#she ran so much that she ruined all the grass in the yard

[countessofravenclaw]

Like the Red Rose blooms in the Oxford Garden: Chapter one

Sometimes when your heart breaks... it feels like there is no way to fix it. No matter what you try. All the memories get left behind as something unfinished... But maybe, there is to way to fix it, A second chance. Some way to finish the story you two started writing because it was never the end, but just a part of the story... even if you have to travel far to achieve it.

I forget about you long enough, to remember why I needed you

Breathe.

Just stand still and breathe… she could do this. 

Just breathe, in and out. 

The noise of everyone clapping and cheering rang in her ears. It felt like the noise was drowning her. 

Breathe. Inhalar y exhalar. No one would notice. She could do this.

Nina felt her hands going numb as she tried to control her ever more shallow breath. She could not move. The video Delfi and Jazmin had shown had left her in a trance. It had woken something inside of her that she had thought had been buried… she had convinced herself that she had buried it. 

She had to get out of there. Out of the crowd. She could not ruin Luna’s party like this.

She willed her feet to move. Nina glanced around the yard hoping that no one had noticed her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say to anyone…

She quickly found her way back inside the mansion and started climbing up the staircase before collapsing at the top, her head in her hands.

Everything was still spinning in her eyes, as she tried to balance out her breathing. She could not afford to have a panic attack right now. She couldn’t… 

In and out. Just breathe. Why had she been under an impression that she was able to keep her panic attacks under control? She took another shaky breath. 

The spinning started to slow down and she could not hear her racing heart so loudly anymore. The attack had started to subside and Nina was able to take a deep breath again. 

She ran her hands through her hair and tears started falling down her face. Why was this happening to her?  Why had the video gotten to her like that, she… she knew why. She just had been convincing herself that it was not true, it could have not been true anymore…

…what was so wrong with her that she was not able to get over it? Over him. She already should have, she thought she had. But just those unexpected glimpses —why had she even been caught up off guard? She knew that he had been there, she had also been there— had brough such a surge of emotions… just like when she had heard his voice again after so many months, a months ago. Everything had just come crashing back. The joy, the pain, the way she missed him… she still did, because she love—

NO! No, no no. She could not do this, she had Eric…

…Eric— What was she doing? She did not know. She didn’t know anything. More tears came from her eyes. 

How had it come to this?

“Nina?” Suddenly she heard a voice from behind her.

***

Matteo was walking around the grounds of the mansion with Luna after they had all sung happy birthday to her and the girls had showcased that video. The party was still going strong, and the energy was still being super high. Knowing Luna, the party would definitely go on until midnight if not longer. 

Matteo's own mood didn’t exactly reflect everyone else’s, but he was able to keep it to himself. It was Luna’s day after all, and he did love seeing her so happy, and Luna really was having time of her life, basically leaping on every step she took. 

“Wasn’t the video so nice?” Luna asked after trying to do a pirouette in heels on the grass, and almost falling on her face onto said grass. “I legit almost cried. We have been through so much, and so many adventures are to come, as long as we are all siempre juntos.”

“Yeah, it was nice,” Matteo agreed, lowering his head just slightly, “if only we were all together,” he said mostly to himself. Yes, it was true that the video had dampened his mood. It just brought back some memories and it was not the easiest seeing the footage of all the times with Gastón. 

They hadn’t talked that much during the past month after that call about Nina and Eric. Gastón was clearly closing himself off, even towards Matteo. Matteo knew Gastón and knew that being in denial was never good for him. He was not coming back to Buenos Aires for the summer, saying that he had gotten a coveted internship at London and could not afford to miss it… well he was the son of Isla and Marco Perida after all.

He had made sure Luna had invited Gastón to the party, but he had declined, even if it would have only been for couple days. Matteo though knew the real reason why he was keeping himself at the other side of the Atlantic. 

“What did you say?”

“Oh nothing.”

“Do you see Nina anywhere?” Luna asked looking around

“Hmmm,” Matteo said glancing around. Eric seemed to be talking to Simon and Pedro, so Nina at least was not with him. “I don’t know, maybe she went to the bathroom or something, don’t worry.”

“Oh I am not, just wondering,” Luna shrugged, “I feel like she kind of vanished after the video. I wanted to ask her opinion on it.”

“She’ll probably come back soon.”

“Hopefully. Because this party got me thinking about that we should have a graduation party…”

“Luna, grandpa wants a picture with us, right now.” Ambar suddenly sprinted in front of Luna and Matteo. Mateo still did not understand how all the girls could maneuver so smoothly with those deathtrap shoes. 

“Okay, I’ll be right there,” Luna let go of Matteo’s hand and dashed off. Matteo was about to follow her before Ambar stopped him. 

“Matteo, I left my phone to my room and Simon is too busy with the band. Can you get it for me?”

“Actually I was going to—”

“I was not asking, Matteo,” Ambar looked at Matteo with her more threatening eyes, “Go get my phone.”

“Okay, okay,” Matteo shook his head and started walking towards the door. If you were the boyfriend of the birthday girl, your job apparently was the delivery boy of the hosts. Okay, not that he really minded. He could go get Ambar her phone and be nice.

Matteo walked back to the mansion and climbed over the side staircase to Ambar‘s room. He grabbed her phone from her bed—how had she even forgotten it there?

He was checking his own phone as he came out of Ambar’s room. Matteo sighed of relief when he noticed that Gastón had actually answered to his latest message. They still needed to talk but full on phone call would need to be left to the next day. Matteo also was thinking that maybe he should take some time, probably after Luna’s graduation, to go visit England. They needed to talk face to face, as he was getting quite worried about Gastón…

He was about to turn back towards the side staircase when he heard a noise that seemed to be coming from down the hall. 

Matteo did not know if this was against his better judgment —Well he had been told multiple times that he had no “better judgment”— or not, to go after a suspicious noise in a mansion that could as well be haunted. Also, disturbed people had attempted to burn it down too, multiple times, but his curiosity got the better of him. He could fight off a burglar if it came to it. He slipped Ambar’s phone to his pocket and started moving.

As Matteo walked further in the hallway, he heard the noise again. Now more clearly. It sounded like someone was crying. 

There was no doubt about it as he approached the grand staircase of the Mansion. As he walked closer to it, he saw a figure huddled at the top of the stairs. 

Matteo instantly knew who it was, even when they were not facing him. He had witnessed Jazmin working on all the girls’ hair before the party, because she had insisted of doing his and Simon’s hair as well —Pedro had ran away. That brown straight hair with a half updo, as Jazmin had called it, was unmistakable. 

“Nina?”

Matteo saw her jump and frantically turn around. He had obviously scared her. Her glasses were in her hand and face tearstained.

“It is me, Matteo. What are you doing here?” He asked as he started walking towards her, “Are you okay?”

“...Yes…uhm, Well… no,” She was trying to wipe the tears off her face. “It’s stupid.”

“I doubt that if you are like this.” Matteo pointed out. “Do you want me to get someone?”

“NO! No, please … don’t get Eric.” Nina’s voice had quickly gotten fast and desperate… before she buried her face into her hands and, burst back into tears. Matteo furrowed his brow. It was pretty interesting that she had said that… specifically not wanting her boyfriend present. 

Hold up a second, were they even boyfriend and girlfriend? Matteo honestly had never heard Nina call Eric that. Not that Matteo had even meant him. He was never going to lie and say that he even liked the guy or whatever he had with Nina, but as Luna had said, he was not really allowed an opinion… but you gotta have some solidarity with your brother.

Matteo stepped on the stairs and sat down next to Nina. He did not wanna leave her alone while she was like this. He had gotten to know her much better during the past year, and he definitely held affection and protectiveness towards her, as she was extremely important to two people Matteo loved the most: Luna and Gastón. 

“Did something happen?” Matteo draped his arms around her, as he remembered that Gastón had mentioned in passing in some side sentence that Nina calmed down easily from physical contact. 

“No, nothing happened.” Nina sobbed, “That is the problem. I— I don’t feel anything… or at least the right things.”

“Are we talking about Eric…?” Matteo questioned carefully. Nina just nodded. Matteo tried to mask the smile on his face. He had been right, and had not just imagined the nothingness between Nina and Eric. He had always failed to see what ever Luna was always gushing about being so cute. 

“I have no right to be unhappy. I shouldn’t be, but I am. I can’t help it. Everyone was so happy for me, I just thought that, since it seemed to make so much sense to everyone, it would make sense to me too.” Nina seemed to start calming down, even when her voice still seemed quite shaky. 

“No one can tell you how you should be feeling,” Matteo responded. “I learned that the hard way.”

“I thought that I was over it. That I could move on. But I don’t know anything anymore. I don’t know what I am doing.”

Matteo absolutely knew who the topic had changed into. “Honestly, we both know that I won’t be unbiased on that front, but it never is a good idea to lie to yourself. Everyone will understand.”

“Matteo, he doesn’t love me anymore. He said he was happy for me… ” Nina shook her head, “...I, I wasn’t happy about that. I don’t know what I was expecting him to say. That he would come back and fight for me? I just convinced myself that I could get over it.”

Matteo really wanted to tell her the truth about that phonecall but he knew that it was not his to tell. They needed to talk that out themselves. “Nina, you know Gastón as well as I do. Do you really think he would ever stand in the way, if he thought he was in the way of your happiness.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Small smile formed onto Nina’s lips. “But I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore, about my future, about anything. It is a blurr. I have messed everything up for myself and I can’t see a way forward.”

“I know how that feels.” Matteo responded, “Trust me, it will all become much cleared if you really think what you want and care about. And do not think that you will disappoint anyone. Everyone loves you.”

Matteo got up and offered his hand to Nina. “I think we better head back. They’ll be having all the fun without us.”

“I can’t go back out there,” Nina shook her head. “I can’t face Eric… this is not the time and place for it. I need to get my head in straight. And… Luna will know something is wrong. I know I need to tell her, but I can’t do it here, she’d drop everything. It is her party, I can’t do that.”

“I can make up an excuse for you, if you want to slip away.” Matteo offered as Nina got up from the stairs. 

“Thank you,” Nina hugged him.

“Someone once asked me to take care of you,” Matteo hugged her back, “I don’t think I succeeded in that, but maybe I can still redeem myself. You are my friend, and we all stick together.”

“We do.” Nina smiled at him and started walking down the stairs. Matteo turned around and took the route he had come from.

“Here’s your phone,” Matteo threw the phone at Ambar as he got back to the garden. Ambar, Simon and Luna had been chatting with Delfi and Pedro next to the band gear. 

“Finally!” Ambar said as she effortlessly caught the phone. “What took you so long?”

“I could not find it.” Matteo remarked as he joined the others. “Maybe you should have sent someone that actually knows the current layout of your room… like Simon.”

Ambar looked like she wanted to snark something back at Matteo, but she just rolled her eyes, flipped her ponytail and wrapped her arm around Simon’s arm. Matteo grabbed Luna’s arm and pulled her a little further away from the circle. 

“I ran into Nina while I was on the goose chase for Ambar’s phone,” He started.

“Oh, did she come back out with you?” Luna questioned.

“No, she went home.”

“Why?”

“She had a huge migraine,” Matteo lied smoothly. That was something that would sound believable and not make anyone too worried. “Probably from the sun. And the festival this morning was probably exhausting for her as it was her performance. So not really surprising.”

“Oh noh,” Luna looked alarmed, “I should call her, make sure she is alright.”

“Luna, she knew you would make a huge fuss,” Matteo took Luna by the shoulders, “and she didn’t want to take attention away. It is your big day after all, she didn’t want to ruin it.”

“Oh,” Luna looked down, “okay then.”

“Call her tomorrow,” Matteo suggested, “Now come on. Are we just going to let that delicious looking cake melt in the sun?”

“Oh, did I tell you that Mom made it double chocolate?” Luna started pulling Matteo towards the cake. Her attention was successfully diverted. 

***

3:00 AM. Nina rolled on her side in her bed. You should never look at the alarm clock when you were having a hard time sleeping, but there she was. 

Not that it could make things any worse than they already were. Thoughts swirled in her head and she was unable to get them in order. 

Matteo was right, she should just be true to her heart and listen to it and not her head. 

In her head, being with Eric made sense. He was nice and sweet to her. He reminded her of herself… when she had been younger. She should give him a chance, she owed him that… Everyone thought so… but did she think so? 

What did she feel? She had felt content at the start because… because everyone had been so happy. Happy for her, because she was happy. Had she actually been? Been happy? 

She tried of thinking of Eric. Being with him had not been unpleasant, just, something was missing. She was not really sure about what she felt for him. Did she feel anything for him? The only thing she felt right now, was guilt. Not the overwhelming warmth and happiness that made her heart race. Everything that just a voice over the phone could cause.

She didn’t not feel the buzz when she touched his hand or the constant need to be close to him. There was nothing physical about the relationship. No attraction… Maybe it would come with time…

Be honest with yourself Nina … the truth was that… she did not want any of that. She could not even imagine it. It was not just nerves because she was inexperienced, because it was not true. She had done it before. 

She and Gastón had gone all the way just three months into the relationship. She could never regret it, it had been incredible. Any time he had even just touched her, the feeling was indescribable. She had not felt something like that since… 

Even just the way he had known something was wrong from her voice after saying once sentence. She missed that too.

Tears crept their way back into her eyes. The searing pain in her heart returned in waves. She could not keep going like this. He was gone, but that didn’t change the things with Eric. She could not keep doing this to him. She had seen firsthand what happened when the relationship was stretched too thin while there was nothing left. .

She almost instinctively reached out to the drawer in her nightstand. Her hands found the fabric easily, she never could have been able to get rid of it. Nina wrapped the green scarf around her left hand and laid back on the bed. 

Next morning she was not feeling that better, so she tried to keep busy. Alongside all of her personal problems, she still had to figure out, well, the future. 

The graduation was going to be in three days and she still had not finished any college applications. Her mother had surprisingly not been super overbearing on the topic, but Nina had the feeling that if she didn’t present her with some answers soon, Ana’s patience was going to run thin. 

This should be easy, if only she actually knew what she was doing. 

Nina was sitting on the floor of her room and had probably a thousand different university leaflets in front of her. Yeah, honestly, she was trying to focus on this to avoid the eventual conversation with Eric. But this also needed to be done, so what better time than now?

She reached for one of the leaflets and looked it through. Why was this so hard? She had thought that after figuring out the major, picking the school would come automatically. 

“Could I just get some kind of sign?” She leaned into her bed and sighed. How had she let this come to this? 

She thought back to year ago. She had had the perfect plan then, which would have given her everything she had ever wanted. But she had let that all go. She really didn’t know what she wanted, huh? Why had she stayed? Staying for the writing post seemed ridiculous right now, but she had not known it then. She had given up all her happiness, all her clarity for that, and had ended up here—Why had she done it all?

Suddenly her phone started ringing, making Nina jump for a second. She frantically looked around to see where she even had left it before getting up to get it from her nightstand. That must have been Luna, probably wanting to ask why she had disappeared last night… the call was coming from an unknown number. So it was not Luna.

“Nina Simonetti,” Nina answered the phone. 

“Nina, Hello,” a vaguely familiar male voice rang from the other end of the line. “this is Manuel Ramirez, the headmaster of Blake South College.” That's why the voice had sounded familiar.

“Hello, Mr. Ramirez,” Nina answered, not really sure why she was receiving calls from the headmaster.

“First I want to say how sorry I and all the faculty are that you won’t be giving a speech at your Graduation ceremony this Saturday.” Probably about two weeks ago after they had gotten their final exam results back Nina had received the news that she was the top student of their graduating class. Traditionally that would mean the she would have been required to give a speech at the graduation, but thankfully she had been allowed to turn it down. She would never have the courage for a speech. From what she knew, the one giving the speech was the student who had gotten highest results after her. She did not know who that was, but thats how Gastón had given the speech last year. 

“I know, but as I told Mr. Perez already, I don’t really like to give speeches and I am sure the one who has been offered the honor will be more than up to the task and I am really looking forward to hearing their speech.”

“We understand that,” Mr. Ramirez continued, “and that is not what I called you to discuss. Well, as you know already, you received the highest marks across the board. So, I have the honor to inform you that you have received the Educación Internacional Para Jóvenes Prometedores Del Mañana scholarship. It is sponsored by the city hall of Buenos Aires, and is highly coveted. Blake is one of the rare schools that has the qualifications for its students to even receive it.”

Nina was too stunned to speak for a second. She had not expected this at all. “I am sorry… I don’t think I have ever heard of that.”

“Only the top graduating student can qualify for the scholarship, and even then it is not guaranteed,” Mr. Ramirez explained, “No one at Blake has received it in a couple of years due to varying circumstances.”

“Yea, but, what is it exactly?”

“Like the name suggests, it is a scholarship for international study programs. It covers five-year University tuition, which means to masters, plus the student accommodations for a one year.”

“Wow… uhm, that is a lot,” Nina was still wrapping her head around all of it. “Does this apply to all the schools?”

“Not all of them, of course. All the Universities included in it are ones with teaching languages other than Spanish. This excludes most of the Spanish and Latin American universities. The latest schools added to the scholarship are from the Nordic region of Europe including The University of Helsinki and the Aalto University.”

“So this is for learning new cultures?”

“I won’t beat around the bush Nina,” Mr. Ramirez continued. “This scholarship is for you to go to an Ivy League school. Harvard, Yale, Stanford, and of course Cambridge and Oxford. Blake is a coveted upper secondary school and we expect great things from our alumni. We have not had an alumna in a noteworthy school outside of Argentina in five years until last year when one of our graduates went to Oxford. He is keeping the name of Blake South College up, and we have all the faith that you do the same.”

“Of course, but I need time to think.”

“I’ll sent you all the detail via email. I am sure you’ll make the school proud.”

“Thank you.” Nina said and heard the call to be disconnected. 

Wow. She had had so much on her plate that scholarships had not even crossed her mind, not to mention massive one like this. It was huge. 

Somehow automatically her hand had reached for another university leaflet… Oxford. The looming, beautiful building stared at her right from the page. The Head Master just had to mention Oxford. 

Was this the sign? Did she believe in signs? She didn’t know. 

Just… after everything had happened, she had just thought that she would spend the rest of her life in Buenos Aires. Moving away had been a fleeting dream, a burst of courage… because she would have not been doing it alone. Now… she was afraid. 

The scholarship was way too good of an opportunity to not take advantage of it. She wasn’t an idiot. Right after they had divorced, her parents had set up a trust for her future education, which they had put in a certain amount monthly. Nina’s Blake tuition had been covered from that. Of course, her parents had tried to one-up each other on their contributions, plus Mora had made couple of donations to it as well. Nina did not know the full amount, but she knew that it was a fair amount. But there definitely was something super tempting to not needing to rely on it. 

Gastón had gone to Oxford with Isla and Marco paying everything out of pocket for him, and of course he had been extremely grateful about it, but Nina knew that he had felt some kind of way about it. Being the sole child of millionaires was not as easy as it maybe seemed. 

“Why are you in my head again?” Of course, she had ended up thinking Gastón again.

All a sudden her phone rang again. This time it was Luna. 

“Hey Luna,” Nina picked up the call.

