when the idea was first born. Not now, less than 24 hours before it happens.

"I swear to god, if you've cheated on me Fred I will cut you-"

"No!" He's quick to defend himself "Of course not. I would never, you know that," He sighs, still not sure where to find the words. "I have something to tell you but please don't be mad,"

"You can tell me anything Freddie," She reassures, sitting down on a desk as he stands in front of her

"I'm leaving," He speaks lowly

"What do you mean leaving?" she questions, eyes scrunched up like she's concentrating.

"I mean Harry gave George and I his tri-wizard cup winnings and we are dropping out of school to open a joke shop. I'm leaving tomorrow,"

"I- I don't know what to say," She admits quietly

"Well, what are you thinking?" He promts, trying to gauge her reaction

"I'm- I'm kind of mad that you didn't tell me you were leaving. That you've undoubtedly known for a while and you didn't bother to tell me. I'm worried because I'm so in love with you and I don't know what happens to us when we aren't both here, I mean I knew next year everything would change but I thought we had time to work out what we are doing. I'm sad cause I'm going to miss you like crazy, but, if I'm honest more than anything I'm so unbelievably proud of you and happy for you,"

"I should have told you. I know that. But I promise that nothing has to happen to us, I love you, not being here won't change that,"

"And you'll write?"

"Everyday," He assures, standing between her legs to press his lips to hers.

We never had it from the start 'Til death do us part

"So, what do you think?" Fred's voice questions, his hands that had been clasped over her eyes nervously ringing by his sides.

She was the first person to see the inside of the shop and both the twins, who stand on either side of her, were nervous about it.

She looks around with wide eyes, her feet spinning her in a slow circle as she takes in the bright colours of the store.

"Jeez woman, say something already," George groans, his anxiousness getting the best of him

"It's perfect," She grins, turning back to the two boys

"You really think?" Fred questions

"I do. It's like you two in shop form. I love it," She grins, flinging her arms around her boyfriend's arms as he lifts her up into the air, spinning her around as his loud laughter of excitement mixes with her giggles

"You love it?" He asks, excitement evident in his voice

"I love it," She confirms as he places her back onto the ground. She turns to hug George, smiling a congratulations.

Fred tugs her by her hand around the store, giving her the guided tour and pointing out every single product, explaining ones she hadn't seen before. She listens attentively, her heart swelling in pride and she swears she falls in love all over again as he grins at her, eyes shining.

If the tide takes California

I'm so glad I got to know ya

Fred's arms hold her close to him, her's looping round her neck as he sways them gently to the music playing through the marquee, her head tilted up to look at her boyfriend who smile back down.

"When we get married-" Fred starts, rolling his eyes when she immediately rolls her eyes

"Did you just say we?"

"Obviously we are getting married you idiot," Fred huffs, she smirks, reaching onto her tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek "As I was saying, when we get married, it's not going to be this fancy,"

"No?"

"No. Not worth the stress, unless you want a big fancy shindig, if you do obviously we can have one, we will just put a full body binding curse on mum," He chuckles at his joke but she can hear the sincerity in his voice

"Fred Weasley I would marry you with a piece of string for a ring and only one witness,"

"So a small wedding?" He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of her head

"Small wedding sounds good. You'll have to ask Oli for permission before you ask me though, otherwise he'll genuinely murder you,"

"I'll do that," He grins down.

She laughs it off, no idea there was a ring in his bedside draw since his first pay check at the joke shop, that he was just waiting for everything to calm down to ask.

And if the sky falls from Heaven above Oh, I know I had the best time fallin' into love

Fred feels like he can finally breathe again when he hears the door of the flat swing closed.

"Hey, I'm back," Her voice rings through the home above the joke shop.

"In the living room," He calls back, he hears her drop her keys onto the small table by the door before she arrives in the door way. Staring at him from the door way

"Thought I told you not to wait up?" She questions

"Couldn't sleep, hated not knowing if you were okay," He admits, she let's out a sigh, crossing the living room to sit next to him on the sofa.

"I know what you mean. Spent the whole day worrying if anything had happened to you," She admits, he sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"How was work?" He asks softly

"Busy. The world is a mess out there," She admits, her job as a healer seemed to only get crazier with each passing day, the war raging on the streets.

"I know," He hums gently, "Did you see Oliver after you finished?"

"I did, he's good just worried about everyone," She shrugs, it was how everyone seemed to be recently.

"I'm glad your home safe,"

"I'll always get home safe to you Freddie, as long as you promise to do the same?"

"I promise angel,"

We've been livin' on a fault line And for a while you were all mine

She feels like she can't breathe when the door is pulled open, she had the address on a piece of paper in Hermione Granger's neat cursive.

For a second, as selfish as it makes her feel, she allows herself to pretend. Pretend the man standing in the doorway is him. Allows herself to pretend it's the love of her life staring at her, and, for the second she does she can almost kid herself into thinking everything is okay.

"You want to come in?"

She feels the world crash around her as she nods, allowing George Weasley to lead her into his house. He offers her a drink and she politely declines, taking a seat in his living room.

"You're staring," He comments, he doesn't seem angry, nor does he seem hurt to see her. Instead, he watches her with pity.

"Sorry, I just-" She sighs, not bothering to finish

"I do it too. I stare at my reflection and trick myself into thinking it's him,"

"I'm so sorry, that you've had to go on without him. George, I'm so, so, sorry,"

"The same to you," George smiles sympathetically. His eyes scan her, trying to work out how she is without asking. "So, that's why you're here?" He questions, nodding towards the ring that sits on her left hand.

"It is. I need to talk to you about it. I'm sorry, because I know we said that we weren't going to speak but it had to be you,"

They'd both agreed it within a few months of the war ending. Being around each other was too hard. They were the one person who reminded the other of Fred the most.

"Okay," George nods in agreement. He watches as she eyes the framed photo of his wedding day on the mantle piece before letting out a deep breath.

"I moved away, to America, after the war- I just- I needed to get away. It was 5 years before I went on a date, it was 6 before I had sex it was 7 before I had a boyfriend. I didn't want to have a relationship, not when it would never come close to the one I had with him, and it doesn't, you should know that it doesn't, but Daniel, he asked me to marry him and I said yes. But- I can't go through with it, not if you're mad at me for it,"

"I'm not mad," George speaks gently, he has a feeling that in this moment it isn't him she's speaking too at all. If it were anyone else he would be angry, but for her, he is prepared to be the bridge to Fred, because he knows the one person who loved his twin more than George himself, was the girl in front of him.

"I know. I knew you wouldn't be I just-"

"You aren't asking if I'm mad. You're asking if I think he is," George comments, he reaches across the coffee table to squeeze her hand gently

"I know. I'm so sorry George, it's not fair to you and I know that. The thing is- You knew Fred better than anyone and you- Oliver keeps telling me that it is okay. That Fred would want me to be happy and to have a husband and kids and- I want to believe him but- I need to hear it from you. From you who knew him so deeply. Wherever he is does he hate me right now?"

"Fred would want to be the one who made you happy,"

"Look, George, I believe in love. I believe in one grand love, a soulmate, a forever. I believe that Fred was mine. He was the one. He was the sun and the moon and the stars. He is the love of my life. But I want kids, George, I always wanted that, and he is gone. I believe that when you die, the person you loved most in life is waiting for you and no matter what I believe it'll be Fred who greets me. I believe that he's watching over me and every decision I ever make I can practically hear him telling me what to do. I have love for Daniel but I am not in love with him, I will never be in love with anyone like I was with Fred, he was it for me. But I can't have him. I think he knows I would always pick him, I would still pick, I wish it were him. So, George, would he hate me for having a life without him?"

"You had a forever with Fred. It wasn't your forever, but it was his. I never saw him so happy. He wouldn't hate you. Just, for me, don't forget him,"

"I won't George. Nothing else comes close. It never will,"

I've spent a lifetime givin' you my heart I swear that I'll be yours forever 'til forever falls apart

Masterlist

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley #fred #weasley twins #weasley #harry potter fanfiction

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mashi-sims · 3 years

Text

6 Popular tropes that fit #Cooliver

1. Friends to Lovers. Duh

This is the most obvious one, and I wanted to start with this one because if Cooper and Oliver ever become canon, this is what their relationship would be.

In my head, Friends to Lovers is always problematic because it’s easy to lose a beautiful friendship to a mediocre romantic relationship, as has happened to many LGBT couples on TV, but if done correctly, it warms my heart and makes sparks of joy fly all around.

The journey of their friendship not only as a partnership but as a mutual beneficence that helps them both grow and develop as their individual selves, helping each other find their own path, confidence in themselves, inspiration and motivation to fulfill their dreams, ultimately becoming better individuals aiming to transform into the best versions of themselves they can be, *voice intensifies* all while being together and offering each other’s company and support, becoming accustomed to being next to one and other and not being able to imagine a life without the other, slowly developing emotional ties that make them consider if a different kind of love exists, and them exploring it and realizing that, in fact, THERE IS. That type of slow build that transforms into a romantic relationship because they both agree they are each other’s most treasured person and they want to stay in each other’s lives forever, that’s some GOOD STUFF.

2. Fake Dating

The reason why I believe a good fake dating au can get so popular, is because it can offer a pretty natural transition between “Not having any kind of feelings”/”Being unaware of their feelings” to “Oh, my gosh I am in love with this person what do I do”, and it can be so heart-wrenching it’s addictive.

In a beautiful world, Oliver is totally in love with Cooper and he just doesn’t know it yet, and there’s where this trope comes in handy.

There’s a number of reasons why two characters may start fake dating; getting someone off their backs, making someone jealous/angry, needing a date for a special occasion, or getting some odd financial benefit from it, if you’re willing to take it as far as getting married and having to pretend to be actually married so nobody know their marriage is a scam.

They agree to start fake dating or to start introducing each other to other people as their boyfriends, because Cooper wants these interested girls (and boys) in his money to go away, or because Oliver is the only single one at his ballet and he doesn’t want to go to after-show celebration alone, and after one or many fake dating moments, they start realizing they don’t need to act or pretend to act a certain way at all, because there’s stuff they’d normally do with or say to each other, or at least the trust or the reliance is already there.

Think about the inevitable time where they do have to stop acting like fake boyfriends and they start missing it, or when they mid-date realize there’s something real between all that pretending and now they don’t know what to do about it, imagine the conversation they’d have when they realize they can’t go back to being friends anymore.

3. N Things

This one is more like a writing strategy than an actual trope, but it still works. We’ve all read the “4 times they almost kissed, and one time they did” or the “3 times they said I love you to someone else, and one time they said it to each other”

Okay, now hear me out- how about, “3 times Oliver said Cooper wasn’t his boyfriend, and one he didn’t have to”, or “5 times Oliver said he wasn’t gay, and one time he couldn’t”? I’m down for that.

The heart of this trope is the repeatability of a certain joke, a comment or an unfortunate event and that’s obvious it’ll turn itself around, and it’s that one moment that finally comes which makes you want to dance under the rain.

To me, the amount of times Oliver’s had to tell other people that he isn’t gay or that Cooper’s not his bf (Cooper also said it once) is the perfect starter to this “n things” strategy.

Come on, American Housewife! You’re making it too easy for me to expect that one moment when it all turns around!

4. Babysitters

Neither of these boys is ever shown to be a kid-person nor to have a soft spot for babies, or anything like that! Like, at all! Their whole characters are based around the facts that they are both money-driven, superficial, and self-absorbed (although in the process of becoming better than that), and we barely ever get to see them pouring their hearts out or letting their guard down.

Therefore, imagine a day where Oliver is forced to babysit Violet (or another baby if there comes to be another one), and he’d undeniably be annoyed at the situation because this baby/toddler has ruined his plans, but Cooper obviously stays and helps him out because where else would he be?

It’s the times driving them both crazy when they don’t know how to make a baby stop crying, or when they’re deciding who should change the diaper because neither of them wants to; it’s the time when they’re both a mess because some chaos happened with the food or the paint while they were trying to come up with an activity.

Then it’s Oliver slowly coming down with baby fever as he’s trying make them laugh or when he’s walking around the room trying to make them fall asleep, and Cooper is in awe because he had never seen that side of his friend, and he had never expected it to look so damn cute, and Oliver had never expected Cooper to stay with him for a whole day just taking care of a baby.

It’s at the end of the day when they’re tired as hell but they agree that they had fun and that they’re glad they had each other to help out, and although they don’t say it, maybe it wasn’t so bad their original plans didn’t end up working out.

5. Hurt/Comfort

This is not a trope for everyone, you may love it, you may hate it, you may be indifferent, or you may be like me; somewhere in the middle but with some strong opinions. If done right, it can be a beautiful addition to the story of two characters in process of falling in love. If done wrong, it can victimize the characters in unnecessary ways or show them in a light that doesn’t suit them, thus making them feel out of character, which is every true fan’s worst nightmare.

Although, let’s focus on the small things; like characters holding on to their emotions for too long until they really can’t do it anymore, and they need somebody to help them out, even if they resist it, because in the end they’ll acknowledge they’re thankful for having them, and it also makes their relationship inevitably grow and develop, because there’s something really special about having someone you can truly be yourself with and knowing that they’ll stay, and they’ll help you through everything and make you feel like you’re going to be okay, even (and especially) during your worst moments.

(Although really toned down,) we’ve already seen this kind of comfort between the two; like when Cooper found out Oliver lied about his vacations, and he told him he didn’t need to lie to him out of all people, and that he could come on vacation with him whenever he wanted, or when Cooper’s parents ditched him and he confided in Oliver, who believed he had become tired of hanging out with him, and Cooper had to reassure him that wasn’t the case; those were small moments where we got to see them somewhat upset and being comforted by the other, and that’s when it feels like their friendship is strong and real.

The reason why I believe this trope fits them so much is because they are barely shown in a vulnerable state that allows them to have a sad plot where they’d need to be comforted, and it’s during times like these where you can really see their relationship grow.

Also, I want to point out that it’s not about romanticizing or sexualizing sadness, at all! It’s about using these moments to slowly build and give consistency to the relationship- don’t even get me started on how much I hate seeing and reading characters making out after having a breakdown.

6. Mutual Pining

Some people like to suffer, okay? Some of us like a good tragedy, and there’s nothing more tragic than two characters who are deeply in love with each other, but they’ve resigned to keeping it hidden deep down because they’re convinced the other doesn’t feel the same and they don’t want to lose them nor their friendship, even if it means having to live with a painful secret for the rest of their lives.

When you start having feelings for another person, you may be brave enough to let them now or try and see where things go, because you have nothing to lose, right? But what happens when it’s your best friend you have feelings for? There’s a lot there to lose if do things go wrong, and there’s no certainty that they won’t, so you might as well leave things as they are, because nothing would be more painful than to lose the person you love the most for making things weird because they don’t feel the same way...

And it’s completely frustrating to see two characters with the same internal monologue, because you know what IT COULD BE, but THEY don’t know that- and I love it.

There’s a million different ways this trope can play out, and it’s always so interesting to see where things go after both characters have resigned to never let the other one know how they feel, and then we get to see these destructive actions like dating other people because they think their feelings are unrequited, but they have no idea the other is in deep pain because of seeing the person they love with someone else... yes, a good tragedy!

Anyway, thank you for reading this rant and feel free to add to the list or make any of these come to life.

#Cooliver #American Housewife #A little rant I couldn't get out of my head

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kiribaku-queen · 4 years

Text

Secret Hero [5/10]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader, Ushijima x reader

Angst, Drama, AU

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: very Ushijima focused this chapter. I loved seeing all the guesses and everyone pretty much guessed right! Great detectives skills, loves! Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Summary: After becoming the number 2 hero, Bakugou accomplished everything he ever wanted. He beat Deku in a few matches, even if he wasn’t the number 1 hero. He got all the fame, beat countless villains, was acknowledged by all his friends and family. But he wasn’t satisfied. He wasn’t happy. Bakugou realized that this wasn’t the life he wanted. So he left the life of a hero and decided to hide to live the rest of his life as a normal person.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

After lunch with your family, it was clear that you were not feeling the best. All those comments about your weight and your career and everything you were doing wrong was going to your head. You cut breakfast out of your daily routine, as well as lunch. Even if you did eat lunch, you ate very minimal. Dinner was a different story. You were eating a normal portion but never to the point where you were stuffed. Your days were very fatigued and you could feel yourself losing energy to perform simple tasks. But if that’s what you had to do to get skinny, then you would do it. Beauty is pain, as one would say.

