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vivmaek · 5 months

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STYLE AND AESTHETICS: Astrology Observations

Within this post, there are three different sections.

The Ascendant (physical appearance, character)

The Venus Sign (relationship to aesthetics)

The 5th House (self-expression)

SECTION ONE: THE ASCENDANT

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Aries - Known for their distinct facial features and athletic builds. They look younger than they are and always have bright smiles. Risk takers and adrenaline junkies. Always prepared to jump into something new. Their energetic aura is hard to miss.

Archetype: The Warrior

Tarot Card: The Emperor

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Taurus - It's all about symmetry. They have pretty faces and usually have round eyes. Something about them looks delicate despite their strong postures. Down to earth individuals and connected to nature.

Archetype: The Sensualist

Tarot Card: The Hierophant

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Gemini - You can read these people like a book, one of the most expressive rising signs. There's always a smirk on their face. They walk fast, talk fast, and think quickly. They lure people in with their charms and fun stories. They’re mischievous little fairies.

Archetype: The Jester

Tarot Card: The Lovers

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Cancer - Something about their appearance makes them easy to trust. Their soft features are beautiful and they move gently. You never know what mood they’re in. Elusive individuals who flourish within the private sphere.

Archetype: The Healer

Tarot Card: The Chariot

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Leo -Their high level of confidence is always noticed first. They have a domineering presence that looms over others, everyone knows when they’ve entered a room. Big smiles and loud laughs. They’re here for a good time and will go out of their way to make sure other people are having fun.

Archetype: The Hero

Tarot Card: Strength

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Virgo - These types intimidate people through their subtle expressions. They have bright and clear eyes that are always observing their surroundings. They look clever and are always put together. Understated beauty when it comes to their physical appearance. I think of pixies with this placement because of their sharp, edgy features, and cutting remarks.

Archetype: The Sage

Tarot Card: The Hermit

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Libra - They glow with beauty. Very charming. The most conventionally attractive. They’re sort of everybody's type. Girl next door vibes. The person giggling and flirting at the back of the classroom.

Archetype: The Princess/Prince

Tarot Card: Justice

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Scorpio - It's all in the eyes. That is the first feature everyone notices within a Scorpio rising. They make eye contact and want people to know that they see them for who they are. Did I mention intense? They have a heavy energy.

Archetype: The Alchemist

Tarot Card: Death

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Sagittarius - So cheerful and ready to join in. They have bright and happy facial expressions. They carry themselves with confidence. Always moving, they use their whole body to express themselves. Wild stallions.

Archetype: The Explorer

Tarot Card: Temperance

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Capricorn - Something about them looks resilient. Their strength as a person is immediately evident. This is the person you go to when life gets too chaotic. They look older than they actually are. People rely on them and they carry this weight with them everywhere they go.

Archetype: The Queen/King

Tarot Card: The Devil

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Aquarius - Odd-balls. They look different compared to everyone else. Calm, cool, and collected. They look detached. Awkward in an endearing sort of way. They surprise people with their eccentric ways.

Archetype: The Rebel

Tarot Card: The Star

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Pisces - Sometimes they look half asleep. Wherever they are, they’re not here. Always staring off into the distance. Large, emotional eyes. Old souls who have already seen too much.

Archetype: The Mystic

Tarot Card: The Moon

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SECTION TWO: THE VENUS SIGN

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Aries - These people know what they want. Very decisive about what sort of aesthetics they enjoy, and they tend to stick to it. They’re all about being authentic and they want their appearance to reflect this. They love bright colors and flashy prints, especially animal prints. They don’t care if other people don’t like what they like. They’re not highly influenced by fashion trends like other Venus signs. They’d rather try something new and completely original. Obviously, they like to present themselves with a lot of sex appeal.

Colors: crimson, bronze, canary yellow, admiral, eggplant, hot pink

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Taurus - The most likely to stick to fashion trends. People with this placement are probably going crazy over the “clean girl aesthetic,” because it's right up their alley. They want to enhance their own natural beauty. They enjoy the routine of self care, and you can tell just by looking at them that they take good care of themselves. They have an innate understanding of what's currently in, but they’re not experimental. They want to look pretty, not odd or strange. They’re also not trying to make any statements with their appearance, they’re only looking for admiration.

