#back to back someone calling him a 'precious cinnamon roll' and someone else saying hes 'sketchy as hell' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misty720 · 11 months

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That's my husband - Ch7:

Monday morning and no alarm sounds to wake the dead was what Chara looked forward to every week. Papyrus still rose early to jog, shower, wake the kids, and make breakfast. Chara still took the horde to school except Papyrus woke her instead of the annoying buzzer from the clock. However, this morning he started with waking his woman with a kiss on the back of her neck and then her shoulder feeling challenged after Sunday's failed advance. Chara squirmed against him as she began coming to and rolled over to wrap her arms around him. He gave her a sweet kiss which she returned and rolled him over her. As if on cue, a knock echoed from the bedroom door and a scruffy little voice called, "Momma, Papa! We're ready for breakfast!"

"NO ONE'S HERE BY THOSE NAMES!" Papyrus answered receiving a light chastising smack on his arm from Chara.

"Go jog. I'll throw some pasteries in the oven and scramble some eggs. I can do that much," she fussed playfully. Her husband just laughed and kissed her before standing up to stretch. "Good morning, Kabel," Chara exited and pat her troublemaker on the top of his head. "How about I make you kids some cinnamon rolls, scrambled eggs, and cut some fruit?"

"Did we do something bad?" he asked following her heels down the stairs.

"No, not at all. Why do you ask, my love?"

"Then why are you punishing us with breakfast?"

"KABEL SKELETON, APOLOGIZE TO YOUR MOTHER," Papyrus scolded him leaving the bedroom to go for a run. "I EAT HER COOKING TOO, AND YOU DON'T HEAR ME COMPLAIN."

Chara inhaled slowly and pinched the bridge of her nose. 'That... that's my husband alright...' she thought to herself knowing he didn't mean it how it came off.

"Sorry, Momma..." Kabel obeyed.

"It's alright, sweetie. Just be careful about things you say to others. Think first and ask yourself if it would make you feel bad hearing someone else saying it to you. A lot of times, the answer is correct, but not always. What's funny to one person might be hurtful to another. Everyone is different, my love." After breakfast, Papyrus rode with them so he and Chara could run some errands while out. "Pap, you know you could have stayed home and rested. I know you're tired," she made conversation.

"NONSENSE! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL NEVER TIRE WHEN THERE'S WORK TO BE DONE! BESIDES, I LIKE BEING THE PASSENGER FOR ONCE," he joked.

Chara just smiled, rolled her eyes, and shook her head. 'That is also my husband...' she mused.

"WHERE ARE WE GOING AGAIN??"

"Well, we need groceries for one. I just used the last of the eggs and milk. I thought we might pick you up a new pair of work shoes since yours are starting to break down, the car needs an oil change, and I need to make a payment on your business loan. I also thought we could grab lunch before picking up trouble and minion."

"CAN'T YOU JUST MAIL THE PAYMENT IN OR PAY IT ONLINE??"

"Nope! Processing fees are worse than the gas burned to bring in cash when it's right next to the shopping center where we'll be anyway."

"AND THAT IS WHY YOU HANDLE THE BUDGET. I WOULD JUST PAY THE FEES TO AVOID THE DRIVE TO TOWN."

"We don't have a safety net in the bank by paying excess fees and spending frivolously, Pap. Those extra fees versus gas spent is only a couple hundred a year but it adds up when applied to everything. A couple hundred here and there adds up quick."

"TRUE, BUT TIME IS A MORE PRECIOUS RESOURCE THAN MONEY AND I CAN ALWAYS MAKE MORE MONEY. WE AREN'T MAKING ANYMORE- WHAT??"

"Are you really about to say 'time'? To the person who was given a way to manipulate time by Gaster?" Papyrus grinned and shrugged.

The first order of business for Chara was the oil change where they were stranded at the shop for an unpredictable amount of time. As she handed the guy behind the counter the key for the transaction, Papyrus told him in jest, "DON'T FORGET TO TOP OFF THE BLINKER FLUID, ALRIGHT. NYEH HEH!"

"Funny, sir... I see what you did there..." the guy replied unamused tagging the key.

'Oh dear stars, that is my husband!' Chara screamed internally and palmed her face in a vain attempt to hide herself cringing at his joke. After receiving the key back, their next stop would be to drop off the payment and spend an hour or so in the store as he went through every pair of shoes available to find the absolute best fitting pair. She had given up rushing him a long time ago. After finally deciding on the perfecg pair, they headed to the grocery store which took half the time getting through with Papyrus because he knew exactly what he needed and where to find it. Chara was the one who liked to browse and take her time deciding which new snacks to try and trying to remember which foods the children randomly decided they suddenly liked or didn't like.

"I'M GOING TO GRAB ALL THE PRODUCE WE NEED WHILE YOU LOOK. SEND ME THAT PART OF THE LIST AND I'LL GRAB IT AND THE MEATS. THIS WAY WE CAN GO HOME AND HAVE LUNCH BEFORE PICKING UP THE KIDS," he offered. Chara agreed and sent him a text with part of her list.

Once everything was loaded in the cart, they stood in line to check out and pay. "Ooh! Someone likes eating healthy! It's not often I see a cart with so much whole food!" the cashier exclaimed in a bubbly voice.

"WE TRY AT LEAST. BUT IT'S HARD TO GET ONE OF MY FOUR TO EAT GREEN STUFF AND IT'S NOT THE ONE YOU THINK," Papyrus cut up with the lady in a hyperbolic manner and pointed to his wife.

"Papyrus!" Chara chastised. "I am not a child so don't lump me in with them."

"Oh! This is your husband?? I would have bet money on you being a child if you hadn't said something! You look so young and adorable!" the cashier kept up her appearance.

"Um, thanks? Yes, that's my husband and he thinks he's a comedian like his brother. Pap, pay the bill and let's go. We don't want to hold the nice lady up."

"DON'T BE SALTY, LOVE. YOU MIGHT JERKY THE MEAT BEFORE WE GET HOME," Papyrus chuckled at his own joke. Chara gave him an indignant side eye taking the receipt from the lady.

"Thank you, miss. Have a good evening," Chara turned to her politely to speak before taking the cart. "Papyrus. Must you?" she hissed exiting the store.

"I WAS ONLY TEASING, DEAR. YOU GET SO TOUCHY OVER BEING THOUGHT OF AS A CHILD SOMETIMES," the tall monster scratched his crown as he put the bags in the trunk.

"Pap, we've been over this so many times. I'm not a child. I'm your wife and people mistake me for your child so damn often if I'm not dressed to the nines. It's frustrating only being seen as an adult through your validation if I'm with you because no one takes me seriously..."

"JOIN THE CLUB, HONEY. NO ONE TOOK ME SERIOUSLY AS AN ADULT UNTIL I BECAME A FATHER. I GET IT. IT SUCKS BEING SEEN AS A PERPETUAL CHILD JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE DIFFERENT. BUT, I THOUGHT YOU WOULD BE MORE ADULT THAN TO BE SO UPSET OVER A SMALL TEASE THAT MIGHT HAVE MADE SOMEONE ELSE'S LIKELY AWFUL DAY A LITTLE BETTER."

"Grr! How dare you make sense to me and appeal to my empathy." Payrus kissed her cheek climbing into the passenger side and took her free hand. She knew he was right especially about others taking him seriously as an adult. People often mistook his jovial and whimsical nature as childish and innocent, but Papyrus knew all too well the harsh and ugly truths of reality. He simply chose to not let it affect him much. He was an optimistic soul with his own little dark side only Chara was privy to. 'Yep... that's my husband for sure...' she reminded herself as they left for home.

Later that evening after homework, dinner, and nightly baths, Papyrus finished his day catching up on his favorite shows. Two tiny munchkins sat in his lap watching with him while Serif studied in his room with headphones on. Chara leaned on him half asleep from boredom. His detective dramas were not her favorite but she didn't fuss since he didn't always have time to watch them. "Papa!" Sylfae grew restless and began squirming under her blanket.

"YES, PUMPKIN?" he indulged her.

"I wanna play before bedtime! Can we build a fort?!"

"Yeah, Papa! Can we?!" Kabel joined in.

"FIND SOMETHING STURDY, GRAB ALL OF YOUR PILLOWS, AND YOUR BLANKETS," he told them.

"You are actually going to have them drag their bedding down here to set up a mess for me to clean tomorrow?" Chara gave him an unamused scowl.

"I'LL CLEAN IT UP AFTER WE PUT THEM TO BED, I PROMISE. THEY WON'T BE TINY FOREVER, DEAR." She agreed reluctantly and watched as he daughter dragged her dollhouse downstairs to make a wall. Papyrus tossed a large blanket over the back of their couch and the dollhouse to make the cover and another on top to make the back wall. Kabel stuffed the inside full of their pillows and extra blankets. It was then that Papyrus dove inside and barricaded himself in. "I, KING PAPYRUS, HAVE DECLARED THIS MY CASTLE FORT! NYEH HEHEH!!"

"Attack!!" both young ones shouted jumping through the gap where his eye sockets peeked from behind a single pillow knocking him and the blankets down.

"It's too dark!" Sylfae cried.

"YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE KNOCKED IT DOWN, YOU LITTLE GOBLINS!"

"Papa, I'm stuck!!" Kabel exclaimed.

"AS LONG AS YOU'RE BREATHING YOU'RE FINE, SON." He then pulled the blankets off of them and bundled them up. "WELL, NOW THAT IT'S DESTROYED, WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?"

"Let's rebuild it! Then, you can read us a story under the roof," Sylfae giggled with excitement.

"YOU TWO KNOCKED IT DOWN SO YOU CAN REBUILD IT. THEN, YOU CAN DECIDE ON WHICH BOOK - WHICH ONE BOOK. IT'S ALMOST BEDTIME." The two rushed to their rooms to grab a book and argued which one was the lucky pick. "NOPE! NO QUARRELS! BRING THEM TO MOMMA AND SHE'LL DECIDE." Chara smiled at him as she draped herself over the back of the sofa.

"Kabel, this is your reading assignment for school. Nice try, but we'll go with minion's pick tonight even though it's a little above your level. This was Serif's book once right?" Chara chose. Papyrus nodded in confirmation and took the novel.

"Rats! Caught again," Kabel sighed.

"What is all the noise??" Serif asked exiting his room for a snack.

"Papa is going to read us a story in the fort we built," Sylfae answered peeking out.

"Which story?" She held up the cover to the small window to show him. "Sweet! I love that one!" Serif joined them in the spacious area making it cramped as Papyrus started reading.

"WHEN I LEFT MY OFFICE THAT BEAUTIFUL SPRING DAY..." As he read the first couple of chapters, the little two dozed off soundly atop their nest of pillows and blankets. Once little snores and steady breathing could be heard, their papa marked the page and carefully removed the top sheets that served as the roof and back wall. He gently cradled his daughter and motioned for Serif to pick up his brother so they could put them in bed. "GOODNIGHT, LITTLE PUMPKIN. I LOVE YOU," he whispered kissing her forehead and tucking her in. Chara was tucking in Kabel when Papyrus entered to tell him goodnight as well. "GOODNIGHT, YOU LITTLE TROUBLEMAKER. JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER AND UNCLE ASRIEL... I LOVE YOU," he spoke softly and brushed the wild wavy strand out of his face.

"We weren't that bad..." Chara pouted.

"WE DIDN'T CALL YOU BOTH THE TROUBLE TWINS FOR NOTHING," he muttered on exit to tell his oldest goodnight. "GOODNIGHT, STINKY! I LOVE YOU TOO!" he spoke to Serif not so quietly and put him in a headlock reminiscent of how Undyne used to do.

"Dad! Come on! I'm almost big enough to take you, ya know!" Serif protested.

"OH YEAH?! YOU DARE CHALLENGE ME! I'VE BEEN FIGHTING YOU SINCE YOU WERE A LITTLE POMEGRANATE IN YOUR MOM'S BELLY! I KNOW ALL OF YOUR MOVES!"

"Alright! Fight me!" Serif laughed as he took out his dad's footing sending both of them to the floor. "You might be bigger, but I'm squirrely!"

As the two wrestled trying to pin the other, Chara warned them, "You better not wake the others up! I'm not staying up with them if you do! Serif, you can stay up since you're so full of energy."

"Not now, Momma! I've got Dad in a full nelson and Imma 'bout to make him tap. Unless he wants to keep wearing me like a backpack!"

"UNFORTUNATELY FOR YOU, I'M FLEXIBLE," Papyrus reminded him as he slipped out and picked Serif up wrapping him around his neck vertebrae in a backbreaker power mover.

"Gah! Dad! No fair! I can't get a grip on you because you're all bones."

"NYEH HEHEHEHEH!! Papyrus laughed all the way to Serif's room where he dumped him on his bed. "GOODNIGHT, STINKER. SLEEP WELL." He petted his son's head, but Serif stood up and wrapped his arms around him.

"Goodnight, Dad. I love you."

"I LOVE YOU TOO, SON. I LOVE YOU KIDS VERY MUCH."

Chara wore a smile that touched her eyes watching them interact. 'Now that... that's my husband,' she said to herself when Serif threw his arms around her and picked her up.

"Love you, Mom," he said hugging her.

"Oh! Serif! I love you too, sweetie, now put me down," she laughed. "I get it. You're taller than me, geeze." She kissed his temple and left for bed with Papyrus in tow.

"THREE KIDS... WHAT WERE WE THINKING?" he mused climbing into bed. "SERIF WAS A SURPRISE, KABEL WAS NOT EXPECTED STILL, AND WE PLANNED SYLFY. DON'T GET ME WRONG, I LOVE ALL THREE AND WOULD MURDER SOMEONE OVER THEM WITHOUT HESITATION BUT WHAT THE HELL WERE WE THINKING?"

"Do I really have to answer that for you?" Chara arched a brow at him opening her book to read a little before bed. "Why? Do you regret having them??"

"OF COURSE NOT, BUT BETWEEN THREE CRUMB GOBLINS, YOU, AND WORK, I'M EXHAUSTED."

"All the more motivation to hire more help."

"FAIR. READ TO ME? I STILL LIKE IT WHEN YOU READ YOUR STORIES." He curled up and laid his skull in her lap and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Of course, my love." She started where she left off the night before reading the first passage again. As his breathing steadied, she couldn't help but think to herself, 'That's my husband, the father of my children, and the love of my life. He's such a dork.' She grinned leaning down to kiss his cheek bone and worm her way into the blankets for sleep. Feeling her shift, Papyrus squeezed her tighter and buried his face into her neck without ever waking up.

End ❤️🧡🤍🧡❤️

@papara-week

#papara-week #shipping #fanfic #day 7

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weelittleweasley · 3 years

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hopelessly devoted to you (f.w.)

prompt: rejection hurts. but what hurts even more is still being absolutely infatuated with the person who broke your heart.

pairings: fred weasley x fem! gryffindor reader, george weasley x platonic reader

warnings: heartbreak, crying, language, underage drinking, very angsty, think early 2000s movie

word count: 8k

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdric @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @starlightweasley @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley @rogueweasleys

It was like pouring salt into an open wound. You forced yourself to look at Fred, how happy he looked as he linked arms with Angelina in the hallway, smiling widely, whispering something into her that made her throw her head back with laughter. You tried to convince yourself that making yourself watch them showed him that you weren’t heartbroken or sad or sorry for yourself when in reality, you were trying to cover up the fact that you were miserable. The wallowing feeling of jealousy and sadness ate away at your stomach lining as you nibbled on your bottom lip, trying to remain composed as they passed you in the corridors.

After they were out of your sightline, you let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in as George places a hand on your shoulder. “You can’t keep beating yourself up about this, (Y/N),” he wraps his arm around your shoulder as you lean into him with a pained groan. “I know it’s been difficult for you, but it’s been two months. No need to dwell on someone like my brother. It’s not worth your precious time, darling,” he tells you as you walk down the halls of the castle, making your way to the Great Hall.

With a huff, you look up at George who gives you a knowing look. He was right, but at the same time, there was no way he could understand the kind of pain it was to be so heartbroken, but still so head over heels for someone. “I can’t help it, George. It’s not something I can just get over. I didn’t just have a crush on Fred. He felt something too or else what happened that night wouldn’t have happened...” you trail off, the memory of that night playing in your head as you cringed to yourself.

Spirits were high as music blared in the common room. Laughter and celebration was in order. A great quidditch game was just won by the Gryffindor team against Slytherin and that meant a common room party unlike any other. Lee Jordan pushed the couch against the wall, clearing the space for a dance floor as Ron and Harry started pour up stiff cups of Fire Whiskey, Daisyroot Draught, and Gigglewater.

“Georgie, put on something that people can actually dance to! Enough of the bloody Cotton-Eyed Joe!” Lee groans out as George bursts out into a fit of laughter, changing the song to something more universally enjoyable. “The Macarena is not acceptable either!”

Fred grabs a drink as people filed into the common room behind him, filling up the space quite quickly. Your heart flutters at the sight of Fred, but you bury your face in your cup as you take a swig of whatever liquor Ron had poured for you. “Oh come on, Jordan, the Macarena is a fan favorite!” Fred laughs as you shake your head, Fred dropping his left eye in a wink, making you gulp and avert your eyes as if it were wrong to look at the tall ginger.

Lee rolls his eyes and makes his way over to the boom box. “You both are dickheads, I’ll man the music,” Lee groans before switching the music to ABBA as people cheer out as the music fills the space. “See? People like ABBA. Not the fucking Macarena.”

Soon enough, everyone has a drink in their hand and is on the dance floor, screaming out the lyrics to Mamma Mia so loud that you could barely hear the original music that came from the boom box settled in the corner of the room. Instead of joining the masses on the dance floor, you kept to the side lines, sipping on your drink as you made conversation with Katie and Alicia, laughing at a joke Katie had just told. Every once in a while you would look at the dance floor, watching Fred as he jumped up and down, holding onto his brother and Lee, laughing as the liquid in their cups sloshed around. You smiled to yourself, seeing how happy they all were, especially Fred. The way his dimple-y grin caused a grin to appear on your face as you watched his every move.

Fred was one of those crushes that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop liking him. You tried distancing yourself, but that only made the feelings grow stronger. And it didn’t help that you were close with his family. Whenever you were with George, Fred had managed to weasel his way into the conversation. If you were with Ron, Fred would always pull you away so you could hang out with “the more exciting Weasley.” No matter what you did, the crush to Fred Weasley stuck.

You shake away your thoughts as you turned your attention back onto the conversation with Katie and Alicia. Looking down at your cup, you see how empty it was. “I’m gonna grab another drink, anyone want more?” you survey the girls as they shake their heads. You make your way to the drink table, passing the dance floor before reaching the punch bowl. But before you could pour yourself another drink, you feel a pair of hands grab your sides, squeezing them abruptly, making you squeal out. “Oh my days!” you grab your chest as you turn and see it was just Fred. “What the hell is wrong with you,” you slap his arm with a small smile on your lips.

