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#making sure he stayed to hear since he’d heard earlier in the morning that I was going to sing
kyriathanatos · 9 months
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I can’t stop thinking of a moment from my disco playthrough. A confirmed bug in the dialogue, and yet it meant so much to me…
that morning I had decided I was going to belt out my soul in karoke that night, and through the events of the day, I ended up having to send Kim away that night with the body from the fridge. So, after he was gone, I dressed like a man possessed by a gay theatre troupe and let out the perfect rendition of the saddest song in the whole world. “The smallest church in saint saëns” And I dedicated it to my partner, “Kim Kitsuragi, who isn’t here right now”
Later on, at the end of the story, as my previous partner grilled me on the case, Kim remarked that I sung very well that night… much to his own dismay
And I can’t stop thinking about that. Maybe he hadn’t left yet. Maybe he was having his nightly smoke by his kineema before he left with the body. Maybe he heard the music kick on as he was leaving, and watched from the door. Or from the window,
But he listened. He heard my song. He decided to stop and hear it. He listened to Harry belt out his soul. And that really sticks with me, bug or not.
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navybrat817 · 6 months
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How does Bucky handle you being sick? 🥺
I may have gone overboard, nonnie. 😂
Sick Day
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you get a cold. He also takes care of the guy who may have given you a cold.
Word Count: Over 2.4k
Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, reader has a cold, implied smut, interrogation, Bucky Barnes being a ridiculously wonderful boyfriend in love (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I don't know where this came from. Maybe a bit of inspiration from @inklore here. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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When you had a hard time getting out of bed this morning due to a cold you caught at work, you tried to brush it off. Bucky immediately called in to take a personal day and said he had to take care of you, which forced you to take a sick day as well. It was for the best. You had a tendency to push yourself past your limit some days and he kept you in check.
You snatched a tissue out of the box beside you just in time to sneeze into it. With a pained groan, you scrunched up your face and dropped the tissue into the small pile in your lap. It took you a moment to sip your water, followed by your herbal tea. Though your throat was sore, you had to stay hydrated. You also had to get some rest.
Bucky wouldn’t let you hear the end of it if you didn’t.
“I hate this,” you mumbled to yourself before your boyfriend rushed into the living room to check on you, his piercing eyes searching the room as if to assess a threat.
“I heard you talking, baby. You need to rest your voice,” he said, adjusting the humidifier he set on the coffee table before his concerned gaze snapped back to you. “Wait. Do you need something? Do you not have enough blankets? I can get you more tea. Or I can put something on TV. Shit, where’s the writing pad?”
You tried not to smile as the massive shirtless supersoldier bustled around the room. He hadn’t seen you under the weather since the two of you started dating and you should’ve known he’d make a big deal out of it. Whether it had to do with growing up with Steve who dealt with all sorts of ailments or simply because it was his girlfriend feeling less than stellar, you weren’t sure. Either way, it was endearing to see the former Winter Soldier worked up over you.
He had nothing to worry about though.
“I’m fine,” you croaked before you went into a coughing fit.
Bucky’s eyes widened as he crouched beside you and brought the water back to your lips once you had yourself under control. His brows furrowed when he checked your forehead with his right hand, which made you fall in love with him a little more. You tried to tell him earlier to keep his distance so he didn’t get sick before he gently reminded you that he wasn’t exactly prone to catching colds thanks to the serum.
A silver lining from the pain he had to go through.
“You’re not fine. You’re sick. Well, you’re still 'fine',” he smiled a little, making your heart swell. “I used that in the right context, didn’t I?”
You almost went into another coughing fit as you giggled, the sound huskier and deeper than normal. “Only you would think I’m fine when I’m like this,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through his silky chestnut hair. He hadn’t brushed it today. Too busy taking care of you. “And I’m not ‘sick’ sick. it’s just a cold.”
“It isn’t just a cold. Not to me,” he said, his jaw clenching as his vibranium fingers curled.
“I’ll be better before you know it,” you assured him, raising an eyebrow as his cheek twitched. “What’s the matter?”
Why is he getting himself worked up?
“I just don’t like you feeling any kind of pain,” he said, leaning up so he could press his lips to your forehead. He huffed as they lingered there. “I wish I could take it away and I can’t.”
It was a sweet sentiment, especially after everything he went through.
“I know you would if you could and it’s okay that you can’t,” you said. You understood where he was coming from though because you didn’t like the idea of him in pain either. He had a heart almost as large as his body and you were lucky to get a single ounce of his love. “Don’t worry, okay?”
“You’re my girl and it's impossible not to worry,” he said, a touch of possession and tenderness seeping into his tone. Belonging to him was as natural as breathing. “But I'll try to relax a bit.”
“As long as you try,” you said as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.
Your head tingled from his lips before you frowned. This close, you could usually get a whiff of his woodsy cologne. Your eyes welled up when you inhaled again and couldn’t smell him, doing your best to blink the tears away so he wouldn't catch them. It was silly that you suddenly missed the comfort of that smell because your nose was acting up.
He didn’t need your tears on top of that.
But, of course, he caught your sad sniffle, which sounded slightly different from your cold sniffle. His body stiffened, like a cobra ready to strike. “Tell me what’s wrong, even if I can’t physically fix it.”
God, I love this man.
“I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I really miss the smell of your cologne,” you told him, your gaze probably nothing short of pathetic as you tilted your head to see his handsome face.
Your breath caught when he looked back at you and brushed a tear away with his thumb. There was nothing but love and adoration in those brilliant eyes of his. It made you feel lighter.
“That’s far from ridiculous because I smell amazing,” he teased, bumping his nose against yours to bring a smile to your face. “How about I spray the blankets after you take a nap and I make you some soup? That way my scent will be there even if you can't smell it.”
Tears clogged your throat as you gave him a nod, committing the moment to memory. You were used to going it alone before he came into your life. He couldn’t take the pain away, but he could make you feel better in ways that mattered to you. That likely comforted him just as much as it soothed you.
“That would be great,” you said, yawning a bit. “Can we watch a movie after my nap?”
“We'll watch whatever you want.”
You pulled him close so he could join you on the couch, knowing that his muscular and warm frame against yours would feel just as comforting and safe as the blanket that covered you. And he relaxed and quickly accepted your wordless invitation to wrap his arms around you, keeping you in his loving embrace. It was home and always would be.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, closing your eyes as you nuzzled your head against his bare chest. “I love you.”
“I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, his vibranium hand moving in slow circles along your back as you began to drift off. “I love you, too.”
You let out a happy moan before you said one more thing. “And hunt down the person who gave me this cold, okay?”
With your eyes shut, you didn’t see the determination written all over his face. “You got it, baby.”
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You were right as rain and back to work a couple of days later, thanks to Bucky caring for you and some much needed rest. Not even an hour into your shift though, Steve requested for you to meet him in the second lower level. You didn't hide your surprise as that was usually reserved for interrogations.
Which was exactly why he called you down there.
“What's going on?” You asked as you walked into the viewing room. Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Tony all looked your way, but didn't give you any sort of response. “Seriously, what's up?”
“You don't know?” Natasha responded, nodding toward the glass.
You followed her gaze with a gasp as you saw Bucky tower over some blonde male agent in the cell. Your boyfriend was almost unrecognizable with his face devoid of any emotion, dominant and on the edge of terrifying. It was a far cry from the loving side you were privy to, yet you loved this side of him just the same.
“Buck dragged John down here a few minutes ago,” Steve explained in a quiet voice as he punched the bridge of his nose. “Said something about him hurting you.”
You tilted your head as you looked at John, recognizing him after a second due to his punchable face. “Him? No. He didn't hurt me. He just bumped into me the other day in the break room,” you explained. Which wasn't that big of a deal to you, but probably offensive to Bucky. “But he didn't apologize.”
He also had a cold.
Oh, no.
“So, you had nothing to do with this?” Sam asked, chuckling as you lifted your chin.
“No, I didn't,” you replied as you bit your lip. “At least, I don't think I had anything to do with this.”
Your heart raced faster when Bucky pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and gripped John by the collar, the veins in his right arm popping out. You wished you could lick them. Maybe later.
“I know it was you, you piece of shit,” he said, roughly shoving the agent back into his chair. “You got my girl sick.”
Oh, Bucky.
You stared straight ahead as you felt the group collectively look your way, refusing to react under their stares. “Before any of you say another word, this is definitely not my fault,” you stated.
“Of course it isn't,” Natasha smirked. She knew Bucky loved to play the hero on your behalf even though you could take care of yourself. “Just enjoy the show.”
Your mouth fell open as your boyfriend slammed his left fist on the table, leaving a sizable dent as John nearly fell backwards in his chair. This guy was an agent? He was either new to interrogations or simply scared shitless of the former assassin.
Maybe both.
But you ignored him as you shifted your attention back to your beefy, perfect boyfriend.
When you had mumbled for him to find the person who gave you the cold, you didn’t think he’d actually do it. You weren’t sure how he narrowed down to John, but the former assassin was resourceful and you should've known he'd take you seriously. And, fuck, if it wasn’t slightly mortifying on your behalf and hot as hell watching him in action.
“That cold you gave her made her cry. You made my girl cry. Do you know what I do to guys like you who make my girl cry?” Bucky said through his teeth, bringing his fist down on the table again as John flinched and you smiled. With all the strength he possessed, you never had to worry that he'd hurt you. But you couldn't say the same for the frightened agent. “You're about to find out.”
You didn't think you could love Bucky more after he helped you get over your cold, but he proved you wrong.
And you could now add Bucky threatening people to your list of things that made you dreamily sigh and tingle between your thighs.
“Look, I'm sorry. I’m sorry! All I did was bump into her. It was an accident!” John shouted, putting his hands up in surrender and trembling when Bucky stood to his full height and cracked his neck. Your boyfriend waited a beat before he grabbed one of his hands and began to twist, making the agent pale as you bit back a whimper. “Fuck, stop! I won’t even breathe around her again. I’ll hold my breath! Just let me go!”
“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Tony asked you, taking out his phone to type a quick message as you hummed. Maybe you were enjoying it. How many guys went out of their way to scare someone who possibly gave you a cold? “Does the Manchurian Candidate know how much I’ll have to pay to keep this guy from suing him?”
“We can tell him it was a prank?” Steve suggested, bringing another laugh out of Sam as Natasha shook her head.
Bucky's eyes narrowed as he flung the hand away, his hair falling in his eyes as you held your breath. He looked like a wild animal, untamed and stunning. “I should choke you. Make you see how long you can really hold your breath before you pass out,” he snarled as John rubbed his sore skin.
Steve snuck a glance at you, his cheeks a little pink when you put a hand to your throat. “I don't want to overstep because you're my best friend's girl, but you do know you just moaned, right?” He whispered low enough for only you to hear.
Oops.
“Oh, my god,” you groaned, putting your warm face in your hands to hide your embarrassment for a moment. “Is anyone going to stop him?!”
“Why haven’t you stopped him?” Natasha countered knowingly.
Because I’m too busy thinking of how I’m going to suck his dick so good later that I'll make him see God.
You took a breath as the ache between your legs got stronger and pressed the button beside the glass. “Bucky?”
He swung his head toward the glass and met your gaze even though he couldn’t see you. No matter what, he’d always be able to spot you. “Hey, baby. I found the prick who gave you a cold. Want me to beat the shit out of him?” he bragged as John paled.
“I love you,” you giggled from how sweet and ridiculous he was. “And no. I appreciate you defending me, but I think you can let him go.”
Tony playfully rolled his eyes when Bucky grinned. “Your crazy matches his crazy.”
True.
“Okay. I love you, too,” Bucky said in a light tone, his smile falling the second he looked back at John and smacked the table against the wall with a clang. The agent looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Next time you see my girl, apologize and walk away. And the next time you have a cold, stay the fuck home or you'll answer to me.”
Yeah. I’m going to suck the soul from his body to thank him for everything the moment we get home.
And maybe the two of you could take another sick day to spend the day in bed.
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Totally normal boyfriend, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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hslllot · 11 months
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Birthday Week
rated m (smut) | 7k words | harry x reader
Snapshots of your week with Harry.
Monday
You weren’t sure what woke you up before your alarm went off: The May sunshine seeping through the blinds and flooding your bedroom, or the unusual sounds of clanging pots and pans coming from the kitchen downstairs.
Not yet ready to open your eyes and commit to waking up for the day, you rolled over and blindly reached out to find the other side of your bed empty. It was no surprise, given that Harry was typically an early riser. You rolled over again, this time sinking deeper into your pillow and pulling up your comforter to get yourself back into a cozy state of sleep.
Of course, your boyfriend of two years had other plans for you. 
The bedroom door creaked open and you could hear his bare feet softly padding across the floor to your side of the bed. Without opening your eyes, you heard him place something on the bedside table.
“Babe,” he whispered.
You were half-awake and half-asleep. Still refusing to open your eyes, the sound that came out of your mouth was somewhere between a whine and a groan.
Again, your boyfriend whispered, “babe,” but this time, he gently rested his fingers on the side of your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I’ve made your favourite.”
His soft touch is what willed your eyes open. When your vision finally adjusted to the sunlight, you found him standing next to the bed in his white robe, his hair still tousled on the side of his head he usually slept on. On the table next to him was a wooden tray with breakfast and a small vase filled with your favourite flowers.
You realized he hadn’t been up for his regular early morning run. No, he’d been busy in the kitchen. 
“What’s all this, H?” Your voice still groggy and filled with sleep. The smile on his face grew as he moved his hand from your face to your hair. 
“Happy birthday week, my love.”
Your tired mind tried to figure out what day of the week it was, and the expression on Harry’s face went from soft and doting to amused. 
“Happy birthd- what? Harry, my birthday’s not till Thursday.”
“I know,” he giggled. “But I’d like to celebrate you all week, that alright?”
And how could you be annoyed that he woke you up earlier than usual when he was so sweet? 
“Okay,” you chirped.
You never made a big deal out of your birthday because being the center of attention made you a bit anxious. You didn’t like when people sang happy birthday or watched as you opened gifts. You felt self-conscious about the way you reacted, worried that you wouldn’t look happy enough, or couldn’t hide the disappointment of receiving something you didn’t want or need. You never wanted to appear ungrateful so you always took it with a smile on your face. Sat through the discomfort and awkwardness of it all. But as you got older, you became more selective about how and with whom you spent your birthday.
Your last two birthdays had been quiet affairs, as per your request. Last year, you were on the road with Harry. The two of you ate a nice breakfast together and he had your favourite cake and some champagne backstage for everyone to enjoy. The year before that, he was also on the road, but since it was earlier in your relationship you opted to stay home. You went for dinner and drinks with a couple of your best friends and afterward enjoyed a tipsy (and slightly R-rated) FaceTime with Harry. 
This year, with a stroke of luck, he had two weeks off from touring. Your birthday happened to fall during those two weeks. 
About a week ago, he asked what you wanted to do for the occasion and you just suggested going for dinner on Thursday night.
“Nothing too elaborate.”
 He seemed unimpressed by that.
“I’m finally here and not working on your birthday and can give you 100% of my attention. Please, please, please,” he begged. “Let me throw you a small party.”
It was hard to say no when you knew how happy it would make him. Harry had several love languages, but acts of service was the one he enjoyed speaking the most, followed closely by giving gifts. 
So you caved, agreeing to let him hold a very small gathering on Saturday at his house, your house (seeing as you moved in right before the most recent leg of his tour). 
“Scooch up,” he instructed. And you sat up in bed while he grabbed the tray and placed it in front of you.
There were two sets of your favourite breakfast, eggs benedict, with some fresh fruit and two-coffee-filled mugs.
“Harry, this looks amazing. You didn’t have to do this.” 
He walked around to his side of the bed, sitting next to you. He placed a gentle kiss on your temple before cozying up and tilting his head to rest on top of yours. 
“I wanted to, and ‘s nothing,” he answered. But you didn’t think it was nothing, you thought it was sweet and thoughtful.
Turning your face up toward his, you pouted your lips and urged him to kiss you. He obliged with a soft peck and you grabbed a hold of his face and kissed him again. And again. And again. The two of you giggled and you murmured quiet ‘thank yous’ as you showered him with small kisses all over his face. 
“Thank. You.” you said, smacking a final kiss on his lips before reaching for a set of cutlery. “How did I get so lucky?”
You didn’t miss the smitten look in his eye, or the way his two front teeth sunk into his bottom lip. 
“Love you too…” he reciprocated. “Oh, and it’s your tits, you’ve got great tits,” he cackled. 
“Shut up.” 
Tuesday
Your day was shit. 
Your job was shit.
You felt like shit.
This morning, you’d slept through your alarm and woke to find that Harry was gone. It wasn’t that you expected breakfast in bed again… But you thought after he went on and on yesterday about your birthday week, that he’d at least be around for a cuddle this morning.
Instead, all you had was a text message and fifteen minutes to get yourself up and out the door.  
Harry: Baaaabe I forgot I had a meeting with the team this morning. I’ll see you after work x
You weren’t actually mad at him for that, moreso annoyed at yourself for sleeping in and having to rush. You hated being late and feeling flustered. Foregoing your regular morning routine had you out of sorts.
When you got downstairs and were ready to fly out the door without breakfast, you realized Harry had left a croissant and your usual smoothie waiting on the counter. Next to it was a note that read: Birthday week x 
The worried creases in your forehead smoothed themselves out, and a warmth permeated your chest, but you didn’t have time to dwell on the feeling. You grabbed your breakfast, thoughtfully prepared by your partner, and decided you’d call him and say thanks when you got to your office.  
Once you’d finally arrived at work (15 minutes late), your coworkers made a point to get on every single one of your last nerves. 
When you walked out of the elevator and into your workplace, you were feeling a bit flustered because you hated being late. Of course, an intern who wasn’t paying attention walked right into you, spilling your smoothie all over the floor and on to your clothes.
You resisted the urge to have a meltdown. Instead, you accepted their apology and calmly walked to your office. A spare shirt was kept in your office for this exact situation.
Then, Kerri from finance came into your office to let you know (somewhat passive aggressively) that the end-of-month reports that were filed last week were all input incorrectly. You were not the person who filed the reports, but apparently you were the person who had to fix them.
Maybe you were just in an irritable mood, but your day was hectic and filled with fixing everyone’s mistakes. You never got the chance to call Harry until your lunch break, and when you did he was in a meeting and couldn’t answer. So you just texted him and told him you’d see him after work. 
When you got home, you hoped that he would be okay with a relaxing evening that didn’t involve anything requiring any brain power. You were exhausted.
“Harry, you home?” You called out. 
“In the kitchen!” 
You followed the sound of his voice through the house, leaving a trail of belongings, your bag, your coat, your shoes, discarding the weight of a stressful and mundane work day behind you. 
“Have you eaten?” You asked as you moved through the halls of your home. “I can’t be arsed to cook something right now, thinking we should takeout? Kerri from finance is an absolute turd of a huma-” 
You were interrupted by the sight of your boyfriend sitting at your dining table. The lights in the room were all dimmed. The table was set with food, flowers, and wine, all illuminated by candlelight.
“Happy Tuesday-before-your-birthday!” He exclaimed with arms outstretched, fingers wiggling, and the biggest smile plastered across his face. He stood up from the table, his expression warping into a pout, “I’m sorry about Kerri from finance.” 
The sight of him was enough to short circuit your memory, all thoughts of your work day went out the window. 
“H… This is… So lovely.” You scanned the table and saw your favourite dishes laid out. 
He walked toward you and wrapped you in his arms. You held onto him tightly while he placed a kiss on the side of your head. 
“Sit down and tell me about your shit day.” He murmured into your hair. 
Airing out your frustrations felt silly now. But you sat and vented about your coworkers while Harry poured you a glass of red wine. You indulged in your favourite meal, that he proudly cooked himself, and the conversation shifted from your work, to asking how his meeting went and what he’d been up to all day. The longer you sat with him the more relaxed you became. And the more wine you drank, the more tired you felt. 
When you let out a yawn, you apologized, “It’s not you, I swear. Just a long day.”
He squeezed your knee under the table and when you looked up at him he had the cheekiest smirk plastered across his face. A smirk you’d seen many times before. You reached out and stuck your finger in his dimple. 
“I’ve got a surprise for you actually. In the bedroom.” He grabbed your finger and pretended to chew on it.
You were torn, wanting to show the man next to you all kinds of appreciation in the bedroom, but at the same time feeling like you could fall asleep on top of the dining table if you let yourself.
“Babe… I’m sorry. I want to… you know. But I’m just so tired. Maybe we can -”
He interrupted you again, “No, ‘s not that.” He let go of your finger but took your whole hand in his. He noticed the way you were concerned over all the dishes and leftover food on the table. “I’ll take care of this later, come with me.”
With your fingers entwined, you followed him up the stairs and into the bedroom. Before you reached the room, you could hear quiet, soothing music playing. When you finally saw what he had prepared, you let out an audible gasp. 
The lights in the large master bedroom were dimmed, save for the aromatic candles that were lit and dispersed around the room. Red and white rose petals were scattered across the floor. In the middle of the room was a massage table, set up with clean white sheets, and a cart filled with different oils, lotions, and scents. You approached the table and found a beautiful white, silk robe, with your initials monogrammed on the chest. 
“Harry…” You traced your finger over the delicately embroidered initials.
“I know ’m not a professional,” he grabbed the robe and urged you to take it. “But you’ve said before that I give really good massages.”
You took it from him and he continued, “Wait… You weren’t lying, right? Like you actually think I give good massages? You’re not pulling a Chandler?”
“Don’t worry, you do,” you barely managed to form a sentence, in awe of the man next to you. 
“K, good. Though I suppose I could’ve hired someo-”
It was your turn to interrupt him. You dropped the robe and threw your arms around his neck, capturing his lips in a kiss that had your head spinning. He reciprocated, deepening the kiss with his tongue against yours. The firm grip he had on your waist slid down your curves and without breaking away from your kiss, he hoisted you up onto the massage table. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist and stayed like that for a while, indulging in one another. Feeling, groping, pulling kiss after kiss, basically making out like a couple of teenagers. Your hands were everywhere, frenzied, in his hair, digging into his shoulders, pressed against his chest. 
It was when you started subconsciously rutting against him that Harry broke away. “Swear this was just meant to be an innocent massage,” he whispered, breathless.
“It’s okay,” you choked out, still holding onto him while his arms caged you on the edge of the massage table. 
“I know you’re tired… Let me take care of you.” 
All you could do was nod. 
He started carefully removing your work clothes, button by button, piece by piece, until you were left in nothing but your underwear. He stood there for a moment, just taking in the sight. It was overwhelming the way he looked at you, like he might devour you at any moment. While he stared, you reached around your back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor.  