Colors: ruby, honey, dijon, basil, cerulean, mulberry, peach

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Gemini - It's hard to define the aesthetic and style of a Gemini Venus because it’s always changing. I actually think this is quite exciting, and I wish more people were willing to try things they normally wouldn’t. They learn about themselves through the ways in which they dress. They want to explore their own identity. They’re not afraid to embrace the multi-faceted person that they are. They’re always changing up their look based on where they’re going, who they’re seeing, and what place in life they’re currently at.

Colors: blush, tangerine, buttermilk, chartreuse, sky blue, periwinkle, strawberry

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Cancer - Being comfortable is important for a Cancer Venus. They pay a lot of attention to the weight and textures of fabrics. They might feel more drawn to high quality pieces because of the way it feels against skin. They love oversized clothing, and might even try to hide themselves through clothing. You won’t catch them putting on skin tight clothing just to look sexy. They’ll probably opt for more sensual pieces that move and flow naturally with the body. They’re also the most fond of outdated clothing trends and often bring them back into style.

Colors: garnet, amber, sepia, crocodile, ocean blue, iris, cherry blossom

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Leo - People with this placement are on a mission to always look their best. They dress for an audience. These are “it-girls,” who are always with the trends. They garner a lot of attention and praise through the ways in which they dress. London Tipton vibes. The types of people who never wear an outfit twice. They love expressing themselves through their sense of style, this is something that brings them a lot of joy. They’re drawn to flashy pieces that make big statements.

Colors: carmine, merigold, sunflower, emerald, cobalt, magenta, punch

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Virgo - Oof, these people get picky when it comes to the clothing they wear. They have a keen eye for detail and notice when something has been poorly manufactured. They have high standards and they put a lot of thought into the ways in which they want to portray themselves aesthetically. They’re all about accessories, which really elevates their look. They probably own lots of interesting trinkets that they use to adorn their appearance. They’re fond of handmade clothing, such as crocheted sweaters and upcycled fabrics. They can sniff out all the good clothing items within a thrift store.

Colors: sangria, clay, hazel wood, sage, aegean, grape, crepe

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Libra - People with this placement are prim and polished. They understand the power of beauty and glamor. They can think of things that other people wouldn’t when dressing themselves. Perfume and the way in which they smell is important, they understand this influences how people will visually perceive them. They balance makeup, jewelry, accessories, and fine clothing all within one look. Nothing appears to be out of place. Other people are incredibly attracted to the aesthetics that they craft. They make it seem so easy.

Colors: rose, deep saffron, macaroon, pistachio, sapphire, lilac, rouge

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Scorpio - If anyones going to have an extensive collection of lingerie, it's going to be a Scorpio Venus. They think about what they’ll wear underneath their clothes before anything else. Underwear creates shapes and silhouettes, and they understand how this influences the appearance of outer wear. They love it when clothing has intimate details, and they want their pieces to present a seductive quality. Leather, lace, and mesh are right up their alley. They go for looks that are dark, moody, and dramatic. They get a kick out of making people uncomfortable through their appearance, they like having that sort of power over people.

Colors: mahogany, spice, sand dollar, seaweed, peacock, raisin, baby pink

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Sagittarius - These types are going to feel more drawn to athleisure in comparison to other Venus signs. They like to move around, the clothing they wear needs to support this. Someone with this placement might dress like they’re going for a hike everyday, even if they’re not. They don’t stick to the same thing all the time though, they know how to dress up for an event. They’re probably all about the cargo pants trend, they love having lots of pockets for storage. They're the most likely to carry around a purse with them everyday. Mini skirts or anything showing off their legs looks especially good on people with this placement.

Colors: currant, ginger, tuscany, moss, indigo, plum, magenta

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Capricorn - The “old-money” aesthetic comes to mind when thinking about this placement. These types are incredibly chic. They’re trying to garner respect through their appearance and will opt for looks that highlight their elegance. They’re also very picky about what they wear, they won’t buy something unless they absolutely love it. They don’t pay too much attention to trends and are more drawn to timeless silhouettes. Much of their style is centered upon whatever career field they belong to.