But your mother couldn’t get the hint. Since you took up on her offer to meet the boy she wants you to meet oh so badly, she’s been bugging you nonstop to meet him and his mother for a nice lunch. And so here you were, standing in front of the restaurant your mother picked.

“Be on your best behavior, dear,” your mother warned. You knew she wanted this meeting to go well, but now you were starting to take back your words. You were nervous for sure. You had no idea who this guy was. You didn’t know what he looked like, what he did for a living, his hobbies, nothing. Your mom left it to be a surprise till the very end and the anticipation was killing you.

“I know, mother,” you say. Well, time to put your mask on. All you had to do was meet this guy for your mother’s sake and hope that after this, she will leave you alone. Or not. But you would worry about that later.

You enter the beautifully aesthetic restaurant. Colors of gold and white covered the walls and ceiling, a chandelier hung in the middle of the room. Each table was organized neatly with the correct silverware, napkin and plates. Bouquets of fresh flowers sat at each table which set the atmosphere nicely. The waitress took you two to a private area where you were to meet this boy. As you walked to your destination, you looked around the restaurant. Neat, organized, everything looked exactly the same. Someone who was not raised in this environment might think coming here was a treat and would be lucky to dine here. But no matter how beautiful everything might look, you felt it was suffocating. Like you always had to act a certain way because you lived in luxury. But that wasn’t you.

You and your mother arrived at the private room, your guests waiting patiently for you. As soon as you guys opened the door, the man and his mother stood up to greet you two. Your mother and the other woman happily greeted each other, giving each other a hug and a kiss on each cheek. The man you were meeting bowed to show his respect and softly introduced himself.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi,” you heard him say.

“Yes, and this is my daughter, (y/n),” your mother introduced you. But when she saw you still standing by the door, she clicked her tongue in disapproval, snapping you out of your daze. “Honey, come introduce yourself.” You bowed back at both of them and finally looked up to introduce yourself.

“(y/n), pleasure to meet you,” you say in your most fake voice. It took you years to perfect it and people believed it every time. You looked at the other mother and she came to embrace you in a hug.

“You are more gorgeous in real life than in your pictures,” she complimented you. Yikes, they’ve seen pictures of you? You bet that they just really want you two to be together, that’s why she’s complimenting you so graciously. Your gaze moves from the woman to the man you were supposed to meet. And boy oh boy were you in for a surprise. You tried not to show it, but your eyes widened slightly when you saw who you were meeting.

Tall. Stoic face. Olive brown hair. He was the guy who ran into you the other day! And didn’t apologize! Your mom wanted you to meet this guy? This was going to be an awkward lunch.

“Nice to meet you,” you say to Ushijima, despite starting to have petty feelings for him.

“Likewise,” he says back with his deep ass voice.

“Let’s order, shall we?” your mother clapped her hands, clearly very excited for this encounter to finally happen. Every is in agreeance and takes a seat at the table. But before you could sit down, Ushijima comes over to your side to pull out your chair for you. That made both women very excited.

“My, what a gentleman!” your mother in absolutely in love right now. You accept his offer with an awkward smile and sit down, Ushijima scooting your seat in at the same time. He goes back around to sit back in his seat, but is keeping eye contact with you the entire time. It makes you start having cold sweat. Does he recognize you? Does he remember how you acted and practically embarrassed yourself that day? You pray that that wasn’t the case.

“Tell us, Ushijima. How is your work life?” your mother started the conversation. If you knew any better, she was basically interviewing him.

“I just got promoted at my father’s company. So I am head of the new office in town that I believe (y/n) resides in,” Ushijima informs. Upon hearing your name, you look up at him only to find him already looking at you. That got you embarrassed and so you immediately looked back down.

“Ah, is it that new office that Momo works at?” your mother was starting to connect the dots.

“Momo Yaoyorozu? She is actually my secretary.” Oh perfect. He’s already come into contact with the gorgeous Momo. There’s no way he was falling for you now. You might as well stop trying because you already lost, again.

“I’d actually like to know what Miss (y/n) does for a living,” Ushijima turns his attention to you, waiting for your answer. You looked surprised, not expecting for him to take any interest in you.

“Oh, uhm. I’m a teacher,” you quietly say, a bit embarrassed that you had to say what your profession was. You were already put down by your family for that. You didn’t need to hear it again, especially from strangers that you just met and who don’t even know you.

“So you like kids?” he asks.

“Yeah, I do. I love being around them,” you started to get excited. You loved talking about your kids and how proud they made you. But you physically had to stop yourself. He probably wasn’t interested in hearing your stories anyway.

“I think that’s very admirable,” Ushijima compliments you, giving you an encouraging smile. And that threw you off guard. It actually made you more nervous. “Tell me more.” He insisted. You looked and your mother and then at Ushijima’s mother. They were both looking at you as if to say that they were interesting in hearing more from you.

So you gave a few stories about the kids in your classroom. How sometimes they can make your stomach hurt from laughter or how proud you were every time they learned something new. With each story, your eyes lightened up and Ushijima was silently listening to every word that you were saying. You were surprised that he didn’t interrupt one bit because you were just so excited to talk about something you were just so passionate in.

“You two fit so well. I think this is going to be a beautiful marriage,” Ushijima’s mother clapped her hands in satisfaction. Your mouth dropped and your eyes immediately went to your mother, who was actively avoiding you.

“Mother,” you harshly whispered her name. You simply just wanted to meet him, not get engaged with him. And she knew that, yet she just pulled you right into her trap.

“Why don’t you two take a walk in the garden. Get some alone time,” your mother was avoiding the situation. She looked pleadingly at Ushijima who got the hint. He stood up and made his way to you, sticking out his hand for you to take. You groan internally, taking a mental note to confront your mother later. You take his hand as he escorts you out into the garden. The mothers watch as their children walk away.

“They’ll be fine,” they reassured themselves, taking a sip of tea and starting their own conversations.

Ushijima takes you around the small garden they had in the back of the restaurant. Of course they had something like this. Flowers and plants engulfed you at every which angle. The beauty in front of you doesn’t distract you from what his mother just announced. An engagement?

“I’m so sorry. They must have forced you into this too,” you assumed, apologizing for this situation. But why were you even apologizing. You didn’t have anything to do with this. Just like him, you were also the victim.

“Just a little bit,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, I’m willing to try if you are.” You stop in your tracks to snap your head to see if he was joking. It was hard to tell by the poker face he was wearing.

“You actually want to do this?” you question his mentality.

“Why not? We both can’t find someone, so why not do the alternative?” he shrugs it off like it was nothing. But you still couldn’t wrap your head around in.

“How do you know I can’t find someone?” you challenge him, feeling a bit insulted. You mean… it’s true but he didn’t have to call you out like that.

“Then why would your parents put you up to something like this,” he points out. Yeah, he had a point. But still! You didn’t want to admit that you couldn’t find someone in your life. But if this was the only way…

“Mhm, I can try. But I can’t guarantee that anything will happen,” you gave him a fair warning.

“That’s okay,” he says and moves so that he’s in front of you. “Because I want to make this work. And then I’m going to make you fall in love with me. And repropose when it’s the right time.” You stared into his olive brown eyes. He meant every word of it. And as sweet and romantic that may sound, your heart didn’t skip a beat. You wanted it to so badly, but it doesn’t.

“Mother isn’t this a bit too soon?” you asked your mother on the phone. You were standing outside what you thought was an office building, but it instead wounded up to be a bridal boutique.

“Well if I told you, then you wouldn’t have gone! Hurry inside, your appointment should be starting soon,” and hung up soon after. You sighed, putting your phone away in your purse. You’ve only met your fiancé for a few weeks now and you’re already trying on wedding dresses so soon? Not only did you not feel confident, but you were discouraged because you were alone. You didn’t have anybody by your side, not even your mother. It was very tempting to leave and come back sometime later, but you could never go against your mother. If she found out that you missed your appointment, she would go ballistic on you. With a regretful sigh, you entered the boutique.

“Welcome!” the lady at the front desk greeted you.

“Uhm, hi. I have an appointment,” you say very softly.

“(y/n) right?” she asks, like she knew who you were already. You nodded your head, confused and shocked how she knew your name.

“Perfect, right this way!” her cheery voice rang in your ear. It was the same fake voice you used whenever you are with your family. Gross. She takes you over to a private room where many dresses are already laid out.

“Now, (y/n). What kind of dress are we looking for?” she asks. And it left you wondering. What did you want? The news of marriage was so sudden that you didn’t have time to think of what you wanted. You just assumed that the older adults would take care of it and you were just there for the ride.

“I’m actually not sure,” you say embarrassed. Your consultant was probably judging you by now.

“That’s okay! We can try on a few and decide what you like and don’t like and go from there.” The consultant smiled at you, not a single ounce of judgment on her face.

So you tried on many dresses. The big, poofy, traditional style wedding dresses looked horrendous on you. The fishtail was interesting but you didn’t like it. Lace looked old. You were starting to feel like finding a nice dress for you was hopeless.

“So, tell me about the groom,” your consultant started a conversation while fitting you into your next dress. Gosh, what do you say to that? Do you just confess and say that, oh it was an arranged marriage I don’t know this man at all?

“He’s very handsome and nice,” you decided to say. You weren’t wrong. Ushijima was very handsome and from those interaction that you did have with him, he was pretty nice. So technically, you weren’t lying.

“Are you excited for your wedding?” she asks another question.

“Not really,” you blurted out without even thinking. You realized your mistake, now having said too much and covered your mouth. She starts to laugh which throws your off guard.

“I can tell,” she says. It was like the information you told her didn’t surprise her at all.

“You can?”

“Of course. The look on your face as you came in today, the way you talked about your husband and the fact that you brought nobody with you? It was clear as day, honey. But we get those kinds of brides all the time. You may not love the man you’re about to marry, but you still deserve to look beautiful on your wedding day.” She advices, tightening up the last bit of the dress.

“Okay, how about this one?” your consultant backed away and you saw yourself in the mirror. It had a corset bodice that hugged your waist beautifully. Embroidered flowers covered the top, all the way down to half of the dress and slowly faded out. The skirt was flowy and had a long train. The dress was beyond gorgeous. And for once, you thought you looked really pretty. You couldn’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror.

“Wow,” you breathed. You looked completely different, like you haven’t seen this side of you before.

“I knew you’d like it. I’ll be right back. I’m going to bring a veil to bring the whole thing together,” she says and quickly runs out of the private dressing room to retrieve the item. You’re left mesmerized by the sight of you that you didn’t even notice someone come in.

“You look stunning,” a deep voice comes out of nowhere, scaring the living shit out of you. You turn around and Ushijima is standing there with his arms crossed, an amused look on his face.

“Ushijima!” you scream his name, covering your heart with your hand. “You scared me!” He laughs at your response, a chuckle coming from deep in his throat.

“Sorry,” he simply said, making his way to stand next to you. He looked like he just got out of work since he was wearing a suit. He looked clean and well put together. And when he stood next to you, it was like seeing you already at the wedding.

“Is this what we are going to look like at the wedding?” you joke. You thought it was funny how you two looked dressed for the occasion.

“No,” he said, wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. “Because you’re going to look even more gorgeous than you do now.” His low, deep voice tickled your ear, making you feel a little nervous. You get a glimpse of him in the mirror and you had to look away when you saw that he was staring right back at you.

“Okay, I think this one oh-” your consultant comes back in with the veil and is surprised to see that you have company. And it looks like she was ruining a special moment too. “I can just come back.” She says as she’s already backing out the door.

“Oh, no it’s fine,” you reassure her, slapping Ushijima’s hands away.

“We’ll take it,” he tells the consultant and gives her his credit card. She gladly accepts and is about to ring up the charge. While you were getting changed into your regular clothes, Ushijima was walking around the part of the shop where they sell other kinds of dresses. He comes across this one blue, off the shoulder dress and picks it up. Then he’s on his way back to the register with the dress in hand.

“This one as well,” he puts the dress on the counter. It might have been an impulse buy but he knew that it was going to look amazing on you at the party.

A/N: Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Starting from tomorrow, I will be releasing those requests every day until they are all out there. So look forward to much content from me this week. And as always, I’d love to hear what you have to say or what you think about the chapter :)

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @simpforeveryone @bakasbitch18 @sam-i-am-1025

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou imagine #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu #ushijima imagine #haikyuu imagine

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aliynavenus · 4 years

Text

‘A Little Adjustment’ a damirae fanfic

Chapter three

Monday 12:30 p.m

“Damian!” Donna rushed up to catch up to him in the hall during their passing period, “So it is true, you are back!”

Oh right, he forgot he never really did tell the team he was back. Not even his brothers knew, though he guaranteed his father already told them.

“I wasn’t planning on informing anyone. I’m assuming Jon told you?”

Donna lifted up her eyebrow taken aback, as if he said something unbelievable. “Are you kidding me? You’re the whole schools talk right now. Everywhere I go--” lifting up her hands gesturing at nothing, “it’s Damian Wayne this and Damian that.”

Tsk, as if that was any better. He already had so many prids attacking him with questions about his whereabouts at the academy. It was only 6th period and he already had people wanting to meddle into his life that wasn’t his father. It was awful.

“How come you didn’t tell anyone except Jon, you should’ve told me, or Wally or even Roy!” Donna shouted mildly disappointed but she mentioned someone who he didn’t even know.

Damian paused walking, turning to her, “Who’s Roy?”

“Roy Harper…?” Donna blinked, tilting her head till something clicked, “Oh right!--Did Jon not mention him to you? He's new to the team, aka Speedy. He’s Oliver’s--well was his sidekick. He actually goes here now too. You might like him, he's a really good fighter.”

Damian scoffed, “I’d expect him to be, if he’s already part of the team. As long as he’s not an imbecile with unhumorous jokes like Logan”

Donna rolled her eyes, bambling about something that he wasn't really listening to. When he heard a small distant laugh behind him. He knew who that shy awkward chuckle belonged to.

Raven was leaning against the side of the library doors laughing with whoever that poor scum is. Something in his stomach twisted with greed seeing that. Her hair in a messy bun with strands of hair framing her face, the academy’s white blouse fitting her too well. She was pressing her pile of books against her chest, they almost looked suffocated. That navy plaid skirt still as damn short as he remembered. Gods, she doesn’t even realize if she bends over even the slightest, all will be at risk, for him. This school really needed to overlook its dress-code. And What the hell was that imbecile saying that was making her laugh like a child? It made him unsettled.

“Hellooo, birdbrain to Donna.”Waving a hand over, jerking him back into reality, “You’ll be considered creepy if you keep staring at them like that. Besides, if that guy wants to live, he’ll have to deal with Jon. And boy is he such a protective brother towards her.”

Jon? A protective brother? That was something he never thought he’d never hear. Jon was a child, an oblivious care-free ditz who wasn’t at all threatening or even the slightest way orderant. How come it was his first time hearing about this, Jon never--

Then it clicked

No wonder, Jon didn’t even mention not doing anything with Raven to him. It’s because he didn’t feel the need to. Jon didn’t know anything about the sin, just the mind link. Of course he wouldn’t expect his best friend to lay a finger on his adoptive sister. Yet he already did.

Crap. And that’s when Damian felt a guilt crawl up his skull, “Jon sure did change.” he muttered under his breath holding back a curse.

Unfortunately Donna heard, “Right! But it’s nice seeing Jon like this, he’s always saying he likes having Raven as a sister. I guess he just doesn’t wanna see her get hurt. You should’ve seen his face when the team told him we were planning on telling her who we actually are.”