“Ninaaa!” Luna’s bubbly voice came from the other end. “Hiiii!”

“I am glad you called,” Nina started speaking, “I am so sorry that I left yesterday. I didn’t want to make a scene…”

“It’s all good. Matteo told me you got a headache.” Luna responded, “How are you feeling? Any better?”

“Yes, it went away during the night.” Headache? Matteo clearly was quite good at the excuse game, which should have not been surprising. Nina did get stress migraines from time to time. “I am fine now.” She felt really bad about lying to Luna like this, but she didn’t know what to say. She needed to figure everything out. But she would tell Luna the truth. 

“Okay well, what are you doing now?” 

“Universities. Trying to sort all that out before Mom’s patience runs out.”

“Uuuuu, me too!” Luna’s voice got even more excited. “I can’t believe that we are graduating on Saturday. Matteo has been helping me and Ambar is taking me shopping today. What are you wearing?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Nina questioned. “Mora sent me a dress from her upcoming collection.”

“Take a picture. I wanna see it. Can you come over tomorrow? I wanna talk to you about the plans I have made about community college.”

*

“I missed you!” Luna jumped to hug Nina as she opened the Mansion door the next day. 

“You didn’t see me for a day.”

“Yeah, but still.” Luna did a small twirl. “What are those?” Luna was gesturing the pile of booklets Nina was holding-

“University pamphlets. I wanted to talk with you about all of that and you mentioned community college.”

“Yes of course,” Luna said as she skipped ahead when Nina walked inside. “Simon and Ambar are out, and so is Pedro, so only Matteo is here with us. We can talk in peace. Mom just brought some cookies to the living room… I left my phone upstairs. I’ll go get it real quick.”

Nina shook his head laughing as she watched Luna run up the stairs before realizing that she was getting up the wrong staircase. 

“She still does not know how to navigate here,” Nina turned around and saw Matteo shaking his head behind her. He had appeared from nowhere. “I was sitting on the couch, so I heard what you were talking about.” 

“Yeah. It is maybe time to actually make decisions about all of this,” Nina gestured to the brochures in her hands. “Luna mentioned leadership and teaching classes at community college.”

“Yes, that idea came to her in a dream yesterday. You know how she is. She will probably tell you more about it soon.” Matteo explained, “Monica and Miquel are really happy about her actually having a plan.”

“It is a good one. Academics are not really her and that way she can have her career in skating as she wants.”

“Yep… How are you doing?” Matteo changed the subject. “You look better than couple days ago.”

“I don’t know how I am doing.” Nina shook her head, “I made some decisions, but totally lost with others.”

“What decisions?”

“Eric,” Nina shook her head, “I just… I can’t keep doing this to him. He deserves much more than me. But I don’t know how I am supposed to tell him that. I don’t want to break his heart.”

“Well, truth is always a good start.”

“I know.” Nina said looking down, “I better put these down on the table.” she gestured to the leaflets she was carrying and started walking toward the living room. 

“Hmmmmm… Oxford huh?”

Nina turned around and to her horror, she saw Matteo holding the Oxford leaflet. When had she dropped it?

“Uhmmm, well, I just had it there.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are pretty bad liar?” Matteo said looking at her. “Look, you don’t need to tell me, but I want you to know that you can trust me. I am your friend.”

“I know. Okay. The headmaster called me—” Nina started to explain, “—and told me that I have gotten a scholarship called: Educación Internacional Para Jóvenes Prometedores Del Mañana.”

“Wow, thats big.”

“You know what it is?”

“I am pretty sure Dad was just and just able to mask his disappointment that I didn’t get it.” Matteo laughed, “But yeah, I know what it is. So you were thinking about Oxford?”

“Well…” Nina struggled to find the right words, “...the scholarship kind of came out of the blue. I don’t know, honestly.”

“Wasn’t it your dream to go study abroad last year?”

“Well, yes, It was, but…”

“But now it is not anymore?”

“No, thats not it. I guess, it still is? Maybe. I would love to go, learn and live like an adult, with no Mom hovering over my shoulder and England is an amazing place.”

“Then what is the problem?” Nina saw Matteo to furrow his brow. “If you say Gastón, I won‘t believe you. I know him and you do too, he would never have a problem with you following your dreams.”

“I know that.” Nina smiled. “Guess part of that is the fact that I felt like he closed the door on that path for me, but I wanna open it again, but I don’t know how. And how can I leave everybody? All my friends are here and the team…”

“Nina, Roller will always be important part of all of us, but we are all also growing up.” Matteo started talking, “Simon and Pedro are trying to keep the band afloat, I have the label plus the studies I am doing, so do Jim, Yam, Delfi and Jazmin. Ambar is going to law school. Everyone will be going their separate ways, and I think you know that. If you want my opinion, I think you should do it. Taking risks can be worth it, especially if its for something you really want. Plus it seems like you have already made the decision.”

“I have?”

“You got a scholarship that basically enables you to go study basically in any school in the world, but the only thing you are thinking about is Oxford.”

Matteo was right, and Nina knew it. Maybe she had always known it. “But how do I tell Luna?”

“Tell me what?”

Nina turned around and saw that Luna was standing on the bottom of the staircase.

{}

Aaaaaa! It is honestly quite weird that I have been writing for the soy Luna fandom for about two years and have not yet written about how Gastina got back together. Well here it finally is, the Gastina Oxford story as we could say. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter

You all know what I think about the dynamic Matteo and Nina were never allowed to have, because you bet Matteo was never fan of Eric. He is the one who knows the other side of the whole mess and is able to help Nina through it.

Additional note: This will in no way shape or form be an accurate representation of what it is like to study at Oxford. I don't study there and there is only so much research you can do. Plus if I'd try to keep things 100 % accurate, the story would suffer, and the story itself is not all about Oxford or their studies. That being said, if you are a student at Oxford and reading this... I am so sorry.

#Soy Luna #soy luna fanfiction #Gastina #getting back together #because they are soulmates and nothing can keep them apart in the end #University fic #Through Gastón and Nina's years at Oxford #Other ships are included in the side: #Lutteo #Simbar #Pelfi #Red Rose blooms in the Oxford Garden

[ahurtnheart]

-The Great War-

Inohima, one shot, 662 words

-This was it she had everything she ever wanted and more. After so much loss and grief it was all over, we survived the Great War-

I felt the slight breeze hit my face and watched the sun set off my front porch, the dim orange light lit up my front yard. The two little boys roll around in the cool grass as they shout and shriek whatever words they can say. Tipping back in forth in my rocking chair as I cradle my pregnant stomach. But something about this scene felt so… nostalgic in a way. Running around the front yard of my now destroyed childhood home. Yelling and chasing my brother around the yard while my bare feet feel the cool grass beneath me. The warm sun of the early summer months shine across my young and naive face. Running towards my father as he arrived home and the feeling of his warm embrace. That was what felt like lifetimes ago, and a way it was.

- some where in the haze I got a sense I’ve been betrayed-

“Boruto” I say as I fight back tears “I hope this was worth it”

The words faintly came out of his mouth “What was worth it?”

I hesitated “ruining my life, killing our parents, taking any amount of normal life away from me, forcing a little girl into a life she didn’t want to lead but she was told it was the way to honor her parents, I hope your happy”

The word stabbed him like a thousand knives digging into his chest “I-I’m sorry, I really am-”

I stared at the edge of the tall mountain “THEN WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO IT” hot tears streaming down my cheeks

“Hima” he said with desperation in his voice

My voice sounded sharp “don’t call me that”

-My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War-

I felt a cold hand on my shoulder, “Hima, we should head back down” Inojin whispered

“Mhm” my voice was still shaky

I reached down to find his hand. He held on tight and didn’t let go until he knew we were safe. He held me in his arms as we spent weeks trying to rebuild. He didn’t understand, he didn’t have to; but no matter what he was still there like he had been there and I always had a hand to reach for.

9 years later

-I vowed I would always be yours- I felt many pairs of eyes on me but I just kept my head up looking to the end of the isle. Our tear filled eyes met and we knew this was just the start, the start to something else something else. We had so much together but now we would have more, and it was all for us. I looked over to my little boys on the edge of their seats, they were never good at sitting still. I shoot a smile at them and I was met with two crinkley baby blue eye smiles. I turned my head back to Inojin. “I do” he said Without hesitation I said “I do too”

6 Months later -It turned into something bigger-

I felt the wood underneath my bare feet as I tipped back and forth . The wind didn’t stop but only got stronger, it felt refreshing and like I needed a breeze. My attention went back up to my little boys who were running around. I looked at them with a smile and the tears were streaming down my face. When they saw they came running over.

“Mama are you ok?” One asked with concern

“Mhm” I said in a shaky voice

“Why are you crying mama?” The other one asked with large baby blue eyes meeting mine

“I’m just really happy”

“Ok!” They said in unison and ran off

I heard the front door open and could smell the herbal tea and paint of his apron. He set his cup down and sat next to me. He put his hand on mine. We both looked up we both knew what we were thinking.

We survived The Great War.

#himawari uzumaki #inohima #boruto naruto next generations #Nartuo #post timeskip #inojin yamanaka

[xoxo-bunnydumpling]

I have been told I talk about Eli too much so here's what I did yesterday with minimal hot librarian involvement:

When I woke up it was already hot as shit so I had an iced coffee instead of a hot one and shared a cigarette with the neighbor. I've been trying to re-kick the habit by leaving my Endo-Day pack at his house, on his porch, because if I brought them home I'd smoke them all in a day and then go feral when I ran out. I like this neighbor a lot aside from him agreeing to be the smoke miser and I also like his dog and am not as annoyed as I should be that it comes to my yard to poo quite often. She's so fluffy, I can't be mad at such a fluffy girl.

I got bored so I cooked breakfast and in the midst of going over my script for Saturday I got bored again a few hours later and cooked lunch. Do I miss being a chef? Hell naw. I think I like cooking more now that I did before it became a chore. Breakfast was chocolate gravy and biscuits by request, and lunch was an everything-bagel and lox themed frittata because deep down I'm fully a breakfast-ass bitch.

Did a lot of laundry? Cleaned the bathroom? Remembered I had a real-job-of-work thing to get done and frantically finished it and submitted my invoice? All things that happened.

Had a weird dinner. I had an idea for confited tomatoes, but wasn't really sure what to do with them...so they ended up on crispbread with goat cheese and pickled beets. We ate a whole box of Wasa, which is not hard to do but still. Eli (sorry! He lives here and I like him) apparently finds this kind of dinner to be preferable, as a certified all-day grazer.

I usually prefer to eat a shit ton and then take a nap.

At some point, we decided we needed nectarines so we walked to the grocery store just as it was getting dark. I will never tire of seeing fireflies, or all the tall trees, or all the flowers and bushes and lush green grass on the way. I've lived here a long time now, and the beauty of summer never gets old. There are nice things about the desert I left behind...but, I'll take this any day.

He takes my hand when we cross the street, and smiles down at me and boy howdy...that never gets old either. We go a little nuts in the produce department, and end up with the aforementioned nectarines but also dragonfruit, plantains, guava, and rambutan...which they haven't had for a hot minute and I'm very excited about.

He's never had them before, so I lead him across the street to a park bench and pop the box open.

"I think I can wait until we get home..." he's been very smiley today, a welcome change from the serious as fuck and stressed as shit looks we've both had on our faces lately. I've felt mine dragging my face down for days.

"Yeah, but why?"

The older I get, the more things happen that I can't control, the more I see the urgency in having rambutan in the park. We wait for so many things, the right time, the optimal conditions. What if there was never a more perfect time for this than now? When has anything technically been optimal? What if perfect does not exist?

I hold one out for him to take after removing the seed...but he doesn't take it. Instead he takes my wrist and I find out real quick why he likes to put his fingers in my mouth on occasion. I don't know what happened to my sweet and innocent giraffe, but the look in his eyes suggests THAT guy just went on hiatus.

"Would have been a shame to wait for that." I think he can read my mind maybe, because he follows that up with, "Too many streetlights, better chill out or go home."

On the way back, we line out how Storytime Guy could shed his wholesome persona and become a bad-boy actor type. It's not a persona at all, and he insists he's still not an actor but the hypotheticals are fun to play with.

"Should we go back and tank my image? I'm ready if you are." He actually stops walking and I wonder if I've ruined him enough that he'd actually bone in a public park now. He raises his eyebrow, nodding towards the direction we came from.

"Maybe next time...we've got all summer."

Sometimes I think the best thing for us would be to get into the kind of trouble here that we'd have to move away from. We've both been tangled up and stuck here for over a decade and it's just not home. If it's not yet, it never will be but it does smell like honeysuckle and firework smoke and the stars are so bright with no smog to obscure them that I can tell myself what I do everg May: maybe it's not so bad. Red was born here, I met my husband here. All good things.

"Do you ever wonder how many times we passed each other on the street, not having a clue how in love we'd be someday?"

Who says stuff like that? It seems I have not ruined him entirely.

#hot librarian chronicles #husband material #summer #busy but not #work from home #i'm in love #marriage

[dimorphodon-defect]

5 and 6 from the codex prompts, for a character of your choice?

((*spins the Wheel of Motivation a few times* The wheel picked....Rook, Ricochet, and other!))

5. letters between two of your OC’s companions about them

Boss,

You can’t stay mad at her forever. She saved your life, remember? She pulled Semper Fi out before the mine collapsed, and she carried Illusion out to the water when he collapsed in the surf, all in the midst of a heated battle!

Isn’t that worthy of a second chance?

-Ricochet

---

Rico,

No.

-Rook

---

Boss,

One of these days, we’ve gotta light that lump of coal you’ve got rattling around in your torso.

-Ricochet

6. someone describing a time your OC helped them

Aspyn Fenn loved getting to visit her grandmother’s farm.

There were sheep and goats and so, so, SO many colors of yarn hanging all around the house. Out in the fields, there were horses to feed, and wildflowers to pick, and sometimes - with her parents’ permission - she got to play in the old treehouse on the edge of the property. As long as she was back in the main house before sunset, she could (almost) do whatever she wanted!

On this trip, Aspyn had run out to the treehouse as soon as her father had given her permission. Gammy Ferra had even given her a few treats to feed the sheep and horses she’d see as she ran out there. With her backpack full of art supplies firmly on her shoulders, she’d set off from the house with only a pocketful of treats, and a reminder to be back before sunset.

She fed the sheep that followed her along the fence, and gave a carrot to a lazy horse taking a nap in the sun before ducking through the wooden fence slats to the pasture with the treehouse at its center. It had been a few months since they’d been able to visit the arm, and Aspyn could already see that the old tire swing was missing, and that a shutter missing from one of the windows.

She hoped the roof hadn’t started to leak. That would ruin her fun!

The young girl stopped at the base of the tree, and let out a sound of dismay. Several of the boards that were nailed to the trunk, forming the ladder up, were missing, or broken. She could probably still climb them, but it would be much harder, and she’d probably get a few splinters. Aspyn stood at the base of the tree for a few minutes, sadly looking up at her beloved treehouse and wondering how she was going to play in it without a ladder to climb, and then a shadow fell over her.

There was a sound of mechanical movement - like the sound her Gammy’s tractor made when raising up its bucket - and something heavy crunched on the dried grass of the pasture. Aspyn turned to see a very large hand made out of metal sitting beside her, palm up.

“Going up?” A voice asked her. Aspyn looked up at the towering metal be kneeling in her grandmother’s yard, and broke into a wide smile.

“You’re still here!” She cheered, stepping up onto the offered hand. It’s owner laughed, and very, very slowly began to stand back up without so much as wobbling the little girl.

“Of course I’m still here.” Dragonsbane remembered to reign in her smile at the last minute. Humans tended to react poorly to her sharpened denta, she’d found. “Your gammy hasn’t kicked me out yet.”

“There were people in town telling stories about hunting monsters in the mountains. I was worried they were hunting you.” Aspyn admitted as the hand came level with the treehouse, and she stepped off onto the wooden platform. “Hey, do you want to play with me? I have a new activity book that’s all about the ocean!”

“Ooh, the ocean? Count me in!” Aspyn happily shrugged off her backpack to pull out the aforementioned book as Dragonsbane pretended to lean against the treehouse railing without putting any pressure on it. “Does it have anything about whales? I like whales.”

“Is it because they’re as big as you?” Aspyn asked with a giggle. Dragonsbane snorted.

“As big as me? Nah, they’re waaay bigger!”

#ask #headcanon #blackbirdsonthemarsh #((thanks for the ask!! :D)) #((Rook and Dragonsbane's relationship can be best described by a rolled up piece of sandpaper)) #((woo that second one got a little long tho)) #((so it's under a cut))

[pointy-pup]

Due to our recent renovating of our yard somebody isn’t allowed to be out without supervision and her opinion on this is very clear

#Luna #shepherd mix #gsd mix #dogblr #she ran so much that she ruined all the grass in the yard #and she loves to dig holes more than anything #so we filled the yard with fresh topsoil and we're going to sod the whole thing #and then work very hard on getting her to only dig under the deck #designated digging domain #she's been a very sulky girl about the whole thing #but she's just happy i let her lie in the fresh dirt while im working out there

[mitch-the-simp]

The Only Teenage Bitch Worth My Time (Jotaro x Sister!Reader)

(I literally wrote this for my English final exam- But obviously modified and without cursing.)

(Y/n) had always been the star child; not one instance in her life had her intellectual potential been questioned by anyone in her family. Alas, this was one of those moments in which she felt like she didn't deserve to be the gifted child of the Joestar family.

Her brother, Jotaro, was as clever and quick-thinking as her, yet he was treated as intellectually challenged because of his demeanor. He was a rude teenager in his junior year that simply walked around acting like he didn't care about anything. He could walk into a restaurant and if he didn't like the food, he would refuse to pay no matter what. If you were to ask him for his opinion on how you looked, if he didn't like it, he would tell you his opinion straight up. No sugar coating, no nice little words; a simple "You look stupid." would suffice. Not to mention he didn't seem to respect his mother.

(Y/n) tried her best to appease her adoptive mother, Holly. But Jotaro? Oh, he didn't care about respect. He would talk back to her, go out and leave her to worry until he returned hours after his curfew. Yet, for some reason, their mother never scolded him. It was like she didn't even care about all that. She would let anything slide so easily. It baffled her to an impossible extent.

Yet, she knew there was more to him than that. (Y/n) seemed to be the only person he actually cared to talk to. She found it odd at first but eventually stopped asking herself why.

Jotaro would tell her about how annoying it is to walk to school and instantly be swarmed by his annoying fangirls. And with all honesty, (Y/n) felt the same way when she saw all those girls literally push her away from walking with her brother to school.

It wasn't soon until (Y/n) picked up a few delinquent habits from Jotaro, though. They were walking down the pavement as (Y/n) spoke to Jotaro, "Hey, you think I'm gonna do good in that science fair? The top prize is 148000¥!". In her hands, he held her science fair project. A small homemade printer she had been working on for months.

"You're pretty smart, I think you'll give those other nerds something to be scared about," Jotaro mumbled.

"You think you can help me set it up in the gym?" She asked smiling at him softly.

And just before he could respond, the stampede of girls ran towards them. They pushed around to be able to bother Jotaro. And when they did, one of them pushed (Y/n) out of the way, causing her to drop her project.

