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letarasstuff · 3 years

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Where do you go?

(A/N): This is requested by an anon and based on this post.

Summary: How does Hotch’s daughter, who everyone goes to with their own problems, cope with her mother’s death two years later?

Warnings: Angst. Grief. Dealing with a loved one’s death

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

“Hey (Y/N), I really need your help with Tim. Do you have a minute for me?” (Y/N) turns around to see a boy from her science class. It’s not like she knows him that much, they occasionally team up for small projects, there is nothing more behind that.

“Uh of course. I just had my last class, so I got time for you.” She smiles and lets him, Vincent is his name she thinks, rant to her about how his boyfriend doesn’t understand his needs.

This is nothing out of the ordinary for her, to be asked for advice. She simply is a good listener and gives good tips, the best even according to people close to the teenager. The problem is her limited knowledge on relationships. “Coaches don’t play”, Hotch tells her. And he intends on keeping it that way.

“That does really suck. Did you try to talk to him about it?” (Y/N) asks the boy in front of her. Suddenly he bursts into tears, describing how he only sees breaking up as a solution. She awkwardly pats his back and says encouraging words to him. That he will make the right decision, that he shouldn’t rush it and that he has to take his time.

After Vincent, or is it Gordon, calms down he looks up at the girl. “Thank you for listening. You were a great help, (Y/N).” He hugs her and leaves.

As she looks over the parking lot she spots her father’s car. Excitedly (Y/N) walks over and gets onto the passenger seat. “Hey, I didn’t know you pick me up today”, she greets him.

“We finished the case early and I was on the way home and thought giving you a lift wouldn’t hurt. Who was that boy? Is there something I should know?” Hotch looks at her from the side. But his daughter shakes her head. “Don’t worry, he is gay. He just needed a shoulder to cry on about his ruined relationship.”

“You do know you are not the school’s therapist, don’t you? At this point your classmates should pay you.” He tries to joke about it, but as a father he is worried. Since Haley died, (Y/N) took it upon her to make sure everybody is happy, no matter at what costs.

“I know, Dad. I’m fine and Alex feels better.”

A few days later (Y/N) sits in JJ’s living room, watching the mother go from one place to the next. “Food is in the fridge, so help yourself. Henry’s bedtime is in half an hour, please make sure he goes to sleep by then. He should be easy to put down, Will made sure to tire him out earlier. All important numbers are on the fridge. Feel free to watch anything on the TV.”

The teenager volunteered to babysit Henry, giving his parents a child free evening. “Thank you, JJ. We will rock this, don’t we?” She looks down to the boy on her lap, who nods his head.

“Good. Behave for (Y/N), ok?” The mother gives her son a kiss on the head. After Will’s goodbye the couple is gone.

“Ok, how about we get real comfy on your bed and I read you a story?” Henry nods again. He takes (Y/N) by her hand to his room. As suggested they lay down on his bed.

“Which one do you want me to read to you?” But the boy looks unsure all of a sudden. “Can we just talk?” Surprised the teenager nods. “Whatever you like, champ.”

“Uh okay, do you know Mommy is a bit… much? She is like there and the next second she is here and then she isn’t here for days. I- this is sooo annoying”, Henry rants to her. He is only three, so it is kept rather simple.

“Oh man, she must be a handful, champ. But you have to keep in mind that she really loves you and in the end this is the only thing that matters. Do you love her, too?” It hurts her to talk about a mother’s love, since her own passed away over two years ago. (Y/N) still misses her. She is sure it will never go away.

“Of course I love her.” Sleepily Henry cuddles closer to (Y/N), holding his plush toy near him. After that, he falls asleep safe and sound. The teenager waits for a bit, watching him scrunching up his nose every few minutes.

The next day at the BAU a knock is heard on the Unit Chief’s door. “Come in!”

“Hey Dad, I thought a little visit wont hurt”, the daughter enters the room. Automatically a smile appears on Hotch’s face. “Also, I thought a little help from Spencer wont hurt, too”, she adds with a laugh. “Last time I checked he was in Garcia’s lair. You might have a shot finding him there”, he tips her off.

“Thank you Dad, you are the best!” Not long after this she steps into the Technical Analyst’s office and is immediately greeted by the preppy woman being anything but preppy.

“What in heaven’s name do they think I am, do you know it (Y/N)? They want me to work faster and more efficiently and expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows while looking at the most gruesome pictures ever taken on a daily basis! Un-be-lie-va-ble!” The blonde walks back and forth, gesticulating wildly.

The teenager takes her hands in an attempt to calm her down. “Sit down and tell me from the beginning what you are talking about.” This ends in Penelope raging about some superiors for an hour. When she finally calms down, it is like she wakes up. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to load all that up on you. You don’t need that in addition to-” She suddenly cuts herself off.

“I’m fine, really. It’ll be like any other day.” The smile the girl struggles to put on looks pained. “My sweet sweet summer child, the second anniversary of your mother’s death is not like any other day. You are still allowed to grief, you know that, right?” Penelope hugs (Y/N), cradling her close to her chest.

“I know, Penny. Thank you for reminding me. But I have to go, I need Spencer’s help with my chemistry assignment. You know, gotta keep those grades up.” With that she makes a beeline for the bullpen, leaving a stunned Technical Analyst by herself.

Since Foyet Hotch worries about his daughter. He learned many things about her coping mechanisms in the last two years: She tries to do it on her own.

In times like this the similarity between him and (Y/N) frustrates him. Aaron also tends to deal with his emotions alone, in the safe space of his own four walls. With all of his qualifications he knows it’s not healthy and he slowly learns to let his feelings loose around people he trusts, typically his team.

The difference between (Y/N) and Hotch is that he knows when he reaches his breaking point and she doesn’t about hers. So in a situation like right now being a profiler comes in handy with the job as a father.

It’s the day. The second anniversary of a mother’s death.

Hotch already planned the whole day for his two kids. At first he wakes both of them up, a luxus he seldom is able to indulge. But for today he has called into work saying he won't be coming any time before ten.

The mood around the house is suffocating. Even the little boy notices the heaviness of the day and its meaning.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)? I’m gonna drop you and Jack off at school!” Aaron shouts standing at the foot of the stairs. “I’m coming!” The answer is heard faintly.

Not long after this the Hotchner Household is on their way to the youngest’s elementary school. “Behave and remember: If you don’t feel fine it’s okay. Just tell your teachers and they will call me and I will get you, do you understand?” The father looks at his son with a certain seriousness. “Understood”, the blonde boy confirms and gives him a hug.

When he is back onto the driver’s seat, (Y/N) speaks up. “I don’t feel good about letting him to school today. What if he suddenly gets overwhelmed? I don’t think his teachers are able to calm him down.” Hotch gives his daughter a glance from the side. Jack never showed any signs of what she just described.

“They know to call me. I also told him it's all right to let them call me. He is in good hands.” It’s quiet for the next few minutes. “Dad, this is not the way to school”, the teenager tries to alert her father.

“I know. You won’t go today. I called you in sick when you were in the bathroom. I got the day planned, be ready to be surprised.”

The first thing they do is having breakfast in a little niché café. They once visited it regularly with Haley, way long before Jack was born. The two of them sit down at a booth in the corner.

“What can I get you two sweeties?” A waitress asks, her notebook ready in her hands. While the father orders their usuals, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander. So many memories at once crash onto her.

“Do you remember this one waiter, who always got you a hot cup of chocolate for free?” Aaron says after noticing her sad look. The girl begins to smile through the tears forming in her eyes. “Of course. Mom always got nearly a heart attack seeing me down it like it’s juice. I-” Her voice breaks. The tears fall down and make their way over her cheeks.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here. For anything you want or need me. Because nobody expects you to be alright, especially on this day.” He takes her hand and looks her in the eyes. (Y/N) nods, leaning against her father’s shoulder. He puts an arm on her, keeping her closer.

“I know. It’s just- It still hurts. So so badly. I feel like she still is here, but that’s just not true and that hurts me more.” Silently Hotch motions the waitress to make the order to go, while rubbing his child’s arm. Because that’s what she still is, a child.

A child that went through much, especially for her age. When (Y/N) calms down a little, they make their way back to the car.

“I thought we are going to the BAU to distract you for a while. But I can call the team and tell them we are going to do a SPA day at home or something. What do you want?”

“Can we go to them? And maybe leave earlier to do face masks at home before picking Jack up?” There is no way the father can say no to her puppy dog eyes. “Of course, Honey. Anything you want.”

As soon as the doors of the elevator open to floor six of the FBI building in Quantico, Penelope Garcia embraces (Y/N) in a big bear hug. “My sweet sweet summer child. You are so strong, I admire you. We are so happy to have you here” she whispers into the teenager's ear. “Thank you, Penny. Thank you so much.”

Over the course of the next few hours (Y/N) visits everyone’s desk. At first she goes into the lair, where mountains of cookies wait for her. Then she sits at Spencer’s desk, listening to cute facts about sloths. But Emily is quick to steal her from the genius, bribing the girl with new pictures of Sergio. Derek takes the teen from there, pushing her through the office on a desk chair with wheels. Her father is able to hear her laughs in his office, which puts a small smile on his face.

After that (Y/N) goes to JJ, who has a drawn picture from Henry for her. “Will had to write ‘best babysitter ever’ for him”, the blonde explains, pointing at the picture. The girl smiles. “Woah, I think you got a little Picasso at home. Tell him I love it.”

Her last stop is Rossi’s office. The older man looks at her with a fond smile. “Do you know that I see so much of your father and mother in you?” Confused, she glances at him.

“You are as stoic as Aaron. You are determined. But you are also caring and loving, like Haley. You are a perfect combination of both of them. Just keep that in your mind.”

As mysterious as this seems, it somehow makes (Y/N) happy. Happy to know a part of her mother is always with her.

Soon the little family departes for their home. Not long after they bid their goodbyes, Penelope receives a picture of the Unit Chief and the teenager with pink glitter masks. The father is willing to do anything to make her smile, even when this means he gets a basket of various masks the next day for teasingly reasons.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #bau x reader #bau x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #x reader #reader insert

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awritingtree · 3 years

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The Glistening Sun and The Glowing Moon

Remus Lupin x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: Remus Lupin has finally gotten a chance to spend time with his long-term crush but he messes up. Will she forgive him? Will he ever build up the courage to tell her how he feels?

@slytherinquill’s writing challenge: Prompt 16. ***A: *In a conversation with B* So… What do we do now?C: “In the other room* What did they say?!A: Stop eavesdropping if you’re not even going to be good at it!*** The prompts have been bolded :)

Someone please tell me if they know the new url because I never know when people change it

Words: ~3.3k

Warnings: scars, self-deprecation/hate, body issues, slight bullying about appearance, pining, fluff, tiny bit of angst,

A/N: so I tried my best with how having scars and everything feels. I’m posting after ages because I'm really busy studying for my med school exam and tbh I was lazy. But I finally posted!! I hope you enjoy this xx

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Remus Lupin often found himself pondering what he had done to receive a cruel fate. What had he been thinking when he fell for Y/N Y/L/N, the girl that brightly lit up every room she entered. The girl who was not only smart but kind and modest too, the girl who excelled in her lessons with hard work and perseverance. The girl that was so beautiful, she was a walking masterpiece.

They could not be more different. While Y/N spoke to almost everyone, had friends in every house, Remus could only call seven Gryffindors his friends.

Remus cowered in fear; made himself look much smaller than he is to hide away from the rest of the world. But Y/N Y/L/N; Y/N would walk around with her head held up high, wearing the scar that stretched from the beginning of her right eyebrow, down across her nose and cheek and to her left jaw proudly. Remus had always noticed her around, she was good friends with Lily but she had never interacted with any of the Marauders. Well not unless you count the times she'd tell them to be quiet when they were causing a ruckus during class.

Remus had spoken to Y/N once, on a complete accidental note. He’d heard her complaining to her friends about how she was nervous about the upcoming Potions assignment as they waited for Professor McGonagall to allow them into her classroom. He had blurted it out thoughtlessly like a complete and utter fool.

“I could tutor you!”

His eyes had widened, his face flushing as she turned around with a confused look on her face, wondering who’d spoken. When her Y/E/C eyes fell on his blushing face she’d smiled softly.

“Really?” she had asked with a hopeful glint in her eyes.

Remus’ hair had flopped everywhere as he had nodded vigorously, stuttering out a quiet yes. Her friends had giggled at his flustered behaviour causing his scarlet face to redden further. But Y/N, Y/N had taken no note of his embarrassing behaviour and thanked him for his offer saying she would talk to him soon. The hope in his chest had blossomed like a sunflower under the spring sun.

But that had been a week ago and Remus had not yet held one conversation with her. He’d often witnessed her walking around the corridors with her friends who seemed to always start giggling when he passed by them, probably laughing about their previous encounter, one he believed he had completely humiliated himself in. The only interaction Remus had with Y/N in the past week was the smiles they shared whenever they saw each other and so, his hope dwindled.

“Why don’t you just ask her out, Moony?”

Remus snapped out of his daydream at the sound of James’s voice. He blushed as Y/N sent him a smile, realizing he’d been caught staring. Sending a shy smile back he looked away.

He slammed his head against the wooden table groaning, “Kill me. Just kill me, Prongs.”

“I thought Padfoot was supposed to be the dramatic one,” Peter commented.

Remus lifted his head to send his friend a glare as Sirius exclaimed in protest.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Lily asked kindly.

Remus leaned against his arm, the heel of his palm tucked under his chin as his hazel eyes drifted back to the girl sitting on the Hufflepuff table.

“She’s just so beautiful, intelligent, kind and I’m just… me.”

He sighed, placing his hands on his laps and playing with them, his blond hair falling onto his forehead brushing against his eyelashes whenever he blinked. All his friends frowned at his insecure thoughts, they hated the way he saw himself. They desperately wished that their friend could see the way they saw him, the way everyone saw him, but himself.

“That’s not true-”

“Hello, Remus.”

Remus' head snapped up at the sound of the sweet voice, the voice that sounded like tiny bells chiming in the wind to his ears.

“Hi- hi. Hello Y/N.”

Y/N giggled slightly at his stuttering but in a manner that didn’t make him feel like she was laughing at him.

“I was wondering if it would be alright if we met up at the library today?”

Remus let out a sound, flabbergasted. Y/N’s eyes widened, quickly proceeding to justify her request.

“I mean you said you’d help me with the upcoming Potions assignment! I thought I would take you up on the offer,” she said in a hurry.

Remus stared at her in disbelief. Only when a sharp pain shot through his shin did he open his mouth.

“Oh um. Yes. Alright. Of course. Today. Library. Potions. No problem. Okay. Yes.”

Y/N relaxed, smiling at him gratefully.

“Thank you!” she said, bouncing slightly in place, “Is after classes alright?”

Remus mutely nodded, dumbfounded, his mind still processing what was happening.

“Great. See you then!” Y/N said before heading back to her group of friends who were watching the entire scene play out at the Hufflepuff table, walking with a newfound skip in her steps.

“You are pathetic,” said Sirius as he watched his friend slam his head back onto the table.

It would surely leave a mark based on how loud the smack sound was.

He had once again humiliated himself in front of Y/N and this time he believed there was no way to redeem himself. There was no chance in hell that she didn’t believe he was a complete moron.

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Remus had been hyping himself up the entire day, barely concentrating on any word that left his professors’ mouths. He spent the full day preparing himself to not make a fool out of himself again.

He took a deep breath and shook out the nerves from his body before walking into the library at the end of the day towards the table where Y/N was already sitting.

Her Y/H/C was pulled back into a low ponytail, a few stray strands framing her gorgeous face. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she scanned the book open in front of her. The scar on her face was light, standing out prominently under the bright sunlight streaming in through the window she was sitting next to. In her hands was a quill which she was twirling around absentmindedly as she looked for information in the pages before her.

Remus stood afar for a while, admiring her simplistic beauty, one that never once managed not to take his breath away.

He slowly strode up to the table once he realized he had been staring at her for an amount of time that was borderline creepy. He quietly placed his bag near the foot of his chair as he sat down on it, slouching.

Y/N jumped in her seat at the quiet greeting he whispered. Her startled Y/E/C eyes relaxed as they landed on his figure. She pushed a strand of hair out of her face.

“Sorry,” she muttered, “I was a bit startled.”

Remus smiled endearingly at the sight of her crimson cheeks, “It’s all right. I should’ve used a better method to make you aware of my presence rather than scaring you.”

Y/N quickly pulled out her Potions textbook from her bag, removing another spare piece of parchment along with it.

“So where shall we begin?” she asked with a small grin.

The two got to work; Remus explaining the assignment and what was required while Y/N sat and listened. The sky outside began to change colours, the blue fading into an ocean of orange, pink, purple and red. The sunlight switched from a bright to a deep shade of orange.

Y/N admired Remus’ face as the setting sun cast shadows on his features. His light brown hair resembled a golden halo at the top of his head in the sunshine. His green-coloured eyes mesmerized her; she had always loved the colour of his eyes. They reminded her of the vast forest standing out at the edge of Hogwarts, the luscious grass, the mint that gave her the morning mint tea. Remus held the colours of budding spring in his eyes; ever-young, bold and beautiful. Y/N’s eyes trailed the shape of Remus’ eyebrows, the sharpness of his rosy cheeks, the prominence of his jaw. She outlined the curves of his mouth, his tongue poking out every few minutes to wet his pink chapped lips.

“Hello? Y/N?” Y/N blinked, almost comically, as Remus’ deep voice brought her out of her daydream.

Her cheeks unwillingly burned under his stare, ashamed that she had been caught daydreaming about him, not that he knew that in particular.

“Yes, yes. Sorry,” she said.

Remus peered at her through his eyelashes, “It’s okay. I know it can get a bit boring.”

Y/N paid no mind to his words, frowning as she noticed his slouching body, trying to make himself appear shorter than he was. His head was hunched over, his neck never fully straight, concealing his face from the world.

Y/N ignored the worried look on Remus’ face and reached forward to brush the hair covering his dreamy eyes out of his forehead. His hair was soft just like she’d had dreamt it would be.

Remus stared at her, his lips slightly parted in shock. The feeling of her smooth hand running through his hair putting him in a daze. Her hand trailed the side of his face, stopping under his chin lifting his head to stand straight up. Remus’ eyes dropped to the chipped wood on the tabletop as she whispered a question.

“Why do you hide yourself?”

Before Remus could respond, a band of Slytherins passed by their table snickering.

One of the members spoke, “Look what we have here. The scarfaces are friends.”

The group burst out laughing. Y/N went to stand up, enraged and ready to give them a piece of his mind but a hand pulling her back down stopped her. She turned to look at Remus confused as to why he was stopping her.

“Leave it,” he whispered, “Reacting will only make it worse.”

The pit of snakes walked out of the library yelling out other taunts and not quietening down even as Madame Pince shushed them.