He laughs, “Why aren’t you on the dance floor? I know you can dance, (Y/N),” he teases you as you roll your eyes. Fred places your cup on the table and grabs your hands, trying to pull you to the dance floor.

“No, no, no,” you groan in protest, pulling away from him. “I’m not dancing, Weasley.”

Fred has a cheeky smile on his face as he gives you a look that screams, Oh come on. “You know you want to,” he sing songs. “Your favorite song is playing too!” he tells you.

Furrowing your brows, you speak, “No, it’s not.” He holds up a finger before the song switches abruptly to Dancing Queen as the crowd cheers out in excitement. You give him a look, knowing that Fred had planned this. “Oh, you cheeky bastard. You can’t play this song and expect me to stay still,” you laugh as Fred joins in, wrapping his arm around you, the two of you running to the dance floor.

The two of you start scream singing the lyrics to the ABBA classic, Fred twirling you on the dance floor into his chest as the two of you rock back and forth to the music. You can’t help but sport the goofiest smile. You couldn’t be happier in this moment. You were in your favorite place with your favorite song playing, dancing with your favorite boy. Fred brought you close to his body, hips moving against yours as your heart rate escalated, face flushed. You would blame it on the dancing even though it was definitely a consequence of your close bodies.

“I’ll give it to you, (Y/L/N),” Fred speaks close to your ear. “You are the dancing queen.”

With a giggle, you reply, “Don’t you forget it, Weasley.”

As the song fades away in the background, the two of you just look at each other, small smiles on both of your lips as you take the other in. Fred’s hair was messy from dancing, but it was still pushed back to show his handsome face and strong features. His lips were curved up in a smile as he looked into your eyes, his big brown eyes filled with tenderness. He looked so happy and a happy Fred was a beautiful one.

You didn’t even know how long you two spent looking at each other, but it didn’t matter. In this moment, you were the only two people in the common room, the music still blaring as students didn’t stop dancing and singing and laughing. But it was all a blur in the background, Fred your only focus, and you were his.

It wasn’t until his forehead was pressed against yours that you noticed he was leaning down, pulling your faces closer together. You inhaled sharply through your lips as he made contact with your forehead. “Is this o-”

“Yes,” you cut him off sharply before he waits no longer to press his lips to yours as you melt into Fred completely, pulling his body closer to yours as his hands grab either side of your face, cupping your cheeks. The kiss was everything you had imagined. His lips tasted of sweet cinnamon that warmed up your cheeks and sent tingles down from your head to your toes. Fred’s lips moved gently against yours, his tongue sliding past your parted lips as you started softly snogging on the dance floor. Neither of you cared who watched or didn’t watch, right now this was about the two of you.

Fred gently pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, hands still cupping your cheeks as you smiled from ear to ear. He was silent for a moment. But then he didn’t say anything. He just pulled away, removing his hands from your face as you looked at him, a little puzzled. “Freddie?” you speak gently, reaching out for his hand.

But he didn’t let you touch him. He just spoke, “I need to take a step outside for a second.”

Before you could protest, he dashed through the maze of people and pushed the door to the common room open, disappearing. What just happened? Panic dashes through your veins as you follow him out of the common room and to the stairs. “Fred!” you call out for him as he turns around to see you standing there confused as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He chuckles, “What’s wrong? (Y/N), I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Your heart sinks and your mouth falls agape for a moment before you manage to speak, “What?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you and I’m sorry for putting you in that position. It was wrong of me. You’re my best mate and I just royally fucked things up for us, didn’t I? I don’t want this to change anything between us,” Fred walks towards you, searching your eyes for hope for your friendship.

You smile gently and grab his hands. “Fred,” you start, “It’s not your fault at all, stop apologizing.” He exhaled, relieved. “But...I, um, I want things to change between us,” you confess as Fred gives you a puzzled look. “Fred, I like you. I’ve liked you for so long and when you kissed me I was so thrilled that you felt something too. Even if it was for a second.”

Fred sigh and stutters for a moment, looking down at his feet. “Good Godric,” he speaks just above a whisper as you force him to meet your gaze as you look at him, hopeful that he will reciprocate those feelings. “(Y/N)...” he gives a breathless laugh as you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. This would be his confession. He felt the same too. He had to. Or else he couldn’t have kissed you. “You mean everything to me. You’ve been my closest friend here for so long. But I’m afraid that’s all I see you as. My friend...I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way about me. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I knew.”

Your heart sinks to your feet as you peel your hands away from him and look at him with complete and utter heartbreak slapped all over your face. Fred immediately feels guilty when he sees your eyes become glassy. He tries to speak for himself but you don’t let him. “I have to go,” you speak breathily before running back into the common room, The Winner Takes It All blaring through the speakers. How fitting.

You couldn’t let anyone see you like this, so you ran straight to the girl’s dormitories, trying to avoid sorry eyes and worried glances. The tears flow freely down your face as you scurry to the stairs, hearing your name being called out by an all too familiar voice. But you don’t let yourself stop. You run up the stairs, away from it all. Away from him.

The night haunted you like some sort of sick joke. George knew how much it bothered you, so he tried his best not to bring it up. But seeing you so upset over something as silly as a crush on Fred made him upset. “Something you surely know about Fred is that is a damned idiot. He does a lot of things he shouldn’t,” George tells you as you lightly laugh. “But you can’t let him get the best of you.” You knew he was right, but you couldn’t help but morn this crush you’ve nurtured for so long.

And now Fred was able to move on like nothing happened between the two of you. You avoided talking directly to him, rather going through a sibling to talk to him indirectly or just ignoring him when you were in a group setting. But if he talked to you, you put on your brave face and flashed him a smile like nothing was wrong. This only encouraged Fred to move on as well and as a result, Fred was now taking Angelina Johnson to the Yule Ball.

“I just can’t believe he could bounce back like that though,” you speak as you walk into the Great Hall for lunch. “I mean really? He’s taking Angelina to the Yule Ball, one of our mutual friends, and he expects me to be fine? I don’t know. It just doesn’t sit right with me, Georgie,” you confess as you plop down at the table, letting your head hang in your hands.

Katie gives you a confused look before looking at George. “Is this about-”

“Yes,” George cuts her off as Katie nods her head, sipping her pumpkin juice. “Listen, forget about them, alright? It’s done. It’s over. You’re going to go to the Yule Ball, you’re going to look fucking fantastic, and you’re going to dance your ass off and have the time of your life with your hot date,” George shrugs as if it were a matter of fact.

A short curt laugh escapes your mouth. “Sounds great, George. Only problem is that I don’t have a hot date,” you give him a glare.

He smiles. “Of course you do. It’s me, you git,” he nudges you. You burst out laughing as Katie joins you, the two of you clutching your sides in amusement. “Hey! I make a hot date!” George exclaims over the laughter. “Besides, we have a great time together. We’ll take nice pictures, I’ll dress up for you, I’ll treat you like a proper lady. It’ll be fun. But expect no kisses. None of that will be happening,” he tells you with a shiver as you smack his arm. “It’s nothing against you! You’re just like my sister.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off, will ya?” you speak with a small smile as George chuckles, giving you a nudge. “Fine. We’ll go together to the Yule Ball. My dress is winter white, if you care. And please, don’t bring me one of those ugly corsage things.”

George smiles, “Aye-aye captain.” You sigh and start picking at the food on your plate. “Now you’ve got everything you need for the perfect night out. Aren’t you glad you’re going to the ball with me?” he asks as you roll your eyes, mimicking him.

“Who would agree to go to the ball with you?” a voice asks with a sneer grin in their voice.

Looking up stood Fred with Angelina by his side as they took their seats across the table. Your heart starts beating faster as you just look away and pick at the chips on your plate. George, reading your body language, speaks up for you. Thank Merlin you had a best mate who knew you so well. “(Y/N) is. We’re going as mates, of course, but figured we’d both have the best time that way,” George beams, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you give him a smile.

Fred laughs, “That’s one way of putting it. (Y/N), if you need help getting out of it, blink twice,” he teases you with a grin as you gulp.

“Actually I’m really excited to go with George,” you exhale. “Might as well go with someone who I really care for then go with a date that I need to impress and don’t know that well. I reckon we’ll have a ball,” you wink to George who rolls his eyes, laughing at your awful joke as you smile.

Fred just watches the two of you chuckle together as he slowly nods his head. Katie interjects and speaks, “Reckon you chose the cuter Weasley twin too, (Y/N).”

You look at Katie knowingly and join her laughter as Fred calls out in protest, “Oi! Bell, piss off!” Katie spits a raspberry at him before scooting closer to you as you lean into her side. At least you knew George and Katie would have your backs.

Angelina looks at Fred, linking her arm in his yet again, “I think you’re still cute, Fred.” Her words make your stomach curdle, but you don’t let the expression show on your face. Instead, you continue to eat your food and distract yourself with a conversation with George about what he’ll be wearing to the ball.

The entire time you distract yourself from Fred, you can feel him steal glances at you, monitoring how you spoke to George, throwing your head back as you laughed, grabbing onto his arm as he leaned into you. You and George were mates, nothing more nothing less, don’t get that wrong. But still something about the interaction made Fred jealous for whatever reason. Regardless of how Fred felt, you couldn’t let yourself care. Fred had moved on and it was time for you to move on as well and enjoy a dance with your best friend.

--------------

“A few more pictures and then we can get going. Mum will have a cow if I don’t send her any,” George tells you as Katie groans as she plays photographer. “Oh, quit the bellyaching, Bell. Just two more.”

George stands behind you and places his hands on your hips as you place your hands over his, the two of you smiling as the camera flashes and snaps more pictures of the two of you. “My cheeks hurt, are we done?” you huff.

“Yeah, yeah,” George huffs. “Thanks, Bell,” he tells Katie as the group of you gets ready to leave the common room and head down with the masses to the Ball.

You run your hands down the front of your dress. The winter white silk clung to every curve of your body, the deep v necklace showing off your smooth skin. It wasn’t everyday that you got this dressed up; you almost felt out of place as you ran your finger through your hair, toying with the style you chose. “I look fine, right?” you ask George as you two link arms, headed to the ball.

George scoffs, “Fine? Fine? You look bloody gorgeous.” You smile fondly at George leaning into his side. “I’ve got the most beautiful girl on my arm, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world,” he nudges your arm as you chuckle. “I’m serious, I’m glad that we can go to the ball together, (Y/N).”

Looking at George with kind eyes, you speak, “I am too, Georgie.” George presses a kiss to your temple as you walk down the stairs, arm in arm. “Ugh, why couldn’t I have a crush on you and not your bloody fucking twin,” you speak through gritted teeth as George laughs.

“Would that be any better?” he looks at you knowingly as you huff. “That’s what I thought. Come on, you, I wanna show you off to Lee,” he giggles excitedly as you roll your eyes.

As you make your descent down the stairs, you scan the room. Everyone was dressed sharply in suits and beautiful ball gowns. Everyone looked phenomenal. And that’s when you saw him.

Perfectly tailored black suit. New. His hair slicked back, his gloved hands running through his hair. His hand held Angelina’s, but his eyes were all on you. You suddenly felt very aware of yourself in the space, but you didn’t let that throw you off balance. Instead, you held your head higher and smiled around at the people by you. But his eyes didn’t move from you. It was like you had him in a trance. A trance he had no intention of breaking.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you were greeted by Lee. “Wow,” he speaks. “Absolutely brilliant. You look incredible,” Lee beams. “And you look alright, (Y/L/N),” he teases as you roll your eyes, making George laugh. “I’m joking, you look phenomenal. I don’t know how you managed to get her to agree to go with you.”

George shrugs, “I have a gift, Jordan.”

You give George a look, “A gift for what? Behaving like a moron? In that case, yes, you have a very special gift.”

Almost on cue, a voice speaks from behind you saying, “You look great,” making you turn your head. You meet Fred’s gaze and you give him a soft smile while gulping. There he stood in his suited glory, Angelina clinging onto his arm, looking absolutely breathtaking. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, they made a very attractive couple.

“Thank you. You as well,” you say politely even though he did look absolutely ravishing. “You look lovely, Angie. Your dress is stunning.”

Angelina smiles and thanks you as the four of you just awkwardly stand there in a lull of silence. You look over to George, hoping he would take the hint and diffuse the tension. George notices your panicked stare and clears his throat, “If you don’t mind us, (Y/N) are going to go tear up the dance floor now.” He pulls your hand away from Fred as your eyes linger on him for another moment longer. “That wasn’t awkward at all,” he whispers to you. “In fact, that went better than I thought it would go.”

You sigh, “Don’t remind me. Now enough about them. I don’t want to think about it. I want a glass of punch and I want to dance.”

George squeezes your hand with a giddy smile. “Atta girl. Come on then.”

The entire night, you spent it surrounded by George, Lee, Katie, and Alicia, jumping around to the live music, laughing and smiling. It was your mission to forget about Fred and who he was dancing with, instead paying attention to your friends and how much fun you were having.

Katie grabbed your hands and pulled you into the lot of students on the dance floor as you twirled her around, making her giggle wildly. The two of you pressed against each other, dancing to the wailing live band as people sang screamed along to the music. You were having the time of your life and Fred became the last thing on your mind, too busy letting the music ripple through your body as you let your hips swing to the music.

But then the music slows down and over the mic the lead singer says, “Alright everyone. It’s that time of the night to grab that special someone and take it nice and slow.” With that, the band starts playing a slow song and soon everyone is in pairs, smiling at their date with eyes of adoration.

Katie huffs, “Well, that’s no fun, is it?” You laugh and push her arm, teasingly.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and see a bent at the waist George, offering you his hand. “M’lady,” he teases as you roll your eyes, accepting the extended hand with a smile. “I’ll try my best not to step on your feet.”

“Oof, that will be hard considering you have fat feet,” you tease him as he chuckles. One of George’s hands rests on your lower back as the other holds you hand delicately in his, you resting a hand on his shoulder.

The two of you begin to sway back and forth to the music as you sigh, scanning the ballroom, trying to inconspicuously look for that couple. “Don’t look for them, (Y/N). You know it’ll just make you upset,” George tells you.

But as the words leave his lips, your eyes land on them and your heart sinks into the floor beneath your feet. Angelina is giggling as Fred spins her around and pulls her back into his chest. Fred is chuckling as he holds her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. They looked so happy together and that’s what made you feel so upset. “Too late,” you huff as you watch Fred duck his head down, placing a kiss onto Angelina’s lips as you suck in a breath sharply. He kissed her just as he kissed you that night in the common room.

You turn away from the sight and look directly ahead of you, pretending you saw nothing with a shake of your head, but your eyes were fogging up with tears. “Don’t cry over him,” George squeezes the hand that rests in his. “We didn’t come here for you to cry over a boy. We came here to have fun. Crying isn’t any fun, is it?” he tries to catch your gaze as you give him a sad smile. “I don’t like seeing my best mate upset. Yeah, that’s right. My best mate.”

With a soft laugh, you take a deep breath in and calm yourself down. “You’re right. You’re right. We came here to have fun. I’m perfectly fine. I’m perfectly happy,” you tell George who gives you a reassuring wink as the two of you continue to sway. But with every passing moment, you keep wanting to look at them. What were they doing? Were they still dancing? Were they laughing? Were they kissing? What did Fred do?

Inevitably giving in, you turn and look at them again and see Angelina resting her head against Fred’s chest as they sway. Her eyes are closed peacefully as she listens the sound of Fred’s heartbeat mixing with the serene music that plays. But Fred on the other hand is looking right back at you. His eyes are fixated on the way his twin brother holds you in his arms, his jaw lightly clenched as you look directly back at him. Your eyes are full of pain that you try to blink away, but Fred knows how you are feeling. There was no place to hide. Fred Weasley knew you too well. “Look away,” George tells you as he follows your line of sight.

“I can’t,” you manage to sigh out. “He gets the very best of me.” You look at Fred’s eyes and how they stare deep into you. He knew that you wished it was you resting on his chest, and somewhere deep inside he wished the same. You avert your eyes from the boy and turn to George and speak, “Could we go outside? Get some fresh air?”

George nods, “Absolutely. Come on then.” You link your arm with George and start making your way out of the ballroom and away from the happy couples. Away from Fred.

The two of you make it out to the courtyard that was beautifully decorated with roses and mixed winter flowers as you suck in the cold, crisp air, refreshing your lungs and hot face. The breeze makes your dress bellow in the wind as George leans against the wall as you take a few deep breaths. “Take the time you need,” he tells you.

You turn to George with a kind smile. “I’m sorry I’m pulling you away from the ball. You should be having fun and not worrying about me. Quite the date I am,” you sarcastically laugh as George shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize. You’re not just my date, you’re my friend. I want to make sure that you’re doing okay. That’s my priority. Take the time you need and when you’re ready, we’ll go back in and spike the punch,” he jokes making you laugh. “Eh, why wait,” he shrugs before pulling out a small flask from his jacket pocket.

You laugh, “Of course you brought it with you. Godric, I love that we’re best friends.” George hands you the flask as you take a long drag from it, the warm whiskey trailing down your throat and warming up your chest and stomach. You hand him back the flask with a small grimace, making George chuckle before sipping from it as well. “I fucking hate balls.”

George shakes his head, “Yeah. I’m not too fond of them either. To be quite honest with you, I’d rather go back to the common room and fuck around.”

Your eyes light up. “Can we do that?” George furrows his brows in confusion. “What’s left to do at the ball? Pretend like we’re enjoying ourselves?” you ask. “I know the both of us are just going to drink more and pretend to like the music, so why not just go into the common room and drink more and listen to music we actually like?”

He smiles and shakes his head, “You sure?” You nod your head. “Alright. I’ll go tell Lee and Katie where we’re headed and then we get get out of here.” You smile and George starts walking back inside. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

As George disappears back into the castle, you sigh and look out at the courtyard. It was such a shame. A beautiful night to have a ball, spending a romantic night with someone. It wasn’t that you weren’t having fun with George, because George was always fun to be around, it was just not how you pictured the night going in your head. You pictured yourself to go with someone you fancied, ideally that person was Fred. You imagined that he would have asked you to the ball and you would have danced the night away, ending the night with him asking you to be his. It was a silly daydream though. But still a dream you hoped for none the less.

However, the memory of that night in the common room sat in your stomach like a rock. The feeling of being told that you weren’t what he wanted made you feel ill. You never wanted to feel like a second choice. You wanted someone who wanted you just as badly as you did. But apparently that wasn’t Fred.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

Without turning around you knew who it was and you wouldn’t dare look at him. Not right now. You had already seen enough of him. “Shouldn’t you be with Angelina?” you snap back, not intending to sound harsh, but the words came out that way regardless of intention.