You could tell he was resisting the urge to touch you when he leaned in and whispered, “get on your stomach.” 
The feeling of his hot breath against your ear sent a delicious shiver down your spine. 
Doing as he requested, you positioned yourself on the massage table so that you were face down with your head resting on the pillow. You wondered if he would put the sheet over you, how they did for professional massages. Instead, you felt him place his hands on the backs of your ankles, moving each hand slowly up your calves, then your thighs, and stopping when he reached the bottom of your lace underwear. He gave your bum a quick squeeze, and used his thumbs to spread your cheeks apart, grazing up and over your most sensitive parts before dragging your underwear down and removing them completely. You were bare to him, and you willed yourself not to squirm under his gaze.
Despite your earlier feelings of being “too tired”, you could feel the desire building in the pit of your stomach. Between your makeout session and the way his hands felt on you, your body was practically begging for him. 
He chose an oil from the cart and began to rub it into your lower back, smoothing his hands up toward your neck. The light citrus scent of the oil invaded your senses and clouded your thoughts.
The way his strong hands rubbed circles into your body had the stress of the day melting away. You didn’t realize how much tension you were carrying until his fingertips pressed into a knot at the base of your neck and a small moan escaped your lips. You heard him mutter “fuck” under his breath, and you wondered if having you sprawled out naked under his touch was affecting him the way it was affecting you. 
You were still very tired and the combination of the soothing music, the candles, the oil, the dim lights, and his relaxing touch all had you on the edge of consciousness. But every time Harry’s hands dropped to your lower back, your heart rate began to pick up. 
When he brought his hands to the backs of your thighs, your stomach clenched in arousal. He rubbed and squeezed and pinched up and down your thighs, every time stopping just before he reached the apex. He was inches from your core and he had to know that you were aching for him. 
You gasped when you felt his mouth against your lower back, gently nipping at the skin while his fingers continued to knead your thighs.
“Need to touch you…” He breathed against your skin. “Can I- please?” 
You answered him by raising your hips, just slightly, offering yourself to him. 
He started by lightly grazing your inner thighs, trailing around where you wanted him most. It was maddening. 
“Harry…” you urged him.
Finally, his daring fingertips made their way through your folds, gathering your wetness. 
“Fuck”, he muttered again. You tried to crane your next to the side to catch a glimpse of him, and you noticed the way he rutted himself against the side of the table.
You wanted to reach back, to touch him, and relieve his ache the way he was relieving yours, but you felt dizzy, each stroke of his fingers against your clit sending you into a spiral. 
When he finally slipped one of his long fingers into you, you gasped, and when he worked his second finger in, the gasp turned into a moan. The sensation of his fingers stretching you, easing in and out, had you clutching the massage table beneath you. 
Your core tightened as he thrust his fingers, deeply and slowly inside of you. 
“You feel so good, so wet,” he groaned.
When he removed his fingers, you were embarrassed by your frustrated reaction.
“Harry - please…”
He responded by gripping the backs of your knees and pulling them further apart, giving himself more access. Then, he concentrated his efforts on dragging your wetness up toward your clit. You buried your face deeper into the pillow as pleasure coursed through you. 
He sunk his fingers back in with a steady rhythm and your body started to coil tighter, gripping him. While he worked you over relentlessly, he left wet, hot kisses on your back and shoulders. Your body was overwhelmed with a hot sensation and you couldn’t hold back your moans. 
When you felt his fingers curl inside you, that’s when you started coming apart. 
“H…” you were breathless, needy, and losing control of your body. Convulsions took over and a white heat washed over you. 
When you were finished, Harry removed his fingers and moved to the head of the massage table. He leaned down and you turned your head so he could capture your lips in a dizzying kiss. You turned over for him and felt the weight of his stare on your entire body. You were on fire. Had your limbs not turned to jelly post-orgasm, you might’ve tried to pull him on top of you or tried to reach for his zipper where his erection was straining against his trousers. But you felt weak. Relaxed, and utterly completely satisfied. But weak. 
Harry helped pull you up so you were sitting on the table. He grabbed your new silk robe, wrapping it around you and helping your arms through the sleeves. The robe was luxurious, like butter on your warm skin. 
Harry stood tall in front of you now, his gaze seering into you. You willed yourself back to earth, back to consciousness. 
“Happy birthday, baby,” he said, lifting your chin to leave a quick peck on your lips. 
“It’s not my birthday.” You huffed, chuckling, knowing he didn’t care about the technicalities. “But thank you.”
He gave you another quick kiss. “Stay here while I start us a bath, okay?” 
Wednesday
For the second day in a row, your morning routine had been interrupted.
Today, however, was under much better circumstances. 
You woke up to the sound of your alarm, and almost immediately Harry latched on to you. You were still in a haze when he buried his face into the base of your throat, leaving a string of wet kisses and greedy licks. In a haze, your hand rested in his chocolate curls while he sucked bruises into the sensitive skin of your neck.  
After the events of last night, you fully intended on making this morning about him. You were about to reach down toward his straining briefs. But he had other plans in mind, diving under the blankets and scaling down your body before you even had a chance to lay a finger on him. 
He made quick work of you. First, placing a gentle open-mouth kiss on your clit, sending an awakening jolt through your tired body. 
Then he went for a full taste, sucking and laving up every bit of you that he could. He alternated between diving inside of you and stroking over your swollen button with his soft, warm tongue. Occasionally he scraped his teeth across your sensitive nerves and your hips jolted in pleasure. 
The heat that ran through you was intense. You searched for something to grab on to. One hand tangled itself in his soft curls, the other reached for his hand and grasped his fingers. 
When you came, he rode it out with repeated flicks of his tongue and you pressed your hungry flesh to his face, grinding and smothering him until you couldn’t take it anymore. 
Eventually, he pulled away and dragged himself up the bed to meet you at eye level. On your back, you were still trying to catch your breath and compose yourself. His hot breath fanned over your ear as he chuckled, “good morning.”
And a good morning it was.
----------
You walked into work feeling as refreshed as ever. Nothing and nobody could bring you down after the relaxing evening, and delicious morning, you had. 
Around mid-afternoon, while you were plugging away on some paperwork, you were interrupted by a stranger in your office doorway. 
“Delivery.” 
The man held a basket filled with flowers and an assortment of treats. He confirmed your name and had you sign off on the delivery before leaving it on your desk. 
The flowers were pink and purple tulips accompanied with a plain glass vase. Simple and elegant. A perfect fit for your desk. In the basket were some snacks you liked to indulge in throughout the day. Percy pigs, some pretzels, a pack of crisps. And notably there was a small, but long, rectangular box that quite obviously held a piece of jewelry. 
Of course you didn’t have to look at the card to know who the gift was from, but you snickered to yourself when you opened it and read the message inside. 
Fuck Kerri from finance. Happy birthday. H x
Although you felt your boyfriend was doing way too much for your birthday, you couldn’t deny how excited you were to see what was inside the box. 
When you opened it, you were in disbelief.
The piece of jewelry was an Effy necklace you’d had your eye on for ages. It was a delicate chain made up of strands of 14 karat gold and adorned with various stones,  amethyst, madeira citrine, and peridot, arranged into the shape of small flowers along the chain. You didn’t even remember telling Harry about the necklace, thinking it was too expensive and never wanting him to spend that kind of money on you. You wondered which of your friends or family told him about it.
Either way, you could feel the tears beginning to form in your eyes. You were overwhelmed with love. 
A part of you thought he was insane for 1) spending this kind of money on you, and 2) trusting this gift with a random delivery person. Nonetheless, you tucked away the annoying side of you that thought about making a teasing remark, and opted for gratitude instead. 
Knowing that Harry was at pilates at this time, you sent him a text message.
THIS IS TOO MUCH 🔪  but thank you and i love you so much. X
“Oooh, is it your birthday?”
You looked up to see Kerri from the finance department at your door. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself while she eyed your flowers and gift basket. 
“Yeah, it’s tomorrow actually.”
“Nice. Happy birthday!”
Thursday 
“Good morning, baby.” Harry buried his face into your neck and pulled your hips back into his. “Do you feel wiser than you did yesterday?” He whispered against your skin. 
“Hardly…” 
“You know what wasn’t very wise?” He asked, trailing his lips across your jawline. 
“Hmmm…”
His breath fanned over your ear, “Not taking the day off work.” He chuckled. 
You let out a groan before checking the time. 7:16 AM. 
“I can give you fifteen minutes.” 
“Think I can make that work...” He nipped gently at your neck and rocked his hips forward, making you aware of his firmness prodding against you. 
Your limbs weakened as he smoothed his hand under your shirt, over your stomach, and up towards your breast. His thumb brushed against your nipple, sending a burst of heat right to your core.  
His other hand drifted downward, sliding between your thighs, and you felt your desire grow. He palmed you where you were most sensitive, and the heat of his touch spread through the cotton of your underwear. 
“Harry…” you choked out. 
He unlatched himself from your neck. 
“Tell me what you want,” he rasped, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers traced the edge of your panties. 
You arched your hips against his hand. “I want you. Please.”
He pushed your underwear aside and trailed the pads of his fingers between your lips. “Happy. Fucking. Birthday.” He emphasized each word with pressured strokes over your clit. You trembled, already feeling like you were on the edge. 
You grabbed his wrist. 
“No, I want you,” reaching behind yourself to search for his waistband. To get your point across, you turned around to face him and started to stroke him over the material of his briefs. “Please - let me.” 
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, nodding. He gulped when you reached your hand into his briefs and wrapped your fingers around his cock. “I won’t last long though.”
“Good.”
----------
Later that night, Harry took you to your favourite restaurant to celebrate your actual birthday. 
Your favourite restaurant was a small taco joint that had shrimp tacos you claimed were “the best you ever had”. And although it wasn’t the fancy birthday dinner he had in mind, the excitement written across your face over these damn tacos was an indication that it was exactly what you wanted. 
Plus, they had a vegan mushroom taco and a killer margarita that he really enjoyed. 
As he saw the server make his way toward your table with your order, he decided it was the right time to give you your gift. He felt around his coat pockets, searching for the envelope that held your surprise.
 When he found it, he held it out to you, and you looked like you might kill him. He loved that look. The way your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted slightly in disbelief. He’d take that look every day for the rest of his life if you let him. 
“Harry, what is this?” You asked, taking the envelope while your server placed your tacos in front of you. 
“Birthday gift.” He nodded to the server in gratitude and took a sip of his margarita. “Ooh, that’s a bit strong,” he winced.
“Harry.”
“If yours is this strong you might not make it to work in the morning.” 
“Harry!”
“What!” He held his hands up, feigning innocence. He loved seeing you riled up like this. The way you got a bit flustered and your voice got a bit higher. He imagined that if he were to feel your face, your cheeks would be hot. 
“Hasn’t there been enough gifts? You’ve been spoiling me all week… There can't possibly be more.” 
“Well there is.” He watched while you examined the envelope with trepidation. 
He was conscious about not making you uncomfortable, so he picked up one of his tacos and preoccupied himself while you opened the envelope. 
“Are you kidding me?” 
When he looked up at you, your face had softened. No longer looking like you wanted to kill him, instead you looked at him with nothing but admiration.
He changed his mind: That was the look he wanted to see for the rest of his life. 
“Think you could take the time off work?” He asked, resting his hand on the back of your neck. 
“I think so.” You nodded, turning your attention back to the contents of the envelope. 
Although he traveled a lot with you on tour, he never felt like the two of you were really on vacation. You were always bouncing around from city to city. He spent his days at the venues and working out and then went to bed early every night after a show. He never got to show you his favourite places, or be with you while you discovered yours. He never got to take you out for late-night dinner and dancing or indulge in too many drinks and stumble down foreign streets hand-in-hand.
When he told you about his time in Japan and how much he loved it, you told him how badly you wanted to visit there one day.
As soon as you said that, he started building this fantasy, a daydream, in his mind of what it would be like to spend time with you in Japan. He knew you wouldn’t accept a free trip from him without some kind of reason or occasion. So your birthday was the perfect opportunity. 
He watched as you continued to look over the plane tickets and AirBnB itinerary, no longer hiding your excitement. When you looked up, your eyes were glossy and he felt his heart grow twice its size. 
“Thank you,” you said quietly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I feel like I’ve been saying thank you so much all week but I really do mean it.” 
You grabbed his hand and leaned in for a kiss. 
“No, thank you. I would give you more if you let me,” he responded, meeting your mouth halfway. “You deserve it.”
Friday
“Harry Edward Styles, my birthday is OVER!”
“What ‘re you on about? We do this every Friday night.” 
“We do NOT do it like this.”
“Well I’ve got to make it a bit more special haven't I? Since it’s birthday week?” 
You huffed in frustration and marched yourself up the stairs. Annoyed, you removed your work clothes and swapped them for a pair of sweatpants and one of Harry’s t-shirts. 
“What would you like to drink?” He called out from downstairs. 
“Nothing!” You yelled back. 
“That’s not very fun!” 
You were afraid that if you rolled your eyes any harder they might stay that way permanently.
Soon after, he appeared in the doorway of your bedroom. He approached you from behind cautiously, wrapping his arms around your waist while you removed your makeup with a washcloth. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s just a movie.” 
You turned around to face him, and let out a sigh when you saw the look of concern on his face. You felt terrible.
“You must think I’m the most ungrateful hag you’ve ever met.” 
He buried his face into your neck. “I don’t. I know it’s been a lot. Maybe a bit much.”
“My boyfriend is literally the sweetest man on the planet and I’m complaining.” 
“You’re hardly complaining.” 
“You defending me right now is just proving how awful I am and how wonderful you are.” You tried to pull away but he tightened his grip on you. 
“Let’s say it’s just a regular Friday movie night. No more birthday week.” You eyed him suspiciously. “The stuff I set up down there was just ‘cause I was bored.” 
You scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 
“I’m being serious! I don’t want you to be upset.”  
“Harry.”
“Darling.” 
You wondered why you couldn’t just say thank you. Why was it so hard for you to just accept the kind gesture? 
“I’m not upset,” you reached up to cradle his face in your hands. “I’m just terrible at accepting gifts, apparently.”
He leaned into your touch and placed a small kiss in the palm of your hand. 
You sighed, “C’mon, let’s go.” 
He trailed behind you as you headed down the stairs and into the cozy oasis he’d built in your living room. Blankets and pillows were all carefully arranged on the floor, bed sheets were draped between the furniture to form makeshift walls and ceilings, with strings of fairy lights scattered around the room. There were bowls filled with your favourite candies and salty snacks, and the title of your favourite movie was queued up on the television, waiting for you to press play. 
“Can we fool around a bit too?” Harry asked cheekily, poking at your sides like a pest. There was a giddiness and almost childish delight in the way he was excited to play in the blanket fort he’d built.
“Yes-” You turned and pointed a finger at him. “But you have to promise me that after the party tomorrow night you won’t mention my birthday again till next year. Or maybe even the year after.”
He chuckled, pulling you down into a mountain of pillows with him. 
“I promise.”
Saturday
It was absurd to you that on a morning when you didn’t have to go to work, Harry was nowhere to be found. 
Of course, you slept in a little later than usual. Your body and mind needed to recover after a long week. But of all the days, logically, today would have been the best day to spend wrapped around each other in bed. 
You knew he must have gone out because you didn’t hear him puttering around downstairs. It was a chance to have a slow and easy morning. You took your time getting out of bed and stayed in your pajamas while you lazily brewed yourself a coffee.  
The sun was shining so you spent the morning outside on the deck with your coffee and some fruit. You were relaxed and happy, reading a novel you’d been dying to read, and enjoying the quiet sounds of your neighbourhood. A niggling part of your brain thought that maybe Harry had planned all this too. Perhaps he knew you needed a moment to chill with yourself and took off for the morning. 
It wouldn’t have surprised you if he did.
Shortly before lunch time, Harry walked through the doors with arms full of grocery bags. 
“Hiya babe.” He kissed you on the cheek and set his bags on the kitchen counter. “How’s your mornin’?”
“It was very nice, actually. Missed you though.” You observed him while he pulled all sorts of random food items, bottles of wine, and decorations out of his bags. “What’s all this, H?” 
“‘It’s just stuff for tonight.” For some reason you’d woken up this morning and forgot a party was being thrown in your honour. 
“Oh right… Do you need me to help with anything?”
“Hmm,” he shook his head. “Nope. Jeff’’ll be over shortly to help set up.”
“Set up? Harry, this is going to be a small party, right?”
He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. “Yes, don't worry - it will be small in size. But big in fun.” 
You snorted. “You are such a loser.”
“A sexy loser though, right?” It was your turn to roll your eyes. 
“So… You really don’t need me to do anything?” 
“Nope. You should just go watch netflix, or read a book or something.” He shooed you away. 
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
He just shrugged. 
“Fine,” you walked out of the kitchen, amused. But not before he swatted your bum on the way out. 
----------
Your friends started showing up around dinner time. 
As much as you resisted the birthday celebrations, you were actually quite excited to have them over. What with your job and the touring you’d been doing with Harry, you hadn’t seen a lot of your friends lately. 
“So, did H get you anything good for your birthday?” Your best friend asked.
“He spoiled me the entire week.” You signaled to the necklace on your neck and told her about your upcoming trip to Japan. “He was really sweet. A thoughtful gesture or gift every day.” 
The group you were standing with swooned over the piece of jewelry and pride swelled in your chest when you told them about everything Harry did throughout the week. 
He was also the perfect host. He made burgers (meat and vegetarian options) on the barbecue, kept everyone’s drinks refreshed and made sure the snacks were fully stocked. Of course he did some mingling himself, both with his own friends he invited, but with yours too. You loved the way he always got along with everyone, he was a ray of sunshine in every room he walked into.
Harry was also mindful of giving you space to mingle with all your guests, only checking on you every so often to make sure you had a drink in your hand. 
While the conversation among your group pivoted to other things, your eyes scanned the expanse of the yard in search of him. You found him standing near the barbecue engrossed in a conversation with Jeff and one of your close friends from college. He looked handsome as ever, dressed casually in a pair of brown corduroy shorts, his ‘apollo eleven’ tee, and a light orange cardigan. 
Jeff was babbling on about something when Harry’s attention drifted in your direction. The two of you made eye contact, a dimple appearing in his left cheek.
“Hi,” he mouthed from a distance. “Alright?”
You nodded with a silent “I love you”, before turning your attention back to your friends. 
Later, the party was starting to wind down and you were at the front door, bidding goodbye to some folks. As your best friend was preparing to leave, she hugged you tightly and whispered in your ear, “call me tomorrow with all the details.” You were both rather tipsy, but you assumed she wanted the dirty details of your birthday week.
Afterward, you headed back outside to find Harry and the remaining guests seated around the patio table playing a card game. You climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Y’alright?” He asked. 
“Mmhmm. Thank you for the party.” 
“Tipsy?”
“And tired.”
“Want me to kick everyone out?” He said quietly, so no one else could hear.
You looked around the table to see some of your friends looking tired as well. One looked like she was passed out with her head rested on her boyfriends shoulder. Glenne was sat beside them and you caught her yawning.
When you looked at your watch it read, 1:30 AM. At this age, none of you could party like you used to. 
“Nah, I think we’re old enough that everyone here will be leaving on their own shortly. ‘S past all our bed times.”
And you were right, less than a couple minutes later, you heard the first “Well, I think it’s time to call it a night.” And everyone else followed suit. 
Once the last guest was out the door, you turned to Harry and wrapped your arms around him. His hand went straight to your hair, soothing the back of your head. 
“Can we clean up in the morning?” You asked, your words muffled against his chest. 
“Good idea, let’s get to bed.”
Sunday
Now that “birthday week” was over, you were determined to turn things around and be as giving and thoughtful toward Harry as he was with you this past week. 
Despite the slight hangover after last night's festivities, you made sure to wake up before him to prepare breakfast in bed.
Just as you sat up, Harry flung his arm around you and pulled you back into him. 
“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” He muttered into your shoulder. You squirmed in his hold and he tightened his grip. “Stay in bed w’ me.”
You relaxed, with your back pressed against his chest. His arms were wrapped around you, and he grabbed your left hand with his and intertwined your fingers. 
“Do you know how much I love you?” He asked, and you nodded. You craned your head back, silently asking him to meet your lips with his. 
“You did an amazing job at showing me this week. “
“What I did this week is only a fraction of the love I have for you… Want to celebrate you forever.” 
As much as birthdays made you anxious, the thought of always spending them with him had a special feeling blooming in your chest. 
“Mmmm, only if you give me a chance to celebrate you too.”
He rested his chin on the top of your head and you closed your eyes, basking in the bliss of the sunshine radiating from the window and the warmth of the body wrapped around yours. 
“Don’t be upset, but I have something else for you…”
“Harry…” You whined. “I thought birthday week was over.”
He chuckled, “It is, I promise.” 
Keeping your left hands tangled together, he reached with his right arm toward the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling something out. 
“I know this week was a bit much -”
You interrupted him, “No, it was perfect, H. You’re perfect.” He squeezed your hand. 
“I want to spend all your birthdays with you. All of ‘em. Will you let me?” he whispered. That’s when he held a small box in front of you. You were in shock when he opened the box and inside sat an intricate gold banded diamond ring that glinted in the sunlight. 
“Marry me.”
----------
LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK :)
831 notes · View notes
quin-ns · 10 months
Note
How you get the girl??
this one didn’t have a character with it so I picked Rafe since I need to write him more lol
takes place in like season 2 just throwing that out there for context
How You Get The Girl (Rafe Cameron x Reader)
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The knock on the front door surprised you given that it was night and pouring rain. You were curled up on the couch reading, and your first reaction was to furrow your brows and peak out the window.
Except, it was dark and you couldn’t see given the angle.
You’d watched a lot of true crime shows—or at least enough to know you shouldn’t open the door for someone you didn’t know.
Because of that, you didn’t know why you did.
The words left your mouth the moment you saw your ex boyfriend on the other side.
“You’re insane.”
Rafe was standing there with no jacket, drenched and shaking in a way he tried to hide in the cold rain. The expression on his face changed from pensive to relief when he saw you.
It had been a while since you’d even seen him, it was like being in the presence of a ghost.
“Maybe,” he agreed with a small shrug. “Can I come in?”
You let out a sigh, glancing over your shoulder. You kept a firm grip on the door, keeping a barricade even though you doubted he’d slip past you. It was more of a reassurance for yourself.
Not because your parents weren’t home, but because Rafe had broken your heart.
You didn’t know if you could handle being alone with him.
Things had been going good when the two of you were dating. That is, until he left you all alone and never told you why. You’d heard some rumors about him in that time, but you never believed the darker ones.