Y/N gazed at Remus who could not seem to meet her eyes. Upon hearing the rustling of papers, Remus looked up to see Y/N packing her bag, upset.

“Y/N, wait!”

“I’m sorry Remus. Thank you for your help but I need to go,” she said before hastily making her way out of the library without giving him a chance to reply. Remus watched Y/N’s retreating figure defeatedly until she disappeared. Remus sighed, burying his face into his hands.

‘Why can’t you do anything right?’ he scolded himself.

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Another week passed by. During this week, Remus did all he could to apologize to Y/N but she would not give him the time of the day. She avoided him like the plague; leaving the Great Hall when he entered, sitting as far away as possible in the lessons they shared, took different longer routes to her lessons through which she knew there would be no chance of bumping into him. She even went as far as spending all of her free time in the Hufflepuff common room, never once stepping foot into the library.

Others didn’t know why she was so upset. No one knew what it was like to live with such imperfections displayed on their face for all to see.

Y/N understood that Remus didn’t like others to see his scars but that did not mean she didn’t. She had worked so hard to build her confidence up to what it was. She had put a lot of effort into priding herself on how she looked, not to be ashamed. She had taught herself not to cower away from her reflection or due to the weight of others’ whispers and stares. So when Remus, the one person she had expected to understand, had stopped her from standing up for herself, for them, she felt hurt.

It may be an overreaction and Y/N should’ve forgiven Remus by now but when he had told her to sit back and quietly listen to the horrendous opinions others had about them, she felt annoyed, offended, hurt. But most importantly she felt disfigured.

Remus knew he had messed up. He had messed up big time. He had never been satisfied with how he looked, the scars marking his face making him feel ugly. But that was until he had seen Y/N in their second year. The Hufflepuff girl with a scar similar to his, who wore the scar like a brave warrior.

Remus had believed he was helping her when he’d stopped her from fighting with the Slytherins but it seemed he had made things much worse because by not speaking up against their vile words. He had in a way confirmed their words, confirmed that the scars were ugly, a thing to be ashamed of and disgusted by. He had unintentionally said that he believed their words to be true, that he thought he was hideous, that Y/N’s face was repulsive.

“Talk to her.”

“What the bloody hell do you think I’ve been trying to do this past week?” Remus asked, annoyed as he shoved another piece of chocolate into his mouth.

It was his third chocolate bar of the day and it was only noon.

“I mean corner her. Give her no means to escape then she’ll have to listen,” Sirius shrugged, moving about their shared room to fall face-first onto his bed.

“Bad move. She’ll hate you even more,” James said, his voice muffled by his pillow.

“What other option does he have left?” Peter spoke up as he ate yet another piece of cauldron cake.

“I should just leave her alone,” said Remus quietly, playing with a loose thread on his sweater, “It’s clear she wants nothing to do with me.”

He gazed at the thread for a bit, his mouth turned down.

“I think I’m going to go for a walk. Clear my head,” he said, getting up and leaving.

Sirius lifted his head from his head to look at his two best friends, “I think we know what to do boys.”

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After a long walk through the grounds of Hogwarts, Remus was making his way back to the Gryffindor common room, his head in a much better mindset than before. The corridor was surprisingly empty but he guessed everyone must be in their rooms, catching up on some much-needed sleep or doing the humongous pile of work they’d been assigned.

Remus paused and looked around the corridor thinking he had heard some footsteps. He shrugged and continued on his way when his eyes saw nothing but armours and portraits. Suddenly a push forced him into a classroom, the door locking behind him.

Remus stumbled before starting to bang on the door in a panic. “Hey! This is not funny! Open up!”

“Don’t bother,” a silky voice cut his shouting short, “I’ve been trying that for the past few minutes and no one is opening the door.”

Realization dawned on Remus. He turned around to face Y/N, a guilty look on his face, “I think I might know who is responsible.”

“Your friends. I know, it became obvious when you were shoved into the door.”

Remus smiled apologetically, “I’m sorry. I don't know what they were thinking. They shouldn’t have-”

“Remus,” she stopped his ramble, “It’s okay. I know you weren’t involved in whatever they planned.

“You never seem to be,” she shrugged.

Remus looked at her curiously, “What do you mean?”

Y/N looked down at the feet, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks as she realized what she seemed to have admitted.

“Your pranks. I’ve noticed you usually don’t participate in many of them.”

Remus raised his eyebrows at her confession, “Yo- you’ve noticed me?”

Y/N looked up and gazed into his eyes, “I’ve always noticed you.”

Remus gulped, lost on what to do next, “Why?”

Y/N smiled at Remus walking up to him.

To Remus, Y/N may glisten like the sun but to Y/N, Remus glowed. He glowed like the moon hanging in the night sky taking attention away from the billions of twinkling stars. He glowed to bring light on the darkest of nights.

Remus’s eyes closed in pleasure, suppressing a shiver as she traced his scars endearingly.

“Why?” she whispered.

Remus let out a shaky breath at her proximity, her breath fanning his lips.

“Because I find you to be exquisite, Remus Lupin.”

Remus gasped as Y/N’s lips touched his. His eyes fluttered shut as their lips moved against each other slowly and clumsily, testing the new waters they found themselves in.

Y/N pulled away and began to press soft kisses against his scars. In between each sentence she spoke, “You are intelligent. You are kind. You are caring. You are beautiful.”

She cupped his face in her hands looking directly into his teary eyes, trying to make him believe that she meant every single word that fell from her lips from the bottom of her heart, “You are perfect Remus.”

Remus pressed his lips firmly against Y/N’s, encircling an arm around her waist bringing her closer as his other hand cupped her face and tilted it allowing him to deepen the kiss. Y/N’s hands left Remus’ face and buried themselves in his hair, tugging at it. Their lips moved passionately against each other, their senses overwhelmed with the amount of serotonin coursing through their veins.

They pulled away from each other with giddy smiles on their faces. Remus tucked her hair behind her ear before trailing down to admire the crescent moon necklace that hung around her neck, the metal cold against his warm fingertips.

“So... what do we do now?” Remus asked insecurely.

Y/N was stopped from answering at the sounds of rustling and whispering, “What did they say!?”

Remus sighed in exasperation before shouting, “Stop eavesdropping if you’re not even going to be good at it!”

A thump of a body falling against the floor and a few curses later, the sound of receding footsteps echoed through the otherwise empty corridor and classroom.

Remus smiled lovingly at the sight of Y/N trying to hush her giggles by covering her mouth.

“I’m sorry about them,” said Remus after her giggling died out.

“They are not much different from my friends,” Y/N reassured him, “They were chaperoning our study date last week. I’m surprised you didn’t notice them.”

“Study date, huh?” Remus questioned with a smirk.

“Well yeah,” Y/N shrugged, looking at her hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of Remus’ sweater, “At least I hoped it was.”

Remus chuckled, glad to not be the one who was flustered for once. He placed two fingers below Y/N’s chin to lift her gaze to his.

“Actually, I was hoping I could take you out on a proper first date tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? But it’s a-”

“Sunday, yes. But my plans don’t involve Hogsmeade.”

“That’s only if you have the time. If you want to,” Remus quickly added, hoping it didn’t look like he was forcing her into anything.

Y/N smiled lovingly, “I would love to.”

In Y/N’s opinion, the consequent radiant smile that overtook Remus’ face outshone the sun, moon and stars combined.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

If you enjoyed reading this fic, please like/comment/reblog! Your opinion/feedback is welcome, appreciated, and motivating :)

General taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @pregnant-piggy @approved-by-dentists @remmyswritings @angelxnaa @outer-banks-bitches @coffee--writes @kinkyduuh @ickle-ronniekins @the-mighty-bookworm @chaoticgirl04 @malfoyspogue @dracofeltonmalfoy @dracosmainhoe @tinylumpiaa @natasha-romancff @theweasleysredhair @pandaxnienke @george-fabian-weasley @sarcasticallywitty15 @amourtentiaa @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

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redgillan · 4 years

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Under Pastel Skies - 8

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 3,734

Warnings: none

A/N: If this chapter had a name it would be “me, you, and steve’. Also I know how infuriating they are, so oblivious and dumb but isn’t it the point of pining ;) Thanks for your patience!

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

Bucky’s cab pulled over to the curb in front of his building. He tugged on the lapels of his coat, pulling it tighter around him, and braced himself for the blast of cold air waiting for him on the other side.

He hated the cold, hated winter. It reminded him of the day he lost his arm, alone on that godforsaken mountain until Steve found him. But he could deal with the cold if it meant he’d find you on the other side of that door.

He knew you were home, you had texted him about an hour ago telling him that you had a surprise for him. It had made him smile. He’d hurried home, desperate to see you even though he’d seen you that morning.

He had it bad.

He’d been restless since the gala, unable to sleep without dreaming of you, your velvet dress in a heap on his bedroom floor, your scent lingering on his bed sheets. He would wake up bathed in sweat, on the edge of coming.

He would deal with it with an ice cold shower.

Bucky had accepted the fact that his feelings for you weren’t as innocent as they once were. He had always thought you were strong, full of life and a little awkward, but lately he’d been wanting to kiss you, touch you, feel your warmth against him.

He wanted it so badly it hurt.

He wouldn’t say he loved you. He certainly felt something for you but love was something foreign to him. Sometimes he wondered if his feelings were even real. He’d gone from living an extremely solitary life to spending every single day with you. It could have easily been a product of his loneliness and your soft spoken demeanour.

He had stopped counting the number of times he’d almost kissed you on the lips. The urge was always there, eating away at him, but he always caught himself at the last moment, his lips landing on your forehead, your cheek or your temple instead.

“I’m home,” he shouted, closing the door behind him. He bent to untie his shoes and kicked them off while he unzipped his coat. “What’s the big surprise? Is it something we can eat?”

He hung his coat next to yours on the hook and walked down the short corridor that led to the kitchen. As he walked, he became suspicious of the silence that hung in the air. Slowly he peeked into the kitchen and found you in the company of someone he thought he’d never see again.

“Steve?”

“Not edible, sorry, Buck.”

Bucky’s face broke out into an instant smile, ear to ear and ecstatic. “Fuckin’ hell, Rogers, you look like a yeti.”

Steve barked out a laugh as he stepped forward and hugged him. He wrapped both his arms around Bucky, almost lifting him off the ground despite knowing how uncomfortable hugs made him feel. Chuckling, Bucky returned his hug with one arm; the only kind of hug he could give.

“I’m happy to see you.” Steve pulled back and held him at arm's length.

Bucky looked over Steve’s shoulder at you who were standing behind the kitchen counter, grinning at them. “Is that my surprise?” You nodded. “Ugh, I was kind of hoping for pizza honestly.”

“Asshole.”

“I’m joking, man.”

Steve returned to his seat and Bucky followed. You grabbed a mug from the cupboard and fixed Bucky a cup of coffee. He gave you a grateful smile.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with this punk on your own,” Bucky told you. “Did he give you a hard time?”

“Nah,” you said. “He was pretty sheepish. Also, I almost gave him a heart attack.”

Bucky burst out laughing as Steve’s face and neck flushed red. You told Bucky the story of how you and Steve met outside his apartment building. Bucky doubled over laughing when you made a pretty spot-on impression of Steve’s confused face. Steve rolled his eyes at your theatrics, a smile on his lips.

“In my defense, no stranger has ever screamed my name like that.”

“Oh, if the alley behind the church could talk, it’d call you a fucking liar, Steve.”

“First, shut up!” Steve jokingly pushed Bucky off his seat. “Second, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” That sobered you both up faster than a cold shower. Steve caught a furtive sideways glance between you and Bucky. “Did I say something wrong?”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you replied with a smile. “I’m his, uh-” you trailed off and looked to Bucky for help but he was unable to speak. “I’m his roommate.”

“Oooh! Okay.”

Was that relief on Steve’s face? Bucky’s stare hardened. A muscle in his jaw jumped when Steve engaged you in a conversation. He asked you how long you’d been living with Bucky and if you liked the apartment. His tone was conversational but Bucky knew him like the back of his hand, he knew Steve was flirting with you.

“Are you staying for dinner?” you asked Steve. Bucky’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. You picked up the laminated meal plan from on the counter. “Creamed spinach and baked eggs.”

“Sounds great,” Steve agreed.

“You don’t like spinach,” Bucky grumbled under his breath.

“I’m not twelve anymore,” Steve countered with an arched brow. It made you laugh. “Besides I haven’t eaten a homemade meal in... wow, probably years.” Steve turned to you. “I don’t know if Bucky told you but I’m a landscape photographer. I live in the wild most of the year. It’s kinda like travelling by foot on an endless backpacking trip. It’s amazing but the food is disgusting.”

“Yikes!” You grimaced in sympathy. “Well, Bucky’s an amazing chef. I keep telling him we should open a restaurant together.”

You walked over to Steve and mock-whispered in his ear. “If we ask nicely, he’ll probably make us some garlic bread.”

That made Bucky smile. His first instinct was to answer with his usual ‘I’d do anything for you, angel’ but he couldn’t say that in front of Steve so he bit his tongue. He saw the disappointment in your eyes, as if you were expecting that usual answer too.

“I should go upstairs,” you said. “I have a painting to finish. Have fun, boys.”

Steve watched you go, then he shook his head and heaved out a sigh. He waited until he was sure you were out of earshot before he turned to Bucky.

“She’s quite something, isn’t she?” he said. “So, are you two...”

“We’re friends,” Bucky said.

Steve nodded. “Is she single?”

“As far as I know.”

Bucky’s jaw was clenched hard, the tendons in his neck looked like they were about to snap. He loved Steve like a brother but, goddammit, he wanted him to leave and never return. He balled his hand into a fist, feeling a visceral urge to punch something.

Yet, Steve seemed completely oblivious to Bucky’s turmoil. After living in the wild for several years, he was having trouble picking up on social cues.

“Do you think I should ask her out? I’m a bit rusty.” He ran his hand through his long hair, tugging at the strands. “I should get a trim first, right?”

“And a fucking shower,” Bucky grumbled to himself.

Steve didn’t hear him, he was too busy glaring at his hair in the big mirror on the wall.

Bucky tried to push away that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was becoming harder to pretend this was all innocent. Not when he had to physically restrain himself from punching his oldest friend in the teeth. Steve was allowed to ask you out, Bucky had no right to be jealous.

And yet...

“How long are you stayin’?” he asked, eyeing Steve’s backpack. It wasn’t unusual for him to take Steve in when he was between assignments, but things were different now.

“A few weeks. Is it going to be a problem?”

“Listen, if it were just me, I’d let you stay,” Bucky replied. “But I’m not alone anymore. She doesn’t know you, you’re basically a stranger, and you’re already thinking of hitting on her. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable. This is her home.”

Steve blushed. “No, of course. I understand. I would never-”

“All I’m sayin’ is, she has the final say,” Bucky cut him off. “If she lets you stay, you can take the kids’ room.”

“You sure? It’s right next to her room. I could take the room upstairs, the one above the living room.”

“No, you can’t,” Bucky sighed. “It’s her painting studio.”

Steve stared at him with a suspicious frown. “Are you sure there’s nothing between you and her?”

“Yup, she’s just a friend.”

He tried not to fidget as he forced himself to hold Steve’s gaze. He kept his head high and acted as composed as he could even though his heart was jackhammering in his chest.

“Okay,” Steve drawled out, not entirely convinced. “If you say so.”

As Bucky expected, you allowed Steve to take the guest room, the one with the bunk-bed, though Steve told you that it wouldn’t be a problem. It also meant that he would be sharing your bathroom, and while it didn’t seem to bother you, it made Bucky really uncomfortable.

That evening, he sat down with you and Steve at the dinner table. He made sure Steve was seated at one end of the table, thinking that if you didn’t have him in front of you, you’d interact less. Bucky’s plan backfired pretty quickly. Steve had so many ‘I-lived-in-the-wild-for-ages’ stories that he monopolized the discussion –and your attention.

Bucky spent most of the night lost in his own thoughts, daydreaming, and only smiled when he caught your gaze. He snapped out of his haze when he noticed that he was alone at the dinner table. You and Steve were washing the dishes, talking and laughing.

He felt a pang of envy at the sight before him; it was supposed to be him and it scared him that someone could take you away from him. Then it hit him. He wasn’t special, you were kind and sweet with everyone. It was what had attracted him to you in the first place; your kindness, your fortitude and loyalty.

He couldn’t blame Steve for falling for you, too.

“Guys, I’m going to bed,” he said, standing on the landing between the two rooms.

You turned around mid-laugh and smiled warmly at him. “Good night, Bucky.”

“Sweet dreams, angel.” It slipped out. He didn’t even realize what he’d said, but Steve did.

Steve cocked a brow at his best friend’s retreating figure before he hung his head and let out a brief chuckle.

Over the next few days, Bucky’s mood didn’t improve. He was holding back, unable to reach out to you the way he used to. Steve was always there. Always.

In the morning Steve would come back from a run, sweaty and hungry, and wearing a shirt that was two sizes too small for him. He really laid it on thick, even by his standards, but you didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, you would often go out with Steve when Bucky was working on his new book. He took you to art shows, introduced you to important people and you visited art supply stores together, which annoyed Bucky more than he thought possible.

He felt stuck in a Garfunkel and Oates song, praying for Steve to go away.

I could've wished a thousand wishes for Steve to disappear.

Worst of all, Bucky was snappy with you. Especially after he inadvertently overheard you and Natasha talking about Steve. You painted a vivid picture of Steve’s ass. Figuratively of course, though Bucky couldn’t be certain that you didn’t have hundreds of notebooks filled with drawings of Steve’s ass.

“Hey, stranger.”

He looked up when you walked into his study carrying a tray with his breakfast –coffee and two slices of toasted white bread with butter and jam. You left the tray on a pile of papers and closed the door behind you.

“I was wondering about you, since you didn’t show up for breakfast.” You stood behind him and worked your fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and let you massage his scalp, the tension slowly leaving his body. “Something’s bothering you. I can tell.”

Bucky was so relaxed that his filter was non-existent. “Yeah, Steve’s bothering me. He stole my angel.”

“He can’t steal a mythical creature.”

“You’re my angel,” he half-moaned when you applied pressure to his scalp.

“I haven’t been feeling like your angel lately,” you said, giving him another squeeze before you let go of his head. You took a seat on the armchair close to his desk. “You’re... I don’t know. You’re moody and irritated, and I don’t know how to help you. I know you don’t like surprises, and Steve showing up out of nowhere and staying here was a pretty huge surprise. It’s difficult to cope with change but I think you’re acting a little weird. I swear, Bucky, sometimes you look at Steve like you want to kill him. Is it because we spend time without you?”

Bucky straightened up in his seat and took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Yeah, I guess. You two are having fun and I’m stuck here, alone.”

“You feel left out.”