Damian shot a glare at Donna. “You told her?”

Donna faced her hand towards him, “Relax, she doesn’t know yours or Jon’s identity. After you left, the team except Jon was assigned to help out in defeating her dad. We all became friends--though me and her are the bestest of friends--anyway in the end we told her who we actually were though she was surprised. But she knew I was a wondergirl, something about how coincidentally my eyes were the same blue. Which I’m surprised no one’s ever noticed.”

Damian furrowed his eyebrows, why the hell did that make him bothered. Just knowing that they don’t have any secrets between her, they were free to act how they wanted without any fake personas in the way. As for him, he had to be a Wayne and only a Wayne around her. For multiple reasons.

Truth be told he hasn’t seen Raven since last night, it wasn’t that he was avoiding her. He just hasn’t seen her till now, almost like she was the one avoiding him.

Back in that moment in that cramped closet, every passion, every want all combined together wanting to come out. But he had to keep it under control, it scathe him not to touch her more, not to reach down under her clothes and please her in every way he possibly could. But he couldn't do that. He couldn’t fall vulnerable to whatever the hell he was feeling when she’s near him. It was Raven, for god sakes who was now Jon's adoptive sister.

Dammit. Why does she affect him like this? He never felt defenseless with the women back in Tokyo. Everything in his head kept telling him that it was the sin that was making him like this, the goddamn attachments he had with her. It felt like an urge--a burning one that imprinted in his body that left him eager to not just understand her but to feel every curve of her body.

Gods he sounded pathetic.

Ding Ding Ding

“Crap that’s the bell. Mr. Lawson is going kill if I’m late again, I’ll see you later.” Without responding to Donna, Damian looked back to the area where Raven was with that scum. But they were gone. He cursed under his breath hoping he’d never have to see that again.

Opening the doors of the library to attend his next period, study hall. The same place where he noticed Raven having no idea that day was going to cause havoc a year later. The academy's library was immense, two stories of towering book shelves with the golden lights that came from the ceiling, illuminating the place to give it a sense of ease. Though no student actually liked being here to enjoy literature, just to slouch sleep where they please like sloths.

Damian already felt the eyes of drooling girls staring at him, ignoring them as he walked up the spiral stairs to the second floor. Staying away from everyone. It was rather empty up there wandering to the far end until he noticed Raven. She was in the corner all alone, seated at the floor leaning against the shelved books against the wall. Looked like she wanted to get away from the sea of people too.

Raven was reading that book, that caused their moment back in that closet. He couldn’t miss the texturized grey undertone that had red stones plastered in a circle on the cover. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew what it was for. It wasn’t a coincidence why she was so eager to get it last night after meeting with Robin. Though it was a perfect time to act oblivious.

----

“You know you never did end up telling me what your research was on with that book.”

Oh no.

Raven felt her spine stiffen, lifting her head to see Damian standing there. Gods he looked more defined in the school’s uniform. His sleeves were rolled up exposing his tense arms that were searching her body last night--gods she needed to stop recalling last night. Especially after what she found out. Her words were caught in her throat feeling the air tighten in her lungs. She had to say something, anything.

“Uhm, just some research on my powers.” Her words were stuttered; she couldn’t even look him in the eye. If she did, all she would think about was everything that happened between them. Why did he have to have this study period? Especially after doing a great job at avoiding him.

“Anything I could help with?” Damian set his notebooks to the side, sliding down his body next to hers, keeping just enough space between them.

Help? Like he would know anything about reversing a sin. Or anything about magic. Raven shifted almost automatically, trying to regain that comfort she was in before he came. Oh azar, doesn’t he feel any sort of awkwardness between them. Because gods know that she does. She couldn’t face him, who was she kidding, she made a mistake, afterall she kissed him first. Kissing Damian Wayne was like kissing a prince around here, and she was no princess. She could practically feel the embarrassment skinning her alive.

She chuckles hoping it would ease her nerves. “I don’t think you’ll know anything about...magic.”

Damian scoffed, as if she just told a joke. “I may know a thing or two.”

Yea right. “Hm.” she couldn’t say anything else. She didn’t want to come out as rude but she needed him to get the jist that he needed to get the heck away from here. Especially after what she found out like last. It was the best option. “I have a lot of work to do. You should probably go downstairs, hang out with the high status people. I can’t really have distractions right now.”

So much for trying to sound natural. She just sounded mean.

Damian blinked furrowing his eyebrows completely shocked she even suggested that. For a second she wanted to take it back and just let him be but instead he scoffed, half hearted, “Is that what you think of me? A distraction?”

Yup, he was. And she so badly now wanted to take it back hearing his words cut deep through her chest. “N-no I just can’t concentrate when you’re around.”

Damian seemed unfazed. “Might I remind you, you kissed me last night. I don’t think I’m the one causing the distractions.”

He really mentioned that right now after she was doing anything she can to avoid that subject. Damian was really testing her, he wanted to make it into an enticing argument. And for some reason she was willing to argue. “I might’ve kissed you first but I pulled away. You’re the one who shut me up by kissing me again. So yes! You are distraction, a distraction to my head, and my body, my soul!”

He tilted his head, licking his lips confused, “Your soul?”

Great. After her enticement she just slipped a variable of her research. She had to bring it up now, he was already belittling seeing that she was actually protecting him from her. Cat’s out of the bag once again.

Raven sighed, “Well it has to do with an accidental connection to a sin I set with someone a while back. That’s what this book is for, research on how to reverse it.”

Damian didn’t even look shocked. “And did you figure it out?”

“Almost. I thought this sin wouldn’t have much effect on me. But it does and I found something else….something that partially has to do with why I kissed you last night.” Raven’s grip on the book tightened, biting her lower lip. Feeling a rush of color want to appear.

Damian lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing waiting for her to respond.

Raven shifted the book from her lap to his pointing at a sentence reading it aloud, “The devoted one who unleashes Lust has the stance of the uncontrollable tolerance of the lurement of one whose soul pleases their eye yet if the devoted one is not fully satisfied. Consequences will occur that will lure the lust out of the body itself till the soul cleansed.”

The air seemed to thicken after she read those words. She could feel Damian drift his gaze onto her but she couldn’t look himt. “What does this all mean?”

Damian’s low voice was echoed against her ear. Raven didn’t notice how close they were. They’re bodies could touch simply if one of them moved just the slightest. Looking into him, she was sure he could see the rid of color flowing into her cheeks.

“It means that since I’m the one who made the seal my soul and body has seen searching for the one who attracts it….and that soul happened to be yours. I guess that’s part of the reason why I came on to you so suddenly…. it’s because my soul likes you. So there’s going to be times where I won't feel controlled when I’m only around you.” Her voice was so brittle she could feel it break with embarrassment, “..but if my soul isn’t fully satisfied when we do stuff like that...then Lust will take over my body until it is. It’s a slight pressure of pleasure mixed with frustration that makes the body ache, it’s almost chastisement.”

His eyebrows knitted together hearing that, “So you’ll be in pain until your soul is satisfied.”

Raven nodded her head, gods this would be easier if he was an abnormal being of some kind. But no her soul just had to be attracted to a person who’s human. “This is why you can’t be near me anymore. I can’t have my morals be acting on its own when it sees you. It could want you at any given time and I don’t want to put you through—”

“Use me.”

Raven’s eyes widen, “What?”

For gods sake what was he saying. It was as if his words were a reflex all on its own.

Damian bit his lower lip, looking into her eyes. It was a whole universe in them. He didn’t want to see those same eyes in pain, afterall he caused her so much agony for a year with his unruly intimacy with women.

His voice was soft, a cautious tone simmering between them both, “Use me. Do what you want. If I know it’ll help you to not feel agony then I’ll take it.”

Did he have any idea what he was saying. Or why he was willing to help her as Damian? He shouldn’t be meddling, she made a simple request for him so why wasn’t he just letting it go. It was one thing to deal with Raven as Robin but now dealing with her like this.

It was complicated, more than that. But he didn’t care.

“Damian I can’t--”

Raven couldn’t even get her sentence out, the next thing she knew Damian’s lips were on hers. Every nerve in his body wanted to shut her up and accept his request without telling her twice. He didn’t want to hear a rejection, he just wanted her to take it before he regretted saying it. Grasping her chin under his thumb in a light kiss, careful not to startle her away. Yet she wasn’t. Releasing his rough lips from hers, their lips were still close enough where they were merely touching.

The collide of amethyst and emerald taking in each other’s eyes to admire everything that held a universe in them. The library was so silent Damian was sure he could hear her heartbeat, if not his too. Raven’s hands were at her sides yet he found it within himself wanting to feel her grips everywhere. The tension was breaking him already missing the awkward lingering traces of her lips onto his. “Damian.”

The sound of the book from his lap was heard hitting the floor. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer to him. His senses being filled with her scent of jasmine that he couldn’t get enough of.

“Don’t...don’t say another word. Just let me.”

With that Damian imprinted his lips onto hers. Savoring the way her soft lips felt against his rough ones, it was awkward yet searching. The heat that was exposing both of them, dragging kiss after kiss. Until they bathed in each other’s taste.

Raven’s lips pressed deeper into his. Her kisses electrocuting his body making him ache everything he wanted to do to back in that cramped closet. Raven groaned against his mouth feeling his tarrying tongue wet her bottom lip begging for entrance. Graciously inviting him, as she gripped the fronts of his white oxford harshly.

She wanted this. Or more like her soul did, and he knew it. He could sense it. For fucks sake he was just grateful that she couldn’t sense what he was feeling. Whatever it was, he didn’t even know it himself.

Feeling Raven’s teeth nibbling on Damian’s bottom lip, he grunted against her mouth. His rough hands behind her soft hair, “My soul..it...it wants you.” Raven muttered in between the drowning kisses, her voice was so fragile he was it could break.

He needed to fulfill her soul. And by gods he wanted to do more than just that right now.

Taking a sense of their awkward position, Damian gripped her lower waist guiding her to his lap. His cock twitched feeling her skirt riding up her thighs. Fuck this felt good.

Damian licked his lips, watching Raven’s breaths caught in her throat, staring into her through her heavy-lidded eyes. He wanted to take a moment and enjoy every little breathless exhale she took. Her cheeks were reigning with color, her grip against his shirt was tight. Almost like she was keeping him hold, and to say he liked it. The perfect bun she had was now a tangled mess but yet still she didn’t look a mess. Hell, she looked goddamn irresistible.

Slowly guiding his lips to her neck, tasting her flesh that was just as honeyed as her lips. Without a thought Damian found himself reaching for her ponytail that held her bun and easily pulled it away from her silk hair. Raven’s head leaned back, biting her lower lip from letting a vulnerable sound escape her lips. Damian’s tongue was hot and lasting that dug aimless trails, stopping at various points to bite down her flesh. Her skin tasted as if it was sprinkled with sugar, every lick better than the last. He could feel Raven shiver with every bite he plastered on her neck.

“Damian.”

The way she said his name--why did his name sound so angelic when she said it. It could drive him mad if she continued saying his name with her husky breath that swirled with anticipation.

He wanted to feel that pleasure that was too goddamn good last night. Recalling the way her hips rolled onto his, stopping her, before he knew he would risk it all if she continued. But he didn’t care anymore, he was throbbing for her and he was sure she could feel him.

Working his hands down her body, digging his fingers into her hips. He took the pleasure of guiding, rocking her hips onto his cock. Raven jerked and let go of a stifled noise, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.

How can something so unright feel too goddamn good.

Damian could feel her damp panties against his trousers. His cock responding to every roll that was given. Raven’s mouth fell open, wanting every sound to escape. Damian could see the pleasure takeover her eyes, desperately hearing the soft pants that could echo the library if she wasn’t quite. But shit, how he want to hear her plead, if only they were in a more secluded area. Thankfully no one during this period was scavenging for a book or even cared to look for one while they were all far away from any sightful crowd.

“Wouldn’t want people to hear us, Raven. Try to stay quiet for me.” His voice a rumbling growl against her lower ear. Yet she was only able to nod, closing her eyes as her nails were tugging at his hair that made him growl. Continuing his motions every swipe against her aching pussy sliding along his cock.

Raven chewed onto her bottom lip, only letting small mutters come out. Her shaky breath as her hand trailing down his hard chest. Without noticing what she was doing he felt her fingers brush against his cock. Twitching at the feel wanting her to pump him through his trousers, but she didn’t, instead she did something he didn’t expect.

Fuck.

Damian couldn’t look away as Raven slid her hand under her skirt. Grunted something explicit in variable languages that he knew she didn’t know. Wanting to see what the hell she was doing but he could feel her fingers desperately pull aside her panties. Oh shit. His cock was painfully growing to her motives, feeling her pussy, she was so much more soak than he imagined. He may be fully clothed, this was enough. At least enough to drive his pulsing cock aching to be let out from his trousers.

His fingers buried into her white blouse, surely leaving marks, and fastening his pace. Pulling her roughly down onto him desperately. Heat curled up his spine, feeling it wasn’t just him controlling her hips anymore. She started to frantically move into his hands with him. Increasing his pace,, again and again, over and over, without stopping--

Oh, fuck was that a sight.

Raven’s mouth falling open, her eyes barely staying open staring into him. It was as if she wanted to say something but all she was able to concede was the sounds that sounded so mellow that were aching to be louder.

Raven groaned “A-ah..!--” A moan that was too loud leaked from her mouth but quick to her response. She shut herself up overthrowing the back of her palm onto her mouth. Biting down her eyes shut, muffling cries. Sweat that seemed to glisten on her skin feeling the sizzling heat of her body attached to him. She looked helpless, eager for him. Almost at the edge.

Damian shivered feeling Raven’s hand below his navel. She looked down at their doing and back at him, her body may have been pleading more but her eyes. Her eyes said something else. Slowing down his pace hesitantly. He wanted these moments to burn into his mind longer, but he knew why she made him stop. Even though she couldn’t say it herself, he knew.

Taking her hand away from her mouth slowly. He leaned forward into her, pressing his lips onto hers softly. Feeling the missed contact of her soft, wet, now bruised lips from all the biting down she did on herself. Tangling his fingers into her hair, cradling her cheek. Damian wanted to ease those marks, licking slowly across her lips. Raven’s eyes were open the whole time not wanting to miss a second of his doings, not like he minded anyway. He liked staring into her eyes.

A silence stretched between them after not quite sure who should speak first. Though Damian could feel she was embarrassed with her cheeks still filled with color, her head dropped taking her gaze from him. “I-I think it’s satisfied..”

Oh right. Damian bit back a curse remembering that was the main reason why their bodies reattached on it’s own. Why they’re in another particular situation anyway. Yet even though she said her body is content, she didn’t move away. They were still in this position that seemed all their own. He could still feel all of her, if he kept feeling her pussy pressed against his trousers any longer, he wasn’t sure if he could contain himself.

“Right. You won’t be in pain then?” He tried his best to make his expression unreadable, not wanting her to realize how much it was restraining him to kiss her.

Raven shook her head, “I don’t think so, it would’ve happened by now.” her words were stumbled when she looked down at their laps. “U-uhm, I should probably move from your lap.” Damian could feel himself grin seeing the rush of heat maneuver it’s way up to her face. Sensing a bashful Raven a mile away yet it was an interesting view to see.

“Mm.” Feeling this thighs lighten from her small weight, yet something was clearly seen on his dark grey pants. Damn She really was soaked. The darken area around his cock that was quite noticeable if someone would stare too long. Though Raven seemed to notice rather quickly,

Raven pushed her hands to her cheeks, shaking her words. “Shoot I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I was going to leave a stain or that I was going to do that. Azar, I’m sorry you probably don’t have an extra pair of--”

Damian cut her off, “Relax, it’s okay. I have workouts next period. It shouldn’t be a problem. Alfred always packs a spare uniform in my duffle bag.”

Raven tilted her head relieved but confused. “Alfred?”