Rafe had his problems, but Sarah and her friends running around calling him murderer was something you couldn’t bring yourself to believe.
Looking at him now, with that small, guilty smile on his face, silently asking you to indulge him even just for a moment, you found it hard to believe even the bad things you did know.
“Fine,” you finally decided, stepping back from the door and allowing him to enter.
Rafe crossed the threshold with caution, eyes on you to make sure he had your approval for every step.
“It’s been a while,” he said once you shut the door behind him.
You crossed your arms over your chest, staring him down.
“Who’s fault is that?”
Every morning you woke up wondering if you got over Rafe abandoning you, and every night you fell asleep knowing you hadn’t.
Except that realization came a little earlier tonight. You wanted to hug him and never let go. To ask him what happened, ask him why he left the way he did.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Rafe started off, knowing it was long overdue. “I’ve been wanting to come talk to you every day, but I…”
You tilted your head, silently goading him to continue.
“I’ve been too scared,” he confessed.
Shame was laced in his voice, and the look of guilt had only become more prevalent. He sighed a little and stepped closer. There was still a decent gap between where the two of you stood in your dark living room, but he seemed to take it as a good sign when you didn’t step back away from him.
“Scared?” you questioned. You didn’t mean to, but you scoffed. “Of me?”
Rafe looked away from you for a moment before pulling together the strength to look you in the eye.
“Of what you’d think of me,” he said, voice lower.
You furrowed your brows at that. Used to be he didn’t care what people would think. The only exception to that was for his dad—he only wanted to impress him. Otherwise, he was himself.
At first you wondered if Ward had anything to do with the break up, knowing he never liked you. He once told you that you distracted Rafe too much and that it wasn’t good for his son. You’d rolled your eyes at him and told him you and Rafe were staying together.
Looking at him now, hearing his words, you knew he was the only one at fault.
The only thing overcoming that unfortunate truth was your instinct to comfort Rafe. He looked so… sad. Disappointed in himself was more accurate, actually.
You stepped closer without a thought and looked up at him.
“You really hurt me, Rafe,” you confided.
“I must’ve lost my mind to leave you all alone like that. And not even telling you why…” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I just… I know what people say about me, what they think I did—“
“I never believed them,” you cut him off.
You weren’t planning on interrupting, but you wanted him to know.
Rafe swallowed and studied you for a moment. There was a flash of something in his eyes, but you couldn’t pinpoint it. You knew him so well, but sometimes he’d get a distant, unreadable look on his face that you couldn’t figure out.
“You didn’t?” he asked cautiously. You shook your head, confirming you in fact did not. “Well… thank you for that.”
“So, what? That’s why you left? You thought I’d believe some rumors over you?”
Rafe remained quiet.
“Why are you here?” you finally questioned, fighting back a glare and a frown.
“I thought maybe…” Rafe took a breath. “Maybe we could try again.”
You shouldn’t have been so surprised. You and Rafe had been madly in love, and then he practically disappeared from your life. There was a lot left unresolved, and your feelings never went away. It made sense that his didn’t either.
The part of you that still loved him wanted to accept right away, to jump in his arms and act like nothing had happened. The part of you that was still upset had something else to say.
“So, you just ditch me and think that you can come back? That everything will be okay?”
“No,” Rafe admitted, frowning at the knowledge of that. “I know it won’t be that easy. All I’m asking is if you can give me a second chance. We can take it slow, but I just”—Rafe swallowed and stepped closer—“I miss you.”
You were weak and you opened your mouth before your brain could stop you.
“I miss you too.”
You ran your hands over your arms, trying to bring yourself comfort. You watched Rafe watch you, wondering what was going on in his head.
Why now?
Why couldn’t he have come back months ago?
“It’s not that simple,” you continued.
You needed to protect yourself for now. Being vulnerable would come later, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. It was all so sudden.
“I’ll go,” Rafe said after a long moment. “I know you weren’t expecting any of this. Even if it’s long overdue.”
You struggled to find any more words, and for a moment you watched in silence as Rafe bowed his head and went to open the door.
“I’ll think about it,” you said suddenly, surprising even yourself.
He looked back at you, letting the smallest amount of hope creep into his expression.
“I’ll wait for you, whenever you’re ready,” Rafe swore. By the look in his eyes, you believed him.
When he exited, you moved to the doorway. You watched him as he walked all the way back to his truck before you finally shut the door. He gave you one last smile before you did so. When it was closed, you leaned back against the door and let out a breath you had been holding.
He broke your heart, that was undeniable, but now he wanted a chance to put it back together.
It was a chance you were willing to take.
267 notes · View notes
lokiandbuckysdoll · 10 months
Note
Alright So the request i wanna make is a loki x plus!size reader i was thinking that the reader is a villain and she is very hard to capture but the avengers get her and put her in a cell with loki she is a bit of a bich and very mean when she has enemies and sassy to let's just say when the avengers hear her full name they know who her father is and his reputation let's just say her father was very evil and had a lot of enemies and they say she act's a lot like her father and they convince loki and the reader to join the avengers they say they can have a normal life and (i forgot to mention when they capture the reader she threatens to kill them but they said she can't escape) so her and loki become close and loki at the end idmits he love's the reader like love love's her like he would die for her she feels the same they get their happy ending. (I really don't know how it ends Sorry if it's long)
Hi darling! sorry this took me forever to write. I hope you like it though! And thanks to @springdandelixn for helping me with writing this! Love you bubba!🩵
Where the journey takes us
You've been stuck in the hell hole for a year, perhaps more, but you've lost track of the days. After assisting Loki in the Battle of New York, you were imprisoned with him in Asgard.
The guards would come early every morning before the sun rose, checking every cell and giving each one the most unpleasant-looking meal. After that, they wouldn’t return to do their nightly checks until the evening when darkness came. To say your days were boring was an understatement. Hell, you shouldn't even be here.   
After having aided Loki, you had snuck off to the spot your father had told you to meet him at. Yet your father never arrived. Typical of him since you were never his "legacy child".  The only reason you were in New York was solely for him. He wanted you to prove how far you would go to help him and his empire. 
So you set out that faithful day to prove your allegiance, yet you couldn't fulfill your goal as the alien portal opened in the sky, causing terror to inflict in the city. This causes you to join the fight with a man named Loki. With the sole sentiment that this would make your father finally proud of you. 
By the end, you lost, and the mighty Avengers won. They were deciding what to do with the both of you. The oaf, as you grew to call him Thor, suggested you'd better be suited to stay in Asgard as you helped Loki in the battle.
You cursed them all, declaring that you’ll get your revenge, Yet Tony Stark made a remark “ With your bulky figure and your daddy's reputation, I doubt you'll get far” This set your blood boiling and almost broke the restraints that held your hands together. 
 Loki was no better in your travels to Asgard. He hardly spoke to you after the battle and never once showed an ounce of appreciation. After you were sentenced by Odin, you knew you'd never see freedom again. 
However, Loki somehow managed to slowly be more vocal toward you. He figured he might as well try to talk to you as you both were stuck here.  You did not make it easy on him, though. You always had a snarky remark to say. He’d get annoyed with your antics yet provoke you simultaneously. 
Not to mention your cell just happened to be right next to Loki’s. It made it all the easier to piss the other one off. 
On rare occasions, when you two were not in a bickering match,  he'd sometimes sit next to the wall that divided your cells and cast his illusion into yours.  He showed little tricks he could do, but like how all your other bickering started, he would say a snarky remark which then made the two of you go at it again with arguing. 
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The day the Dark Elves attacked Asgard was the day Frigga died protecting Thor's lover. You remember hearing Loki disagree with her earlier in the day. You were not sure what it was about but the way his tone was when yelling was one that you had never heard him use before. This one was a tone that was filled with hurt and pain.  
 A week had passed and you had yet to hear from him. You knew he was still in his cell as you could hear him trying to silence his pain. You felt his rage as he threw his things around hitting the walls.  You finally broke the silence one night. 
"Loki" you yelled into the air as if he would appear, you were not sure why you even wanted to talk to him yet you felt like you needed to. A few minutes passed by before his illusion appeared. "What!" he roared with pure annoyance. You rolled your eyes at his antics.  " Read to me" he looked confused upon your request. " Is this why you disturb my peace, to read to a quim like you!" he got even more annoyed.  
You only asked him to read because he had let it slip in the past that he loves to read when his emotions get too much for him. With him losing his mother you thought maybe him reading to you would help him with the grief and loss.  After a few more minutes of arguing back in forth, he caved in. 
That night was how your bond if you call it, began to grow. Soon after that, your bickering and arguments began to die down and turned into civil conversations. On the days he needed to escape, He would read to you for what felt like hours with one of the numerous books his mother had given him to pass the time. Those days were the ones you grew to enjoy. His voice was angelic when he read one of his dearest books. His face was ever so stunning, eyes captivating. You'd forget it was an illusion. 
You'd sit and listen, you would also confess to him about your father, and he'd listen. Exceptionally rarely would he talk about Odin. Though he fondly told you about Frigga many times, which you loved, she sounded like the mother you wished you had.  
During this time, you both fell for one another and spent hours on end talking, laughing, and even crying to each other. Some of the other prisoners had told you to shut up most nights. Neither of you listened to their demand.  
It wasn't until one day, Thor came up with a proposition for you both. You'd both accompany him to Earth to fight and if neither of you played tricks and tried not to escape, you were granted freedom.  
You both immediately agreed because the two of you had nothing else to lose, and you had the chance to just be free. That night during one of your late-night chats Loki made you realize something about yourself.  You had always lived in your father's shadow wanting to be just like him. Always trying to prove something as if you were just like him, when in fact you were not like him.
You didn't commit crimes like him nor treat people as he did. The truth was you played a facade afraid of what he would think if you did not follow in his lead.  As soon as you return to earth you would finally live your life the way you wanted to, not in your father’s shadow or living up to expectations.  
So the battle came, fighting Thanos was an exhausting and powerful struggle. Everyone fought with everything they had, tooth and nail by the end of it, victory was made.  You knew this was not the end, though, for once again, you met the Avengers in the aftermath, and they kept their guard up as they remembered their last interaction with you. 
Although you did fight with them, they didn't know if your intentions were the same as your last interaction with them. Sure enough, when the smoke cleared, you had a civil conversation with them and reassured them you'd changed and did not want to cause any harm. You somewhat cleared things up with Tony and in return, he offered you a makeshift bedroom in the Stark Tower for the time being. 
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As you lay down to rest, you couldn't help but have your mind wonder about what you wanted to do next. You've gone through quite a lot and hadn't the time to really process anything.  Your thoughts were interrupted when a knock on your door brought you out of your head. You did not expect anybody to be visiting you at this hour or at all. 
As you walked to the door you felt a little on edge as you reached for the handle. When you opened the door to your surprise, there stood Loki. You could tell something was troubling him, and hesitantly you opened the door wider, inviting him in.  Silence quickly unfolded over the two of you. 
You were about to ask what he needed when all of a sudden, his hand came up and cupped your face. You locked your gaze with his. He briefly looked down at your lips before he leaned down and kissed you. 
His lips were soft as they kissed you, but panic set in, and you pushed him away. “What the hell!” you took a step back to create distance between you two. “What was that, Loki?” 
“I believe it's called a kiss, darling” he smirked, seeing how the pet name made your cheeks tint a light pink.  
“No shit, it was a kiss, but why?” you crossed your arms.
“I know you’re quite stubborn, but I didn't think you were unaware” he walked closer to you and saw the confusion written on your face.  “I love you, y/n”, he confessed. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest at the way it was beating at his confession.
Your mouth opened and words flew out before you had the chance to process what you said. “ Pft, yeah right. You can't love someone you don't know especially someone like me.” You looked away from him. 
" Surely spending months next to each other in a cell, while bonding over our traumas should be classified as getting to one another." he laughs as you roll your eyes. " You cannot tell me that you don't feel the energy between the two of us. When you say someone like you, please do not refer to your looks. In my eyes you are the most beautiful woman, every inch and curve of your body I wish to worship and kiss even if I have to get down on my knees. " he walks closer to you and you feel your breath hitch when he places his hands on your wide hips. 
You place the palm of your hands on his chest, and you look him in the eyes " I can't lie and say I don't feel anything for you, but things are complicated. We want different things and I'm afraid to love you and then lose you." Loki moves his left hand from your hip to your cheek. " I want you and that means I'll follow you wherever you go" You tilted your head up and kissed him this time, and you moved your hands from his chest to his face. When you pulled back you rested your forehead agist his. " let's see where the journey takes us"
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TAGS🏷️
@caothicshit @huntressandlioness1 @huntress-artemiss @eleniblue @just-another-blog34411 @Slave4loki @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @sarahrogersevans @tomandcakes @lyds247 @lokisgoodgirl @nana1000night @hannibals-favourite-meal
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lemonykoo · 1 year
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last minute christmas gift - diluc
Pairing: Boyfriend!Diluc x Reader
Genre: Fluff! Female reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Notes: Diluc has to work Christmas day and you’re bound and determined to visit him to spend the holiday with him. Only, the winery staff seems to be doing everything they can to prevent you from leaving and your boyfriend actually wasn’t at work this whole time…? Merry Christmas/happy holidays everyone!! (sorry for any typos i wrote this kinda quickly so i could post it on christmas day hehe)
You could hear soft footsteps approach you as you fished through your jewelry box in search of the perfect pair of earrings to match your outfit. “Oh y/n, where might you be going?” Adelinde’s gentle voice cut through the air and you saw her standing in the doorway to the guest bedroom you were staying in for the holidays. Diluc had invited you stay a few nights at the winery to celebrate Christmas with him and the staff. You wouldn’t be able to visit your family this Christmas, and vice versa since they were so far away in Fontaine, so you accepted your boyfriend’s invitation gladly. You arrived the day before Christmas Eve and you would be leaving tomorrow morning, though you would probably be back the next day since you two spent so much time together.
“I was going to go visit Diluc while he’s working,” you answered, softly cursing as the back of an earring stabbed your finger. “Oh, these would be perfect,” you thought as you grabbed them.
“Oh?” Adelinde’s eyes widened slightly before she smiled kindly. “Y/n, it’s so cold outside, though, are you sure? He’ll be back later.”
It was unfortunate that Diluc had to work today – on Christmas, no less. You understood that it gave Charles the chance to go home and see his family, but still it was upsetting for you so hear last minute that you would barely spend any time with your lover on such a special occasion. That’s why you thought you could go visit him while he was at work, so you could make the most of the holiday. Sure, you spent almost every day with the man, but on Christmas? This was special! “But it’s Christmas, Adelinde. It’ll just be another gift to him today.”
The head maid sighed. “I know, y/n,” she said as she watched you gather your coat and push past her to leave the room. “But do you think he’d be very happy with you if you walked all the way there in the freezing cold?”
A soft smile came across your features as you imagined him gently scolding you. He wouldn’t be mad, of course, but he cared for your safety and he wouldn’t be too thrilled if he heard you had done something like that. “No,” you answered. “But I don’t care. It’s the thought that counts.”
Adelinde bit her lip. Her main job today was to make sure you didn’t leave the winery and here you were, dressed up in your cutest attire to venture out into the snowy afternoon. Luckily, Elzer was there to help.
“Y/n, his shift will end before you know it and then you’ll have him all to yourself the rest of the night,” the butler interrupted, moving a bit to block you from the doorway. “There’s no sense in risking your health. I went out earlier and I nearly slipped and broke my back.”
It seemed like everyone was against you today, despite it being such a joyful holiday. A visible pout appeared on your face as you turned your direction away from leaving and to the couch in front of the fireplace. You admit, you were being a bit silly acting this way since you would be seeing him later in the night, but you really didn’t understand why he had to work Christmas. Instead, he could be here, enjoying the lovely desserts Adelinde had made with you. If anything, you were starting to get a bit annoyed. Here you were, already dressed up pretty, wearing your new perfume gifted to you by the special man in question earlier in the morning, not able to go out as you had planned. You were so frustrated that you felt a tear surface but you blinked it back. It was silly to cry over this. There was no need to act this way over such a small matter.
An hour and a half had passed, and you noticed that none of the staff were in the room with you. They had been idly lurking around, preventing you from trying to leave once more but after Adelinde had given you a slice of pie and a blanket so you could lounge on the couch, it seemed they had assumed that you had given up your endeavors. Their mistake, because you had never take your shoes off and seeing that your opportunity was open, you quickly sprung up, grabbing your coat and quietly slipping out of the winery’s front door.
It was cold, bitterly cold. The wind nipped you as you pulled your coat tightly to you and there was a thin sheet of ice on the ground outside the door. You felt your nose and cheeks turning red already, so that just meant you had to be faster in your travels. You turned to make your escape only to run right smack dab into someone else. If you didn’t know any better, you would have assumed it was Adelinde and begged for forgiveness, but the figure was much too tall to be her.
“Trying to run away from here already, hm?” Diluc chuckled, planting a small kiss on the top of your head while he wrapped you in a hug. “I can tell you’ve already been using the gift I got you.” Before you could say anything, the winery owner was guiding you back inside, which you were thankful for since you were already freezing. You made a mental note that you probably wouldn’t last two seconds in Dragonspine.
Upon entering the winery once more, you were expecting to see the staff giving you dirty looks for making your escape. Instead, they were all giving you warm-hearted smiles. You think that worried you more. “I wanted to come see you while you were at work since it’s Christmas,” you said, looking up at Diluc. His eyes seemed to be glowing, giving him a very cheery and bright appearance. You noticed he kept the small braid you had done earlier, pulling it into the high ponytail he had his hair in.
“I appreciate the thought, my dear,” he responded, guiding you back to the couch you had just come from. Unknown to you, he looked at the winery staff members, which was a message to leave the room while he sat you down in front of the fire, to which they all obeyed immediately. The plate from your pie from earlier was gone now. “About that, y/n, I wasn’t at Angel’s Share.”
You blinked as you watched him give you a sorrowful expression. His cheeks were flushed from the cold outside, but he was warm to the touch. Maybe that’s why the staff was trying to keep you from leaving. “H-huh? What do you mean?”
“Well,” he started, looking over to the crackling fire, “there was a gift I really wanted you to have and today was the only day I could get it. And this was the most important gift I wanted you to receive, so I couldn’t pass it up. I’m sorry for lying to you, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise for you.”
Your brows were furrowed as you felt him grab your hand and give it a little squeeze. “It’s okay, love, but you didn’t need to lie to me.” You shifted a bit closer to him and you could smell his cologne waft in the air around you. The moment felt tender and warm.
“I hope you can forgive me for that,” he said, almost bashful. “That’s not the point, though, dear.” He cleared his throat and took your other hand, bringing it to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckles. “I know this might be a bit sudden since we haven’t really talked about it, but I thought that this was the right moment. We’ve been together for almost four years now-”
“Are you breaking up with me?” You asked suddenly, interrupting him since you felt like maybe this conversation wasn’t going to end in the way you wanted it to. Your mouth worked faster than your brain this time, and you pressed a hand to your mouth out of shock.
Diluc’s eyes widened, and he blinked as his posture seemed to tense up before relaxing once more. “N-no,” he stammered before reaching into the coat he wore and pulling out the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. The diamonds in the golden ring caught the light from the fire just perfectly, making them glow like snowflakes in the winter sun. “I’m proposing to you.”
Now it was your turn to widen your eyes as you stared at the ring in disbelief. Diluc was right, this was a bit sudden, but you always imagined proposals were sudden and not always expected. Time seemed to slow down as your brain tried to form a coherent thought, but ultimately you were left speechless. Well, except for the eager “yes!” you exclaimed before grabbing him in a tight hug.
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I got a prompt for you! Prompt: Tired of the daily abuse he suffers, Izuku makes the choice to run away, hoping for his mother's life to get better once he's gone. Keep in mind this Izuku isn't blinded by the flashiness of heroics and gave up on it a long time ago.
So as Izuku wanders the streets alone, he meets up with some of the future LOV members such as Dabi, Toga, Spinner, Compress, ect.
Together they form a found family with a mission to work their way up to expose hero society and change it for the better (instead of whatever the hell the LOV were doing)
HELLO, I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, SCHOOL AND MY BRAIN FUCKED ME OVER, BUT Y E S!!!!! I LOVE
Okay, imma be honest, a large part of this is going to involve toga, because I love her so much and she deserves so much better than she got, and she and izuku would’ve been such good friends if they had met earlier
Tw: for bullying and self esteem issues (a lot of self blaming) and as a general rule for my headcanons,,,,,, ✨angst✨
Kaachan and his ✨henchmen✨ had been getting worse lately. Well, ever since his “diagnosis,” it had been getting worse and worse, but izuku was about to reach is breaking point
Every day, he heard about how it was his fault that his father left, that no one loved or cared about him, that the world would be better off without him, that his mother would be better off without him.
He could see how tired she was, he could tell that the bills were starting to stack up, and that kaachan repeatedly busting his hearing aids was Not Helping.
Really, izuku knew they were right (they’re not, I’ll fight them). If he wasn’t such a burden on his mother, she’d probably be a lot happier. She’d probably smile more. Sing more. Hell, her husband wouldn’t have left her if it hadn’t been for him!
His mom worked long hours, so he’d often wander through the streets if he didn’t have too much homework. It was rather peaceful in the early hours of the morning when his mother had the night shift and izuku would find his only friends in the alley cats
That being said, izuku also knew it was rather dangerous in dark alleyways during nightfall. Especially for a quirkless kid. But, that had never stopped him before, and so, when he hears muttering from a few streets over, he silently, curiously, stupidly! Izuku, turn back now! The rational part of his brain reprimanded.
He didn’t listen
Eventually, he found a girl in one alley, only a few turns away from his, she seemed to be taking to herself?
Well. Izuku wasn’t one to judge. Especially when he did the same thing!
But she seemed to be in distress. Her muttering was getting louder, and seemed to be turning into a full on beat down of her own misgivings
Again, izuku could relate
He approached her, asking if she was okay. He made sure to stay several meters away, he might not have much self preservation, but he wasn’t stupid
She looked at him frantically. Oh kami, why did she have a knife?! (Please imagine the vine there) she was telling him to stay back, too
But again, when has izuku ever done what people tell him to?
He tells her his name and tries to reassure her that he’s not going to hurt her, that she’s safe
It takes a while, but she is eventually able to calm down a bit
It’s strange really, two kids who couldn’t have been out of middle school out in the middle of the night. But, they started to talk.
For the first time since he was 4, izuku had someone he could consider a friend? Well. Aside from the cats, of course!
Toga was so kind! And she was just as excitable as him! She really liked cute things, so he decided that he had to show her all the pictures of his alley cat friends!