“A bit,” he replied earnestly. “But if you like him, you should go for it. He’s a good-looking guy, he’s nice. He’s also a dumbass but that’s part of his charm.”

You laughed. “What? Why are you telling me this?”

“I heard you and Natasha,” Bucky explained, blushing. “You said, and I quote: ‘he's got an ass you can bounce quarters off of.’”

You burst out laughing. “Oh, Bucky.”

“What? I’m just sayin’ if that’s what you wanna do... I’ll give you a bunch of quarters.”

“No, thanks,” you laughed. “I’m good. I keep my quarters for something else.”

Bucky speared you with a suspicious look. “So you don’t think his ass is like a juicy peach.” He blinked. “Also a direct quote.”

“Oh, no, I stand by what I said. His ass is so-” you lifted your hands and made a squeezing motion “-tight.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” he rushed to say. “It’s not that impressive. Anyone can do squats. I do squats.”

“Fishing for compliments?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. You looked at him with a fond smile. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He reached for a slice of bread and bit into it, focusing his attention on his laptop screen. You got to your feet and walked to the door.

“Oh, um, by the way, how much of that conversation did you hear?” you asked, leaning against the half-open door.

“Not much, I left after the juicy peach thing.”

You hummed while nodding, your eyes cast down. When you looked up at him, a glint of something mischievous shone in your eyes. “You should have stayed a little longer,” you said enigmatically, your eyes roaming shamelessly over his body.

You raised your eyebrows and closed the door behind you, leaving Bucky speechless and confused. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” he shouted, hoping you could hear him through the closed door. “Angel? Come back!”

Needless to say he didn’t write much after that.

Bucky made a conscious effort to stop being an asshat. A week later, he was in a better mood, and only glared at Steve twice –the first time when Steve put his hand on your knee and the second when he made a vaguely flirtatious remark.

You let Steve and Bucky handle the dirty dishes, and Bucky was sure you did it on purpose. Your little smug smile said as much. Steve didn’t seem happy, he had never liked household chores and probably only did the dishes to spend time with you.

Bucky remembered Steve’s childhood bedroom; shades always down, his bed perpetually unmade, and a monster pile of clean and dirty clothes on his desk chair. He remembered Sarah’s exasperated sigh whenever she entered her son’s bedroom. It made him laugh.

Bucky had always been a neat person, something his mom always took pride in. ‘Look at my son who does his own laundry and sets the table without being asked. Look how well I raised him!’ After his accident, cleaning became an obsession, a way of controlling something that was uncontrollable.

“Did you get Sam’s text?” Steve asked, tossing the now-wet towel on the counter. “Emergency brunch tomorrow at 10.”

“Yeah, I know. Sam has a loose understanding of the word ‘emergency’. Last time he wanted to know if he could pull off a goatee. Not exactly an emergency.”

“Mhh,” Steve replied, thinking. “Are you coming?”

“Hell yeah,” Bucky chucked, “I wanna know what this new emergency is.”

Steve cast him a sideways glance while leaning his back against the kitchen counter. He mulled over something as he watched his friend clean the sink.

“So, um,” Steve started awkwardly. “I have a date tomorrow.”

Bucky’s hand faltered a bit. “Ah? With who?”

Steve looked toward your bedroom door and let out a very loud sigh. “A real-life angel, Buck.”

Bucky let go of the sponge and straightened up abruptly. He glared at Steve, hoping he’d heard him wrong. “What did you just say?”

“I have a date tomorrow night so you’ll have the place to yourself.” Steve smiled to his friend, blissfully unbothered. “I think I’ve been invading your personal space. You always look upset so I thought this would be a great idea. And I’ve been alone for so long, I need... relief you know.”

“Awesome,” Bucky replied, gritting his teeth.

“Great, I’m glad you see it that way,” Steve said, grabbing Bucky’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “See you tomorrow, Buck.”

He watched Steve walk to his bedroom and close the door behind him. Something inside him cracked, and he felt the overwhelming urge to throw something, watch it break into tiny pieces.

He took a deep breath and went in search of you instead. He found you upstairs in your studio, kneeling in front of a canvas, the handle of a pair of pliers in your mouth. It took you a few seconds to acknowledge his presence, and Bucky grinned when you let out a little shocked gasp.

“Did you have fun washing the dishes with Steve?” you teased, taking the pliers out of your mouth.

“I think we need a dishwasher.” He walked into the room and squatted down on his haunches next to you. “Whatcha doing?”

“I’m removing the staples on the stretcher bars so I can roll up the canvas and put it in a tube,” you said. “This way they’re protected and I can carry them pretty easily. I have a meeting with a gallerist tomorrow. Apparently Steve knows her well. He mentioned my name and she wants to see my work.”

“That’s amazing, angel,” Bucky exclaimed. “How can I help?”

“I’m almost done. I just need to finish this one. Can you grab that sheet of plastic on the desk? We’ll wrap it in it and then we’ll use a piece of canvas for extra protection.”

He followed your instructions and made sure not to ruin your hard work. Once the canvas was in the tube, you placed it against the wall next to two similar tubes. Then you cleaned up and put away your tools.

“I don’t know if Steve told you but-”

“Yes, I know,” Bucky cut you off. “The date. It’s great. Honestly.”

“Yeah.” You lowered your gaze and studied your shaking hands, unable to meet his eyes. “Listen, I was thinki-”

“I really need some time to myself anyway,” he talked over you. “So it’s great, y’know? We all get what we want.”

“I guess,” you replied. “It’s getting late, I should go to bed.”

“Getting up bright and early tomorrow, uh?” The jovial tone in his voice sounded forced, even to his ears. You nodded mechanically. “Well, good night.”

“Good night.”

You both stood unmoving, staring at each other. Your eyes were asking for something, pleading with him, but he was too lost to understand. He was lost in his own feelings, remembering something Sam had said a while ago.

There’s an entire world between like and love.

And it was true.

Like was doing the dishes with you. It was laughing and screaming while you chased each other around the living room, using fairy lights as lassos. Like was booping your nose when you watched him cook dinner. It was speaking gibberish after watching a foreign film.

Love was that sweet agony that made him feel more alive than he had ever felt. It was letting you hold his hand and play with his fingers even though his nose felt itchy. Love was seeing you wrap his bow tie around your wrist like a bracelet. It was walking around a deserted planetarium with you.

Love was the colour of your favourite lipstick; Carter Red.

“Thanks for your help,” you said, interrupting his train of thought.

“My pleasure.” He tried to smile but it hurt.

Everything made sense now. His crankiness and irritability, his sudden aversion to his oldest friend, the one who had saved his life. The one who had asked you out on a date –or so it seemed.

“Sweet dreams...” he paused, considering, then used your name instead of your usual pet name.

He had no right to call you ‘angel’ anymore. Steve had asked you out first, he had asked Bucky multiple times if he was okay with that, and Bucky’s answers had always been a gritted ‘yes’.

The truth was, his epiphany didn’t change anything. He wouldn’t have asked you out because there was too much at stake: your friendship, your livelihood, your career, the well-being of your family. He couldn’t put you in an uncomfortable position, couldn’t ruin your hard work.

And he was terrified of these feelings. They were too new, too raw.

You pinched your lips together and nodded, avoiding his eyes. He clenched his jaw hard, hating the resigned look on your face. Why did you look so defeated? Without saying anything, you walked past him and left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Part 9

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #redgillanwrites #redgillan

1K notes · View notes

latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜: 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, promoting, encouraging, justifying nor romanticizing yandere behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Mentions of toxic relationships, yandere behavior, bullying, harassment, blackmail, sexual scenes, abusive relationship, manipulation, verbal abuse, abortion, attempted murder.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐

𝙳.𝙾.𝙱: 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟼𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟿

𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝟷𝟽𝟹 𝙲𝙼/ 𝟻'𝟾 𝙵𝚝.

𝙰𝚐𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■□90%

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: ■■■■□80%

𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚃𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚛

𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜:

𝙰𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜/𝚘.

𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 .

𝚄𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜.

𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚢.

𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You had known him for the longest time, probably since you were both learning the alphabet.

Even back then he was a troublesome boy.

Loved to dip your hair in paint, pour glue inside your backpack.

Or always pushed you off the swings cause he wanted to play in it.

This didn't really faze you back then.

Most of the boys that age played such tricks on almost all the girls.

They all had a specific target and you were Wooyoung's.

You remember telling this one day to your mom, who simply chuckled.

"Honey, boys tend to tease the girls they have a crush on."

You remember looking at her with confusion.

How could they treat someone they like with such utter disrespect and rudeness?

"Because they don't know how to express their feelings."

Like an idiot you believed that, and being the naive little girl you were, you kinda started developing a crush on him.

You remember the first time you talked back to him, it's engraved in your head because it was the first time of many to come where his words, and actions, hurt you.

"Just admit you like me Wooyoung! You only tease me cause you're in love with me."

You remember the rage and disgust in his eyes as he shoved you to the ground, making you scrape your knee on the pavement.

"Get this through that dumb brain of yours Y/N....

No one will ever love a dirty little rat like you."

You came home crying that day. Hurt physically and emotionally at his words.

And the years to come weren't better, as you grew up, Wooyoung's bullying towards you escalated.

You hoped that after you graduated high school and started going to university, you'd be free from him, never see him again.

You could finally be happy for once in your life. Focus on your goals and career.

Everything was going great for you!.......

Until you walked into class and found out not only had Wooyoung been accepted to the same university...

He was majoring in the same field as you!

"Hey dirty little rat. Missed me?"

His cocky smile sent shivers down your spine, you were already fearing what he had in store for you.

If you thought high school was hell, it was nowhere near as awful as the torment Wooyoung was now putting on you.

Tripping you down the stairs to the point you had severe injuries.

Writing nasty and derogatory names on your desk that now wouldn't come off and you'd be forced to look at every time you went to class.

One time he went as far as stealing your assignments, ultimately leading to failing an entire semester.

You were so heartbroken and just done with his shit. You felt no more motivation to even continue studying.

Until a cute boy named Yeonjun transferred and took an interest in you.

He was super nice, friendly and not to mention good looking and hella tall.

It was more than obvious too that he wanted establish a relationship with you, anyone and everyone could see that.

Especially Wooyoung and he did not look the way someone else was making you happy.

So he devised a plan, not caring how messed up it was.

He made sure someone convinced you to go to a party he'd be at.

You found it odd that he was suddenly acting super nice to you, not even calling you those mild nicknames he called you in front of others.

And it shocked you even more when he suddenly apologized to you for everything he'd done to you, even offering to talk to your professor about your assignment.

His eyes seemed so sincere, you actually believed him.

Perhaps he finally decided to change, realized his behavior was unnecessary and immature and of course, like an idiot you accepted his apology.

You got wasted for the first time in your life that night and could not remember anything at all.

Until Wooyoung was 'kind' enough to brief you in on what happened.

He pulled out his phone and made you watch a video he had filmed of you two that night.

Your stomach hurled over as you realized it was a fucking sex tape, you and Wooyoung had actually fucked that night.

"What! No no! This couldn't have happened! There's no way!" You refused to believe it.

Wooyoung just smirked at you.

"Oh but it did happen kitten. You were so eager too as the video displays, you kept asking me to go harder, begging me for another round and wanting my cum all over you..."

"I wonder what would the whole school say if I posted it online....especially Yeonjun."

Now you realized what his game was. He was never sorry. It was just another form of him to torture you, and this tipped the scale.

You were so shaken up, you got down on your knees and begged him not to show anyone the video.

"Please Wooyoung! I'll do anything! Anything!"

"Anything?......really? How about becoming mine then?"

And now you were forever tied to your worst nightmare.

Wooyoung especially enjoyed seeing Yeonjun's disappointed and heartbroken look when he announced that you two were now dating.

Now he couldn't even look at you anymore, feeling somewhat betrayed by your actions.

You wanted to tell him you were sorry and explain to him what was going on, but Wooyoung had eyes on you 24/7.

He even made you move in with him and now even your free time had to be spent with him.

You hated living with him.

He not only made sure to verbally abuse you, but actually seemed to have fun causing tiny accidents to happen around you.

His favorite was when he'd peer over your shoulder as you tried to study.

He scoffed. "Why even bother if all you'll ever be good at is spreading your legs?"

Those were his favorite insults: "whore" "slut" "bitch".

One time you were just so fed up with him, that you ended up snapping back.

"Shut the fuck up Wooyoung! You're such an insufferable piece of shit, no wonder your mom left you and your dad back in middle school."

As soon as the words came out, you wanted to swallow them back in.

Wooyoung was livid at your words.

He not only yanked you up by your hair, but he actually threw you to the floor and started kicking you harshly.

He didn't kick you for too long though, he did not want to risk anyone questioning when he told them you fell down the stairs.

And especially not take you to the hospital.

You had no choice but to stay home as you tried to recuperate.

You remember one of those days, you came home from a quick trip to the convenience store and found some girl blowing Wooyoung on the couch.

You weren't fazed. He often brought girls home and fucked them right in front of you.

You just sighed and decided to ignore the shit eating grin he'd give you whenever you caught him.

You decided long ago it wasn't worth it.

You two weren't even dating cause you wanted to.

He just loved controlling you, having power over you, holding something over your head.

He had this obsessive need to make you miserable.

And you hated that you had no choice but to allow it.

Even when there were things you didn't want to do, you had to or he'd once again blackmail you.

The one time you adamantly refused to was when you found out you were pregnant.

Wooyoung was just as shocked as you.

"And you're telling me I'm the father?"

"Uh......I can't have sex with anyone who isn't you, obviously you're the father."

Wooyoung couldn't let you go through with the pregnancy.

"Get rid of it." He told you.

You wrapped a protective hand around your bump.

"No! This is my baby and I won't allow you to harm it!"

You weren't going to budge though.

"Show the tape to everyone! I don't give a fuck anymore! But I'm not killing an innocent child who has done nothing wrong. "

Realizing he was losing control of you, Wooyoung knocked you out unconscious, deciding to take matters into your own hands.

You woke up a day later, feeling sore and aching in your inner thighs and lower abdomen.

You immediately panicked and sensed something was wrong.

You didn't need Wooyoung to tell you, you knew he had taken you to a clinic and had the baby removed.

You were so shaken up, cried your eyes out and no longer had any will to fight against Wooyoung.

You felt like it all all your fault, the death of your baby was your fault.

You weren't strong enough to save it and it was killing you inside.

You no longer trusted anyone, and you didn't have the heart to talk about it to anyone. Not like they'd believe you or care about you.

But someone did notice, Yeonjun never stopped caring about you and although he was hurt you went with someone else, he still had feelings for you.

And he was very observant and noticed that ever since you started dating Wooyoung, you were skipping a lot of classes....

And you were having a lot of accidents...too many in fact.

And now he just saw you completely lost and like a walking dead.

"Hey Y/N, are you ok?" He asked you one day.

You were going to respond, but the devil made an appearance by your side.

"She's fine and was just coming home with me. Weren't you baby?"

To everyone, it looked like a sweet and caring smile from your doting boyfriend, but you knew it was all fake.

Nonetheless you just kept your head low and went home with him.

Yeonjun noticed the way you trembled when he put his arm around you, noticed the frightened look in your eyes and he knew something was wrong in your relationship.

When you got home, Wooyoung was pissed off at you and immediately struck your face.

"I thought I told you not to talk to him! Can't you obey a simple order you fucking bitch?!"

When he pulled out a knife from the kitchen, you were now scared for your life.

You tried to fight back, but Wooyoung was stronger than you and you were still in pain after the abortion.

He knocked you to the floor and managed to land 2 stab wounds into your right side.

You could never forget the wrath and hate in his eyes as he told you:

"I'm going to fucking kill you."

By some miracle, someone taller and stronger than Wooyoung got him off you, that someone being none other than Yeonjun.

He felt glad about following his hunch and followed you both back home, otherwise he'd end up reading about you in the newspaper.

He had no trouble in subduing Wooyoung and calling the police.

The only thing on his mind was getting you to the hospital as soon as possible.

"It's ok Y/N. You're going to be fine." He assured you

Your physical injuries were easy to recover from, but the emotional trauma and abuse Wooyoung put you through was not.

Yet Yeonjun was there every step of the way, going with you to therapy and just listening to you and your terrifying story.

For the first time in your life, you felt truly loved and happy....

And safe.

A year after the ordeal, you were doing much better and were nearly fully recuperated.

Yeonjun and you rented a place together and were completely in love with each other.

Everything seemed to be going perfect....

And then one day your phone rang.

Picking up, you asked "Hello?"

"Don't think it's over yet you dirty little rat."

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pompousbiscuit · 3 years

Text

(Y/N) Meets Zeke Yeager at a Radiohead Concert In the Year 2012 (Yes, It's The King Of Limbs Hour For Sure)

(You-16 Zeke-17 Porco-16 Pieck-17 Colt-16 Yelena- 17)

I don't fucking know why I think of these things, but here I go, this is for all of you Superior-Music-Taste-Thom-Yorke-er- Radiohead-virgins out there B)

The year is 2012, (Y/N) is 16, and the setting is a Radiohead concert almost one year post-King-Of-Limbs-album-drop.

After working for a few months at your first part time job, you were able to save enough cash to buy concert tickets for you and a friend.

The location of the venue is about 2 hours from your hometown, and it's quite the road trip.

Either using your/your friend's car, or public transportation, to make the trip.

Zeke is 17, he's also at this concert with a group of his friends: Colt, Porco, Pieck, Yelena.

You're jamming out to all the hits, swaying your body to the sound of the music just right, and letting yourself go in a way you've only ever done alone in your bedroom.

King Of Limbs wasn't Radiohead's most well received album, but you love almost anything Thom, that droopy eyed bastard, and the other members put out.

Your friend that you came to the concert with is currently on a bathroom break, leaving you to your own devices in the crowded room.

"Separator" plays loudly throughout the concert hall; the drum beat feels like it has made it's way under your skin, and the melodic sound of Thom's voice feels as if it's an instrument in its own right.

Zeke is currently jogging back inside, he had left only for a moment during a run through of "Morning Mr. Magpie" for a smoke break.

(it's not particularly his favorite on the album)

"Separator" is one of Zeke's favorites comparatively, and he might hit himself after if he ends up missing the live rendition.

He sees a familiar slicked back head of blonde hair while peering over the heads of the crowd, and Zeke's relieved to see Porco turn around and wave him over.

Zeke makes a b-line for his friend, trying his best to shove through the crowd as politely, yet firmly, as he can.

Whilst making his way over, Zeke bumps into someone who's almost completely oblivious to his presence, until said person trips over themselves and falls to their feet.

You luckily brace yourself, your palms and wrists making contact with the dirty ground as to protect your face.

Normally, Zeke would most likely brush this off and claim the situation to not be his problem, and most likely continue on his path to his friends.

A change of heart? Guilt for being a catalyst in knocking you over? (as he suspects it would've happened eventually) Or maybe it's because he notices the way your ass looks in your blue jeans.