“He’s my family’s butler, more of a friend though. He always keeps me prepared.” Truth was Alfred made him keep an extra pair of everything at school in case he lost some of his uniform when having to transform into Robin during dangerous times.

“Oh, a butler. That’s nice of him.”

Damian grunted, stretching his body to come up to fix his oxford that crinkled from Raven’s grasp, though not like he mind. “Yea it is.”

Damian looked at Raven who was trying to fix herself, adjusting the hem of her plaid skirt as well as the wrinkles from her white blouse. His eyes drifting through her plush skin until it stopped at the noticeable bite he left that soon bruised on the side of her neck. Raven didn’t even notice them. Fuck did she have to look so densely cunning, if he didn’t tell her she would be a walking mark of his own. Though that was a thought. That he somewhat enjoyed thinking.

But that wasn’t what he was meant to supply her with. He wasn’t even supposed to touch her, afterall there was also Jon to think about.

Damian clears his throat, “You should probably cover those up. I went a little far.” eyeing at the marks.

Raven brought her hand to her neck where he was referring, “Oh right, I’ll heal them right now. Jon would lose it, if he found out. ” Damian only managed to nod not wanting the guilt to skin him. Raven ended up letting a soft chuckle, muttering lowly under her breath, “Can’t have that happen again.”

What? She may have not wanted him to hear her. But he did. Has someone else left marks on her? Or done something even remotely the same. But it shouldn’t even bother him, what’s it to him. He was only meant to supply her in satisfaction. So why did he feel the need to pry into that statement.

“Have you ever done something like this before with someone to make him pissed off?” He tried his best to choose his words wisely not wanting to sound like a questionable gossip.

Raven chuckled awkwardly, “No I haven’t done something like that before with anyone.” she paused. “More like Jon got ragingly mad after a friend of mine kissed me a few months ago.”

“Who?”

“Roy Harper. He came after you left.”

Donna thought they could be friends. Hell he didn’t even need to get to know him. That name was already dead to him.

#damirae #a little adjustment fanfic #sum smut heheheh #it'll all come together soon ahhhh #damian and raven #raven and damian #raven #damian wayne #rachel roth kent #dc #fanfiction #writing #ships #demonbirds

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ladyreapermc · 4 years

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Can you please write a smutty smut in Keanu’s POV? How she makes him feel when they are filming a sex scene (they are both actors, first time working together), his body’s reactions, what he wants to do to her later...

Hi nonnie! Here you go. I hope you like it. I definitely got carried away with this and it gave me so many ideas... Anyway... enjoy.

Warnings: smut (public sex); age gap.

You would think that after over 30 years in the business, Keanu would have stopped feeling nervous before shooting a sex scene. Yet, here he was, jittery like a newcomer because it was her. A sex scene with her.

They were keeping their relationship a secret. Neither of them wanted to deal with the press judging the age gap, calling Keanu a cradle robber or claiming she was only ‘doing’ him to climb the Hollywood ladder. They were keeping a secret even from their own families, knowing they would have a hard time understanding it. He was, after all, old enough...

Keanu cut the thought before it could be completed. They had agreed not to think about it. Not to give power to it, because it shouldn’t matter. They were happy together and for the first time, they would also work together and so far it had been amazing.

She was so talented, as he already knew of course, but it was really nice to witness first hand. To see her commitment and attention to detail, her perfectionism... much like Keanu himself. The production team was in awe of her, as Keanu knew they would be. She just needed a shot, so he made sure it would happen. He was just holding the door open for her.

His head snapped up when he heard her voice, the cheerfulness shining through in her tone and in the glint in her eyes as she chatted animately with one of the production assistants, the curves of her body hidden under the dark robe and Keanu had to swallow the lump of anticipation in his throat.

He knew what was beneath that robe. Unlike him, who would keep most of his clothes for this scene, she would be only clad panties and a white tank top, leaving very little to the imagination of the viewer. She was hardly shy of course and had appeared in different degrees of nudity in other movies, but Keanu couldn’t help feeling excited, but jealous.

He had seen all of it, explored every inch of her body, but never in front of cameras. so once again, Keanu felt the surge of uneasiness, but it was quickly washed away when she met his gaze and he noticed her own insecurity shining on them. Keanu wanted to go to her, pull her into his arms, make sure she knew there was nothing to be nervous about. But he couldn’t. Not in front of everyone.

Before he could even consider how to reassure him, the director was kicking out every unessential crew member and calling them to their marks. Keanu took his seat, in jeans and t-shirt, just like the script asked. She took her place behind the door that led to the fake bathroom.

Once the director called action, she stepped through the door and Keanu’s attention shifted to her. The script called for the desire to be written in his eyes and this was something Keanu didn’t have to fake when confronted with her curvy body and the olive tone of her gorgeous skin.

He swallowed the lump of arousal when she climbed on his lap, her eyes hooded and piercing and his hands fell to her ass, squeezing lightly, making her giving him a discreet smile. It was impossible for his body to not respond to hers, even with all the spectators.

Her lips met his in a soft kiss, her fingers threading his hair, tugging ever so slightly and that wasn’t scripted, but she knew he loved it and unsurprisingly, his cock twitched in response, inviting her to grind against it and Keanu had to hold to every single thread of his self-control so he wouldn’t just thrust up.

Instead, he focused on his character’s lines, mumbling against her lips almost in autopilot, while she kept on with her teasing, rolling her hips, nipping his jaw and Keanu was pretty sure none of that was in the script, but it sold the scene so he knew the director wouldn’t mind. Keanu did though because it was impossible for him to fully concentrate when all he wanted was to shove her down in the nearest flat surface, make her regret all of this teasing.

He used the angle of her body, knowing it would block his hand from the view of the camera and the crew, and pressed his thumb against her covered clit, making her arch and gasp and Keanu smirked against her neck, not missing a beat on his line.

They were both toeing the line here, but the danger of being caught seemed to add to the thrill before Keanu was hard as a rock beneath her and from this close, he could smell the sweet musk of her arousal and feel the way her nipples hardened, pressing against his chest.

She pressed her forehead against his, the motion of her body a steady undulation that always brought both of them to the brink. If Keanu was inside her that was. If he was deep inside her, buried to the hilt, filling her up, he would be in ecstasy at the steady quivering of her walls, working him, his tongue deep inside her mouth, teasing and dancing with hers.

As it was, even if the friction was delicious, it was hardly enough to give him release, but he from the flush of her cheeks, the fluttering of her eyes and the low gasps coming out of her mouth, it was working for her. Keanu met her motions, thrusting his hips up, one hand on her lower back, to guide their movements, the other in her nape, keeping her there.

His eyes stared into hers, almost as if saying forget anything else, stay with me and take what you need. Keanu licked his dry lips, his chest heaving with the effort of remaining in control as he watched hers slipping away. Her hands tightened against his shoulders, her body tensed against his and her eyes squeezed shut as she came with a low whine, trying to contain herself. She usually was so much louder.

Keanu sped his movements, playing up the scene and after a couple of seconds, he let out his own groan, a far cry from his grunts and growls when he was actually coming, but it satisfied the director because he called cut showering them both with compliments that neither of them really heard.

“My trailer. Right now,” he growled in her ear, mindful of his mic.

“Yes, sir,” she replied just as quietly before she got up in shaky legs, took her robe once again and walked away.

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #smut drabble #wetnessday drabble #asks #anon asks #Anonymous

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musedblues · 4 years

Text

Born To Love You [Part: 2]

summary: When Gwilym ropes you into a lie, the truth becomes painfully obvious. When Joe makes things harder, there's no telling if he even has a clue.

a/n: Lads. I can't possibly thank you lot enough all the lovely wonderful feedback. 💖 I hope you'll enjoy the second installment of all this drama! Please don't be afraid to keep sharing your thoughts, feelings, and/or predictions?! And if I forgot to tag you, or you'd like to be tagged, let me know!

w/c: 4k

Part 3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Oh my God." You chuckled, raking your eyes over Gwilym's figure. He was dressed in ivory clogs, velvet bell-bottoms, a silk button-up, and a wig of black curls. You couldn't help but giggle.

"What, does it look bad?"

"No, no... not bad!" You eased, laughing still. "Just... so not you!" You nodded his way. Olive clung to your side, trying to figure out if the man standing before you was really her father. He really did look like Brian May, didn't he?

"Well, that is the goal," Gwilym waved you to follow close behind, the sound of his clogs heavy against the concrete floor. He rested his palm on the small of your back, then. The way he did when guiding you through big crowds or supermarkets anytime Olive was in your clutch. So it felt normal. But you all too suddenly realized the act was officially starting.

Ben was walking toward the trailers too, shrugging on a dapper camel leather coat when he noticed you.

"Well, Hello! Is the famous Mrs. Lee really gracing us with her presence on our set, today?" The striking blonde flashed a brilliant smile your way as he stepped in time with your fake husband.

So now, not only were you going by a name that wasn't yours at all, but you were famous for it? You realized then that if you wanted to change your mind, to confess, it was already too late. There was no time to heave a sigh, you were already playing along...

"Hello, Ben. Nice wig." You rose your brows, noticing the strands of blonde around his pretty face. Long hair suited him.

"That's not fair!" Gwilym chuckled. You let out a playful wince because no matter how hard you tried to take Gwilym seriously with a 70's perm, you couldn't.

"It's the clogs, mate." Ben joined forces with you, giving you a sly smirk. You just had to snicker once more, because Gwilym looked like a completely different person.

"I'm to meet Anita tomorrow, you know?" Gwilym fretted in a high pitch.

"Aye, then don't wear the clogs." Ben countered.

Even Olive giggled like she was in on the joke. Gwilym scrunched his nose in her direction as everyone went on poking fun at him.

After last night, neither of you addressed his slip up, or your decision to stoop to his level. You simply went on with some kind of unspoken understanding that if anyone asked, you'd give the same false answers about your relationship status, every time. That had never been true to this degree. Till now you'd given varied answers, revolving around the truth of your relationship. Now, you were flat out lying. Now you were pretending to be married.

So, you'd been nervous, prepared for some kind of overblown press conference where this new group of friends would dig for details about your life as a couple. But you hadn't seen many of them yet, and the ones you had were busy anyway, lost in their own roles.

You spent a while patiently lingering in Gwils trailer while he was called to set, hoping your time here would remain just as easy going as it had been. When he came back for a costume change, you left the space to Gwil, and let Olive wander around behind the scenes, meandering slowly by her side as she stumbled every few steps or so. And like she knew where she was off to all along, the girl led you right toward some of her father's castmates, who were mucking about on a makeshift stage.

Joe was doing some dance that had Ben doubled over with laughter. It was the first time you saw his perm in all its wonder as he jumped from a platform, noticing you. He was already smiling at the way he'd made Ben laugh, but his grin reached his eyes, crinkling a little when your gazes met. When you smiled back, unabashedly, you realized that you were treading very dangerous waters.

You'd been so blindsided by Gwilym's blunder that you'd nearly forgotten just how dazzling Joe's presence was.

Don't look right at him. There's nothing to worry about. You told yourself. He was just apart of the cast.

"Hello, ladies." Joe mused, sauntering toward you as Ben shook off his laughter and followed close behind. Olive reached out to Joe, and attempted to say his name after you greeted him kindly. You'd spent the morning listening to her practice the words she'd already perfected, and hoped a new one would stick out among the few others.

You scoped Olive up out of the way as both actors stopped before you.

"No, no, say Ben! Like before!" Ben coaxed your child to like him the best. She almost had said his name the night before. Now, Olive listened to Ben's plea with a bashful grin, and then shook her head, deciding against obliging the blonde.

"Joe!" Olive leaned away from you, pointing to the actor whose name she spoke clear as a bell.

"Oh my God! Yes! That's me!" Joe laughed, giving Ben a playful jab to really establish his excitement.

"Joe." Olive giggled at these antics and said his name perfectly a second time.

"She'll never stop now." You laugh in realization. You and Gwil called them 'words of the day.' She only knew about four others, but once she'd gotten one just right, she'd say it for hours on end.

"And here I've worked so hard to be your favorite." Ben shook his head at Olive, who looked at him but was still giggling and pointing to Joe. She'd clearly taken a sudden liking to him. Maybe it was his perm, you thought. Joe continued to dance around victoriously until the boy's names were called by some PA. You took the moment to rush back to Gwilym's trailer, but couldn't help and glance over your shoulder to catch one last glimpse of Joe as he frolicked the opposite direction. As he danced away, you noticed Joe looking behind too; casting a small wave you missed as you whipped your head back around and hurried away a little faster.

///

Brian May seemed more like a cheery grandfather, than the musical legend you'd known him to be through screens over the years. It was hard for you to understand that the rosy-cheeked, white-haired man with a kind smile was responsible for some of rock and rolls most iconic sounds. He was standing before you with long arms outstretched, and you'd be a fool not to embrace Brian for all it was worth.

You saved fawning over his legacy in exchange for expressing your excitement that this opportunity gave Gwilym. Your fake husband was on cloud nine at the mention of Bohemian Rhapsody, and stepping onto the set with him another morning in a row was like watching the sunrise.

The next time you saw him, he was clad in the silly black wig and a shining silver button up. Olive was still unsure how to handle seeing her father all dolled up, but she released her death grip on you as Gwilym spoke to the baby in a familiar way. He shook some of the curls out of his eyes and that scored a giggle from Olive; you practically breathed a sigh of relief. It was then, as you were successfully functioning as co-parents, that Brian May brought his lovely wife Anita into the room.

You weren't sure what Gwyilm had told Brian, but even if he'd never mentioned you at all, you knew how this scene looked. You'd seen the faces of strangers in passing as they watched you and Gwilym minding your own business, pushing a strolling through the park. Brian May and his lovely wife were looking at you and Gwilym like that now, albeit, Anita was seeing Gwilym as the younger version of her husband for the first time.

For a moment it was all gasped laughter and starry-eyed stares as Brian snapped photos of his beloved with his clone. Gwilym was a pro at bantering with the lady, almost as if his nerves leading up to this moment never existed at all. Anita spent a moment smiling at Olive in your arms, making your baby smile.

Gwilym took her from you, walking toward the craft table when Joe called his name. The sound of the man's voice caught your attention all the same. Against your better judgment, you stared past everyone and glued your eyes to the actor whose auburn curls were hidden below a giant hooded coat.

"Oh, you lucky girl. What more could you ask for?" Anita gushed. It was then you tore your gaze from Joe and watched Olive pull at a couple of Gwilym faux curls. It was a sweet sight, but Anita's pure swooning made your heart sink.

Between Gwilym and Olive, you were the picture of perfection. You appeared to have everything you'd ever wanted, but you had your sights on someone you'd never have a shot with in a million years. And for what? Just because he was so damn pretty? A pang of terrible, horrible guilt seeped into your being as you watch Brian approach Gwilym with some joke. You had everything you'd ever wanted. A whole family. How could you possibly think you deserved someone else, someone all your own? You were lucky enough as it were.

When Gwil scampered onto set, leaving you and Olive in the craft service area to mingle with the leftover stagehands, you took a deep breath and watched him walk away. You realized that even if your heart didn't hammer for the father of your child, he was always there when you needed him. And Gwilym obviously wanted you around all the same. You realized that you didn't have to be in love with him to be happy to have him.

Then and there, you decided that you were going to give this whole fake marriage deal your most real shot.

///

You traveled back to the home you'd made of your Airbnb around lunchtime, taking the long way to enjoy a pocket park you spotted a day ago. While you pushed Olive in a swing, your thoughts about your current situation kept wandering further away from logical sense as you tried to understand them.

You spent the rest of the afternoon reading books to your daughter and kicking yourself for sulking over selfish desires.

Gwilym finally arrived back long after bedtime, apologizing in a whisper when the commotion of his arrival stirred you from sleep. He looked well exhausted, rubbing a spot on the back of his neck with a wince as he kicked his shoes off.