And that's when it happened. She balled up her fists in anger and punched the girl in the face.

Jotaro looked at her, taken aback by his sister's actions. Then he chuckled, pulled the brim of his black hat down to his face, and mumbled a proud, "Good grief." With that, he continued walking. Leaving (Y/n) alone to be caught and sent to detention, which eventually led to her being suspended for a week.

So that was exactly why she was sitting in the middle of her living room right now.

"Why'd it have to be today of all days..." she thought to herself. The reason being that her father, Sadao, came back from his Jazz tour that same day to go support her in the Science fair.

She looked around, wondering if there was anything she could do while she waited. Eventually, she decided to change out of her school uniform. Making her way to her room and changing her Japanese uniform with something that accommodated more to her Italian fashion desires.

She fixed her (H/c) hair and adjusted her (F/c) dress. Though, just as she was sliding on her boots, she heard a car in the driveway.

"Oh shoot-" she exclaimed, running out into the living room. She knew darn well that her mom had already informed her dad of her suspension. So playing it off was no option.

Her father stepped out of the car and hugged her mom. As soon as he saw him walk towards the house, she knew she was fucked.

"(Y/n), I would like to have a word with you young lady," he announced, not wasting a single second after entering through the front door.

"Yes sir." She gulped. She slowly walked towards him, already regretting what she had done earlier that day.

Her father sat down on the couch and patted the space next to him, signaling her to sit down. Once she did as instructed, her father sighed.

"(Y/n), your mother informed me of what happened in school today. Why did you do that?" he asked calmly.

(Y/n) grew nervous. She was too scared to lie to him, but would he be mad at the truth? She just knew he would, but she honestly had no choice, did she?

"I... I just hate it when all those girls crowd around Jotaro. He doesn't even want all that attention! But you know what just infuriated me?! They are constantly pushing through me to get to him! They made me drop my project! And- and you know what's worse?! I CAN'T EVEN ENJOY A SMALL WALK WITH MY OWN BROTHER! And I just thought, 'Ok, what would Jotaro do if he was as mad as I am?' And well... I don't want to excuse my actions... but it just... happened." She ranted, her voice trailing off at the end.

"I see, you were angry about a situation you constantly find yourself feeling helpless in, so you decided to strike at it as you've seen Jotaro do when he's in a problem." He spoke, attempting to understand what she meant.

"Well... he only reacts like that when someone makes him mad, so yes." She mumbled back.

"See, sweetheart, the past few years, I've seen that Jotaro looked at you as too perfect to even try to be like you. And now I see that in your own way, you see Jotaro as stronger than you. Perhaps more courageous? You have found a hidden nobility inside of him. A resilience that he doesn't even show us. And I know you admire it so much, that you wish you had the capability to be as carefree and careless as he is." Sadao commented.

"I... I guess you're right." (Y/n) admitted.

"Whether you see it or not, you two make a great duo because you're what the other wished they were. I'm not saying it wasn't wrong that you punched that girl in the face, but I'm saying that you should try to channel that newfound courage into... less violent things." He suggested.

"Just go where destiny guides you my cherry blossom," Holly added as she walked by them on her way to the kitchen.

"I'll take this as permission to be mean to people, verbally."

"Take it as you will, just don't get yourself into any more trouble, ok kid?" He clarified.

"Yes sir!" She cheered.

Sadao got up from the couch, he was about to leave the living room, when he stopped in his tracks and turned to see his daughter once again, "Oh and (Y/n)."

"Yes, Papa?"

"You're grounded."

"Awww! What about the science fair?" She asked.

"Well, you have a project to fix." He reassured her, letting her know he was still going to take her.

"Can I at least pick Jotaro up from school?"  You asked.

"Yes, but remember the conversation we had, (Y/n)." He responded as he walked into the kitchen. 

(Y/n) nodded at him, as she walked outside and laid on the grass. As she looked at the clouds. She really wished Jotaro had come to get her out of detention. Or had at least snuck her out of school for one of his smoking sessions before she got caught. Obviously, (Y/n) herself didn't smoke, so she really was just gonna sit there and maybe even snack on something while they both had a sensible conversation. 

That's where she got an idea: Jotaro was probably skipping class to smoke right now, and she had nothing to do, so she thought sneaking out of the house to hang out with him wasn't a bad idea. So she went back into the house and walked into the kitchen where her parents were talking to each other.

"Hey mom, dad, I think I'm gonna go take a nap until Jotaro is out of school." She announced.

"Alright honey, just let me know If you want anything, ok?" Holly smiled as she kissed her cheek.

(Y/n) went into her room and got a small backpack full of snacks. Slowly, she opened the door back up and ran out into the yard and out of the house's territory. Then she ran towards the school.

Once she got there, she looked around for Jotaro. As always, she found him sitting on the bleachers, cigarette in hand and black hat covering his eyes. (Y/n) made her way towards him, climbing up the bleachers and sitting next to him on the top seats.

He slowly turned to her, and chuckled, "Weren't you in detention?" 

"I was suspended you jackass." She responded.

"Oh, well that sounds bad for your permanent record," he spoke softly, taking a puff of his cigarette.

"Yeah... it was worth it though, those bitches have been getting on my nerves for some time now." She shrugged, taking a bag of chips out of her backpack.

"Really? Is it because they always push you around," he asked casually.

"Well, that's part of the issue... but mostly it's because I hate how they just won't leave you alone. It's like every hint you throw at them completely misses them! I mean, you literally call them bitches in their stupid faces!" (Y/n) complained.

"Yeah, it's pretty damn annoying..." he mumbled softly. 

He didn't want to actually thank her for getting him out of that situation; it would ruin the careless delinquent image he'd worked so hard to build. But he saw his sister's sweet gesture as the only reason why she was the only teenage bitch worth his time.

And even though he didn't say it, (Y/n) knew damn well that he was thanking her from the bottom of his heart with that response. 

"So, you want to help me fix my printer before the fair? I promise I'll let you use it." (Y/n) asked.

"Sure, it starts at 10, doesn't it?" 

"Yeah, I'm sure that if you help me we can get it done by 9:30." She spoke.

"But you have to tell me what to do, or else I'll probably fuck it up," he responded.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you, little Joot!" (Y/n) said as she pulled down his hat.

"Don't call me that you bitch." He turned away, hiding the embarrassed blush on his face.

"Come on little bro..." She pouted playfully.

Jotaro sighed, "I'm not your little bro. I was here first, you bitch." he grunted.

"Yeah, but I'm still older than you by one year." 

"Yeah, I'm pretty fucking sure that doesn't count." He rolled his eyes.

"Uh- I'm pretty sure that it does. Age is what determines who's the oldest sibling, dumbass." She said, matter-of-factly. 

"I still refuse to accept it." He grunted in annoyance

"Fine... suit yourself... little Joot.~" (Y/n) chuckled.

She wouldn't change what they had for anything in the world, and she knew Jotaro thought the same thing. Even if he didn't really tell her.

#jjba #jotaro x reader #jjba x reader #jotaro cujoh #jotaro kujo #holly kujo #sadao kujo #x sibling!reader #jjba part 3

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Nightcrawler and the Princess

Kurt Wagner x Reader

Fandom: Marvel/X-Men

Summary: Being the princess of a small kingdom has its perks. However, you’re not sure this is a secret you can share with the rest of your friends…

Note: Did I make this a subtle crossover with the Princess Diaries? Yes. Yes I did. Don’t worry about it.

Reader is: Female

Warnings: Swears

Word Count: 1.8k

You carried the large box to the lunch table and set it there, in the middle of your friend group. Jean eyed it curiously.

“What’s that?”

“Care package from my mom.” You replied, using the pair of scissors you kept in your school bag to cut open the packing tape. “She said there’s stuff for the rest of you in here too. Probably candy or something.”

“That’s nice of her.” Scott smiled, watching as you opened the cardboard box.

“Ah, yep.” You reached into the bag and pulled out several packages of Genovian chocolates. “Here you go, guys.” You told them.

Kurt’s eyes narrowed at the bags, his tail hovering behind him curiously. He recognized that packaging. “These…I know these chocolates. Does your mother live in Genovia?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m from there, actually.”

Peter thought for a second, already munching on chocolate. “Wait, I thought you were American.”

“Nope.” You laughed, reaching further into the box and pulling out a handful of little Genovian flags she’d sent. “Ah, right. Independence day is coming up.”

“Where even is Genovia anyway?” Warren asked, admiring the little flag once you handed it to him.

“It’s a tiny little country between France and Italy.” You explained. “It’s really beautiful there, though.”

“It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.” Kurt reminisced, sighing fondly.

“When did you visit?” You asked him.

“Several years ago.” He said. “The circus had a few shows there when I was young. The people were so kind, and the coast sparkled like diamonds.”

“You were with the Munich circus, right?” You asked him, trying to remember. He nodded proudly, a smile settling onto his face. “I was at one of your shows! I knew you looked familiar! Oh my god…” You laughed and shook your head. “I should have put those pieces together sooner.”

“You were there?”

“Yeah! My mom took me for my birthday.” You smiled, remembering the show fondly.

And Kurt knew then the information that you were withholding from the rest of the group. His eyes widened slightly and he studied your features. He remembered you. He remembered that day and he remembered the feeling of his heart hammering when after the show, the Queen of Genovia herself introduced him to her daughter, who was about his age. She’d taken her there because it was the princess’ birthday. Though your meeting was brief, he’d remembered it all this time, thinking of it every once in a while…the time he’d met a princess.

You didn’t look all that different now than you had then. Why you hadn’t told the rest of your friend group, he wasn’t sure, but he would keep the secret for you. Of course he would. He smiled softly, admiring you with his new revelation in mind. Even before he’d figured it out, you’d already been a princess to him anyway.

Peter studied the look on Kurt’s face and squinted. Something was going on. Something was going on and he would get to the bottom of it…

***

Over the weekend, your friend group had decided to go to the mall, but before you left, Kurt knocked on the door to your room.

“It’s open, come on in.” You told him.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the room timidly. You were at your desk, reading what appeared to be a letter written on a piece of paper.

“What’s up?” You asked, not looking up from the letter when you asked it.

“You’re coming to the mall, right?”

“Yeah, what time is it?” You glanced down at your watch. “Oh shit. Sorry I’m late.” You chuckled, folding the note and tucking it into your dress drawer. “My mom wrote me a letter with her package.” You explained.

“How nice!” Kurt smiled and you couldn’t stop your heart from fluttering at the way it lit up his face. “Do you write each other letters back and forth?”

“When I have time to, yeah.” You nodded, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Well, shall we?”

Kurt nodded and offered you his arm. You took it and in a poof of smoke, suddenly, you were standing in the living room, where the others were all standing.

Peter had a weird look on his face and you weren’t sure why, but you knew he was up to no good. He always seemed to be…

The squad piled into the car, as usual, and arrived at the mall in under thirty minutes. Jubilee picked the tunes, which was always a good choice, so the ride there was pleasant and relatively uneventful.

You all walked inside and started the routine of shopping around in all of your usual stores. The prom was coming up, so you all spent some time in the dress place on the upper level of the store.

“What color dress do you think you’re going to get, (Y/N)?”

“Mmm, I’m not sure.” You thought for a moment. “Maybe something pink. Or…blue?”

“I think blue would look great on you.” Jubilee grinned, flipping through the rack of blue dresses.

“I agree.” Jean smiled, her eyes flicking over towards Kurt, who was on the other side of the store with the boys.

“Hey now.” You warned, your cheeks warming at the thought. “What did I say about reading my mind?”

“I didn’t need to read your mind. You’re more obvious than you think you are.” She chuckled.

“What she said,” Ororo agreed, causing your cheeks to flush even hotter. “Why don’t we ask the boys which one you should wear?”

“That’s a great idea.” Jubilee agreed, despite your shaking head. “Hey boys!”

“Yes? What’s going on?” Kurt bamfed over beside you, looking at Jubilee curiously.

“Which dress should (Y/N) wear to prom?” Ororo held up one pink dress and one blue dress.

“The blue one.” Scott said knowingly, crossing his arms and smirking. Okay. So he and Jean had talked, then. “Definitely the blue one.”

“I agree.” Warren nodded.

“What do you think, Kurt?” Scott nudged the teleporter.

“I think you’d look beautiful in anything. But I do like the blue one. It brings out your eyes.”

“T-thanks.” You blushed, giggling. None of you committed to dresses, so after looking around for a while the squad decided to hit the food court while looking over movie times.

“So…” Peter looked up at you and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the rest of the group. “When were you planning to spill the beans…your highness?”

You swore your blood ran cold. You looked up at him, your heart racing in your chest and the color drained from your face. “Excuse you?”

“You heard me.” Peter raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair confidently. “When were you going to tell the rest of us your little royal secret?”

You froze, staring at him for a long time. “Maximoff,” you said through gritted teeth, your eyes glowing faintly. “Choose your next few words very carefully.”

“Oh I have. (Y/N)’s the princess of Genovia.”

“Pfft. As if.” Scott scoffed, chuckling, but he stopped when he looked at the look on your face. “Oh shit, is he serious?”

“Who the fuck told you?!” You asked him, your voice raising the teeniest bit. “The only people who know are Professor Xavier and Dr. McCoy, so which one do I have to kill when we get home?”

“Neither. I snooped in Xavier’s office. Found your file.” Peter shrugged. “And of course, that begs the question: Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Listen…” You exhaled a long breath, looking to each of your friends faces for a moment before fixing your eyes on the table. “When people know, they treat me differently. I don’t think they mean to, but they do and it sucks. I like having friends and I love hanging out with you guys and I didn’t want to ruin that because of something as stupid as status.”

“You’ve got us.” Jean promised. “We’re not going anywhere. This doesn’t change anything. And…I already kind of knew. Not that you think about it often, but every once in a while…”

“I figured that might happen, yeah.” You chuckled. “Thanks for keeping it on the DL.”

“Of course.” She nodded.

“I knew too…” Kurt confessed, looking you in the eye.

You crinkled your eyebrows and then nodded, understanding. Of course he knew. You two had met before, after the show. You’d asked your mother if you could meet some of the performers, and she’d pulled some strings to make it happen. You distinctly remembered meeting Kurt. You remembered his smile and his adorable pointy ears.

“That’s right.” You smiled. “We met.”

“We did.” He agreed, nodding, a smile tugging at his lips and a faintly purple color creeping across his cheeks. “Although, I’ll admit, I didn’t realize it was you until…very recently. We aren’t kids anymore.”

“We sure aren’t.” You agreed, a chuckle escaping your lips.

And it was fine after that. It was normal. Much more normal than you’d expected it to be. Another week came and went. You finished your letter to your mom, Queen Clarisse, and when its response came back in the mail, you found it accompanied by a small picture she had saved all these years. As soon as you looked at it, a smile on your face, you knew you had to show Kurt.

So, you ran out to the courtyard, where you knew he was, and found him reading under the shade of a large tree in the front yard.

“Kurt!”

“What’s up?”

“My mom sent a few copies of this photo. Do you want one?” You asked, sitting next to him in the grass and handing him the photo. He looked it over, holding it very carefully in a large, three-fingered hand.

“This is us, ja?”

“Mmhmm.” You hummed, nodding. “A very long time ago.”

“We were so young…” He murmured, admiring the smile on his face as well as yours. He remembered you’d been nervous to meet him and at first, he thought it was because of the way he looked, but quickly learned it was because you’d been enamored by his performance. Absolutely blown away. You’d been so kind to him then, just as you were so kind to him now.

“We really were.”

“Do you mind if I keep this?”

“It’s all yours.” You told him. “So, what’cha reading?”

“Beauty and the Beast.” He told you. Ever since remembering that one of his best friends was a princess, he’d been on a bit of a fairytale kick.

“Mmm, that’s a good one.” You smiled and tilted your head, your eyes sparkling. “Read to me?”

“Of course.” He laid back against the tree again, holding the book open with his tail.

You got closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting your head against his lean chest. His arm wrapped around you and tugged you closer, and without even thinking about it twice, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline before starting to read again.

Kurt decided then that there was no place in the world he’d rather be than under his favorite tree, a princess resting contently against his chest.

Part 2?

#nightcrawler #nightcrawler x reader #nightcrawler imagine #xmen #xmen imagine #xmen x reader #x-men #x-men imagine #marvel #kurt wagner #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner imagine #kurt x reader #kurt imagine

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕨𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤, 𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝'𝕤 𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕤𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘. 🥀

yandere! Ana (I, the author) x gn! reader.

♥️ DISCLAIMER: This was written for pure and simple fun! I do not behave like this in real life, nor do I act like this. I gathered some descriptions that my friends gave me of myself and I simply twisted them to fit the yandere trope. This is for entertainment purposes ONLY! If someone you know behaves like this, get away from them as fast as you possibly can! With that said, I hope you enjoy the show.

The bright rays of sunlight illuminated the park, soft yellow hues going straight through the newly born green leaves, cascading down upon the pair that lay on the grass. Children ran all over, with their laughter that rang in the air, the new sounds of life came forward the more time they spent there. Even with the endless chatter of the people that surrounded them the pair could only ever focus on each other, stuck in their own little world. Ana couldn't stop smiling as she looked down at her (y/n), a happy smile on her face. She toyed with (y/n)'s hair as they made themselves comfortable on her lap, enjoying the softness of her thighs. Sighing, Ana looked up at the clear blue sky. There was not a single cloud that could taint the pure blue sky, and Ana felt exactly the same - nothing could ruin this moment for her. This picnic date had been in the making for weeks now but the wait had made everything so much sweeter in the end. The food itself was beyond delicious, but being in the company of her sweetheart just made her heart soar with joy. How lucky was she to have this incredible person in her life, she wondered? What did she do to have the most perfect sweetheart in the whole wide world? The intensity of the sudden emotions were getting to her, she would not allow herself to cry, not here. She can't let this sweet moment be ruined by her pathetic self pity, she would not allow it. Biting the inside of her cheek she did her best to cover up her sudden sobs as coughs, but even then she could not stop smiling. Sensing the sudden movement (y/n) lightly pinched her knee, teasing her. Closing their eyes they smiled, happy to be where they were.

Life was so hard, but Ana was always so optimistic. No matter what kind of situation they faced, she always did her best to support (y/n). They became friends quite quickly and Ana had suddenly sneaked into (y/n)'s heart, stealing the key and refusing to give it back. Ana had a bit of a reputation of being a little thief, and it was well deserved. Ever the tease she'd kiss her sweetheart to sleep if she could, tickling them in order to tire them out further.

Inching closer downwards, she pressed her lips at the top of (y/n)'s head, leaving a gentle kiss in her wake. A bit of her red lipstick left a stain but she didn't mind, she quite liked it in fact. Let the whole world that (y/n) was with her and that they were happy together, she was shameless when it came to that. She became worried all of a sudden, paranoid thoughts swimming through her mind as she worried that these moments would be over far too soon. How could she ever be sure that things could stay like this? Is she good enough to keep her little angel? There were so many incredible people in the world, people who were far more beautiful than her, and their intelligence was unmatched. Ana sometimes wondered why (y/n) was with her to begin with, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She was going to enjoy her blessings for as long as she could.