Zeke can tell a good ass when he sees one, and everybody has an ass to be appreciated after all, no consideration for gender identity or assigned anatomy needed.

Zeke pauses and decides 'ah, what the hell'.

Zeke crouches down and holds his hand out to you, flashing a boyish grin that suits his younger looking face well, as he begins to offer you an apology.

"My mistake for knocking you on your ass, I was trying to get to my friends... Need a hand?"

Zeke half yells this apology, and in the end it's still very muffled sounding due to the loud music.

You are wary of the boy in front of you, being very well versed in all the basic "stranger-danger" rules, the ones your care-taker/parental-figure drilled into you before you left.

But the slight tug of the left side of his mouth, the dimple in his cheek, his shaggy yet soft looking blonde hair, his stupid but admittedly cool glasses that hang low on the bridge of his nose...

He's cute, and you're too aware of the fact to deny his hand that he's offered to you.

You say a "Thanks", only letting yourself look him in the eye for hardly a second, as he accepts your hand into his roughly textured one.

You feel a flush begin on your chest and rise up to your face, ashamed of yourself for practically drooling at the feeling of just a grasp of a hand around your own.

Zeke assists you in rising to your feet, and he can almost feel your eyes tracing his form, taking him in.

He looks rather typical, a dark t-shirt with a faded "Kid A bear" logo printed on it, under a wrinkled rusty-toned flannel with rolled up sleeves, dark denim loosely encompasses his lanky legs that end with damaged and worn low-top skate shoes.

You only realize your hand is still in his own, when you catch the cheeky look in his eye, after scanning back to to his face.

You retract your hand from his, with suspiciously quick retreat, that has him grinning a little wider.

"Name's Zeke, do you have one?"

You can smell his last cigarette on his breath as he talks, you're both in close proximity due to the people around you.

The performance of "Separator" is almost long forgotten at this point, it's now just the background noise to your first conversation with each other.

You shift your weight back and forth to each foot, settling on leaning to your right side, before looking up to answer him.

"It's (Y/N), and it's okay, I was kinda in my own world for a minute there..." You answer honestly, but almost too bashfully, taking the blame for your tumble.

Zeke shakes his head and answers immediately, "No, I wasn't really paying attention to who I was knocking into, but I guess I was kinda lucky that you happened to be my first victim."

His voice has a slight rasp to it, though he's just 17 he admittedly smokes like a chimney.

His words also have an attractive cadence to them, you can already tell he's a smart ass by the way he's immediately putting the moves on, but you find yourself not really caring all too much.

Zeke starts again, "I also get like that though, in my head I mean, 'specially with "Separator"..."

You nod along and begin to talk to him more about your interest for the track, hardly noticing as the minutes roll by, and with the song changing into "Little by Little".

The both of you exchange words and information throughout the next song, like your ages, preferred albums, what other concerts you've been to.

Zeke completely forgets about his friends in the minutes he's conversing with you, and the same happens with you, until Porco loudly appears with Colt behind Zeke.

"Dude! I waved you over like 10 minutes ago! What the hell Zeke? You're dragging your ass and the other's are-" Porco's sentence cuts off as his eyes drift over to you, understanding the hold up.

Porco turns his head to Zeke and receives a glower from the taller boy. Whilst wearing a shit eating grin, Porco gives Zeke a curt nod and a slap on the shoulder.

"Whatever, just shoot me text in a few man,"

Porco's eyes catch your your for second, as he raises a hand for a quick sayonara,

"Nice meeting ya'."

Zeke pushes up his glasses as he shakes his head in annoyance and heaves a sigh.

As Porco gestures for a confused Colt to follow him back to the rest of the group, you catch eyes with your own friend.

They give you an apologetic glance but then notice Zeke near you, they hold up their hand and toggle back and forth between a thumbs up and thumbs down, silently asking if Zeke's presence was a bother.

You give a thumbs up, which they respond with a double thumbs up, as they make their way over to a group of people and easily start to blend in.

You turn back towards Zeke and offer a smile, finally free of interruptions, as the song ends and fades into "Lotus Flower". Commotion erupts throughout the crowd, as the majority cheer for one of the most favored songs.

Zeke offers you a smile as well, and shuffles a step or two closer, before beginning to speak again.

Ending it there! If I make a follow up then that'll be over here when the time comes: Part Two

I actually... I don't even... Why, that's all I have to say, just why???

Thanks so much for the notes on my previous post! That was my first time hitting over 100 notes!

Tbh... "The King of Limbs" is on the same level as "In Rainbows" for me, soz if you're offended by that statement dawg. Lmk your opinions!

I am Zeke Trash #1, and you're watching Disney Channel

EDIT:

OK, IN LIGHT OF THE NEW EPISODE HERE IS SPICY TEENAGER ZEKE

FUCK IT UUUPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!! imagine this bitch ass in some skater slouchy grungy garbage, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

zeke liking radiohead [zeke playlist] -> MONKE

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favefandomimagines · 3 years

Text

Then Let Me Go (g.w.)

Summary: you’ve been with George since your third year at hogwarts and you wondered if he’d ever propose

AN: this was inspired by a season 3 episode of glee where emma talks to will about marrying her and her OCD and i switched it up and used anxiety instead which is something i deal with all the time

You and George were the epic love story. You beat the odds, survived a war and had reached a mile stone of almost a decade together.

And yet you were at a stand still. Everyone around you was either married or engaged to be married.

Fred had just gotten back from his honeymoon with Angelina, Ron just got married to Hermione and Harry proposed to Ginny two months prior.

And then there was you and George. The epic love story that was grinding to a halt. That thought alone made your anxiety and overthinking worse than it’s been.

Being a half blood, you knew what anxiety was. Your mother had it when she was your age and it was something you dealt with every day. Your boyfriend had known about your illness early into your friendship, long before you were dating.

He was always there for you but now that he was the thing causing your anxiety, you didn’t know who to turn to.

George not proposing made you second guess everything you did. Thinking that the smallest wrong thing would lead to George to admit he didn’t want to marry you.

You were beginning to feel self-conscious and almost like you not revelling in the greatness that is pre marital or post marital bliss, you were a burden.

No one who’s married or engaged wants to hang out with the only person who’s not.

Angelina’s birthday was coming up and Fred had entrusted you in planning the event. Which you said yes to because not only was she your best friend, it distracted you from the constant mental chatter.

You were sitting at your kitchen table, going through the various ideas you had for Angelina’s party.

“Hello, darling.” George greeted you as he entered your shared home. “Hi, Georgie.” You replied, eyes not leaving your plans. “Are you still planning the party?” He asked.

The redhead sat across from you as he watched you hyper focused on your work. “Uh, yes. I just want everything to be perfect. I feel like there’s something missing.” You answered.

“Y/N, it’s going to be perfect. You just have to relax.” He said. “I can’t relax, George.” You muttered, hating the way he told you to relax.

“What’s really going on? I know there’s something wrong, there has been for months.” He commented.

You stopped your movements for a moment before looking up at him.

“D-Do you want to be with me? As in husband and wife?” You questioned. “Of course I do. But planning a wedding and having kids can be a lot for your anxiety, love. I don’t want you to be in that kind of environment.” George answered.

Though his answer was caring, thoughtful and putting you first, you were frustrated by it.

“George, I’m more than just this disease that I have. Every single day is riddled with anxiety but that doesn’t stop me from pursuing the things I love. I got a job at the ministry for Merlin’s sake, despite the constant feeling of not being good enough and that I don’t deserve it.” You started.

You paused to keep your emotions in check but George knew you like an open book.

“I want to marry you, George, I want to be your wife. But if me being so irrevocably in love with you isn’t enough and you only see my anxiety, then you need to let me go. Because this whole time I’ve been watching everyone in my life have what I want. And it’s not fair to either of us to stay in a relationship that’s come to a stand still.” You finished.

You cleared your throat and stood up from the table, heading into the guest bedroom. Locking the door behind you.

George inwardly groaned has he put his head in his hands. The truth was, he had decided he was going to propose to you a long time ago but then he had a conversation with one of his old friends from school and their words got in his head.

Your anxiety would just get worse if you had to plan a wedding and having to care and worry for a child would add on to that. But he was so incredibly wrong for letting that get to him.

—

It had been a week or so since the truth was revealed and Molly had invited you and George to the Burrow for a family dinner.

You and George hadn’t really talked since that day. He made it clear to you that he didn’t want to lose you or end the relationship that you both had jumped through hoops to keep.

The conversations were the usual, normal ones. Neither you of mentioning your previous conversation but the tension was very noticeable.

The whole Weasley family could tell something was off. The extended members included. You and George were usually the couple everyone wanted to be like and now, they couldn’t be happier they weren’t.

Before dinner was ready, Molly had asked if you could help her prepare dinner.

Now you’ve known Molly for years and she rarely asked people for help in the kitchen. The last time she did, it was holiday break and George asked you out the next day.

“Is there something going on with you and George?” She asked you. That was when you broke. No one had been upfront enough to ask you and the fact that someone had, was enough to make you let down your walls.

“I asked him if he thought about marrying me and he basically said he didn’t want my anxiety to ruin it. I didn’t think it was that much of an issue that he didn’t want to marry me.” You cried to the woman.

Molly wrapped you in a tight embrace and cooed you as you cried. “I don’t know what else I can do.” You added. The Weasley matriarch feared for your relationship.

Not only had you had a positive impact on his son but her family as well. Her and Arthur saw you as another daughter and they loved you as if you were their own. She didn’t like seeing you hurt especially at the hands of her son.

After a few minutes of her consoling you and cleaning yourself up, you helped her bring dinner out on to the table and took your ‘assigned’ seat next to George.

He could tell you had been crying. He knew that when your eyes were a little puffy and your eyelashes were damp, that you had been crying over him.

You had three types of crying; the crying over a book, which usually involves a couple stray tears. The frustrated crying, that involved you yelling and sobbing at the same time. And the crying over a boy. Which was quiet and sad, and he knew it quite well because it had been reserved for him for the past decade.

Under the table he placed a comforting hand on your thigh and he felt you tense under his touch before softening slightly.

Dinner soon came to an end, after the hour of grueling wedding talk and questions about when Fred and Angelina were having kids.

Everyone could see the distant look on your face as they talked about it. The only two people who knew what was actually going on was Angelina and Ginny.

While you were helping clean up the table with Ginny and Hermione, Molly pulled her son aside to have a much needed conversation.

“George, what is this I hear about you not wanting to marry Y/N?” She asked. “I-I know how it probably sounded to her. I made it sound really bad. But, I do want to marry Y/N, mum. I just, don’t know how to ask her.” George answered.

He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the small ring box. “I’ve had the ring for a while I just couldn’t find the right time. It has to be perfect because she deserves nothing less than perfect.” He added.

“Sweetheart, Y/N will think it’s perfect because the man she loves is asking to spend the rest of his life with her. That’s all she wants. She wants you to want to marry her, flaws and all.” Molly told him.

George nodded his head as he looked at the ring in his hand. He quietly muttered an ‘excuse me’ to his mother before going to find you. The Burrow was important and significant to the both of you and if that wasn’t the best place, he didn’t know what would be.

“Y/N, may I borrow you for a second?” He asked you. You looked from him to Ginny as she nodded her head and took the plates from your hand. George intertwined his fingers with yours as he led you outside.

The two of you walked a ways away from the house, down the path of tall grass before you had come upon the clearing. The sunflowers were in full bloom around you and the air was warm, a slight breeze blowing.

“What did you need to talk about?” You asked him, avoiding eye contact by looking at the sunflowers blowing in front of you. “Y/N, I need you to know that I love you. I have loved you since I was 14 years old and I have loved you more every day since then. You’re perfect even when you don’t think you are,” George started.

You didn’t know where he was going with his declaration of love. “It’s like that line from that muggle poem you always say, uh what was it?” He stammered. “We loved with a love that was more than love. It’s from a poem by Edgar Allen Poe.” You interjected.

“Yes! That’s it! You and I, Y/N, are the epic love story just like that. And that is why I want to marry you. All of you. I want to live my life with you. I want to have kids with you, preferably twins but I’ll love them all the same. My point is,” George paused, getting down on one knee.

“Marry me, Y/N. Please.” He finished. Your answer to him was wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He didn’t hesitate kissing you back.

The two of you parted and George looked at you with a smile on his face. “Is that a yes?” He asked. “Of course it’s a yes.” You laughed. George laughed in relief as he took the ring out of the box and slid it on to your finger.

#imagine #imagines #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter imagine #hermione granger #ron weasley #draco malfoy #angelina johnson

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refriedweeb · 4 years

Text

LOVE ME WHEN YOUR WRISTS ARE BOUND (18+ SMUT)

A/N: I’ve had a feral-ish predator/prey smut idea roaming around in my head for the past couple of weeks now and I finally figured out a premise for it to exist on which has lead to this sinful post.

Prompt: You’re Pro-Hero Prisma, the name speaking for itself as your quirk is being able to turn yourself and others around you invisible just by touching them. Hawks, your on again off again fling that is far too arrogant for your liking, is sent off to go to a training retreat where you’re there. An old age game of hero and villain tag goes underway...but what happens when the stakes are raised?

word count: 4,957

warnings: rough sex, feral sex, sex.

Your hands smooth back any flyaway hairs that might have come out of your slicked back ponytail. When dressed in your pro-hero costume, you try to remain as sleek as possible. It makes being able to turn yourself invisible far easier when there isn’t as much for you to focus on turning invisible. You’d been in the pro-hero game for a few years now, having your own fair share of rescues and criminal takedowns that has quickly procured you in the top ten heroes. While the listing isn’t as important to you as managing to do the job you’d dreamt of doing since you were a little girl, it is a nice ego booster to know that the public thinks so highly of you. Being able to help people, to bring peace to a troubled community, had done a lot for your confidence and journey of self-love, and you’re in a place of your life where you feel content with things in your personal life the way they are.

When the commission had told you that you would be heading to a resort with a handful of other heroes to get some training out of the way, you were stoked. It wasn’t as much of a vacation as much as it was a chance to reconnect with some pro-heroes and old friends that you didn’t get to see half as often as you would have liked given the demanding nature of your job. You’d packed your bag for the week long course and had jetted off to the foliaged location that kept the exact location of the hero training grounds a secret from any prying criminal eyes. And just as imagined, you got to see plenty of your old friends who were assigned to different distracts of work that you hadn’t since your days at UA.

And then...

“Well, well, well.” There was that infamous drawl that could send shivers down your spine when it was right at your ear. A voice that was so silken and rough around the edges at the same time just earring it sent a spark down your spine no matter how annoying the owner of it was. Son of a bitch. Or in this case, a hawk. “I see they’re just letting any old talent in the resort now.” And as arrogant as ever.

You turned around, your bag bumped against your hip. Hawks somehow managed to look as smug as he ever had, being none too subtle about the way that his body swept over your frame until he was looking you in the eyes. Damn those honey glazed eyes that had always managed to suck out the air in your lungs. But that wasn’t a temptation you were going to give into right now. The last thing Keigo Takami needed was a boost in his ego. You did the same, looking him up and down while you crossed your arms under your bust. “Look who it is, a lost chicken.” Your tone was drenched heavily in sarcasm, not one to have ever backed down from Keigo’s taunting and arrogant status. In response, Keigo stuck his tongue against the corner of his mouth, letting loose a dry chuckle. “You should go back to the city before a fox makes you lunch.”

“So hostile, kid,” Keigo murmured, coming to stand close to you. Close enough that his thigh bumped the edge of your bag and you were glad for that bit of buffer. It’d never been easy to have him close to you. “I’m just here for a little bit of fun.” His eyes dipped over you once more, the sun rising and setting in how he did. Damn him. Finally settling over your lips, Keigo smirked. “Among anything else worthwhile I might find.”

Hawks pushed past you, his shoulder brushing past you. While you’d been able to keep your cool at hearing his voice after months passing since the last time you’d seen one another, the physical contact between you stole a breath from you the moment the electricity crackled from the curve of your arm. You turned after Keigo, mouth hung open, expression narrowed at the audacity of this man.

Damn him. Damn him and everything that he was.

That interaction had been two days ago, and thankfully nothing had happened with Hawks. You were each given your own room to settle in for the next week, and you were living in the lap of luxury. Mount Lady was on the resort with you and you’d been spending most of the group training exercises with her. Strengthening your quirks, decreasing the weaknesses that came with overuse. It was similar to the ones you’d went on as a kid with UA, though this one was far more intense and there was less leniency with messing up as there was when you were still a student. But you didn’t mind. It drove you to be better, to refocus your purpose on why this was your calling. You felt good about the progress you made, the blinding spots and lights that came with overuse of your quirk fading quicker than they had in the past.

And, much to your determination not to give him the damn satisfaction, you’d only been mildly distracted by the bird man who knew how to drive you up a wall. It was hard not to watch him speeding through the air, the way he moved so graceful. Hawks had always been impressive even before he’d become a pain in the ass. His frame was lean, not exactly the type of body that you saw unless it was on a power quirk. But there was hidden strength in muscles that were hardly shown due to the jacket he wore as part of his costume. He was a show off, of course, but it was hard to ignore moving art in the sky.

Today was a different day in the training course, and as the group of pro-heroes lined up outside of a deep foliaged area, you had a twisting sensation in your stomach. This wasn’t going to just be a group training idea, there was something special about this one. And for some reason...your eyes went to Hawks. He was talking to Masaki Mizushima, otherwise known as Manual, when his eyes flickered to you. There was that dangerous curve of a closed-mouth smile that had your eyes snapping away. You chided yourself for even looking.

“Alright heroes,” your attention turned back to the instructor leading your training exercise today. “Today we’re doing capture and releases. You’ll be teamed up with a hero that has a quirk meant to makes yours difficult, and vice versa.” Your eyes widened, that sensation in your gut twisting. Son of a bitch. “This is to help adapt you to situations you’ll be in as pro-heroes where you’re not always the best suited quirk to take on your opponent’s.” The instructor’s voice faded away. This was some sort of karmic punishment for something that you’d done in a past life, you just knew it. You knew who the opposite of your quirk in that line up was, and it’d been the one person that you’d been trying to avoid all week. You listened as the instructor went down who was paired with who, and what role they’d be taking in the touch and go. You were grimacing, knowing what was coming.

“Prisma and Hawks, you’ll be teamed up. Prisma can turn herself invisible and will challenge Hawks to use his vision to the best advantage to spot her through the foliage. Hawks, you’ll be the Hero.” you gave a small groan. “Prisma, you’ll be the villain.” You turned to look at Keigo, letting out a sharp exhale through your nose to see that it was now he who was watching you, that smug expression larger than what it’d been several minutes ago. There was a waggle of his brows as he pushed his goggles over his nose and slapped his headphones on. If you were playing the role of villain through this exercise, it’d only make sense for the character if you killed him, right? Right?