Colors: wine, sandstone, beige, pine, navy, english violet, rosewood

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Aquarius - They want to be the most unique person in the room and will use their aesthetic to achieve this. They’re not afraid to present bold looks and they want their sense of authenticity to be evident. They’re inventive with their style and are always willing to try something new. They don’t worry too much about the judgments of others, they don’t care if people think they look strange. They don’t participate in clothing trends because they’re the ones setting trends.

Colors: brick, cadmium orange, pale goldenrod, persian green, teal, heather, salmon

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Pisces - People with this placement channel their inner fantasies into their appearance. They don’t set boundaries for themselves and will wear whatever inspires them the most that day. Their favorite tv shows and movies hold a major influence over their style. They can see themselves within fictional characters, and through this they develop their taste for aesthetics. Because of this, they appear otherworldly. Their inspirations are not based within reality. They treat their everyday outfits as if they were costumes.

Colors: berry, coral, pastel yellow, mint, arctic blue, lavender, ballet slipper

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SECTION THREE: THE 5th HOUSE

Within this section, I used fashion designers as examples. However, the amount of designers with accessible birth charts is incredibly limited. For Venus, Mars, and Neptune, I used different examples still related to fashion and self-expression. I also noticed that Uranus within the 5th house was the most common placement for fashion designers. If you don't have any planets placed within the 5th house, I'd recommend using its planetary ruler.

Sun in the 5th House: Alexander Mcqueen

“I design clothes because I don’t want women to look all innocent and naïve… I want woman to look stronger… I don’t like women to be taken advantage of… I don’t like men whistling at women in the street. I think they deserve more respect. I like men to keep their distance from women, I like men to be stunned by an entrance. I’ve seen a woman get nearly beaten to death by her husband. I know what misogyny is… I want people to be afraid of the women I dress.”

provocative, romantic, regal, striking, theatrical, dignified

Alexander Mcqueen is a highly celebrated fashion designer who defined what fashion could look like for women within the 21st century. Mcqueen felt a need to protect women and did this through the clothing that he created. He knew that women were deserving of respect and wanted to present them in a dignified manner. Alexander Mcqueen's aesthetic demands attention, it is majestic and imposing.

Moon in the 5th House: Oscar de la Renta

“There is always an emotional element to anything that you make.”

delicate, feminine, intimate, graceful, gentle

Oscar de la Renta cites his mother and sisters as his greatest source of inspiration. He grew up surrounded by women, and deeply admired them. In turn, the women within his life supported his artistic endeavors and pushed him to embrace his creativity. La Renta felt that each and every women deserves to feel beautiful. He wanted women to embrace their personalities through clothing. He took the time to understand his clients on a personal level so that his designs would stay true to who they were as people.

Mercury in the 5th House: Betsey Johnson

“Making clothes involves what I like...color, pattern, shape and movement...I like the everyday process...the people, the pressure, the surprise of seeing the work come alive walking and dancing around on strangers. Like red lipstick on the mouth, my products wake up and brighten and bring the wearer to life...drawing attention to her beauty and specialness...her moods and movements...her dreams and fantasies.”

playful, energetic, quirky, colorful, unique, tacky

Betsey Johnson took the high-femme ideal and made it comical. Johnson wanted to have fun with her designs, and she wanted women to have fun when wearing them. She was all about creating sexy silhouettes rooted within mischief. Johnson describes her aesthetic as “pretty and punk.” Girlish elements juxtaposed with edgy qualities. Betsey Johnson was especially popular amongst teen girls in the 80s. Johnson was the one who crafted the stereotypical puffy, pink, 80s prom dress. Betsey girls embrace their playfulness because being sophisticated is too boring.

Venus in the 5th House: Naomi Cambell

“I don't think I was born beautiful. I just think I was born me.”

dramatic, glamorous, magnetic, exclusive, luxurious, sensual

Naomi Cambell has held major influence over the fashion industry. Campbell was one of the first black models to reach supermodel status, was the first black woman on the covers of British and French Vogue, and was the first black woman to appear on the cover of Time magazine. She challenged beauty ideals within society, and opened doors for other women of color. Campbell is the ultimate fashion icon and was a muse for many designers, especially Azzedine Alaïa. Campbell is now an editor at British Vogue, and her influence remains powerful.