"Come here, sit." You patted the edge of the queen-sized bed as Gwylim monitored your body language. He was a bit hesitant but because of the assured look in your eyes, he felt comfortable enough to follow your directions.

"Take that jacket off." You suggested. You'd done this once, but the circumstances were different. If Gwilym was put off now, you couldn't tell as he rid himself of a layer, only a thin white shirt between you and his tense muscles. You placed either hand on either of his shoulders and that was a green enough light for Gwilym to start talking.

He told you about his unusually long day and the little things that kept going wrong. You massaged his broad shoulders the best you could and felt his body relax under your touch.

You listened to his rambles of annoyance and exhaustion. The castmates he'd made fast friends of seemed to be beacons of bright white light over the long evening of work.

"Rami is just electric. It's impossible to feel poorly in his presence- I mean the guy just has this way about him." Gwilym laughed, humming in pleasure when your fingers dug into just the right spot of his back.

"Lucy is one lucky gal. They're a perfect match." You mentioned, slowing your massage when your fingers started to ache. Gwil went on after agreeing to your comment...

"And Ben is just so easy going. It's like, if he's doing alright then I should be doing alright." You agreed and admitted how you'd already felt close to Ben. Gwilym admitted to feeling the same when they'd first met, then he kept going... "And then there's Joe. He's just... Hey! He told me Olive said his name, today." Gwilym turned to you with a proud grin. "Why hadn't you mention that?"

Because, you'd promised yourself you wouldn't keep thinking of Joe, in order to avoid the way your palms grew sweaty when you did. So you'd forgotten to mention the incident, knowing if you spoke Joe's name it would probably come out through an embarrassing saccharine sigh.

Now, you just gave Gwil a nervous hum as you slipped your hands away from his shoulders. He kept a studying gaze set on you while you moved away, hoping he couldn't read your expression.

But Gwil knew that look. He'd only seen you pull that face a couple of times, during rom-coms you watched together, and once at a wedding he dragged you along to. And then, like some kind of psychic vision, Gwilym realized, that was the expression pressed among your features when you'd met Joe. When Gwilym was too busy sneaking up to steal his friend's hat to register your longing gaze, then. But everything seemed clear now...

"You like him." Gwil let out a bright laugh, like a kid at a slumber party who was way more excited to play truth or dare than anyone else.

There was no use lying to Gwil, he was the only one who'd been in on the whole truth, anyway. Complicating things by denying what he'd found out was pointless.

But there was also no point in having a conversation about it, like you could tell Gwilym wanted to. There wasn't anything to discuss.

"Go get cleaned up and get some sleep, Gwil." You spoke quietly, turning away from him completely.

He kept a watchful eye on you for a beat, before slowly floating toward the bathroom. And when he was alone with this new realization, Gwyilm felt a pang of regret for being so selfish. Who was he to hold you captive here in this rented flat? To call you someone you weren't? Why was his pride a priority? Why didn't you care about your own wants and desires? He hoped you realized you could call this thing off anytime you wanted...

As you turned off the bedside lamp your mind kept racing. Had you ever even been in love? How did you know what you wanted? Through the fog of your scattered thoughts, came a clear vision of the man you ran into a few nights ago.

You thought of Joe and the way he looked at you, how his glance said just as much as his carefully chosen words, when you met.

Why did Joe feel so compelled to greet you with such a loaded statement? Could he have possibly felt the same buzz in his chest as you felt when your eyes met? Did it even matter?

///

"We have a guest!" Gwilym called as he pushed past the front door.

You sat up a little from your slump on the floor where you'd been sorting through playing blocks that your daughter wasn't even paying attention to anymore.

You shouldn't have been surprised to see Joe walk in behind Gwil, both men laughing at something as they entered the room. Of course, you were expecting one of the cast- but, you still hadn't managed to quell the silly little feelings that fluttered in your chest for Joe.

"What a lovely surprise." You smiled, because it was still true that you were glad to see the guy. It had been a couple of days.

"Everyone went their separate ways today, I thought Joseph might enjoy some company outside of the studio."

Gwil reached for his friend's shoulder as you stood to your feet to meet them. It was a nice gesture. Rami had Lucy, and Ben had his family in the city. Even Gwil had someone to end each day with. Joe must have felt lonely, here on his own. And you hated to think he might have been.

"Well, you're just in time to fight over what's for lunch." You chuckled, gazing at Joe. It took all of your focus not to bask in the sparkle beaming from his deep colored eyes.

Gwilym went on saying apologizing for still not having gone grocery shopping, hating the thought of dining out again, but listed off all the best restaurants in the area.

Then, with a look that let you know he knew exactly what he was doing, Gwilym took Olive into the other room for a change, leaving you and Joe alone.

"I bet it's nice to have an early day off. I hear the shoots are getting more intense." You started in on a polite conversation, all while putting a few toys back where they belonged so you wouldn't have to look right at Joe.

It was easier when Gwil and Olive were around, they were your barrier. Now, you had to keep total control of letting your feelings show, without anything to project them toward.

Joe seemed none the wiser, leaning against the door frame of the small balcony, glancing out of the glass doors to the trees that reached above the iron of the railing.

"Yeah, you could say that." He let out a breath of a laugh. "Telling this band's story, the emotions run high."

Your conversation floated on like that, quite seamlessly. Joe eased into rambles about acting that saved you from speaking up and making a fool of yourself. You listened fondly, and nearly let yourself stare at his mouth as it moved to speak. But that's when Gwil reappeared with Olive wobbling to catch up with him, as he boisterously asked who was ready for lunch. Your daughter raised her little arm, and everyone's focus shifted to how freaking sweet she was.

The next thing you knew, you wound up on the terrace of some hip bistro. You settled into a conversation as quickly as you ordered meals and proceeded to have a surprisingly good time.

Gwil persuaded Joe to do most of the talking. Joe was good at carrying on, but it wasn't an annoying drone. He spoke about things he had a clear passion for. And when he paused to ask your own opinions, you pushed for him to keep speaking, instead. You could have listened forever, and not just because it was easier that way. The sound of Joe's voice was like music to your ears, something about him you could enjoy without giving yourself away.

When Gwil left to get drinks at the bar. He asked what either of you wanted, and you said nothing, hoping he'd come back sooner that way.

You weren't just going to blurt out a confession to Joe, but you were so afraid of chipping your resolve. Letting your gaze lingering too long. Saying the wrong thing when no one else was around to hear.

Thankfully, Olive was occupying the space between the two of you. And the second Gwil left, the kid threw her head back with a sorry groan.

"He'll be back." You reminded, reaching over to cease her whines as she melted into a puddle in her highchair.

As you attempted to assure your babe that there was no reason to fuss so theatrically, Joe leaned over on the other side of the table disappearing for a beat and popping back into view with something in his grasp.

It was Olive's favorite toy bat. Joe handed the plastic animal to Olive who took it as she sniveled. Your daughter must have dropped the thing during lunch and you hadn't at all noticed. But Joe did.

"Jesus, thank you." You let out a small laugh.

Joe grinned, shooing away your thanks. But his attempts at saving the day were barely passable- Olive had almost disregarded the toy completely.

"She's probably due for a nap." You sighed in all honesty, explaining how the surprise trip out had disrupted that schedule.

"Me too kid." Joe looked at Olive like they were on the same page.

"Joe." Olive perfectly and pathetically whimpered, reaching out to him. And without missing a beat, the guy reached back and let her fingers latch onto his. The sight of Olive holding Joe's hand would have melted your heart if it wasn't beating so fiercely.

"You don't have to- ya know," You began to give Joe a way out of his attempts to give into Olives demands of him, but he was already shaking his head before he cut you off.

"I don't mind. She's adorable." He chuckled warmly, watching Olive bring her favorite bat to her chest while her other hand stayed attached to Joe's.

And while your mind seemed to still and capture every little detail of the scene, he spoke up again.

"She looks a lot like you." As if that was a reason he was endeared to the baby.

And if the comment wasn't enough, his tone was all too reminiscent of when you'd run into meeting each other. You wondered if he'd meant any of what he said to you, that night.

Gwil floated back to the table with a drink for himself and his pal. You shot him a look, hoping he realized you were begging him never to abandon you with Joe ever again. Especially if he wanted this whole lie to work.

The alarm bells that whirred louder each second you'd been in left alone, faded when Joe started rambling to you and Gwil as a pair.

And then it was easy as ever, sharing stories, ideas, and laughs. Were you more yourself when Gwil was around or were you just better at hiding behind him? Whatever, you were having a good time.

In fact, Olive fell asleep in your lap while the three of you went on chatting for another hour or so.

When the afternoon was pushing into the evening, you decided to head home since the boys had another early day on set. And when Gwil walked ahead of everyone to fasten Olive in her car seat, your eye caught Joe's. His forest colored gaze on you was evocative of the first time you'd met. Maybe it was because Gwilym was so far ahead, and no one else was looking. Or maybe it was all in your head.

///

Gwilym dropped you at the Airbnb and left to drive Joe back to his. You settled in for the evening and went about your regular rountine; all while you wondered what kept Gwil so long.

He made it back as the night turned black, looking rather pleased with himself. If you had it your way; you would have gone to bed without speaking too directly. But as became the norm this week, Gwil was on another page, annoucing his way through the rented flat...

"So I've invited Joe on our next day off. I know we've been talking about going out for the day, I thought he'd like to tag along again." Gwil reported as he entered the room with a happy smile.

You knew Gwil's heart was in the right place. You knew he was only attempting to be a good friend. But you also knew Gwil knew of your feelings perfectly well, how they could threaten to turn this whole pretend game upside down. And he hadn't even asked you before he'd invited Joe dangerously close, again.

"Well alright." You grinned through a confused sigh, entirely busy rocking Olive to sleep to get too upset.

Gwil knew you were though. And he hadn't expected you to be.

"What's the matter? I thought you liked Joe." Gwilym wondered as he collected his bedclothes. Surely you'd be glad for the excuse to hang around the guy, right? That was the whole reason he invited him over today in the first place...

"That is the matter." You laughed, feeling defeated and defensive all at once.

If Gwil was so insistent on bringing his newfound friend around, you were going to really need to hone in on your connection to your fake husband. You were going to have to make it seem like you had with Gwil, what everyone really believed came naturally. And you were going to have to act like something spectacular didn't occur when Joe turned his attention to you.

And that sucked.

You shushed Gwilym for carrying on the conversation as Olive started to fall asleep. He left for the bathroom with a strange look on his face, like he was trying to solve an impossible equation.

Gwilym was in the shower, and your daughter was silent in her cot, and you couldn't stop thinking of Joe. It made you sick. The harder you tried to shake his image from your brain, the brighter it became. You shuffled into the kitchen for a glass of cold water but only ended up staring at the wall.

Gwilym found you there, in the middle of the kitchen, fixated on nothing. He spoke your name to grab your attention and shuffled cautiously to find out what your deal was.

"Andy said something to me once," You spoke up in the quiet. "After I had a real shite first date. I excepted the night to be magical. But it was shite. And Andy said, 'What if your love takes time? What if you fall for someone so slowly you don't even realize, till your eighty and sharing a house by the sea?'"

You waved your hands around, trying to connect dots with a tethered, imaginary string. It was a long shot. But you had to take it.

"Y/N, what are you saying?" Gwilym cautioned, pressing the heels of his hands down on the counter behind him as he calmly tried to rationalize your blabbering in the dark.

"I think you should kiss me." You looked toward Gwilym as an imaginary lightbulb flickered above your head. "Maybe... maybe we have what we didn't think we did before this whole thing started. And we won't know till we kiss. Until we try again."

You stood as if to challenge Gwil, and he was looking at you like he'd already watched this whole scene play out and was waiting for you to catch up. But you didn't dare blink until he did.

"Gwil... please. Just once." You practically begged, like a kid.

"Will that seriously make you feel better about this?" Gwil's face subtly twisted into concern, but he was moving toward the middle of the room, toward you.

You nodded quickly, looking up to Gwil as he stood to face you. You zeroed in on Gwilym's ocean colored eyes, searching for something you'd seen the likes of in there, before. Right when a familiar sheen flooded his gaze, Gwilym closed the gap. He cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

Gwilym proceeded to kiss you like a Disney prince trying to wake up a damsel. His soft lips melded against yours, and your mouths both opened like clockwork, like back when you used to practice this together. You rested your palms on Gwilym's broad shoulders as he kissed you breathlessly. When his movements slowed, your grip ever so slightly tightened on his shoulders, trying to hold onto the moment.

Gwil's lips moved away from yours, but he held your arms in place, like trying to steady you after a big fall. Your insides mimicked the plummet from great heights, but you were on both feet and there was a draft where something warmer should have burned.

"Was that... what you wanted?" Gwilym asked wearily. Because he really must have already known the answer. You kept your grip on his shoulder and leaned your head against his collarbone; the world's most pathetic hug.

"You're a damn good kisser." You sighed, but not longingly. You handed this statement out like a congratulatory honorable mention ribbon. There were no winners tonight. Gwilym slowly enclosed you in a real hug, smoothing back your hair and heaving his own sorry sigh. He brought either of his hands to the sides of your head and pressed one last lingering kiss to your forehead as a sadly bubbling frustration brewed inside you.

"Maybe... we better come clean, yeah?" Gwilym lightly suggested, rubbing your arms and looking to you as if nothing had just happened, as if nothing changed. It hadn't. "And then, maybe Joe-"

"No." You really couldn't let him finish that sentence. "No, Gwilym. You have to finish this movie without any drama. I'll just get over myself and by the time we leave for home I'll be fine, and no one will have any reason to believe otherwise."

"Y/n." Gwilym seemed to warn. His grip loosely fell away from you as you started to leave the kitchen.

"Just come to bed, please." You gestured toward the quiet room. "We can't be normal, Gwil."

But you could go on pretending, like always. Because Gwilym was an actor. And you wanted what you saw in him badly enough to keep playing along.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

taglist: @sonic-volcano @imtheinvisiblequeen @redspecialty @itscale @stardust-killer-queen @joemazzelo @dancetohotspace @kiwi-hardy @joeneslee @borhapqueen92 @im-an-adult-ish @johndeaconshands @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @beepbeephardy @slutforbritdick @joemazzmatazz @almightygwil

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee imagine #joe mazzello #joe mazzelo x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine

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springsfordays · 4 years

Text

Le Princess Isabella

Hello, Hello!! So I wrote an au fic and my very first one for Phineas and Ferb. I’ve had this idea for an au for a while so I finally wrote the first couple of chapters.

I’m posting the first chapter here and let me say it’s very boring dnndndjdkn. But I wanted to post it anyways. For future chapters I’ll probably just link it. Here’s the synopsis:

In a faraway place laid the noble land of the Tri-City State Empire where in the capitol of the nation, Danville, the castle of the royals resides. Among the rulers is the heir to the throne, Princess Isabella Garcia-Shapiro ward of King Monogram, wishes to escape her life of strict rules and the pressures of royalty for adventures beyond the horizon of her castle. What the princess does not know is that the journey she craves would come a lot sooner then she expects and in the worst way possible.

Read on AO3 if you want though! Hope you enjoy!!

_______________________________

In a distant land far away from the rest of the world in the oceans laid an Island called Danvillious. There the kingdom known as the Tri-City State Empire was thriving. The inhabitants lived a peaceful way of life with seemingly no worries of a threat to their daily lifestyles. Those who lived in land, or the low country, were farmers, weavers, town folk who took care of the vast rivers and waterfalls that flowed through valleys. The people who lived along the costs were fishermen, sailors who surfed the large waves that were as crystal clear as the sky was blue. Then there were those who lived in the cities. They were mechanics, inventors, scholars and..

"A bunch of snobs! Ptooe" a young boy spat onto the ground scowling at the passer bys that walked around him. He very much despised the city folk for their "high way of life" and despised them even more since the only way they get to have that high life is because he does all the dirty work for them.