She. Loved. Them.
He taught her how to get close with them! You just had to be a little patient! She wasn’t the best with that, but that was okay! She would do anything for a friend, and her new friend really liked these cats! So, she could totally be patient for them!!
It was worth it too! They were so cute, and izu-Chan looked even cuter holding them!! (Not an izutoga ship, she just loves cute things)
The two young teens (I imagine they’re like,,, 13 and 14 around now? Maybe 14 and 15? Toga runs away after she graduates middle school at 15, so like,,,, around there), as the weeks go on and they get to know each other, toga begins to open up about her family’s hatred and suppression of her quirk, and izuku tells her about his quirklessness, the bullying, and the stress he puts on his mother
She is incredibly protective of him. That’s her little brother/best friend/only person who cares about her/her person.
He’s the same with her, really, just shows it a bit differently. Has 1000000% written 100+ page PowerPoints on how once she is and that she can do anything she puts her mind to
She’s more action and physical based. She’s very affectionate, she hugs him as often as she can. They’re both touch starved, and she knows she’s not the best with words. So, she steals shit for him.
He doesn’t know that it’s stealing at first, when she shows up with a new notebook after kaachan burned another one. She doesn’t get why he’s so worried about her stealing at first. It’s only from big companies and corporations that could afford to lose a few notebooks every now and then. He just doesn’t want her to get caught though. But she’s safe! Really!!
They find Dabi a few months later. He’s older than them by 7 and 8 years respectively, and he’s kind of an asshole. But toga likes his spunk and disregard for the rules. And izuku likes that he doesn’t care about quirks
Dabi and toga shit talk katsuki and I will not be told otherwise. Izuku feels bad at first, but they kinda put it into perspective of like, “how would you feel if he was doing/saying this stuff to/about us?” And izuku just like >:0
Obviously it took a while, and he still doesn’t know that they made shirts with katsuki’s face in the 🚫 sign, but I like to imagine that they show up to pick izuku up from school wearing them and bakugku had a conniption
Toga and izuku don’t actually run away until toga’s graduation from middle school
Some of her classmates pulled a really asshole prank on her and she had a panic attack. She ran away from the ceremony thing and was later found by a frantic izuku and dabi (her brothers)
She told them that she couldn’t go back. That her parents were mad at, no, disgraced by her
Dabi was mad. “More bitch ass parents. The worlds just fucken’ full of them”
- dabi, 2xxx
He offers to kill them for her. Izuku tells him no :( shame.
Let’s just say that this is around the time bakugou says his infamous “swan dive” comment and the sludge villain incident (I know I think both toga running away and that whole deal would happen around the relative same few months, so let’s just push them together! Why not!)
And the three decide to pull a little disappearing act
Well. Mainly toga and izuku. Dabi pulled his disappearing stunt a while ago. He gives them pointers. Dramatic bitch
Let’s be real, the three of them are all dramatic bitches
Izuku leaves a letter to his mom, explaining that he’s sorry for putting her in such a difficult place, and that he hopes she can find happiness, and that he’ll miss her.
:((((((((((((
They end up crashing a couple towns away in an abandoned building. Not very safe, but. Abandoned. Sooo
Toga says that the building is just like them
Abandoned
Dabi tells her not to look too deeply into it, but izuku thinks about that statement a lot
Spinner and dabi both have like… 0 respect for heroes. -10 actually. But, spinner is quite interested by these three vagabond’s plan to expose corrupt heroes and make society a better place, so, he tags along.
Mr. Compress catches dabi trying to pick pocket someone.
It goes badly </3
Dabi’s slight of hand just needs a bit of practice, and who’s better to teach him than a world class thief?
No one. That’s who.
Mr. Compress cannot believe he’s going to have to parent these teens and young adults. Fuck man. Can he leave now? He didn’t ask for this, he just wanted to share some tricks to the next generation of thieves, now he’s listening to this green child explain their plot for world domination?!
Oh, what’s that? It’s not world domination? Fine. Guess he’s going to teach these four how to steal shit because he will not be caught dead with criminals who don’t know how to complete a heist
Obviously, they go after endeavor first.
They take great joy in destroying him.
What?? Just because they aren’t the league of villains doesn’t mean our vigilante crew doesn’t enjoy some sweet sweet revenge on those who have hurt their little make shift family!
Mr. Compress is not a dad. He’s just not.
Did he show izuku all his masks and listen to the boy nerd out about them and their different histories and design origins? Yes. Did he think it was adorable? Yes.
That means nothing though and you can’t prove anything!
Spinner and dabi are the “cool” big brothers
Read: fucking dumbasses with issues with authority
It’s fine
Toga and izuku are feral sinanon rolls with issues with authority
Mr. Compress went from following his father’s footsteps in living life as a thief to overthrowing the hero commission with these kids who are all over a decade younger than him
Love that for him.
Dabi learns how to make katsudon for izuku when he’s homesick
Izuku helps dabi and toga deal with their quirk issues
They have a few run ins with stain, (spinner fanboys)
Izuku starts making them gear!
I don’t know why I love izuku making gear and tech, but he’s just such a smart and chaotic lad that I think it’s perfect for him
Definitely hacks into U.A. And plays online chess with nezu
He’s getting better
Nezu has heard whispers of their little group, and is quite excited to see how everything plays out!
I hope you liked thisss!!! Again, I am SO SORRY that this took so long. I had it in my drafts for about a week and worked on it when I could, but brain and homework were djsjcinsignaj
I love this thoughhhh!! Sorry if spinner and mr. Compress are ooc, I really don’t remember their personalities too much 😅 but I hope it was okay anyway!!!
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esta-elavaris · 7 months
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Flufftober Day 12: Fire & Ice - Aemond Targaryen/OC [1,409 words]
My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨
So starting this thing I was like "with thirty short stories in a month, there will inevitably be some that I'm not happy with" - and this is one of those ones.
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Jeyne could not sleep. It was little wonder, given the events of the day – King Viserys dead, Aegon crowned, Rhaenys and her dragon…war, in all likelihood. No, it was not strange that she could not find rest. The odd part, however, was likely that none of those elements were what truly kept her up.
“Think any louder, and the whole keep shall hear you.”
Aemond was better at feigning sleep than she was – and she started when he spoke.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“You should not be,” he murmured. “Nor should you fear war. Not when your husband rides Vhagar, and the enemy is a whore with a string of guileless bastards clutching at her skirts.”
Once she might have flinched at the harsh words, even despite the fact that they were not aimed at her. They were never aimed at her. Rolling over to face him, she found him watching her already – his one eye pinned on her thoughtfully, the sapphire in the socket of the other glinting in the meagre light of their bedchamber.
“It’s not that,” she said.
“What is it, then? Nightmares of whatever Aegon’s wondrous new policies may be?” he asked drily.
Jeyne knew better than to respond to that. While she doubted he’d hold anything she said against her – not now, not after all this time – she still knew better than to go wading into the fray the Targaryens created for themselves. She scarcely liked to speak ill of Rhaenyra and Daemon, and that was the favourite pastime around here
“Something you said,” she spoke seriously instead. “Earlier. Before you found him. Do you remember?”
The atmosphere of the keep had been stifling even upon waking, and when her handmaid solemnly brought out a gown of black for her to dress in that day, Jeyne had known what was going on immediately. Chilled by the dour day and the question of what would come next both – for anybody with a brain knew that they’d been standing on the precipice of something for a good while now, and this was the gust of wind all had been waiting for to catapult them over the edge – she’d been huddled in her mourning dress and a thick fur cloak, staring unseeingly into the fire when she saw Aemond for the first time since first rousing that morning.
He'd strode into their rooms, his jaw set and his gaze determined, his hand at her elbow as she stood so that he could pull her close and murmur in her ear.
“I heard about your father,” she said, brows knitted together in sympathy.
“King Viserys is dead, yes,” he said, before glancing at her handmaiden and getting closer still, his voice low. “And we cannot find Aegon.”
Strive as she might to remain uninvolved in the politics of the court, she was no simpleton. It was not difficult to put together why they sought him.
“I’m doubling your guard,” Aemond said, when he was satisfied she’d registered his meaning. “Do not leave your rooms ‘til I return.”
“But your mother…”
Surely she should go to the queen to offer…offer something.
“Stay here,” he reiterated. “If Aegon cannot be found, I shall be.”
He would be found, and he would be…
Jeyne stared at him disbelievingly. Not at the prospect of his being king, the Seven knew he’d be better at it than his brother, but at what it would mean for her. He offered a smug tight-lipped smile, something dangerously akin to excitement glimmering in his eye, leaning close so that he could kiss the top of her head. Precisely where a crown would sit.
“You’d make a perfect queen,” he said, lowly into her ear.
And then he’d been gone…leaving her with her many, many guard – and her many, many thoughts.
“Your guards must remain doubled until the unrest is dealt with,” he said. “Why? Has one of them troubled you?”
As he spoke, he pushed himself up – first onto his elbows, and then sitting upright properly, evidently discerning that this was evolving into a real conversation, and not a series of half-asleep murmurs that would soon give way to silence.
“No, not at all. It’s not that,” she shook her head.
None of them so much as spoke to her, and she much preferred it that way. Following his lead, she sat up too, turning to face him as she sat cross-legged on the bed.
“What, then?”
“You’d make a perfect queen,” she echoed his own words back at him.
Aemond was not the type for showering anybody with compliments, preferring instead for his esteem to show through his actions. He bestowed them sometimes, of course, she was not left feeling neglected, but they were always sincere. Never mindless flattery. On this one occasion, however, she would’ve been less troubled by those words if they were mere flattery.
As she said the words, she inspected his face carefully, seeking even the slightest hint of amusement, like he might begin laughing at her for taking seriously words that had been spoken in jest. If they had been spoken in jest.
But he didn’t so much as snort.
“What of it?” he frowned a little at her, leaning forward as though they were sharing secrets.
As he did so, his silken hair slid forth to hang around his face. He looked younger like this – without the eye patch and his hair down, waved awkwardly in places near the crown of his head from having the leather strap pressing down atop it all day.
“Aemond,” she breathed a laugh. “I’m not made of wax – I will not melt at the first lick of fire.”
“A good thing, considering you’re married to a dragon,” he murmured, his eye flickering down to her lips.
She would not allow them to grow sidetracked so easily.  
“But I am aware of my own weaknesses and where they lie,” she said, keeping her voice firm so she sounded factual and not, well, pathetic. “I’m made for supporting roles – behind the scenes. On the sidelines. Not…not queening. I could never do what your mother does…how well she does it…”
Already she regretted not just making an excuse about the excitement of the day and forcing herself to go to sleep. Because it did sound pathetic. And wet. And laughable. Like she was sitting here, begging him to praise her.
If he was annoyed, however, he hid it remarkably well.
“My mother adores you. She would help you, in the early days.”
As he spoke, his hand found hers amidst the sheets and he encouraged her forward, eventually throwing off the covers entirely so they could move without growing tangled.
“What is being my queen if not a support to your king? The most important supporting role you could ever play. You would keep my counsel…bear my children…perhaps even tempt the fools at court into thinking there’s some hidden softer side to me that they do not see,” he scoffed as if there was not.
Jeyne resisted the urge to point out she already did those things. Most of those things. The second was in the hands of the Seven, and it was too early yet to grow disappointed. But he was continuing, dragging her forth so that she straddled his lap, looking up at her as he spoke.
“Should you wish, that would be all there was to it. But you could be far greater than that,” he tucked a long dark lock of hair behind her ear as her hands found purchase at his shoulders.
“Oh?”
“Mm. We would sit the thrones, fire and ice. The dragon, and his snow queen from the North. Funny, then, that you would be the warm one and I the cold. The shows we could put on – of my fury, and only being merciful when you take it upon yourself to temper my worst impulses. We would have them all dancing to whatever tune we played, however we so chose to play it.”
“And you’d be alright with that, would you? The Seven Kingdoms thinking I could manipulate you?”
“That yours would be the only opinion I’d consider,” he corrected, kissing her once before he continued. “And the same in turn. Fuck everybody else. Their opinions, their whispers, their desires. Fuck them all.”
Jeyne was too caught up in all of his pretty words to even think of reminding him that Aegon had  been found in the end.
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Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune
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worldofheroes · 2 years
Text
A Family, With You
doctor strange x fem!reader, reader x america chavez (platonic, mother/daughter)
summary: When Stephen sees you care for America after she’s been crying, he realizes something he never thought he’d ever want to do.
warnings: none besides it’s mostly reader caring for America, it’s just wholesome.
a/n: I’m so sorry (I’m not at all sorry) I’m stuck in this domestic strange world
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Ever since America came into you and Stephen’s lives, things became… different.
A good different, though. You had mentioned to Stephen once or twice before that you wanted kids, but he was hesitant. He always claimed that after working with Peter Parker made him lose interest in having kids.
You reminded him that Peter was a kid with superpowers.
While America also had superpowers, none of that mattered when it came to the young girl. As the three of you began to get to know each other, you and Stephen became smitten with her.
“Wong told me America is learning quickly,” you tell Stephen late one night as the two of you get in bed.
“Yes, she’s doing great,” Stephen smiles. “She needs to slow down from what I’ve heard.”
“Reminds me of someone else,” you tease.
“Watch it,” Stephen snips.
You smile as you move closer to Stephen, and he wraps his arms around you.
“I’m glad she’s here,” you say, staring at the ceiling.
“Me too,” Stephen says, holding you even tighter.
There’s a soft knock on your door, you almost didn’t hear it.
“America, is that you?” you call out.
“What are you saying?” Stephen asks.
“You didn’t hear that?” you ask him, furrowing your brow. You get out of bed and walk to the door.
You slowly open the door to see America standing there, eyes watery.
“Oh, honey, are you okay?” you say, wrapping her up in a hug.
Stephen gets out of bed to join you, his face riddled with concern.
“I like living here with you guys but… I miss my moms,” America says.
“I know, I know,” you hum, holding her close and rubbing her head gently.
“We’re going to find them, America,” Stephen whispers.
“Can I… stay with you guys for tonight?” America says, still sniffling from the crying session you’re sure she had moments earlier.
You glance over to Stephen. He nods.
“Of course, come on,” you say, taking her hand and helping her to the bed.
Stephen gets into bed on the other side, and you lay between him and America.
“I’m sorry, I feel stupid asking to do this,” America says.
“You’ve been through some traumatic events, America. I understand. You can stay with us whenever you want,” you tell her.
“We’ll always be here for you, kid,” Stephen chimes in.
“Thank you,” America says, wiping the tears from her face.
You pull her into a hug and kiss the top of her head. You hum to her softly as she falls asleep.
The next morning, Stephen is already out of bed when you wake up. You move, and America doesn’t wake. You pull the blankets up around her and quietly leave, heading to the library where you know you can find Stephen.
“Hey you,” you say upon entering.
“(Y/n),” Stephen says with a soft smile, standing up. “How’s America?”
“She’s still sleeping, but I’m going to go back after I talk to you so she’s not alone.”
“You’re a great mom,” Stephen says.
“What?” you say, slightly caught off guard.
“You’d make a great mom. I mean, your motherly instincts are kicking in with America here and… It makes me want to have our own kids.”
“Oh,” you say, still trying to get your thoughts straight.
Stephen wraps you up in a hug. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“No, it’s not that, I just… never would’ve thought you’d want kids.”
“I think my life situation has changed dramatically recently, and I like the change.”
“Well, I’d say you need to put a ring on it and maybe we can discuss kids,” you tell him with a mischievous smile.
“I’ll think about it.” Stephen leans down and kisses you. “You better get back to America and make sure she’s okay.”
“Alright, as long as you think about what I said,” you tease, walking away from him.
“I told you I would!”
You get back to the bedroom and America is still asleep. You get into bed next to her, and she stirs, moving to face you and snuggling close.
“I love you,” she mutters, half asleep.
You kiss her head and fall back asleep next to her, happy with the family you’ve created with Stephen.
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gotham-fan-shit · 2 years
Text
Bad Drunk
Pairing: Batboys x GN!Reader
Request: to summarise; reader gets very drunk
Warnings: Emetophobia (!!), profanity
Word Count: 687
A/N: Request asked generally for batboys but i limited it to those over 21 (as to not condone underage drinking which is #bad). enjoy!
Bruce
It was late when you came home, but it’s always late when he does, too. Alfred told him what happened. He found you in the bathroom, clothes stained, keeled over as you hurled into the toilet.
It’s not like you’ve never drunk before, but never enough to properly get hungover. On the positive, you’ve not blacked out. So it could always be worse.
Bruce comes up behind you and crouches down. You want to turn to smile at him, or talk to him, but you’re preoccupied with sobs and vomit, and you’d rather not look him in the eyes whilst you multitask.
In the end, he just sits with you. His hands grip your soldiers, and he’s quiet; understanding. He stays with you until the vomiting stops, and wipes your tears until those stop, too. He puts you to bed, getting you changed. Maybe he’ll ridicule you for it in the morning, or lecture you for your irresponsibility, getting so drunk in a city like this one. Maybe he won’t. For now, you let him stroke your head and you sleep in his arms.
Dick
He’s holding your hair back, combing through it as you kneel over the toilet bowl. He heard you in the bathroom when he came back from patrol, and having him gently comforting you in full gear is wildly comforting, and a little intimidating.
He mutters little things to you, but the rush of blood in your ears is just a bit too loud for you to be able to hear over. His arm is round you, supporting you as you grip the edge of the seat. Your head is pounding, and you figure constantly looking down isn’t helping.
Dick sits and rubs your back, running his fingertips up and down your spine. He’s being sweet, and gentle. You know if he were the one sick, he’d be insisting that he was fine and for you not to worry. You’ll take the excuse for him to fuss over you, though. It’s rare since he’s so often busy with something or another.
Even if the situation is making you feel like you’ve been dragged to hell and back. It’s worth it for his little murmurs and caresses (or at least you tell yourself. They don’t exactly stop you from feeling like shit).
So you let him comfort you until you don’t need him to anymore. Even then, you let him take care of you. He brings you water and pills and ticks you into bed. He’s still busy, working on some case or stopping a sibling from dying, but he occasionally checks up on you to make sure you’re okay. So, as far as awful drunkenness goes, this time wasn’t so bad.
Jason
Jason’s with you, and you’re drinking. You don’t normally, at least not on the scale you are tonight. He’s impressed, firstly, and then as the night progresses, he regrets not stopping you earlier.
By the time you two get home, you’re fumbling over yourself. By the time the proper purging of the alcohol begins, he’s already got you to the bathroom, holding everything out of your way as you throw up far more than you think can fit inside of you.
He seems almost bored as he crouches, one arm raised as the other offers you a towel to wipe your mouth with. And once you start crying, to wipe those with.
He’s surprisingly (and comfortingly) chill about the whole thing. Which you suppose is good. Maybe him completely fretting over you would make you feel worse. But he doesn’t, and it’s probably in part due to the “been there, done that” attitude he has.
Besides the point, once you’re done hurling your guts - and more - out, you’re exhausted. And he is, too, though of course he wouldn’t admit it. Drinking makes him tired. Nonetheless, after a small clean up, you get into bed together, and swiftly fall asleep. And it’s nice, and it’s warm and it probably won’t happen again until the next time one of you gets unignorably sick. You don’t mind, though. The once is more than enough for you.
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Text
That Beautiful Sound (Matt Murdock x F!Nelson Reader)
A/N: This is what happens when Aaron listens to musicals at work and constantly thinks about Matt Murdock. Oh my good gosh this is the stupidest thing I've ever written Please send me requests!
Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Nelson Reader
Summary:
You and Foggy go to see Beetlejuice: The Musical on Broadway, but neglect to tell Matt.
Word Count: 1,239
Warnings for Chapter: none
Matt knew better than anyone not to question it when it came to you and Foggy's relationship. 
Twins, fraternal twins. Close as any brother and sister could be. 
You finished each other’s sentences, had a myriad of inside jokes and were always there for each other. If anything, he admired it. 
But he was also intimidated. 
Cause he quickly found himself falling for his best friend’s sister, and he didn’t want to stop. 
It was weird for a while, sneaking around. It didn’t take long for the two of you to start a relationship. After years of friendship, it felt as natural as breathing air. Late nights in his apartment when he’d sneak you in. The brushes of fingertips when you’d visit your brother at the Nelson & Murdock office. 
He wasn’t used to this feeling, but if this was what true happiness felt like, he wanted everything and more. 
When Foggy did find out, sure it became weird. The time it took to slowly bring your hidden behavior to the light was strange. He didn’t want to be the thing that drove a wedge between such a strong family. 
But in the end, it was all alright. Foggy approved. You were amazing. Matt? He was happy. There was nothing to worry about. 
Or so he thought. 
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Something you and Foggy had done since you were children was pick a day out of the month to just hang out with each other. While their mom had deemed it “sibling dates” - much to Matt’s amusement - he knew it was important to the two of you to make sure that you’d always be close. 
Again, Matt didn’t question it. Where you guys went or what you did, he didn’t give too much thought. All he knew was you’d come home (usually tipsy) with a smile on your face and laughter that would paint his mind like sunshine.
Matt was running late into the office one morning. You had left earlier for your own job in an office, but you always made it a habit to drop by here and there throughout the day when you could. So when he heard your voice from down the block, he immediately found himself with a smile. 
“The sound of a scream, is music to me. A sound that says fifteen years full-time therapy.” 
The sound made him stop straight in his tracks. He loved it when you sang. Whether it was under your breath when you were making food or in the shower, your voice brought a smile to his face. 
Now, he was just confused. 
“Trauma and fear, it sings in my ear!” 
Foggy’s voice flew through the air. He tilted his head to try and listen closer, he wasn’t hearing this right… was he? 
Before he knew it, he found himself up the stairs of the office and swinging the door open. It only took him a moment to realize Foggy was sitting at his desk while you were at his, your feet up on the table. 
As if nothing ever happened. 
“Hi, sweetheart!” He followed your footsteps as they came towards him. He kissed you hello, just like he always did. But he was still frozen. 
“You all right, Matty?” you asked, pressing your hand against his chest. 
“Yeah. I’m fine.” 
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A few days later, Matt found himself in the same position. 
The three of you were having dinner at Foggy’s that night. While he had decided to stay later at the office so he could be free that weekend, you and Foggy had gone ahead. 
He was turning the block to Foggy’s building when he heard it again. 
“Marrying my own creepy old guy!”
There it was, your singing again. 
“My creepy old guy, my creepy old guy. I’m so happy I could cry.” 