Mars in the 5th House: Jonathan Jony Ive

“If something is going to be better, it is new, and if it’s new you are confronting problems and challenges you don’t have references for.”

innovative, crucial, unobtrusive, thorough, minimalistic

Okay, who is this guy?? I didn’t know until I started doing research for this post, but after reading about him I think everyone should know his name. Ive served as senior vice president of industrial design and was the chief design officer for Apple Inc. This man crafted design motifs that have held major influence over the aesthetic of the 21st century. He brought focus to all white color pallets, translucency, dark aluminum, and slate. Ive played a vital role within the designing process of the iPod, the iPhone, and the iPad, plus much more. Ive believes that function and aesthetic go hand and hand, they are not two separate entities.

Jupiter in the 5th House: Vivienne Westwood

“I’m not terribly interested in beauty. What touches me is someone who understands herself.”

rebellious, independent, bold, irreverent, maximinimalism

Vivienne Westwood wanted her clothing to be life-enhancing, she put a lot of effort into developing the philosophy of her brand. She was also adamant that the only way a person could develop personal identity is through intellectual pursuits. Westwood claimed that carrying The Catcher in the Rye under an arm is one of the most fashionable things a person can do. Westwood believed that you develop style through the process of truly knowing yourself.

Saturn in the 5th House: Isabel Marant

“You can’t put together a formula for how to look gorgeous – it's a question of personality.”

nonchalant, classy, understated, parisian, timeless

Marant is focused on crafting clothing that will last for a long time, she wants people to wear her pieces for years on end. Marant doesn’t follow trends and sticks to classic silhouettes that will always hold relevancy. Her clothing has integrity, and she wants people to feel independent and strong when wearing her pieces. I also think it's interesting that Isabel Marant has a code of ethics displayed on her website, she is committed to holding her company to a high standard. This isn’t something I saw when exploring other fashion houses.

Uranus in the 5th House: Pierre Cardin

"The clothes I prefer are those I have created for a life that does not yet exist, the world of tomorrow."

futuristic, unconventional, sculptural, clean, revolutionary

Pierre Cardin is an absolute legend. Cardin developed the aesthetic of the space age during the 50s and 60s. He embraces the avant-garde and holds a love for geometric shapes and patterns. Cardin completely disregarded the female form and was one of the firsts to craft gender non-comforming clothing. Many of his pieces are unisex. His clothing is not practical, but it is thought provoking. However, Cardin did pave the way for our modern day athleisure aesthetic. Cardin crafted the foundations for athletic clothing, which was something not seen before his time.

Neptune in the 5th House: Sandy Powell

"Costume design isn’t about fashion. Fashion is fashion. Costume design is characters and costumes, so nothing to do with whether you’re fashionable or not, or understanding fashion.”

imaginative, whimsical, dream-like, eccentric, sensitive

Powell is not a clothing designer, she's a costume designer. She has won 43 oscars for her contributions within the film industry. You’d know her from The Wolf of Wall Street, Shakespear in Love, and Interview with a Vampire, plus much more. What makes Powell such a legend is her understanding of how character and story come into play when developing designs. She is not trying to make statements through her costumes, she is trying to enhance the personality of the characters. The costumes she's crafted are influential upon fashion trends outside of film. We all need a little fantasy within our daily lives.

Pluto in the 5th House: Donatella Versace

“I know fashion is not something that can change the world, but it can change the woman. It can empower the woman. It can make her strong, in herself, and to believe in herself more.”

seductive, dynamic, subversive, spectacular, powerful, daring

It is no coincidence that Donatella Versace became an important figure within the fashion industry after the death of her dear brother, Gianni. Donatella has faced many tragedies within her life. Within her own fashion philosophy, Donatalla tries to combat insecurity through clothing. There is no way a woman will ever appear timid when wearing Versace, and that's exactly what Donatella wants. Being a shy woman herself, Donatella is able to transform herself through the clothing that she wears. She understands the power of fashion, and wants to remind every woman that something truly fabulous resides within them.