"ugh, Buford just because you come from the low country doesn't mean everything said about city life is true." A younger boy walking beside Buford pushed up his glasses as his brows furrowed in annoyance. Buford grunted holding up a pointed finger at the other boy "I could'a told you that much 'Jeet. It's always said that the city is the prettiest place to be but all I've seen is grime, garbage, and a lot of fake perfume. Plus how would you know anything? Oh wait! Maybe you would seeing how you're some high and mighty academy student!" Baljeet rolled his eyes "I'm a professor's apprentice Buford but you're a cleaner. Garbage is your whole lively hood."

As the two boys walked they came upon a small brick building right between two large apartment complexes. A sign hung loosely from the top to above the door reading "Flynn-Fletcher Antiques and Mechanics". Buford spoke in a low voice as he opened the door for the both of them, "I didn't always have to rely on garbage y'know. I helped farm the ingredients used to make the food the people here throw away without finishing."

Baljeet turned to him "I get that you miss the country side but you are here now. Try to make the best of it. Like, I bet you weren't able to go flying in a custom plane made by the Flynn-Fletcher boys on your farm right?" He smiled pointing towards the back of the shop. Buford shrugged "Yeah I guess. You and the other two are alright I guess."

With that the two walked through the- in Buford's words- creepy shop full of knickknacks and old relics from over time on the Island. Srnnnnk. At the counter a teenage girl had her feet over the register and the newspaper over her face snoring deeply. The boys walked up and stared at her for a moment. Baljeet whispered in disgust after a particularly deep snore, "Eek she sounds like a broken radiator." Buford sighed a wistfully "Yeah.. A broken radiator with pretty ginger hair.."

"What?"

"Uhh I mean.. Uh"

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding.

Buford smashed the bell placed on the counter repeatedly startling awake the sleeping teenager sending her knocking back over. "Gah! What the hell??" She said moving her head back and forth. Baljeet cleared his throat getting her attention. "Oh it's you two. What do you want?" She said rubbing her eyes irritably. "Hello Candace we were looking for Phineas and Ferb, do you know where they are?"

BOOM!! PRSSH!! CRASH!!

Candace put her head in her hand, "UGH Where do you think they are? Being annoying as usual." Baljeet and Buford glanced at one another then back at Candace. "Aren't you going to try and 'bust' them for making so racket?" Baljeet asked in confusion. "Why bother? Mom and Dad are visiting the capital today on a 'special antique assignment'. No point" The boys shrugged and entered the back of the shop where the Flynn-Fletcher boys, Phineas and Ferb, worked welding a metal sheet onto whatever contraption they were working on now. The two covered in oil stains and dirt all over their blue overalls looked up from where they were working over to their two friends.

Phineas lifted his mask smiling widely, "Hey fellas! You're just on time! Come look what we've added to the wings." He walked towards the other side of the custom small plane to point out the paint job. On the wings the paint a fiery shape along the edges in bright red and orange colors. "Oooooo" the other two boys said seeing the paint. "Right? It was Ferb's idea he thought it needed a more badass look to it." Ferb walked over joining the huddle around the wings. "Well Ferb always has an eye for that sort of thing." Baljeet stated running a hand over the design. Ferb held up a pair of finger guns at him clicking his mouth.

"Yup. Now all we need is to finish the welding which should be done soon. Y'all could wait right over there so the sparks don't get you." Phineas said pulling his mask back over and beginning to weld again along with Ferb. Buford and Baljeet went to the corner of the room where a pile of old magazines, Newspapers and torn books were, Baljeet picked a book and began to read. Buford not one liking to read scrummaged through the papers. "I want to look at the funnies!" He continued shuffling until a single photo fell out gliding to the floor. Huh? Buford leaned over picking up and turning over the picture. On it he saw an adorably beautiful young girl no older than him staring somewhat thoughtfully back at him. The girl was dressed in all white, in huge contrast to her features, and sported gold and red medals and large white coat hung loosely on her shoulders.

"What the? Who is this?" Buford showed the picture to Baljeet. He corrected his glasses analyzing the picture. "Oh! That's Princess Isabella!" Buford's eyes went wide, "Wait! That's THE Princess Isabella?! Ward of the King?!" Baljeet nodded "Yup! That's her, I forget that not many pictures of her actually exist so most people don't even know what she looks like." Baljeet grabbed the photo scanning it some more with a curious look, "Which begs the question how a rarity such as this is in these newspaper clippings. Hey Phineas! Ferb! How'd you guys get this??" He shouted over the welding noises gaining their attention. "Huh? Oh! That picture! Be careful with it!" Phineas dashed over yanking the picture from Baljeet's hand. "Whoof! Possessive much?" Phineas blushed "Sorry It's just it’s the only picture we have of her." He said twiddling his fingers. Ferb walked over "Our folks got it from their last trip to the capital." Phineas continued for him "Yeah Mom and Dad sold the photographer a clock and when dad saw the pictures he knew he had to buy it. Y'know since she apparently isn't allowed outside the castle walls."

"Wow you're dad scored big time! I bet you could sell it for a ton of money!" Buford said excitedly. Phineas furrowed his eyebrows holding the picture away from everyone. "It's not for sale Buf!" Buford held his hands up "Damn okay! What's your attachment to this thing anyway?" Phineas face nearly went as red as his hair. "Well, I just like looking at it that's all. I don't want give it away." Baljeet giggled, "I don't blame you! She's very pretty."

Phineas sighed holding the picture up and staring longingly at the girl on it. "Yeah. What’s not pretty about her?" He moved around the room with the picture in hand, "That long luscious raven black hair. The olive toned skin. Those large deep brown eyes and that cute smile she has.. Besides the things I've invented she's the only girl I've ever loved." Phineas ran a hand over the photo. Buford groaned in disgust, "Oh my God, you're in love with a picture?? What is wrong with you man. I bet she ain't all hugs and kisses in real life. She's royalty, she's probably a brat!"

Phineas stared at Buford with narrowed eyes "Well you don't know that do you? Leave me to my crush on this photo alright?" Ferb and Baljeet looked at one another and covered their laughs. Buford rolled his eyes "Yeah, yeah. Whatever can we get this bad boy into the sky now and leave the princess talk here?" The other boys nodded in agreement and all went to start rolling the plane out to of the back of the shop. Phineas lingered behind staring at the picture once more. The girl's eyes somehow burned through the stilled image. He smiled Simply beautiful aren't you? He carefully folded the photo and stuffed it securely into his front overall pocket and ran up to join the others.

#phineas and ferb #phineas flynn #ferb fletcher #buford van stomm #baljeet tjinder #isabella garcia shapiro #phineas and ferb fanfic #phinabella #phinbella #my writing #phineas and ferb au

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supermanshield · 3 years

Text

But not all of them, he loves

~~~

If anyone’s heart is big enough to love two people, it’s Clark’s.

~~~

This deals with polyamory and open relationships. Clark/Lois and Clark/Bruce. The main focus of the fic is Clark/Bruce, but it’s angsty.

Words: 2,896

A/N: The timeline/continuity on this is weird, maybe. The boys are still quite young (I imagine them at the end of their 20s in this), have maybe been superheroing for a couple years max. There is a league.

Read on AO3

______________________________________________

Jimmy’s chosen the place. He’s absolutely star-struck and aware of the company he’s in, but keeps it cool as he leads their little party into a relatively quiet bar in downtown Metropolis. Barry had suggested a karaoke place in Tokyo, and Clark had to remind him that not everyone he wanted to invite would be able to fly, run, or teleport there. So, Barry is here, in civvies, and Hal with him. Behind them enters an eerily human-looking J’onn, and John Stewart, even though he’s not in the league anymore, but he tells a damn good story and Clark wouldn’t want one of his closest friends to miss his bachelor party. Pete has flown out here all the way from Smallville, just for him.

As if by miracle, Bruce has shown up too, although he keeps looking over his shoulder when they’re still out on the street, high-collared jacket and baseball cap obscuring his face. Clark is happy to see him take it off once they’re inside, but some of that fades when he notices the stiches above one of his eyebrows and makeup covering a bruise on his left cheek.

When they’re all finally settled around a large table tucked into the back of the bar – it’s quiet, even for a Friday, but you can never be too careful, and Clark is happy he let Jimmy choose the location because he obviously knows his way around Metropolis nightlife – Oliver walks in, large grin plastered onto his face. Bruce looks as if he wants to castrate him, grumbles something about discretion and leaving any society reporters at the door. The two billionaires argue back and forth a bit, Clark hears Oliver mention something about it being fine that he parked his helicopter on top of the Metropolis branch of Wayne Enterprises, and yes. They’re complete. The night of his bachelor party is underway.

Lois is with Diana, Cat, and a couple of other friends. Clark has offered to let everyone choose, they didn’t have to do the traditional men-women thing, but Diana said she would choose Lois’ bachelor party over his any day of the week. To which, of course, Lois was absolutely rub-it-in-your-face for about a week. That Wonder Woman wanted to party with her, and not with him, and somewhere, Clark can’t wait to hear what they’re getting up to right now. Everything at its time, though.

He orders everyone a round of drinks, Hal claps him on the back (which he immediately regrets and Clark is the one to apologize), there’s toasts.

“Are you nervous, man? I know I was,” Hal starts. “They say nothing changes, it’s just a piece of paper, blabla, but it does!” Everyone laughs. “I’m telling you, the moment you get back from your honeymoon, you’re knee deep in domesticity and no more going out.”

“I don’t think that will be much of a problem with Lois, Hal. Although we did have that a little bit when Jon arrived. But Lois couldn’t wait to get back out.” It’s Clark’s turn to laugh.

“If anything, she’ll start dragging you out to more things,” Jimmy adds gleefully and winks at Clark.

“Anyway,” Oliver starts, holds up his glass. “Last night as a free man!” Clark’s never really understood that. Lois has already captured him a long time ago in so many ways. All of them he loves, but he raises his half-empty glass anyway.

The table settles into a comfortable chit-chat, more jokes about Clark, stories of the early days of the league, memories and laughs. Somehow, his gathered and stray group of friends mixes surprisingly well, for which he’s grateful. Maybe this really won’t be so bad, and tomorrow will be the best day of his life (or so they say).

Amid the chatter, he looks at Bruce on the other side of the table, utterly out of place between their friends in a dark brown bar and jazz music playing softly. As Clark talks and laughs with the others, Bruce looks back at him. The gaze unsettles him, as it always does, makes him question things, as it always does. It shouldn’t. Not anymore.

(He’s chosen. A long time ago in fact. Lois is the one that waits for him, all the time. That doesn't turn him away. The one to make him laugh and feel at home in a city where no one knows each other. The one that holds him at night when the world has been too much. Bruce can simply never be that.)

---

“We should stop,” Bruce breathes, inch away from his mouth and the wall of the cave wet behind his cape.

“She’s okay with it.”

“To what extent?”

Clark sighs, swallows. “I don’t know, exactly.”

“That’s something you might want to consider discussing.” Bruce turns away before he can come up with a reply. The rock crumbles under his hand and Bruce tells him to leave when he reaches the computer.

---

“… and then Hal went and actually asked her for it! You should have been there!” The group’s laughter pulls him out of his thoughts and he laughs along meekly when Pete taps him on the shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”

“Not getting cold feet are we, Clark?” Oliver asks.

He looks at Bruce. “No.”

The night eventually takes them back out onto the streets, half of them already stumbling as they make their way out of the small bar, but the cool night air sobers them up. Jimmy hangs onto Clark’s shoulders, Barry tries to jump onto his back for a piggyback ride, but Clark is fast to blur away, too fast for Barry, who, despite his fast metabolism, is a little intoxicated.

“So, what now? Night’s still young.”

“That it is, Hal. If you’re on the west coast.” Oliver has his hands in his pockets, Bruce’s cap is back over his eyes.

“Hey, supes can just fly around the world and spin back the clock a little, yeah?”

“You know I can’t actually do that, right? Ask Barry.”

“Nope, not tonight. I’ll throw up.”

“Not to mention you’ll mess up big time.”

“Any other good joints around here, Jimmy?” John asks.

“Plenty. What do you say, Clark? Another bar? Something more adventurous?”

“I have an apartment close to here,” Bruce cuts in. “Bar’s fully stocked.”

“Of course you do.”

“Don’t you?” Bruce raises an eyebrow at Oliver. “Comes in handy when I have to keep an eye on a certain Superguy around here.”

The small crowd looks at Clark, awaiting answer. “Sure,” he shrugs. “It has a nice view.”

---

Lois is pregnant at home on the couch and he’s in an unfamiliar bed, away from her. The apartment feels cold, not kept by Alfred, and only illuminated by a bright moon streaming through the sheer curtains draped across large windows. The bed sheets are white, the walls light, and the corners angular, modern. A bigger contrast with Bruce’s bedroom at the manor is near impossible.

“I don’t know what you want anymore, Clark,” Bruce says as he rolls away from him, sits up. “Don’t you like this place?”

“Bruce. You bought a penthouse in downtown Metropolis. For what? To be closer?”

“It seemed convenient.”

“Don’t talk to me about convenience when I could fly to Gotham in less than a minute.”

“You know what I mean.” When the baby arrives.

“Bruce,” he starts again. But gets stuck, because what does that mean? He swallows, makes a decision in the span of a second. “I won’t be here. He’s going to need a dad. Lois needs me.”

“Okay. That’s clear.” Bruce gets up. “Okay,” he says again as he walks to the bathroom.

Yet after that, there’s the bed, cold and warmed up by their bodies on a chance night, or a take-out dinner on the couch, a documentary running quietly on the large flatscreen TV while they talk. Lois never asks, but only because she knows. Jon grows healthily, strong, Lois falls asleep in Clark’s arms, and he feeds Jon in the middle of the night.

---

Now, the apartment smells clean, the fridge is empty but the pantry fully stocked. And the bar, as Bruce said. Two couches face each other in front of large windows, Clark knows which door leads to the bedroom. He doesn’t look at it.

Bruce switches on all the lights, it floods the place in yellow. It’s bright in a way Clark’s never seen it, he realizes. He pulls out a couple of bottles, asks the others what they want. A mirror of Brucie Wayne, host and not how Clark has ever seen him, here.

“You been here before, Clark?” Jimmy asks.

“Yes,” he admits.

“Sweet place.”

The group gets comfortable on the couches, Bruce suggests they could play pool, and Clark has a hard time imagining Bruce doing anything so casual. He wonders if he’s good at it, if he’s played here before, with anyone else. The pool table is new.

John draws up some kind of a tournament, teams are formed and bets are placed. Clark sits on one of the couches next to Bruce, watching the others play, another beer in hand and Bruce has started a glass of whiskey. He’s savouring it, clearly enjoying the flavour and laughs at Barry’s jokes, J’onn’s overly serious tactics at the pool table. Clark can’t get a grasp on how normal Bruce looks, how calm, as if nothing will change tomorrow. Here, of all places and it’s somehow not fake.

He realizes, Bruce brought them here to abandon the illusion that were those slow, quiet nights. It’s a normal apartment, he says with this. It will be, now. After tomorrow. A comforting thought as much as a terrifying one.

The cashmere of Bruce’s turtleneck is soft under his fingers when he reaches out to him and there’s a glint in his eyes that Clark is unable to read, hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Can I try a glass of that too?”

“I didn’t know you were into whiskey.”

“Hey, it’s my bachelor night. I got taste buds.”

Bruce smiles. “Sure.”

Clark leans against the large island counter as Bruce reaches for a whiskey glass that he could have easily found himself.

“It doesn’t have to end,” he says to Bruce’s back.

“Doesn’t it.”

The soft kitchen light hits Bruce’s shoulders just so, accentuates his jaw, and makes him yearn for simpler times. Bruce on one of the bar stools, humming as he tastes the food Clark’s cooked for him, same light, same cashmere sweater. Who was the one to complicate it anyway? Briefly, Clark wonders if he’s made a mistake by asking Lois to marry him, but no. Bruce is the mistake. Clark was just the one to make it.

“I mean,” he starts. “I don’t know. What difference does marriage make, anyway?” Clark laughs. It comes out hollow.