Before he knew it, he was going as fast as he could to get to the door of the building. (If it hadn’t been for the hotdog vendor on the corner, he’d have thrown his walking stick and bolted). He wasn’t even sure why he was so stressed out from this. He could hear the beat of your heart, steady and sharp. You were happy. 
Now it was Foggy’s turn again. 
“Have you guys seen ‘Lolita’? This is just like that, but fine!” 
Just like that, but fine? Underage relationships? What was Foggy on? He knew better than this behavior. Something had to be wrong. 
He burst through the door and up the stairs to Foggy’s place, letting himself in without a moment to spare. You and Foggy froze in mid-spot, arms up as if you had been dancing in the living room. 
“What the hell are you guys doing?” he asked, the words coming out of him as he tried to catch his breath. 
You and Foggy looked at each other, he could feel the confusion radiating off the two of you. 
“Waiting for you?” asked Foggy. “We didn’t want to order the food before you got here. Chinese or Indian?” 
His breath was still heavy as he tried to calm down. Why were you guys being so normal? Why were you pretending he hadn’t just heard what he did? 
“Matty? What’s wrong babe?” You stepped toward him for a hug, but he quickly stepped back. 
“Matt, what the hell man?” asked Foggy. 
“Matty?” 
“Look, I know that the two of you are close, but we need to talk.” 
“About what?” you asked. 
“The songs I keep hearing you guys sing?” 
“Matt, what the hell are you talking about?” 
“The songs! I get close to the building and hear it! ‘Creepy old guy, marrying my creepy old guy?’ ‘Lolita, but fine’? What the hell, guys?! This is wrong!” 
You and Foggy glanced at each other as the heavy silence set in. 
And then you both burst out laughing. 
Matt stood there confused. Now he really didn’t know what to think. 
“What the hell, guys?” 
You and Foggy couldn’t stop laughing. Foggy was bent over the back of his couch, tears running down his face. You weren’t much better, having to use the kitchen table to hold yourself up.
“Matty, oh my god.” You could barely get the words out between laughs. 
“It’s Beetlejuice!” said Foggy. He was standing himself back up, trying to catch his breath. 
“What?” 
“Oh, sweetheart.” You stepped towards him again, this time placing both of your hands on his cheeks. “You’re the sweetest man alive, you know that?” 
“Can someone please explain what’s going on?” asked Matt. 
“Matty, you know how me and Fogs like to go and spend a day with each other like once a month?” you asked. 
“Yeah…” 
“Well, we went to go see a Broadway show a few weeks ago.” You said. 
“We went to go see Beetlejuice,” said Foggy. “Beetlejuice the musical. We’ve been singing songs from THAT, Matt!” 
“Did you really think we were doing something bad or weird?” you asked. 
“I didn’t know what to think! All I heard were the words!” said Matt. He was embarrassed now. He could feel the flush in his cheeks and knew that they were turning bright red. 
You leaned over to kiss him. He relaxed a bit, opening himself up to you as you passed your tongue across his lips. You broke the kiss before speaking again. 
“Come on, Matty. We’ll play you the album over dinner. Now, answer the question. Chinese or Indian?” 
“Chinese.” 
A/N: I tried proofreading as best as I could, please feel free to point out if I missed something. Requests are open so please send one in if you'd like!
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berenwrites · 11 months
Text
Beyond the Battle - Chapter 13 - Stranger Things - Steddie
Beyond the Battle­: Action & Consequence
Click here for All Posted Chapters
Summary: Steve hits things with a bat or gets hit depending on who you ask. He definitely does not have anything to do with the psychic stuff. That is El’s domain. However, as Vecna is defeated, the rules change.
Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)
Other Relationships: Steve & Robin, Steve & Dustin, Eddie & Dustin
Rating: Teen
A/N: Multi-chapter story, updated regularly. Honestly not sure how many chapters it will have yet because it's still a bit hand wavy in the middle, but definitely more than 12. Thank you to my beta for find my mistakes and to all those who read/like/reblog.💖 Follow #st:beyond-the-battle for updates.
Also on AO3
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Chapter 13.    Moving Forward
Hopper appeared just before lunch carrying two large dishes of food from Joyce. Steve had sent round a walkie ask earlier to see if anyone needed to go to the store like he did, and apparently that had made up Joyce’s mind to make sure the hoard at his house were fed. He made a mental note to pick up Joyce some things at the store when he went later, while he popped the casseroles in the oven to keep warm.
“Are you staying for some of this amazing smelling food?” Steve asked after he set the temperature and turned back to the ex-police chief hovering in his kitchen.
The kids were all currently in the backyard blowing off some steam since Steve and Eddie had both declared they were done for now. Robin was also outside, supposedly to make sure no one got themselves killed because Lucas was encouraging Dustin to try and climb a tree, but Steve was pretty sure she was egging them on.
“Well, mostly I came to deliver a message, but I could be persuaded,” Hopper replied.
“What’s up, Chief?” Eddie asked from where he was lounging in a chair.
“I spoke to Owens this morning before dropping in to talk to Powell,” Hopper said, which definitely caught Steve’s attention. “There is going to be a press conference this afternoon at five where Chief Powell is going to make it very clear, you are no longer a suspect in the murders in this town.”
Eddie sat up straight.
“How did you manage that?” Steve asked.
“Owens and his people are coming up with an airtight cover story,” Hopper told them, “and we haven’t ironed the details out yet, but it’s going to be something to do with the undercover angle we were using for me coming back from the dead.”
Steve remembered hearing something about that before they had all been allowed back to their homes, but he’d been a bit distracted since.
“I explained to Powell I couldn’t discuss the details yet, but how wrong this town was and that he needs to get on the right side of this story before he looks like a complete idiot,” Hopper went on. “He agreed when I mentioned the Feds.”
“So, I’m going to be free and clear?” Eddie asked, voice higher than normal and full of incredulity.
Steve didn’t blame him, after all the police had done nothing to help him so far.
“That’s the plan,” Hopper replied, “although you probably want to lie low for a while longer until we can get the full cover story out there and everyone gets the message.”
“Holy shit,” Eddie said, sitting back in his chair and staring into space for a while as if he was having trouble getting his head round that.
“So, Powell and Owens know Eddie is alive?” Steve asked as it occurred to him.
Hopper nodded.
“But they are the only two and it’s not going to be made public knowledge,” the man told them. “They needed to know so they realise how important this is. Clearing the name of a dead man isn’t as much of a priority.”
“Can I tell my uncle?” Eddie asked, leaning forward again.
“It might be danger…” Hopper started to say.
“We could bring him here,” Steve interrupted before Hopper could say no. “Hop, Wayne thinks Eddie is dead. If it was your kid, you’d want to know that wasn’t true, wouldn’t you?”
He’d heard the desperate edge in Eddie’s tone. While he had no idea what was going on in Eddie’s head, he could imagine. If it had been him, while he was in hiding, he wouldn’t have wanted to involve those he loved, but Hopper’s news changed all that for Eddie.
“Yeah,” Hopper said after a few seconds, “yeah, I would. But do it before the press conference if you can. The news people will no doubt want someone to talk to when this goes live, and Wayne Munson is the obvious candidate, so they will be looking for him.”
“How much can I tell him?” Eddie asked next.
“My cover story is I went undercover with the Feds,” Hopper replied, “but Owens hasn’t come up with the details yet. Apparently, he’s still working them out so the paper trail will stand up. We’ll work you in somehow, either as an innocent bystander caught up in it, or as a confidential informant or something, but until it’s finalised, go with ‘sorry I can’t talk about it yet’.”
“I don’t like lying to my uncle,” Eddie said, playing with his fingers as if he still had his rings on.
“Think of it as protecting him,” Hopper said. “The Upside Down might be closed off now, but just knowing about it puts people in danger.”
“Russians,” Steve muttered before he could stop himself.
“Yeah, and any other foreign or domestic power who decides opening a gate might be in their best interest,” Hopper agreed.
Eddie looked between them.
“Okay,” he said eventually, and Steve so wanted to walk over and give him a hug.
“I could take Dustin and track him down,” Steve said, already standing away from where he was leaning on the counter.
“Food first,” Hopper said before he could get ahead of himself. “He’s staying at the Palace Motel and he’s usually there or at the school. He shouldn’t be hard to find. Now I am going out there to make sure no one dies, because I just saw Henderson nearly fall out of a tree.”
As soon as Hopper walked out the back door muttering about damn kids, Steve stepped across to where Eddie was sitting.
“Okay?” he asked, reaching out to place a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
“No more running from the law,” was the somewhat happy reply, but Eddie’s smile did not quite reach his eyes.
“It’s hard,” Steve said, because he was pretty sure he understood, “but Hop’s right, it keeps them safe.”
“But how do I explain where I’ve been?” Eddie asked. “What about when all this,” he gestured around himself, “goes back to normal and I wake him up in the middle of the night screaming?”
“Don’t lie,” was the best advice Steve could give. “Tell him you’ve been through hell, just don’t tell him how literal that was.”
“God, I hate this cloak and dagger bullshit,” Eddie said, staring at the floor.
“It gets easier,” Steve did his best to be reassuring. “Which should probably be worrying, but we’ve all been through it and we can help.”
“This is like your, what, fourth go round with all this shit?” Eddie asked.
“Fifth is you count the first confrontation with Vecna and his ultimate demise as separate events,” he replied, going for a lighter tone. “You’d think the government would be better at this by now.”
“Why should they worry when they have an elite force of battle toughened children to do it for them?” Eddie asked in his most sarcastic manner.
“Don’t ever call the kids that to their faces or we will never hear the end of it,” Steve said. “Can you imagine Dustin?”
“Yeah, an ego boost it not something that kid needs,” Eddie agreed, placing a hand over Steve’s and giving his fingers a light squeeze.
It wasn’t a resolution, but they were getting there.
~*~
“So,” Steve said, sitting down next to Hopper in the backyard, “how bad is it?”
Most of the others were inside now devouring Joyce’s offerings and just about everything else Steve had left in the house. He planned on fitting in a grocery run at some point in the afternoon or evening, depending on how long it took to track down Wayne Munson. When he’d seen Hopper sitting alone, he’d decided to broach the other subject on his mind.
Hopper sighed, taking another bite of his food before saying anything.
“It’s fine,” Hopper said, “as you can plainly see.”
Steve raised both his eyebrows and gave the other man a look.
“Hop,” he said, “you’re talking to the guy who learned how to mask a migraine that could knock out an elephant. So cut the crap.”
“You get migraines?” Hopper asked.
“I did,” he replied, “for a while after Billy and the plate, and then again after Starcourt. Lasted a couple of months each time. I guess now we know why they went away. But we aren’t talking about me.”
Hopper looked down at his food.
“What did you feel the other night?” Hopper asked eventually.
“Pain,” Steve admitted, “but nothing concrete, so you’re going to have to tell me.”
Another sigh answered his question.
“You can’t help me, Kid,” Hopper said, “Owens had his people give me a once over and things have healed wrong. It’s too late, there’s no putting it right without major surgery and even that would be doubtful.”
“They can’t put it right. What if I can?” he countered. “I can’t move things with my mind, well I can, but, yeah, definitely don’t want to try that again, but I can do this. I don’t understand it, but part of me must do. You could at least let me try.”
“Why? It’s just pain,” Hopper replied.
“Yeah, and no one deserves that,” Steve said. “And if that isn’t enough, think of it as an experiment.”
“For what?”
“For helping Max,” he replied, revealing the ace in his hand. “From what we’ve heard, she has what the doctors think are untreatable injuries too, she’s blind. If I can heal you, maybe I can heal her too, but I wouldn’t want to give her false hope, so, yeah, an experiment.”
Hopper glared at him.
“Fuck,” the man said under his breath. “You are a crafty bastard.”
Steve smiled his most devious smile.
“Just occasionally I take after my mother,” he replied. “I mean, don’t hold your breath for it to happen again, but mark it on the calendar.”
“Lord help us,” Hopper said and shook his head.
They fell into silence again for a while.
“So when might you plan on this experiment?” Hopper finally asked.
“You could come back tonight, after Eddie and Wayne have had their reunion,” Steve suggested.
“Isn’t that too soon?” Hopper said, frowning. “You raised the dead only yesterday.”
Steve gave Hopper a long cool look, the man had to have heard what he had to say about that at least three times the previous day.
“Okay, okay,” Hopper said, mouth twisting into something that vaguely resembled a smile, “no resurrections, but my point still stands.”
“I’m good,” Steve replied, “not, I’m fine, because we both know what that means, I really am good. It seems that as long as I consume my own body weight in food I bounce back. Honestly haven’t felt this good in a while.”
“You been healing yourself?” Hopper asked.
“Not consciously except when I healed where Eddie bit me,” he admitted (they filled Hopper in on their vampire investigations), “but my bites are almost completely gone, I can barely see where they were.”
He lifted the edge of his shirt. Where there had still been angry pink scar tissue before, there was almost smooth slightly discoloured skin. He’d noticed it in the mirror that morning, but he’d had more important things on his mind.
“I think, maybe, consciously acknowledging I have these powers kicked my instincts into gear to fix me without holding back,” he said with a small shrug. “I woke up like this today. They weren’t sore anymore yesterday, but they were still obvious.”
When he dropped his shirt again, Hopper shook his head and looked away for a moment.
“Waking miracles,” he just about heard the other man mutter to himself.
He gave Hopper whatever time he needed and waited for a proper response.
“You don’t have to,” Hopper started to say.
“I want to,” Steve said, shutting that down. “I kind of need to,” he admitted.
Hopper frowned in thought, but sighed again rather than voicing what he was actually thinking.
“For Max?” Hopper said after a few moments.
“For Max,” he agreed, because he was willing to pretend that was all it was if he had to.
“Tonight.”
He nodded and Hopper nodded back. They had a deal.
End of Chapter 13
Chapter 14
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stargazer-sims · 2 years
Text
Journal Entry #44 (part six)
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Yuri
I’m back at home now, as I’m sure you’ve already gathered from the beginning of this very long entry. It’s been an absolutely awful day, and I think the only good thing I can say about it is that Victor and I still have each other. There was a point in the day when I was truly afraid I’d be alone, and I don’t even have the words to express how grateful I am that Victor is going to be okay. 
‘Okay’ is a subjective term, of course. I’m realistic enough to understand that we have a long road ahead of us, and he might never be exactly the same as he was before today, but I’m willing to accept that. I love him, no matter what. That isn’t going to change. 
I hated leaving him tonight. He begged me not to, and he was crying, and I felt like my heart would shatter into a thousand pieces as I kissed him goodnight. Although I asked, the hospital staff wouldn’t make an exception and let me stay with him. Visiting hours were over at eight o’clock. I’ll go back in the morning, but it’s going to be a long night for both of us in between now and then.
The first thing I did when I got home was to text Taka, Seiji and Sakura to give them an update. I’d heard from Taka earlier, when he texted me to say that my father had relieved him and Seiji of responsibility for Yuki and that he was taking her to our grandmother’s house. Taka said they were all leaving the hospital at that point, and made me promise to keep them in the loop.
I texted Mr. Tanaka with a quick update as well, with a promise to call him in the morning. He wished me and Victor well, and said he’d be glad to hear from me tomorrow.
The next person I tried to reach was Victor’s mother. I still hadn’t heard from her, and it made me wonder if she even knew I’d phoned. I had called during what was essentially the middle of the night in her time zone, after all, and Dr. Julian hadn’t sounded particularly alert when he answered the phone. The call went to voicemail, and this time I left a message. I asked her to call me immediately, as soon as she heard it.  That was all I could do.
With my communication efforts made, the next thing I decided I needed to do was what I’m doing right now; recording this entry. Getting all my thoughts and feelings out like this really helps, and today has been a veritable roller coaster ride of emotions. 
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Since I’ve been talking about updates, I should tell you what’s going on with Victor. There’s good news, and there’s not-so-good news, but thankfully the bad news isn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. In any case, let me explain.
If I’d assumed the visit from the ophthalmologist, Dr. Nakayama, would go smoothly, I would’ve been wrong. Victor was confused and upset, and I think he’d already reached his limit of strangers handling him by the time the eye doctor arrived, so we weren’t exactly poised for success. 
The fact that the doctor was brusque and unfriendly didn’t help, either. His bedside manner was practically non-existent. Just the tone of his voice when he addressed us was enough to get Victor crying, and then he scolded Victor because he couldn’t examine him properly if his eyes were filled with tears. Needless to say, that did not encourage Victor to calm down. All it accomplished was to upset him further.
The doctor looked exasperated. “This is not productive,” he declared.
“You’re scaring him,” I said, my patience worn thin from my own pain and stress. ”What you’re doing isn’t productive either. If you want him to cooperate with you, this isn’t the way to go about it.”
The doctor’s glare would’ve left me dead if looks could kill, but he didn’t say anything in reply. I ignored him and focused my attention on Victor instead. 
I could tell he was frightened and that he didn’t know what to expect, and I appreciated how overwhelming this must be for him. He’s never had to stay in the hospital before, and he’s not used to doctors. Up to this point, other than his annual physical and the occasional visit to his GP for some minor ailment, his contact with the healthcare system has mainly been because of me and my numerous medical issues.  
 After a few minutes, his tears had mostly stopped, but he was still sniffling a little. “I… I’m sorry for crying.”
“Never apologize for that,” I said. “It’s all right. Try to breathe slowly. Remember how you always coach me through those breathing exercises?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s try it, okay? I’ll coach you this time. We’ll see how much you’ve taught me.”
I did my best to explain to him that the doctor just wanted to look at his eyes and wasn’t going to do anything invasive or painful to him. I assured him that I wasn’t going to leave; I’d be right beside him the whole time, and I’d keep my hand on him so he’d know I was still there. 
Dr. Nakayama waited, rather impatiently, for Victor to settle. Then, he made me stand at the end of the bed while he did his examination. I thought Victor might protest that, but he didn’t.
I placed my palm on Victor’s blanket covered foot, and I could feel tension even in his toes. He whimpered when Dr. Nakayama shone the bright light of the ophthalmoscope into his eyes, but he kept still and managed to endure it. 
I praised him for being brave, much to Dr. Nakayama’s apparent disapproval, if the disgruntled noise the doctor made was any indication. Personally, I didn’t care what he thought of us. Victor has been with me for every hospital stay, medical procedure and doctor’s appointment over the past two years, and he always encourages me and tells me how brave I am. It’s important to hear that, especially if you’re not feeling particularly brave at all. 
After performing his examination along with a few old-fashioned tests like getting Victor to identify colours and asking him how many fingers he was holding up, the doctor’s conclusion was that the physical structures of Victor’s eyes were undamaged. The reason he was having trouble seeing was undoubtedly due to brain trauma, the doctor said. 
“Will it be permanent?” I asked.
“It could be,” Dr. Nakayama said. “Sometimes, these things resolve in a few days or weeks. Sometimes they never do, but most people learn to adjust to vision loss.”
“He’s an athlete,” I said. “He—“
“Well, I’m sure there are some sort of adapted sports he could do eventually, but if it were me, I’d worry less about that than how to accomplish the tasks of daily living.”
He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered that he was delivering such devastating news. It was as if he was discussing something as inconsequential as the weather forecast or his coffee preferences. His casual attitude about it infuriated me, and it was all I could do to calm myself enough to ask, “is there anything you can do for him?”
“There’s nothing we can do except wait and see,” he said. “If the vision loss is permanent, corrective lenses may help, but that’s something we can’t assess now. You’ll have to exercise some patience.”
I didn’t point out the irony of this suggestion coming from such a peevish man. Imagine him telling me to exercise some patience when he barely seemed able to demonstrate that he understood the meaning of the word himself. Nevertheless, I had to accept that he was correct and that we would just have to wait. I only wished he’d come up with a gentler way to tell us.
Dr. Nakayama left without saying goodbye or good luck to us. I stared daggers at his back until he’d moved far enough beyond the door that I couldn’t see him any more. I can’t stand doctors like him. People with such a clear lack of empathy shouldn’t be allowed into the medical profession, in my opinion. 
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I was still quietly fuming over Dr. Nakayama’s horrible demeanour when Dr. Sato showed up several minutes later. She was smiling. I hoped that was a positive sign, or at least a sign that she wasn’t about to tell us something else potentially life-altering. The thought of Victor not being able to see properly was a daunting enough prospect. I was terrified by the idea that he might be permanently disabled in some other way in addition to that. 
Dr. Sato greeted Victor with, “How are you doing, Mr. Okamoto-Nelson?” and then gave us a lopsided smile as her gaze took me in. “I guess that’s both of you, isn’t it? Mr. Okamoto-Nelson.”
“Yuri and Victor,” I said.
“Yeah,” Victor added. “Easier that way.”
“Well then, how are you, Victor?” she asked. “A little better now that you’re away from all that light and noise in the emergency department? That was causing you a lot of stress, wasn’t it?”
“It was you,” Victor said. “I remember you.”
Dr. Sato laughed. “Oh? I’m pleased you remember me, and I’ll have you know, you were causing quite a bit of stress for us as well, sir. You gave everyone a scare when we thought you weren’t able to hear or speak.”
“I remember… you told somebody to take off my rings.”
“I did, and then you talked to me, didn’t you? Gave me a proper telling-off in two languages. Luckily for you, I’m bilingual too, so I was able to catch all of it.” She grinned at him.”Does your husband know you use language like that?”
I was gratified to see the corners of his mouth form into a tiny smile. “I don’t remember what I said,” he told her, and I couldn’t determine if it was an honest declaration or if he was trying to joke with her. I hoped it was the latter. That would be a typical Victor response. 
“It wasn’t actually that bad.” She glanced up at me. “How’s his comprehension? Has he been able to respond appropriately and carry on a normal conversation with you?”
“I think he’s still a little disoriented, but we’ve been talking and it’s been relatively normal,” I said.
“That’s excellent,” she said. “Normal responses are what we like to see. The confusion might persist for the next twenty-four hours or so, but there should be steady improvement after that.”
“That’s good.”
“There’s more,” she went on. “We’ve got all the results from his scans now, and there’s no sign of skull or vertebral fractures, and no bleeding on the brain. I’d classify his injury as a grade four concussion, which is very serious, but not life-threatening.” She touched Victor’s shoulder. “Victor, your scans didn’t show any injuries to your spinal cord either, so we can safely take that collar off you now. How does that sound?”
“Nice,” he said. “I need a different position.”
“I’ll get someone to fetch some pillows so we can support your arms, and then we’ll get you turned onto your side. How about that?” 
“Okay.”
“What did you find out about his arms?” I asked. “You said you were doing an x-ray?”