She felt a little ashamed of herself though, for feeling so jealous as often as she did. Her insecurities would skyrocket whenever (y/n) would talk to someone that wasn't her. She did her best to get as much information as she could, always questioning (y/n). Where they were, with who they were, what they were doing, the whole nine yards. (y/n) never really thought much about it though, as Ana never really did anything harmful in the end. She was just a little nosy, nothing too off. In her eyes, Ana was a happy, bubbly person that couldn't hurt another soul. (y/n) could never know about Ana's darker side, Ana did her best to cover that up. If (y/n) knew just how many people Ana had scared away from them, how many people kept their bruises hidden from view, the fear of Ana coming back would linger deep in their subconsciousness. She was a beast when she wanted to be, but (y/n) would receive nothing but the softest of kisses and hugs. It was what they deserved, at the very least.

♥️ TAGS: @sammo-writes-whatever

#yandere #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere scenarios

[lumisfiction]

Just For Tonight

Kakashi x Black Reader

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kishimoto, gif not mine found on the internet.

Warning: Black Reader Insert, fluff

Part 1

****Part Two*****

Y/n’s house was the most enchanting place in all the Hidden Leaf, four miles into a secluded forest lay a stone path with handcrafted lanterns along it. The forest that surrounded it was filled with every color of wild flower that Kakashi had ever seen. It was as if he was no longer in the village, like he’d stepped into another world, y/n’s world. A world of fireflies, sun flowers, moon flowers, roses of every color, and lilies. A pastel painting with a deep green undertone of the entire forest. All around him were arches, tall trees with branches that entwined with evening birds perched on them singing their evening hymn. The dim light of moon peaking through illuminating the walk way. If it hadn't been for Sasuke and Naruto he would have never found this place.

Tugging eagerly at his vest Naruto guided him farther until they came to a large clearing. The moon and stars were brighter as it reflected on the surface of the small pond in front of them. It seemed all matter of creatures came out tonight in celebration of y/n, the sounds around him growing louder. A pleasant loudness that blended with the atmosphere of the pond and on its surface glowing lotuses glided past. Naruto reached down and picked one up, crystal liquid pooling over his small fingers. Kakashi watches as its blue light dimly lights the boy's youthful face. He looked his age then, like a child who held the most precious thing in the world. “These are her favorite” cupping it delicately Naruto presented his hands to him. “I know you came last minute Kakashi sensei, you can bring this as a gift” Naruto grinned a mischievous glint in his eye. “A gift” Kakashi scratched the back of his neck, painfully aware of his unpreparedness. In his haste to cheer Naruto up he’d forgotten that he just returned from a mission. His clothes were dirty and his hair was grimy. “I think a gift is the least of my concern” Kakashi pulled at his filthy pants, he could fill the dirt under his fingernails. He thought about y/n then how pretty she would look and her face when she saw him. It would be their first official meeting and this is what she’ll see. Her first impressions forever skewered by his dirty attire. It made his hands tremble and he felt heat rush throughout his body, a nervousness swelling somewhere deep within him. Nervous to meet y/n, like a school boy who finally gets to spend time with his crush.

Sasuke looked behind him observing a riled up Kakashi. Even in the moonlight and a half exposed face he knew exactly what his tinted cheeks meant. “She shouldn’t be home yet, you can freshen up once we get there” his arms practically spilling over with an assortment of flowers. Kakashi looked over at Sasuke sighing, was he that easy to read? How long has it been since he was social? Was he so out of touch that he couldn't even manage to hide his emotions from a prepubescent boy.

His mind wandered off again as he began to contemplate his decision to attend. It was all too sudden, what if he made of a fool of himself? Or worse what if he isn't welcomed? Thoughts were spinning around and round his head so much so that a scowl returned to his face and his exposed brow scrunched. His inner conflict occupied all of his attention so much so he hadn't noticed Sasuke making kissing noises. Not until the boy began to tease him childishly.

"Kakashi and y/n sitting in a tree k.i.s.s.i.n.g" Sasuke relentlessly teased Kakashi with a child-like twinkle in his eyes. It was perplexing, the cool headed vengeful Sasuke was the polar opposite of his former self. Laughing and smiling as he bent down to pick even more flowers along the water. Stopping to look them over and disregard the flowers he no longer wanted.

It was so out of character for him that Kakashi hadn't noticed he was gawking. “He always brings her freshly picked flowers” Naruto came into view with a smug look on his face. Kakashi hadn’t noticed until tonight how different with her in their life they had become. How both of them practically morphed into children right before his eyes. Naruto was feather light and cheerful while Sasuke was playful, thoughtful, and happy. They look so innocent he almost forgot they were shinobi, genin who’d soon participate in the chunin exams. He recounted to himself a time when he looked like them. When he too was happy and innocent. Just a boy and his father.

All of them fell in a silent stride as they began walking again. Crossing over a small bridge that brought them to their destination at last. Willow trees and what seemed like a thousand fireflies greeted them. There at the foot of the path stood the most beautiful wooden arch with yellow flowers twisting around it's bark. Dangling loosely from it a chipped wooden sign that read "Happy Birthday y/n. “I made that” Naruto’s face gleamed with all the pride of a not so masterful craftsman as he pointed his finger in the direction of if. Sasuke scoffed as he remarked how tacky he thought it looked. With an ego as big as his competition he stated how much better his lanterns were in comparison. Naruto glared at Sasuke, his eyes sharp as he retaliated with an insult of his own. There was no end to it, both of them going on and on about what y/n liked best. It was driving Kakashi a little crazy, having to go on missions with their insistent contest was one thing, but this was a whole other sort of annoying. The kind that made him so irritated that all the cool level headed temperament in the world couldn’t prevent the annoyed look on his face. He thought about home and his warm recliner. The green hardback book that he so often read to indulge his perverted mind. The faint feeling of heat coursing throughout his slightly reddening cheeks. What he wouldn’t give to go back in time and stick to his original plan. A plan that didn't involve two rowdy brats.

The house was a deep oak red with hints of a darker brown. It was large with a stairway above it that led to a smaller house. It had flags and a large telescope pointing toward the eastern sky.

The entire estate was homely and welcoming, the yard embedded with an even more alluring green. Fresh cut grass and lanterns that spread about it illuminating everything in its path. Nothing could make this scene before him more stunning he thought to himself as he looked all around in awe.

She descended from the steps, the most beautiful sight of all, Y/n. Her raven coils shining in the moonlight and her skin glistening like the surface of a smooth diamond. She was most certainly magical, the tail of her white dress flowing behind her when she walked a smooth glide only a goddess would have.

"Y/n" as fast as their feet would carry them Naruto and Sasuke ran to her open arms ruining her pretty dress even though she didn't seem to mind. She embraced them with a hug that only a mother would give her beloved children. When they parted Sasuke was the first to present his gift, a bouquet of wild flowers "Happy Birthday y/n". Her face lit up as she leaned over to kiss his exposed forehead and his face become even more redder than before.

From the distance where Kakashi stood he saw the pearls her pretty teeth, her full lips lifting the bones of her cheeks. The way her breast sat prettily in her clothes and the playful glint in her almond eyes. She seemed to get prettier as he came closer and his eye drifted downward and then up again taking in her full form. All of his former reservations escaped him,his heart thudding in his chest as he made his way closer. Yes, Just for tonight he'll indulge himself.

Author Notes: Trying to decide if this should just be a three part or more series. Next chapter will be released soon and it will contain light smut. Thank you for all your support!

#naruto x poc!reader #x black reader #black y/n #black writers #kakashi x poc reader #black reader #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #kakashi x reader

[hotchscvm]

thank u, next (ft. loki)

Warnings: angst, swearing, jealousy, mentions of sex

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: A new team member in the group shakes things up for the super soldier.

Or: In which Steve casts you aside for a Carter only to regret his decision when he sees you with the God of Mischief.

"Yeet."

Swiveling your chair, you saw the empty pint of ice cream hit garbage can, bouncing off the rim and dropping on the floor with a light thump. You looked at Tony, shaking your head. "You've been hanging out with Peter too much."

"Why, thank you." Tony replied, smirking at you. "So, tell me, you sexy vixen, how do you feel with Thor bringing Loki? You were quiet during the whole argument that almost ended with Barton ripping out his eye."

You shrugged, the heels Tony had bought earlier drawing your attention to your feet. "I'm fine. I don't really care, I mean, I wasn't with you guys when New York happened so I don't really think I get to have an opinion about whether the mind-controlled God of Lies gets a spot in the team."

"You realize your on the team, right? I'm pretty sure your opinion matters especially with the mass murderer joining." Tony replied, accidentally hitting himself with the candy cane in his hands. "I really thought you were going to side with Cap on this one. You always do."

It wasn't a secret that Steve Rogers wasn't completely on board with the plan. That was pushing it; in other words: Steve Rogers despised the plan. If he could kill it, he would've. When Thor had proposed the plan to bring Loki on the team (a punishment from Odin himself)—trying to convince everyone he was "good" now—less than a handful had let him continue speaking. The rest wanted to riot. You had just sat there, a smirk on your face as you watched the six of them fight with each other while Fury shook his head, looking like a disappointed father.

When everyone had came to an agreement on Loki's trial period, there had been pages of rules on what he was restricted on doing including magic and stabbing. Of course, it was very specific so even the God of Mischief couldn't find a loophole. Maybe he could if he tried, which he probably will.

Clicking your tongue, you shrugged, ignoring the little pang in your chest. "Not on this. I'm smart enough to see that there's more reward than risk to have Loki on the team. For example: he's not bad to look at."

Tony choked on his candy cane, coughing up a large piece. With wide eyes, he studied you in silence, trying to figure out if you had been joking. "Are you serious? We should bring you to Helen so you can get your head checked. There's a chance you might have a concussion from the last mission."

"You have eyes, you can see how regal he is despite not genuinely being born royal. And those cheekbones..." you trailed off, biting your lip at Loki's handsome features. Tony raised an eyebrow, slowly shaking his head. "Not that his perfect bone structure justifies all the people he's killed. I'm just very observant being an avenger and all."

"Uh-huh, yeah, yeah, yeah, sure." Tony mumbled, leaning back on his chair, his eyes narrowing after your confession. "Ms. Natalia Romanoff didn't get the chance to tell me what happened between you and old Capsicle."

Rolling your eyes, you spun around in your chair, facing away from the nosy billionaire. "There's not that much to tell. We talked, we liked each other, then the sun came up and reality set in as the form of Sharon Carter. It didn't take long for him to ditch me to go for Peggy's niece. Anyways, been there, done that. People change."

"You're not the same girl I met." Tony stated. "On that note, Rogers' old brain is still defrosting and he's getting older so I don't think he knows how stupid he is...yet."

"And I'm not going to wait for him to find out." you muttered, a loud sound coming from the big yard. Looking through the garage window, you saw the blinding light before two figures in different colored capes appeared, the blinding light ruining the fresh-cut grass. Beaming at Tony, you got up. "Want to plan a party with me?"

"You say that like I'd have the ability to say no. Tonight?" Tony replied, grinning at thought of loud electronic dance music and booze.

Getting up, the stilettos clicked on the floor, your perfect pedicure peeking through the hole. Smiling, you walked towards the door. "Well, we are in the presence of two Gods. I think it's only fair we celebrate like it."

"I'm putting Party in the USA on the track-list!"

Rushing to the lawn where the rest of the team gathered, your mood was lightened by the sight of the golden haired retriever in disguised as a jacked God. Ignoring the others, you threw yourself at Thor, the God of Thunder catching you, arms tightening around your body. You let out a breathless laugh, momentarily forgetting your idiotic plan to avoid Steve. "Thor!"

Thor guffawed, lifting you off the ground, shouting your name in glee before letting you breathe again. "My favorite avenger! Miss me?"

"Duh." you responded, glancing at Loki, who had magically changed into an all-black suit, his shoulder length raven-colored hair slicked back. His eyes narrowed slightly at the team who had defeated him. He looked even better in person. "So, that's Loki."

Natasha spoke up before either Asgardian could. She stepped closer, observing him with you. "Not sure. He isn't as smug as before—"

"And he's missing those horrendous reindeer horns he was wearing." Clint chimed in, crossing his arms. His hate for Loki—which had increased when he found out the man who once controlled him was coming to the team—was almost as deep as Steve's. "He looks like a witch in that black suit."

Thor snickered, releasing Loki from the handcuffs that held him. "As you all know, my adopted brother's punishment from Father is to help Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Loki understands all the rules, and he will so follow them accordingly. Isn't that right, brother?"

Loki rolled his eyes, sighing before reluctantly nodding. "Yes, I will."

"Let me make this clear, Loki." Steve stepped up, Sharon right behind him, face composed. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at the couple. "If you break one rule, no matter how small, you will be sent back to Asgard and face Odin's alternate punishment. Just so you're clear, we won't hesitate to send you back."

The God of Mischief smirked, feeling smug knowing he could push the super soldier's buttons. "Of course, Captain. I wouldn't dream of breaking the rules enforced."

Everyone could sense the sarcasm and mockery in his voice, all of them tensing. Thor sighed, clapping his brother on the back, the force making Loki take a steps forward. "Come on, brother. I'll show you your quarters before you get punched by Lady Natasha."

Without waiting for Loki to answer, Thor practically pulled Loki's arm off, pulling him towards the building, crossing the ruined lawn that Tony would bitch about later. Everyone followed them, staying a few feet back, wary of the new team member. You noticed Steve stealing glances at you, quickly moving away from Sharon's side and made his way to you.

Without being too obvious, you squeezed your way between Bruce and Natasha, snaking your arms between there's, hoping it would give Steve the impression not to talk to you. Ever. Natasha threw you a sympathetic smile, squeezing your wrist while Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

Thor continued talking about the new compound, leading his brother to the entrance while pointing out installments that would've seemed impressive to a simple "midgardian."

He might've unconsciously murdered people but he kinda thicc.

At that exact moment, Loki turned around, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. His smirk grew, glancing between you and Steve before turning back. It had been so quick that you weren't sure it even happened. The group scattered as soon as they stepped a foot inside; Bruce heading to the lab, Steve following him while Sharon split and headed up to Medbay, Natasha hitting the gym with Clint, leaving you alone with Thor and Loki.

Unfortunately, Thor's room had been across yours, the empty room next to yours becoming Loki's so both a spy and a god could keep an eye on the trickster. Both Tony and Steve had fought on that, Steve concerned about your safety while Tony argued back, telling him you could keep yourself safe. If not, Thor was there. That had angered you; Steve didn't think you were capable of fighting off Loki if it came to it, and that made you roll your eyes at him, exiting the room.

"...and this will be your quarters. Decorate it any way you want, just no magic." Thor continued, reaching the area of your rooms. It was a big arc, the area looking like a semi-circle with three doors spaced evenly out. "My chambers is across Lady Y/N's, so we won't have any problems. She's a smart one, brother. Anything else to add, Sunshine?"

You ignored the nickname, eyes narrowing at the black-suited man. "There's a party tonight 'celebrating' the addition to the team. It starts at 8 so don't be late or else Tony will have your head. Also, if you wake me up before seven in the morning, watch your back 'cause I hold grudges."

Giving Thor a smile, you head to your room, closing the door with a sigh. On the other side, you heard Loki chuckle once. "I like her."

"She's serious. She almost ripped my heart out the one time I accidentally woke her from her slumber." Thor added, the clap on his brother's back loud. "Get ready for the party, Loki."

Loki had been forced in his room by his brother, the door closing after him. He listened carefully, hearing you plop on your bed. He bit back a smirk, a plan unfolding in his brain. With a swift gesture of a finger, the room had been decorated, the hideous white theme changing into an exact copy of Loki's bedroom in Asgard.

The day went by fast as you wasted it away planning the party with Tony, who had, in no way, helped. You had ran off to your room once the people Tony had hired came, setting up everything in the main room. As you walked to the three-bedroom wing, you saw Steve rocking back and forth in front of your door, his hands in his pocket while Thor gushed about his flying hammer.

Relief washed over his face as soon as he spotted you, and you almost turned around, wishing you had gone to Natasha's room to get ready.

Steve called out your name, abruptly ending his conversation with Thor. As you walked closer, you could see the concern etched on his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Thor watched your reaction, your face fighting the urge to make a face at America's sweetheart. Maneuvering your body, you slid between the two men to get to your room. "I'm fun-fucking-tastic. Thor, remind Loki about the party. I didn't spend the whole day with Tony for Loki to miss his own party."

"I'll be there, darling." Loki chimed in, his head poking out of his bedroom. Everyone turned to look at him, seeing the not-so-subtle wink he gave you.

Ignoring Steve's clenched fists, you moved past them, entering your room. Before closing the door, you said, "Tony requests the presence of all three of you, by the way. There's no way you're getting out of this. See you at 8!"

With a sighed of relief, you closed the door in Steve's face, the loud slam cutting off whatever he was about to interject. He could talk to Sharon about whatever shit he was dealing with, the girl he chose. You were no longer someone he could vent to after the shit he pulled, leading you on before leaving for Sharon Carter. It was then that you came to the decision to not love so easily.

Getting ready for the party took longer than you thought it would, the hot shower burning your skin to the point your skin started to redden. Your mind wandered to Loki, curios about the wink. Maybe it was his way of messing with people, a loophole that had not been included in the agreement. Realizing how inappropriate it was to think about the God while showering, you quickly turned the water off and stepped out.

Knowing Natasha, she's be disappointed if you didn't dress up like your inner slut, the one that got fucked up in Tokyo, and the petty hoe who would do everything to make Steve Rogers regret his decision. Well, you weren't going to let your sestra down.

The sultry, tight red dress was almost too short to be considered decent. With it's low cropped top, your tits we're begging for attention, the bra non-existent. Your new motto: protect the city, free the titties. The matching red stilettos would've been a pain if you hadn't started wearing them so early in your life. You let your hair down, running hand through it before slapping some natural makeup on your face, trying not to look desperate for attention.

It was around 8:15 when you finally finished, already exhausted by the amount of work you had to put on for others, but mostly for yourself. Either Tony or Natasha would come barreling through your door if you were going to be any later. Rushing, you took a quick look in the mirror before opening your door, nearly bumping into the God of Mischief.

He was dressed in a black buttoned-downed dress shirt with matching dress pants. Like before, his hair was slicked back, the shoulder length, raven hair looking silky and sexy. You both eye each other, eyes appreciating the sight in front of them. It wasn't until you finally met his eyes that he cleared his throat, a smug smile covering half his face.

"Would you mind accompanying me to the party, Lady Y/N? My brother is an idiot and cannot give a proper tour with his minuscule organ that he calls a brain. As of that, I do not know where this celebration is held." Loki explained, holding out his arm, waiting for you to take it. He raised an eyebrow while you hesitated. "If not, I could just follow you and everyone would assume I'm planning to have your head."

"Jesus Christ, you and Thor are so fucking dramatic." you grumbled, taking Loki's arm, your arm snaking around his. "Must run in the family, huh?"

"I'm adopted."

"I don't care."

Loki darkly chuckled, feeling your warm body against his, letting himself grow closer, enough that he could feel more of you but not enough that you would've noticed. "I sincerely hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you look rather ravishing, darling."