“This ended a while ago, Clark. Tonight is merely closure.”

Bruce is right, of course. “Okay.”

Bruce hands him the glass, their fingers touch, and that’s it. He sends him a look, one that says are you, though? but Clark doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just walks back to the living room. It’s his turn at pool.

Not an hour later Clark finds himself on the bed, the carpet in front of him only illuminated by the faint light reflected off the clouds over Metropolis. Raindrops stick to the large windows as they trickle down, and isn’t that ironic? Rain in Metropolis the night before Superman gets married.

“Thought I might find you here.” Laughter and yelling drift into the room before Bruce quietly shuts the door again.

“I just needed a minute to come to terms with the fact that we just... broke up, I think?”

Bruce stays in the middle of the room. “You knew that would happen. You chose.”

“I did.”

“Then stop with the guilt. I’ll be fine." His expresssion softens. "I have a kid to take care of now, too.”

“He’s great,” Clark smiles. “I know you will be.”

“Worried about yourself then?”

“I think I’ll just miss you. Miss this.”

Clark gets up and walks past Bruce. The glass of the window is cold under his touch, the street far below them. Bruce's fingertips white, his palm pressed flat again the glass, same view. He kisses Bruce's neck, tells him he loves him. He chooses those moments carefully, when it barely registers, when Bruce is almost physically unable to respond. But he makes sure he knows, anyway.

“Me too.” Bruce’s hand is on his arm now, turning Clark towards him. Bruce has captured him too, in many ways. But not all of them he loves.

(It’s hard to love Bruce Wayne. It’s hard not to love him.)

A tentative smile forms on Bruce’s face. “Last night as a free man, right?” Bruce’s offer is tempting, they’re already crowding each other’s space, heartbeats loud and it won’t take much more now. But that will only make it harder. Clark shakes his head. Still, he hugs Bruce closer, caresses his temple, mindful of the stitches on his brow. Bruce leans into the touch.

“Why does it feel so wrong to love two people, Bruce?”

Bruce huffs. “Society. Most people don’t have a big enough heart. Plus, partners cannot deal with the jealousy.”

“But you do.”

“I’m not Lois, nor is she me.”

They could never replace one another. Clark’s breathing feels restricted, his throat thick, in spite of Bruce’s comforting presence. “What if I don’t want to choose?”

“Then don’t.” Bruce’s hand moves up along Clark’s arm. “Then don’t.”

He isn’t sure who starts the kiss, but their noses touch, breathing the same air, lips brush. There’s no tongue. It’s not a start, not tonight. It’s an end.

“I’m sorry.” Sorry for loving you. Sorry for choosing Lois. Sorry for everything we did together.

“Don’t be.” Bruce is the one to make sure there is some breathing room between them again, his hand lingers. “You and I both know I've always been number two. And I... was okay with that. It was enough. In fact,” he chuckles. “It was almost too much.”

The cave is only illuminated by the blue light of the computer monitor as Clark lifts Bruce out of his chair, already fast asleep. Alfred watches from a distance and thanks Clark for arriving so fast. On those night, he sleeps next to Bruce, just to keep him in bed. On nights that Bruce pushes him away, stuck in a case and his anger almost palpable, even Superman admits defeat. Clark waits for him upstairs and eventually leaves through the window before dawn to go back to Metropolis, bed unslept in.

He’ll make sure Bruce is fine without him. Alfred knows who to call.

“I want to move out to the farm with them. Jon needs room to grow. Rao knows I did.” He smiles at the memories of Kansas, yellow fields and endless sky where he learnt to fly, where he could be himself.

“Stubborn. Thinking you can take Lois out of the city.” Bruce doesn’t know they’ve already talked about it. “But that’s good. I’ll make sure to visit with Dick and Alfred.”

“We can play baseball.” Outside, the rain has stopped, the sky slowly turning lighter.

Bruce throws him something as he walks back to the door. The key to the apartment. “Stay here tonight.”

“It’s morning.”

“Whatever. I’m going home, I’ll see you at the wedding.”

“Catch some sleep,” Clark tries before Bruce opens the door, but he’s already gone.

In the living room, the others are in various states of consciousness. John and J’onn, back in his alien form, are still wrapped up in their game of pool, Barry and Hal asleep on the couch and Jimmy and Pete passed out on the other. The coffee table between them is littered with beers and glasses. Oliver has his forehead on the cool marble of the kitchen island. He turns his face to Clark.

“Bruce just left without saying anything. What happened?”

Clark thinks, shrugs. “Not important. He gave me the key, we can stay here until we’re ready to go to the wedding in a couple hours.”

“A couple hours…” Oliver groans.

“Is that an early wedding gift, Clark?” John asks from over by the pool table.

Clark looks at the key in his hand. “No,” he chuckles. “I’m pretty sure he’ll want it back.”

“I’ll never understand the guy.”

“Don’t even try. That’s what we have Clark for,” Oliver says to the marble counter.

“I mean, I like to think I’ve got a pretty good grasp of him, but he surprises me too.” His soft insides contrasted by a hard shell, blackened by trauma and the night. His cryptic language that is like a puzzle for Clark to unfold, understand, reciprocate. They’ll still have that, have friendship. And the memories of time spent together.

In the distance, he hears Bruce’s heartbeat speeding back to Gotham. With him, doubt that leaves Clark, replaced with a light and excitement. He looks out the window up at the blue sky over the city. He’s getting married today.

He regards his friends, a bunch of gathered individuals, outcasts like himself who have found each other through Clark, through the purpose of trying to do good. “Who wants breakfast? I’ll go get eggs.”

#superbat #write write #clois endgame but superbat also endgame but clark makes a choice #you know when you make yourself cry... i hope i make all of you cry too #please address all complaints to detective comics comics

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jaybear1701 · 4 years

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Scylla's so engrossed in the latest issue of the American Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology that she doesn’t notice Tally enter her office until she plops herself in a seat on the other side of her desk.

“Good morning!” Tally greets.

“Morning.” Scylla smiles, closing the journal. “You’re up bright and early.”

“Couldn’t sleep. I think we might have a break in the Windpipe murders,” Tally waves a manila folder and Scylla grits her teeth that Raelle’s anatomically incorrect nickname is spreading. Even the news media has picked it up in their coverage, much to Scylla’s chagrin. “Thought maybe Raelle would be down here so I could share the news.”

Scylla's brows knit together. "Why would she be down here?"

“Because you’re practically joined at the hip,” Tally says matter-of-factly, like, duh.

The blaze on Scylla’s cheeks spreads fast and fierce. “T-that’s not,” she stutters. “We’re not joined at the hip.”

“That’s not what Sergeant Quartermaine says.” Tally shrugs. “Or Abigail. Or Dr. L’Amara. Should I go on?”

And because Raelle has the worst timing in the whole world, that’s when she decides to stroll into Scylla’s office, bright and fresh, carrying two cups of coffee. Because of course.

“Morning, Doc,” Raelle sets one cup down in front of Scylla as Tally lifts one, wholly amused eyebrow. “Tally, this is an unexpected surprise.”

“Wish I could say the same.” Tally smirks. Scylla wishes she could just disappear from this conversation.

“Wha?” Raelle looks confused as she sits next to Tally.

“Nothing.” Tally eyes Scylla’s cup of shame before pouting at Raelle. “Hey, why don’t you ever bring me coffee?”

“One, you’re usually not in until later.” Raelle ticks off the points with her fingers. “Two, I know Gerit always makes you a snooty pourover, anyway. And, three, well I can’t think of a three. But you can have mine, if you’d like.”

Raelle offers her coffee to Tally, who shakes her head dramatically. “No, it’s fine if you like Scylla more.” Tally winks at Scylla, while Raelle flushes. “Besides, I’ll only stay long enough to share my news so you both can get back to your little coffee date.”

Raelle and Scylla both avoid making eye contact with each other, but neither corrects Tally’s assumption. Scylla’s pulse flutters as she reaches out for her coffee and takes a small sip. Kona, no cream, one sugar. Just like she likes it.

“So,” Raelle clears her throat. “What do you have?”

Tally scoots to the edge of her seat. "How much do you guys know about the history of Salem?"

“Honestly? Not much.” Scylla shrugs. “Which is sad given that my family apparently came over with the early settlers.”

“Really!” Tally’s brows shoot up. “Let’s put a pin in that for now. How about the Salem Witch Trials?”

"The basics, really. I'm no expert." Scylla’s not sure where Tally’s going with this line of questioning, and neither does Raelle.

“What’s this have to do with the case, Tal?” Raelle asks.

Tally raises a finger. "Patience, my dear Collar. Patience. As you may recall, one of the first victims was Constance Treefine. Another, Benjamin Saint. And yet another was Kendall Swythe."

"All High Atlantics," Raelle taps the lid of her cup. “Bells and I already questioned their families. Nothing but dead ends.”

Tally nods. "Right, but maybe you're talking to the wrong people. Those tattoos on the victims? They're sigils. Of demons." She pulls out a sheet of paper, and hands it to Scylla. Sure enough, it depicts the markings Scylla found on the bodies.

"So you're saying, what?" Raelle asks when she gets the paper, tilting her head and flipping the paper.

"What if the killer is targeting people they think are 'evil' in some way. Like those rumored to be descended from the original Salem Witches. People like the High Atlantics."

It's a common enough tall tale in Salem. One that even Scylla remembers from her time growing up in town, though she always suspected it was a myth perpetuated by High Atlantics themselves to enhance their own prestige.

"But other victims weren't High Atlantics," Scylla points out.

"Also true! But, on a hunch, I ran a search and all of them are members of the Associated Daughters and Sons of Early American Witches. The name speaks for itself.” Tally pulls out yet another paper from her folder. This time it appears to be a roster, which she passes to Raelle.

Raelle squints at the list. "You're saying the killer is, what, some kind of witch...hunter?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but we're clearly not dealing with a sane person right now," Tally says. "This could be the key we need to find a common thread about who they’ve interacted with.”

“Like someone with access to potent chemicals,” Scylla says, impressed.

“Exactly!” Tally beams.

"This is incredible, Tal." Raelle hands the paper back and pulls out her phone. “I can’t wait to tell Bellweather.”

“I thought she was off today because she had a thing for her cousin’s wedding.”

“She does,” Raelle types out a quick text. “But she’ll want to know about this.”

“You know what we should do?” Tally’s eyes are round, excitement rolling off her in waves. “We should go out to celebrate this weekend.”

“Celebrate what?” Raelle asks. “We haven’t caught the asshole yet.”

“Celebrate our hard work,” Tally explains as if she’s talking to a child. “Boost morale. You know, rah-rah interdepartmental unity! What do you say?”

Raelle fidgets in her chair. “I mean, I’m game if Ramshorn’s in.”

They both turn to look at Scylla--Raelle cautiously optimistic, Tally openly hopeful and expectant. Scylla knows she should say no. But Tally's enthusiasm is utterly contagious, and her heart answers for her.

“Sure.”

***

The pizza parlor is packed by the time Scylla arrives, the air teeming with conversation and the mouthwatering aroma of baked dough, tomato sauce, and cheese. Scylla nervously tucks her hands in her skinny jeans, worrying that perhaps she spent too much time on her makeup and hair and would look like she was trying too hard… and then feeling annoyed at herself for worrying in the first place. It’s just dinner with co-workers. No big deal.

She sees Raelle waving in the distance, beckoning her to a booth tucked in a relatively secluded corner of the restaurant.

"Glad you made it, Doc.” Raelle smiles, as attractive in casual jeans and a navy flannel shirt as she is in her work suits. “I wasn't sure you'd show up."

The truth is, Scylla almost backed out. Had even dreamed up a fairly plausible excuse to back out. But it’s been several days since she last saw Raelle and, the truth is, Scylla might have missed her. Just a bit.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Scylla says as she slips out of her black leather jacket and hangs it on a nearby hook. She feels the heat of Raelle’s azure gaze skimming down the length of her outfit, and Scylla’s secretly pleased she chose to wear her favorite blouse, the one that clings to her curves just right.

“The others should be here soon." Raelle averts her eyes and polishes off the last bit of beer in her glass.

Their waitress, a pretty brunette with green eyes, slides up to the table and sets down a basket of breadsticks and a couple of saucers. “Can I get you another, miss? And something for your girlfriend?” She winks at Scylla.

“Oh.” Raelle’s eyes widen. “Um, we’re not…”

“I’d love a Pinot Grigio, if you have one,” Scylla answers smoothly. The way Raelle’s mouth drops open makes the fib worth it.

“Coming right up!” The server whisks away Raelle’s empty glass and goes to get the rest of their order.

“Sometimes it’s just easier to let people assume,” Scylla says off Raelle’s questioning look.

“Fair game.” Raelle bobs her head. “Well, as your presumed girlfriend for the night, can I say how nice you look?”

“Why, thank you,” Scylla says, appreciating how Raelle’s shirt brings out the blue in her eyes. “You don’t look half bad yourself, Detective.”

“Now, none of that.” Raelle wags a finger. “We’re both off-duty. It’s Raelle or else I’m fake breaking up with you.”

“Okay,” Scylla acquiesces. “Raelle.”

The pleased smile that stretches across Raelle’s face makes Scylla’s stomach swoop.

A cell phone buzzes, and Raelle fishes it from her pocket. “Sorry.” The corners of her lips turn downward. “Tally says she can’t make it. Something came up with her boyfriend, Gerit. And…” Her frown deepens. “Looks like Abigail’s stuck picking out bridesmaid dresses with her cousin.” She glances up at Scylla. “I know what this looks like, but I swear I didn’t plan this.”

Scylla chuckles, even as her heart rate speeds up. “I didn’t say anything.”

So it’s just her and Raelle. Alone. Having dinner. As if on cue, the restaurant dims its lights for the dinner crowd, and they both nervously laugh.

“So,” Scylla says, racking her brain for something to say that can distract them from the sudden awkwardness that descends on them.

“So.”

"You guys have been busy lately.” Work is always a safe subject, Scylla thinks as she picks up a bottle of olive oil from the table and pours some on her saucer. She tears a small chunk off one of the breadsticks, dips it into the oil, and eats it. It’s soft, garlicky, and deliciously savory, and Scylla nearly moans.

Raelle tears her eyes from Scylla’s lips and helps herself to the bread, too. "Yeah, we’ve been trying to chase down the leads from Tally’s research. Think we're making headway in the case."

"That's terrific."

“After that robbery, I think Quartermaine will have my ass if we don’t solve the case soon.” Raelle takes a big bite out of a bread stick.

“Probably.” Scylla nods. “Anacostia is nothing if not results-driven. Demanding, but fair.” She takes a deep breath, willing to take a chance with Raelle. “It’s what makes her a great mom.”

Raelle practically chokes, coughing so hard that Scylla wonders if she should start performing the Heimlich maneuver. But the server rushes over to give her a glass of water. “Mom?” She asks after she gulps some water down. “Quartermaine doesn’t have kids.”

Scylla bites her lip. “She was my court-appointed guardian, after my parents died in a car accident.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Scylla shakes her head. “She kept me out of a lot of trouble back then. Reminded me to hold on to the good in life, and set me down the right path. And when the guardianship ended, she still watched over me, even when she didn’t have to.”

“That’s um…” Raelle frowns, a mixture of shock and a bit of trepidation flashing across her face, cogs cranking at the realization of what she’s done with the woman who’s like a daughter to her superior officer. “That’s… wow.”

The server returns with their drinks, and Raelle chugs down nearly half her beer. Scylla can’t help but laugh.

“I’m glad this is so amusing for you.” Raelle swipes at her mouth with a cloth napkin. “Got any other bombs you’d like to drop on me?”

“Maybe.” Scylla grins mischievously. “The night’s still young.”

***

Maybe it’s the buzz from the wine, or the comfort of good food and even better company, but Scylla can’t say no to Raelle when she suggests they take a walk together. It’s the perfect fall evening, with just the right amount of nip in the air. They take their time wandering until they reach the waterfront, where ambient light from old street lamps and restaurants glint off the dark waves of the harbor.