You start to walk into the courtyard, allowing yourself to become distracting with the beautifully bloomed bouquets of flowers. The sound of Fred’s footsteps follow you into the courtyard as you gulp. “I saw you leave and I wanted to make sure that you were alright,” Fred tells you as you roll your eyes. “You’re still my friend, (Y/N). I care about you.”

With a small sarcastic chuckle, you reply, “Right. Good to know you care about me.”

In the distance, the roll of thunder sounds as you look up at the sky. What was once a clear night sky now becomes cloudy. But instead of retreating to the castle, you walk further into the gardens. Fred allowing himself to do the same. “I know that things have been complicated between us, (Y/N), but that doesn’t mean we can’t work this out. We can still be around each other without feeling awkward,” he tries to reason with you, but you simply keep walking away from him. You hear him groan before running ahead of you so he can look at your face. You abruptly stop when he appears in front of you. “Please, (Y/N). I can’t have you walk out of my life. You mean so much to me.”

You look at Fred’s apologetic face, but you don’t buy an ounce of it. No matter how much you wanted to take his hands in yours and tell him that you forgive him because you love him, you fight agains the urge and speak with a scowl, “You should have thought about that before you went along and kissed me.” Fred sighs and scoffs. “You know how I feel about you, Fred. And you’re choosing to pretend like I didn’t tell you. Do you know how uncomfortable that is?” you ask him genuinely.

Another rumble of thunder sounds as you look up at the sky with a groan, walking away from Fred again and deeper into the garden. But rather than Fred giving up, he follows you, chasing you through the maze of flowers. “How do you think I feel seeing you come here with my twin brother? Laughing and dancing and being around him constantly? You think it doesn’t make me uncomfortable?” he asks.

This makes you stop dead in your tracks and spin around to look at him. “You’re joking, right?” you scoff as Fred just looks at you. You huff out a laugh, bewildered that Fred would go so far to suggest that you had a thing for George. As you rub your hands over your face, you feel a drop from the sky hit your skin. Great. “George and I are friends!” you emphasize as Fred rolls his eyes. “You think I’m so calculating and manipulative that I would go after your twin? After you rejected me?” you spit at him.

“I don’t know what you think, (Y/N)! All I know is that when I see you with my brother it...does something to me. And I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it,” Fred pulls at the roots of his hair as you frustratedly groan out. It was if the universe was feeling the same way; another rumble of thunder sounds as more droplets start falling from the dark sky.

You take a daring step towards Fred and say, “Well, I can’t help that your ego is so fragile that you get jealous that I’m having a good time with someone who isn’t you.” Fred rolls his eyes and runs hand over his mouth, shaking his head. You couldn’t believe that the two of you were having this conversation. With a burst of confidence, you yell, “Because you know what, Fred! I can’t keep pining over you! It makes me miserable! I’ve been doing it for so long and it’s exhausting. I can’t keep living like this, it makes me infuriated with myself. And now that I know that I have no chance with you, it’s pointless!” Fred runs his fingers through his hair and opens up his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, “But that night you kissed me...you made me think that we had a chance. A real chance. But it was all a lie, huh, Fred? You just wanted to take me out on a test drive before you committed to me.”

Your words make Fred’s heart sting and it’s evident by the look on his face. Your words were harsh, but it’s what Fred needed to hear. He was trying to string you along still when you didn’t want to be. And that’s when he explodes, throwing his hands in the air, surrendering, “I didn’t mean to kiss you that night in the common room! It was an honest mistake, heat of the moment! You weren’t a test drive, (Y/N)! Who do you think I am?!” he exclaims as you just shake your head. “I didn’t know you liked me! If I had known-”

“If you had known, you what? You would have found out eventually. And what were you going to do? String me along like some lovesick puppy?!” you exclaim, the lump in your throat rising as the rain starts to fall faster. The rain dampens your hair and the silk of your dress starts to absorb it. “Regardless if you knew I liked you or not, you still kissed me, Fred, and you can’t take that back! You kissed me! But instead of facing the problem as what it is, you’ve distracted yourself with someone new,” you protest as you allow the lump in your throat to burst as tears start to fall down your face, mixing with the fresh rain.

“That’s not fair to say,” Fred shakes his head, taking a step closer to you.

“No, what’s not fair is you being mad that I’m trying to move on!” you exclaim now, speaking through your tears, pushing Fred’s damp chest. He stumbles back at you continue, “What’s not fair is you telling me I can’t do what is best for me! What’s not fair is that no matter how much you hurt me or reject me or surround yourself with other women, I’ll still be head over heels for you, Fred Weasley! I’ll still want you even though you don’t want me! I’ll still be hopelessly devoted to you!” you confess with a sob, turning away from him, covering your face with your arms as you inhale shakily.

Fred doesn’t dare move a step closer to you. Instead, he stands there, listening to the rain pour down, hitting the tender Earth, the wetness absorbing into his fresh pressed suit. “What...do you mean?” he asks, genuinely confused.

With an exasperated laugh, you yell out, “I’m a fool! I’m a fool whose willing to sit around and wait for you!” pulling on the roots of your hair, you vomit everything you’ve been holding in. “I’m out of my fucking head, Fred! My mind is screaming to forget about you and move on, but my heart is telling me to not let go of you! You’ve pushed me aside! Completely! And I don’t know what to do! There’s nothing left for me to do!” you scream out in the pouring rain, the two of you completely soaked standing in the garden. Your chest is heaving in the rain as you just stare at Fred who looks at you, so sad and so torn up. But he is silent. For the first time in a long time, Fred Weasley is speechless.

In a more calm voice, you speak out in the garden over the rain, “I will always be foolishly and hopelessly devoted to you. And I’m sorry. So if I can’t let you go, you’ll have to be the one to do it.” Fred is still silent as you scoff, knowing that he can’t find the words he wants to say. He just stands there in the rain, hands in his pockets as you shake your head, pushing past him, through the garden to get back to the castle.

“(Y/N)!” he calls out as you ignore him, only picking up your pace as you run out of the courtyard and back into the castle. “(Y/N)!”

As you enter the castle, you see George who looks at you confused as to why you were suddenly drenched, but the rumble of thunder behind you answers his question. But that didn’t answer why you were crying. And then Fred runs into the castle, also completely drenched, and George puts together the puzzle pieces. Katie, who stands next to George, gives you a sad look before speaking, “Let’s get you dry.” You run into Katie’s arm, crying as she rubs your back and guides you up the stairs to get back to the common room.

George just stands there, looking at his twin, shaking his head. Fred looks at his twin, not knowing what to do now. Does he chase after you? Does he take care of you? But next to George stands Angelina who looks at him completely confused. Fred sighs, knowing that he’s really gotten himself into trouble. And there was no easy escape out of it.

Back in the common room, you have changed into cozy pajamas and are adorned with a fuzzy blanket as the fire roars, warming you up from the freezing rain. Katie sits next to you, rubbing your back as you rested your head on her shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We can just sit here, have a drink, and listen to all the music you want,” she speaks as you nod against her shoulder. Lee hands Katie a cup to which she hands to you as you take a small sip of.

Lee turns on the boom box in the corner, gently switching through songs before the intro to Dancing Queen starts playing. The sound makes you sit up straight, reminding you of that same damned night as you speak up, “Change the song.” Lee gives you a confused look before switching the song to something different.

Katie gives you a puzzled look as you pull the blanket around you tighter. “I thought you loved that song.”

“Not anymore,” you sigh. “He ruined that too.”

-------------------

The days had gone by slowly but surely. Each day you separated yourself more and more from Fred and tried to keep interactions limited. But it was all difficult since seeing George meant seeing Fred. No matter what though, you knew that Katie and Alicia had your back, giving your hand a squeeze under the table at the Great Hall as he walked in with George.

Even though you knew the chances of you and Fred ever happening were down the toilet, you couldn’t help the fact that your heart still fluttered at the sight of him. Your stomach still did somersaults at the mention of his name. When you saw his silhouette in the hall, your heart raced with excitement and anticipation. But you couldn’t let yourself give into him.

You sat in your room one night, writing in your journal, keeping yourself busy as Alicia rose from her bed and put on her shoes. “I’m going to head down to the common room to meet up with Katie. We’re gonna study in the library. You wanna come?” she asks with a smile.

“I think I’m going to stay in. Thanks though,” you tell her before she slips out of the room. The door closes behind her as you shut your journal and huff, resting your arms on your shoulders.

Rising from the bed, you look out of your window and look at the beautiful Scottish scenery that was slowly being covered in snow. It was gorgeous, the green grass being covered in powdery white snow that shimmered in the late afternoon sun as it set in the horizon. You smiled to yourself softly as you watched the snow fall from the sky.

It brought you back one of the days it snowed three years ago. George had pounded on your door to put on snow shoes and your jacket. He insisted it was packing snow, perfect snow for a snowball fight. Of course, you had gotten ready in a flash, you, the twins, Katie, and Alicia all running outside of the castle to hurl snowballs at each other, laughing and squealing as the cold snow hit your skin. You remember Fred sneaking up behind you and dumping a chunk of snow down your shirt as you yelped out before smacking him with a snowball as he cackled. With a sneaky smile, you jumped on his back and did the same, shoving a snowball down his shirt as he yelled out, the cold snow melting against his warm skin. “Oh, you’ll pay for this one, (Y/L/N),” he called as you ran away from him with a giggle.

The memory made you smile, but was soon interrupted by the sound of pulsating music coming from what sounded like the common room. “What the hell?” you whisper to yourself as you slowly start to register the music as ABBA. “Good Godric,” you huff as you realize that Dancing Queen is the song being blared from the common room. You angrily slip on a pair of trainers before opening the door and making your way down the stairs. “Ever hear of the silencing spell?” you grumble.

As you descend the stairs, you start to call out, “Oi! Some people are trying to study! Would you knock it off?”

But as you reach the bottom of the stairs, you stop in your tracks as Fred stands in the middle of the common room, the boom box blaring ABBA, in his hands, a hand picked bouquet of the flowers from the courtyard. The same ones from the Yule Ball. Your eyes meet Fred’s as he turns off the boom box. “Fred,” you speak quietly.

“Hey,” he smiles at you. “I, um, I want to make a grand romantic gesture like they do in those muggle movies. I don’t know how successful the execution was. But it’s the thought that counts, right?” he gives a shaky laugh as you gulp, looking at him puzzled as to what this all was. Fred inhales shakily before speaking, “Angelina and I are over.” Your eyes widen and your heart stops. “Look, (Y/N). I haven’t been able to sleep since the Yule Ball. And I know that what I said to you that night was so uncalled for and so childish and stupid of me and I will forever be sorry for it. But what you said. About being hopelessly devoted to me. That keeps playing in my head on repeat.” You fold your arms across your chest and awkwardly shift your balance, trying to stay calm at his words. “And you said, since you can’t get over me, that I’ll have to do it. But truth is, (Y/N), there is no getting over you,” he sighs with a hopeful smile as you look up at him, heart beating against your rib cage. “I’m not letting go of you. I’m holding onto the very end of it all because you’re the one that I want. I want you and you only. And it took almost losing you to realize that. And I’m a dickhead for not realizing it earlier, but I’m just hoping that there is a part of you that still wants me,” he tells you as you look at his trembling hands, a small smile forming on your face.

You walk towards him slowly until you are face to face with Fred, looking into his worried, but hopeful eyes. You smile and pluck the bouquet from his hands as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Nice flowers, Weasley,” you tease him as he smiles.

Fred puts one hand on your hip, pulling you close to him as he cups your cheek with the other hand. “I’m not saying we need to dive into things right now, if you want to take things slowly, then I’m more than happy to do that,” he tells you as you sigh. “I want to prove to you that I will be completely devoted to you, angel. I want to prove that I’m not going anywhere. I can’t hide it anymore. I am devoted to you.”

A goofy grin appears on your face as you give into Fred’s touch with a sigh. “Freddie, I do want to take things one day at a time,” you tell him as he shakes his head, still overjoyed at the thought that you would still have him. A small giggle escapes your lips. “You are quite adorable when you’re excited,” you tell him as he rolls his eyes. “I’m out of my head for you, Weasley.”

Fred pulls you impossibly closer to him as he sighs, “I’m head over heels for you, my darling.” And slowly, Fred presses his lips against yours as you melt into his touch. For once, things felt right.

#Fred and George #fred weasley #Fred and Goerge Weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader imagine #fred weasley x muggle!reader #fred weasley x female reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut

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robinofinashiro · 3 years

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drabble: daiya boys getting jealous to you wearing another guys jersey !

characters: multiple characters x fem! reader

request status: OPENED / all fandoms pinned to the top of my blog as well as rules and req status! happy sending!

Miyuki Kazuya:

- mans so confused? why are you wearing Eijun’s jersey. he had specifically gotten you a jersey that had his number for you to wear and the fact that you were wearing his pitchers jersey was completely throwing him off. especially because it was a game day and you were helping the girls with their cheering today and he wanted you to be in his jersey while you did it.

- you were talking with Eijun and Nori, trying to get their pre-game jitters to settle the tf down. it didn’t even seem like you bothered by the fact that you wearing Eijun’s jersey and although Miyuki did not want to cause a scene, a part of him wanted a explanation.

- as he was about to walk to you for an explanation, you got dragged away by the girls as he was called onto the field. he saw you a bit later on the stands, you were talking with the girls, every so often, the in field camera would pan to you and show off you wearing Eijun’s jersey. his eye continuously twitched at it and it wasn’t until the end of the game when he finally got the chance to approach you about it.

- “why are you in his jersey?” he asked, lifting the jersey as if it was dirty. you laughed, sensing that he wanted you to take it off so you did, “i got Red Bull over the spare one you gave me and Eijun offered to take me to the locker room to get another one of yours but i guess i grabbed his spare by accident,” you laughed. Miyuki sighed understandingly but took his sweaty jersey off and putting it on you, “yours stinks you know,” you told him, giggling at his possessiveness, “i know but i’d rather you smell like dirty me than to have that idiot smelling line you.” you laughed, kissing his cheek as you heard a few of the girls call you over to catch dinner, “i’ll see you after dinner!” you screamed as he watched you, finally satisfied that you were wearing his jersey now.

kuramochi youichi:

- you thought you got off easy with miyuki? MANS WAS PISSED. you were adorning Shinji’s jersey when he had specifically given his to you. kuramochi walked up to you, seeing you talking to a few of your friends in front of your home room. he didn’t even ask, he practically dragged you over to a corner.

- “what up with the jersey?” he asked, pointing to Shinji’s number. you rolled your eyes, “um, this is the one you gave me? what the hell are you on?” you asked, trying to see the number. he shook his head, “the fuck it’s not. you’re wearing Shinji’s jersey!” he exclaimed, “take it off,” he stated, as he yanked your back pack off you and watched you annoyingly take it off.

- kuramochi looked at the time. you had about ten minutes before class started and that gave him enough time, “come with me,” he said, dragging you out of the hallway and basically darting to the boys baseball locker room. you were screaming at him, asking him where the hell he was dragging you off too. it wasn’t until you saw the boys locker room approaching when you finally realized.

- he told you to wait a second and not even a minute after, he walked out of the locker room, holding his jersey in his hand and throwing Shinji’s into the hallway, not caring where it landed. Mochi put it on for you, making sure his number was showing. you looked at him and saw a blush on his cheek, realizing that he was flustered by how you looked with his jersey on.

- you leaned up, giving him a kiss on the lips before smiling, “i like this one better,” you giggled. he gave you a hearty laugh, before returning the kiss, “you better because it’s mine,” he said in-between kisses. the kiss seemed to go on longer than you had realized as the two of you heard the two minute bell ring off, “race you to home room,” you told him as the two of you basically darted off to class.

Narumiya Mei:

- GODDD, you got the whiniest of the bunch, omfg. he sees you wearing Carlos’s jersey and he immediately starts getting dramatic. he complains to Itsuki about why aren’t you wearing his and when he finally approaches you, you could see the whiny look on his face, “why are you wearing Carlos’s jersey!” he said.

- “i decided to wear everyone’s jersey as a way to support the team as the manager,” you said, not bothering to play into his attitude. he could tell you were annoyed by his attitude and figured since you were being this way, two could play this game. he knew you found his fan girls annoying as FUCK so he went to the common area and immediately got flocked with attention.

- you had walked into that same area to get a water for yourself and saw the commotion around Narumiya. you saw the way girls were basically hanging off of him and realized this was his way of revenge for wearing Carlos’s jersey. you felt slightly annoyed, kinda jealous but knew the best way to get him back for it. and that way was to openly flirt with Carlos when he finally made his way to the dugout.

- once you got Carlos into the plan, he waited until Narumiya arrived to take his shirt off in front of you. you had seen this plenty of times before but acted ‘flustered’ to get a reaction from Narumiya...which is exactly what you got. you flustered expression around Carlos made Narumiya pissed as he saw Carlos basically laying it on thick. he was being extremely flirty around you and even wrapping his arm around you for a few seconds at a time until Narumiya finally had enough.

- he, without hesitation, took off his own playing jersey and yanked Carlos’s off, “wear it....now,” he stated, darkened jealous eyes showing. you had never expected his reaction from him before but giving yourself the benefit of the doubt, you slipped his on but still saw the expression written on his face, “we’ll deal with this later,” he murmured as crashed his lips onto yours, giving everyone in the dugout a free show. you were stunned with silence as Narumiya let you go and wiped away the lipstick you wearing in front of Carlos.

Sanada Shunpei:

- you were wearing Todoroki’s jersey and frankly, he was upset but not as much as he should’ve been bc i mean, it was Todoroki, you couldn’t get mad at that cinnamon roll for a long time. it was hard when Raichi was basically a walking two legged version of the sun but that was besides the point, he hated seeing you wearing another number that wasn’t his.

- you were talking to Todoroki, giving him a few tips on how to keep his bat in decent care when Sanada finally approached the two of you. he had a tight lipped smile as he sat next to you and putting his hand on your thigh and giving it a tight squeeze, causing you to squeal slightly in the process. Todoroki hadn’t noticed as he continued to blabber on about his precious bat.

- finally, his dad had called him over for something, causing Todoroki to run over there as Sanada looked down to you, “what up with Todoroki’s jersey?” he asked, making sure he emphasized his name. you shrugged, still smiling at him, “felt like supporting him,” you explained, “he’s like a little brother to me and i wanted to make sure he knew he had someone’s support on the stands.” Sanada’s heart fluttered, any sign of jealousy leaving his body as he heard what you were saying.