"Have you ever thought of cutting your hair?" you replied, loving the way Loki's smug expression wavered—probably expecting a compliment—before composing himself. "You'd look less like Johnny Depp from Pirates of the Caribbean."

"I don't understand." Loki said, leading you towards the elevator. For someone who claimed they didn't know where they were headed, he had the sense of knowing where everything was.

You waved the pop culture reference away, pushing the elevator button. "You wouldn't. Is Thor already at the party?"

"I'm quite positive."

The rest of the walk to the main room was quiet, neither of you making small talk as you led him. More like, he led you. You were suspicious he had stayed back and faked not knowing the compound in order to mess with you. But you waved that thought away, focus on getting distracting yourself from Steve.

You could hear the party before seeing it, the big room had been half full, not too much, not too little, yet you had been surprised considering how extra Tony could be. Letting go of Loki's arm, you walked to the bar where Natasha was sipping a glass of whiskey, ignoring the rest of the party. She pulled out a bottle of gin as you arrived, raising an eyebrow at your accompanied date.

"Before you say anything, he didn't know where the party was so he asked me to guide him. Nicely if I might add." you said, pushing back the bottle, settling on a bottle of water instead.

Natasha smirked, watching Loki interact with his brother, a frown deepening on his face. "He knows where everything is, Thor gave him the whole tour while you were with Tony. Can't believe you took the bait."

"Ugh." you grumbled, wishing you could forget about tomorrow and drown your problems in alcohol but the last hangover nearly killed you.

"Stevie doesn't look to happy with you showing up with Loki." Natasha noticed, the smirk widening as she watched Steve's glare grew more lethal as Loki's grin got bigger. "This is so much better than America's Next Top Models fails. Do you wanna bet that one of them will punch the other before the party is over?"

"Daddy, chill." you mimicked, turning to see how enraged old Capsicle is. But with the blonde besides him, looking up him in both wonder and worry, he had no right to be angry at Loki for attending a party that had been thrown for him, despite the many people he murdered—while being controlled. "He can't seriously still be sour about Loki joining."

The redhead giggled, a little drunk from the amount of alcohol she already consumed. "I don't think that's what he's so broody about, not anymore at least. He was smiling until he saw you on Loki's arm."

"Ain't my fault he chose Peggy's niece over me, meaning he doesn't get to be jealous whether Loki is my date or a walker for these killer stilettos." you muttered, secretly loving and hating the jealousy that oozed out of Steve Rogers. Even his blonde date had noticed. "Look at these heels, aren't they gorgeous?"

"Almost as gorgeous as you." Natasha replied, winking just before she drowned the rest of her drink. She winced a little at the taste.

"How many of those have you had?" you wondered, eyeing the spy. After the worst hangover of both your lives, Natasha had made you swear to never let her get that drunk again. Although with the rate she was going, you feared you had been too late.

She shrugged, taking your bottle of water. "Four. Oh, look, here comes Steve."

Before you could ditch, Steve leaned against the counter, his blue buttoned down shirt matching his blue eyes. Natasha not-so-subtly walked to the other side of the bar, motioning for Bruce to keep her company, although knowing her, she'd listen to every word.

"Rogers," you greeted coldly, looking everywhere but him. He tensed at your cold greeting, the frown looking permanently pressed on his face. "Enjoying the party?"

"Yeah."

Lie.

"Good."

You sat there for a good two minutes before he cleared his throat, shifting his weight nervously from one foot onto the other. Steve coughed in his fist. "So...living near Loki isn't too much trouble, is it? He causing any trouble, yet?"

"Sweet as an angel." you replied sarcastically, wishing you were anywhere but here. Loki caught your eye, raising a hand to wave and the group that had been brave enough to be near him, gasped in shock, the noises audible across the room. Their reactions made you chuckle.

Steve cleared his throat, this time louder. "Would you like to dance?"

"Ask your girlfriend." you fired back, satisfied by the hurt on his face. After the stunt he pulled, leading you on only to stomp of your heart, you wanted to be selfish and make him suffer just a little bit. Thankful, Loki came to your rescue.

Ignoring Steve, he held out his arm once again, a smile playing on his lips as he took in the tense situation between you and Steve. But before he could utter a single word, Sharon decided it was the perfect time to come looking for Steve. She assessed the situation, awkwardly noting Loki's presence.

"Er, hello." Sharon said, standing in false bravery. She wouldn't admit it, but she was afraid of the God of Mischief.

Loki gave her a curt nod and held out a hand to you instead, easily fitting yours in his. He murmured your name, softly kissing your knuckles. "Would you like to dance? This is the first song that came on that has not made me want to tear my ears off."

"Why, yes, I would." you agreed with a grin, moving your body close to Loki as you reached the unofficial dance floor, everyone's eyes on the both of you, with shock and slight fear. You would've cackled at their reactions—and it looked like Loki wanted to, too—if you hadn't been raised with manners. "Thank you."

Loki raised an eyebrow, surprised by the words. "For what, if I may ask?"

"Saving me back there. I don't need that kind of drama in my life. Not anymore." you explained, drinking in the warmth of his arm wrapping around your waist as you both slowly swayed to the slow song.

The raven-haired God smiled—not the smug smirk he wore, but a genuine one that Thor hadn't seen his brother wear for a few years now. "My pleasure. A lady like you deserves someone who'll give her his undivided attention. Any suitor would be lucky to have a tenth of your attention."

A coping mechanism: you rolled your eyes but you couldn't help the small smile that forced itself on you lips. You bit it back, hoping no one had noticed.

Loki had. And he meant every word he said.

By the end of the night, you found yourself naked, against the wall and legs wrapped around Loki's waist. Lips crashed against one another, soft kisses trailing down necks, leaving little love marks that would surely be dark. But at the moment, you didn't care. Not when Loki whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he took you from behind, above, underneath, and even on the side. You had both been teasing each other at the party and now you had given in, no matter the consequences.

—

Annoyed Steve had missed the date he had asked you on, you walked up to his room, heels clicking. You had waited for him for over two hours, texted him and getting no replies, leaving the restaurant with the humiliation of being stood up.

But as you neared his door, you heard crying. But it wasn't Steve. Peeking inside, you saw Sharon. Pretty, talented Sharon. Her eyes were red, tears steaming down her cheeks while Steve hugged her shoulders, resting his chin on her head as he comforted her. Jealousy and hurt knocked the breath out of you.

You waited.

And waited.

And it happened. Leaning in slowly, he kissed her. Softly, like he had kissed you. And she kissed him back, finding comfort in the kiss.

Heart breaking in two, you left, leaving the door open. The couple broke their kiss long enough to see you walk away through the slit of the door. Steve hung just head, feeling terrible. But Sharon had helped him as he had. This time, they hadn't stopped at kissing, forgetting the girl who had her heart broken by the man who claimed he would never hurt her.

Steve knew it was over between you two, but he could focus his attention on caring as much as he wanted to when Sharon kept kissing him. He did try to apologize only to learn you had went to visit Thor in Asgard, leaving him to feel sorry for himself and his decisions. Yet, he still found temporary comfort in Sharon's arms.

—

You woke to the warmth of Loki's arms around you. Opening your eyes, you found yourself tangled limbs with the God of Lies, your hair a mess, a hand over his chest and a leg over his waist. Your cheek rested on the crook of his neck, fitting perfectly as if he was made for you.

"Good morning." Loki whispered, stroking your hair with one hand, the other softly massaging your thigh. "Sleep well?"

Nuzzling into his neck, you snorted at the irony. "Don't know, considering we didn't do much sleeping."

Loki chuckled, pressing a soft kiss on your head. "Touché. It would only be fair of me to apologize for the love marks I left on your soft skin last night. Forgive me but I could not help myself."

Gasping, you jumped up, looking at the vanity mirror across your bed to find your collarbone, neck, and the top of your breast covered in Loki's hickeys. He looked rather proud of himself than sorry. "Loki!"

"Please note my apologies are genuine when they are directed towards you. Although, I have to admit, I'm quite proud of myself. It's my best art." Loki announced, bringing himself up on his elbows, eyes ravaging your naked flesh, littered with his marks.

Noticing the difference between your bodies, you quickly turned around to see the reflections had been right; Loki's body remained unmarked. "I swear to god I left hickeys and bite marks all over you last night."

"You tried but got rather mad when my skin healed itself." Loki explained, pulling you back in his warm arms. The soft gesture surprised you, the whole situation coming into light. You had slept with Thor's murderous brother. Loki read your thoughts. "Don't be like that, love. What what I can remember, you enjoyed yourself last night quite immensely. If it will make you feel better, I can show all the love bites you made the night before."

Thankful you hadn't drank anything last night, you had been so happy to not wake up with a hangover and Loki. Turning to face him, you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

With a smirk, his chest gleamed green for a second before it uncovered layers and layers of hickeys, and reddening bite marks. It was identical to yours. You gasped in shocked while Loki stared at you in amusement, his arms tightening. "You did a little bit of damage. I'm proud."

"Holy shit—" you were cut off by Thor and Steve bursting into your room, the sudden motion making you cover up your naked chest with a shriek. The two men's jaws dropped as they took in the scene, Loki's bare chest covered with the evidence from last night, his arms wrapped around you while you stared at them with wide eyes. "Knock, goddamnit!"

Both of them stood in silence, their brains not processing what was in front of them. Steve's eyes had mirrored yours from when you caught him kissing Sharon, eyes watering, you could see his heart breaking just by making eye contact. But at that moment, you couldn't find yourself to care, not with Loki's arms around you.

"What—" Thor began.

Loki smirked, kissing your bare shoulder. "Hello, brother."

next >

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #loki #loki x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x sharon carter #marvel #captain america #angst #jealousy #chris evans x reader

[fanficsandfluff]

The Wake-Up

Finally, I've crossed a fic idea off my daydream checklist! Enjoy!

Fandom: MCU, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, some Cass and AJ, a smidge of Sarah

Words: 2,010

Bucky hadn’t felt as well-rested as he had on Sarah’s couch, even despite being woken by her two boys. So, yes, maybe he did keep accepting offers to stay over. It helped his mental well-being, so what? He sought the rest and relaxation. Sam hadn’t even been there a few times, but it was still as welcome as ever. Sarah cooked great food. He brought her flowers the last time he slept over, and he loved the bright smile that sprung to her face.

“We need to clear a guest room all for you,” Sarah joked at the dinner table on one particular summer night.

“You can take Uncle Sam’s room when he’s not here!” Cass announced through a mouthful of grits.

Bucky grinned at all the jests and he knuckled Cass’s shoulder, “Oh, I’m sure Uncle Sam wouldn’t mind at all,” he always smiled whenever he heard ‘Uncle Sam’ being used to address the new Captain America. Brought a lot of nostalgia back, and even turned it into something positive.

But on the couch he remained, at least for the upcoming night.

Sam pulled up at 3 am, the whole house asleep. He had to get used to seeing Bucky on Sarah’s couch, but it was finally starting to become less surprising. As long as he was on the couch and not in Sarah’s bed, all things were fine by him. Sam tiptoed in after shedding his boots at the door, easing into the comfort brought to him just by being in the house. He adjusted the blanket by Bucky’s feet and pulled another corner over his bare arm, non-metal.