You walked over towards the section of foliage you were assigned for your specific training exercise, Hawks watching you like a starved man as you swaggered over. One of his favorite parts of your body had always been your hips, curved and full, what your mother and grandmother had always stereotyped as ‘birthing hips’. He’d never been able to get enough of it, hands digging in at any given moment the two of you were together. There’d even been a point in time where he’d bit your ass because he’d been unable to help himself. Keigo Takami was a man who knew what he liked and had no problem showing it, and considering that your hero costume was as skin tight as it could possibly be due to your quirk, he was practically drooling. Frankly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had some part in this.

“Shut up.” Is all you need to say before Keigo chuckles, zipping his mouth shut with his fingers and tossing the key. You know it’s not something that’ll last for long, but it’ll give you enough time to get over the blush you feel at your cheeks and ears.

“Prisma, Hawks. The objective of this training exercise is to exploit your weakness and strengthen it. Hawks, your weakness is that you can fly high up with great speed, but rely on your feathers too much. You’ll be challenged to look with your eyes on something you can’t see. Prisma, your weakness is that the longer you stay invisible, the worse your eyesight gets until you can’t see. You’ll have to focus on using your quirk intermittently with staying out of Hawks’ line of vision from the sky. You have until nightfall to either, as the villain escape, or as the hero apprehend the villain.”

You tip two fingers against your forehead in a lazy salute, sighing as you center yourself on what you’re about to do. Like hell you want to be caught by Hawks, dedicating your focus to avoid getting caught. You want to win, you want to work on straightening the limitation you have on your ability so you can help serve better. The two of you are stood at the entrance to your training area, a thick forest with trees of varying height that are either going to work to your advantage or disadvantage depending on how Hawks uses them. Speaking of the devil...

As your instructor walks away, Keigo comes to stand behind you, leaning forward just enough that he’s not touching you, but you can hear his voice in your ear. That same sarcastic drawl, dripping in arrogance like he’s already won. “How about we raise the stakes, kid?” Your stomach drops lower to the spot between your hips, and your back goes rod straight. “How about if I catch you before you make an escape, I get to fuck you where I find you.”

Your breath caught as the shivers raced up and down your spine. The feeling of Keigo’s fingers whispering against your hips almost enough to make your knees buckle. If there wasn’t a worse person that you could have been paired up with. It had to be the on again off person that you fucked. Your eyes rolled to the sky, taking in a deep breath. “Because you know...” he continued, breath hot against your ear. “I’ve always been a fan of catching prey when they’re on the run.” Your heart is hammering in your throat and you’re sure he can hear it. It’s hard to remember what it is to breathe in that moment, and you almost lean back into his body because, after all, old habits die hard.

“Who says you’re going to catch me?” you ask, turning your head so that you can catch his eye over your shoulder. That feeling hits deep in your belly once more once you see the narrowed slit of his pupil. Usually round, you know this look on Keigo. It’s predator, it’s hunter, it’s Hawks. And you know in that moment you’re going to be fighting more than one enemy in that simulation. It wasn’t just your weakness with your quirk that you were working against. It was your weakness with Keigo Takami as well.

“Because, kid,” Keigo’s eyes drop to your mouth. “I don’t lose.”

Damn.

“Well, Hawks,” you turn to him, taking slow and measured steps back into the foliage that was going to either aid you or ruin you. You made sure to lean into your hip heavily, swaying back and forth that had Hawks’ attention almost immediately. “Catch me if you can.”

And with that, the two of you split your separate ways. Hero and villain. Hawks shot into the sky in a flurry of red wings, and you coated yourself in invisibility as you ran into the foliage, careful not to step too heavily as you darted under the trees. Looking up, it was near impossible to spot Hawks speeding through the sky, dipping down and flying up as he looked for any sight of your impressions on the ground. Your terrain was an uphill one, and soon enough your trek uphill had left you out of breath. You dipped under a tree, letting your invisibility fall as you became visible to the outside world. Except, of course, you were not foolish enough. Keigo’s words in your head were still settled deep within your belly, but you weren’t about to lose just yet. You shed your boots, setting them at the base of a tree before you took coverage in a tree that you climbed. With your eyes turned towards the sky, it’s only a matter of time before Keigo’s wings come into focus, beelining straight for the boots.

He extended a gloved hand as if to grab for the boots and snatch you out, only to stop short and skid along the ground as he realized there was nothing attached to them. “Clever, kid.” He called out, doing a quick swipe around. Luckily, you’d cloaked yourself once more before he’d spotted the tree you were in. That would have been game over, though watching the sweat that clung to his forehead...didn’t seem too bad. You pinched yourself, reminding yourself that you were a villain and it was your objective to get out. “You’re somewhere here, aren’t you?”

But that didn't mean that you couldn’t have a little fun...right? Slowly, carefully, you lowered yourself from the branches you’d been hiding away, wincing at the slight rustle of ground gave in when you hit. Hawks whipped around again, eyes wide, pupils narrowed. “Come on songbird, let me hear you sing.” That static ripped through your belly again, and you took measured steps closer to him. You bent over, cloaking a rock once more before chucking it off on the other side of you that hit a tree. Hawks spun around again, a couple of small red feathers shooting out from his wings to try and pin what he thought was you against a tree. It took everything not to laugh in that moment, looking at how focused he was.

You were doing your best to ignore the feral look in his eyes. How windswept his hair was from his flying. How you knew what Keigo was like when he wanted to win at something. And to see how determined he was when you were the prize. You squeezed your thighs together, rolling your lower lip between your teeth. “What’s the matter, Keigo?” you asked, doing your best to throw off your voice from your current location, slowly edging up the steep incline. “I thought you wanted to fuck me.”

Hawks shot out from where he’d been, coming for where you’d been only seconds before. You took off running up the hill, ignoring the pain searing through your thighs at just how much you underestimated the sleepiness of the climb. Still, you pushed through it, your vision starting to dizzy as you ran. How long had you and Hawks been at this? It didn’t feel incredibly long, but then again the sun was in a much different positioning than when you’d started, and the sky was starting to turn shades of purple. Almost nightfall. Had the other pro-heroes finished their courses already? Maybe it hadn’t been the wisest decision to take off your boots, either, as you came in contact with a patch of wet mud. Your footing slipped, and with it your invisibility cloaking. A gasp hit you as you saw your hand clear as day, and in that moment you knew you were down for. In a last ditch attempt to redeem yourself, you cloaked back up but the sharp yank to the right as one of Hawks’ feathers tore through your hero costume.

A yelp escaped from your throat as you found yourself pinned to a tree at the nape of the neck, leaving you dangling from the trunk of the tree. With the gig finally up, you dropped your invisibility as you folded your hands under your chest. On one hand, you were pissed you’d been unable to outlast Keigo. On the other hand...you’d been taunting him just moments ago and knew what that did to him. The sound of rustling feathers came and Hawks sauntered around the tree, looking at you with that same infuriating expression from the beginning of the exercise.

“So close too, kid. So close.” He teased, running his tongue over his canine tooth. Keigo came to rest his hips against yours, your mouth dropping open at the presence of him there. It’d been so long since it’d been like between you two, but how could you forget that? “And you would have won, too, except you just had to go on teasing me like that. You know what your teasing does to me, kid. Damn near maddening.” he pulled off his glove with his teeth, coming to grip your jaw. “So damn mad.”

Your eyes widened as he dug his hands into your chin, holding you so tight that you couldn’t look either way. Only at him. Your throat was tight as you swallowed, Keigo continuing on as he pulled your hands apart, using a spare feather to pin your wrists to the bark above you by the fabric of your costume. Keigo, despite his earlier disposition, is serious now. And you know how in trouble you are. You can see it in that narrowed slit of his eyes, the color of the sun burning there. “Can’t let that go, songbird. I’ve gotta remind you not to fuck with me.” He leaned in, the hand that wasn’t gripping your jaw in an iron lock trailing down the curve of your side, coming to thumb the space between your thighs that you’d been ignoring ever since he whispered into your ear down at the base of the mountain. “Gonna have to remind you of that,” Keigo murmured, eyes lowering as he leaned in over you. You could feel the length of him against your thigh, instinctively angling it out so you could feel him closer to your core.

“Keigo-” you gasped as he rolled his hips in against you. “Keigo what if we get caught?” Though by the feeling of his presence, you didn’t know if you’d mind that much if you got your itch scratched.

“And what about it?” he breathed. His thumb slipped over you again, causing you to shudder. “You really think I give a damn who sees me fucking you? Claiming you like the little slut for me you are?” You squirmed against the hand he kept between your thighs, letting out a harsh exhale. “Already so needy for me. I’m starting to think you lost on purpose, kid.”

You opened your eyes, glaring at him. “I lost because I slipped.”

Hawks chuckled, giving a shrug. “If that’s what you wanna say there, kid. All I know is I won...and now I’m claiming my prize.” The static runs straight from your brain to your core, and you let out a whine. Keigo hummed, reaching up behind your back and leaving you with cool air against the heat that had been growing between your thighs as he undid the back of your uniform. “What a fuckin’ prize, huh, kid? I get to ruin this body all over again.”

The feather that had been pinning your wrists together removes itself, reforming to Hawks’ wings as he yanked you around, pressing your face in against the bark. It burned, but it was the furthest thing from your mind as Hawks pushed down the skin tight fabric of your pro-hero costume, his hands finding their way under the fabric and rolling it further and further down until it was just beneath your ass.

You yelped as the sound of a smack sounded through the air, the stinging sensation hitting your backside seconds later. He’d just landed a sharp slap across your ass and you were about to make another comment when another came again, causing you to squirm. “This is what you get for teasin’ me, kid.” he said, and you were able to catch the way that Hawks was leaned back, his eyes dragging down the length of your exposed back and skin. The leather of his gloved hand struck again, causing you to whine. Keigo’s eyes flashed to look up at you, the look there positively feral. You can feel the heat starting to seep through your legs, and that has Hawks’ attention in a matter of seconds. “So filthy, aren’t you? You like it when I slap you on the ass. You want to be punished for being such a filthy little slut,” the slap came again and your groaning, attempting to push your backside in against his hips. “So fuckin’ eager, kid.”

Keigo places his hands on your hips, pulling you back against his hips so you can feel how hard he’s gotten in the time he’s caught you. This is the whole thing. The chase is what excites him and the most and what better example of his highest fantasy is there then getting to chase you through foliage like the bird of prey that he is? And true to his word, he’s going to fuck you as his victory claim. You grind your backside his, angling yourself so that you can feel the full length of him slipping between you. You groan, your head falling back against your shoulders as Keigo realizes this, pushing up into you.

“I wanna hear you beg, kid. Swallow that fuckin’” a sharp slap comes across your behind again. “Cocky attitude you had earlier.” He slaps your backside again, and you can’t fight the moan that escapes you. “Your mind kid, I’m always gonna fuckin’” another slap. “Win.”

At this point you can feel the wetness between your thighs, and your squirming as he rocks his hips back and forth as if he’s already fucking you. “Keigo-” you whine pushing your hands against the tree so you can be flush with his hips. “Please.”

“Please, what?” You hear the sound of his belt coming undone, the buckle slumping.

“Keigo,” you breathe, only to feel that sharp leather across your backside that causes you to cry out.

“Please, what?” he repeats. His voice is hardened as the cock between his legs. The zipper of his pants sounds, and you can feel the rawness of him against your lips. He’s teasing you. He wants you to beg. To ask nicely. “Beg for it, songbird.”

“Please fuck me,” you gasp just as he pushes himself up and down the length of your lips again.

Keigo’s hands find their way to your hips again, fingertips digging in as he lines himself up. “Since you asked so fuckin’ nicely...”

You hold your breath in anticipation. Keigo’s wings puff out on either side of you, providing little coverage for what he’s about to do to you. You catch yourself admiring the beautiful red color of them before he’s slamming his hips in against yours, throwing you forward at the shock and power behind it. The sound of Keigo’s groan behind you turns your knees to putty, almost enough to cause your legs to give out from underneath you. “Ahh, fuck, there it is.” he groans, slowly pulling himself to the edge of his length before slamming back into you with the same intensity. You lurch forward again, hands pressing into the tree in front of you to keep from ramming in against it. “Feel so fuckin’ good, kid.” He fucks into you again, your head dropping to your shoulders once more. Eyes shut, you don’t see Keigo reach out with that gloved hand, and hook two fingers against the side of your mouth.

The sound of skin slapping against skin starts to fill the area between you along with the sounds of Keigo’s breathlessness and the small whines falling from your mouth. Despite his erratic breathing, he’s kept a good pace, your inner thighs positively soaked from what he’s done to you. He’s entranced by the way your skin bounces and moves each time he comes slamming back into you, filling you up with every ounce of his cock. “You like that, songbird, you like how fuckin’” slap “Good I feel inside of you?”

You struggle to answer him, your head wrenched back at an angle with Keigo’s leather wrapped fingers pulling out your cheek. Your legs are shaking, and it’s everything you can do to keep your muscles from collapsing underneath you as he fucks into you, creating a mess of your insides. Finally, you moan as a response, reaching an arm back just to be able to touch him in some respect. Keigo, not the complete asshole, leans forward so that you can grab onto the front of his jacket. The hand he’d been using to steady himself against your hips slips down to your front, massaging at your clit. This sends you into a spasm, wrestling against the overstimulation that your body was currently being sent through, desperately whining as he continues to tap, circle, and stimulate your clit meanwhile continuing the fluid motion of fucking in and out of you.

Keigo’s got the advantage here too, and seeing you struggle against getting him to lay off before you come, only sends him into more of a fury. His thrusts become faster, more erratic. They starting hurting as they hit into you, causing you to moan in pain and pleasure each time. You’re squeezing your legs together, clenching down around him as he fucks in and out of you. Your high is close, and your knees start to falter under you as it does. “K-Kei-” you’re unable to get his name out as another wave of pleasure rolls through you, threatening to push you over the bridge right there as Keigo starts to fuck you even faster, the wetness on your thighs crawling down further.

“You gonna cum, songbird? You gonna cum around this fuckin’ cock just like you always do?” The whine pushes through you as he yanks on your cheek. “Go on then, sing for me, you’re my fuckin’ songbird.”

And with the permission granted, you unravel around his finger and his cock, your legs spasming as you cry out, your inner thighs becoming even wetter than before. Your moan is none too quiet as it rips through you, your back arching as the shivers run up and down your spine once more as you ride out your orgasm. You’re panting, breathless, dripped in sweat, but Keigo isn’t done. “What a good fuckin’ slut, (Y/N).”

You moan as he returns both ands to your hips, spreading you further as he quickens his pace once more. “Gonna fill you up so good, so fuckin’ much.” You whimper as he buries himself in you, his thrusts sloppy and hurried now. He’s close now, and in order to help him reach his own orgasm, you lean back, body flush against his. “Fuck yeah, ah, fuck yeah.” he’s panting in your ear now, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Once you reach back and feel the space under his jacket and shirt where feather meets wing, it’s game over.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, I'm gonna cum,” his voice is gravely, pained as he loses the last of his momentum. The sound of your moans mingle together as he does just that, spilling himself inside of you. His drip joins the slow race down your thighs, and with one final thrust, empties the rest of himself in the folds of your heaven.

The two of you remain there in silence for a period of time before he pulls out of you, leaving a mess between your lips. You’re immediately on your knees, unable to support yourself anymore from what he’d just done to your insides. Your breathing is still labored, as if you’d just run up and down the mountain without break. Your legs are spent, still riding out the tidal wave that was your orgasm. Behind you, you hear Keigo zipping up his pants, adjusting the buckle.

He looks as spent as you feel, and he pulls his glove on with his teeth as you lock eyes. That feral look is still there, and you doubt you’re done with one another for the night. You sure as hell don’t think you are. “What’s wrong, kid?” Keigo leans over, landing a gloved slap to your ass. “Get up, gotta go tell the instructor what a good hero I was in apprehending such a bad, bad villain.”

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harryspet · 4 years

Note

ahh i love your writing and your dark!peter fics are the best, could we get a darkfic of peter bullying/harassing the reader and then things escalate if you know what i mean ??

rude boy | peter parker

[Warnings] dark peter parker x reader, bully peter, verbal/physical harassment, noncon/dubcon, fingering, public sex, mentions of intercourse/oral sex, peter being a jerk, fish sticks

A/N: I combined your ask with another bully peter request I got! I’ll post that asks right after this. Hope you like this!

In which Peter can’t make up his mind about whether he loves or hates you.

word count: almost 3k

Your gaze fell down to your lap as he entered the classroom. Everyone else’s seemed to lift, admiring their classmate who famously saved the world several times. It was safe to say that the fame had gone to his head. You nervously played with the ends of your skirt as you waited for the commotion in the room to die down and for the class to start.

That didn’t happen because an unfamiliar person slid onto the stool beside you and you lifted your head to see Peter. He gave you a bored look as he looked you over, “What’s up, fish sticks?”

Your eyes shut tightly as you winced at the name. He knew it got under your skin and loved to watch you squirm. He nudged your arm, “Hmm?”

Everyone remembered that time in fifth grade, on the trip to the aquarium, where you threw up your packed lunch on one of the employees. Your mom had packed you fish sticks and, as you sat through one of their fun presentations, one of the presenters picked you to come up to the stage. You were shy, even back then, and as he asked you something you learned that day, you completely lost your lunch on his shoes. This all led to one of your classmates shouting, “She barfed up her fish sticks!” and laughter ensued.

Even Peter seemed to think it was still funny, “You’re not my partner, Peter,” You said, not meeting his eyes.

“Now I am,” Your heart skipped a beat as you heard him, “I can’t work with Ned anymore, he sucks at cooking and I need a good grade in this class.”

You looked back at Peter’s normal seat to see your family and consumer science partner sitting with Ned. You liked her and she always did her fair share of the work. You were sure the opposite would be true for Peter.

Peter faked a smile at you, “So what are we cooking today? Fish sticks?”

You took a deep breath, your hands tapping nervously at the table, “You could try looking at the board,” You felt him scoot his stool closer to you, his body leaning over the counter.

“I think I’ll just look at you instead,” Your breathing hitched in your throat as he leaned into your ear. Just as he did, your teacher entered the room. You thought she was a good teacher, she graded easily, and Peter must’ve been a complete idiot to not be doing well. Clearly, this wasn’t his subject of expertise.

The room was set so each station had its own oven, stove, and appliances. This unit was all about cooking and today you were making dessert. Your teacher gave you a list of instructions before adding that you should all make sure you’re following safety protocols.

You stood up from your stool, mostly just to get some space from Peter and walked over to grab an apron.

The assignment went much worse than you expected. Peter refused to even lift a spoon or even wear an apron. He sat by as you did all the work, only offering to lick the spoon clean when you were finished with it. The times he got off his butt were to walk over to Ned’s table to chat with him.