- he loved the fact that you were so sisterly to Raichi. there would be days where you would bring all three of you lunch on the field as you knew that if Raichi didn’t eat school lunch, he’d practically be running on a banana diet for the entirety of the day and you were not about to have that happening.

- you leaned up, giving him a quick peck on the lips, “don’t worry, the only other person’s jersey i would wear is yours,” you whispered into his ear, “and if you win today’s game, you can see me in just that and nothing else.” Sanada instantly perked up up, agreeing to what you were saying as he got dragged up from the bench by a few of his teammates.

hongou masamune:

- he’s seething and that doesn’t even begin to explain it. one of the first things he did as your bf was give you his jersey to make a statement that you were his and to back THE FUCK off and now here you were, wearing Renji’s jersey for some god awful reason. he knew Renji was his best friend but seeing you wearing Renji’s jersey just ticked him off more than usual.

- Hongou approached you, dragging you away from the team as you tugged yourself back, trying to get him to explain why tf you were getting dragged away from everyone. when he finally got you to himself, he didn’t even hesitate to yank off Renji’s jersey, “why?” was all he asked as you sighed in disbelief, “why am I wearing Renji’s jersey?” you asked as he nodded, “because i lost a bet with the fucking idiot and my punishment was to wear his jersey to a game.”

- Hongou didn’t really like the idea of this bet so he practically gripped his best friend’s jersey and took his off in the process, “you’re wearing mine and that’s final,” he stated, walking back to the loccker room to get his spare jersey from his stall. he shrugged his on as the two of you walked back to the team and he practically whipped Renji’s jersey back to him, “take yours back idiot,” he screamed to Renji making you laugh.

- you shrugged, not really knowing what to say to Renji as he was caught off guard, “told you he’d react that way!” you exclaimed, laughing now, “you act like you don’t know your own best friend,” Renji silently agreed knowing you were right. you saw Hongou on the field, practicing extra harsh as you silently apologized to the other team for the ass kicking they were about to receive bc of Hongou.

- you waved to Hongou throughout the game, whispering ‘i love you’s’ you him to try and get him to calm down but you knew that was no use. being Hongou’s gf meant that you were going to have to get used to dealing with his constant angry attitude and you knew that nine times out of ten, you were going to repay for your little bet with Renji bc of it. Hongou’s punishments on the other hand weren’t as bad as you liked to make it seem tho. you usually got some pretty good aftercare from him when it was all said and done.

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zarcake-writes · 3 years

Text

Berries and Cinnamon

I like Karl Heisenberg. And I was in the mood for something sweet, loving, and slightly sad. Enjoy!

The village is quiet as a bitter wind whistle past the rickety homes and down the muddy little side streets. Most of the houses are dark; only smoke rising from chimneys to show proof of inhabitance. The outline of Castle Dimitrescu is barely visible against the gloomy night sky.

Karl Heisenberg is alone on the muddy streets. The farm animals that usually roam the village during the day have retreated to the safety of their homes. While the cold weather keeps the villagers inside.

He curls his lip when he passes one of the houses. The smell of animals and wet hay is a scent he cannot grow accustomed to. Most of the village reeks; the stench of decaying wet wood and shit is so oppressive it clings to his coat. Personally, Karl finds the entire place to be an affront to his senses.

But worst is the people. Pious fools who consistently grovel and pray at the feet of Mother Miranda; yet cower in fear at the sight of the Lords.

Alcina revels in the fear. It feeds her massive fucking ego. Donna refuses to interact with any except for the few who work in her house. And Moreau is a disgusting freak whose only concern is the occasional validation that Mother Miranda may give. Karl, though, is not sure if he wants to be feared or validated.

A harsh wind blows past him, shaking the trees and nearly taking the hat off his head.

Snow is in the air. And with it, the promise of a harsh winter.

The human villagers have been in a panic about having enough food and supplies for the coming season. Karl has heard plenty of prayers, seen the offerings to Mother Miranda and the Lords in the tiny church. A few brave villagers even approached his factory at one point, asking for metal scrap.

Reluctantly, he gave them a few sheets of metal.

The humans of the village may fear the coming winter. In an attempt to survive, they give offerings to a Mother Miranda, a fake god. Their stoves are stacked with logs, and they cower under moth-bitten blankets hoping to see next spring. Karl does not share their fear.

He revels in the sensation of the cold slicing through his coat. Cold so sharp it reminds Karl of rust-coated metal. The frost-cold ground seeps through his mud-drenched boots. And as chilled wind bites his cheeks, Karl feels almost human.

Almost.

As Karl comes to the edge of the village that borders up to the forest, he stops. The woods are dark, and the path is barely visible through the overgrown brush and ever reaching trees. There are no lamps or torches to light the way. There is not even a sign. Yet, a trail of smoke rising above the trees comes from deeper within the forest.

He enters the dark forest. Immediately, his eyes adjust to the gloom. Similar to the village, the woods are quiet and cold. The trees creak in the wind as an owl screeches, causing every small creature to scuttle into the brush for safety.

Karl dislikes the forest almost as much as the village. There is not enough metal that sings for his touch. Not enough metal that is eager to bend beneath his command. The trees do not listen to him, roots do not break, and every fucking stone gets caught under the toe of his boot. The only good thing is the smell. But even then, the forest smells too pure. He feels like a trespasser.

The path ends in a small clearing with a small cabin in the center. It is surrounded by the remains of a wooden fence that fell to ruin long ago. A chicken coop is behind the house. Karl cannot stop himself from sneering at the smell of chicken shit. A small raised garden in the front of the house.

The cabin looks abandoned, but the black smoke climbing out of the chimney says otherwise.

Karl’s heart speeds up as he approaches the cabin. The stone pathway beneath his feet is new.

The metal lock on the door sings out to Karl. It would be easy for him to unlock the door using his powers, but he promised to stop doing that. The key in his pocket will do just fine.

Inside, the cabin is warm. The slow-burning fire in the fireplace casts the room in a golden light as shadows dance on the wall. The scent of mashed berries and cinnamon lingers in the air.

All the irritation and anger that was bubbling beneath Karl’s skin melts away. A single word comes to his mind: home.

The cabin is small but decorated by someone who loves their home. Pictures of people Karl does not know to hang on the walls. The faces are familiar, and he has heard their stories, but he cannot remember their names. Knick knacks and precious items linger in every part of the room.

On the opposite side of the room is a small makeshift kitchen area that is too small for one person. The stove is old and partially broken, but the sink and cabinets are new. A vase of flowers sits on the dining table. Next to the table are two chairs; one is partially pulled out, while the other is tucked away. A pang shoots through Karl when he notices the jacket and items piled on the unused chair.

A small couch sits in front of the fireplace. A blanket is lazily thrown over the back.

To his right is a partially opened bedroom door.

Karl shrugs off his coat and hangs it on the coat rack near the door. A familiar jacket is the only other coat hanging. His hat goes up next. And his boots are placed next to a pair of feminine boots.

The floorboards creak beneath Karl’s weight.

“Fuck, shut up,” he whispers.

The floorboards do not listen.

As Karl pushes open the bedroom door, the hinges squeak. He freezes, expecting the room’s occupant to wake up. But the room is quiet. And the form in the bed does not move. Behind him, the fire crackles.

The bedroom is small. The bed, which can barely fit two people, takes up most of the space. A pile of clothes lay on the floor near the foot of the bed. Paintings of the ocean and a field of flowers dot the walls. Karl has spent countless hours memorizing every swirl and color of the paintings.

Tucked into the bed is a woman. She’s buried beneath several layers of blankets. Karl can smell the lingering dust on them.

The mere glimpse of her makes his heart speed up, and his hands grow clammy.

For the longest time, Karl hated that she made him feel like a young man who has never been near a pretty girl. He hated the sweaty palms and word vomit he spluttered. He felt so weak that he decided to avoid her. But he couldn’t stay away for long, and he could not imagine chasing her off.

She shifts in bed but does not wake up.

Karl pulls off his shirt, tossing it into the pile near her bed. He winces at the noise his necklaces around his neck make. Even when set onto the bedside table, they still make a jingling noise. Even his belt clinks as he undoes it.

But still, the noises he seems to constantly make do not wake her. Karl is grateful.

Karl pulls the blanket back. She’s curled up on her side wearing a thread-worn nightgown. Carefully, Karl climbs into bed with her. He gets as close as he dares. The sweetness that clings to her skin is dizzying. He can't stop himself from reaching out and placing his arm on her waist.

She jolts at his touch and begins to move away. Karl hears her heartbeat speed up. He can smell the panic and fear already rising.

“Just me,” he rumbles in her ear.

She relaxes and leans into him. He feels the relief in her body.

“Karl,” she whispers.

He hums at the way she says his name. For the longest time, he detested his name. Karl. What the fuck is a Karl? Everyone else must agree that the name is terrible because no one calls him that, not even the family that Mother Miranda formed. Miranda herself hasn’t called him Karl since he was a child. For so long, he has been Lord Heisenberg.

But she calls him Karl. Karl. Karl. Karl. Karl. Whether she’s yelling at him, laughing with him, whispering to him in the darkness, or moaning his name with a reverence that should be saved for a church service, he loves how she says his name. He’s even begged her to never call him Lord Heisenberg, call him Karl. Only Karl. Karl. Karl.

“Karl?”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear me?”

“No.”

She rolls over in his arm to face him.

The orange glow of the fireplace slips through the cracked bedroom door, casting the faintest hint of light in the room. The curves and dips of her face are darkened, accentuating her features. The tip of her nose is highlighted, as is the plumpness of her cheeks. Her lips stand out the most. Karl has the urge to taste them, to taste her. But she can see the soft exhaustion in her eyes.

“I asked how your day was.”

It was shit, he thinks.

“Oh. It was fine,” he says.

Her eyes narrow. “Karl.”

He can’t keep her gaze. She knows him too well. Knows that when his jaw clenches, and he blinks twice that he is lying or avoiding the question.

But Karl can’t stop himself from lying to her about his day. He spent most of it with Mother Miranda and the other three Lords, so of course, it was a shit day. But he can’t tell her the truth because she will no doubt want to know why his day was shit. How can he tell her the religious leader of their village is a fucking cruel bitch? How would she react if he screamed about the other Lords? Moreau is fucking disgusting. And Angie is an annoying fucking freak. Not to mention the dick-cutting mega-bitch that is Alcina.

And worst is he can't explain to her that his shit interactions with the Lords and Mother Miranda were because of her.

All the Lords and most of the village know that Karl Heisenberg has a sweetheart he's trying to keep a secret. Angie asks irritating questions. Alcina gets this unhinged look in her eyes. While Mother Miranda is silent on the topic, but Heisenberg knows she is plotting something. He could see it with the slightest tilt of her head. The only one who doesn’t bother Karl is Moreau.

The sinister glint in Alcina’s eyes combined with Mother Miranda’s silence made Karl’s skin crawl. He knows they can hurt her, kill her, or experiment on her. Karl knows he needs to make some kind of claim on the woman in his arms before those two bitches can act.

Her hand cups his face, bringing Karl’s racing thoughts to a stop. He refuses to look at her. His face will reveal too much. She whispers his name, so soft and sweet, and he cannot refuse her anymore.

He meets her gaze, and she sees it all. The anger, hate, pain, and fear burned in him. But she does not push him away, only smiles and runs her thumb along his cheekbone. Her hands are gentle but worn from working in her garden behind the house.

“I will not pry for details, Karl. But you can be honest with me. I won’t judge you for having a bad day. We all have them.”

“I haven’t just had a bad day, sweetheart.” He clasps her hand that is still holding his cheek. “I’ve had a bad life.”

His voice cracks at the end. Body growing hot with embarrassment and fear of her judging him for the emotion that screams for release in his chest, Karl looks away. He cannot bear to see the rejection in her eyes.

But her silence is loud. Karl's ears begin to ring as his body grows hotter and hotter. He wants to scream for her to say something, anything. He wants her to push him away now for being a weak, broken man.

She does none of that. She sits up in bed, making sure to keep a hand on Karl, and readjusts her pillows. When she lays back down, she is sitting up. She smiles and opens her arms, welcoming him home.

Karl curls around her body, nuzzling his face into her chest. The tears in his eyes bleed onto her nightgown. If she feels the dampness grow on her chest or feel his trembling against her, she says nothing. She is silent as fingers moving gently against his skin. And slowly, the overwhelming emotion that nearly consumed Karl fizzles out until it is all gone.

“Your tits are soft,” he mumbles eventually.

She snorts. “Kind of like your gut.”

“Your tits aren’t hairy like my gut though.”

“And my tits are probably quieter. No grumbling from digestion.”

He hums in agreement. The only sound from her chest is the gentle beating of her heart.

“Go to sleep,” she whispers.

He opens his mouth to reply, but her fingers begin to move up and down his bareback. Nails that she keeps short and blunt leave soft trails along his back, taking care to ghost over the numerous scars. He can’t form a response, only hum at the sensation.

“Go to sleep, Karl,” she whispers again.

Her hands move up towards his head. She gently pulls at his hair, starting from the ends before pulling at the base of the strands. And with gentle fingers, she brushes through the knots in his hair, careful to not yank or hurt him.

Being in her arms is the closest thing Karl has ever been to having a home. Mother Miranda was no mother. And the other Lords are not his siblings. They are no family, just pawns that Mother Miranda will use as she pleases.

And used him she did. She took everything from him, turned him into a monster by making him perform terrible experiments. He’s numb to the monstrous things he has done and continues to do, that Karl does not feel human. Fuck, he hasn’t been human in so long.

But in this tiny cabin, in the arms of the woman he loves, Karl has a home and a family. And he feels human.

#karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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rowyn-writes · 3 years

Text

Cinnamon and Sugar

Chapter Three

Warnings: language, fluff, mentions of a toxic relationship, small angst

Characters: Dean, Reader, Benny Lafitte (mentioned only)

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Dean let you sit in his car until the rain let up a bit. "God, I hate the rain." He grumbled.

"I love it." You whisper, your eyes wandering the parking lot. "When I was younger, and there was a thunderstorm, me and my siblings would make a fort and huddle underneath it together. We loved it when the power would go out. We would light candles and grab flashlights and play board games in the dark. Sometimes Andrew would read to us. But uh - it would be scary stories," You smiled. "He would scare the ever living crap out of us. Lena and Josh would would cuddle into my side, no matter how much I hated it, they would still do it."

"You really love your siblings." Dean noted, swallowing hard, memories of Sam flooding his head.

"I do." You nodded. "They're all I have. Sure, I have my parents, but it's not the same, you know? Growing up, my siblings and I fought like dogs and cats, but we knew each other better than anyone, even our parents. Even when I go months without seeing them, when we all get together, it's like we're still little kids, ya know? We goof around, we argue, we joke. It's like none of us ever grew up."

Dean stayed silent for a moment, and you weren't sure if your message was getting across. "Look, I know we don't know each other very well, but what I'm trying to say is, call your brother. I don't know what happened between you two, but it's obvious that you love him. You shouldn't waste all your time worrying about whether you should contact him first or if he's angry with you. Time is a precious thing and people often waste it."

"Damn, you're wise." Dean gave a quiet chuckle. "But you're right. I will call him soon, I'm just not ready yet." And with that, the Impala was enveloped in silence again. That is, until Dean's stomach let out a loud rumble. "Sorry," He apologized with a sheepish grin.

"Don't worry about it." You shrugged. "It looks like the rains letting up. Do you want to come inside and I can fix you some food?"

"Oh, I don't want to impose." He shook his head.

"Nonsense. You gave me a ride home, this is the least I can do."

Dean silently debated whether or not he should take you up on the offer, but ultimately agreed, seeing as he was starving. By the time you were under cover, you were both soaked.

As soon as you opened the door to your apartment, you were met with a warm blast of heat. A pleasant shiver ran down your spine.

You began to click your tongue, calling out for your moody cat. "Storm, c'mere buddy." Your cat glared at you stubbornly from his place on the window seal. You rolled your eyes, slipping off your jacket and hanging it over the back of the chair.

"Sorry," You apologized to Dean. "My cat's being a little bitch." The man let out a laugh at your comment. "I gave him a bath and clipped his claws yesterday; now he's pissed at me."

"How in the hell do you cut a cat's nails?" He questioned, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Very carefully." You noticed that Dean was shivering. "Let me grab you a towel. I think I have some of my exes clothes. You're about the same size."

He was going to object when you silenced him with a look. You went to your room and began rummaging around in your draws, eventually finding a pair of black sweat pants and a grey hoodie.

"Try this," You said, handing Dean the clothes. "They should fit. You can change in the bathroom; it's the first door on the right."

While Dean went to change, you did the same. You exited your bedroom dressed in a pair of black leggings and a UK sweatshirt.

You noticed that Dean still wasn't out yet, so you went to start some food. You contemplated on what you should cook before ultimately deciding that mac and cheese would do. It was a comfort food, after all.

It would take a bit longer than usual, since you were making it from scratch, but Dean had said earlier that he had nowhere to be.

"Smells good in here." Dean noted when he walked out of the bathroom. Seeing him in Michael's clothes made your heart stop for a second, and not in a good way.

Dean and Michael had many similarities, the hair color, height, demeanor, etc. And you didn't want to be reminded of that man.

"Thanks," You said nonchalantly. "It's nothing special, but I thought you'd like it."

"So," Dean started, leaning against the counter. "This is a nice little set up you've got here."

"It's not much, but it's home." You shrugged as you stir the pot of noodles. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Storm sneaking around the corner of the kitchen, hoping for some food or a treat.

"How long have you lived here?" Dean asked.

"About five years." You informed him. "Ever since I turned eighteen I've been living on my own."

"How come?"

"You know the thing parents always say? 'As long as you live in my house, you follow my rules'? Well, I didn't like their rules so I got myself this apartment and I've lived here ever since."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, my old man was like that too. I actually did the same thing as you did. 'Cept I came back 'bout a week later." He laughed. "I was too dependent on my dad and brother. I have never lived alone before then; and to be honest, I hate living by myself. I still do."

"You never got roommates?"

"I had a few. There was Mick and Cas. Of course, I can't forget Benny." He grinned. "But they're all gone now."

"Benny?" You mumbled. "As in Benny Lafitte?"

"Yeah, why? You know him?"

"Do I?" You rolled your eyes. "That idiot's my cousin."

"Really?" Dean said excitedly. "I haven't heard from him in ages, how's he doing?"

"He's loving by the coast, and the last I heard, he met some girl named Andrea and he is head over heels in love."

"That's great." Dean smiled. "I really happy for him."

"Yeah, I expect to get an invitation to his wedding so enough. The way he talks about her, you would think he's known her his entire life."