Sam smirked to himself. He always assumed Bucky possessed superhuman senses, so someone who decided to even step too close while he slept would be pulverized immediately. But no. The guy needed the sleep, he supposed. Bucky’s breathing pattern didn’t even change when Sam adjusted the blanket. Hmm… he could use this.

~~~

“Shhh, shhshh, hey guys,” Sam kissed his nephews on their foreheads when he woke them purposely later that morning. Dawn was just creeping over the bayou, shimmering the lights on the water.

“Wait, shh, you gotta stay quiet or you’ll ruin it,” Sam had his hand atop AJ’s head and he ruffled it around, making the older boy giggle.

“Ruin what?” Cass whispered.

“We’re gonna wake Bucky. The guy’s just always sleeping, isn’t he?”

Both boys shared identical grins, “Yeah, totally!” AJ slipped his glasses onto his face, Cass following suit.

And so the plot begun. Sam went to the bathroom with his nephews and gathered shaving cream after Cass had pulled a feather from his animal project from school. Sam explained what they’d be doing with these tools, since they’d never pulled this prank before (wow, Sam felt old).

AJ and Cass were practically vibrating with anticipation and giddiness. The trio snuck their way to the couch. Sam sprayed the shaving cream on Bucky’s metal hand since he knew how to not make the spray noise come out so loudly (and his human arm was tucked behind him on the couch so he couldn’t get to that one, okay? He didn’t go for the metal on purpose, he isn’t that cruel).

Sam pointed to Cass first as the three of them stood by Bucky’s head, hiding behind that edge of the couch, crouching. Cass stood and swiped the feather across Bucky’s forehead. No reaction. He gave it to AJ. AJ, more methodical, wiggled the feathered tip on the bridge of Bucky’s nose. Now he got his nose to scrunch, brow to furrow, but his arms stayed put. Sam next. He got the feather to move closer to Bucky’s nostrils.

“So close…” Cass whispered in the smallest voice, hands covering his mouth. AJ also put his own hand over Cass’s hands covering his mouth because of the comment.

Sam kept it up, even swiping around Bucky’s cheeks, when-- WHAM!

The boys both exclaimed, Cass jumping up and down excitedly while giggling. Sam laughed loudly, holding his stomach. The noise was a loud metal clang when metal arm connected with skull. It was hilarious.

Bucky shot up with a start, feeling his eyes covered in some kind of gook, and he practically gave himself a headache. He heard all the laughter and he sighed deeply.

“Gross…” he grumbled and wiped his eyes, not realizing his hand was the cause. He ended up smearing more shaving cream across his eyes.

“You got a little something…” Sam spoke, holding back more laughs. Anything to mess with Bucky was the highlight of Sam’s day.

Bucky got enough shaving cream off his face and wiped onto his pants to see again. He eyed the boys first, knowing he could scare them off quicker. He growled.

“Go go go!” AJ directed his younger brother, ushering him back towards the bedrooms, the two shoving each other and tripping over each other along the way.

Bucky’s eyes went to Sam immediately after.

Sam had to think quick. Run from a super soldier and inevitably get caught, or wake Sarah because there’s no way Bucky would do anything to him if Sarah was--- yeah, nope, not willing to face Sarah’s wrath either. Sam bolted out the front door, hearing the screen door clatter behind him. Not two seconds later he heard it clatter again, meaning Bucky was hot on his trail.

Sam ran through the yard, weaving between trees, feeling the dewy grass get kicked up under his bare feet.

Bucky threw himself at Sam when he had the shot and they both propelled forward, rolling in the grass for a few feet.

“Ow! Shit, Buck!” Sam exclaimed, groaning, feigning more pain than he was actually in.

Bucky was atop Sam, not falling for the act for a second. It took Sam a moment to look up and he burst out another laugh, unable to help himself. Bucky still had a white-painted face full of shaving cream, just now looking more smeared than goopy.

“You know you’re so dead and you’re still laughing? Where’d you get the balls…” Bucky tried to sound menacing, he really did.

“Nahah, no, you--” he cleared his throat, buying time so he could formulate a way out from under the Winter Soldier, “It’s good for your skin. Moisturizing. You look good.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes and his metal hand snapped to Sam’s when he tried to move, wrenching it up above his head. Sam was pinned. Now was the time he was getting nervous.

“It was all AJ and Cass, I just thought you should know.”

“Mmhm,” Bucky, man of few words, looked up and down Sam’s torso. He had him pinned. Now what to do. Bucky poked at Sam’s protruding rib. He did it again to the few above that one, making a little path of pokes.

Sam shifted under him, uncomfortable. His face looked much less jovial now. Annoyed. Good.

“Oh Sam, buddy, you never told me you were ticklish,” he drawled.

“I’m not--I mean, just stop. I’m sorry,” Sam apologized.

Bucky’s eyebrow actually raised. That was the whole fun of the game. Coaxing the apology. But of course Sam went and ruined that. Nice guy.

“For what?” Nice recovery, Barnes.

“For waking you up.”

Bucky allowed himself to quirk the corners of his lips, “Gotta be more specific than that,” and his one hand dug into the ribs on Sam’s right side. His fingers groped for the spaces in between and massaged his way in. Sam bucked and laughter was torn from his chest.

Sam was ticklish and only Sarah knew. Of course she knew, being the older sister. But dammit, he was never planning on Bucky Barnes figuring it out. And this was exactly why! The guy would be devastating!

“No! NohohoHO BUCKY!” Sam twisted side to side since that’s all the mobility he was allowed.

“What else are you sorry for? Here, I’ll give you the list,” as Bucky spoke, he had to raise his voice over Sam’s desperate giggles, hand switching to clawing at the other’s belly, “You woke me up with a prank. So there’s that. You lied and blamed AJ and Cass for something you 100% planned. You ran from the scene of the crime. Am I missing anything, Wilson?”

“Screhehehew you!” Sam got out before laughing louder as Bucky’s hand scratched at his armpit, “Stop! Stoppit, you fuhucking cyborg!”

“Oho! I’ll add that! Aaand, oh, and you lied to me about you not being ticklish. You said ‘I’m not,’” Bucky imitated Sam in a very stupid voice, “when clearly you are. Very. Very ticklish.”

Sam was pulling on his arms as much as he could without injuring himself. His veins popped, muscles straining. He was useless like this. Defenseless.

But he was laughing.

That was kind of nice.

Bucky contemplated letting go and allowing Sam to squirm. He liked having him at his mercy like this, though. Made him feel powerful… Hm.

Bucky kept Sam pinned with his vibranium appendage, and he wiped as much of the remaining shaving cream off his face as he could with his right hand.

Sam coughed as he sucked the humid morning air into his lungs. By now he didn’t know if the moistness he felt all along his back was from the dewy grass or from his own sweat.

“No, man, dohon’t,” he saw the absolute mischief painted on Bucky’s gleeful face and his raised shaving cream hand. Bucky planted his palm on the side of Sam’s face, chuckling to himself after the act.

“Aw, you-- you’re real gross, Barnes, you know that?” Sam spit out the imaginary shaving cream that got in his mouth.

“I think I’m just being fair,” Bucky pushed up Sam’s sleep shirt with his free elbow and he started tracing patterns with shaving cream along Sam’s belly. That got Cap giggling all over again.

“Buhuhucky, noho!”

“Keep giggling, Sam, it’s only gonna make me want to keep this up.”

Sam would swear up and down that that particular comment didn’t make him blush, but oh boy he felt his cheeks get warmer.

“I don’t g-gihiggle, asshole!”

“Oh, no?” Bucky switched to scratching at Sam’s taught tummy, the shaving cream making the experience extra slippery, causing Sam’s laughter to jump in pitch.

“I”m sorry!” Sam squeaked out before Bucky could even change tactics again.

Bucky chortled, “For…?”

“Everything! Eheverything you sahahaid!”

“Aww,” Bucky smiled. He pulled his metal arm back and just sat on Sam’s waist, still basking in the glow of winning like this.

Bucky leaned his head down closer to Sam’s, “I forgive you,” he said curtly. He watched the last few huffs and breaths of light laughs leave Sam’s lips. He could get headbutted being this close to Sam’s own face. Or kissed. Wait--

Bucky climbed off of Sam, sitting beside him in the grass. He pulled up the bottom of his shirt and wiped the shaving cream fully off his face.

Sam jabbed Bucky’s abs when the shirt came up and the Winter Soldier twitched.

Sam smiled wide. Bucky, eyes squinted at first, soon relaxed his face and allowed himself to smile back.

“Don’t do that again,” Bucky pointed a vibranium finger at Sam.

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“You made Cass and AJ very happy.”

“Yeah, well…. They don’t need to prank me to be happy.”

“Yeah they did. Being mischievous. It’s all part of being little kids,” Sam sat up, head tilted Bucky’s way.

“Still.”

“Okay, I was trying to be thankful, jerk. Thanks for handling it like a good sport.”

Bucky looked over at Sam and he held his gaze for a few seconds. Did Sam like what just happened? Or was that just praise for him for not ripping Sam’s nephews limb from limb? Restraint?

“Oof, that brain malfunctions a whole lot, doesn’t it?” Sam was right back to teasing, “Code red!”

Bucky chuckled, head bowed. Sam, proud as ever to get that smile from the Winter Soldier, nudged him.

“You’re so stupid,” was all Bucky could think of saying. Sam laughed.

#the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #tfatws fanfiction #tfatws fanfic #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sam and bucky #the falcon #the winter soldier #winter soldier #sam wilson and bucky barnes #tickle fic #tickling #tickle fight #pranks #fluff #funny #domestic #ticklish!sam #ticklish!samwilson #ler!bucky #lee!sam #lee!samwilson #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #mcu tfatws

[ejlovespie]

I know You

(Part 2 of 2)

Fandom: Supernatural - Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: The reader was attacked and stabbed by a shapeshifter disguised as the man she loves. Will she be able to face her trauma and finally tell him how she feels? Read Part 1. 

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1726

Warnings: Graphic Violence/Near Death/Fear/Angst/Insecurity/Suicidal thoughts and descriptions/Eventual Fluff

***Part 1 has GRAPHIC details of being stabbed and assaulted. Do NOT read if violence and descriptions of assault (sexual comments and being thrown onto a bed) are a trigger for you. Part 2 has suicidal thoughts and descriptions. Please do NOT read if suicide is a trigger for you. ***

Reader’s Request: Can you pleaaase write a dean x reader angst+fluff+near death one shot where they have feelings for each other but they're too insecure to say anything about it, and then one day the reader is in a motel room alone waiting for dean and Sam to come back from somewhere, and suddenly shapeshifter dean comes in and stabs her multiple times and leaves her bleeding on the floor until real Dean and Sam come back.

A/N: Thank you for the request Anon!! This one was tough to write but I really hope you enjoy it. I am SO SORRY it took so long. Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :) 

You were used to Dean Winchester being a constant in your dreams. That was what happened when you were in love with someone. You used to eagerly await sleep and the gift your mind would give you at night. Dreaming of Dean had been the only form of intimacy you were allowed...Until now. You still dreamt of him but your dreams had turned into nightmares. Images of being thrown on the bed, those dark, hate filled eyes staring into you, a knife plugging into your body. Every night you woke up screaming in terror. Sam would run to your room and turn on the lights before hugging and comforting you but his kindness had made you feel worse. The truth was you hated yourself. Dean was gone because of you, apart from his brother because of you.    

It had been two months since the attack. You spent four weeks in the hospital before being discharged and given a hundred pamphlets on trauma. Dean had come by a few times but stopped trying when you would see him and immediately have a major panic attack. Eventually, he left and never came back. Sam had told you he was hunting the shifter and giving you space to heal and that had made you feel worse. Knowing you pushed him away made your chest ache. You LOVED Dean Winchester and your heart broke knowing he had found you and rushed you to the hospital. He had saved your life and stayed by your side every day and you repaid him by losing your shit whenever he walked in the room. Logically you knew what happened wasn’t Dean’s fault. You KNEW He didn’t do anything wrong but your reaction to seeing him was always the same. You didn’t see the man you loved when you looked into his eyes, only the nightmare you had lived through. 

You and Sam had been staying at Bobby’s for the last month and every time you glanced at the single framed photo of the boys on the desk you broke out into a sweat. Eventually, the photo had disappeared and you hated the relief you had felt. There were days you were so miserable and you hated yourself so much that you wondered why you had survived the attack in the first place. You would have been better off dead. At first you tried to read through the information from the hospital’s psychiatrist but you ended up throwing all the pamphlets away. You had taken her advice and tried going out and for a walk but anxiety had forced you back inside, tears streaming down your face. Sam would try to talk to you, had even tried getting you out of the house to hit the library with him but you couldn’t do it. Every day, the grief you felt grew until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

Waking up from yet another night terror, you grabbed the knife you had been hiding in your bedside table. Pulling it out, you stared at the blade for a long time while silent tears ran down your face. You clutched the knife in your hands and let yourself feel all of the pain, all of the grief and self-hatred you had been carrying. It washed over you until numbness took its place. You couldn’t live like this. You thought about Sam and Bobby and all of the people you had helped over the years. Would they forgive you? You thought about Dean, the man you loved; the man you missed more than anything and fought against the fear you now associated with him. Suddenly, a memory flooded your thoughts.

You were driving down a long country road in the Impala. Dean was driving and blaring one of his tapes, singing along to it like he didn’t have a care in the world. You were surrounded by green fields and you smiled at the cows and horses grazing lazily. Your hair whipped around your face and you smiled when you breathed in deeply. You smelled the grass and wet pavement outside but even more strongly you could smell Dean’s cologne and the familiar leather and gasoline smell of the car. It was your favorite smell in the world. You looked at Dean when he turned the music down. With his familiar grin he asked, “What are you smiling about?” 

You looked at him then, into his gorgeous green eyes, and you studied his face. His full lips and perfect smile, straight nose, and strong jaw. He was so handsome and his focused gaze made you blush. That was the moment you realized you had fallen in love with the older Winchester. It washed over you, a feeling of pure happiness and comfort. Dean was smiling at you and he poked you in the side before asking, “C’mon Y/N. What are you so happy about?”   

Turning away from him, you swatted his hand away playfully. “Keep your eyes on the road Winchester. I don’t feel like dying today.”

Chuckling, Dean complied, placing his hand back on the wheel and looking back at the open road. He continued, “You look happy is all..you’re smiling bigger than I have seen before. So, what’s up?”  

I love you, you thought to yourself. Instead of answering him you asked a question of your own. “Why are you so happy? I know you and you aren’t this happy unless you’re eating pie.” Laughing again, Dean shrugged before turning the music up and singing along loudly with the song. You laughed too and started to sing along with him, content and happy living in the moment.      

The memory faded. Looking down at the knife in your arms, you threw it on the ground and forced yourself to settle your breathing. ‘I know you.’ You said it out loud to yourself and forced yourself to think about your Dean. His smile. His laugh. His eyes. ‘I know you.’ Him singing along to the music in his car. ‘I know you.’ Him hugging you to him whenever one of you was sad. ‘I know you.’ Him fixing up his beloved car at Bobby’s. ‘I know you.’ The two of you drinking together and his goofy grin as he teased you about the faces you made. ‘I know you.’ His fierce love and protectiveness for his family. ‘I know you.’ All of the memories had your eyes welling up again and you quickly got up and slid out the front door so you didn’t wake Sam or Bobby. Running down the drive, you collapsed in the garage and began to sob. When your tears finally began to run out you gasped out the truth you had never said out loud before.

“I am so fucking sorry Dean..I love you so fucking much and I..I miss you..I..I can’t do this without you because my life isn’t worth living without you in it. You’re my best friend and loving you has made me stronger. It has made me feel truly alive and I..I am so sorry...I know you. I fucking know you and I know that thing wasn’t you! Please come back.”

You jumped at a sound behind you and whipped your head around to see Dean. He stood a few yards away with unshed tears in his eyes. Relief filled you when you realized you didn’t feel panic rising up inside you. For the first time in two months you were only seeing your Dean. A smile spread across your face before falling. “..You heard what I said, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question. You could tell by the look on his face he had. Dean slowly walked toward you, pausing a few feet away and crouching down. “I love you too, Y/N. I..I didn’t know it until I almost lost you but I do. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me..You made me feel again and if you had died, you would have taken a piece of me with you.” 

Gasping, you flung yourself to him and let Dean wrap his arms around you. You buried your face in his chest and clung to him, inhaling his cologne. You felt his hands on your back, rubbing small, calming circles. With a watery smile, you reached up and fingered the pendant on his necklace. It brought you instant comfort and you repeated your new mantra silently in your head. ‘I know you.’ This was your Dean. You would always know the difference. You both stayed like that for a long time, embracing each other. Neither of you even noticed when Sam walked up, looking for Y/N, and then backing away as to not ruin the moment. Eventually, you pulled apart and just looked at each other. Tentatively, Dean placed a hand on your cheek, pausing to study your face for approval. You nodded and he rubbed his thumb over your skin. 

His eyes were so soft and he was looking at you with so much love and tenderness it made you self conscious for the first time in months. Glancing away in embarrassment you wished you were wearing something other than a baggy, stained shirt and sweatpants. You knew how you looked and were all too conscious of the fact that you were an absolute mess. Thinking about your puffy red eyes and matted hair had you cringing. How could this gorgeous man love you in the same way you loved him. You were so far out of his league. Dean’s fingers gently lifted your chin to look up at him before brushing some hair out of your face. “Please don’t hide from me, beautiful. I have missed you so much. I know it's going to take some time but I want you to know I found the son of a bitch. He’s dead..And I promise I will NEVER let anyone touch you again. I will keep you safe. I hope that helps..” 

Not sure what to say you just nodded and hugged him again. You would analyze that information and how you felt about it later. For now, you were going to let yourself be held by the man you loved, a man who apparently loved you back, and be grateful for the fact that you were alive and finally together.

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#dean winchester #dean #Sam Winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean angst #dean fluff #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fanfiction #spn angst #spn fluff

[winter-fox-queen]

We All Deserve a Fairy Tale Chapter 5

Warnings:  Here be smut, my loves.  Minors be gone, because it is explicit.  First time writing smut, so I hope it works.

Frankie x female blank slate, use of first person.  I think there is cursing.

Frankie ghosts you, then something happens to change it…

Thanks to @sharkbait77​ and @hnt-escape​  If you want on my tag list, tell me.  :)

I waited a week.  A week and a half.  And I broke down, finally, and texted.

Got the edits back for my next book.  I hate this part.

After a moment, a reply.  You got this.

Hope?  Maybe?  Or was he just being nice?

I responded anyway.  

Maybe we can go out and see that movie tonight?  Have dinner?  A little fun before I chain myself to the computer?

No response.

I waited a day, but my stomach churned the whole time.

I texted again, after getting myself good and wound up.  You don’t owe me any explanations.  But please respect me enough not to ghost me.  You’re not interested in me, that’s fine.  But don’t leave me dangling.  You’re better than that.

I hit send, regretted it immediately.

Your right.  What’s your address?

“Shit.  Shit.  What have I done?”  I whispered as I typed it to him.  

About five away.  K?

Yeah.  Thanks.

I ran back inside the house and straightened myself up.  Military minutes must be shorter than civilian minutes because I heard him pull up sooner than I was ready.

I went outside, to the back yard.  I waved at him, half heartedly.  He shoved his hands in his pockets and came over.

“Hey.”  He gave me a soft smile.  Everything about him was guarded.  OK.  Well, I asked him to come over and officially tell me to take a hike, so, I guess I deserved it.

“Frankie, I…”

“No.  I, uh.”  He looked at the ground between our feet.  It was more dirt than grass.  “Man, you weren’t kidding about this place being a wasteland.”  

I laughed despite the rock in my gut.

He looked up at me, a little sideways.  “Let me say my piece and go, OK?”

I hugged myself, and nodded.

“I like you.”  He said so quietly that I had to lean closer to hear him.  “Like you more than I’ve liked anyone for a long time.  And I mean that.  But wanting you in my life doesn’t mean I get to.  I’ve killed — “

I started to object, say something about the army and of course he did and he did what he had to…

He saw it and said, firmly, “No.”

I closed my mouth and he nodded.  “No.  I’m talking about…less than a year ago.  Some friends and I went on a mission.  We said it was to help stop a major drug dealer but it was just…”  He’s breathing a little heavier, now.  Unable to look at me, rubbing the palms of his hands on his thighs.  

“People died.”  He looks at me, then, the anguish in his eyes, the guilt.  “My own fucking actions lead to one of my best friends getting killed.  If I hadn’t taken that shot.  If I hadn’t wrecked the fucking chopper…”  

He steps forward and takes my hands in his.  They’re clammy, shaking.  “The mail you saw, it was a reminder.  My friend’s widow, she’s angry and looking for answers and she doesn’t want any of us to be happy.  And she’s right.”  

I try to find words.  I feel like I’m in a cave in, trying to scramble over rocks and debris.  

“I don’t deserve to be happy, and I don’t deserve you.”  He touches my cheek for a second, a butterfly landing and running away.  “I’m gonna go now, I’m gonna block your number.”

He kisses me.  His lips are hot.  When he steps back, I say, “So you’re not going to give me a choice?”

“Why would you want one?”  His voice is incredulous.  There’s an echo, under his words, I can see it in his eyes, in the frustrated way he throws his hands out.  Why would you want me?

I shook my head.  “You say you like me, but you want to close yourself off?  Not give me a chance to get to know you, help you if I can?”

“It’s for the best.  You see that, right?”  There’s a desperate edge.  

I shake my head.  Everything that can possibly hurt does.  I’m supposed to be so good at words, and I can’t find the right ones, the ones to reel him back in.  

He adjusts his hat.  “No, you don’t.  I love your books, but they are fairy tales.  You can’t make a good man out of a monster.  It’s not how the world works.”

“You’re not a monster.”  

He’s all twitchiness now, looking at his truck, desperate to get out of this situation.  It makes me mad, how badly he wants to go.  How I know I can’t fix this.  “Don’t bother blocking my number.”  I say, as I turn on my heel.  “I won’t bother you again.”

He whispers my name and it is so pained that I almost turn around.  But I don’t.