“You’re good at this,” Peter said, as you poured the batter into a cake tin. You were a little out of breath from running around to grab supplies, “You should come over and make me a sandwich sometime.”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, trying to keep yourself from responding.

As soon as you got your cake into the oven, you took a deep breath, taking a look at the clock to see if you were going to finish on time, “Can you chill? You’re stressing me out.”

You rested your hands against the counter, “I’m …” Your voice raised only for a moment before you lowered it, “I’m stressing you out?”

Peter noticed your frustration and smirked, “Awe, I’m joking fish sticks. You’re doing great,” He winked.

Maybe you could talk to the teacher, tell her that you and Peter were not a good fit together. She’d ask you why you didn’t want to be partners and then you would have to tell her … and facing Peter after that would be a nightmare. You shook your head at the thought and convinced yourself you could go the rest of the semester doing the work all by yourself.

You were going to get into a good school, especially with the number of clubs you were a part of and the one that you created yourself. A book club because you loved reading and school was lacking one. There were four members in total including you and your friend Jess. If you wanted your club to seem serious on college applications then you needed more members.

Jess had the idea of hanging up banners and flyers during the free period and, of course, you were all in.

You went around the school with a ladder the janitor lent you and hung up your homemade posters. You were hanging a large banner towards the front of the school when the bell suddenly rang, ending the free period.

“Just a few more inches to the left,” Jess instructed you and you slowly moved the poster to the position she wanted before Jess reached up to hand you the tape.

There was something about you that Peter couldn’t quite wrap his head around. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you. It was something about the snooty, preppy way you dressed that he a distaste for but turned him on to you at the same time. You were so intelligent but corruptible still. It was quite frustrating knowing you’d only see him as a nuisance.

He watched the back of your legs, your skirt slightly rose as you taped up your poster. He thought about those baby pink panties you were probably wearing.

You were admiring your work when suddenly the ladder shook and, for a moment you thought you might fall back until you barely caught yourself. A sharp shriek left your lips and the hall went silent until everyone was staring at you and then chuckling. You felt your cheeks warm as you quickly stepped down the ladder.

You looked around the culprit and found Peter walking backward in the other direction. He smiled, “See you at book club, fish sticks!”

Your hands formed a fist at your side as you gave Jess an incredulous look.

“Sorry,” She apologized, but you were already marching away.

Two weeks later, you were in a crowded subway car heading to school. Some soft pop song was playing in your headphones and you were swaying your head slightly to the music. Your eyes traveled around as you people watched.

You had done this route every day but you found yourself getting nervous now when you thought about school. Peter had seemed to take a special liking to you and wouldn’t leave you alone. He made you do all his work in family and consumer sciences and he’d make sure to shout something embarrassing at you when you saw him in the hall.

A few days ago you were heading to your lunch table with your tray when he walked up to you, “Sit with me today,” He had told you, eyes more serious than you had ever seen them.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because I said so,” He continued and you raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think I can take any more fish stick jokes,” Anger settled over his features and it scared you, “No, but thank you.”

Any day before this, you would’ve said yes just because of how much he scared you. He was a superhero and what were you? Nothing. And everyone saw you that way. You were just tired of him torturing you.

You should’ve trusted your instincts because as you walked around him, you lost your balance, and tripped over his outstretched foot. The cafeteria went quiet and you moaned in pain as you pulled yourself up. Your spaghetti was now staining your bright colored sweater.

Peter leaned down, “Forgive me for trying to be nice to you, Y/N,” He held out his hand for you to take and, you only stared at him, before standing up yourself. Jess rushed over, napkins in hand, but you were already running from the cafeteria, tears stinging your eyes.

You shook your head as you tried to stop thinking about it. As if you had unconsciously summoned the devil, you felt a hand on your waist. You jumped, of course, and thought some middle-aged man would be standing behind you but it was even worse.

“Turn back around,” He spoke huskily in your ear and you shook your head. His arm wrapped around you, his hand wrapping around your throat as he pulled you back into him, “Don’t struggle. Wouldn’t want to make a scene, right?”

How long had he been watching you? How long had he been following you?

Your eyes darted around, looking for anyone who had noticed what was happening to you but you saw no one. Everyone so packed together and clearly focused on whatever was going on in their busy lives. Peter’s other arm wrapped around you, under your arm, and settled on your stomach.

You started to shake your head as his fingers trailed against the top of your skirt but his grip on your throat tightened, “What color panties are you wearing?” He whispered in your ear, “Hmmm?”

It was clearly rhetorical because, with every word you spoke, his grip tightened. You had to keep still in order to breathe. His hand slid between your skin and the waistband of your pastel skirt and he felt between your legs. A small whimper left your lips as his fingers rubbed your sex through your panties.

His nose pressed into your hair and he took in your scent as he began rubbing circles against the fabric of your underwear.

Peter had to see for himself if you were really what he wanted and he was tired of hiding his attraction. The confusion and tension in his mind had finally stopped. He was going to have you.

You had rarely even touched your private parts yourself so, the feeling rising in your core, felt completely foreign. A second later, he was dipping his fingers in the fabric of your panties. Your face completely warmed and you couldn't help how your body flinched at the sensation.

“You’re mine from now on, to do whatever I please,” You ran from the feeling, from the pleasure, for as long as you could but Peter’s fingers worked like magic. Your chest heaved up and down as your breathing became more erratic. You were nearing something and that scared you even more. Peter held you steady and kept you from going anywhere and you were forced to face whatever he had unleashed inside you.

“There you go, that’s it, Y/N,” It was a giant explosion deep inside you, and Peter moved his hand around your neck to cover your mouth as you orgasm.

You were shaking as his fingers still played with that sensitive bulb in your panties. When he finally released you, you felt more disgusted at yourself for feeling such pleasure.

Peter turned you around and you were so dizzy that you couldn’t even push him away as he slammed his lips against yours. Anyone around you would’ve saw it as annoying PDA by a couple of teenagers but, really, a predator had just sunk its teeth into its prey.

You sat with Peter at lunch from the day forward. You decided it was better than him humiliating you in front of the entire student body.

You weren’t sure what exactly you were to him. He seemed to want a personal punching bag as well as the intimacy you could provide. He’d tease you constantly, especially in front of his friends, but he’d want to make you cum right after being the jerk he was.

He’d invite himself over to your house so you could help him with a school project or rather have you do it for him. Then he would … use his tongue against your private parts and make you lay with him for hours.

One weekend, while you were walking home from a late-night study session at Jess’s house, a figure landed right in front of you. You hated how he loved to make his entrances by scaring you. Completely clad in his red and blue suit, Peter looked you up and down, “Why are you out walking so late?”

You took a cautious step back, “My apartment is three blocks away.”

“I’m aware and that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Can I at least have the weekends to myself, Peter?”

Peter cocked his head to the side and you wished very much to see whatever devilish look was. As he took a step forward, you took another backward, which caused him to laugh, “I’m offended, Y/N. I’m just a friendly neighborhood spider-man trying to help a poor, lost girl find her way home. There are sickos out this late.”

“Peter-”

Peter suddenly raised his hand and you saw a web shoot out into the distance. Before you could follow where it led, Peter’s arms were around you, and you were flying with him in the air. You squeezed him for dear life, your lungs unleashing every scream within you, as your stomach rose and fell with the swinging motion.

When you finally landed on your feet, you were standing on the fire escape just outside your bedroom. You lost your balance but Peter was there to catch you again. Peter pulled off his masks and you saw his tired face and messy hair beneath it.

He smiled at you, “Gonna puke, fish sticks?”

You tried to pull away from him, anger boiling up inside of you, “I-I hate you! I hate you, Peter!”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks and you were punching at his chest. It had no real effect on him and he simply grabbed your hands and held them in place. He pulled your hands down and pulled your forward, kissing you hard.

You seemed to calm as his soft lips moved against yours. You hated it but it did. Your hands calmed and he let them go. Peter’s brown eyes narrowed into yours when he finally pulled away. He grabbed your face then, “I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N,” He wiped a tear away from your face, “But I don’t think I can let you go just yet.”

He kissed you again and you started to move your lips against his. It was easier that way. You stayed there for a long time, your lips on his, as your tears began to dry. He wasn’t going to leave you be so you thought you might as well enjoy it. The most popular boy in school, in New York, wanted you. Shouldn’t that make you feel good?

Peter moved to open your window, “Peter … my parents.”

“I’ll be quiet,” Peter insisted as he slipped inside. You did the same and you watched as Peter slowly shut it back.

You moved over to the bed, taking off your backpack, and preparing for what Peter usually wanted to do. You looked up, surprised when you saw he was taking off the suit … all the way.

“Peter, I’ve never-”

He shushed you, “I haven’t either,” That surprised you to hear. He approached you on the bed, only wearing his boxers, and your eyes raked in his exquisite physique. A lot has changed for him in the last few years, “But I’m sure I can figure it out.”

He kneeled down by your feet and took his time removing your shoes and then your socks. He wanted to take his time admiring you and this made you feel like a piece of art, “Why me?” You asked hesitantly.

“I have this awareness of my surroundings, like something in the back of my mind,” You weren’t expecting an honest answer but Peter’s eyes were completely earnest, “When I’m around you, it goes haywire and when I don’t have it, I’m vulnerable. I hate that.”

“So you do this to me b-because you hate me?”

Peter stood up, leaning forward as he pushed you down towards the bed. You slowly moved back towards your headboard as Peter crawled on top of you, “Not anymore. I like feeling certain things … when my defenses are down.”

His face was hovering above yours now, his fingers trailing over the waistband of your underwear. He started to pull them down and you stared with wide eyes because he didn’t even look away from you.

“Oh,” was all that left your mouth as he spread your legs. Everything about him confused you but it was useless to argue with him. You reached up to touch his shoulder which surprised him, to say the least. You touched the skin there and then the hardness of his chest.

Peter tossed your underwear to the side, positioning himself between your legs. His eyes darkened as he looked at you and, suddenly, he was pinning your hands above your head. He kissed you as he used his other hand to pull down his boxers, letting his member spring free. He rubbed its tip against your sensitive bulb, trailing it up and down to tease you.

When he finally entered you, it was slow and patient despite the hungry look in his eyes. He watched as you winced and moaned in pain as he stretched you for the first time. He’d bury himself deep inside of you for the rest of his life if he could. He’d make you tighten around him as he gave you orgasm after orgasm.

“You make me feel human again, Y/N,” Peter grunted into your ear. After all, he had lived through and what he was meant to go through now, he’d use you to bring him down to earth. You were a toy, a tool, but maybe you could learn to enjoy the closeness. The intimacy.

Human.

Peter both desired and despised the feeling.

I hope you enjoyed this! Please be sure to like, reblog and let me know what you think! Check out my harryspetrequests tag for more of my requests and my master list for more dark peter fics!

#harryspetrequests #dark peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x oc #dark fic #dark Peter x reader #spiderman #spider-man: far from home #bully au #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu smut #marvel #dark marvel #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #peter parker #spiderverse

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alwaysfeelingsaintlike · 3 years

Text

Charmed I’m Sure [G.W.]

Description: George is in desperate need of assistance with his Charms essay and he turns to you. Working together brings you closer than you expected.

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I wrote a bunch of these short stories/one shots a while ago that I decided to post them on here! Keep in mind I wrote this one AGES ago, so I know this one isn’t great but it sets the scene for some of the others I have. As I post these, they should get better :) Also I’m new to posting fics on Tumblr so bear with me as a work the kinks out

“Hermione, please!?!?” You heard from across the common room.

“For the last time George, no! I will not write your Charms essay for you!” Hermione said.

“But it’s due tomorrow and I haven’t even started yet!”

“Sorry, that’s your problem. I’ve got other things to work on.” She left the common room and you chuckled quietly to yourself.

“Waiting until last minute again, are we?” you asked George. He gave you a look that said it all.

“If you’re going to give me the speech about being more responsible and managing my time more wisely you can just skip it because I’ve heard that one too many times.”

“Me lecture? Never.”

He rolled his eyes and you said, “Come here, what’s this essay about.”

He sat down next to you on the couch and said, “Y/N, you’re brilliant at Charms! Will you please write this for me!?”

“Write it for you? No. But I will help you with it.”

He hugged you suddenly and said, “Thank yoooooou!”

“Easy. You can thank me when you finish the essay. I think you’re putting a little too much faith in me. I’m a year behind you so I might not even know about what you’re learning.”

“Eh semantics,” he said nonchalantly and you gave him a skeptical look. But sure enough, it was a topic you were familiar with. You helped him form a thesis and explained some of the critical information he needed. He put quill to parchment as you verbally gave him some sentences to include. As you sat there with him, you noticed he started to form his own words on the subject and everything he was writing was accurate. He seemed to be comfortable working on his own, so you pulled out some of your own work but sat with him for moral support.

After several hours, he convinced you to take a break with him. He set aside his parchment and said, “So, Y/N. How have you been?”

“I am just peachy. Things have been going quite well for me recently.”

“Things always go your way. Your Irish blood brings you luck.”

You shrugged and said, “Is that why you wanted my help? Because I’m lucky?”

“No, it was more because you’re wicked smart. And I missed talking to you. I haven’t seen you much this year.”

“Yeah I guess it has been a while. It’s mostly because you and Fred are always working on a prank of some sort.”

“And you’re always talking to someone different, Miss Socialite.”

“Oh that is not true. I’m just friendly.”

“Sure,” he said with an eye roll.

“Any good pranks in the works?”

“Y/N,” he chucked, “I know that you’re dying to be a part of one of our infamous pranks, but I don’t think you’re qualified.”

“I think you’re underestimating me. Think about it, filling me in on a prank would be very beneficial for you.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because I’m logical and detail oriented. I think of everything, therefore there would be no chance of error. And, you know, I’m fun to be around.”

“I will agree with you on the latter part. We do need to hang out more. Outside of quidditch.”

“Well you should remember that and ask me to hang out sometime. I’m sure you’d much rather spend time with me while we’re doing something fun instead of writing an essay. And speaking of essay...” George groaned and went back to his books.

“Come on, you only have a few paragraphs left to write.” He started writing again and you looked up at the clock and noticed it was 2AM. You let out a big yawn and felt yourself become tired immediately.

“You sound tired. You should go to bed. I don’t have much left to write, I can handle it,” he said.

You shook your head and replied, “No, I’m okay. I’ll stay up with you.”

“It’s good enough as it is. I can bullshit the next few paragraphs.”

“Nope. I’m staying here. If I leave, who's to say you won’t fall asleep?”

“Yeah, fair point.”

By this time the two of you were sitting on the ground in the common room with your books sprawled out and your backs leaning against the couch, directly in front of the fireplace. You started getting cold so you grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders. As you continued your reading assignment, you kept checking in on George to make sure he was getting work done.

“How’s it going?” you asked.

“I’m just trying to get this thing done. I don’t care how good my writing is as long as I get my point across.”

“Okay,” you yawned. A moment later you found your head was resting on his left shoulder. He noticed but he didn’t seem to mind. Soon you felt your eyelids flutter over your eyes and you were out.

You woke up the next morning and found yourself in a room that was not your own. It was not the common room either. It was definitely a dorm but whose, you weren’t sure.

“Morning sunshine,” someone said. You looked up to find George’s face smiling down at you.

“Morning,” you mustered, as enthusiastically as you could. “Where am I exactly?”

“In my room. See last night you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you. I was going to carry you to your room but that wasn’t an option, with the enchantments and all. So I just took you to the next place I could think of, which was here.”

“You could have woken me up. Or just left me on the couch in the common room, you know?”

“Sure I could’ve, but you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. And the common room was a bit nippy. I just thought you’d be more comfortable in my bed.”

“Well that was very sweet of you. But where did you sleep?”

“On the floor. I grabbed some spare pillows and blankets and-”

“George! You didn’t have to sleep on the floor. You really should have just left me in the common room. I would’ve been fine. I never meant to take your bed.”

“I just wanted you to be comfortable. Any gentleman would have done the same thing. Now please stop arguing with me because there isn’t anything you can do to change it.”

You opened your mouth to say something but found you had nothing to say. Instead, you slouched and crossed your arms, clearly annoyed with his previous statement.

“How did the essay come out?”

“I showed it to Hermione already and she said it looked decent. I just need a passing grade. If I pass this, I pass the class.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize this paper was so important...”

“You did all you could. Most of it was on me, for being a slacker. But thank you. I’m really happy we got to hang out for a bit last night.”

You smiled at him. “Me too. And it’s no problem. Really.”

You left his room and headed to your room, receiving a few curious looks on the way. Last night made you realize how much you had missed George. You used to be best friends growing up, but recently you drifted apart. You were still friends, but nowhere near as close as you used to be. You only hoped he would take your advice and ask you to hang out soon.

“Y/N!” You turned around to see who was calling you. It was George and he seemed very excited about something. You excused yourself from your current conversation and headed to see George.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Oh have you?”

“Yes! Guess what?”

“Do you really want me to guess? Because I’m not a great guesser.”

“I got my paper back and I got an O!”

“O as in outstanding!? That’s amazing!”

“I owe it all to you! You practically wrote the paper for me.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You did all the heavy lifting on that paper. I was just there for moral support.”

“You really don’t understand do you? You are the reason I passed! I couldn’t have done this without you”

“I’m really happy for you George! I can’t remember the last time I saw you this excited.”

“I am over the moon!” He embraced you in a hug and picked you up off the ground and spun you around. When he finally put you down, you just smiled at him. Then the last thing you ever expected to happen happened. His face became suddenly serious and he leaned in and kissed you. It was a relatively short kiss. It seemed like he just did it without thinking because he quickly pulled back and his face was that of panic and shock.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what-” he started, before you cut him off. You grabbed his tie and pulled him down towards you to kiss him again, this time more passionately. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you reacted by snaking your arms around his neck.

George pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed.

“Well good, because you’re about to do it again.”

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x fem!reader #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley fanfic #weasley twins fanfic #george weasley one shot #hp fanfic

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rpd-rookie · 3 years

Note

After all things he saw and been through, Leon could use some rest... So how about Leon x reader on vacation in some remote, distant place, phone turned off, Hannigan banned from contacting him over new assignments? I guess it would be perfect for post-Vendetta? I don't really care it it's going to be fluff, smut or whatever - I just want him to take his time off and simply enjoy his leave, wherever he'd go. ^_~

Author’s note: Sorry about the long wait. This OS actually became so long I decided to make it a 2 or 3 chapters long fanfic. Here’s the first prt. Hoping you’ll love it.

Warning: Angst, Mention of Alcoholism and Depression, Language, Mention of sex.