“So, you’re from Salem?” Raelle asks as they stroll side-by-side, close enough that their shoulders brush on occasion.

“Born and raised,” Scylla confirms. “After my parents passed, I decided to go to Johns Hopkins and never looked back. Apart from Anacostia, there were just too many painful memories here.”

“I get that.” Raelle hooks her thumbs in her pockets. “It’s part of the reason I left Cherokee after my mom died.”

Scylla’s chest aches in sympathy. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Not at all.” Raelle takes a deep breath. “She was in the military. A combat medic. Served two tours only to be taken out because she tried to help a convenience store clerk being robbed at gunpoint. Rotten luck, huh?”

Without thinking, Scylla takes Raelle’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “She was very brave.”

“Yeah.” Raelle smiles sadly.

“You take after her,” Scylla doesn’t let go of Raelle’s hand, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Raelle shrugs. “I try my best.” Her thumb brushes the back of Scylla’s hand, and that light touch is enough to spark a shiver down Scylla’s spine. They turn down one of the older piers. The wooden planks creak beneath their feet. They let each other go when they can’t walk any farther. It’s darker further out on the water, but Raelle’s blonde hair seems to glow in the moonlight.

“Scylla?” Raelle asks.

“Hm?”

“Are we… ever going to talk about it?” Raelle’s voice is quiet, unsure, so unlike her usual cocksure bravado.

Of course, Scylla knows exactly what Raelle’s talking about. It’s been hanging over them for months now, unacknowledged and unsaid. She supposes this conversation is inevitable, no matter how badly she’d rather avoid it.

“I honestly don’t know what to say,” Scylla says. “That night, I was trying to, I don’t know, live a little. In the spur of the moment. It’s not something I’m used to doing.”

“Me neither.” Off Scylla’s incredulous look, Raelle adds, “Look, I know there are lots of rumors about me. But they’re not true.”

“So you don’t have all-nighters?” Scylla tries not to sound jealous.

Raelle laughs softly. “That’s not what you think it means.”

“Then enlighten me.” Scylla crosses her arms.

“Sometimes the other detectives need someone to cover a stake out for them. And I volunteer in exchange for little favors.”

“What kind of favors?”

“Oh,” Raelle half shrugs. “Like, finding out someone’s favorite coffee order, for example.”

That’s the last thing she expects Raelle to say and, embarrassed, Scylla scuffs her shoe against the pier. “I see.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.” Raelle takes a step closer. “And then you show up at a crime scene, no less. And I thought, maybe it’s fate.”

“I don’t believe in fate,” Scylla says, weakly.

“I didn’t either,” Raelle admits. “Until I met you.”

Scylla’s heart throbs against her ribs. “Raelle…”

“Look, I know you don’t date co-workers. And I respect that, but I just want you to know that night wasn’t just some notch in my belt for me. It was special. You’re special. And I…”

Scylla surges forward and captures the rest of Raelle’s words with her lips. A beat passes and Raelle places her hands on Scylla’s hips to pull her closer. The kiss deepens and it’s as dizzying as Scylla remembers, like the ground has fallen out from beneath them and they’re free-floating in zero gravity. She clutches at Raelle’s shoulders, the flannel soft beneath her fingertips. When Raelle’s tongue traces her bottom lip, Scylla gasps from the frisson of electricity that jolts through her. It’s too much. Too intense. And she has to take a step back and out of Raelle’s arms.

“Sorry,” Raelle murmurs, eyes glazed but concerned .

Scylla shakes her head.”No, I’m sorry.” It’s hard to catch her breath, and she already misses Raelle’s warmth. “I think about that night. Of course, I do. And I panicked that morning and left. I didn’t expect to see you again, either, or that you’d be… you.” She licks her still-tingling lips. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m not very good at letting people in. But you? You make me want to try.”

Raelle reaches out and cups Scylla’s face with one hand. “There’s no rush.” Her thumb caresses her cheek, and Scylla leans into her palm, eyes closing. “Take as much time as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

***

Raelle drives Scylla home to her apartment building, and it takes all of Scylla’s willpower to stop herself from pulling Raelle inside right then and there, caution be damned. But Raelle’s a true southern gentlewoman and leans over to give Scylla a goodnight peck on the cheek, making sure she’s safely inside before heading home.

***

Tally calls her the next morning, awfully curious to know how dinner went. Scylla can practically feel Tally’s glee over the line.

“I told you, Tally, it was fine,” Scylla says as she presses the phone to her ear. “Just a quiet dinner between colleagues.”

“That’s it?” Tally’s disappointment is palpable.

“That’s it.” Scylla feels bad about lying, but she wants to keep whatever she has with Raelle to herself, for now. It’s too new. Too uncertain. A sprout that needs cultivation and shelter. Her cell beeps from a text as Tally begins to talk about Gerit.

Scylla's heart stops when she reads it.

Raelle Collar: I can’t stop thinking about you.

Affection fills her chest, fuzzy and warm. She types back: I miss you, too.

***

At work, nothing really changes. On the surface, their normal routine continues and they keep things strictly professional. Raelle drops off a coffee every morning, and Scylla updates the detectives with new autopsy findings when she has them. And, in the rare moments they’re alone, they steal heated kisses that Scylla can feel all the way down to her toes.

Raelle is true to her word, and doesn’t push Scylla for any more than she’s ready to give. They can’t quite say they’re dating, when they have no time to actually go on any. But their pace suits Scylla just fine. Slow and steady.

And their colleagues are none the wiser. Except for Anacostia, who comments at their next lunch, “Something’s different about you. You’re...glowing.”

“I did use a new shampoo recently.” Scylla deflects and flips her hair. “Maybe that’s it?”

Anacostia narrows her eyes. “No, that’s not it.” She spears a piece of kale from her salad. “Collar’s been different lately, too. Calmer. More focused.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

Humming, Anacostia chews thoughtfully. “What indeed.”

***

Eventually, Abigail calls Scylla into a meeting with Tally and Raelle. They sit around a table in a small meeting room that’s been serving as the command hub for the Windpipe Killer case. Photographs of the victims are taped to multiple white boards that line the walls of the room, with various bits of evidence, timelines, and potential leads are scribbled in blue dry erase marker.

Abigail nods at Scylla when she enters, Tally waves her hand excitedly, and Raelle gives her a small secret smile that makes Scylla’s heart skip a beat.

“How can I help you, ladies?” Scylla joins them at a conference table littered with notes, three venti-sized coffee cups, and half-eaten boxes of Chinese takeout.

“Remember when you told me your family helped settle Salem?” Tally asks, typing furiously on her laptop keyboard.

“Sure,” Scylla says.

“And did you know that one of your ancestors was accused of witchcraft?” Tally looks up, her brown eyes wide.

Scylla can’t help but laugh. “What?”

Tally swivels her computer screen toward Scylla. It shows lists of names and several family trees. “From your mother’s side, I traced your genealogy to Sarah Cloyce, who was accused but never indicted by a grand jury during the Witch Trials.”

“We’re working on a theory that the killer, whoever he or she may be, is targeting the ancestors of women and men suspected of witchcraft,” Abigail says.

“Right,” Scylla nods. “Tally mentioned that before.”

Tally snaps her fingers. “Yes, but not just any ancestors. The ones who were accused, but either escaped, were pardoned, or were never indicted.”

“All the victims fit the profile,” Abigail stands and walks toward one of the whiteboards, scrutinizing the picture of Kendall Swythe.

“Okay,” Scylla says. “So you’re saying the killer is, what, trying to finish the job?”

“Bingo,” Raelle finally speaks up. “I knew you were a sharp one, Doc.”

Scylla shakes her head. “Am I in danger of some sort?”

“No,” Raelle quickly reassures her. “Not at all. Unless you’re secretly a member of a Salem witch society. It’s the one common thread we’ve found among all the victims.” She pauses. “Are you?”

“Of course not,” Scylla frowns. “Then why are you telling me this?”

Abigail turns back around, hands held behind her back. “If the killer is among them, we don’t want to tip them off by questioning folks. We need someone to join that group and be our eyes. Someone who can prove their lineage.”

“Who isn’t from a family of well-known law enforcement officials,” Tally inclines her head toward Abigail.

“You don’t have to decide right away,” Raelle says. “But obviously I’d keep you,” she clears her throat and Abigail rolls her eyes. “We’d keep you safe until we catch this son of a bitch.”

Scylla doesn’t even hesitate. “I’ll do it.”

Raelle blinks in surprise. “Are you sure? If you need some time to think it over...”

“No.” Scylla locks eyes with Raelle. “I’m in.”

#raylla #motherland fort salem #mfsweek #raelle collar #scylla ramshorn #non-magic au

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adora2723 · 4 years

Text

Full Frontal Collision

This is from Lena's pov after she 'offers up her sympathies' to Kara.

Sort of. It kinda ran away from me.

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Her heels clicked on the polished office floor. The sound echoing eerily in the empty bullpen normally filled with buzzing workers and ringing phones. Usually, Lena welcomed emptiness. The cold comfort of loneliness offering a special shelter you only learned to appreciate by coming back from betrayal. Again. And Again. And Again.

Today, the emptiness sat heavy in the back of her throat. Or maybe it was the apology she forced herself to spit out. But she didn’t really have to force anything did she? Lena saw Kara standing there, looking so completely unlike herself. Withdrawn. Sad. So it was inevitable really - a split-second decision - to go after her.

And she’d imagined it, too. What it would be like if, when, they reunited. She’d stay cold, indifferent at first. Lay out all her logical reasoning, reasonably. She’d confront Kara and tell her that she knew, all along. That she wanted to use her, like she’d been used by Supergirl, by Kara, by everyone. How much it hurt.

And Kara would realise. Kara would see the huge mistake she’s made and apologise, and beg, and yearn for her forgiveness. She’d have to have valid reasons, too. That she was trying to protect Lena (Everybody else knew, too. Were they not in danger?). That she did not know how after so many years (so many opportunities - Lena could name four off the top of her head). That she did not want to lose her (and that Lena understood).

And she would forgive her. Not completely. Not immediately. But eventually. Fully. She’d tell her side of things and Kara would say her part and she’d repent and they would cry and then they would hug and from the sobbing, crumpled mess on the floor they would rise - like a phoenix from the ashes - their new-born friendship stronger then ever.

But Lena didn’t stay calm and Supergirl didn’t repent. Lena said how she’d been hurt, and really, she wasn’t yelling because she was mad but because she was sad. And hurt. Heartbroken. And she didn’t want to inflict pain, not physical at least. It’s just that she felt so alone for the longest time. Alone in her grief. Alone in her fight. Alone in her hurt. That just this once, with this person that meant the world to her, she wanted to share that experience. After all, Kara and Lena shared everything together: their laughter and time, their love and their food, their joy and sadness. And now Lena was realising that she might be all alone, after all. Alone in this home she made in Kara. So if nothing else was real, her hurt certainly was. And if Kara could just experience the same hurt she inflicted on Lena then she might understand.

But Kara did not. She seemed distraught, yes. But who’s to say it wasn’t just another act? And at any rate, love and hate go together and if you feel hurt that implies you felt something in the first place. And Kara just did not.

She is not proud of what happened after. But that was the moment her heart quite literally shattered. Lena is not one for theatrics so when she says it literally shattered then she felt the grief, and hurt, and sadness burst out of the former constraints of her heart. And the wake of the explosion left her with trembling knees, glistening eyes, and a shrouded mind.

So she fled.

She didn’t have time to pick up the pieces when Kara started serving blow after blow. Hologram-projecting into Lex’s secret lab to distract her, while Alex bugged her system and even had enough time to point a lethal weapon in space to pulverise her at a moments notice.

Trying with fake-sentiments, and fake-apologies, and fake-tears. Not even trying with real-I’m sorries, and please forgive me’s and I miss you a lots. Not even trying as Kara. Real or fake.

It took a while but she eventually was back to her former self. Former, former that is. A Lena pre-Kara. She’d patched up her heart with duct-tape. Filled up the holes with the cement of loneliness, and supported the fragile structure with pillars made of boxes. She’d lived that way before and she could do it again but it felt different this time. More hollow somehow. The duct-tape wasn’t sticking, and the cement was runny, and the pillars kept falling over because the boxes were full to burst.

And then Kara called her a villain. And she tried to ignore it. And then Kara didn’t even come back to apologise. And she tried to ignore that, too. And then Kara’s dad died. And she couldn’t.

Because as much as she liked to think that there wasn’t a single honest moment in their friendship, in her heart of hearts Lena knows that’s not true. Because she felt it and she knows Kara felt it, too. Because still, after everything, Kara is the only person who really knows her. And she knows Kara. And now Supergirl, too.

And she remembers early on in their friendship - when their meetings were still new and tentative - even then she connected to Kara on a deeper level. And when Kara talked about how she should visit Lillian in prison because at least she could still talk to her, Lena felt Kara’s pain in her own heart. And Supergirl lost everything.

And it is with a sudden realisation that Lena remembers meeting Kara’s mom. Back when Sam was still here, and now she’s hurting for different reasons. She’s hurting because she misses Sam, but that is a box she buried deep down and she can’t possibly unpack right now because everything will topple over. She’s hurting because Kara found her mom again - after believing she died along with everybody else - and she didn’t even mention it to Lena with even one word. If Lena found out that her mother was somehow, miraculously, alive again Kara would have been the first to know.

She would have ran into her open arms and sobbingly collapsed in her embrace. But Kara didn’t. Because she couldn’t. And that must have hurt, too.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Maybe Kara wanted to tell Lena but she didn’t know how and that’s why she came to Lena as Kara on that same evening, even more sunny and smiley than usual, and hugged her for a minute straight. Lena was taken aback by the force of her love but stayed and relished in the warmth of it. Asked her what had her grinning like a Cheshire cat and laughed when Kara said just because and gave her a kiss on the cheek before leaving as quickly as she came.

And she was hurting for Kara, because Kara lost that, too. She lost her mom again, after just getting her back. Her whole planet. And now she’s just hurting for herself, for Kara, for what they had. For what they used to be. And more than anything she just misses her. And she should be the bigger person now. Because it’s Kara. She said she would be there for her. Because it’s Kara. And because it’s Kara she followed her through that empty office to where she is sitting now, head bent, at her desk.

The half-formed apology stuck in her throat is the only thing keeping down a full-blown love confession. She wouldn’t even know where to start with that. Hasn’t even confronted herself with its full implications. It comes out anyway:

“Kara.”

It’s a bit of a blur after that. She wants to say so many things but somehow ends up saying the most stupidest things. 3 PhDs? She shouldn’t even have graduated kindergarten. But Lena tries. Tries to find that connection again. Tries to find that uptick of Kara’s smile that Lena could always pull from her. Tries to find that spark of love in Kara’s eyes that always used to be there.

But Kara’s not even meeting her eyes. And maybe it’s too late. The easy warmth and blanket of friendship is gone and Lena finds herself trembling in the cold of the empty bullpen. It’s an unusually dark and dreary day for National City and the comfort of the sun’s warm rays is sorely missed. Everything dulls. So Lena leaves. Her heels clicking loudly in the empty office as she makes her way back to the elevator. Hoping that the loud echoes drown out her blaring thoughts aching to be set free. Desperately hoping Kara comes after her. Wishing she would see her gesture as the olive branch it is and just...

But as the elevator doors open with a loud ding, Lena spares one last glance over her shoulder at Kara. Their eyes meet. She goes to say something. Anything. She opens her mouth, inhales and Kara turns her face away from her. Lena exhales. Her shoulders slump. She’s stepping into the elevator, back turned, doors closing.

“Lena, wait!”

Part 2

#supergirl #supercorp #kara x lena #supercorp endgame #supergirl fanfic #supercorp fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #supercorp fanfiction #supergirl season 5 #5x17 #director danvers #supergirl 5x17 #fix it fic #kara danvers #kara zor el #lena luthor

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