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st4rtar0t · 6 months

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Describing your first kiss with your future lover as a writer 🙈

Pick a picture

Picture one

The music plays softly in the background as you lean in, the air crackles with an anticipation only found in that moment before lips meet. The kiss promises comfort, a reassurance in the warmth that envelops both of you. Your partner's embrace offers a sanctuary, a safe space amidst the chaotic world. Passion ignites as your lips connect, a fiery dance born of unspoken desires. The kiss speaks of a raw, intense longing, drawing upon the depth of emotion shared between you. It's not just a meeting of mouths; it's a convergence of souls, each expressing an unyielding ardor that sets your heart ablaze. Yet, amidst this fervor, there's an undeniable strength, a sense of unwavering determination felt in the way your partner holds you close. It's a silent declaration that no matter what challenges arise, together, you can conquer them. The kiss is a testament to resilience, an affirmation of unity in the face of any storm. In the exchange, there's also a note of caution, a tender awareness that each touch is a precious gift. It's as if the kiss acknowledges the fragile nature of the heart, proceeding with a gentle reverence for the vulnerability you both share. The kiss lingers, not just in the meeting of lips but in the emotional resonance it leaves behind—the promise of support, the depth of desire, the fortitude of unity, and the delicate balance of tender caution.

Key words: passion, a little sprinkle of obsession, caring, fearing they would break you, meeting after longing for eachother.

Picture two

As you stand there, your heart races with an amalgamation of emotions, a fusion of fear and love, almost tangible in the charged air. Your eyes lock onto theirs, drawn in by an overwhelming sense of connection, a powerful ideation stirring within. The atmosphere around you seems to glow with an ethereal illumination, as if the universe itself is rooting for this moment to happen. Your trembling hand reaches out, tentatively seeking theirs, fingers entwining like the interlocking of a complex puzzle, signaling the unspoken courage that blossoms from deep within. The touch ignites a cascade of sensations, an inexplicable energy coursing through your veins, merging fear with a newfound strength, propelling you forward. The close proximity sends a surge of anticipation through both of you, the unspoken desire palpable. Your breaths synchronize in a symphony of shared emotion, a dance of hesitant yet eager hearts. The moment hangs suspended, almost frozen in time, a poignant pause before the inevitable. And then, with a tender yet determined closeness, your lips meet, a convergence of feelings that surpasses words. It's a kiss that serves as a sanctuary, a moment of cleansing where doubts and worries dissipate, replaced by a flood of pure emotion. In that timeless embrace, fears melt away, overcome by the gentle, reassuring strength of the shared affection. The kiss lingers, neither hurried nor prolonged, a gentle exploration of each other's soul, each second deepening the bond between you. It's a delicate dance, a silent conversation of passion and understanding, each movement, each sensation revealing a layer of vulnerability, a layer of trust. As you pull away, a sense of peace settles within, akin to the stillness after a storm. The kiss, an exquisite manifestation of love, lingers in the air, a testament to the courage to face fears, the strength to surrender to love, and the realization that in each other's arms, there exists a sanctuary where the mind finds solace and the heart finds its true home.

Keywords: opposite attract, roses, mixed race , hazel eyes , red spider lily, Japan, dark skin, formal attire.

Picture three

The moon shone brightly seemingly proud of your union , the air is filled with an electric tension, echoing the love that binds your souls. The world that has rejected your love long forgotten. The soft breeze carries whispers of determination, as both of you lean in, hearts pounding in unison, ready to embark on this intimate moment. Your eyes meet, reflecting the abundance of emotion, a reservoir overflowing with passion and devotion. With a gentle yet resolute touch, your hands intertwine, a symbolic gesture of success and unity. As your lips finally meet, there's a seamless flow between you, a dance of affectionate exchange that mirrors the synchronized rhythm of your hearts. The kiss holds the essence of intuition, each movement guided by an unspoken understanding, a silent language known only to the two of you. It's not just a meeting of two souls; it's a fusion of dreams and desires. Your courage to express your love intertwines with the richness of emotions, creating a moment that transcends time. In this shared embrace, the world fades away, leaving only the intensity of the present, where your love knows no boundaries and your hearts beat as one.