Information : Y/SN = your second name

Holidays - Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader

A fresh marine breeze entered the room through the ajar French window, flapping the white muslin curtains like two small sails. It caressed his clammy naked body and a salty smell came to tickle his nose, reminding him a time when, as a kid, he used to go visit his grandparents in their small beach house in South Carolina, a time that was far gone but that he kept close to his heart. And so he sprawled on the mattress, a bit like a funny starfish, his blue eyes still shut, trying to linger in his memory and in his bed a little longer, at least until Hunnigan calls him to warn him not to be late to another umpteenth appointment with his DSO colleagues or the president. Only when he felt a delicate hand brush his hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear like his mother used to do when he was a child, and finally met a pair of gorgeous (colour) eyes did he realise two things. One, Hunnigan won’t call this morning. Two, holidays were awesome.

Part 1: THE MEETING

Scott Rossi. That was the name he had given when he had registered in this remote cottage-like hotel three days ago on the north coasts of Nova Scotia. Nothing original and probably too easy to guess – it was his father’s first name and his mother last name after all. A fake identity he had judged necessary to disappear from the DSO’s radar for a little while. He needed to be left alone. For his wellness and his sanity even though a part of him knew drinking his sorrow away wasn’t what was best for that so-called wellness he wanted back. But it was the only solution he had found to forget. Forget about New York. Forget about the car bombing in DC. Forget about that bullet he put in President Benford’s head. Forget about everything that had led him here, drinking in this bar. But the road to forgetting was hard and the escape too momentary. And the more whisky he poured in his glass to more he seemed to drown in his bottomless pit of pain and depression. “Tough day or you’re just not confident in your masculinity?” Usually, Leon would have ignored such a nosy question, the same way he would have ignored another over-curious judgy person, with characteristic stoicism. But there was something in that question, something in that voice - though he couldn’t pinpoint what - that made him look up from the amber liquid in his glass. Perhaps was it the strangeness of that question. Or perhaps was it that voice, confident and full of nerve, reminding Leon of old times, old friends, bold young agents and femme fatales. Or perhaps, was it simply because she was a woman and God knew how much Leon couldn’t ignore one, wasted or not. She was a (hair colour) with piercing (colour) eyes, wearing a long marine blue coat over a nice black dress. Elegant. Self-assured. Pretty. Very pretty … Actually too pretty to hang out in some lousy hotel bar like the one she was in right now. A city girl maybe. “Excuse me?” “The whisky. My father used to say it’s a drink for fags.” Leon’s eyes widened briefly and she added, unsettled by his surprise as if she had expected it. “But then again, my father was an asshole who didn’t know shit about anything. So tough day, huh?” Leon snickered and remained surprisingly troubled for a few second. Needless to say, he wasn’t used being caught off guard like that. “More like tough life” He finally corrected. She nodded and, unable to resist curiosity – even though she had the impression the man was certainly not the kind to easily open up to strangers - quickly went to sit closer to him bringing her tequila along with her. “I’m all ears.” “I don’t need a therapy.” His tone was curt and harsh and he took a sip of whisky looking away from her, thinking she would get the message and leave him to finish his fancy bottle of Glenfiddich in peace. But she did not move and simply waited, her observing eyes set on him as if she was trying to read his mind or something. He glanced towards her only to see her sigh and take off her coat like an insect would shed their skin, offering Leon the sight of her beautiful wasp-like body covered in black silk, a sight that didn’t leave him indifferent. After all, she had an exquisite silhouette. Curvy with a narrow waist that her skin-tight black dress could bring out with ease. “Let me guess, after fifteen years of marriage, your wife cheated on you with your best friend because you were the kind of man who lived for his job instead of his family and now he’s taking care of your kids in your own house and they call him daddy.” “Couldn’t be moooore wrong.” He had a quick laugh, not because he thought her soap opera-like story was amusing but because he actually never imagined someone would picture him married with kids. Did he look the type? He didn’t think so. “Maybe. But at least now I know you’re not married.” Leon glanced at her again, astonished by her audacity. No one had ever flirted with him that way. Though he wasn’t even sure she was flirting. “Are you sweet-talking me or something?” She shrugged her

shoulders leaving the place for any sort of answer and Leon said “You know, you could have just look at my hand.” “I did actually but I just wanted to make sure.” She had a quick seductive smile and smoothly bent towards Leon who peeped at her décolletage for a second before focusing on his drink again. “By the way, is shooting a hobby or part of your job?” Leon froze, his glass half way between the counter and his lips and stared at her. “How …” “The calluses on your fingertips. Only a shooter has that kind of hands.” He couldn’t help but be impressed and after drinking his whisky in one go, he naturally sat up straight on his stool to scrutinize her, suddenly more that interested in that mysterious girl. “You’re observant.” “Y/N actually.” She extended her hand and, after a short hesitation, he shook it with an amused smile, undeniably seduced by that cheeky attitude that suited her so well. Her skin was so soft and cold against his, he instinctively kept her hand in his to warm it up. A lovely gesture yet certainly a bit inappropriate. Either way, the girl said nothing and let him hold her hand. “I’m L… Scott. I’m Scott” He finally replied as he let go of her hand, slightly uncomfortable. “ Fine, then I’m Y/SN.” Leon frowned, his face showing a mix of confusion and amusement. “You just said your name was Y/N.” “Yeah but that was before you chose to lie.” She grimaced, emptied her shot of tequila and called the waiter with a small hand gesture to ask for a refill, not even slightly disappointed in Leon for lying. “I didn’t lie.” Not really. She put down her hand as she realised the barman, who was flirting with a man at the end of the counter, would not notice her. “Of course you did. But I’ll allow it. I guess that’s just another silly way to cope with your tough life for a night. Though, it seems it’s as useless as alcohol” She took Leon’s glass and emptied it without looking away from the agent. “I’m trying to enjoy my holidays at the fullest.” He confessed and that was the truth. “Is it working?” She placed the glass, now stained with her lipstick, in front of him and he shrugged, showing her the bottle of alcohol by his side before pouring himself another drink. “No, not really.” “Thought so.”

She took the whisky again, this time from Leon’s hand but he did not protest. He didn’t care about that damn liquor. He could definitely afford another bottle. The company however … He knew he would never find another girl like the one sitting next to him. “So, Y/N. What are you doing here?” He asked, his eyes fixed upon her face. “Who’s Y/N?” She replied with a cheeky wink and Leon smiled and chuckled. It hadn’t done that in a while. “Are we really gonna play this lie the whole night?” Part of him hoped so. There was something endearing and refreshing in that little game, the same way there was something terribly irresistible in that girl. “You wanna spend the whole night with me? Who told you I was that kind of girl?” She harrumphed, hand over her heart like an amazingly lame actress, an overly dramatic gesture that was certainly intended. “You’re impossible.” Leon confessed but there was no hint of criticism or annoyance, quite the opposite. He was actually having fun drinking here with that girl he didn’t know. “No. I’m just a girl pretending to be someone she’s not – aka Y/SN - talking to a man named Scott who just lost his wife and kids to his best friend.” “Not just his wife and kids, his dog too. A beagle. Poppy.” She laughed, getting the tiny nod to John Wick and he looked glad that she did. “And what’s Y/SN’s backstory?” “I found yours. You could at least found mine.” She retorted and let him think. And for a second, as she stared at him scratching his stubble, finding him insanely handsome, she realised he hadn’t touch his drink in a small while. Good. “Y/SN is a college student with unresolved daddy issues trying to get the attention of a man possibly twice her age to cope with the fear of abandonment his father left her with when he left her and her mom.” “Was Dad an alcoholic?” She declared on purpose, just to see if the word would trigger his desire to drink. It incredibly did not. “Might explain why you’re so interested in a loser like me.”

She stayed the whole night with him. Talking. Playing. Flirting in ways only she could do. Creating an undeniable connection, a sharp sexual tension that only a man deprived of all senses would have missed. She gave him a signal (if not more) with her eyes, called him with her lips. And he responded with a similar technique, a similar enthusiasm. And at the end of the night, when she got up from her stool and kissed him goodbye, right at the corner of his lips, she realised she could potentially spend the hottest night of her life if she chose to lead him in her room. After all, it was no secret for either of them. She wanted to fuck him and he wanted to fuck her. But a part of her decided to play hard to get, decided that this night would be a sweet game, a foreplay in their roleplay. And luckily for her, he was a player. Just like her.

#Leon Kennedy #leon s kennedy #fanfic #request #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader

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kalimagik · 4 years

Text

As Family the First Time

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Includes storyline of “A Hogwarts Mystery”

Word Count: ~4K

A/N: Here is the Charlie post that I promised you all! I already wrote it, so it was easy for me to edit and such just to upload. If you enjoy reading, like, reblog, comment, or give me a follow! I have a few requests that I will get to writing, but I’m away for the week, so I will write them when I get back home! (Don’t you worry! I got some good ones too!) I’m also starting to edit my long fic that will be a Harry Potter Series! So be on the look out! Happy reading, loves! <3<3 P.S. I didn’t really have time to edit this, so I apologize 😅

“Are you sure you want to do this, love? It’s always so crazy at home.” Charlie questioned as the couple prepared for their journey from Romania to England.

“Charlie, I’ve told you a million times. I can totally handle your family. I’d been there a few times during our school years. Plus, at school, I spent time like half of your siblings anyways! Bill was there for our first 5 years and one of my good friends. Percy was Percy. And I even befriended the twins! I can totally handle this. Why do you doubt me?” Y/N laughed, tossing a sweater into her suitcase.

“Okay, you got me there, but it’s gotten even crazier. Ronald’s friends are almost always there and the twins have gotten even more chaotic since their first two years at school!”

“Charlie, do you not want me to meet your family as your girlfriend or something?”

“Yes– I mean, no. I just like to have you for a little more to myself in that aspect.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. She’d been in Charlie’s house during school and they’d gone on the craziest adventures while Y/N broke all the cursed vaults. She’d been very close to following in Bill’s steps as a Curse-Breaker, but was pulled towards dragons after practically raising a Welsh Green and visiting the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary with Bill on assignment. They were magnificent creatures.

Now, she didn’t work with them like Charlie did. The boy was constantly covered in cuts, bruises, scars, and burns from working so closely with the dragons. Y/N on the other hand observed and took notes and did research surrounding all of the different ones. However, there was one dragon that both of the dragonologists shared a bond with. The dragon that Ron wrote to Charlie about, Norbert or Norbertta, adored Y/N. Maybe since she was raised by Hagrid, she was a little better with humans, but she loved Y/N.

She’d laid some eggs and Y/N got to watch the entire process close up. It was a dragonologists DREAM!

Anyways, once Y/N and Charlie found themselves at the same dragon sanctuary, they reconnected. They’d always been good friends in school and maybe, there’d been a little spark between them, but they never dated or anything. Just an intense amount of tension in their last 2 years. It drove Bill mad because he wasn’t around enough to push them together.

But, here they were. 4 years out of school and they finally started dating, but for the first year and a half, they hadn’t gotten around to telling either of the families yet, so Christmas was the best time, right? That’s why they were packing, Charlie told his family that Y/N had moved to Romania and that her family wasn’t going to be around. And seeing as how she had holiday time at Christmas as well, Molly immediately invited her to their home at the Burrow.

“It’s about 4:30. The portkey is going to leave soon, so we should get going,” Y/N smiled, zipping up her bag and pressing a kiss to Charlie’s lips to get him moving.

“Now is your last chance to stay here, love. I’d of course stay with you and we could just make a family of our own!” he beamed.

Y/N couldn’t stop the loud laugh that erupted from the back of her throat. “WOAHHH! Slow your roll there. We haven’t even thought about an engagement yet!”

“Okay, maybe not, but who says we’ve ever done things in the right order? I mean, I kissed you before you even knew if you liked me or not.”

“True, but a kiss and a baby are two very, very different things,” Y/N giggled. “Now, common, we’ve got a portkey to catch!”

The couple made it to the location of the portkey where about 7 other witches and wizards were travelling to England. Once they reached England, they would then apparate to the Burrow. Simple.

“Okay, please grab onto the boot, it will be leaving in three…two…one!”

The pulling right behind her navel was never something she could get used to, but once landing in England, she’d gotten the hang of landing on her feet.

“I will never like those things,” she shuttered, picking up her bags. “Not when Rakepick took us on one and not now!”

“Really, I think it feels like riding a dragon! It’s blood brilliant!”

Y/N rolled her eyes, preparing herself for yet another uncomfortable experience as they prepared to apparate.

Regaining her balance once again, Y/N looked down the hill to see the Burrow standing brightly in all of its glory.

“I’m telling ya, this is your absolute last chance. We can always snag a room in London and spend the holidays there.”

“Charlie, why do you not want for me not to spend time with your family?”

“Not you, I’m just slightly selfish. I know the second we walk in, my mother is going to feed us. Bill is going to want to catch up. Ginny just loves having you around more than Fleur, so she’ll be right there. Fred and George will want to show you what they’ve been working on or flirt with you because they don’t realize you’re dating their handsome older brother and couldn’t care less about any age difference. They just see you as the badass girl who mum should’ve despised for all the danger Bill and I got into, but didn’t. Ron isn’t as much of an issue because the boy is in teenage moods according to mum. Although, if Harry and Hermione are there, he should be okay.” Charlie rambled on about his family.

“We’ll be here for at least two weeks, so if they take me from you for an evening or two, it’ll be completely fine. Oh look, it seems that they have seen us. Do you want to tell them we’re dating now or what?”

Charlie took in a deep breath trying to decide, but it didn’t have a chance to respond before Arthur, Bill, Fred, and George were calling out to them.

“I’ll find the right moment, don’t you worry,” he whispered. “Dad! Brothers!” he smiled, opening his arms.

“I’ll hug Y/N first!” one of the twins yelled.

“Fred! I called the first hug!” George quickly interjected.

“I do have the capabilities of hugging two people at once,” Y/N chuckled, opening her arms for both twins, who seemed to have doubled in size since the last time she’d seen them. “When did you two double my height?”

“Oh you know, a lot changes when you move off to Romania. Freddie and I have matured,” George informed her, straightening his coat.

“That’s not what mum’s last letter said. I heard you two blew up a bathroom. I bet McGonagall had a heart attack.”

“Charlie, we used to sneak off school grounds on a regular basis for dangerous adventures. She didn’t have a heart attack because of us.”

“Good point. Also, don’t talk about all that in front of Ron and his friends. Mum would kill me if I gave them any ideas. They put themselves in regular danger too, so I hear.”

“Yes, uh, no ideas would be excellent,” Mr. Weasley echoed. “Now, Y/N, how are you doing?”

“Dad, you took my question!” Bill smiled, coming in for a hug.

“I’m doing well. Hagrid’s dragon’s eggs just hatched and Norbertta has let me get near them. It’s been SO exciting!” Y/N smiled.

“Missing curse breaking at all?” Bill asked.

“I would say that I’m enjoying the quiet life, but like with dragons isn’t exactly quiet,” she laughed.

“So are we going to stay out here talking all night or are we going to head inside? I mean, Y/N/N and I are used to camping, but I was promised a warm bed,” Charlie pointed out.

“Right you are, Charlie! Fred, George, can you take their bags please. Y/N will be going to Ginny’s room. We’ll be a tight fit, but we’ll make it work. We always do.” Arthur instructed.

“Oh, dad, Y/N can sleep in my room. She doesn’t need to sleep on a cot. I’ll bunk with Bill.”

The two lived with each other already, so it would be weird to be in a room by herself for a few weeks. Who knows though, maybe if Charlie told about them being together,

“Is Fleur here, Bill?” Charlie asked on the way down to the house. Y/N walked beside him, so Charlie had to resist the urge to take her hand in his.

“She went back to France for the holidays. Wanted me to come with her, but when I heard you were coming home, I decided to hang back. Haven’t seen my closest brother in a while, not to mention one of my best friends from school,” Bill winked at Y/N.

“I’m excited to be back in England! I just wish my parents and brother would have decided to stick around. We could’ve gone to see them too!”

“We?” Bill asked, eyebrows raised, but a smirk on his face.

Y/N bit her lip. Shit. Little did she know that Charlie had spilled the beans to Bill months ago, making him promise not to say anything to anyone.

“Brace yourselves, Mum has been looking forward to this since you wrote home, Charlie,” Bill said, keeping the door open behind Arthur.

“Y/N! Charlie!”

The pair was hit by the warmth of the Burrow and Molly making her way around the table to them.

“I’m so happy you got here safe! PERCY! RONALD! GINNY! HERMIONE! HARRY! Y/N and Charlie are here! Dinner will be on soon!” Molly called right before wrapping her arms around Charlie and then Y/N.

“We’re so happy to have you hear, dear! I cannot believe your family decided to go on holiday over Christmas. No matter, we’re happy to have you back in our house. I don’t think you’ve been here since 3rd year! It’s been far too long.”

“I think 3rd year is when Bill brought Merula and I back for Christmas, but I saw you guys when Bill graduated from Hogwarts and when Charlie and I did,” Y/N thought back.

“Still, far too long! Ah, Ginny, come say hello!” Molly motioned over.

“Y/N! You’re here!”

Y/N opened her arms wide for the young red head. She was in her 2nd year already and Y/N couldn’t believe it. She’d always gotten along with Ginny. She saw a lot of herself and her spirit in Ginny.

“Hey squirt! How have you been! How’s school?”

“It’s fine. Been crazy all year as usual, but I’m happy you’re here!”

“Hogwarts is always unusual! Always was for Bill, Charlie, and I. Lots of adventure to be found in that place.”

“Hello, Y/N. Good to see you again.” Percy said formally.

“Hello, Percy. How is your last year at Hogwarts?”

“Busy. There’s been a lot going on!”

Before Y/N could respond, they heard Ron’s voice coming from the top of the stairs.

“Mum, did you say Charlie was home?” Ron asked, footsteps being followed by 2 other pairs.

“Yes, dear!”

“You’ll love Charlie,” Y/N heard Ron tell his friends. “And…Y/N’s here too,” he suddenly stopped at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide.

Harry bounded down, running right into him. “Ow! Ron, why’d you stop?”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle. Ron never seemed to know what to say around her.

“I’m Charlie.” He held his hand out to Harry and Hermione. “And this is Y/N. He went to school with me. She was in Y/H, not like it really matters though. She was the bloody best curse breaker Hogwarts has ever seen.”

“Hey!” Bill played offended.

Knowing what it felt like to be all anyone can talk about, Y/N did her best to remain normal around the Boy Who Lived, even though she couldn’t believe what he had been through already in his short life.

“Hi! It’s so lovely to meet you. Charlie has told me all about you two from Ron and his mum’s letters.” The two 3rd years shook her hand too.

“Dinner’s on! Everyone to the table please,” Molly said as plates flew from the cabinets to the table.

“Y/N, you can sit next to me here!” Fred hollered from down the table.

“Oi! She can sit here,” George retorted across the table.