***

I don’t block his number.  I can’t.  I focus on work.  My job that lets me eat work.  My book.   My hands shake on the keyboard, sometimes, as I try to make the story mine again.  It’s hard to write a love story, even one with murder and mystery, when your own heart is broken.

It was ridiculous.  I didn’t even know him that long,  but the loss of him hurt.  It made the story feel pointless.  What right did I have to sell these lies?  To make people believe in love and romance and happily ever after when you can meet someone so amazing and wonderful, and have to watch him walk away?

I kept working.  I’d get over it.  I had to.  It’s not like I’d built anything with him.  I was just aching for the possibilities — the things I tortured myself about.  The things I imagined I m might have lost, with Frankie.

And damn it, I missed him.

But life continues.  And sink faucets wear out, making you have to run to the local home improvement store, wandering the isles with an armload of new faucet, fittings, plumbers tape and everything else the YouTube videos I’d consulted said I would need.

The universe has decided that I have not suffered enough, because I can see him, Frankie Morales in the flesh, frowning at the back of a box like its his greatest enemy.  He was in the home security section.  

I could sneak by.  He was way too interested in what he was holding in those lovely, large hands of his.  I dashed by, head down, determined to just get past him, but some lady with a cart pushed past me at the same time, and my arm load of stuff got jostled.  I was able to save the most expensive bit — the faucet in its box, the long flexible connection thingies — but the plumbers tape, in its plastic hard shell donut jumped out, fell onto the floor, and rolled right over to a well worn work boot.  Spun like a top.  Settled right against his toe.  I looked up, too nervous to enjoy the view (much) and right into his eyes.  His lips were parted, like he was a little surprised to see me.  

“Hey.”  I said, and then, because I didn’t  know what else to do, I turned and fled back the way I came.  I knew where the plumbers tape was, I could just go get another…

“Hey.  Wait a second.”  

I stopped, took a breath, smiled like everything was perfectly normal.

He held up the white plastic Judas.  “Um…your faucet break?”  And then he winced.  “I mean, obviously.  Um.”  He placed the tape on top of my pile delicately.  He was holding a box in both hands tight enough to warp the cardboard.

“It’s old.  I thought I would try my hand at replacing it…can’t be that hard.”

“No, but plumbing can be really picky if you’ve never done it…”

“Don’t offer.”  I whisper it desperately, before I can even think about it.  I can tell he’s working himself up to it, and the thought of him in my house is like a punch ion the guts.

“It wouldn’t be a problem.”  His dark eyes study my face.  Sad.  A little desperate.  For a second I think, maybe he misses me, too.

“No.  I got it.”  I say softly, looking at the floor again.

“Do you still have my number?  If you change your mind?”

I nod at the container.  “Go back to your project, Frankie.  I can handle this on my own.”

Did you know, plumbing is an utter bitch?

Throw in some more curse words in the last sentence.  I certainly used every one I could.  

Two hours later, I get a text.  

Frankie:  How did it go?  

I want to sob.  Instead, I put myself together and write a fairly moderate response:

Me:  I have decided that I will now do my dishes in the bathroom sink.  Who needs a sink in the kitchen?  A total waste.  

Frankie:  The offer is still open?

Me:  How did you know?  Did you just look at me and think, she is too inept to be able to do this herself?

Frankie:  No.  I don’t think that at all.

Frankie:  Let me help?  Please?

Me:  Since you said please, I guess I can allow you to come rescue me.  

Frankie:  OMW.  

I looked at the time, and decided to order pizza.  It was only fair.

Twenty minutes later he’s under the sink.  “You did a good job.  I think maybe you just cross threaded it…”

“Oh, no…did I ruin the threads?”

“It’s probably OK.  I’ll just use a lot of tape…”

And he does some magical things with a wrench and the bright pink tape, which he wraps around the threads to make them more water tight.  I try not to admire his long legs or the rest of him, spread out on my kitchen floor, as he half lays in the bottom of the sink.

The doorbell rings, and I go pay for the pizza, and when I come back he’s turned on the water, and he’s kneeing in front of the open sink bottom, using a paper towel to see if he can find any leaks.

“It looks OK?”  I ask tentatively.

“Yep…you really did have it done mostly.  Just that one spot.”

“Thanks,” I say awkwardly.  “I bought us dinner?”

“You are awesome.”  He does a quick but of clean up so he can shut the sink doors and washes his hands in the newly repaired sink.  He tosses his hat onto the end of the island, and I want to run my fingers through his hair.  He does it for me, absentmindedly pushing the hair off his forehead.  

We sit on either side of my kitchen island, sharing pizza.  I don’t know what to say.  

“It’s a nice apartment.”  He said quietly, picking up another slice.

“It’s cheap, not far from my day job.  It works.”  I shove a hunk of crust in my mouth to stop myself from saying anything else.  I knew this would be bad.  Here he is, sitting a few  inches away.  I could touch him, but I’m not allowed.  It’s a rotten feeling, wanting something and not being allowed to have it.  To feel his fingers wrap around mine.  To have that easy, happy camaraderie again.

“What are you thinking?”  I ask, when the silence gets too much.

He shakes his head.  Wads up his napkin.  Puts his plate in the sink.  Locates the trash.  Such a good guest.  

“I shouldn’t have come.  But I wanted to see you.”  He said this quietly, as if he isn’t sure he should admit it.  

“Well, if you hadn’t, I’d still be under the sink wondering why the damned fittings are still leaking.”

He gives me a gentle smile.  “You would have been ok.”  

“Lucky I didn’t block your number, huh?”

He smiles and kneels down, picking up tools and putting them back in the box.  Sorting his from mine.

“It was nice of you to come help me?  I might be a bit snarky, but I really am grateful for the help.”

“I was happy to.  Where do you keep these?”  I took my tools off him, put them and the plumber’s tape in my tool drawer.  

“But why?  Why were you happy to help?  Why did you want to see me?  You couldn’t leave here quickly enough the other day…” I smile to take the sting out.  “Not that I blame you, the yard is a hot mess.”

He touches my face gently.  “Hush.”  I stop my babbling, lean into his touch.  

“You asked me a question, awhile back.”  I muzzle his hand.  “I never got to answer it.”

“What was that?”  

“You asked me if I wanted you.  And I do.  Very much.”

He made a huffing sound, as if he had been gut punched, and then, slowly, slowly, leaned in and kissed me.  “I miss you,”. He whispers between kisses, his hands framing my face like I’m a delicate thing.  “I miss you when I wake up.  I miss you when I lay down to sleep.  I miss you when I’m driving.”  And each sentence he punctuates, gently, with a kiss, to my forehead, to my nose, to my mouth.  “I barely know you, but you are already woven into my thoughts…”

I’m holding him tight, kissing him back.  I bump my nose against his, sweetly, and I saw, “Then why?  Why stay away?”

He pulls back as far as I’ll let him, sits down again.  I see the ghosts in his eyes again, and I remember the lyrics from a song I used to love, “There’s ghosts in your eyes, they cry when you smile…”

“I shouldn’t have come…I’m a train wreck waiting to happen.”

“No, not if you’re just going to push me away again.  That’s cruel.  I never thought you’d be cruel, Francisco Morales.”

He winces like I punched him.  

“If it’s too soon to tell me, that’s fine.  Just push it aside until you trust me.  Or until it matters.  I don’t care about your past, what you’ve done.  I know you well enough to know you did what you had to do at the time.”  I give in to the longing to touch him, I run my fingers lightly through the curls at his temple before letting my hand drop.  He’s watching me like a landmine he’s stepped on.  His fingers ghost over my hips.  Grip them gently.  Pulls me between his thighs.  Now it’s my turn to be wary, as he pulls me close.  His dark, liquid eyes study my face, I can almost hear him weighing and sorting.  Lay your secrets on me, beautiful man.  I want to tell him.  But I wait.  I wait until his large hands encompass me, run over my waist, the softness over my ribs, glide up the sides of my breasts so softly I am not even sure he touched me, to cup my face.

 “I want to be who you think I am,” he says, and I smile gently.

A decision is made, in those fathomless eyes.  And he leans close, and he kisses me again.  The last kisses were loving.  This kiss is passionate.  Deep. So full of longing I could cry.  I let my lips part and his tongue traces, licks inside.  I make a little sound and grab his wrists, pushing them aside so I can wrap my arms around him, if I could meld myself to him, I would have then, melted inside of him like gold, fixing his cracks.

He stands, the stool scraping against the floor.  The sound is jarring, lifts me out of the lust sodden moment.  “If you want me, baby, you have me,” he says in that rough honey voice of him.  “Show me the way.”  

I take one of his hands in both of mine, I kiss each knuckle.  I’d been playing with the idea, and now here I was.  I could still say no.  I could slow things down, I could be sensible.  

But I’d never wanted anything so deeply, so profoundly, as I wanted him.  Every time I touched his skin, I felt like something lost had been returned to me.

I smiled a little at him, and backed away, pulling him with me.  “This way, sweetheart.”

His lips are on mine the second we cross into my bedroom.  Once Frankie Morales makes a decision, he is all in.  His hand cups the back of my head, holding me so he can kiss me, his tounge sliding against mine as his other hand slips under my shirt.  I pull back and tug at his shirt.  “Off.”  I command, and he grins and sheds it.   My shirt and my bra join it on the floor.  I press my breasts to the warm smoothness of his chest.  I run my hands over his ribs, his stomach, as his mouth claims mine again.  His skin is soft and warm, strong muscles flexing under my hands.  I kiss along his jawline, I lick and kiss the constellation of freckles on the side of his neck.  He moans softly in approval as I nip and kiss my way to his shoulder.

His own hands slip up to my breasts, weighing them in his hands, squeezing gently. He runs his thumb over one nipple, then bends to lick the other into his mouth, sucking gently, his tounge flicking at the hard peak.  His freehand is splayed against the small of my back, holding me in place.  Pleasure shoots through me, and all I can do is cling to him.  He lets me go and pushes me gently.  I fall back onto my bed, tearing at the button on my pants, needing to get everything off, needing to feel his skin, his warmth, his strength and softness.

“Condoms?”  He asks, one knee on the bed.  “I didn’t think…”

I shook my head.  “I’m on the pill?”

His eyes darken further, and he asks, “Are you sure?”

I nod and hold out my arms, and he gives me the sweetest smile.  He stands up again and undoes his pants, sliding them off, and he’s naked and beautiful and I just want him wrapped around me.  He slips into my arms and kisses me again, his arms holding him over me.  He gives me a little of his weight, grounding me.  It feels so good, skin sliding against skin, warmth against warmth,

His slips a hand between us, and I clench at the thought of him touching me just as he slides two thick fingers between my folds, rubbing my clit gently, exploring me.  “So wet.”  He whispers, kissing my temple.  “So soft.”  He kisses the tip of my nose.  “So hot.”  And his takes my lips again, his fingers rubbing my clit, making me shake with building pleasure.  “I want to taste you, sweetheart.  I want to make you come on my tounge…can I, baby?”

I nod.  I don’t know who can resist that voice, rough with lust and promise?  He kisses his way down and I spread my legs wider, and he gently licks — a test lick, from my entrance to my clit.  He licks my clit, hard, with short licks before drawing me into his mouth and sucking me.  He is fervent, as he works, and I can’t think about anything but the heat of his mouth.  As the pressure and pleasure builds, I’m making the most needy sounds, unable to control myself.  His slips one finger in, then a second, exploring, touching, then another, stretching and reaching for that spot.  The rippling explosion leaves me shamelessly arching into his mouth, crying out his name like a prayer.  

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, kissing the inside of my thigh, rubbing his beard against the soft skin.  

He comes up to kneel between by thighs.  His eyes meet mine as I struggle to compose myself, and his hand gently comes up to very gently lay across my throat, his thumb tracing my chin.  

“Are you sure?  Where do you want me to come?”

I nod frantically. “Please, baby, I want you.  Inside me, please…”

His hand slips away from my throat to rest on the bed above my shoulder, and I miss the warmth of it as he gently strokes my skin, settling his hand on my thigh.  He takes his cock into his hand, stroking it before rubbing it against my clit, causing me to whimper.  He runs the head of it up and down a few times, his eyes slipped closed, his jaw going slack, that lush lower lip parting.  I wish I had a picture…he was beautiful.  Skin made gold by the fading light, thighs splayed under mine.  I felt the head of his cock in my entrance, and he pressed in, a slow hot stretch until he was sheathed completely.  

“Oh, fuck.”   He whispered.  “You feel so good.  So fucking good.”

He lowered himself back on top of me.  “You feel so huge inside me, baby,” I whisper in his ear.    “You feel like heaven.  Please…fuck me, honey.  Please…” And he started moving, slow at first, the changing the angle and speeding up.  With every thrust he pressed against something that felt so good…I was seeing the proverbial stars as he gasped in my ear, making soft sounds of pleasure every time he slammed home.  I nipped at his shoulder, and he was looking down at me, dark eyes studying me.  

“Frankie, I…I can’t think, I don’t know what to do…”  

“Don’t think.  Just let me take care of you.  It’s all I want to do…”  He captures my mouth in a sloppy kiss.  “Just let go.”

And I do.  I cry out his name as he continues to move, the friction making my high last.  He speeds up, and I cup his face in shaking hands.

“You’re so beautiful.  I want to feel you come, Frankie, honey, come for me.”

He moved to kiss the palm of my hand, then his eyes squeeze shut as he finds his own release.  I can feel it, spilling hot inside of me.  I welcome him as he lowers himself down completely, unable to stay up on his forearms any longer.  He tried to shift off, but I cling to him.  I welcome his weight.  His strength.  

I don’t want to let go.  I never want to let him go.

#frankie morales x reader #Frankie Morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #SMUT #My Fic

[writeblrfantasy]

excerpt from acogs: agathon

been a while since yall have seen acogs content, hm? this has to be one of my favorite pieces of it, certainly one of my favorite backstory pieces. i'm so endlessly proud of this part and i just. ahhhh. please enjoy nikolai's innocent childhood bisexual love <3

wc 2100

When Nikolai was ten, he met a boy.

He had brown skin and golden eyes, and the wonder in them could’ve only been matched by Nikolai’s own. His hair never seemed to lie smooth, no matter how much he pushed it down, contrary to Nikolai’s, which always stuck flat to his head and forced his tickly bangs into his eyes. It still does.

He carried the sun around with him, captured pieces of it in his eyes, infused its warmth into everything he touched. Nikolai heard the sun in his laugh, saw it reflected in his smile. In his confused, cagey, ten year old heart, he understood he was around something special.

Agathon, that was his name. Agathon. So smoothly it rolled off the tongue.

He and his family, all seven of them, arrived in Nikolai’s town with their canvas covered wagon, their camels—this was when Windcarpets were less trusted than they are now—and right into Nikolai’s heart. They came from a remote village on the Urkon-Cairic border, a family who made their living from weaving rugs and clothes.

Nikolai was interested in them the day he saw them, but he always thought they paled in comparison to Agathon. His parents were kind to Nikolai, always offered him honey cakes and tea when he visited, and Agathon’s siblings shared their toys. Agathon’s eldest sister taught him to play the lute.

But Agathon…oh, Agathon.

Agathon took to Nikolai immediately. His first words to him were, “You have spots on your face!” which Nikolai later understood to be the light smattering of freckles that appear across his nose in the summertime, put there by the sun.

He and Agathon spent their days talking about everything and nothing, as ten year olds did, racing each other through the long grass to the west of their desert town. Where the Pelia ended on the north side, at the edge of the village, they would drink and dip their feet and shriek when the water was too cold.

In the winter, on the rare days when the cold rains came and they all had to go inside, Nikolai would beg his mother to let him stay at Agathon’s house until she gave in. The two of them slept side by side under layers of fur that only got used once a year, for occasions like this.

Agathon’s father would read them stories by the fire. Nikolai’s house didn’t have a fireplace, and he was always fascinated by this one. Those were the soundest nights of sleep he ever had, his head nearly buried under fur with Agathon’s hair in his face, his father’s soft voice lulling him to sleep. Nikolai took to calling him Father for a while.

Nikolai rapidly felt himself falling into something he was too young to know. All he understood was that his chest seemed to be expanding every day, a little more, filled with a little more sunlight and warmth every time Agathon laughed at one of his jokes.

Nikolai didn’t ever want to say goodbye to him at the end of the day, he wanted to stay for dinner and stay in Agathon’s room, sleeping on the floor by the fireplace if it was too hot for the furs. They would stay up all night talking and waiting restlessly for morning to come, where they could wander farther than their parents knew and would’ve never let them go had they known.

His mother never invited Agathon to their house, but that was okay. Nikolai didn’t want her sourness, her constant scolding bringing darkness to the light in his chest. One touch of Agathon’s hand and he swore he could fly into the very sun that beat down on them every day.

Nikolai once pressed his lips to Agathon’s cheek on impulse, no self-restraint so young, and he remembers the swoop in his stomach before Agathon turned his head and smiled at him with all the warmth in the world. Nikolai didn’t know what it meant, but he knew enough to sigh in relief and accept it when Agathon grabbed his hand. They ran through the grass field together that day, instead of a race.

And then, like most things in his life, his mother ruined everything.

That’s not something he realized until he was much older and she was dead. Hell, even recently, thanks to Katya, he’s been examining her ghost differently. Agathon was the first in many, many incidents she stripped away his privacy, his privileges, down to the way he thought about himself and his desires. Everything became about pleasing her just enough to keep her off his back.

Nikolai had been working up the nerve to tell Agathon how he felt for a few months, because even then he knew that sort of thing wasn’t always met kindly, when his mother broke the news. They were moving, going north to the capital city Thiria, leaving the town he’d lived in his whole life. Agathon wasn’t coming with them.

It would take a year, his mother said, but she would establish herself and her ideas enough to get her son elected by the community as queen. Nikolai had never had a day of sword training in his life, he couldn’t be a king, a fighter, but he had a silver tongue. He would be a queen.

The clever system of choosing queens and kings in every Actium country puts a pressure on the person to be worthy of the throne. If they are both a good diplomat and a good fighter, they choose whichever label they like best. If they are neither, they should not be on the throne. How simple.

After he’d be elected, his mother would buy herself all the fine clothes and indulge in all the food and get all the attention she’d lacked in her lonely life. Nikolai was merely an instrument. Which is exactly what happened.

It’s an accident that as he grew up in the throne, he started to care about Urkon and the people who brought their problems to him every day. When he learned about the ticking time bomb in his front yard, the one that wouldn’t ever explode but always had a small chance, he breathed through it and went on.

He grinned and bore the knowledge, at eleven, twelve, thirteen, that Urkon was so much more than his little western village and Agathon’s old home. He dealt with farmers who needed a land dispute settled, ambassadors from the west and east and north, he had servants waiting on him, silk and velvet, stuffy city air.

He goggled at just how much his mother didn’t care, but how much effort she put into pretending.

He has risen from nothing, as they all do, to luxury and power, bringing with him an unconscious air of the inexplicable magic that stems from the Staarenclock. From the cerulean diadem that drips from his hair while he sprawls on his throne, to the shining black paint on his fingernails, to the jewelry that rests on his neck, he attracts, he seduces, disappoints.

He’s never tried, and until he was queen, he never noticed. When he did, it became a tool to sate his momentary desires, a temporary fix for his long term ache, a way of fooling people. No one believes a pretty queen is capable of anything.

Good.

Nikolai doesn’t remember much from after his mother’s bombshell announcement, which is partly good. It’s a lot of gaps in numbness and anger he can never get back, and she’s not around to fill in the details. He remembers holding back tears so many times with Agathon, not wanting to ruin their last precious weeks together.

Nikolai went kicking and screaming. He doesn’t want to know how he looked to the villagers, to Agathon’s family. He remembers the tears running down Agathon’s face, the gold fading at long last from his sunshine eyes. Nikolai’s mother was dragging him away, he was no longer close enough to touch him and shudder through the warmth seeping into his skin. Just the knowledge that he no longer could made him ache for it all the more.

Agathon was screaming for him, too. The pair of them must’ve been the most dramatic thing the townsfolk had ever seen, acting like they were dying. Nikolai remembers the agony on Agathon’s mother’s face, the effort it was taking her to hold her son back from running to Nikolai again. He broke free anyway, sprinting toward Nikolai and tripping over himself.

They were locked in each other’s arms for one last time, ugly crying into each other’s shoulders. “I love you,” Nikolai said, as he had seen Agathon’s parents tell each other while they cooked side by side, laughed, shoved each other playfully when bickering. He knew it meant something. He knew it meant everything.

His mother picked him up and carried him on her shoulder the rest of the way, but he watched Agathon mouth it back.

He only had a year with Agathon, but being ripped away from him was like reaching into his chest and pulling out an artery. He had never known pain like that. He told his mother over and over that first year when she was working her way up in Thiria that his heart wouldn’t stop hurting, he missed home, he wanted to go back.

Of course, he didn’t miss the town that much. Thiria was intimidating, but there was so much to do, always something to occupy him. The one thing he missed more than anything in the world was Agathon and his sunshine smile.

As a child, his feelings were so much rawer. He didn’t bother repressing them because he didn’t know how yet, and his mother wasn’t deep enough yet in her madness to teach him to.

Two years later, when he was queen with his mother the real queen behind him, while he tried and failed every day to buck off her hold, he met Saige.

He had forgotten and moved on from Agathon somewhat, of course. He learned from both his mother and practicality that he couldn’t spend all day crying in bed and begging to go back, threatening to steal a camel or a Windcarpet when he got truly desperate. Agathon wasn’t in his head every moment of every day, but he took one look at Saige and it all came back.

The day he met her, he had heard nothing about her but the king who had been put through hell and needed no one but her war of vengeance, and she heard nothing about him but the queen whose mother always seemed to be there.

The day he met Saige, he got his mother to leave them alone for a while. Looking into her brown eyes, her little smirk, her friendly smile, a little piece of his chest ached, but in a different way than it did for Agathon. Hers was the ache after a dislocated joint snapped back into place. Hers was the stretch in the morning, an ebbing headache, the ache of waiting for a healing wound to finally close over. Something that punched the breath out of you, but in a way that was right. Like it was supposed to happen.