"That's sweet. Benny seems like the guy that falls hard after one date."

"Oh yeah, he definitely is." You giggle. "He calls me after one date and says, 'Y/N, I think I'm in love. If I sent you a picture of a wedding ring, would you look at it and tell me what you think?'"

"No way!" Dean laughed.

"Yes! I had to talk him down from buying an engagement ring! I told him to wait for a year and a half, and then revisit the subject of marriage. Times almost up and he's still fawning over her. But I'm happy for him, he definitely deserves this."

You sprinkled bread crumbs on top of the Mac and cheese before popping it in the oven for a few minutes.

"You put break crumbs on your mac and cheese?" Dean questioned.

"You don't?"

"Never tried it." He shook his head.

"You caveman." You sighed. "I will just have to train you." Dean gave a harmonious laugh, which, in turn, made you laugh as well.

You grabbed a towel and pulled the mac and cheese out of the oven. You scooped some onto a plate and handed it to Dean. Both of you sat down at your small kitchen table and began to dig in.

"Oh my god." Dean said, his mouth full with food. "That is the best mac and cheese I've ever had."

"See? Told you it would be good."

"I'll never doubt you again." He mumbled as he shoveled more into his face.

You ate in a comfortable silence until there was a knock at your door. "I'll be right back." You told Dean as you opened the door.

"Mr. Pierce." You said nervously. "What can I help you with?" You knew what he wanted. And you sure as hell didn't have it.

"You're behind on rent, Y/N. I need the money, or I'll have no choice but to evict you." You felt your heart drop to your stomach.

"I-I don't have it right now. My hours have been cut and I-"

"I'm sorry, Y/N. You're a good girl, but I need someone who will lay rent on time every month. I really hate to do this, but I want you out in two weeks."

"I-It's okay, Mr. Pierce," You assured him shakily. "I understand." And with that, he was gone. You gave a shaky breath as you leaned on the door.

"Y/N?" Dean called, approaching the living room. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I will be." You nodded.

"What happened?" Dean questioned gently.

"I just got my eviction notice." You deadpanned. Dean's mouth popped open in shock. "I have to be out in two weeks."

"Crap, sweetheart. I'm sorry. What are you going to do?"

"Couch surf for a while, maybe? I know Jo will let me stay with her for a couple of days, but if her landlord catches me there, he'll throw her out too."

"What about your parents?"

You gave a cold laugh. "No, they'll never let me come home. I would stay with my older brother, but he's overseas right now. So honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do."

Dean stayed silent for a moment before speaking up. "You could come live with me." He suggested.

"Dean, I really appreciate the offer, but I can't impose on you like that."

"It's okay," He assured you. "I have an extra bedroom. And it's not imposing if I'm asking. Besides, like I said before, I hate living on my own."

"Dean, we barely know each other." You tried to reason.

"Hi, my name is Dean Winchester, I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women." You let out a loud laugh. "There, now you know more about me."

"Dean-"

"Just think about it. If you can't find anywhere else to live, my door's always open. I have to go, but here's my number," He said, writing down his phone number on a sticky note. "If you need anything, call me." Dean gave you a small smile before he walked out the door.

You flopped on the couch, staring up at ceiling. Storm jumped up on your chest, purring loudly. You gently scratched his back. "What should I do, Storm?" You asked. "Would you want to live wYou flopped on the couch, staring up at ceiling. Storm jumped up on your chest, purring loudly. You gently scratched his back. "What should I do, Storm?" You asked. "Would you want to live with Dean? You seemed to like him." Storm gave a tiny meow, his eyes closing shut. "Real big help there, buddy."ith Dean? You seemed to like him." Storm gave a tiny meow, his eyes closing shut. "Real big help there, buddy."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Tag List:

Cinnamon and Sugar Tags

@vicmc624 @lovememisha @supernatural-jackles @laycblack

Dean Tags:

@akshi8278

And if anyone else wants to be added to any tag list, let me know!

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lilolpotato · 4 years

Note

Can I request some dating headcanons for Hyakuzawa? Or if you don't do him then maybe Kyoutani ?? Thanks a lot 🤧💞💕

Ooo ok! I don’t know Hyakuzawa that well so I’ll do Kyoutani :) I promise to research Hyakuzawa!! Sorry! 💕

Kyoutani Kentarou Dating Headcannons

You didn’t even know he existed

You go to Aoba Johsai

You both have two completely different social circles

The first time you met, your friend dragged you to a volleyball game

You didn’t really understand volleyball so watching volleyball games wasn’t something you were interested in

You were pretty bored until you saw how cool Oikawa’s serve was

Then you noticed how there was some angry guy? who seemed like he was about to hurt someone?

But to you, he seemed friendly. You figured he just had a resting murderous face

You thought the way he played was so cool, with so much passion for the sport

You thought it was really admirable

You like making new friends and you’re a little bubbly and innocent cinnamon roll

You got a little lost and you tugged on his jacket, recognizing him from the game

The whole VBC thought Kyoutani would eat you or something

VERY concerned.

You held his jacket tearing up because you were panicking from losing your friend

He melted

“Um... what’s your name.” he said gruffly

Once you found your friend you gave him a hug and left

Consider the VBC shook

He was totally turning red as he scowled and walked away “Whatever.”

Imagine their surprise when a couple months later you’re dating

He’s so loving towards you

He sees kindness and innocence in you

You go on dates to the library where you sit in a little nook in the corner on his lap as you read a book and he presses kisses to your neck

You could be reading or watching ANYTHING and he’d still sit there calmly and content with having you to himself.

Bowling dates! He’s really bad at bowling and you mess around while playing

Doesn’t help that he’s really competitive

Whenever he gets frustrated he uses you as his ‘lucky charm’ and he wraps his arms around you to bowl

You twirl and throw the bowling ball while closing your eyes or something and it makes him even softer

If anyone else did that he’d be so pissed

Classic movie theater dates where you make out in the back corner

Hey, just because you’re ‘innocent’ doesn’t mean you can’t get some

You like cuddles? He will cuddle

He likes being the big spoon but when he’s upset he’s the little spoon for comfort

Likes to nuzzle his face in your hair and wrap his arms around your waist

Kisses are either hot or sweet, no in between

Sometimes they’re really soft pecks or barely there kisses, and butterfly kisses all over your neck

Other times it’s passionate and he’s kissing you so deeply and for so long you forget how to breathe

Fights don’t happen very often

If he’s in a relationship with you, you’re VERY important to him

He’s not gonna let just anyone be his beautiful significant other

You’re precious so he always keeps on mind to be grateful you’re with him

He’s not a simp bc he does keep his own needs in mind

If you treat him wrong for take him for granted he will tell you

Because he doesn’t talk much he will be straightforward

Lots of communication means fewer and smaller fights.

Usually he’ll leave after fighting for a walk

After fighting, no matter how small the fight is, he will always come back with a flower that he picked

It became a habit for him because he always loved putting them in your hair, he thinks you’re so innocent and delicate like a flower and he has to be careful with you so he doesn’t lose you

He finds them in someone’s lawn or for decoration, but nobody has the guts to stop him

Looks murderous and people part for him like the Red Sea

He comes back home and gives you the flower and you talk about what to change and what to take away from this

He might have a temper and be a quiet guy but he will fight for something he cares about

He’s pretty protective of you but is wary of smothering you

He always backs off when you tell him it’s too much

Knows your boundaries

Gets jealous so easily and will kiss you until you’re dizzy if he is ;)

Oikawa ships it really hard partly bc ‘Mad Dog’ plays volleyball better and consistently with you

Oikawa is the death of you

“MAD DOG THINKS THE WAY YOU CHEW IS KAWAII”

“MAD DOG THINKS THE WAY YOU LAUGH IS ADORABLE”

“SHUT UP SHITTYKAWA”

the last one was Iwaizumi

Grand King of exposing Kyoutani

You don’t even know how he knows what your bf thinks???

And you can confirm that Kentarou thinks this bc you asked

You love playing with his hair

It’s such a unique texture and he loves it too

literally growls in satisfaction

Can you say cute dog

He loves it when you call him Kentauro but won’t admit it

Tsundere without much tsun

You both love each other so much it hurts and everyone ships it bc y’all are so cute

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1025cherrystreet · 3 years

Text

New Home for the Holidays!

happy holidays! and merry christmas to whoever celebrates it!! <3

disclaimer: kinda scared ngl, this is my first piece of writing i’m putting on tumblr. i usually use wattpad (my username is the same it is here if you wanna follow me!), so i’m still learning how to do this lmao. hope you like it! any feedback is appreciated!!!

also... i didn’t really proofread this bc i got impatient and wanted to post it before christmas lol :)

warnings: none, just fluff ;)

gf!y/n spends christmas with harry and his family.

You hear the faint chime of the doorbell ringing from inside the house as you nervously pick at your fingers down at your side. Harry notices the small action, quickly taking your hand to intertwine with his, shooting you a small smile in hopes to calm your nerves.

And it does. For a moment. Until the door swings open and Anne appears on the other side. What finally does put your anxiety to rest is the big, warm hug she pulls you into, a splitting grin adorning her face. You chuckle in surprise (mostly at the fact she hugged you first and not her own son), but return the kind action, nonetheless.

"Oh my gosh! Y/N, my dear, you look gorgeous as always!" She says pulling back just enough to look at your face.

"Thank you! You're looking quite good yourself, Mrs. Twist." You return either a kind smile.

"Oh, none of that. I've told you before, call me Anne," She looks at you with a knowing and playful scowl, waving you off.

"Wow, hello to you too mum," Harry mutters from next to you, plastering a fake pout on his lips.

She softly scoffs, releasing her hold on you and moving to embrace her son.

"You look gorgeous too, Harry. Is that what you wanted to hear?" She jokes, the familiar smirk she holds reminds you of the one your boyfriend pulls so frequently.

When they release from their tight squeeze, Anne steps inside and holds the door open before speaking.

"Well... Don't want you two to freeze out there, come in! I was just fixing a cuppa,"

The warmth of her home heats your frozen fingertips as you enter and your glad to be out of the snow. You love the snow, but since growing up not experiencing it often where you lived makes it a little hard to bear in times like these. You couldn't remember many times you've had a white Christmas before (probably could count on one hand, if your honest), but you've always remembered them being the best ones.

You've always loved the holidays. You loved the cold weather and the time with family. You loved you're yearly family tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve night and taking a picture on the staircase in your childhood home the next morning. You loved making hot chocolate and watching you're family open the presents you got them.

You loved the holidays. But, what you love more than anything, is that this year you get to spend them with Harry.

You've been dating for two years now, but last Christmas, you spent it with your own family, as did he, because it was a bit too soon in y'all's relationship to make that step. However, this year Harry extended the invitation for you to join them and after talking with your parents (and your brother, albeit he didn't care one bit) you accepted the invite. Of course, not without making sure you wouldn't be imposing at all. And with Harry's reassuring words of, wouldn't have asked if we all didn't want you there, and besides, baby, it wouldn't be Christmas without all my loved ones, would it?, you started packing for London.

Harry shrugs off his coat as you both stand in the foyer and you follow suit as a voice shouts from the kitchen.

"Are they here?" A familiar sister calls out excitedly.

You and Harry enter the kitchen and he's immediately pulling Gemma into a bear hug. You look at the sight and smile fondly, noticing her boyfriend, Michal, behind them, but not before worrying for Gemma's breath support as Harry noticeably squeezes tighter.

They let go of each other and she playfully scowls at him, swatting his arm. To which Harry dramatically holds his arm, draining an, ow, that hurt!, receiving an eye roll from Gemma before Harry moves to greet Michal, and his stepdad, Robin.

"Hi, Y/N! It's so great to see you, feels like it's been ages," She greets you in turn, having enough of Harry's antics already. You return the greeting, along with the one to Michal and Robin, and before you know it, you're all deep into conversation.

Harry takes up spot right on your side like a leech. If you were being honest, it took you awhile to become accustomed and comfortable to how openly affectionate Harry is with you in front of his family and friends. At first, it was just small touches and light squeezes when the two of you would go out with Mitch and Sarah. The actions not bold enough for you to scold him, but just enough to make your cheeks turn pink. Not long after, the touches turned into sweet kisses to your cheek and draping a protective arm around you almost every time y'all went out. Which wasn't a problem until you realized how many stares your friends shot you when you started to get too comfortable in his warm embrace, most of the time opting to daze out in Harry's comfort than pay attention to conversation. So then, when the little affections turned into koala-esque cuddling into your side and planting heart-stopping kisses to your lips in front of Gemma and Anne this past summer, you decided to tell him to reign it back just a tad. It wasn't that you didn't like it! Quite the contrary, the sweet scent of his cologne that would flood your senses as he settled so close to you made your head fuzzy, and the pecks along your neck or on your hands or on your cheeks left you incapable of being present.

Of course, your loving boyfriend pouted a bit at the fact he claims, you don't want my kisses, but quickly got over it when you dropped to your knees before the boy to press kisses somewhere he couldn't complain about.

However, despite all of your protests to PDA, you can't help but relinquish your resolve as you melt into the couch with Harry between your legs, head resting on your tummy. The whole family (which includes you now!) is settled into their comfy spots in Anne's living room as Miracle on 34th Street plays on the TV, everyone having changed into their fuzziest Christmas pajamas. The realization when you saw Harry, Gem, and Anne had matching pajama bottoms made your heart grow tenfold and your eyes glaze over in complete fondness.

The smell of kettle corn popcorn (as Harry made it since he knows it's your favorite) and cinnamon candles fill the room. Anne and Robin are together on the couch perpendicular to yours against the wall opposite of you and Harry as the two of you are laid out taking up the whole space on y'all's blue sofa, while Gemma and Michal have cuddled up on the floor, sharing the big bean bag off to your left since they were the last ones to join the holiday movie marathon.

You love the dynamic of Harry's family. Much different than the chaotic mess of yours, and although you still love your family very much (despite their constant need to be obnoxiously loud for no reason whatsoever, fight over little things, and ignore each other on a daily basis), you admire how calm their presence is. You're family is just so... loud. And that's not necessarily a bad thing! The running joke of your family is that no one in it is capable of whispering...well, except you but you all blame it on the anxiety. But even so, your parents and brother have always argued. Over everything. Very rarely is it about something important, and seldom does it get out of control, but your family's way of showing affection is very...unique? Y'all aren't openly nice and polite all the time. As confusing as it might sound, y'all show your love in bickering. The love is more underlying than it is direct in show.

But that's why you can't get over how quiet this house is right now. Not one fight over someone breathing wrong has broke out and Harry and Gemma actually get along and enjoy each other's company. They're like... friends! The concept is crazy to you and you can't help but get just a tad bummed how your family doesn't just sit around all cuddled up, and how they'll get something for you while their up so you don't have to move from your comfy spot, or how Anne will just hug Harry out of nowhere. But the more you think about it, you realize that it's probably because Harry wasn't around much, always touring and traveling the world. He never got the time to playfully bicker with his family. So, as everyone is quiet in their comfort, you take it all in, happy that you're given the chance to experience their household dynamic.

Your fingers play with Harry's hair, running them through the long brown curls, still as wonderstruck at how soft his hair is as ever. Hearing him softly hum when you gently tug through a thicker curl.

"You're so effortlessly beautiful, ya know that?" You whisper to him, the sound of the movie, thankfully, covering you're affection from everyone else.

You can just spot the smitten little grin that grows on his face, and despite not having the angle to see, you just know his precious dimple is making a showcase right now...and that's enough to put a smile on your own face.

Instead of replying in words, he only turns his head to place a soft, melting kiss upon your thigh. Making heat surge through your entire body, in turn, making your heart warm at his love.

As y'all sit and watch the movie, you start to subconsciously braid your boyfriends hair. Starting by sectioning (albeit, a bit lazily) his hair into two big chunks, then separating three strands from the top of his head, you start braiding the pieces, adding a bit more hair as you go. He eventually caught on to what you were doing and you thought he was going to stop you, truthfully. But to your surprise, he only started rubbing gentle circles into your legs with his hands in a calming manner, causing you to release a content sigh.

When you get to the end, you tie off the finished braid with a hair tie from your wrist before moving to the other side of his sectioned head. It surprised you how long his braids are! They come down about a few inches below his chin, much longer than the only other time you had saw him in braids, which was when Lou did them right before he went on stage to perform. Now, your braiding skills aren't as refined as Lou's are, her skills making yours look rather sad, but you're having a blast doing it and that's all that matters. Not like he's going to go perform after this, right?

After securing the second braid in a hair tie, you lean forward and place a kiss to the top of Harry's head, causing him to tilt his head to look at you with a big smile on his pretty face.

Since you're sat up already and hovering over his face with him still in your lap, you press a quick, searing kiss to his lips, watching them curve into a splitting grin. You smile back at him, just admiring his features.

Despite being able to feel the loving stares from Gemma and Anne in the room, your focus is still on Harry.

“I love you,” He whispers, bringing a hand up to gently stroke your cheek.

“I love you too, bubs.” You return, because you do. You love him so much it hurts sometimes.

Looking at him now, surrounded by his family, you think you have never been so happy in your entire life. You’re so lucky to have him in your life, and you know he knows he’s lucky too.

But most of all, you’re so glad you decided to spend this Christmas with him.

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bungou-stray-dingus · 4 years

Text

Precious

Pairing : Ranpo x Fem!Reader

A/N : WE BACK AT IT WITH THE SUPER SAD SHIT AND BY WE I MEAN ME! ITS SAD TIME! BIG SAD TIME! Ranpo deserves betters, yes I know, but I just want to make him sad. I’m sorry <3

T/W : Pregnancy ; Murder ; Torture ; Kidnapping ; Blood ; Gore ; Angst

Angstember Day 11

Every day with Ranpo was the highlight of your life. He was sweeter than the candy he snacked on, he treated you like an absolute queen, and every queen needed her king and he was just that. He would do anything for you, he protected you with everything he had, he absolutely adored you. You worked at the Agency alongside him, an ability user yourself. You were able basically predict the future, but only ten seconds ahead. Everyone called you the Agency Forecaster, as you were able to tell them what someones next move will be, you were an asset to the Agency. When you got pregnant, Ranpo had wanted you to lay off Agency work, deeming it too dangerous for you and the baby, but you loved your job, you loved helping the Agency, and that would be your downfall.

Six months into your pregnancy and you were still able to conceal it well enough that everyone at the Agency had no clue. Your clothing was a little baggier but not by much, nothing that was noticeable by the members, and you had went from wearing heels to flats. The baby bump wasn’t much, and although it worried you in the beginning, the doctors had said that everyone’s body was different, and yours just decided to not show as much, but the baby was healthy and okay, and that’s all that mattered to you and Ranpo.