“Yes, the radiology technicians did x-rays of his arms and chest. There’s significant bruising of the ribs on the left side, and a hairline fracture of the eighth rib. That’s about three-quarters of the way down the ribcage. The arms…” She paused, as if she was thinking about how she was going to explain it. “There’s a partial fracture of the radius in the right arm. That’s the smaller bone in the forearm. On the left, there’s a complete fracture of the smaller bone.”
“What does that mean? Does he need surgery?”
“Fortunately, no. The orthopaedic surgeon looked at the x-rays, and he thinks both arms will heal just fine without surgical intervention. Incidentally, we see a lot of arm injuries with snowboarders. I may not know much about the sport itself, but I’ve certainly seen the impact it can have.”
“My arms are broken?” Victor seemed perplexed by this. “But… I was wearing wrist guards.”
“It’s lucky you were,” said the doctor. “This could’ve been more serious if you hadn’t been wearing them.”
“My arms hurt,” he said.
“I’ve no doubt of that. We’ll get you some better pain relief than we gave you downstairs, and we’ll see if we can get some of that swelling down overnight. Then, our friends in orthopaedics will get you out of those temporary casts and into some lighter, more durable ones in the morning. You’ll even get to choose the colour.”
Predictably, he said, “Red.”
“Good choice,” said Dr. Sato. “You’ll be seeing them for the next six to eight weeks, so I hope red’s your favourite colour.”
“It is,” I said. “He likes red and blue.”   
“You could have a different colour on each side,” she teased. She reached down and began to unfasten the brace that had been keeping his neck and head immobilized. “Here, let’s get rid of this now. Try to relax for me, all right?”
“Can I really have a different colour on each side?” Victor asked.
“If you like,” she said. “Take your small joys where you find them, is what I like to say.  Okay… off with the collar.  I’m going to touch your neck. You let me know if anything hurts you.”
“Okay.”
She examined all along the sides and back of his neck, and the determination  was that it was a little stiff and sore, but nothing was significantly painful. Dr. Sato’s conclusion was, “That’s very good. You’re not going to be doing anything other than resting for the next few days, so that should start to feel better soon.”
The moment she took her hands off him, he rolled his head slowly in my direction. “Yuri, can we go home now?”
“Not tonight,” I said. “I think Dr. Sato wants you to stay here
“Yes, we’ll keep you at least until Sunday,” said the doctor. “I want you resting quietly until tomorrow, and then we’ll have you up and moving a little so we can check your motor functions and your balance and coordination. If you can manage without too much difficulty, I’ll let you go home after lunch on Sunday.”
Victor’s features scrunched in an obvious expression of concentration. “That’s… how many days?”
“Two sleeps,” Dr. Sato said. “Tonight and tomorrow night.
“That’s a long time to be naked,” he said, sounding bemused.
Dr. Sato laughed out loud at that. “I’ll bet you’re a handful when you’re well. You shouldn’t be naked, unless you’ve taken off your socks and underpants since the last time I saw you. You haven’t, have you?” 
His response came out at the same volume as the rest of what he’d been saying, but I think he thought he was stage-whispering. “Yuri, can you check? I don’t remember.”
“You’ve got your work cut out for you with this one, Yuri,” Dr. Sato looked as if she still wanted to laugh. “Victor, don’t worry. We’ve got some pyjamas for you. A personal care assistant will be along soon to help you with that, and they’ve seen it all, so if your underthings have vanished under mysterious circumstances, they won’t be too fussed by it.”
Dr. Sato talked with us for a few more minutes, telling us what we could expect after a severe concussion both from Victor’s perspective as the injured person and from my perspective as his caregiver. She also talked about pain management for his arms, and asked about any medication allergies. I was embarrassed to admit that I didn’t know if Victor had any allergies to certain medications. He’s never mentioned it to me before, and I’ve never seen him take any medications other than an occasional ibuprofen tablet.
She said she could check with his GP. When I told her the name of Victor’s doctor is Hiroshi Sato, we were surprised to learn that our wonderful Dr. Lily Sato is his daughter. 
I really am grateful for her. Not only is she brilliant in her profession, but she also has an amazing bedside manner and she seems like a genuinely lovely person. She made us both as comfortable as possible in a difficult situation, and I can honestly say I feel confident that my Victor is in good hands with her. 
Oh, and she gets bonus points for helping to locate Victor’s rings. Before she left, I asked her about them, and she said they were most likely in a locked room downstairs where patients’ valuables are kept until they’re discharged. She told me that I could check at the reception desk and someone should be able to retrieve them for me. Now, they’re tucked away safely in the little box on my dresser where I keep my snowflake bracelet, awaiting the moment when I can put them on his fingers again. 
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In the wake of Dr. Sato’s departure, we had a visit from a personal care assistant. Then Yuna, the friendly nurse from earlier, came in to give Victor something to help ease the pain in his arms. I learned that Victor doesn’t like needles, and I got further confirmation that he’s capable of charming almost anyone, even in his current condition. Yuna certainly fell for him. She told him he was adorable, and I might’ve been jealous if she hadn’t said it in a way that implied she found him adorable like one might find a puppy adorable. Naturally, he soaked up the attention, and told her that he might eventually like getting shots if she gave them to him every time. 
If I didn’t know how devoted he is to me, I’d be worried. 
It didn’t take long for whatever Yuna had given Victor to start working. It must’ve been the really good stuff, because not only did he visibly relax, but he began to drift off. He said something about floating and about magic potion, and I smiled, recalling some of the funny things Victor claims I’ve said under the influence of strong painkillers.  
I pulled off my shoes and climbed up beside him on the bed. Mindful of his arms, I got as close to him as I could. It was a tight fit, but this wasn’t the first time both of us had cuddled together on the same hospital bed, so I knew it’d be fine. 
I rested my hand on his chest, comforted by the feeling of it rising and falling with each breath.
“I love you,” I whispered. “We’ll get through this together.” 
“Lo’ you,” was his soft, mumbled reply.
While Victor slept, I lay awake for what felt like a very long time, thinking about all the things I’d need to do once he came home. Without the full use of his hands, he wouldn’t be able to use chopsticks, and maybe not a fork or spoon either. He wouldn’t be able to brush his teeth, comb his hair, or shave, or do anything else that would require manual dexterity. Personal care aside, all the errands, cooking, housecleaning, laundry and caring for the dogs would be on me as well. It was a lot, and I was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to cope on my own. 
But then it occurred to me that when I’m really ill, Victor takes on all the household responsibilities by himself. Sometimes he even has to help me with personal things like bathing and changing clothes, and he’s been known to feed me on occasion as well.
If he can do everything for me without extra help, I should be able to do the same for him. I wasn’t deluding myself into believing it’d be straightforward or simple, but I’d be a terrible partner if I didn’t try my best to look after him when he needed me, even if it presented a challenge. 
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At some point, I fell asleep, too.  
The next thing I knew, I was waking up to someone gently shaking my shoulder. At first, I thought it might be a nurse or a care assistant, but then I heard my father’s voice say quietly, “Yuri.”
I was so startled, I nearly rolled off the bed. It was just pure luck that I had enough of my wits about me to right myself and land on my feet instead of my backside. Breathlessly, I demanded, “What are you doing here?” 
Papa looked somewhat startled too. “I came back to check on you and Victor,” he said.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know I didn’t have to,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I gazed at him, unsure as to how I should react. As I said, ‘okay’ is a relative term, and in that moment my instinct was to retort that neither Victor nor I was okay. But, I reflected, we could have been worse, so in the grand scheme of things, maybe we were okay.
At last, I said, “We’re doing as well as can be expected.”
“A nurse caught me on my way in and said I couldn’t stay. Visiting hours are over. She said that if you were still here, I should remind you.”
“I know,” I said. “I was asleep. I didn’t realize the time.”
He smiled slightly. “I saw that you were asleep,” he said. “You must be exhausted. Let me take you home.”
My immediate instinct was to say no, but instead I offered lamely, “But, what about my car?”
“I’ll bring you back here in the morning.”
“You’re going to drive up the mountain to get me in the morning?”
“Well… I was hoping you’d come home with me,” he said. “You can sleep in your old room.”
“I can’t do that. I need to take care of the dogs. They’ve been alone since this morning.  Besides, Victor’s going to be here for at least a couple of days, so I need to gather up some things for him, and I need to take my medication and—”
“Yuri.” Papa held up a hand to halt the tangle of words falling out of me. “You can do all those things. I’ll take you to your house first, and I’ll help you do whatever you need to do.”
I shook my head. “I want to sleep in my own bed.”
In reality, I wanted to sleep in Victor’s bed. I wanted to put on one of his shirts and breathe in the sweet scent of coconut sunscreen that permeates almost every piece of clothing he’s worn. I wanted to wrap myself in his favourite white blanket and cuddle his ridiculous monster plushie that he still sleeps with sometimes.
“All right,” Papa said. “Then, let me stay the night with you. I don’t like the idea of you being up there in the middle of nowhere all alone.”
“It’s not the middle of nowhere. There are other houses on Kiyomatsu Point Road, you know. It’s not as if—”
“Yuri.” 
For some reason, the way he said my name made me think of when I was a little boy and I’d be trying to argue with him about bedtime, insisting that I wasn’t tired even though I was probably ready to fall over. The funny thing was, I usually wanted to go to bed, but I also wanted to have the last word.
I can remember him carrying me up to my room and tucking me in. Sometimes he’d read to me, or sometimes he’d sing. He’d even cuddle me if I wasn’t well and just needed some extra attention.
It’s strange to think about that now, that there was actually a time in our lives when we were close enough to be comfortable with that much physical contact. He didn’t always see me the way he sees me now, but I suppose it’s easier to not have unreasonable expectations of a child. 
I sighed. “Okay. I guess you can have my room for the night.”
I don't know what possessed me to give in. Perhaps I was simply too tired to argue with him any more, or perhaps, deep down, I didn’t want to be alone either. I didn’t understand why he was being so solicitous and nice to me all of a sudden, but just then I didn’t have the mental strength to question it.
“I thought you wanted to sleep in your own bed,” Papa said. 
“I…” Almost involuntarily, I glanced over my shoulder at Victor.
Papa was smiling. “I see. You’re going to sleep in his bed.”
“Yes,” I confessed, wondering how he knew that, or how he even knew we each had our own room. “We’d probably be sharing his bed tonight if he wasn’t here.”
“It’s not the same without them, is it?” Papa said. “You’ll have him home with you in a few days, though. As for me…” He sighed, apparently opting to abandon whatever he’d been about to say. “Your love is coming home to you. That’s something to be thankful for.”
“I am thankful,” I said. “There aren’t enough words to explain how much.”
“Hold onto that feeling,” my father said. “Some people are rare treasures, Yuri. If you’re lucky enough to have someone like that, don’t ever take them for granted.” 
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benji-the-crabb · 3 months
Text
◌○◌○
Scrapped SSKK Fic
written 2023.05.18
This is unfinished and not proofread. Also quite old. I haven’t been very pleased with what I’ve been writing lately but I don’t want to leave my social medias blank so here you go!
⚠︎ suggestive warning ⚠︎
Since letting Atsushi stay with him, Akutagawa had been noticing some strange behaviors from his boyfriend in his sleep. He was never a still sleeper but, calling his name and harshly grabbing the pillows as they slept wasn’t normal. Akutagawa hardly got any sleep because of it, not that he slept much usually but it was inconvenient to say the least. The weirdest new behavior was what Atsushi was doing right then, while his lover was sitting on the bed, dressed for work and simply observing. Atsushi had his arms between his thighs and seemed to be pressing and rubbing himself on them. Akutagawa gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Weretiger.”
The white haired man slowly awoke and looked around, almost seeming disappointed until his eyes adjusted on his boyfriend. A harsh blush bled into his face.
“Akutagawa…”
“Must you always call me my last name?”
Atsushi grumbled and sat up sleepily, stretching as he listened to his black haired counterpart speak.
“But more importantly, you seem to be stressed recently.”
“W-what do you mean.”
“You’ve been doing strange things in your sleep, I can only assume you’re acting out your dreams.”
“Acting… them out?”
Atsushi’s voice peaked and he went completely red, making Akutagawa lean closer and gently feel his face.
“Maybe you should go to a doctor?”
“N-no! No, I’m fine really…”
Atsushi quickly pushed Akutagawa off the bed and walked him to the front door.
“You’ll be late for work, I love you, bye!”
He closed the door quickly, heavily breathing and flushed from what just happened. Has he seriously been acting out the dreams he was having? All he’d been dreaming about since moving in was having sex with Akutagawa. Nothing else just touching Akutagawa, always. Touching him, being touched by him, having his fingers inside of him, teasing him relentlessly. He had to slap his hands on his face to keep him from imagining it all over again.
Atsushi walked back to the bedroom, fixing up the bed and pulling out his clothes for the day. When he changed his underwear they were drenched because of his fantasy Akutagawa, when he pulled up his pants he thought of Akutagawa tossing them onto the floor, he buttoned his shirt while thinking of Akutagawa feeling him up through it. Just Akutagawa, Akutagawa, Akutagawa the entire morning, infesting his brain. He tried his best to ignore it all, ignore the heartbeat he could hear pounding in his head every time the same thought that had been tormenting him for a month came back. He sat down where his boyfriend had been sitting on the bed earlier and leaned against his pillow. He could smell him so vividly, he could tell exactly the time it had been since he left, what he used in the shower and to an extent what he had been feeling. There wasn’t a hint of sexual desire, unlike his own scent. Did he seriously have no interest in having sex with Atsushi? Just the scent of his boyfriend had Atsushi turned on so it was extremely disappointing if that was the case.
Just when he gave into his fantasies and reached for his belt buckle he heard the front door open and immediately sprang up from his spot, scrambling to occupy himself on his phone. Akutagawa walked back into his room - now belonging to him and Atsushi - like it was purly to restrict Atsushi from touching himself.
“Aku! Why are you back so soon?”
He tried sounding nice but it came out very choppy and a little annoyed.
“You pushed me out of the door without my coat.”
“Ohh… did I?”
He just nodded and grabbed from the chair it was sprawled out on and observed Atsushi once again as he put it on.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Swear.”
“Hm… Alright.”
He headed back out and once again left Atsushi alone with his thoughts.
The weretiger breathed in so deep it started to burn and slowly exhaled.
I’ll just pretend that none of that happened… He doesn’t even hug me, I don’t know why I’d expect him to do anything else. I wish he would though…
He let that sink in until he was too embarrassed to handle it and threw himself out of bed and stomped to the door, putting his shoes on and muttering about how he’d definitely bring it up with Akutagawa the next time they were home together.
The next time they’re home together:
Akutagawa came home late as usual, pulling off his coat and tossing it over the back of the couch before he sat down.
“Welcome home.”
Atsushi’s words were nice but came out anxiously, like he was holding something back. Akutagawa leaned in his direction curiously as Atsushi put his feet up on the couch and looked at his lover.
“Tell me honestly, are you attracted to me?”
“Yes… I am, would I be dating you if I wasn’t?”
Atsushi sighed in relief before continuing.
“So, having… sex…”
Akutagawa tilted his head.
“I want to sleep with you okay! But you hardly ever touch me and I want to know why!”
“That’s… If you’ve wanted this so bad then why didn’t you initiate something?”
“Well, I dunno… I thought you weren’t interested.”
“The reason I haven’t done much is that my body isn’t very capable of keeping up with physical excursion, so with my job mixed in, that kind of intamacy can be dangerous.”
Atsushi’s eyes widened and he blushed harshly, extremely embarrassed.
“I- I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was something like that, if I did I wouldn’t have made a big deal about it…”
Akutagawa pulled himself on the couch and started unbuttoning his shirt, quickly slipping it off and causing Atsushi to blush even more and hide his face in his hands as if he was seeing something he shouldn’t be.
“A-akutagawa… what are you…?”
Tossing his shirt on the coffee table Akutagawa approached closer, blushing the smallest bit, too small for anyone unfamiliar with him to notice.
“Well, I didn’t do much today, a little movement won’t cause much harm.”
“Ah…?”
Atsushi couldn’t believe his eyes, he had only prepared for the absolute worst and had no clue what to do if this outcome ended up happening, he just slid down flat on his back and let the other man continue as he pleased.
Akutagawa slid his hands up Atsushi’s shirt and lightly kissed him once.
“And your concent?”
He made it seem more like an obligation than he should’ve but Atsushi was far from complaining.
“Akutagawa, let’s… have sex.”
Akutagawa nodded and kissed his lover deeply, making sure to feel around his mouth to summon moans as he fondled the skin under Atsushi’s shirt.
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artzee-bee · 3 years
Text
Not going anywhere | Lucifer Morningstar x reader
Fandom: Lucifer
Request:” Hi i have request for you ,Lucifer and the reader have a big fight they are married, and this fight it's lucifer fault The reader leaves home and Lucifer decides to give her space After a few days, he goes to the reader and realizes that she has been missing for a few days,When the person behind all this claims that the reader is dead and gives them a her body . Everyone thinks that the reader is dead and Lucifer He gets depressed and thinks it's all his fault , and after a few days, the thieves release the singer and the reader goes to Lucifer.Lucifer first thinks it is an imagination and then apologizes to the reader Thank you so much”
Genre: Angst with happy ending
Warnings: kidnapping, death
~~~
Your intention had never been to start a fight. All you wanted an explanation (preferably one that also made sense) and an apology, but apparently that was too much to ask, because as soon as you voiced your opinion, Lucifer went up in flames
“Don’t start this again!”
“I dislike it just as much as you do but what I hate more is being cancelled on, AGAIN, through a text message no less!”
“It was an emergency!”
“It’s always an emergency Lucifer! It’s starting to sound a lot like work means more to you than I do!” “The detective needs me, damn it!” your husband yelled
“And she has you! Every day of every week! All I ask for is one date night and for the past month you’ve done nothing but avoid committing to one or backing out at the last second! I’m tired of being your second choice Lucifer! I’m your wife and you are my husband, I love you to the ends of the world, I just wish you'd say no to Decker from time to time...”
“I’m saving people’s lives Y/N. So if you’re not on your deathbed, other people are and they need me now!” as he said this, Lucifer walked right past you and into your bedroom, seemingly ignorant to the painful words he’d just said. You looked around the living room, vision blurry with tears, your chest heavy with anger and disgust. You rushed towards the elevator.
“When you find time in your busy schedule and feel like being my spouse again, let me know!” the elevator door closed before Lucifer could say anything
~~~
When Lucifer woke up the next morning to a cold and empty bed, he didn’t think much of it.Truthfully, he was still kind of pissed at the attitude you had given him a day before, so he got dressed as usual and went to the precinct, assuming you’ll be home by nightfall.
Except when he got home that night, he stopped by Lux first, which ended up like it always does: with him sucked into an endless cycle of booze and dancing, that lasted until well into the night. When he did enter the penthouse eventually, he found it empty. Exactly the way he had left it in the morning. Even the tie he had left on the floor, after deciding last minute that it didn’t go with his suit, was untouched. Now this was curious, but still, Lucifer felt like you must be playing hard to get. He sent you one text message, before going to bed
“Call me when you can!”
The day after that, he figured his part was done! By reaching out first, he had already made a big compromise, so now it was your turn! To reach out, come home! But that didn’t happen that day, or the day after that.
Three days after the text message,Lucifer was getting worried. He was looking at his phone every other minute. Always making sure he hadn’t accidently put it on silent or missed any texts. He sent more messages, telling you he was sorry and that he wanted you to come home. That he would listen and spend more time with you, promising luxurious dates and weekend trips, if only you forgave him. You didn’t even open the messages.
“Lucifer are you listening?” Decker was insanely annoyed at her partner’s lack of concentration
“Sorry detective. I’ve...I’ve got a lot on my mind”
“Well, better get it out of the way now, so that we can move on to our case!” she said, cleaning out her desk quickly, before resting back into her chair “Talk to me!”
“It’s Y/N. I’m worried about her!”
“Why?” “We...had a fight a couple days ago and she left. She hasn’t come back since”
“Have you heard from her at all?”
“No…” Lucifer said, embarrassed at his own lack of care for you. He should have called you earlier, reached out more! He should have tried harder!
“How long had she been missing for?”
“4...maybe 5 days…”
“Lucifer, are you sane? And you’re only telling me now?!” Chloe jumped from her seat, turning on her computer
“I thought she needed space! I thought she was avoiding me intentionally cause she was angry! I didn’t know…” Lucifer choked back a sob, not wanting to break down in tears in the middle of the precinct
“Lucifer!” Chloe caught hold of his hand “I’m gonna find her! I promise you!” A few days later, she did. Well, more like Y/n came to her, in the shape of a pretty little gift box left on Decker's doorstep.
“A lil too late on your case detective” read the note attached to it. 
Inside were Y/N’s clothes, all of them stained with dark, dried blood. Y/N was declared dead that day and the case was closed. At her funeral, only her closests friends were present. Lucifer wanted it to be as intimate as possible.
That day was also the first time anyone had seen Lucifer, since the news. His eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles under his eyes almost matched the black suit he was wearing. Throughout the ceremony he kept twisting his wedding band, a habit he’d picked up on since you went missing. He chose not to do a speech, but once the crowd disappeared, and he was left face to face with your grave, he pulled out a little piece of paper from his pocket and sat down on the grass.
“In hell, everyone feared me. There, I was nothing but another server of the universe, ruling over an empire I never really wanted, because I never had a choice. So eventually I left, thinking anywhere will be better than what I had, and I came to earth.
I ran into you about 2 weeks later, before I really even knew how to behave myself. Before I knew anything about who I really was besides ‘the devil’. I longed to know, grow and discovers different sides of me, where I could be something new, and you gave it to me. You made me who I never thought I could possibly be. You made me a lover. I never thought of myself as capable to love anyone, in any degree, but your light shone everywhere you went and your kindness touched me and everyone around you. It became impossible to not get infatuated with your person. I allowed you to see and feel around every dark corner of my soul and being and every time I thought it was the end. Everytime I would take in your touch as if it was the last, I would prepare myself for abandonment, but it never came. Through everything you stood by my side and when I felt my darkest, you gave me a fistful of your light and that was enough to keep me going. You married a broken man and called him perfect, despite everyone telling you how much of a foul you were. Even then, you shooed them away. Even then you chose me. I wasn’t worthy of your love or your trust and our last night together proved it.
You’re not here anymore to hear my apologies and I’ll never forgive myself for it. You’ve gone now somewhere I can not follow, but I know you are well taken care of there. I hope, someway, somehow, you’ll hear these words: I am sorry. I loved you with my entire soul. Not listening to you was the biggest mistake of my life and I’ll never forgive myself. I choose however, to remember you as you were, because I know that’s what you’d want. I’ll remember you and your laugh.I’ll remember our date nights and shopping sprees. Nights in Lux or on the penthouse balcony. I’ll remember all the meals you prepared for me and the flirtatious remarks you used to make, because you thought they were so silly. I’ll remember the little frown on your face whenever you worked on an important project for work and I’ll remember every evening walk around the block you’d make me accompany you on. I know I always complained about them, but they were always fun. Everything I ever did with you was always fun.