“Knock it off.” Y/N could tell that Charlie’s voice was deepening, almost as if he was getting angry. He did say that he hadn’t wanted her to be taken away by his family. “She’s going to sit next to me, alright?”

Y/N did her best to conceal her laughter. It was always amusing when he got like this. Not to mention, Y/N then never had to do any teasing.

“I think I'd like to sit with Ginny. If anyone wanted to know what I would like,” Y/N laughed, walking towards her little friend. “We have a lot to catch up on! But, you can come sit beside me, if you’d like, Charlie.” She giggled.

Dinner went well. Ginny told Y/N all about what she’d been learning, who she hung around, which professors were her favorite, and how she loved Hogwarts. The twins went on about the best pranks that they had pulled since the last time they saw her. Y/N heard from Ron’s friend Hermione a little bit. She was as sweet as could be, but definitely a bright witch. She of course caught up with Bill. They still wrote to each other, but not as often as they had before.

But, when Molly stood up to clear the table, Y/N’s attention broke away.

“Oh, let me help you with that, Mrs. Weasley,” she offered.

“No, no! Sit down. You’ve traveled so much today. Bill and the other boys can help me. Ginny will show you her room, so you can get settled in.”

“Oh, mum, I told Y/N that she could stay in my room. I’ll bunk with Bill. There are already enough people in Ginny’s room. She should get some privacy,” Charlie responded.

“Fine, fine. Ginny, show Y/N where Charlie’s room is. Boys, will one of you get her bags?”

“No worries, Mrs. Weasley! I can get them myself! Thank you though,” Y/N smiled, picking up her two small duffle bags. “Lead the way, Squirt!” Y/N smiled at Ginny. Red spread onto her cheeks as she turned towards the stairs. What had Y/N said?

Y/N followed the red headed girl up the stairs to the 4th floor. A green dragon painted on the door.

“I’m guessing this is Charlie’s?”

“Uh huh!” Ginny beamed, her usual persona returning. “Want me to help you unpack your things?”

“Sure! Lead the way in!”

Ginny sat on the bed while Y/N took things out of her bags. She could sense that she wanted to say something, but didn’t know what to say, so Y/N started instead.

“Do you not like it when I call you ‘Squirt’ anymore, Gin?”

“Oh, no, no, no! I just uhhh….”

Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Ginny asked. “A secret that you won’t tell anyone else?”

“Of course! I promise I won’t say it to anybody,” Y/N smiled, sitting on the bed across from Ginny.

“I sort of, kind of have a crush on Harry. And when you called me squirt, I remembered that he was there and it probably made him look at me!” Ginny blurted out, like she’d been just waiting to tell someone.

“Squirt, you’re shaking! It’s okay to have a crush! Everyone has them.”

“Even you?”

“Yes, even me,” Y/N smiled, hoping she was calming the girl down.

“Who?”

Well, Y/N wasn’t expecting that.

“Can you keep a secret too?” Ginny nodded vigorously. “I have a crush on Charlie…”

Ginny’s eyes grew wide. Ugh, gossiping with a 13 year old was fun.

“Really? Charlie? I think you two could work. I mean, don’t tell him, but he’s had a crush on you for a long time.”

Y/N giggled, feeding into Ginny’s antics. “Oh really? How long?”

“I think he had one on you ever since he heard you fought the Hungarian Horntail. And then, when you went to the Dragon Sanctuary the first time, Charlie said you weren’t scared at all. I think he was mesmerized. You should tell him,” Ginny giggled.

“Wanna know another secret?” Y/N whispered.

“Another one?!”

“Well, it has to do with the same one. Want to hear it?” Ginny nodded. Hanging on to every word. “I did tell him,” Y/N smiled.

“You did? What happened?”

“We’ve been dating for a year and a half,” Y/N whispered, as though someone would be listening in.

“REALLY?!” Ginny squealed. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

“I don’t know. We are just always in Romania and haven’t really seen anyone. It was fun being in our own little world. No one else in the world to worry about, you know?”

Ginny’s smile was huge! She was so excited she was nearly trembling. “Are you going to tell everyone? Is that why he said you could sleep in his room?” Ginny was blurting out questions left and right.

“We were going to tell everyone during this trip, but I don’t know when. I sorta left that up to Charlie.”

*Knock, knock, knock*

“How’s unpacking going?” Charlie asked, opening the door.

“Half done!” Y/N laughed, looking at her unpacked bags.

“What have you two been doing all this time?”

“Just chatting,” Y/N responded, a twinkle in her eye.

“Yeah, just chatting,” Ginny smirked, still not containing her excitement.

“Alright, Squint, what’s going on with you?”

“Y/N told me a secret and I can’t tell anyone else. She made me promise…”

“Oh, did she now?” Charlie asked, moving his focus to Y/N’s grinning figure.

“You can tell him, Gin. He’s in on the secret!”

Ginny essentially combusted. “YOU AND Y/N ARE DATING!” she yelled.

“Wooooah, Squirt. I said you could tell him, not the whole house!” Y/N laughed.

“Sorry,” Ginny blushed.

“Alright, now get outta here. I wanna talk to my girlfriend,” Charlie cooed. Ginny couldn’t stop giggling as she hopped off the bed and out the door, shutting it behind her.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Y/N laughed, picking one of her duffle bags off the ground.

“You blabbed!”

“Oh? I blabbed? How about the fact that you’ve definitely told Bill. I made the ‘we’ comment and he didn’t even question it! Don’t think I didn’t figure it out!”

“But you told Ginny. What would possess you to tell Ginny? She’s always been the blabbermouth!”

“No way she’s worse than Fred and George,” Y/N spit back.

“Okay, no, they’re worse. But you saw how she was when I walked in, she couldn’t keep it to herself.”

“Yeah, she also mentioned how you were mesmerized by me after we went to the Dragon Sanctuary for the first time,” Y/N winked. She watched as his freckles disappeared with the color of red growing on his cheeks.

“See, what did I tell ya! So, why did you tell her?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret!” Y/N turned her nose up.

“She’s got a crush on Harry, doesn’t she?”

“How do you know?”

“Mum’s thought so since they first met. Ginny can barely say two words around him. It’s hilarious!”

“Don’t be mean! First crushes are hard!” Y/N slapped Charlie on the wrist.

“Tell me about it!” he rolled his eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“I had a crush on you since 2nd year and you had no idea. So obviously, the other person can be quite oblivious,” Charlie laughed, thinking back on it.

“I was not oblivious! I just wasn’t thinking about that. I was kind of busy avoiding being killed, remember?” Y/N pointed out.

“Oh no way! You went on your first date with Barnaby in our 4th year. And everyone had a crush on you!”

“Okay, but that was in school. Look who ended up with me, huh? Huh?” Y/N tried to direct him away from school time memories.

“True. I did get pretty lucky that you didn’t follow Bill into his job. I’d be so lost now!”

“Lost? More like dead. You’d have gone and tried to tame the meanest dragon in the place. Really, your family should be thanking me!”

“I don’t know. That could be payback for putting Bill and I in so much danger during school…”

“Merlin! I don’t think your mum ever blamed me for that. She still invited me for Christmas every year, no matter how much danger we were in…”

“mhmmmmmm, you may be right.”

“Should we go back downstairs?” Y/N asked.

“Wait, but I came all the way up here and haven’t kissed you yet!” Charlie pouted.

“Fineeee,” Y/N groaned before giggling. He was still pouting when she quickly pecked his lips and pulled away.

“Woah, woah, woah! I was thinking maybe a little more, maybe?” Charlie begged.

“Charlie, we’re in your childhood bedroom with your family downstairs.” She felt bad looking into his sad chocolate eyes. Ugh, why was he so cute?

“Uh, Charlie?”

“One more?”

“Do you think Ginny’s spilled the beans yet?”

Charlie’s eyes grew double the size. “We need to go.”

Y/N tried to stifle her laughter as Charlie pulled her down the stairs, going way faster than she was.

“Charlie! I’m going to fall over!”

“We have to make sure she hasn’t told them yet! I’m not ready!” Charlie shot out.

“Not ready to tell us what, brother?”

The pair came face to face with essentially the entire Weasley family, including Harry and Ron.

“I was just preparing to give everyone dessert,” Mrs. Weasley said, putting down a plate of food.

“Mum! Don’t change the subject. What do you have to tell us, Charlie?” George pushed, following the suite of his twin.

“Yeah Charlie, what do you have to tell them?” Y/N teased, standing right beside him and grabbing onto his hand.

“No!” Ron’s mouth dropped open.

“Merlin’s beard!” Fred spat out.

“Are you two…together?” George asked, big eyed.

“And I already knew it and didn’t say anything!” Ginny added in proudly.

“I hadn’t even said yes or no, squint. Thanks for the help.”

Y/N felt the grin on her face grow as she watched the interaction between a family that she adored so much. “Want to tell them then?” she pushed.

“Fine,” Charlie groaned. “Y/N and I have been dating.”

“Have been?” Bill scoffed.

“Oh, sod off. I told you like 2 weeks after it started! Don’t give me that grief!”

“This isn’t new?” George wondered.

“It’s been about a year and a half!” Ginny stated proudly, smiling at Y/N who nodded in return.

“A YEAR AND A HALF!?” 4 voices, one being Mrs. Weasley said in unison.

“Well, how did this all happen?” Mrs. Weasley now smiling rushed forward, pulling Y/N into a second hug for the night. “You’re with my boy. Oh thank goodness. I was really starting to worry that one day he was going to bring home a dragon!”

“Gee, thanks mum.” Charlie sarcastically replied.

“Well, tell us what happened,” Mr. Weasley encouraged. “You won’t get any peace and quiet until you tell this lot the story.”

“Yeah, not even I got the full story!” Ginny giggled, pulling out a chair for Y/N.

“Wait, wait, wait. Y/N. You mean to tell me that you have kissed our brother? The brother that has been in love with dragons since I was born and that used to dress our owl up as a dragon?” Fred asked, disgusted.

“What? He’s passionate,” she giggled.

“EWWW!” the twins replied at the same time.

“Wait,” Ron piped up, “you’re saying that you two just hang out all the time in Romania, working together and seeing each other…after work?”

“Well….actually….” Y/N dragged on, looking over to Charlie.

“We live together,” he grinned broadly for the first time since his family started grilling them.

“LIVE TOGETHER! Y/N no way. He isn’t even that great!” George blurted.

“I think he’s pretty fantastic actually,” Y/N blushed as Charlie stood behind her chair, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“Oh, Fred, George, be quiet. Let them tell their story! We want to know everything! Common, common! Everyone sit down. Have some dessert. Listen to Y/N and Charlie!” Mrs. Weasley commanded.

The room quieted and all eyes were on the newly outed couple.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Y/N asked Charlie.

“I like it better when you tell it, love,” Charlie grinned, kissing Y/N’s forehead.

Ignoring the groans from the boys, Y/N began to tell the story with Charlie interrupting way too often to add in details. Y/N didn’t say anything because it was just so cute how he did it. But, it turned out to be a really wonderful first evening of an even better two weeks. It was really just a great time to be back in England.

#kalimagik #new fic #harry potter #hp fandom #hphm #hphm charlie weasley #harry potter x reader #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #ron weasley x reader #weasley family #draco malfoy x reader #charlie weasley fluff #cute and fluffy #fluff #the burrow #weasleys

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moony-marvuders · 3 years

Text

monster [ professor!lupin x hufflepuff!reader]

1/?

intro

y/n l/n, a spectacularly odd, and scared witch, with gifted abilities, is now orphaned upon the murder of her Mother and Father, and has come to live with her Godfather, Rubeus Hagrid. Despite her lack of knowledge, and never being properly trained, Dumbledore feels as though she has a right to be taught, just the same as anyone else/

pairing : professor! lupin x hufflepuff!reader

warnings: age gap, trauma, Orphaned Reader, female pronouns, insinuation of death and violence, student/teacher relationship.

- Reader is written as 18 in the timeline, and isn’t underage, there for there’s no reason to get dramatic about the pairing. There is also no insinuation of s*xual relations (only romantic) as I myself am asexual, and that would be taking this type of pairing a bit too far. Secondly, timeline is a little confusing, the reader is infact taking year 3 classes, and you will find out why as you read forward. Anyway, if you don’t enjoy, the content, simply ignore it.

( And if you would like a second part, request. request. request.)

The sky begins to darken above as you and Hagrid walked back to the castle grounds from Hogsmeade Village. The air cooling around you, with a whisk of the autumn wind. Your Godfather, leading you through the castle grounds, and around the lake, to where your new home would be. It’s painfully quiet, as the students wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow, not something that neither of you particularly enjoy. The sound of silence.

“ Yer new home is right around ere” He points as you approach to a painfully small hut. It’s made of old stone, it looks warned down, almost ancient, as if it was going to fall apart. You’re surprised at the sight, it looking from the outside to be too small for a man of your Godfathers size. Though this was Hogwarts, anything was seemingly possible. “It’s lovely.” You halfly lie, only thankful to have a home to call your own, after everything that’s happened, you still had somewhere to go, only some dream to have just as much, if not less than that.

It had been years since you had been on these grounds and seen your Godfather. Years since you were meant to go to Hogwarts, and fulfill your magical destiny, but everything had been ruined. Your family gone, your childhood taken away, along with most of your happiest memories.

He opens the wooden door, revealing a cozy home within. You know you had been here before, long ago, but the memory was gone, any recollection of it belongs to the overwhelming sadness deep within you, the memories of what happened to your parents holding a tight grip around your heart. You stood still within the doorway as Hagrid, walked inside. He turned back around, halting the haunting thoughts.

“ Are yeh comin’ in? Yer lettin’ in a draft!” And with that, your new life began.

“ So I’m going to be the first there?” You questioned, gathering all you needed, to stay at the dorms. Despite having Hagrid’s to live at, he and Dumbledore suggested it would be useful to stay within a dorm, to gather the real experience of Hogwarts. But you thought it to be a way around telling anybody you were in fact Hagrid’s God Daughter, perhaps they didn’t want anybody thinking oddly of you.

“ Yeh, but it won’t be long before there ere” You sighed, walking among the front doors.

Only time could tell when they would be here, and when you would have to be sorted. Flashbacks to your Father and Mother crossed your mind, the two of them being an odd pair of lovers at that, considering the houses they had been sorted into.

Your Mother was a cunning Slytherin, filled with power and a strive for greatness, though despite her temperament, she was the nicest woman some had ever met, she was unnaturally kind for such a reputation, but only to those whom she really could trust, one of the people being your Father. Your Father was just as filled with power as she, only he was more selfless, more brave. A Gryffindor in his truest right. Despite their differences, and the wedge between them of Pureblood and Muggleborn magic, they seemed to defy all odds when together. Truly a mystery.

The great hall was huge, candles floating amongst the numerous house tables, all filled with empty cutlery and plates. Your Father had spoken of this moment numerous of times, what it would look like, how it would happen. But now that you were here, the spark of what once was hope and magic was washed out, dimming the more you thought of it. You couldn’t picture your Father’s smile anymore when thinking of him talking with so much joy, only flashes of horrendous memories, that of a wooded forest, and blood, lots of blood, pooling around your feet.

You felt a firm hand on your back, causing you to jump to turn around, greeted with the familiar face of Dumbledore, whom had been the person to bring you here, from your parents home. You smiled, warmly at the wise and kind man in front of you, “Excited?” He asked, as the other Professors walked along the middle, going to grab their respective seats before the sorting ceremony and feast. “ Excited, but more nervous if anything Headmaster. “ You chew on the inside of your cheek. You would probably be the only Seventh year to be sorted, the only Seventh year to not be in any of the same classes as the rest of your year. It was all so humiliating, and yet you still had some hope, an ounce of faith and true gratitude that you were even aloud among the school.

“ Nothing to be scared of dear y/n. This is the right place for you.” You couldn’t help to hold your trust within his voice, as you watched him give you another warm smile, before heading to the front table, joining the rest of the staff.

You stood at the back of the room, awaiting for the first years to arrive last. Not wanting to walk with them, too scared you’d be judged and ridiculed for being the oldest to be sorted. Your parents had bravery, so much of it to spare, and yet you didn’t feel an ounce of bravery, perhaps ever. You weren’t brave now, and you weren’t brave when they had been killed. Perhaps the sorting hat wouldn’t know what to do with you and they would have to throw you out, you thought. You weren’t brave or cunning like your Mother and Father, nor smart like a Ravenclaw. Perhaps a Hufflepuff, but you weren’t overjoyed with happiness, always smiling at everybody either. You felt like you were nothing. The girl who had to sit there, and watch the two people she loved the most die, and just let them, out of fear. Why had you been accepted into Hogwarts if you were simply;

nothing.

As everybody settled in to The Great Hall, Dumbledore stood above everyone within the room. Describing how the Sorting Hat would work, and that when You had been sorted, to go to your assigned table.

“ Now!” He spoke loudly, “ Before we begin with the first years. We have a certain Seventh Year who needs sorting! y/n y/l/n?!” He called out for you, eyes across the hall, looking for whom he must be talking to. He called again and before you could process it fully, you began walking up to the front, and through the crowd of new students.

You sat down with hesitation within the chair, eyes closed as you did so, too scared to look into the eyes of your peers. The hat was lowered upon your head gently. It began to speak to you, as if it had been a person, knowing every little detail within your head.

“ Interesting, very interesting. You’re a bit confusing aye? Your Mother was a Slytherin, correct? Your Father though.,,.he was a Gryffindor? What an odd pairing.. hmmm... But you... you don’t have these qualities- you’re different. A bit odd, not quite academic, but knowledge lies within your heart. There’s something strong about you- You’re loyal, patient, un-judgemental- you seek no power, only a sense of justice, and of love.. Yes I see it now... HUFFLEPUFF!!!”

In that moment you couldn’t help but wear a small smile, and open your eyes, watching as the Hufflepuff table greated you with graceful, happy cheers.

After the sorting, and after everyone had sat within their respective seats, Dumbledore rose once again to the front, before the feast was to begin.

“Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Now, I'd like to say a few words... before we all become too befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I'm pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin....who's kindly consented to fill the post... of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Good luck, Professor.”

A Professor stood to his feet humbly, barely standing straight, almost being overwhelmed with the clapping the was brought by the mentioning of him. You couldn’t help but to notice, the long scars amongst his face, some of them quite fresh, some scarred so deep, that they would never leave. You couldn’t help but think to yourself whom had hurt him, or specifically what. If he knew anything about The Dark Arts, he must have encountered dangerous things quite often.

He softly bowed, his hands clasped together, before sitting back down within his seat. Your eyes rarely left where he had sat, still pondering within thought.

( I hope you enjoyed this first part of this fic! If there’s anything specific you want to see, or perhaps any ideas for this, I’m always open to criticism and creative help! Also request anything you would like within my inbox, I adore requests.)

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #remus john lupin #remus lupin #professor lupin #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #hogwarts #moony x reader

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