Keywords: you are written into the song of my soul, messages, divine feminine, leo, 02:02, 2323, libra.

#pick a card #divination #tarot #spirituality #tarot reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a pile #tarotcommunity #pick an image #tarot pick a card #tarot witch #tarotblr #first kiss #future spouse #love reading #st4rtar0t

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icyg4l · 6 days

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PAC: What Upgrades are Coming Into Your Life?

Hello beautiful people, so sorry for the delay on readings. I've been really distracted lol. But tonight marked the end of the $5 4/20 weekend sale. I am grateful for those who have purchased a reading. Now, if you would like to purchase a reading, please read my guidelines and let me know! (They will be regularly priced until another sale comes along). Now, this weekend’s PAC will be all about the upgrades that are coming in your life! Whether that’s in your career, home, family, finances, love, etc. We’ll find together! So without further ado, please pick your Megan baby. 🤭

Top Left-to-Bottom Right (1-4):

PIle One, I feel like things have been getting hectic in your life. I think that this is a group of people who can get easily distracted by the small things. A lot of you are going through a breakup/separation from someone that betrayed you or love bombed you. I can feel my throat tightening as I’m typing this. I’m sorry, Pile One but this is a blessing in disguise. I think that this will be a death/rebirth period for you. I am seeing snippets of the Hiss video, specifically when Megan is dressed in all silver. I think you will come out stronger than ever. When I say stronger, I mean you will be less tolerant with other people’s bullshit and having better boundaries. I feel like someone tried to dominate you and as a result, it ruined your self-esteem. I see you taking some time to yourself and realizing who the fuck you are. You need to know that things will get better. Anything that happens over the course of the next seven days is meant to happen, Pile One.

Cards Used: The Empress (RX), Prince of Cups, 7 of Swords, Strength, The Hermit, 3 of Swords (RX), The Magician, Temperance (RX), The Lovers (RX).

extras: “bovine”. playing the dozens. hbcu bound. 1H lilith. a full shopping cart. laughter.

Pile Two: If you suffer from insomnia, you will absolutely start to get better sleep. Pile Two, you’re such a smart worker. I know you don’t like to work hard, and you will be getting a reward for that. I see a promotion coming your way. If you have a boss that has an explosive temper, I see that this will happen within the next three weeks. Your life also seems chaotic like Pile Two. You also seem like the obsessive type. I feel like this is a pile full of nightowls as well. Part of your upgrade process will mean embracing your shadow side. I think that you have some trouble with other women (if you’re a woman), or having trouble embracing your soft side. It is okay to be vulnerable. I also see if you’re on the search for a new car, then a woman will co-sign a loan for you. It seems like you will be changing from the inside out. The longer it takes for you to address the issues that you have going on internally, the longer the results will come. I am seeing that when you finally decide to open up and be vulnerable, the physical changes will manifest. For example, if you want longer hair, your hair will grow two inches. If you want to change your life, change your mind Pile Two. And I’d recommend you look up the term ‘limerence’. Start making changes to become more grounded and less clouded by delusions, fantasies and looping thoughts about stuff that does not exist in your reality. It’s time to let them go, Pile Two.

Cards Used: 4 of Cups, Queen of Cups, The Chariot, Ace of Discs, 3 of Discs, The Devil, King of Cups (RX), The Tower, 9 of Swords

extras: listening to nightcore. “egoic”. meat market. fresh beat band. beauty shop (2005). picker-upper.

Pile Three: Your hard work is finally going to pay off. You’ve been obsessing over your work and dedicating so much of your time to it. It is finally going to receive some recognition because you decided to not give up on your dreams. As a result, I see that your dream lifestyle will be well-funded. If you’re an artist or a clothing designer, this will especially resonate with you. The amount of time that you spent on your passion will be appreciated by many eyes, Pile Three. If you’ve been having a hard time accepting someone for who they are, or if you have been struggling with your emotions in general, I see that you will get a handle on it. And also, if you’re looking for a vendor, you will find one! You are being called to continue to focus on your craft. I am channeling this interview of GloRilla where she says that she abstained from relations with men, partying and alcohol for sixty days before she blew up. Then FNF was released, and that marked the start of her mainstream journey. So, keep going baby!!