I loved you. I still do. You are my everything Y/N. Thank you for devoting yourself to me in all the ways that you did. I’ll forever live on in my heart.“
~~~
It had been months since your disappearance. After all this time, you finally managed to escape your kidnappers and report them to the New York police station, since that’s where you had been held hostage for so long. As soon as the paperwork was done and you were sure that the people who ruined you were getting the punishment they deserved, you jumped on a train and headed straight back home. Straight to Lucifer.
Lux looked exactly the same as you had left it. You were washed over by a wave of comfort that almost brought you to tears. Home. You never thought you’d get to step in here again. Overwhelmed, you took a seat on one of the couches, allowing your head to rest back on it, as you took in every detail of your surroundings: the feel of the leather on your fingertips, the cool breeze of the air conditioning, the warm lights. Everything was still here.
“Y/N?” you jumped at the sound
“Hi love…” your voice broke as you said those words. Words you never thought you would be able to mutter again. The sight of your husband, messy as he was, made you weak in the knees. He was standing at the top of the staircase, dressed in nothing but his robe, tied carelessly around his waist. He had probably just woken up. You wanted to say something again, but before you could, he laughed
“Nope” he said simply, before making his way down the stairs and to the bar “I’m not doing this. Not today, not ever!” Lucifer filled his glass to the top with bourbon, before turning around and trying to leave back to where he came from
“Lucifer, it's me!”
“Sure you are, except you’re not real! Nice of dad, taking my ability to stay endlessly sober, getting me drunk, forcing visions of my dead wife onto me to teach me another lesson about managing my emotions. Real clever, except this is too much! So I’m going to enter that elevator and I expect to never have to see you again, hum? Right, well, au revoir now!” he continued on his way, but before he could get far, you were clutching on the silk tie of his robe. Lucifer felt the tug around his waist and turned around slowly to look at you, this time a little more unsure. As if he was trying to figure you out
“Lucifer, I’m Y/N. I escaped”
“Escaped? But that’s impossible, she died! I saw it-”
“What you saw was a bloody shirt!” he looked up to meet your gaze, tears already forming “They lied to you Lucifer”
Finally, it seemed like he had connected all of the pieces of the puzzle. The glass of alcohol fell to the ground and your husband wrapped you in a big hug for the first time in months. He nuzzled his head in your hair and took in your scent, your figure, your warmth. Hell, you were even more perfect that he remembered! Silent tears fell down both of your cheeks as you collapsed to the ground, still holding onto each other for dear life
“I’m so sorry” Lucifer sobbed in your hair “I’m so so sorry”
“It wasn’t your fault Luci”
“If I hadn’t been a jerk you wouldn’t have left! If I would have simply listened to you, they wouldn’t have gotten to you! You would’ve stayed here, where you belong! You would have stayed with me but instead I was too busy with my stupid job and the stupid cases and I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” he continued crying on your shoulder as you rubbed small circles on his back
“I’m here now my love” you whispered, kissing his cheek “And I’m not going anywhere”
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potter-imagines · 4 years
Text
Left Waiting at The Three Broomsticks (Fred Weasley x Read)
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Request: Hi! I was wondering if I could have a Fred Weasley imagine where he pisses off his gf somehow and so she gives him the silent treatment and only talks to literally everyone (including George) but him so he gets all jealous and pouty lol. Eventually he gets her to start talking to him again and then it’s all fluff etc. Hopefully this wasn’t a confusing request! Thank you!! :)
Warning: Tiny bit of sexual content towards the end, little bit of swearing, kinda angst at the beginning ?? and a lil towards the end ?? I think that's all, a lot of fluff scattered about
Word Count: 9.5k (I am so sorry I got carried away)
Two hours. Y/n had spent two hours waiting for him. Two stupid hours on a Saturday night that she could have spent elsewhere making something productive of her day but no. The last two hours Y/n had been seated in a small booth in the corner of The Three Broomsticks waiting patiently for her boyfriend, Fred Weasley.
The thing that infuriated her the most was that it was his idea in the first place! Originally, the couple had planned a stay-in date in her dorm room for the night before, Friday, but other plans came up. Fred got tangled up in a prank with George that had landed him in detention with Snape for the night. Yes, it annoyed her but what could she do? It wasn’t like Snape would excuse Fred because she tells him they have a date. If anything, Snape would hold him back longer.
When Fred and George were finally dismissed, it was nearly eleven at night and Fred was sprinting down through the dungeons to the common room. Their arrangement was for eight and he was praying to anyone listening above that she was still awake, but not furious at him.
Skipping up the transporting stairs, Fred basically shouted the secret password at the Fat Lady making her narrow her eyes at him. She swung open, not without muttering about how rude he was, and Fred jumped inside. Ten or so students were scattered around the common room, chatting amongst themselves. Hermione, Ron and Harry sat around the couch near the grand fireplace. They sent Fred a wave, which he frantically returned. The golden trio watched in curiosity as Fred darted up the stairs of the girl’s dormitory.
Hermione looked back to the group and asked,
“Wonder what that’s about- he seemed in a hurry.”
“Heard him and George got detention. They put stink-bombs in the Slytherin common room! Heard it stained some of the furniture maroon!” Ron chuckled at his brother’s antics then resumed his debate with Harry over their thoughts on the Quidditch World Cup happening every four years. Harry tried to explain the concept of the Olympics to Ron, but Ron was too focused on how amazing it would be for the World Cup to happen each year. Hermione went back to her studies, blocking out the mindless bickering of the boys.
Above the common room, Fred Weasley was scurrying to his girlfriend’s dorm room. He hoped Angelina and Alicia were out so he could be alone with her. Their time spent together had been oddly less than usual the last few weeks. Fred had no change of heart- actually, he found himself falling more in love with her every day, but their final year at Hogwarts was creeping up from the woods and he was working on a dream career behind the scenes with George that was eating up his time with her. He had shared this idea with her before- but it was just an idea then. Fred and George planned on putting their dreams to action once they finished up the next year. He wanted her to come- George did as well, but he didn’t want to mention it until it was a reality.
Reaching his destination Fred took a second to compose himself. A thin line of sweat was forming near his forehead. This was the first chance he had to take a breather since detention ended. Fixing his dark robes Fred knocked against the door, quiet enough not to startle her but loud enough to hear.
“Y/n… Y/n… love, are you awake? It’s Fred-“
Abruptly, the heavy wooden door cracked open and a weary looking girl poked her head out into the quietness.
“Darling, did I wake you up? I’m so sorry.” Fred stepped forward and wrapped the girl in a tight embrace. Y/n’s head fell against his chest out of instincts. His arms fastened around her waist as he invited himself in the room, slowly walking her back.
“Here, go back to bed, love. You look exhausted.” Fred led the sluggish girl to her familiar bed. Throwing back the covers, he readjusted her pillows so there would be room for him to fit as well. Fred then walked back to Y/n and took her hand softly. Kissing the back of her hand, Fred helped Y/n get into bed then slipped in beside her. His arms snaked around her body without thought. The naturalness of holding her in his arms made Fred feel confident in his dreams of starting a future with her. All the tension in his body collapsed when she leaned into his frame. Fred held her close and kissed the side of her cheek lovingly.
“I’m sorry about detention tonight but I promise I’ll take you out Saturday, alright? We can have a date at Hogsmeade and spend the night together, does that sound nice?”
The sleepy witch gave a tired mumble and nodded her head. She was cuddled under a stack of blankets, wearing Fred’s sweatshirt which made him smile. He’d usually crack a joke at this and tease her but, she was already asleep when he looked back to her. Fred couldn’t help but stare at her for a while. There was never a moment that went by where Fred didn’t think of Y/n as anything other than beautiful but in these moments, she looked ethereal.
Moonlight poured in from the open window and splashed across her s/c cheeks. Her hair was sprawled against the white pillowcase. Fred smiled at the sound of her light snores. Fred wouldn’t leave until he was sure she was deep asleep. It was their thing. She hated going to bed without him there.
“Okay, I love you, Y/n. Get some sleep, angel.” Fred whispered.
He pecked her forehead, then kissed her lips gently. Removing the covers, Fred tucked them back into Y/n so she could keep warm. He closed the open window then tip toed out of the room. Instead of rejoining his friends, Fred decided to head to his room. He felt too guilty for missing out on their plans to go have his own fun. Anyways he did have a Potions paper coming up and if he was going to spend the day with you Saturday, he surely wouldn’t be doing any homework.
So, the plan was confirmed the next morning, Friday. Y/n ran into Fred on her way to breakfast and they discussed where they’d meet and a time. They ate breakfast together, walked to class, then headed in different directions when six rolled around. Fred had a Quidditch match and she had a group project, so they didn’t cross paths for the rest of the night. Even though he refused to admit it, Fred absolutely hated when Y/n missed one of his games. His favorite thing to do was search for her in the stands during each game and it made him sad not to see her smiling face standing out in the crowd. Y/n entered the common room around midnight and went straight for her bed. Gryffindor had lost so there wasn’t a single housemate sitting in the common room. She could only imagine how upset Fred must be, she’d be hearing about it tomorrow. Y/n giggled to herself at the recollection of Fred’s angry rants about his teammates to you in private. She basically crawled to her bed, dreaming about the handsome, goofy, witty twin that had captured her heart.
Which would bring us to Saturday night. Fred and Y/n had made specific plans; they were to meet at The Three Broomsticks at seven then hangout for a while and spend the rest of their night sneaking around the castle with the help of The Marauder’s Map. Fred had practice at six so he was planning on meeting up with the girl at the pub. Y/n expected him to be running late- it wouldn’t be Fred if he didn’t show up a good twenty minutes late.
Only Fred never showed up at seven thirty, not at eight, and by the time nine neared, he was still nowhere in sight. The Three Broomsticks would stay open for a few more hours but the thought of sitting there alone for any longer, jumping at the sound of the door every time it opened, it made Y/n feel less than sane.
Throwing a handful of coins on the table, Y/n thanked her server then exited through the front doors. The walk back to the castle wasn’t long but being with Fred made it a lot more amusing. He’d pick her flowers, give her piggy back rides, play games, race, and hold her hand the whole walk back.
This time, Y/n walked alone hugging the material of her raincoat to her chest. A light drizzle had been pouring on and off for most of the day. Earlier, it was perfectly bearable- hardly noticeable. Although the weather had only worsened as the night grew darker. Hard rain drops crashed against Y/n coat, cascading down her covered arms and bouncing to the wet ground. Her black boots were soaked. She could feel the water rising to her socks, one of her biggest hatreds. Wet socks.
The hood of her jacket only helped so much before the pelting raindrops started to seep to her hair. Typically, Y/n loved the rain. If Fred was here, they’d be dancing right now. But he wasn’t, she had no clue where he was and that was exactly what Y/n was headed to find out.
By the time Y/n made it back to the castle and up to the Gryffindor common room, it was past ten.
Much as Y/n had expected, the common room was lively with energy and conversations. Katie, Alicia, and Angelina were all sitting in a circle with Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Seamus, and Dean. A dark bottle of Dragon Barrel brandy and Daisyroot Draught were being passed amongst them. Y/n watched as Fred leaned into his brother’s side, obviously tipsy and slurring his words while he practically shouted to their friends who were only sitting feet away.
His frame twitched with every small hiccup he let out. The whole group was smiling, they were happy. Y/n wondered to herself if Fred even noticed that she wasn’t there. She wondered if he liked it more when she wasn’t there, they were having fun and although the group was also her friends, no one was interested enough to invite her. Biting on the tender skin of her bottom lip, Y/n bundled her fist to her sides. The anger refused to simmer, only continued to boil. Her dripping clothes weren’t helpful to her sour mood.
It wasn’t the fault of her friends, no, but they were bound to get caught in the crossfires. Fred was the one who left her waiting for hours on end. Her chest was tight- livid yet sad all at once. It was an aggravating feel, unfamiliar. Y/n hated the suffocation entering her drying throat. More than anything she longed to handle situations like these in an aloof fashion. The last thing wanted was to wear her emotions on her sleeve, but she couldn’t help it. Her head screamed ‘just go to bed, ignore him’ but her heart wanted to scream at him and let him know just how bad he had hurt her. Her breathing quickened, each inhale received a choppy exhale.
For the first time, Y/n decided not to join her friends or to even say a word to Fred about how he stood her up. She was sick of it- completely exhausted and drained from his lack of care and presences in their relationship the last few weeks. If he wanted her as bad as he claimed, he’d find a way to show it. And leaving her sitting alone in a noisy pub while he partied and drank with their friends, showed her the exact opposite of his words.
Diverting her leer from the inebriated group and studied the rest of the room, hearing voices near the sitting area. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were all staring at Y/n in mixed judgement. Harry, Ron and Neville looked concerned by the appearance of Y/n. Hermione on the other hand, she was absolutely flabbergasted, Y/n could see the pity written on her face. You had mentioned having a date night with Fred in Hogsmeade to the four the night before. Harry had invited Y/n to hangout with them and visit Hagrid, but she politely declined and informed them about the special night Fred had planned for them.
Harry and Hermione stood up at the same time ready to comfort the teary-eyed girl. They motioned her over but just as she started towards them, Angelina Johnson noticed her friend who had been absent for most of the night. Setting the bottle of brandy down, Angelina wobbled up to her feet and smiled giddily,
“Y/n! Come- come drink with us! I was wondering where you- why… why’re you all wet?”
As the words fell from her mouth, a crowd of eyes planted on Y/n. Her fists clenched, bone white knuckles visible, at her sides. Angelina scurried over to her friend and wrapped her in a tender hug. If the scenario had been different, she’d gladly join in the fun but there wasn’t an ounce in her body that desired a drink.
Y/n’s eyes found their way to the boy she had been longing for all night. Her lips quivered, the anger and sadness reaching it’s overpour. He looked so handsome, so happy, but it meant nothing to her.
Pulling back, Angelina squinted in confusion at Y/n. The lack of embrace given back had thrown her off. The group had been awaiting her arrival, no one was quite sure where she’d gone off to. Angelina scanned Y/n’s reddening face, noticing the emotions bubbling under the surface.
Moving away, the dark-skinned girl turned to her friends. No one else seemed to notice the offset of Y/n’s attitude.
“Angel, where have you been? I missed you!” Fred’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. Quickly standing up, he held his hand out to his girlfriend. Y/n shot a dangerous look to his outreach, then up to his face. Usually she’d find his toothy grin and childlike state loveable but for obvious reasons, it made her irate.
Stepping back, Y/n sternly scowled at Fred,
“Missed me? You’re the one who left me waiting all goddamn night, Fred Weasley.”
A part of Y/n felt guilty for forcing her friends to witness their unpleasant exchange. George was now to his feet standing behind Fred, just as lost as the group he had been sitting with. Despite the alcohol running in his veins, George could sense an argument budding by the second.
“Not like any of you really seemed to care where I was.” Y/n kicked herself for this cold statement.
Her friends weren’t at fault- not in the slightest. But everyone was at risk of becoming a victim to her fiery wrath. In actuality, it did hurt her a little that no one had gone searching for her. It had been hours! Tears welled in her eyes as she took in the reactions of the group. George took his arm off Alicia and nudged his twin.
“What- I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, love. I think you should have a drink and loosen up-“
Y/n couldn’t take it. She just couldn’t take it anymore. Scrunching her face, she used every bit of strength to force her salty tears to hide at bay. Although her emotions screamed to be heard and saw right through her façade. Sweeping her hand across her cheek, Y/n caught the stray tears that rolled down her rosy cheeks. Huffing all her emotions out at once, Y/n shook Fred away from her and hurried towards her room.
Fred stood appearing dumbfounded. He could only gawk in perplexity. Blame it on the alcohol, but Fred’s mind was drawing a blank when surveying her words. For most of the night, he was the one thinking she was leaving him waiting. No one else had a clue as to where she’d gone off to, so he assumed she was in the library or wanted some space.
“You’re an idiot, Fred.” Hermione’s sharp voice cut through the thick air. The happiness and drunken laughter was extinct. The girl’s shared an exchange, all confused as to what just happened. The glass bottles didn’t help clear their judgement. Dean and Seamus took small sips from the Daisyroot Draught. The tension was unbearable, it felt wrong for their friends to be a part of it.
George set a hand on Fred’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly. Leaning forward, George whispered to his twin,
“I reckon it’s best if we turn it in for the night.” Fred gave a tug of protest. His intoxicated fought against him though he knew he did something wrong and needed to find Y/n. In spite of his desire to chase after the girl, George couldn’t let him do that. It was obvious Fred had forgotten something and Y/n was more than upset. Sending his brother up to drunkenly apologize to his hurting girlfriend for a reason he can’t even recall, that was a recipe for disaster and would only cause a bigger mess.
“Fred, you’re going to bed. You’re too drunk to talk to Y/n right now, okay? We’re going up the boy’s stairs, not the girls, okay? You two can talk in the morning, maybe you’ll remember where you fucked up tonight by then.”
Suddenly, Fred stop moving and let out a low groan,
“Oh shit… merlin’s sake, I fucked up, George. Oh my god- Hogsmeade… shit! I told her we’d meet at Hogsmeade and I forgot-“Fred whipped around in his discombobulated state. Everything clicked at once. Fred had been so concentrated on Quidditch that once practice had wrapped up, his exhausted body dragged him back to the common room out of muscle memory. It was his typical routine; Quidditch practice, head back to his dorm, shower, change, eat, work on some possible products with George, then hangout with his friends. How could he be so neglectful?
George sent his brother a comforting look then grabbed him by the shoulders, helping aid him up the winding staircase. It came as a shock to him that Fred had forgotten about their date. All he spoke about was Y/n, it was a rare occurrence for the couple to
“So that’s where she’s been all night?” George pushed open the door to their room, looking to his twin sternly. Fred had most of his weight piled on George, trying his hardest to remain upright. Lee had decided to stay back, allowing the brothers a chance to talk.
George helped his frantic twin in the dark room, then gave him a light push towards his bed. Fred plopped down, burying his face in the fluffy pillow. Pulling off his jumper, George threw the large maroon comforter over Fred’s tall frame while he wailed,
“I’m a terrible boyfriend. I planned the bloody date too! I left her-“
“How ‘bout you get some rest? You can find her in the morning and apologize to her and… hope for the best. It’ll give you more time to think of a way to make it up to her. You’re just a rambling mess right now.” The alcohol was not wearing George down. He had been on an adrenaline high since his second shot. This was the first moment of the night where he had stepped back. His tiresome hands rubbed against his face as he made his way to his bed and collapsed on it.
Fred was still moaning on, the sound of his drunken voice making it harder for George to fight back the urge to sleep,
“She’s gonna dump my sorry ass-“
“Go to bed, Fred. It’ll be okay.”
George let out a sigh of exhaustion. The twins had been best friends with Y/n since they were just children, new to Hogwarts and unfamiliar with the power of magic. It pained him to see his brother hurt, but it also hurt to see Y/n upset. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Turning his head, George let out a breathy chuckle at the sight of his twin passed out cold. The worry that dripped from his voice was now gone as he eased into his dreamland.
George wanted to scold him, knock him upside the head for skipping out on Y/n again. He cared a lot about her, she was basically a sister, a triplet to him. If Fred was gonna win her back, it wasn’t going to be easy, George knew this. Y/n was stubborn, and the twins had witnessed this first hand for years, it was a trait they loved, when not directed towards either of them.
As George’s head hit the pillow, all he could do was pray to Godrick that the morning would bring good news.
Sunday morning arrived much faster than Y/n had hoped. A bright, loud, light interrupted her sleep as the gears in her head started to turn. Her mind was groggy, the events of last night were foggy. Warm sunlight broke through the glass stained windows. Y/n wiped her eyes and slowly sat up. Her mouth was dry, screaming for a drink of water.
For a minute, she felt calm- happy almost. The room was half empty; Angelina’s bed was bare and Alicia laid in a star-fish position, a snore sounding from her mouth. The image made Y/n laugh.
Standing up, Y/n’s hands flew above her head as she stretched. She cracked her back, a morning ritual for the girl. Just as she reached for the knob of her dresser, a wave of recollection nearly knocked her off her feet.
Fred had stood her up, of course, how could she forget? The irritated skin under her eyes and nose suddenly made sense. Leaning against the wooden cabinet, Y/n huffed. It was times like these she wished she could crawl into bed and stay there for eternity. Nothing would get better though if she didn’t at least try to fix it.
As quick as the thought came, it had evaporated once more. Why did she have to be the one to put forth the effort to fix things? There was no use in fixing their relationship if Fred wasn’t willing to try too. More than try, Y/n thought. It took a piece of her when she came back to the castle just to see him drinking with their friends, not thinking a thought of her. She needed to see that he cared. His words held no value to her anymore, not until he could prove he meant what he said.
Y/n went through her morning routine like a snail, wanting to drag out her time. Eventually, she was fully dressed and ready for the day. She liked to take advantage of the days her school robes weren’t required. The cooling weather led her to a fuzzy black sweater, and light washed jeans. Sliding her delicate wand into her back pocket, Y/n exited the room and took the stairs down to the common room.
Approaching the bottom of the steps, Y/n could hear familiar voices exchanging hush words. She stepped into the room and was surprised to see the lack of students. The only ones present were sat one the long leather couch on the left half of the massive room. All of their gazes fell on Y/n.
Fred, George, Ron, Angelina, Harry and Hermione were all relaxing- well all of them except Fred. He on the other hand was frantic- disheveled. His knee bounced in anticipation. The clock was sneaking
“Oh, uh, hey Y/n!” Ron Weasley moved his hand side to side, waving to Y/n. The temptation to admire the handsome boy at his side leaped into her heart. Using every ounce of strength, Y/n trained her eyes on Ron, not allowing a single peek at Fred.
“Hey, Y/n/n!” The voice of Angelina brought a perk to Y/n’s head.
“Hi.” She greeted the younger Weasley and her close friend back, then headed for the portrait. Before she could make it half the distance, the tall figure of her boyfriend appeared.
“Angel, how did you sleep?” Fred was by her side in an instant. He was desperately trying to read her expression, testing the waters to see her mood. He had hardly slept, he spent most of the night thinking about this exact moment, when he’d have the chance to apologize and make it up to the girl he loved. “Can we please talk? I’m really sorry for last night, honestly, I am so so sorry, darling.”
Y/n stared at him, or rather, through him. It was like she didn���t see the tall wizard in front of her.