“I don’t know why you won’t tell anyone about him. Most people would be excited to announce their pregnancy.” Ranpo began the usual conversation that you always had over breakfast. He was always trying to talk you out of going into work, but you were persistent.

“Of course I’m excited, but you and I both know that if I tell them, they’ll ask me to sit out on cases. I love my job, and... they need me.” You explained, watching his reaction to what you said. He couldn’t argue with what you said, he never could. He knew how much everyone there needed you, but it still worried him. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, defeated by your logic. You reached across the table and grabbed his hand, brushing your thumb across his knuckles. “You know very well that my ability isn’t combative. I won’t get hurt.”

He nodded, but he still wasn’t comfortable, every second that you were in the office he was on edge. Every time you had to go out on a case, he was a nervous wreck. You always came back unscathed, unharmed, not a scratch on you. You were thoroughly protected at all times, you were just as important to the Agency as Yosano was. It wasn’t just you that he had to worry about now though, you had a child, his child.

Work started just like any other day. Ranpo and you walked into the office, hand in hand, his other hand was carrying a box of sweets to get him through the day. “Ah, Y/L/N! You, Atsushi, and I have a mission to go on today!” Dazai called from the other side of the office, waving to you as if his voice hadn’t gotten your attention enough. Ranpo’s hand squeezed yours tightly, he obviously wasn’t ready for you to go out so early in the day. He hadn’t had enough time to prepare himself to deal with the anxiety it caused.

“What kind of mission is it?” Ranpo asked, his hand no longer in yours, instead it was wrapped around your waist, pulling you to his desk so he could set down his sweets and sit comfortably with you next to him while he listened to Dazai explain the specifics.

“Oh, it’s just some crap with the Mafia. They want to talk about something, they wanted me to bring Atsushi, so I’m sure it’s something about handing him over or there will be a fight. Y/N will be able to let us know if they’re planning on something. Don’t worry though, everything will be fine.” Dazai said it so nonchalant, but Ranpo was losing it over just the thought of you being near anyone from the Port Mafia.

“I can do that. I’m sure everything will be fine.” You reassured Ranpo, turning to kiss his cheek. He had you sitting on his lap, and at this point, no one in the office was phased by you sitting there anymore. They would be more shocked if you weren’t sitting on his lap honestly.

He wrapped his arms tighter around you, hiding his face in your back. He mumbled against the back of your shirt, the vibrations from his voice and the warmth of his breath seeping through the fabric of your shirt sent shivers up your spine. “I don’t like this, cinnamon bun. It’s not safe.”

“We don’t have a lot of time. We have to get going.” Dazai said, noticing the way Ranpo held you tighter. “Y/N will be okay, Ranpo. Atsushi and I won’t let anything happen to her.” He walked over to pat Ranpo’s shoulder, you felt his breath hot against your skin again as he sighed, but his arms loosened from around you.

“Be careful.” He murmured, casually rubbing his hand over your stomach. The baby kicked against his touch causing you to giggle slightly. You leaned over to kiss him quickly before getting up from his lap, walking with Dazai and Atsushi out the office door.

The three of you got to the Mafia building, the boys both stared at you, their way of silently asking if anything was going to happen. You quickly shook your head no, giving them the nod that as of right now and ten seconds into the future, everything would be okay.

Dazai led the way in and you followed close behind while Atsushi stayed behind you. You felt safe with the two of them, knowing Atsushi’s ability and Dazai’s natural charm and the way he was able to sweet talk, you were sure that you were safe and you would be able to go back to the office and be with Ranpo rather quickly. Nothing would go wrong, at least, that’s what you thought.

The boys ran into the office, both their faces filled with worry and fear as their eyes scanned the office for Ranpo. He was already standing, staring at the door expectantly, waiting for you to walk in behind them. It took him a second to fully register the looks on their faces, that’s when his stomach sank and he had to fight the urge to puke right then and there.

“I’m sorry Ranpo-san.” Atsushi muttered, bowing in Ranpo’s direction. What did he mean sorry? Had something already happened to you? Were you dead? You couldn’t be, he couldn’t lose you and his son. That couldn’t be the case. You were still alive, he could still feel it, like your hearts were beating as one, and yours was still hammering in your chest. He still had time.

“You left her! Why would you leave her!?” Ranpo screamed, his voice reaching an octave unheard by anyone else in the room. They all turned to face him, his distress and obvious desperation all had them standing from their chairs.

“Ranpo, calm down. She’s fine. She’ll be fine.” Yosano attempted to reassure him, but he only shook his head, walking past her to stand in front of Dazai. His height didn’t deter Ranpo, instead he craned his neck, his emerald eyes meeting Dazais brown irises.

“You know I didn’t mean for anything to happen to her Ranpo. They took her while Atsushi and I were distracted. I didn’t think that it would turn to this.” Dazai pleaded with Ranpo, it was a first, his usual cocky attitude seemed to have disappeared under Ranpos glare.

“I told you not to take her. It’s too dangerous, and like always, I was right. Now, take me to her.” Ranpo ordered, but everyone’s attention was diverted when Fukuzawa stepped out into the main office.

“Everyone goes. We make sure to bring Y/N back safe.” His voice was powerful, almost hypnotic as he spoke. There would be no disapproval, no hesitation.

“Thank you, sir.” Ranpo bowed to the President before turning back to Dazai. “Lets go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat on the concrete floor, your back against the concrete wall. The entire room was bare aside from the shackles and chains hanging from the walls, the same shackles and chains that they had used to bound you there. You hadn’t struggled, you knew it wasn’t safe for you to do so. The baby hadn’t stopped moving since you had been captured, but you tried your best to hide it and not react to his movements.

“Your ability is far more useful than the were-tigers. They’re all foolish to not see that. I’ve only known of two other people with an ability like yours, they’re both dead, but not even they were able to see as far as you do.” Chuuya paced back and forth in front of you, his hands behind his back, he rarely ever looked at you, but when he did his eyes were like daggers. “Why waste such a useful ability on the Agency. You’d get paid well here.”

“It’s not about money. I want to help people. I want to save people. I don’t belong here.” You tried to speak calmly, you didn’t want him to know you were scared, it would only give him more power.

“That’s what I don’t understand about you and your people. You never actually save people. All the people you say you save, they’re already dead. Most of the time you can’t even bring those people justice without killing someone else in the process. The Agencies body count is higher than ours, but we’re the evil ones?” Chuuya knelt down in front of you, his face was smug, arrogant, his eyes squinted as he stared at you. “You’re no better than us, and we’re no more worse than you.”

You heard the voice of another man calling from down the stairs, the sounds of explosions going off over top of you. “What’s happening?” You asked, trying to pull your hands out of the shackles.

“Looks like the cavalry has arrived to try to save you. Don’t worry, they won’t get down here.” He patted your head before getting on his feet and walking towards the stairs. “Come down and watch her. If anyone gets through, you know what to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The group powered through the guards at the doors, Ranpo was flanked on all sides by everyone trying to get him through. Dazai knew exactly where you would be at, he was in charge of leading the way.

“I swear, Dazai, if she’s hurt...” Ranpo growled. No one had ever seen his so angry, so distraught. He rarely cried, and although he was doing his best to hide it at the moment, everyone could see how glossy his eyes were, he was holding it all in the best he could, but he was about to burst.

“She’ll be alright, Ranpo. You have to trust us, we’re gonna get her back.” Yosano murmured, her voice soft as she spoke to him. She only ever used that tone with him, it was almost motherly the way she tried to console him.

They moved deeper into the building, taking down everyone they came across. It was mainly guards at this point, everyone knew that they would be saving the worst for last. “Right over there! Come on!” Dazai called out, pointing to an elevator at the end of the hallway.

The group piled onto the elevator, Dazai pushed to button to take them down, knowing all too well where you were being kept. “This is too easy... They’re waiting for us, aren’t they?” Atsushi asked, but he knew the answer, just as everyone else did. They were all ready though, they would power through anyone to get to you.

“You all showed up, now that really is something. How much is she worth to you?” Chuuya asked sarcastically. He was leaning against the wall next to the stairs that led down to you, his arms folded across his chest. Hearing him say that made Ranpo want to charge, but he knew he had to hold back, just long enough to get down those stairs. You would be there waiting for him, he would save you, he would bring you back home where you belonged.

“The members of my Agency are priceless, not one is worth more than the other. We just want to bring her back safe. I’m sure you wouldn’t want any harm to come to the young woman.” Fukuzawa, always the peace keeper said, his voice calm as he eyed Chuuya. Everyone was on the ready though, ready to charge, ready to attack, ready to kill just to get to you.

Chuuya chuckled, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t harm her, of course not. I’m not that kind of person. There is however, one person here who could care less.” He turned to look at Dazai, one eyebrow raised, his fingers tapping against his arm. “You know who I’m talking about, don’t you?”

“Akutagawa...” Ranpo and Atsushi turned to Dazai as he said the name. Everyone knew who he was, and now they knew how much danger you were really in. “If anything happens to her-”

“Yeah, yeah. Spare me the speech. I’m not here to stop you. I’m here to watch him tear you all to shreds.” He moved away from the stairs, extending his arm down the staircase to let everyone through. “Have fun.”

Ranpo didn’t wait a second before pushing through everyone that had surrounded him, racing down the stairs. They all called after him, begging him to stop, but he didn’t listen, he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to pull you into his arms, he wanted to shield you, protect you with himself.

The second his feet hit the landing at the bottom of the stairs, Akutagawa had the chains undone, cutting through them effortlessly with Rashamon. You screamed at the sharp dark black masses that entangled you, pulling you up off the floor and close to Akutagawa. Ranpo didn’t move any closer, watching as a blade of the mass trailed across your torso, he watched your body quiver with fear as your eyes locked.

“A pitiful attempt of a rescue, honestly, I feel kind of bad. Of all the people to send down first, they send you?” Akutagawa almost growled with disgust, like he was disappointed in the lack of fighting that would ensue. “Although... I don’t feel quite that bad...” Akutagawa didn’t smile, there was no hint of malevolence, his face was as straight as ever as he plunged the blade of Rashamon through your chest.

Your scream was cut off almost instantly, the only sound was the gurgling of blood building up in your lungs as you attempted to breathe. It wasn’t enough though, it was never enough. The blade dragged down, the sound of skin and muscles being torn through filled Ranpos ears, as if the volume was turned up to the highest level. He watched on in both shock and horror as you were practically gutted right in front of him.

The blood pooled at his feet, there was so much, it splashed against the soles of his shoes as Akutagawa dropped your body to the ground. The other members of the Agency had been standing on the stairs behind Ranpo, they watched it happen just as he had. The anger that emanated from each and every one of them was palpable, it could have been cut with a knife, it was thick and it hung in the air like a storm cloud.

Akutagawa coughed, staring up at Dazai on the stairs. “I’ve done good, wouldn’t you think? Spare no one, show no mercy, just like you.” He rolled your body over with his shoe, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he looked down at your body. “Two for one.”

Ranpos eyes grazed over your abdomen that had been swollen with his growing son just this morning, now cut open, the torn muscles and tissues exposing your uterus that was also slashed open. He fell to the floor, his knees splashing the blood, droplets flying up and landing on his face, his shirt, his coat. He crawled over to where your body lay, he saw his son in your womb, small, not fully developed, but he had ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes, his nose like a button, perfect and round, curled up in a ball with his thumb in his mouth. He finally screamed, screeched, slamming his palms down into the pool of blood that surrounded him and you.

Akutagawa started walking away as Dazai, Kunikida, Tanizaki and Atsushi tried to pull Ranpo away from your body. He stopped on the stairs next to Fukuzawa, looking him in the eye as he spoke. “I’ll let Mori know to prepare for a fight.” He didn’t wait for Fukuzawa’s response before continuing up the stairs, a trail of bloody footsteps stained the floor where he walked.

“No! No no no no no!” Ranpo fought everyone off, pushing them away as he held onto your carcass. “I can’t leave them. I can’t! I won’t! Let me go!” His screams sounded more like cries. They were choppy, choked off, high pitched, the cries of a broken man, a man who had lost everything in one fell swoop. He had nothing, he was nothing if not with you. Life had gone dark for him, there was no light at the end of the tunnel, only darkness, a darkness that suffocated and blinded him. He would never escape the darkness that was now his life, it would only continue to consume him until he was just an image, no longer the man he used to be. He would never go back to being that man, not without you, not when you were the one who made him the man that he was.

198 notes · View notes

crystxlclear · 3 years

Text

sudden desire

chapter seven: mornings are for coffee and sexual tension

part eight of sudden desire

prologue / one / two / three / four / five / six / masterlist

synopsis: the morning after.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: the briefest and vaguest implications of sex (about as pg as it gets honestly), mutual pining (they’re oblivious idiots what do you expect from them at this point?), not beta’d

author’s note: i’ve not been in a good headspace lately and deleted my twitter app the other day to try and clear my head (✨a great move for someone who’s being crushed under crippling loneliness✨) so i feel like this really isn’t my best work, by a long shot, but writing this was the only thing that seemed to cheer me up, so we’re rolling with it! enough about me here’s the good stuff!

Some mornings beat her down. She’ll wake with a terrible wait on her chest and her head in a haze, and the day will stretch on in slow motion. Sadness and pain and upset stretching the hours for miles and miles. Those days, she hates to leave her bed. Her body feels too heavy to move from the mattress. But those days come far less frequent than they used to; every couple of months, when the rain lashes heavy against the window panes and the fog rolls over the river. Melancholia lingers like the smell after it rains and hoodies keep her together and the gazes away.

Others are rosy, honeysuckle sweet and tipped in golden sunshine. She’ll wake to the familiar smell of roses and fresh cotton, of cinnamon and citrus and the candles she’d burned the night before. She’s weightless as she rises, breezy dresses and peach lipgloss, and it’s like a never-ending summer, even when the weather turns frigid and she’s freezing in dresses made for the heat. Those mornings are mornings made for Marcus and syrupy sweet coffee in tiny coffee shops.

But some mornings exist alone; those mornings when anticipating hangs in the air, when change still has yet to set in. Mornings she doesn’t know how to feel when she wakes surrounded by her duvet. Mornings that can become the best or the worst of her life.

Mornings with Marcus over coffee in the sunshine are usually the best.

They’re filled with familiar laughter.

Coraline wakes to the sun streaming into her bedroom, bright, golden and insistent. The curtains are cracked open a little - disturbed and out-of-line, no longer drawn together like they had been when she’d fallen asleep - and the gap lets the warm morning sunlight in. A chill pulls through her; even as she tugs her duvet up underneath her chin for a moment. It’s thicker than it normally is, the weather proving to be much harsher than she’d ever anticipated it could be as Spring edges closer, and it’s even worse when she feels the bed beside her empty and cold. Coraline stretches an arm out over the sparse half of the bed, the sheets there cool, neat and frustratingly unoccupied.

Her heart sinks a little at the realisation.

Even if she isn’t entirely sure what she would have done if she’d woken up with Marcus by her side.

Marcus is a morning person, only allowing himself to sleep in on weekends . But Coraline is usually always the first one of them awake; the one who wakes him up with a text or coffee at his front door. He normally claims her to be ridiculously - and, she’s sure, annoyingly - springly in the early mornings, no matter what time she wakes, no matter how many hours of sleep she’s managed. It takes a while, and far too many cups of coffee, and she usually crashes in the late evening when things catch up on her with ferocity. She knows, this morning, Marcus has done the gentlemanly thing and left her to sleep in those precious few hours, before she has to wake up and head to the heavy load of interviews she has peppered throughout the day. But she really wishes he’d woken her, even just to say goodbye, before he’d left for work.

Coraline knows he’d never intended on staying the night. It wasn’t that kind of arrangement, they both knew that, but it had just happened. And, honestly, neither of them had been entirely made about it, either. He'd made a joke about how her bed was so much comfier than his and she’d giggled and yawned and tucked herself into the warmth of his side, without a second thought. Neither of them had complained about the closeness. Her eyes had grown heavy with sleep and her words quiet, and Marcus had traced patterns into her lower back until she’d fallen asleep a few moments later.

She digs a knuckled into her eyes to rub away the sleep that weighs down her eyelids and groans as she stretches out her aching limbs. Everything aches - even places she didn’t know could ache - especially her back as she lifts her head to glance over at the alarm clock. She’s utterly exhausted, the late night catching up with her, but she’s too worried she’s overslept to even think about going back to sleep. 8:04 blinks back at her in glaring white fluorescent.

Blinking up at the ceiling, laying flat on her aching back, blinking away the weariness that clouds her eyes, Coraline finally finds it within herself to climb out of bed. Some mornings, she can rarely leave the comfort of her blankets. The weight of something always seems to press down on her; sometimes, she doesn’t even know what that weight is. This morning is one of them. She groans when she stands and her feet touch the wooden floor. She stretches her limbs out, every joint in her body seeming to crack as she moves, and yawns so wide that she’s glad no one is around to see it. She’s sure she looks ridiculous on a morning - with wild hair and watery eyes and bright flushed cheeks - but, now, with no one around to see, she doesn’t care.

Coraline slips her glasses onto the bridge of her nose and shuffles her way out of the bedroom. Her father’s old Eagles shirt - the one she’d stolen from his drawers when she’d left for LA; the one that reminded her of her childhood and smelt so reminiscent of him - brushes the middle of her thighs as she moves. It was the first thing she’d grabbed the night before, still balled up at the foot of her bed.

She’s greeted by a sight she hadn’t expected to see when she steps into the kitchen.

The low, slow bubble of the coffee machine, followed by the rich smell of coffee beans. Marcus Pike stands, leant against the counter without a care in the world, with two mugs perched in front of him; one is Cora’s favourite — her Death Cab For Cutie mug — and the other is the old one with the chip in the rim Marcus had accidentally made when he visited her apartment the first time. She’d meant to throw it out, but it reminded her of him, and she’d always reach for her mug whenever he made coffee at hers.

She wishes she’d made an effort to make herself look presentable for him; he’s never seen her look so rough, and she hopes to god that her early morning appearance doesn’t scare him away. But it’s like she’s stepped into an entirely new world where it’s only the two of them left; no one else matters because they don’t exist. Coraline and Marcus are the only two people left in this world.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he calls cheerily at the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut behind her.

He doesn’t turn, just continues pushing the buttons on the coffee machine as he places her mug beneath, but she can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. She’s struck by how relaxed he looks. The whole sight seems familiar, somehow; he’s relaxed against the counter, his suit jacket and tie slung over the back of one of her chairs, and he’s humming some indiscernible tune quietly as she steps through the space.

“Good morning.” Coraline returns his greeting and leans her elbows against the island behind him. She watches him with a fond smile on her face. She can’t help it. Everything just seems gentle and wonderful, and she wouldn’t be against this becoming a weekly sight. But it wouldn’t - it couldn’t - and maybe that was for the best.