The day he met her, he heard Agathon’s parents in her voice, bickering, shoving each other, watched her move and saw them bumping hips as they did the dishes together. He saw Agathon mouthing his final words to him when she spoke.

He’s never told her this, but Saige healed him. It only got better after that day. After stumbling, falling, she guided his feet and helped him find his footing. She did not replace Agathon, because that would be a disservice to both of them. Nikolai found space easily in his heart for her. It was as though she had just been waiting to move in to the space he had prepared for years.

He loves her. He would burn down the world for her, as he hopes she would do for him.

He doesn’t tell Kayani that, however. He skims over the depth of his feelings for Saige—he’s at peace with them, he has nothing to be ashamed of, and he’s pretty sure she knows, but it’s for them. Not Kayani, not anyone else. Not that.

When Nikolai’s done, Kayani is still watching with rapt attention, a bit of shock. He looks up at the moon and inhales. He didn’t realize he’d been rambling so long. Saige is still asleep, thankfully.

“Did you ever try to find him again?” Kayani asks.

“No. It was never the right time, even after her death.” He thinks of it, now. Trying. But the thought makes his chest ache, so he puts it away.

acogs taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @magic-is-something-we-create @inkflight @spencer-nyx @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @wisteria-eventide @nikkywrites @denkis-phone-charger @myhusbandsasemni @lynolord @ettawritesnstudies @golden-apple-s-blog @chazzawrites @pen-of-roses @47crayons @wickerring @sleepy-night-child @florraisons @faithfire @croctears @inkovert @kait-writes

#writing #Lila’s wips: acogs #writeblr #fantasy #fantasy wip #my fantasy wip #my wip #bean's excerpts

[flowerbutton]

karlnapity angst ficlet written for @listentoeight-calmyourself because she inspired me

rings is under the cut, warning: angst, it's painful - quackity pov

There were two rings on Quackity’s desk.

He didn’t know what had compelled him to take them out, to slip them from the cord around his neck and lay them gently before him. He still didn’t know why he was looking at them, why his chest hurt so much at the very sight of them. Quackity was used to the cool metal that sat on his collarbone, a heavy weight that grew warmer as the day continued; the feeling of the burden, the drag of gravity that swung from his neck - it was normal now.

In a sick, twisted way, Quackity was almost glad of it. At least he felt that, at least he could feel it. The rings were physical, something that he could touch, could hold, even if he hated to look at them. They were physical, and he could throw them and hold them and squeeze them in ways that he couldn’t with the incorporeal. His heart, the feelings that sat curled up in his chest: those he couldn’t rage against, not with his fists, not with his hands. He had to think about those, had to ponder on them in order to reject them. At least the rings didn’t make him reflect.

He didn’t want to feel the agony in his chest. Most days, he blocked it out. His country needed running, after all, and who better to do it than him? Who better to hold all the cards than the dealer? He wasn’t going to let his emotions overwhelm him, wasn’t going to consider all he’d lost. Quackity wasn’t Wilbur, who ruined everything because he thought he’d lost it; Quackity was better. He had lost, he had lost, even if they’d walked away, but he wouldn’t let their actions destroy him and his future.

Quackity had lost before them and he had recovered then. He had practically led a country then too, in all but name. Karl Jacobs and Sapnap would have to do worse if they thought they could destroy him. Quackity did not fall into pain easily, and he would walk from it better than before. He would ensure it.

It didn’t stop the way his stomach clenched whenever their names passed through his mind. He couldn’t look at an analog clock without wanting to throw up; Las Nevadas, he’d ensured, ran on digital time, military time. There were no hands ticking the seconds away, only blaring red lights like the ones on his casino, ones that screamed safety and punctuality. He’d banned open flames in his country too, forcing the sound of bonfires from his mind. Fires on the beach, marshmallows on his tongue: there was no place for warm hands and tender smiles in Las Nevadas, no matter how many times he wished for them at night.

He hadn’t ever stopped wishing for them. Sapnap’s warm hands, his calloused fingers interwoven with his; Karl’s numerous watches, the sound of ticking promising another second in his arms - Quackity hadn’t ever stopped longing for them. That was the pain in his chest, the one he raged against when he fell into his thoughts; longing and desire, desperation and need, need, need. Some days Quackity woke up certain that he needed them like he needed air to breathe and grass to touch. They were his soulmates, the other two halves of his triangular soul. They were the sun and the earth, had him caught in their gravity, had locked him in the orbit of their hearts. He burned at the thought of them, burned at the need of them.

Some days, Quackity woke up certain that he needed them. He would close his eyes, slide the chain with the rings over his head, and stand up, knowing that he didn’t. Quackity couldn’t.

Yet the sight of the rings on the desk almost teased him. He could, they whispered; he could have them, could return to their arms, their hands, their orbit. Quackity knew where they were, had seen the mushrooms that had grown into houses, into a city, into a country, a kingdom. He had stood on a hill not two hundred yards away from their border, watching as people stumbled about, just getting their footing. Kinoko Kingdom was new, clean, fresh: there were no obsidian walls surrounding their kingdom, no desperate pleas for independence that had scorched themselves into the memory of the land. There were no explosions marring Kinoko’s history; Karl and Sapnap’s hands were clean, fresh, warm.

Only Quackity came with scars.

That was why he’d turned away, as the sunlight began to die behind the town hall on the hill. Kinoko was burgeoning, a life ready to take shape, to be crafted. Quackity was old, too brittle to bend, too broken to remould. His soul was shattered, covered in ash and pickaxe blemishes. Any step he took into Kinoko, any step he took into the lives of his fiances, would only end up the same way.

He was safer alone. They were safer when he was alone. Las Nevadas was built on a lie, a desert in a snowy land, and Quackity was happy to indulge his own fabrications too: everything in Las Nevadas was fine. He would ensure it, with military time and no open flames. His country would not fall, not to his or his citizens’ hands, not even to Wilbur Soot.

And if it did then Kinoko wouldn’t fall alongside it.

His fingers slid around the gold bands on the desk in front of him, cold to the touch. They weighed the same as they had before, the same weight of a broken heart, of a shattered soul into fractured pieces.

Quackity closed his eyes and slipped the cord around his neck. A new, third ring clinked against the other two.

At least at the curve of his throat, they would be together.

#quackity #c!quackity #c!karlnapity #karlnapity #karlnapity fic #dream smp fic #dream smp ficlet #ficlet #mary writes #it's not proof-read bc it's like 1am #but mage this is for you #fanfiction

[jamilelucato]

Hi there! Could I maybe get a fred Weasley x Romanian!Reader and maybe like she goes to the burrow for the holidays? She could try to confess to him by telling him he loves him in Romanian but always telling him it means sth else. But she doesn't know about Charlie and the fact that he used to live there, and then... y'know, up to you? Just thought this was an interesting idea lmaoo. Thank you and congrats!!🥺💕

Te Iubesc [F.W.]

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Romanian!reader (can be from any House really)

A/N: I ended up changing a bit of your context and only noticed it later, and I’m really sorry for that. Instead of she saying it all the time, she accidentally confesses it in Romanian. I'm sorry it's not what you actually asked for, but I hope you enjoy it either way.

Send a request! ||  Harry Potter Masterlist ||  Musical Hogwarts Series

**

It was particularly weird being a Romanian at Hogwarts, but since it was your parents’ dream to you study there, you were not to complain.

It took you a while to find your place, but it was way easy when the famous Weasley Twins played a prank on you. 

When your whole body turned blue, and you ran around the corridors of Hogwarts, asking, angrily, if anyone had seen who could be guilty of it — you knew it could only have been the twins. They appeared two hours later in front of you, with puckered foreheads and using minimal eye contact. One of them had a flask, and he handed it to you.

“We’re really sorry,” he said, with an almost smile, but not of happiness. He wouldn’t dare laugh at your blue skin while you stared at him with a killer expression. “It wasn’t for you; we mixed it up in the deliver.”

“And what is this?” you asked, raising the flask closer to your eyes to analyze it better.

“The antidote,” one of them said.

“You don’t want to be forever blue, do you?” asked the other and they both giggled.

You drank all the liquid in one gulp, desperate to go back to your natural colour. The twins stared at you while your body changed its colour, and you couldn’t see the point. What did they want? Thanks?

“Are you two expecting me to thank you?” you asked, with a mean voice.

They exchanged looks before smiling.

“No, we just would like to introduce ourselves, that’s all,” said the one that had more freckles.

“You’re Fred and George Weasley, everyone knows who you are,” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. You saw their eyes following your arms, and then they blushed. You chuckled at those boys stupidity.

“But do you know which is which?” he continued, smirking. “I’m Fred,” he whispered, tipping you since you hadn’t answered his question.

“I’m George,” said the other.

You took a great look at both of their faces, making sure you discerned things that would make it easier to differentiate them. Fred had a better posture, nothing very perfect, but just slightly better than George. And he had more freckles, at least on his face he did.

“I’m y/N,” you said, noticing they were waiting for you to present yourself.

And that was enough for a born of a beautiful friendship.

The pranks still got you, those times on purpose, but they all gave you a break when you asked. You started helping them with their homework and study for exams — even though they hated it.

You lost track of how many vacation days you spent in the Burrow, and this year, you were going back there. You were especially excited this year — and partly worried — because, since the beginning of the sixth year, you’ve been developing an enormous, gigantic crush on Fred.

So, spending the Christmas holiday with the Weasleys, having Fred next to you all weekend, was going to be awesome, but also terrifying because he had no idea you fancied him — and you wanted things to still be like that. 

Fred was known to have had tons of girlfriends — he usually told you everything about every girl he ever snogged. You didn’t want to be just another one that he would abandon in a month. That would completely ruin your friendship, and that meant being apart from a ton of other friends. Being friends with the twins allowed you to befriend Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Harry, and now they are essential in your life too.

“Hi, dear!” Molly hugged you tightly as soon as you stepped in the kitchen. You hugged her back once your shock passed. “I’m so happy to have you here for another year; surely I can’t stand my kids saying again I have a terrible taste for music.”

Oh, yeah, one fact: every Weasley kid (in particular Fred) hated your taste in music. They hated it because you loved the same singers as their mom did, and Fred disliked it the most. As more annoyed he got by your singing, more you sang.

“By the way,” you smiled, “you’ll love the present I got you. I know I shouldn’t say something yet,” you leaned in Mrs Weasley’s ear and whispered: “but I just wanna make sure you haven’t got Warbeck’s newest CD, have you?”

Molly Weasley gasped in surprise and hugged you even tighter.

“That’s why you’re my favourite!” she muttered in your ear and winked when you leaned away and faced her.

Blushing, you went upstairs to find the room Molly always left for you — it was Charlie’s old room. It was the closest to the twins, so you liked it. And the place was decorated with old faded posters of creatures only your home country could offer.

You’ve never met Charlie Weasley, only Bill and Percy, but you knew he was fascinated with dragons, and that your country had to offer. 

You lost a couple of minutes staring at one of the posters; not for the dragon, but because of the background — your old but forever home.

When you got out of the room, you didn’t even need to wander around to find the twins.

“y/N! You came!” shouted an excited Fred Weasley, getting you by your waist and spinning you around in a hug.

George was right next to his twin, rolling his eyes at how foolishly obvious you two were about fancying each other, but none would move a finger to change the situation.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” you say when Fred finally puts you down. “Hey, George!”

George hugs you too, but not with the same passion as Fred. It makes you wonder if it was your fault somehow to why Fred spun you around. You should have gone with a simple embrace like you’re doing with George. Gosh, why having a crush has to be so hard?

“So, we’re planning a Quidditch game in the yard. You in?” Fred asked as soon as George released you.

“Sure,” you smiled, placing your hands on your waist. “But I’m seeker,” you warned, raising a brow.

“Harry will love to hear that,” George commented.

“And I need a broom,” you added, tilting your head, trying to look pity-worth.

“You can take mine,” Fred said while you three headed downstairs.

You stopped right away. George kept walking, and suddenly it was just you and Fred in the middle of the stairs.

“You’re gonna use your old one? No way; that thing sucks, Fred,” you said.

“But a seeker needs a better broom than a beater,” he pointed out, tilting his head towards you and some red locks fell upon his eyes. Instinctively, you reached for them and took away from his eyes. He blushed with a small smile.

“You’re too nice to me,” you said, nodding and starting to walk again.

“Perhaps you deserve it,” he muttered, half-hoping you wouldn’t hear, and half-hoping you would.

Fred has been playing this dangerous game for a while now — plainly flirting with you, expecting that if you didn’t see him that way, you would take it as a joke.

When the game finally started, you were glad to be in Fred’s team. Some arrangements had to be done to accommodate less than the minimum number of players per team, so instead of two beaters, your team had only Fred.

Ginny was your keeper; even though she hated the position, she was proving to be quite good at it. Of course, Ron, on the other side, was being way better.

The disadvantage for you was that although you are a great seeker, you had to be also a good chaser, because your team had only three players with you, so that left you with two jobs. Fred helped as much as he could, but he was more used to his role as a beater than to play a chaser.

When George’s team won — Harry got the Snitch (I mean, come on, how to compete?) — you were completely dirty.

You’d never tell Fred, but George was a better beater than the twin, so you’d been hit more times than you would’ve liked and ended up rolling on the grass, still wet from the rain the night before, enough times that your pants (which were blue jeans) were now the colour of mud.

None of this was bothering you, however. You were, in fact, laughing at yourself and everyone who was also dirty. Hermione had arrived in time to watch the last minutes of the match, but she was now trapped in the kitchen, with Ron and Harry filling her with bizarre theories. George and Ginny had run off right after the victory celebration, to see who could get to the shower first.

Although you have no idea how long you would still have to stay dirty, showering was your last concern. At the moment, you were occupied in trying to smudge Fred even more, while both rolled on the grass like two crazy kids.

It felt like a tickling and laughing competition — what you were competing about was uncertain, however, you were definitely competing because Fred wasn’t leaving you alone and you were loving it.

“Thanks for the match, Fred,” you said the instant you were able to breathe without laughing. You were propped up on your right elbow, which raised your head enough so that you could see the redhead’s face, who was looking at the sun that was already hiding behind the clouds. “You could have left me; it was clear that I was going to lose.”

“Give it up then, y/N. I’ll never leave you,” he replied, looking sideways at you and looking back at the setting sun.

You took a deep breath, enchanted by his beauty and his words. When you realized you had already said: “Te iubesc.”

Fred turned quickly at you, frowning. “Did you say something?”

You gulped, as red as one can get and quickly got up. You had just said you loved him, thankfully in Romanian, but still... Close call.

“I’m heading to the shower,” for the first time that late afternoon, you were urgent to get cleaned up. 

“I don’t think George — or Ginny, whoever got there first — is done yet,” Fred said, sitting down on the grass.

“Doesn’t matter,” you pretended to laugh it off and rushed inside the Burrow, leaving a confuse Fred behind.

Well, not so confused. Fred was almost certain you said “te iubesc” to him, and he was sure that was something in Romanian. He knew you were from there, and he always waited for the moment you would let a Romanian dialect, word or accent slip, but that day never came — until now.

He waited for this moment because he made Charlie teach him some primary words, so he could reply with a ”yes”, “no” or simply “Nu mai esti în România.”

Although at the top of his head, your words didn’t click in his head as nothing he knew the meaning, he had a feeling he had heard it before. He could ask Charlie, but knowing the family owl, it would take Fred a week to learn the meaning.

He waited a while before heading to the kitchen, where he found a distracted Harry, a sceptical Hermione and his younger brother, Ron, eating, as always.

“Ron?”

“Huh?” Ron let out between bites. 

“Have you seen Mum?” Fred asked.

“I think she’s doing laundry,” Ron answered. “Why?”

“Wanted to ask her something, that’s all,” Fred was already turning away when Hermione called.

“Perhaps I can help. What’s it?”

“Nosy,” grunted Ron, but the girl didn’t hear.

“It’s a phrase in Romanian. Somehow, I think I heard Charlie say it to Mum once,” Fred shrugged, assuming Hermione wouldn’t be able to help with that.

“Your mom keeps a Romanian dictionary in the living room. Over the fireplace,” Hermione said as if it was nothing — as if the whole family knew about it.

Fred raised his brows, suddenly excited. “Thanks, Hermione,” he mumbled before rushing to the fire to get the book.

After some minutes with it, Fred was about to give up. The dictionary was no help with phrases; it was only good for random words alone.

“Mum!” he exclaimed in surprise and relief when Molly walked in, holding a basket of clean clothes.

“Fred!” she exclaimed back. She wasn’t used with her kids that excited to see her.

“Last time Charlie was here, he was using a lot of Romanian dialects,” Fred started, not sure of how to proceed.

“Yes,” his mother simply said.

“And he said something to you after hugging you. Did he translate?”

“Oh! Te iubesc?” Molly definitely was not used to Romanian — in Fred opinion her accent was terrible compared to yours, but the words were apparently the same, so he didn’t complain.

“That’s it! What does it mean?” Fred jumped from the couch towards his mother.

“It means I love you. Your brother is such a sweetie,” Molly smiled with the memory — she missed all her kids, but most especially Charlie and Bill.

Mrs Weasley was so distracted by the memory of the last hug she gave her son, that she left the room without lingering with her older twin son. She didn’t seem to notice that Fred was paralyzed in place, relying on the sofa to keep him upright.

Fred couldn’t think — he was silly, completely silly. As crude as the adjective was, that was how he felt. He was happy, of course, he was!

You had practically declared yourself to him, and yet you had done so in innocence, using your mother tongue, which, in Fred’s opinion, only proved how true you were.

He had to do something about it. But what? It’d be ridiculous to use your words to reciprocate the statement — Fred wouldn’t be able to copy the accent well enough to make the sentence natural.

Something told him that he should act naturally about it and wait for your confession in English, which would mean that you really wanted him to understand. 

But then, how to look at you again and ignore that the most beautiful girl in the world, the friendliest, the funniest, the most talented, had said that she loved him? How would he ever go back to acting normally knowing that the only girl he ever loved— that he always hoped would be his— loved him?

Taking a deep breath, Fred came to an inevitable conclusion: he needed to be the one who would confess his feelings. Now he just needs a plan to how to do it.

After a long wait, it was finally your time with the shower, and you hoped it would clean not only your skin but also your thoughts.

So close, so close you came of confessing to Fred. Well, you actually did it, but in Romanian, so he’ll never know it.

You needed to distract yourself from Fred Weasley, but after that shower, everywhere you looked, there he was. 

Fred was outside of the bathroom, waiting for his turn to shower. You greeted him with a yellow smile before rushing back to your room. 

Just an hour before dinner, you were sitting in the living room, and he decided to sit next to you in the couch. Sure a part of you was thrilled, but another was freaking out.

When dinner was ready, he sat next to you again at the table.

When you thought you were about to free yourself from him —leaving quickly from the dinner table and rushing to get the armchair, where you would at least sit alone, he called you out.

“I need to show you...” he looked around before continuing in a whisper, “... a new product.”

You sighed, deciding it was better if you learned how to swallow your feelings and let your love for Fred kill you from inside out.

You two walked to upstairs where he guided you to hs room.

“Where’s George?” you asked once you sat down, remembering that generally, when they had a new product, George was always around to see your reaction too.

Fred just shrugged, almost ignoring your question.

“I have something to tell you,” he said fast, scared he would lose his courage. “And, well, I don’t really know how to do it... You see, I’ve never told a girl I’m in love with her before.”

Fred hadn’t realized that he had just done that, so while he was lost in words, rambling how amazing you were, you were frozen at just the “I’m in love” bit.

“Come again?”

“...should have said it sooner, because I’ve been... — wait, which part do you want me to say again?” he stopped his tracks.

You sighed and looked up from your knees, raising your eyes enough to meet his.

“You love me?”

“Te iubesc, yes,” Fred said. and then he hit himself in the forehead because he had promised he wasn’t going to use Romanian to declare his feelings. “Sorry about the Romanian bit. I love you, yes, that’s what I meant.”

“Wait. You understood me earlier?” your brain was just malfunction at this point, like a broken old computer.

“Not right away...” Fred stopped talking when he noticed you were panicking. “Look, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a long time now. When you said it first, you just made things easier for me.”

“How did you know?”

“Charlie, my brother. He lives in Romania.”

Damn it, of course, the dragon fanatic would have gone live in your country; why wouldn’t he?

For a few minutes, or at least you guessed it had only been minutes, Fred stood in front of you, who was sitting on his bed, and the two avoided looking at each other for a long time.

“Should’ve guessed. Your mom kept Charlie’s posters of my country in his room,” you tried to laugh it off.

Fred ended up chuckling too. “Can we quit being awkward? I really want to kiss you,” he said, smiling and blushing slightly at the same time. “I mean, my brother will leave the room just to us for not much longer.”

It was your time to chucked while getting up, ready to have Fred’s lips in your for what you hoped would be the first of many times.

“I have a room for my own, silly,” you whispered in his ear before he smirked and trapped you in his embrace.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x romanian reader #george weasley #the burrow #hary potter #harry potter fanfic #fred weasley x you #fred and george weasley #fred and george