“I’m gonna go study, I’ll meet you with you guys later.”
“Y/n, love-“ His warm hand took hold of her of her own, an action she’d typically love. The familiar grasp sent a burst of comfort in her stomach, but she ignored it.
Wiggling out of his grip, the girl shot him a look of displeasure then rushed off. Hermione chased after her, no one else brave enough to step in. Besides, Hermione was one of her closest friends. Watching the younger girl follow after her roommate, Angelina walked after them. Fred stomped like a toddler having a tantrum as the portrait swung open then closed. He knew he had to do something- anything to get her to talk to him again, and that was his plan.
For a Sunday evening, the school library was relatively empty. A majority of the students occupying the tables were studying away for their O.W.L.S. The exams weren’t for another two months but hardly anyone dared to procrastinate until the last week before opening their books. The stress of the exams was enormous, but the students still had other classes to keep in mind.
Y/n Y/n/l and George Weasley were sitting across from on another at a study table. Three hefty textbooks were open as the two discussed their Potions paper. Y/n had been stuck on hers and George had yet to start so they decided to head to the library together and get it done.
Fred was usually right by their side, his hand wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders, but she neglected an invite for him. About an hour after their exchange in the common room, Y/n had apologized to each friend she had snapped on the night prior. They were understanding, clearly seeing where her frustrations had come for. They also felt bad as she was right, no one had even checked to see where she’d gone, and George especially felt terrible for not searching for his friend.
At least three hours had passed since the two Gryffindors started their study session. Y/n was sneaking up on her last two pages while George still had three left. They collaborated every few minutes, then returned to tranquil silence, scribbling away.
Y/n was in the middle of sharing her idea for the last section of her paper when George’s eyes brighten and he interrupted her,
“Fred, how nice of you to join us.”
Turning in her chair, Y/n found her boyfriend standing behind her with a nervous smile. She hated how perfect he looked, even in the poor lighting of the library. He still managed to make her breath hitch in the back of her throat.
“Hi, Y/n. You look beautiful as always.” Fred announced himself softly. George scoffed teasingly, muttering a ‘hello’ to himself to make up for his brother ignoring him. Freds words were genuine though didn’t make much of a difference. Y/n was still hurt and a compliment wasn’t going to mend that. She needed to feel it, to see him truly show that he cared- that she meant something to him. That she was deserving of his time. Sweet comments didn’t not add up to that feeling.
George closed his textbook, then glanced up at his twin,
“Should I leave?”
Before Fred could answer, Y/n slammed her hand on top of George’s Potions book. Wide eyed and frightened, the boy gaped in shock. Even Fred was taken aback by her unexpecting movement. Leering at her friend Y/n replied,
“No. I want you to stay, we were in the middle of a conversation.”
Fred’s heart dropped at her words. It was heartbreaking to have the girl of his dreams now shunning him- brushing him off with ease. It was driving him mad. All he wanted was for her to acknowledge him, give him a little hope that he can earn his way back in her heart. He loved her, every bit of him loved her.
All he wanted was to make it up to her for his mistakes the night before. He couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face when she saw him sitting with their friends. She was miles exceeded hurt- more devastated at his negligence than hurt alone.
Maybe it was the fear of meeting the reality that losing Y/n was a possibility, but Fred experienced a new sort of emotion when his girlfriend asked for his brother to stay. Yes, they’re friends, all three of them are. Fred had to remind himself of this like a record on repeat. He couldn’t fight the envy off though.
It made his heart twist as she stared at George. Never did he think he’d be jealous of his own twin, but Fred was livid. The seething stream of covetousness overtook his veins. Fred wanted to be the one you ran to for comfort, not his brother. His entire life he had shared everything with George, Y/n was far too meaningful to Fred for her to be shared.
Now it does take two for a turn of events like that to happen. Fred knew, clear as day, that George had no romantic feelings for Y/n and she had none for George. This was true, but for some reason, it didn’t help tame Fred’s envy.
He knew causing a jealous scene would do no good for anyone, so Fred realigned his train of thought and asked,
“Could I steal you from that conversation, please love? I really need to apologize to you.”
Fred allowed his hands to reveal themselves from their previous position hiding behind his back. When he moved them, a full bouquet of colorful flowers and small green plants of different shapes and sizes. The flowers were a display of fuchsia, pink, orange, red, and yellow. They were beautiful, so beautiful, Y/n thought to herself. She couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past her lips.
Fred had gotten her flowers their first-year dating but since the last month or so, she hadn’t received many of his heartwarming gifts. It wasn’t the monocle value of a present but the thought and attention to care that captured Y/n’s heart. Fred had always been the best at creating meaningful gifts on a tight budget. Whether it was flowers he stole from school grounds, or necklaces he made out of stones she found around the Great Lake. He’d make her perfume- proving rather excellent in the Potions department. He also asked Molly to teach him how to knit in order to make Y/n a sweater. This of course delighted Molly over the moon.
George bit on the skin of his knuckles to keep for laughing at his brother. He recognized the flowers, as did Y/n. Fred had picked them from the garden outside the castle- something that had earned him a detention before. George decided not to comment on his observation, Fred was sure to murder him in his sleep if he put his apology in any jeopardy.
Fred extended the bouquet to his flustered girlfriend. He felt a sense of accomplishment while watching her reaction. It was small to most, but for as stubborn as she was, it was big in his eyes. The girl reached forward, accepting the gift with a tiny smile rising to her lips, one she didn’t force down.
For the first time since the night before, Y/n fully saw Fred. She peered directly at him silently. George glanced between the two, stuck between a dual. Without speaking, Fred took some steps forward and pulled the chair next to Y/n out. He slipped into the seat, the couple still staring at each other. Y/n studied his demeanor, he didn’t push her anymore, but he wouldn’t leave her side. Not that she would tell him but, she was happy he joined in. She didn’t want him to leave, she had missed being around him. Tearing herself away, Y/n focused herself back on the other twin.
“As I was saying, George…”
Fred drowned out the words but accepted the fact that Y/n didn’t reject him from sitting down. She also didn’t set the flowers down for the rest of their study session. The remained clutched in her hands, resting in her lap the whole time.
Monday night came in the blink of an eye. Classes had resumed and the castle was bustling in stress. When the end of the year neared, the time spent sitting through lectures was an eternity, while the weekends flew by. Fred had always hated summer break, actually, that’s not entirely true. His dismissive of break budded around the same time his relationship with Y/n became official.
Their first two years, she would spend the holiday back home in London with her family. She loved her family but once she experienced her first holiday at the Burrow, she never wanted to miss another. Her family was a bit distant, not the warm and welcoming pure-bloods like the Weasley’s, but not as cold as the Malfoy’s. Y/n’s family had no issues with her spending breaks at the Burrow, as long as she had Molly and Arthur Weasley’s approval. Molly insisted each time that there was no need for her to even ask to stay. They accepted her with open arms, ecstatic to see Fred had found such a lovely girl.
The end of the school term was coming up and Fred needed to fix things with Y/n before that happened. She planned to spend the break at his family’s home and he feared she’d take her agreement back if things weren’t improved between them. Spending almost two days stuck in the anger of his love was two days too many. Fred was going to fix this and he planned the best idea he could think of, good thing he had their friends happily available to help.
Unbeknownst to Y/n, while she was resting up from her illness Harry, Ron, Lee and George were helping Fred create his masterplan. Hermione helped in her own way by remaining near Y/n’s dorm, sitting in as the lookout. It gave her an excuse to get her school work done so she didn’t protest.
Alicia and Angelina stayed in the room. Once Y/n started to feel better, thanks to Madam Pomfrey, the girl’s altered Hermione who passed the news along to Harry as the chain continued until it reached Fred. At the confirmation, his plan was set into action. Ron was sent to retrieve the girl after Alicia and Angelina convinced her to get some food from the dining hall.
She walked through the common room then down the moving staircase, when her redheaded friend popped up. Ron scared the girl, making her stumble back, her hand placed over her chest.
“Y/n! I’m so glad I ran into you! No one has seen you all day- Angelina said you were feeling ill this morning.” Ron rambled at a fast pace. Y/n, still surprised by his sudden arrival, took a deep inhale, nodding to the boy,
“Yeah, I saw Madam Pomfrey this morning when classes started. I just had a stomach bug and she said I’d have to wait it out but the medicine she gave me seems to be doing the trick.” Y/n gave Ron a kind smile. Ron was two years younger than her but they had always been great friends. Y/n would travel to the Burrow as a guest of the twins during the holiday breaks, so Ron and her had spent a lot of time hanging out together. It was sweet of him to ask how she was doing, but he didn’t seem that her health was the reason for their conversation.
“That’s good to hear. You wouldn’t happen to be heading anywhere, are you?”
“Just to get some food. I’m starving-“ Ron nodded eagerly, cutting his friend off in the process.
“That’s great! I mean, not great, just… well… uh, follow me please!” Scrambling like a mess, Ron clasped his hand over Y/n’s wrist and abruptly dragged her down the stone corridor. She couldn’t find the words to question him and allowed Ron to lead the way. Her curiosity was far too big to ignore his odd request.
Ron carried on for another five minutes then took a sharp turn, heading for the courtyard. Two figures ran off around the side of the castle in the darkness. Y/n swore she recognized the pair as George and Lee. What were they up to? Snapping her head to the younger boy, Y/n waited for him to fill her in on why he had dragged her halfway across the castle to the freezing courtyard.
“Okay! We’re here- I’m just gonna… head out. See ya, Y/n!” Ron rushed his farewell then ran off towards the direction George and Lee had escaped to. What in the world is going on? Left by herself without any explanation, Y/n threw her hand up in annoyance.
“What?”
Alone in the cold, Y/n wrapped the opening of her fuzzy cardigan against her body, attempting to keep warm. Although warmth entered her vein as a pair of arms snaked around her waist, snatching her backwards into a firm surface. She gasped, thrown off by her attacker and tried to turn in retaliation, but their grasp was far too firm. The familiarity of the hold made her body ease up. As much time as the spent together, she could recognize his touch anywhere. Fred.
His touch released a swarm of butterflies through the girl. She could feel the anger washing away as she leaned her body into his chest, having pined for his arms for two too many days than she was accustomed to.
The tall Gryffindor held her tightly. Moving forward, Fred pressed his lips against the shell of Y/n’s ear. The heat of his breath causing her to shudder as he whispered,
“I’m so happy you came, darling.”
Y/n smirked, looking up at him. The concurrent willfulness of her nature could only carry on for so long until her headstrong demeanor crumbled. A pang of chagrin still grumbled in her stomach but the sight in front of her certainly was a runner in her change of heart.
Soaking in her surroundings, Y/n realized they were just a few hundred feet outside Hargid’s hut. This explained the garden full of massive orange pumpkins. In the middle of the path was a small gazebo decorated in fairy lights and sunflowers. A small table set for two was tucked inside. Small teacup white candles line the path, creating a runway of sorts. Another candle, larger and purple, sat flickering in the breeze in the center of the neat table.
Y/n stood motionless absorbing the creation her boyfriend made- all for her. Speechlessness was not common for Y/n so Fred undoubtably began to second guess if his efforts were good enough. His fears were stomped in a matter of moments when Y/n harshly yanked at the material of his collar and placed a brisk, short kiss to his lips. Fred was startled, losing the opportunity to kiss her back but Y/n didn’t want him to. It gave her a sense of control- they still had issues they needed to work out, but she loved him nonetheless. Besides, avoiding and staying mad at Fred forever? Impossible. In two days, Y/n had to stop herself a million different times from approaching Fred and sharing a laugh with him, or kissing him, or holding his hand and giving him a hug. She didn’t want to fight off the urge anymore- and Fred couldn’t handle the distance spaced between them. Thus, being the motivation for his grand, heartfelt, date.
“I’ll assume that means you like it. I won’t take all the credit- it was my idea, but our friends are the main reason I was able to pull this off. I feel really bad and… I need to do something special for you- I don’t do that enough lately. I forget sometimes to remind you how important you are in my life and how much I love you.” Fred sheepishly smiled, nervously awaiting her reaction.
The small table was set, a new bundle of crimson red roses placed on her seat. To the side of her plate was a small box with a beautifully wrapped ribbon tied to the top. Fred had a special way of showing his love and adoration for his girlfriend, but even this was new to her. Never before had he gone so over the top to prove his feelings to her.
Y/n lifted her hand and intertwined it with Fred’s, smiling up at him,
“It’s gorgeous, Freddie.” The bashful smile made Fred’s heart melt on sight. He had prepared himself for the repetitive rejection she had been sending, so when she whispered those sweet words, his chest tightened, and his pace stopped.
Fred almost fainted in shock at the sound of her voice. He squeezed her light hand and drew it back, forcing her body into his own. Y/n couldn’t help the laugh that fell from her lips. She missed his playful ways. With the foreheads pressed against each other, Fred grinned,
“I’ve missed your voice, love.”
Although his words made her heart take flight, the reality of her hurt was still roaming. Y/n detached herself from his grasp and rested her hand on the black metal table. Her fingertips fumbled with the white cloth, it served as a distraction only for a short period of time. Fred sent her a sorrowful look. Her shift in moods was confusing to him, he only wanted to make things better.
Y/n sighed and ran her hand through her h/c locks. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply then asked,
“Why don’t you have time for me anymore, Fred?” The question of the night- or rather month. His date was beautiful, absolutely stunning. As riveting as it was, it couldn’t erase the hurt she had been experiencing.
Fred shook his head frantically, dismissing the accusation. He knew why she would think that way, he understood. It wasn’t true, though. Actions speak louder than words and Fred despised the fact that recently, his feelings for Y/n weren’t lining up with his actions. His words could only do so much. But he also knew soon, things would be different. Missing the Hogsmeade date was his fault, and he paid for it. Two days might seem minute to most, but when you spend essentially everyday attached to someone’s hip, two days of them purposely ignoring you and speaking to every soul expect you, it can feel like a lifetime. He realized a few things in this time.
Fred remembered how fun it was to act as if he was still trying to win her over. Gifts, no matter their cost, always brought a gleam to her face which never failed to make Fred grin. However, it was much more entertaining when she wasn’t upset with him and would throw the flirtatious comments right back at him. He was also reminded of how lucky he was to be with Y/n. While she ignored him, Fred found himself envious of every living being Y/n spoke to, as they were not him. When he started engulfing himself in his plans for the joke shop, his effort in his relationship had decreased and this was something he vowed to never let happen again.
“I’ll always have time for you, darling. And if I don’t, I’ll make some. I truly am sorry about this weekend- you don’t deserve that.”
“It just seems like you’re distracted, like you don’t care anymore.” Y/n batted her reddening eyes, finally throwing her worries to the air.
“No, no, Y/n, not at all. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, love. I’m a terrible excuse of a boyfriend, I never meant to create this mess. I love you so much.” Fred’s head bowed down. It tore him up to know the way his actions made her feel, the only girl he loved.
“I love you too, Freddie. I really do but I can’t feel alone in this relationship. I let our date Friday slide, even though I was annoyed, but Saturday night? I feel like it broke me. Just knowing you forgot about me-“ Y/n fought back the burning sensation in her eyes as the tears began to brim.
The anxiety blooming inside her was clear to Fred. Suppose that was the downside to dating your best friend, they can always tell when somethings wrong. Before a tear could hit the floor, he whisked her to the iron garden chair, then kneels before her, his hands holding her face as if it was a priceless, dainty piece of china.
“I didn’t forget about you, darling, that’s impossible to do. I’ve been… well I’ve been working on something with George for when we leave school next year. It’s real important to me and I wanted to share it with you but I was scared that it might not happen but… if I have your support and you with us, I know it’ll happen.”
“What’re you rambling on about, Fred?”
“Remember how I told you that George and I wanted to open a joke shop? Well, it’s happening… I think. We’re really close, we just gotta make it through next year then we’re free! We’ll have our own joke shop and get to sell our own products and start our future.”
A silence overtook the atmosphere. Y/n’s lips were stuck open in a small ‘o’ shape, eyes glued to the floor. Was he really going to leave her all alone next year? Would they have to break up? Surely, he wouldn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship.
She was snapped from her own mind when her skin registered the touch of Fred’s lips as they traced her knuckles, kissing each finger as he did. His eyes then peered up to meet her own. She could tell he was serious by the feeling of his stare. Then he continued, making Y/n perk up,
“But none of that can happen without you… Y/n I want you to come with me. Move in with George and I, start a future with me. We want you to be a part of the shop. I want you there. You’re the only girl I want, for the rest of my life.”
Her once open mouth clamped shut in a swift motion. Ever since she met the twins, Y/n wanted a future with Fred. Everyone saw it as a childhood crush, but she always knew it was more. She never stopped loving him- never could. Even when his pranks took a step too far over the line. They always found their way back to each other and would work through it. Fights such as the most recent were rare- but Fred’s admission filled in a lot of empty spaces that had left Y/n sleepless for days. Finally, the crushing weight was lifted from her chest as she choked out a shaky breath.
Leaping forward from the chair, Y/n threw her body into her boyfriend’s body and clamped him in a koloa like hold. Fred chuckled in amusement, falling onto the near ground at her jump.
“Why do you have to be so lovable? I hate it. I should be angry with you, but I just love you too much. Besides, I think you did enough suffering.” She giggled as she pinched his round cheeks in her hands. Fred poked his tongue out at her and grabbed at her sides. Y/n swatted his hands away, giving him a stern glare saying, ‘don’t push it’.
Slowly, she leaned down and brushed her lips against Fred’s, smirking down at him. It was a change in roles. In their more adult situations, Fred was typically the one on top with Y/n pinned below him, but that’s a story for another time.
A small, almost whimper, sound came from Fred. He hated being teased- that was his job. Dragging out the moment, Y/n tugged on the skin of his bottom lip with her teeth, earning a groan of approval from Fred. She grazed over his mouth one last time before dipping her head down to meet his and interlocking their lips, still straddling his waist. Fred’s hips pushed towards her core out of instinct. Not ready to give in quite yet, Y/n lifted her body and shifted forward, entrapping Fred even more so in the heated kiss.
They parted for seconds to sneak a bit of air, then continued their needed make out. It had been a while since they proved their love to each other in this way. For the last month, it had been small kisses here and there when the couple had a chance to see each other. Y/n needed his touch- she needed him. Fred longed to have under him, pleasuring her. He desperately wanted to sink his head between her legs and really show her just how much he loved her.
The coldness of his fingertips hit Y/n’s skin as his fingers dug into the sides of her waist. As much as she longed to keep the exchange going, the last thing either of them needed was a detention.
Y/n plucked herself away, a small pout lining Fred’s lips. His hands remained tied up in her own, lying them on his stomach. The weight of his question seeped in like molasses. Opportunities like this presented themselves once in a lifetime, there was no way Y/n was going to let it slip by.
Rolling off his lap, Y/n plopped down on the ground to the side of Fred. Their heads turned simultaneously towards each other, Fred winking to Y/n.
This is what she wanted. To see him care for her, show his love. His attention. It was the one thing she had been striving for but now that the cat, or rather joke shop, was out of the bag, Fred didn’t feel the need to hide anything from her anymore and keep his work to himself. He was over the moon with excitement to have her join George and himself. It was everything he could hope for.
Coyly averting her peer, Y/n asked,
“Do you really mean it, Fred? You really want me to come with you and George?”
Kindly, Fred swiped his thumb under her chin and raised her head up so their eyes were level.
“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else in the world then with me.” The serenity in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n propped herself up to her elbows and brought Fred in a bone crushing hug. Heavy chuckles croaked from Fred as she smothered him lovingly. He managed to sneak in a tiny peck to her check and she hugged him. Placing her head on his shoulder, Y/n poked the side of Fred’s cheek, commenting,
“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever, Fred, I love it!”
Throwing his arm around the elated girl, Fred just smirked.
“Duh, that’s kind the whole point of you moving in with me.” He replied in a matter-of-fact tone. The night was growing darker and the steady wind was escalating. In an hour, two if they were lucky, Filch would be surveying the grounds in search of students, mainly Fred and George, out past curfew. It was a sport to him, catching students breaking rules and getting to turn them in. It was part of his job, yes, but Y/n hated that he never took it easy on anything for the Gryffindors like he did the Slytherins. Fred looked at the scenery around them and remarked,
“Y’know, angel, as much as I’d love to spend the rest of the night laying with you in my arms, we can do that in my dorm room tonight… in an actual bed instead of dirt. I mean, we didn’t set up this whole thing for nothing! If I knew laying in the dirt would win you back, you should’ve told me!” His sarcastic words were received with a light slap.
“Smart ass.” Y/n rolled her eyes teasingly and started to sit up. Before she could get to her feet, a pair of hands planted themselves at her waist and lifted her. Fred had his moments, but he was always a gentleman to her. His teasing ways were comforting to Y/n, reminding her that they were good now, in comparison to the recent downfalls.
Fred helped Y/n to her seat, then jogged over to his own. He presented the girl with a cake he made for her. Hermione brought him to the kitchens and taught him how to make one. It took about three hours, he burnt the first, put too many eggs in the second, then forgot to add eggs to the third. Finally, on the fourth attempt, Fred created a passable cake. Hermione had no desire to spend any more time in the kitchen, so she quickly frosted it for him, not wanting him to ruin it this far in, then covered it and locked it in the fridge. Much to Y/n’s surprise, it was one of the best homemade cakes she’d ever had. Her teeth were practically chattering from the intense amount of sugar, but she had to keep in mind it was Fred who baked it.
After eating, Fred and Y/n took their sweet time strolling around the castle. Fred swung his hand back and forth, causing the same effect to Y/n’s. They laughed feverishly as Fred chased Y/n up the moving stairs as they raced to the common room. When they entered the room, they sprinted straight for Fred’s, still in a chase. Hermione, Ron, Harry, George, Angelina, and Lee all watched in amusement as the couple seemed to be reunited.
“Wonder if they’re back together. You guys think the date worked?”
Everyone shared glances at the obliviousness of Ron. There were times when social cues and context clues just didn’t exist to Ron. George scoffed at his little brother and shook his head. The rest of the group roared with laughter as Ron’s face scrunched in irritation.
“Not sure, Ron. Why don’t you go out to our room and ask them?” George smirked mischievously causing Ron to turn white as a ghost in realization. A faint ‘oh’, tumbled out of his lips and his eyes went wide.
Despite their assumption, up in the top room in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory, Fred Weasley laid snoring in his large mattress, still in his school robes. Squished against his chest by his arms, Y/n was sound asleep, similarly dressed. The two didn’t care what they looked like or who came in, as long as they were together, that’s all that mattered.
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