She’s staring.

She can’t help it. Her heart aches along with the rest of her body; she can feel it skipping in that awkward rhythm, fluttering like butterflies trapped between her ribs, along to the tune of the song he’s singing. A little out of tune but endearing, nonetheless. It’s a little embarrassing that she’s feeling this way over a friendship, of all things, and she knows better than to kindle that little fire within her that she knows will reach out and swallow her whole. She’s been burned by it in the past - so has he, more than she, unjustly and unfairly, and in ways no one should ever have to be burned - and maybe it’s better that they keep their distance from feelings that aren’t entirely platonic.

“I was going to wake you before I left,” Marcus calls back to her before he turns and offers her out the mug of coffee. “Didn’t seem right to leave without saying goodbye.” He leans back against the counter and he’s looking at her like he always does, like a best friend does, with a small smile and sparkling eyes and a friendly fondness that makes her feel appreciated each day. She’s glad last night hasn’t changed anything; if he’d been looking at her any differently, she thinks it might have broken her.

She’d expected things to be awkward and heavy. She’d fallen asleep hoping they wouldn’t, that things would be as normal as they are now, a repeated mantra in her head to remind herself that things don’t have to bear a terrible weight, but she’d expected inescapable tension in the air between them when they saw each other for the first time after what they’d done the night before. The terrible consequence of their agreement and how it would fall flat instantly when the realisation of their terrible idea sets in. Instead, the only thing that hangs between them is that easy informality that comes so easy to them, that her brother had joked about the night before. Maybe what they were doing was a terrible, ill-conceived idea - an idea that anyone else would think was utterly insane - but she’s glad it hasn’t tarnished the friendship that she holds so dear and is too scared to lose. Because he’s here, a gentle look on his face, making her coffee in her favourite mug. She doesn’t think she could ever get tired of seeing that damn smile. The smile that makes her feel so appreciated, so grounded, it’s so familiar and welcome and if she ever goes too long without seeing it she’s sure she would feel cold and brutally alone. He makes her feel at ease and, even despite her wild hair and sleep-kissed cheeks and the shirt that’s too baggy and slides off her shoulder, she doesn’t feel like so much of a mess. She’s forgotten the chill that had swept through her when her feet touched the freezing floorboards.

She’s staring at him again, staring like she’s trying to figure him out, a puzzle to her eyes, staring at the fond smile on his face that tugs gentle at his lips, and blinking back at him without a reply.

But his smile only grows at the sight of it.

“You didn’t have to make me coffee,” Coraline insists after a moment, placing the mug onto the kitchen island and letting her chin drop into her hands where they’re propped up against the counter. She tilts her head to the side when he grins and shrugs his shoulders. “I’m serious, you’re my guest. I should be the one making you coffee.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m a great friend.”

Friend. He really is a great friend.

Her best friend, the one person she really would dare to tell all her secrets to.

They’ve become so used to joking with each other, the lighthearted jabs and sarcastic comments, that it comes as second nature. But she still can’t help but roll her eyes as she chuckles and takes another sip of her coffee; it’s sweet and just how she likes it. She knows that an inevitable sugar crash will come in the late afternoon but it seems worth it.

Coraline runs her thumb around the rim of her mug idly, a distraction, she supposes. Manicured nails tinker against the cheap but long-loved ceramic. She’s half-sure Marcus is going to mention something about the night before — about what they did or what it meant to the feelings between them, or even when they were going to do … it again — but he never does. He just makes idle conversation from opposite her, too far away for her to touch but close enough for her to smell the lingering remnants of his cologne from the night before. It clings to the fabric of his shirt, to the curve of his neck. She’d recognise that smell a while away; sweet and strong and comforting, just like him.

“I should be heading back to my apartment,” Marcus announces suddenly. He places his empty mug into the sink and reaches for his jacket and tie.

Coraline can’t help but frown. “You’re not staying for breakfast?” She doesn’t know why she asks; not long ago, she’d accepted the fact that he’d left for work without waking her, now she wanted him to stay longer.

She thinks Marcus sighs, but it’s too quiet to hear, if he does. “As much as I would love that.” His eyes are soft - that surely unintentional puppy-dog look of apology that melts her heart and softens her soul - when he turns back to her, looping his tie around his neck. “I think people might notice if I show up in the same clothes as yesterday.” His shirt and jacket are wrinkled from where they lay on her bedroom floor all night. There’s an especially deep crease, stark grey against the crisp white fabric, that runs from the collar to the waistband of his pants.

Coraline sets her mug down and rounds the island towards Marcus. She smooths her hands down the creases in his shirt, trying to brush the wrinkles from his usually-pristine cotton before she bats his hands away from his tie. She can feel his gaze burning into the top of her head as she fiddles with the silken material, out-of-practice hands working the material like she does this everyday. She loves the simple domesticity of it all. It gives them both a moment to breathe.

“Cora-” His voice hangs low in his throat. “-what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

Marcus exhales deeply out of his nose and runs his hands up her arms. “You don’t have to,” he hums. “I can do it myself.”

“What can I say?” She smooths down the back of his collar and the knot of his tie. She tilts her head to look up at him. “I’m a great friend.”

She thinks for a moment he’s going to kiss her. There’s an unreadable look in his eyes; it’s intense and searching, and his brows are furrowed yet he’s smiling still. He holds her gaze for so long that she’s almost sure of it. That he’s going to kiss her despite their agreement that they’re just friends, nothing more and nothing less, and it’s still going to mean nothing because of the night before. Because they’re just friends and they know that.

But Coraline wouldn’t mind if he did kiss her.

“So handsome.” She smiles, after a moment of soft silence, patting his shoulders once she finishes knotting up his tie. So damn handsome it’s painful. The smile is sweet and saccharine, welcoming yet still dismissive of any romantic intentions. She really wouldn’t mind if he kissed her, but he can’t. She really wouldn’t mind if this was a daily thing, if every morning she could wake up to him and his gentle smiles, but she can’t. Coraline wonders if the timing was different - if they’d met some other time, some other place, before their heartbreaks or when the reluctance of moving on had waned - would it be more than a friendship? Cora knows that friendships like this are hard to find amongst the fickle fire of Hollywood relationships, and she’d be damned if she ever let him slip between her fingers.

She hears Marcus hum low in his throat when she turns to drop her empty mug into the sink. The water runs and the heater hums, and Coraline pays no mind to the way his gaze lingers.

Marcus watches her; even in her early morning muddle - shirt far too baggy, slipping from her shoulders, drowning her slightness in it’s black, worn material; hair a near-tangled beautiful mess, twisted against the nape of her neck and mussed up on the side where she’d curled up against his chest; rosy red cheeks, pink-flushed like the sky during the sunset; the smile on her lips, soft and lazy with sleep - he still think she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He’d let himself drown in her beauty if he could, if there weren’t a life-preserver of past holding him above the calming waves. His brain placates his desire in the form of a platonic friendship and he keeps her close enough to quell the unintentional desire. Marcus rushed in headfirst and headstrong; somehow, this ill-thought out arrangement makes more sense than figuring what exactly it is that lingers between them.

They assume it’s friendship. That makes the most sense.

But he’ll remember this when it’s over - when the sleepless nights and exhausted days come and there’s this small, delicate thing that relies on them both just to get by - because how could he ever forget. He’ll remember her kitchen in the soft morning sunlight as the sun continues to rise and spills through the window, mellow unlike he’d ever seen it before, and he’ll remember the feel of her warmth at her side as she sleeps. Every fleeting moment he spends with her - between work and happenstance and everything that keeps them mindlessly busy for weeks on end - feels like a lifetime of teenage summers when friendship and sunshine are the only things that matter.

“Thank you,” he hums again. He pulls on his shirt jacket; it’s wrinkled, like his shirt, from a night spent crumpled on the floor. He’s glad his apartment is within walking distance and he doesn’t have to take the Metro looking as disheveled as he does. Anyone awake enough would realise why he looks the way he does.

When she turns back to him, she’s smiling wider than before. The coffee has cut through the sleepy haze she’s worn since she’d woken and the Coraline he’s used to - the Coraline with the sunshine smile, golden and bright, and the enthusiasm that sparkles in her eyes - is back. Though he realises he’s just as fond as both versions of her: the drowsy woman in the morning light, blissful and comfortable when pulled from her dreams and the one who’s bright and vibrant and whose smile lights up his entire day.

Marcus mirrors her smile and leans over towards her. He kisses the corner of her mouth; so close, yet so far away. Her eyebrows pinch together at the feeling, the gentle brush of his plush lips over her skin, barely an inch touching the curve of her lips, but settle before he pulls back and notices the pull on her expression. “See you around, Sunshine.” He bids her farewell before he sweeps from her apartment and she’s left to sigh and slump back against the kitchen counter.

Damn that man and the effect he has on her.

taglist: @wheresthewater @ah-callie @its--fandom--darling

#marcus pike x fem!oc #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike #the mentalist #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x oc #sudden desire

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 3 years

Note

I saw that you included the belly kink in that fic you wrote, loved it by the way. Can we get some more of that? Including stuffed kohga if you're into that?? The man loves eating, after all

You're asking for Sooga's fantasy, is what you're saying. You're asking for EVERY yiga's fantasy, essentially. Let's go

"Is everything ready?"

"Just about! Keep stalling!"

Mipha motioned for Sooga to get back into the dining hall. It was THE Master’s birthday today, and Sooga was running around this way and that to make sure it was perfect. The champions were here, the princess, and of course, every member of the clan. Mipha and Link were currently cooking in the kitchen, working on his cake, all while Kohga was being entertained in the dining hall. One of the blade master’s, conveniently enough, was a former performer, and was doing a rather good job at entertaining his master. It WAS rather impressive, though Sooga wished he didn't have to doge during the fire swallowing trick. Nearly singed his hair. Kohga clapped as the blade master bowed, totally entertained.

"Did you SEE that?! He just swallowed a fucking FLAMEBLADE!"

"Swallowing IS my forté, Master Kohga."

Sooga shot him a warning glance at that flirt, and it took so much of him NOT to beat his ass. He cleared his throat as he knelt down to the birthday boy.

"Are you having fun so far, Master Kohga?"

"Loads. But it'd be better if you stopped running around and started celebrating WITH me.”

Kohga grabbed at his chin, pulling him closer, and for a moment, Sooga contemplated just cancelling everything, and kicking everyone out of the room. But Kohga was worth far more than that. He chuckled, lightly bonking his mask with his.

“I will, I swear. But you’d be disappointing everyone who worked so hard to celebrate your greatness. Plus scheduling this took almost a whole week.”

“Fuss fuss fuss, that’s all you do.”

Kohga scoffed, finally letting him go. He could tell that despite his disappointment, he found Sooga’s affections sweet. So much work has gone to make HIS day even more special. Kohga looked like he was going to complain some more, when suddenly, from out of the kitchen, came not only a few blade masters, but the champions, helping carry the BIGGEST cake you’ve ever seen. That caught Kohga’s attention, and he sat up in his seat, clapping wildly. It wasn’t JUST this beautiful cake being brought forth (heavy on the caramel icing), but all types of food that he LOVED, all in one table. Fried bananas, meat stews, tabantha bakes, all types of creamy, thick soups, bowls of tender, delicious meat, and all types of various rice dishes. Best part? Not a SINGLE fish dish in sight. Kohga looked nearly excited enough to jump out of his special birthday chair.

“Is THIS what you spent so long doing? Is this why you ‘forgot’ my breakfast this morning?”

“Perhaps. Please, eat as much as you please. I take it you’re ready for presents?”

“Yes! Gimme ALL of them!”

Little did Kohga know, he’d be getting a VERY special gift tonight, thanks to Sooga.

-------------------------------------------

“Today was the best day EVER!”

“I couldn’t tell, given how much you were laughing and hugging everyone. Even Revali.”

“Hey he’s not bad when he’s sloshed.”

Kohga chuckled once Sooga set him down, bringing in his new presents right after. Hair clips from Revali, a friendship bracelet from Mipha, a birthday crown from Zelda, monster rice balls from Link (he didn’t question it), hard liquor from Urbosa, and LOTS of goron spice from Daruk. It was sweet, all of it was. Sooga chuckled as he finished bringing everything in, watching as Kohga sat there comfortably, rubbing at his VERY full tummy. Sooga sat down next to him, kissing the top of his head.

“Perfect birthday?”

“Almost. I ate so much other food, I didn’t get to try the cake.”

“Oh! I saved you a slice, just in case. It’s over...here!”

Sooga dug into the pile of stuff, and pulled out a plate. It held the neatest, biggest piece of cake he could get. Kohga chuckled, leaning over to lightly shove his shoulder.

“You saved me a piece? Why did I expect anything else from someone like you?”

“I’ll take that as a complement. Here, I have a fork.”

Sooga sat back down, cake in his hand, when something in him..clicked. Maybe it was his Master being happy. Maybe it was the fact that he ate SO much food, so full of gluttony and greed. He was surprised anyone got any food to eat in his wake. And he saw it, in that big, full tummy of his. It looked even bigger, even grander than ever.

“Could I feed this to you?”

Why would he ask that? Why would ANYONE ask that? He was about to apologize, when Kohga chuckled, slightly shaking his head.

“I mean, sure. Less effort for me, why not? Long as I get my cake.”

Kohga lifted his mask up a bit, just for his mouth. Sooga froze for a moment as Kohga sat there, mouth open and expecting. He..shouldn’t keep him waiting, right? He nodded, grabbed a piece, and put it right in his Master’s soft, plush mouth. He licked the frosting off of his lips, nodding in approval.

“That is a VERY good cake right there. Nice and moist.”

“I..take all the food was to your liking?”

“Oh definitely. The chicken curry, salted greens, oh and the tabantha bakes! I LOVED the tabantha bakes!”

He kept feeding Kohga piece by piece, watching as his lips enjoyed bite after bite. Kohga...did eat a LOT tonight. So many plates of warm, hearty food.

“I could tell. You kept dunking them in the poultry pilaf.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I have no idea how many plates of those that I ate.”

“I’d be more concerned over how many bowls of rice and meat you ate.”

Kohga groaned, giving his stomach a nice, satisfied rub.

“Ugh that meat was SO good. The rice was nice and sticky, the meat was juicy, you could wring that shit out. Thank god you got that cake, I’m starting to get hungry again.”

Sooga nodded as he kept sitting there, putting more and more cake into his mouth. Kohga was ever so hungry. Big, beautiful body DID need so many calories to keep it running. Sooga eventually ran out of cake, and he found himself still glancing at his big, heavy tummy. Kohga saw there was no more cake, and pouted.

“Ugh. I kinda want more cake. You think I should fast after this?”

“No! Absolutely not. You eat until you feel satisfied, Kohga. If you want to eat, you want to eat. I can go into the kitchen, have them make you another cake. Maybe something else to eat?”

“I’d KILL for a mushroom omelette right now. But I don’t want you to leave.”

Sooga thought about getting Kohga’s food anyway, but he just. Kept looking at how Kohga kept massaging at his tummy. Clearly he needed his help.

“Then I shall stay. We can give you a nice, big breakfast in the morning instead.”

“Whatever keeps us both here.”

Kohga burped into his hand, and Sooga immediately felt awful. His poor master’s stomach was clearly in need of his comforting hand. He crawled up to him, suddenly finding both hands on his belly, rubbing it in small, slow circles.

“I’ll stay here as long as you need. You just relax, my Master.”

Kohga chuckled, looking as if he’d stop Sooga’s fussing, only to put his hands behind his head, and continue to let him. Kohga didn’t speak as Sooga tenderly massaged his belly, staring at it longingly. It was so big, so beautiful, so full of everything that was good in this world. Sooga was attracted to him for his hands, his voice, his confidence, but honestly? His belly was his favorite part of him. He could feel the softness under the yiga uniform, feel the warmth under his fingertips. It was so lovely, so precious, just the weight of it all.

“Jesus Sooga, you’re easy.”

“Pardon?”

Kohga used his head to motion downward. Sooga looked down, and found himself aroused. VERY aroused. He pulled his hands away, grabbing a pillow to cover himself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I didn’t say you had to stop, you know. Go on, do your thing. Don’t forget, you haven’t given me my birthday present yet~”

Sooga thought about refusing, but...well, he hadn’t gotten him a gift just yet. And he really, REALLY wanted this. He put the pillow back, and buried his face into Kohga’s stomach. One hand was used to grab and grope at his belly, the other was used to free his cock from his cloth confines. Kohga had such a big, wonderful tummy, he hated how absolutely hard it made him.

“I...really like your stomach, Master Kohga.”

“Ah ah ah. YOU’RE jerking off because of my stomach, on MY birthday. You call it ‘poochy tummy’ like a good boy.”

“Must I?”

“You wanna cum, then yes.”

Sooga groaned. He hated that everyone called it that, it was stupid, But, if that’s what it took, so be it.

“I...really like your poochy tummy. A lot. Especially after you eat. You look so full and content after you stuff yourself.”

Sooga was already panting, grip tight and slow on his cock, just how preferred it. It didn’t help that Kohga put his hand on his head, affectionately petting him like he was such a good boy.

“That why you offered to feed me cake?”

“...maybe.”

“Pfft. Pervert. But I like it, it’s cute, knowing your cock gets so hard for my full belly. You could totally feed me again, would you like that?”

Sooga’s whine was stifled by Kohga’s big tummy, but Kohga was taking that as a yes. Sooga was sitting here, pumping his cock because he wanted to make his big belly even fuller. Such a cute bottom. Sooga liked this so much, he was already feeling himself at the edge.

“Master Kohga, I don’t think I’m going to l-last much-”

“You gonna stay there, or you gonna get up here and cum on my poochy tummy?”

The idea excited Sooga so much, he practically leapt up to sit right on him. With a slow, tender hand, Sooga sat there, pumping his cock (and even rubbing his cock RIGHT on him, like a dream). Then he came. Ribbons of cum came from him, littering his big, soft tummy, it reminded him of a nice, fresh cinnamon roll. Sooga sat there for a moment, trying to take in the fact that his cock was sitting there, amongst his own cum, right on Kohga’s tummy. Kohga chuckled, giving a light shake of his head.

“You JUMPED for that, didn’t you big boy? Not that I mind, I wanted some more dessert.”

Kohga swiped his finger across Sooga’s head, and licked that bit of cum off his finger.

Kohga may be the gluttonous one, but Sooga was truly the one who was hungry.

#asks #lemon #kohga #sooga #listen sooga just has a feeding kink #it's not something kohga is into like sexually #but he loves sooga being excited #AND loves the idea of being hand fed #especially cake #Kohga loves some banana cake

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lia-jones · 3 years

Text

Growing Together - Chapter Twenty - The Green Eyed Monster

It was early dawn when we left the apartment, the cold breeze enough to jolt me awake from my remaining morning sleepiness. Loveland was still asleep, as it would be on a very early Saturday morning, and the only thing we could hear was the sound of our footsteps on the gravel… and my moaned complaints. I’m really not a morning person, and making me leave the warmth of my bed to face the frosty 6 am air without even letting me have my coffee first was pure torture. Needless to say, I was beyond moody.

It had been almost a month since Owen’s grandmother’s first and last contact with us, which meant that probably she took my words to heart and decided to leave us alone. Victor announced a week later that Daniel had been sentenced to 15 years of prison, and was waiting to be charged for other crimes, which meant he would probably never leave prison. All of the things that were taunting us were slowly but surely slipping away, and now we dared to take a deep breath of relief. Which led us to why we were getting up so early in the first place.

We were aware that things would become hectic pretty soon. LFG France was almost ready to make its official debut, which meant that Victor would have to make a long business trip to France in order to tie up the last loose ends, and we would be seeing much less of him in the upcoming weeks. With that in mind, my husband decided to treat the family with a comfort meal, and take the three of us on a small field trip: we were going to Loveland’s Farmer’s Market to get the best ingredients. Early. When it was freezing outside. This meal had better be worth it.

“Are you cold?” Victor wrapped his arm around me as we walked towards the market. “I told you to put on more clothes. It’s chilly early in the morning.”

I grunted in protest, but still leaned my nose on his chest, looking for warmth.

“I see what this is all about.” He let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, you’ll have your coffee soon enough.”

“I want a hot chocolate!” Owen chimed in, excited. “Do you think I can ask for marshmallows?”

“How are you so perky?” I squinted at my son, offended that he could be so alert while I was still trying to stave off sleep.

“Dad says that all the great chefs go at this hour, and they personally pick the ingredients.” Owen jumped as he explained. “Can you imagine meeting one of those top chefs that we see on TV?”

I grunted again, burying myself in Victor as much as I could. The only chef I wanted to meet was Pillow Boyardee, back in my bed, where it was still warm. But that was so far away that it felt like I had left it in another dimension.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Victor nudged me playfully, making me look at him. “We’re here. Do you want something else with your coffee?”

The scent of freshly ground beans hit my nostrils, awakening from my stupor. The Promised Land! Finally, I had arrived at a place where I could be happy: the coffee shop. Victor laughed again, as I promptly gave up his warm embrace for the promise of caffeine.

“Two coffees, one hot chocolate with marshmallows and three cinnamon rolls, please.” He asked the cashier, a perky brunette in her early twenties.

“Can I have the names to identify the beverages, please?” The cashier smiled widely at him.

“Coffee for Andrea and Victor, and hot chocolate for Owen.”

“Andrea, Owen and Victor…” The girl rolled her tongue weirdly as she pronounced Victor’s name. “You can have a seat anywhere, I’ll meet you there. After all, you are very hard to miss.” She gave him a sultry smile.

I blinked in confusion as Victor took mine and Owen’s hands, leading us to a table nearby.

“Is it just me or was that girl a little bit too friendly?” I asked as Victor pulled a chair for me to sit.

“What girl? The cashier?” He gave me a confused frown.

“You didn’t notice? I could swear she wa-”

“Here’s your coffee.” The cashier came with our order. “Strong and hot, just like you.” She winked at Victor.

I was so appalled I couldn’t even react. How dare she hit on my husband right in front of me?

“Careful, she said it’s hot.” Victor slid my coffee cup towards me, seemingly ignorant of what just happened.

“Ok, there is no way you didn’t see that.” I glared at him, only to have my glare returned with a confused look.

“See what?”

“Strong and hot, just like you.” I repeated her words with a nasal voice. “She was flirting!”

“You probably heard it wrong. I’m sure she didn’t say that.”

I felt my blood boil.

“So I’m hearing thin-”

“And even if she did, it would be useless. I’m happily married.” He said matter-of-factly. “Drink your coffee, you’ll feel better.”

The table fell silent. Victor was minding his phone while Owen was focused on blowing on his hot chocolate, poking the marshmallows with his little finger so they would melt a bit more. And I was steaming just as much as my coffee, but I kept quiet, not wanting to make a scene.

“What are we buying, Dad?” Owen broke the silence.

“I am glad you asked, my loyal esquire. This quest will not be an easy one.” Victor answered in all seriousness. “It is essential that today we make a meal fit for royalty, since our Queen is discontent.”

He was teasing me to make me laugh, and the sad part was, it was working. I took a sip of my coffee to hide my grin, but obviously he caught it and kept on playing, his tone even more exaggeratedly ceremonious than before.

“We start our perilous adventure fighting the most ruthless of adversaries: the butcher. We must obtain from his bloody hands the most precious cut of meat, the tenderloin.”

“We will go into the woods, holding our mighty swords, looking for the beast to hunt it down.” Owen continued, amused with the story.

“Or, in your father’s case, he’ll go into the market holding his mighty wallet.” I chimed in with a dry tone, although I was melting with how playful these two could be.

“The tool is irrelevant.” Victor smiled at me, sipping his drink. “All that matters is that I win the Queen’s heart.”

And just like that, Victor was making me giggle like a schoolgirl. He was good, I had to give him that.

“Why is there a number written under your cup?” Owen interrupted, frowning at the bottom of Victor’s cup.

“She wrote her number under your cup?” I looked at the paper cup like it was cursed.

“It's nothing.” He lifted his cup at an odd angle, so I wouldn’t see the bottom, drinking his coffee in one go. “Let's go. The market will get busy soon.” He declared as he crumpled the cup and promptly threw it away.

Somehow I managed to let myself be led out of that coffee shop without making a scene, but the truth was I was barely holding myself. Jealousy was churning inside me, and I wanted nothing more than to unleash all my anger. That girl had some nerve, hitting on a married man in front of his wife.

“You are surprisingly quiet.” Victor noticed. “Is this because of that woman?”

“No.” I pouted as I lied. Of course, he wouldn’t buy it.

“Why are you making such a fuss over this? I clearly have no intention to pursue any other romantic endeavors. You are too much trouble already.” He tickled my ribs, trying to get a smile out of me. He got an annoyed scoff instead.

“This doesn’t become you, you know.” He continued. “Jealousy is for insecure people with unfulfilling relationships.”

“I'm not jealous. I’m just annoyed that she flirted with you in front of me. What happened to sisters before misters?”

“I admit it was crass, but since when do you even pay attention to those things?"

“I don't.” I threw, wanting to close the topic. “It’s over, let’s move on.”

I could feel his eyes studying me and all my movements. When I turned to scold him, he was smiling mischievously.

“Well, I suppose you do have reasons to be cautious about other women.” He gave me a smug smile. “I am quite the catch.”

“Self-confident, are we?” I gave him a warning look.

“Rightfully so. You fell for my charms, didn’t you?”

“Ugh.” I walked faster, hoping he would just drop the subject. It was obvious he wouldn't.

“Admit it, I’m irresistible. You tell me yourself every day, I’m handsome, I have a promising career, I can cook…”

“You can be ridiculously annoying sometimes.” I added. “Like now.”

“They called me Loveland’s Most Eligible Bachelor, after all.” He continued, amused. “You can’t blame me for having all these women falling at my feet. Because, in all seriousness, who wouldn’t fall for this?” He pointed at himself like he was presenting an appliance in a game show.

“You're such an idiot." I shook my head.

“You're such a moron." He quipped.

It was true that there would always be some floozie flirting with Victor, he was indeed a remarkable man. But it was also true that, probably due to some lucky star, he only had eyes for me, and he showed me that every single day. Why was I letting such petty things get to me? The green-eyed monster was definitely not a good advisor, and I wasn’t going to let him ruin my day. Especially when I felt my husband’s hand hold mine, his fingers entwined with my own.

We finally stopped at the butcher’s door, Owen looking at it in amazement. He probably was expecting a violent man chopping off some animal’s head inside, and not the scrawny guy with a high-pitched voice that Victor called Clarence. Nonetheless, Victor looked at Owen with wide scared eyes.

“Do not look straight at him.” He warned, and I couldn’t help but laugh at Owen’s excited gasp. “His eyes feed on the souls of fools.”

“I am no fool!” Owen declared. “I will go prepared!”

Of course, he had nothing to prepare for, the butcher shop was as normal as any other, with burgers and meatballs on display, along with some other cuts of meat.

“Mr. Lee!” We heard Clarence’s high-pitched voice, very unlike someone who can eat your soul with his eyes. “Came to take your order?”

Victor was distracted for a few moments, staring at the door.

“Yes, my wife will take it for me. Here.” He quickly put some money on the counter, turning to me afterward. “Wait for me outside, me and Owen will be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“On another perilous mission.” He gave me a smug smile. “Don’t worry, Owen will swat away all the women that throw themselves at me. I will be safe.”

“Not as safe as you think.” I frowned.

I turned to face the counter again, part of me happy for seeing him in such a good mood, the other part a bit concerned that now that he knew I was jealous, he would be teasing me all day. I caught one of the workers watching our interaction, a large bag in her hands.

“Here’s your order.” She smiled. “May I interest you in anything else?”

“No need, thank you.” I smiled. “To be honest, I have no idea what he’s cooking.”

“Mr. Lee is cooking?” She sighed. “You are lucky. A good-looking husband that can cook? Most of us can only hope.”

I felt the green-eyed monster poking my shoulder.

“Don’t get too excited, he doesn’t cook that well.” I lied through my teeth. What was with Victor and women today? Jesus.

As agreed, I waited by the butcher’s door, holding a bag full of meat, wondering where the hell could the two men of my life be. I felt a hand on my shoulder and immediately turned around, expecting to see my husband’s smug smile again. I had a whole different thing coming.

“Andy?”

“Levi!” I threw myself into his arms for a big hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages, how are you?”

“Last time I saw you was when Victor had that accident. I never heard from you since.” His voice had a tinge of hurt. “I knew you moved from the guys that were taking your stuff from your apartment.”

“Oh God, yes.” I grimaced. “A lot has happened since.”

“Oh, I know. I saw your wedding on TV. You looked beautiful, by the way.” He gave me a sweet look. “And congratulations on your award. And for the new job position.”

“Thank you, like I said, I have been pretty busy.” I smiled, feeling awful. I had been a terrible friend. Levi was a very close friend before I met Victor, my greatest support when I was alone and had no one to help me, and I didn’t even invite him to my wedding. Even worse, I couldn’t find the time to make a call. All he knew from me, he had to learn from the media. “I’m sorry, I am a bad friend.”

“It’s alright, it’s never too late to catch… Oh, hi, Victor, how are you?”

Victor was standing right behind me, his earlier playfulness gone, a grim expression instead, eyeing Levi like he was one of the monsters he and Owen were supposed to be slaying. Levi extended his hand for Victor to shake. Victor shamelessly ignored it.

“Mom! Mom!” Owen pulled my arm, excited. “We got something for you!”

I looked back at Victor’s hands and spotted the bouquet of roses he was holding.

“You’re a mom?” Levi asked, seemingly incredulous.

“Oh yes, I am sorry.” I took my son’s hand. “Levi, this is Owen, my son. Owen, this is Levi, my friend. He used to teach me Krav Maga. It’s a martial art.”

“You taught my mother how to fight?” Owen’s interest in Levi peeked instantly. “Will you teach me too?”

“I sure will.” Levi nodded. “Ask your mom to bring you to the studio one of these days, we have a kids’ class you can attend.” He turned to me with a smile. “And maybe she will let me buy her some coffee, see if we can catch up on lost time.”

“I can’t really promise you that for now, I have been super busy with work. But text me the time, maybe I’ll ask our nanny to drive Owen.” I looked at my beautiful boy. “Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, I would love it! I want to be strong like Levi!” Owen turned to Victor. “Can I, Dad? Can I?”

“We’ll discuss it later.” Victor answered dryly. “Shall we?” He took my hand.

“Yes, we need to go. So nice to see you, Levi.” I let go of my husband’s hand to give Levi another tight hug.

“Don’t be a stranger, will you?” He ruffled my curls. “And no excuses, I want your sweet tushie in my studio for proper training!”

I had no time for Krav Maga, but the truth was, I did miss it. I had been so stressed the last few weeks, I definitely could use blowing off some steam. Owen definitely seemed excited about it.

“Mom, do you think he will teach me how to kick, like this?” He lifted his little leg haphazardly, kicking the air. “I bet he is super strong! I bet he can lift forty pounds!”

“Who cares if he can lift forty pounds?” Victor muttered. “Elephants can lift a lot more, they don’t waste their time bragging about it.”

“He didn’t brag about it, Owen was the one who mentioned it.” I pointed at the flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?”

“No.” Victor almost pouted, pulling the flowers to himself. “And you don’t need to defend Leonard. If he is so incredibly strong, he can defend himself.”

“Ok, number one, I wasn’t defending him, I was merely pointing out an inaccuracy.” I spoke gently, trying not to aggravate my already very aggravated husband.

“You’re an inaccuracy.” He childishly muttered, but I wouldn’t be deterred.

“Number two!” I called his attention again, holding up two fingers. “His name is Levi and you know it.”

“I do not have the time nor the interest to memorize Larry’s name.” He scoffed.

“Did you know that the elephant communicates with others by purring as cats do?” Owen chimed in, completely oblivious to the subject at hand. “And that they are the only mammal that can’t jump?”

“That does sound like Lenny.” Victor quipped. “Quick to purr, but slow on the jump. ”

I looked at my husband, reading his expression and posture as he stopped by one of the many colorful stalls to pick some vegetables. His eyes were focused on whatever produce he was handling, but his jaw told me he was churning over something else. He was jealous.

I observed him for a while longer, wondering if I should take this moment to my advantage and tease him as he teased me. The answer was pretty simple.

“Come on, Victor, are you jealous of Levi?” I joked. “You said it yourself, jealousy is for insecure people with unfulfilling relationships.”

“I am not jealous, why would I be jealous?” He frowned. “Because Lemur was flirting with you, despite the wedding ring you have on your finger? Maybe I’ll have to buy you a bigger diamond, or a traffic cone. Do you think he will see that?”

“Why would Mom wear a traffic cone?” Owen giggled, again completely unaware of our argument. “That’s ridiculous.”

Victor scoffed as he took the bags full of groceries from the vendor, and I prepared to deliver a final blow.

“Ok, I will let you have this one.” I threw my hands up in defeat. “You are right.”

“You don’t need to tell me, I know I am.”

“It’s just like you said earlier.” I gave him a cocky grin. “I can’t help being this irresistible.”

He paused to look at me, right before unlocking our car.

“So, that’s how you are going to play this.”

“Well, it’s not like I can turn it off.” I continued. “Of course I will have men throwing themselves at me.”

“Fine.” He declared before getting in the vehicle.

“I mean, I did get Loveland’s Most Eligible Bachelor to marry me, that has to count for something.” I stuck my tongue out to him.

“Can I drive us home in peace or do you want to cause an accident?” He glared at me before starting the car.

“Can you acknowledge your jealousy is just as ridiculous as mine?” I glared back.

“Shut up.” He pressed the Start button.

Victor seemed to be incredibly tense the whole ride, so I decided to leave things as they were. It was pointless to discuss things that would never happen anyway, we were both loyal, I knew that. And talking only seemed to make things worse, so the best thing to do was to hope that cooking would distract him, and eventually the green eyed monster would leave him as well.

Sadly, that was not the case. After I helped him put all the food away, I found him flattening the steaks with a hammer, his blows so hard he almost punched a hole in one of them.

“Victor, you’re hurting the food.”

“Do you think Lawrence would do a better job?”

Even though I knew it would only upset him more, I had to laugh. Victor’s commitment to not mentioning Levi’s name was truly commendable.

“Why are you laughing? Is my distress amusing to you?”

“I have to admit it is a bit amusing.” I came closer, running my hands through his chest. “Come on, let’s end this.”

“There is nothing to end.” He stiffened.

“You know, I’m an idiot.”

“I agree.”

“So are you!” I playfully smacked him on the chest. “We love each other. Why waste time with this?” I wrapped my arms around his neck, prompting him to come down for a kiss. Victor, however, stood tall, unwilling to give in.

“Come on, let me make it better.” I purred.

“I need to get lunch ready.”

I wasted no time. I grabbed his shoulders and basically jumped up, knowing he would catch me so I wouldn’t hurt myself. I wasn’t wrong. His arms wrapped around my waist out of instinct.

“Are you trying to get yourself hurt?” He scolded.

I kissed him, my tongue grazing his lips. He hardly resisted, deepening the kiss as he placed me on top of the kitchen island, so his hands would be free to roam my body.

“Now, doesn’t it feel better?”

“Not really. I burned my tongue drinking my coffee so fast.” He was still trying to appear upset, but his tone told me otherwise.

“So I wouldn’t see what she wrote?”

“So you wouldn’t get upset. I don’t want you to ever feel insecure about other women. There is no need for that.” He gave me an earnest look.

“Same goes for other men. I’m yours.”

“I guess we both are idiots.” Victor reached behind my back, presenting me with the bouquet he bought.

“Aw, Mr. Lee, those are for me?” I smelled the beautiful red buttons.

“They were always meant for you, and you know it.” He complained as he slowly pecked the tip of my nose, moving to my mouth, and then my neck, making me shiver with pleasure.

The sound of our doorbell echoed through the apartment.

“Are you expecting anyone?” I gave him a curious look.

Without a word, Victor walked to the hall. I followed him.

“Mr. Victor Lee and Mrs. Andrea Lee?” I heard a man ask.

“Yes?”

“You have been served.” The man handed Victor two envelopes, turning to leave.

Victor closed the door with a stern look and went to the study to find a letter opener. I found him wide-eyed, reading the contents of the envelopes.

“Pamela is suing for Owen’s custody.”

“What?” I took one of the letters from Victor’s hands to read. “She said she wouldn’t interfere in the adoption.”

“And you believed her? It’s irrelevant, either way. She won’t get him.” Victor declared, narrowing his eyes at the piece of paper. “He’s our son.”

Sometimes, jealousy -- or in Pamela’s case, greed -- gets the best of us. It tells us that we don’t deserve something, and urges us to do the craziest things to secure them. Crazy like throwing an irrational fit, or like removing a child from a safe loving place. Either way, at the end of the day, we all fall prey to the green-eyed monster.

#mlqc fanfic #mldd victor #mlqc victor #love and producer #mister love queens choice #mister love dream date #Growing Pains - Series #growingtogether #victor x oc #jealousvictor!#mlqc li zeyan

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