Cards Used: Wheel of Fortune, Strength (RX), 5 of Cups, Queen of Cups, 7 of Cups, Princess of Discs, The Devil, 3 of Discs, Temperance, The Star

extras: christina aguilera. spiders. a series of unfortunate events. award shows.

Pile Four: The only way that you can learn from your mistakes is if you actually implement the lesson into your life, Pile Four. I can tell that you’re stubborn. Once you really understand that nothing can change if YOU don’t move things around, you will know how powerful you are. Some of you may have a really thick (and attractive) accent. I think that you can use this to your advantage to make things shake for you. Pile Four, do you really know yourself? Like outside of the things that you do and have, who are you? It is time for you to do some soul searching, my love. It feels like I am talking to a shell of you. I think that the upgrades that are coming in will involve other people. You will find someone who helps you embrace your rawest, natural self. I also think that you will be interested in fitness and will find a workout partner. Investing in yourself physically will impact you emotionally. You do not need to go back to your old self because they’re gone. Take pride in this new you. I feel that your spirituality will strengthen as well. Your boundaries will grow stronger, and as this happens, you will lose more friends unfortunately. But I don’t think you’ll be affected by it. Overall, I feel like this pile will gain a lot of clarity and mental strength to start breaking generational curses and shedding old skin. You got this, Pile Four!

Cards Used: 8 of Cups, The Star, Death, 9 of Swords, 7 of Wands, The Fool, Temperance, Page of Wands, The Lovers

extras: “you smell good.” “be you.” jump by tyla. maison margiela. kick-ass. wwe.

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user2772636 · 3 months

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Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

Having to be in pairs for a group project, two people with mixed feelings work together to create a presentation. Going into eachothers houses is easy until a certain cat wants to play cupid. Feelings erupt, and miscommunication has to be endured. A soccer game in the rain might prove that Descamps listens more than he should.

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Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: bullying (poor pichon), boys being boys, very confusing feelings, angst bcs of achilles and patroclus (maybe even joseph and reader???), miscommunication in the enemies to lovers department, swearing

This chapter has references to The Song of Achilles book (ik its not the right timeline, but we have to do this for the angst so bare w me)

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Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say

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The scores of our exams are being published. I sit in my seat, eyes scanning the numbers and fingertips smoothing out the paper. Most of them are in the ranges of 12-16, which is good enough for me.

"As you know, this is a school where we like to experiment with new methods. Next week, we are going to try a new approach." I look up from my papers, interested in the proposal of something new.

"You're going to prepare a presentation, working in pairs. You'll be working with the classmate sitting next to you, and then you'll present your work in class together. And for a sense of free will, you can present about any subject. How does that sound?"

I look to the girl next to me. Her name was Louise. She's quiet most of the time and keeps to herself. I smile softly. She smiles back.

The teacher clears his throat, eyes on Descamps and Dupin. "You two, of which I already expect a chaotic presentation, will be paired with someone else." His eyes land on me and Louise. Please, no.

"Descamps and Pardine, Louise and Dupin. Please remember your partner." I internally groan, placing my head into my hands. I look to my side, already seeing Louise and Dupin waving to each other, Louise giggling. I groan again. I don't look at Descamps. He doesn't, either.

Pichon raises his hand. "What if we're sitting alone?" The class laughs. I look at Pichon in pity.

"Well, you can work with Ms. Sabiani." The teacher says in response.

"Look. Pichon is blushing. He's turned pink like a pig." Dupin says, and the class laughs again. Even Louise giggles. She likes him, it's obvious, but what is there to like? I roll my eyes.

"That's enough, Dupin." The teacher shouts at him, the smile on his face gone. Annick raises her hand.

"Do we really have to work in pairs?" She asks.

"That's the whole point." He answers. "And I'm warning you, half a pair's work will result in half the grade."

××《☆》××

As I walk down the stairs, I look up when I hear pigs oinking. I wasn't wrong. Descamps' group of friends are pigs.

When I spot Simone and Michèle in the bench under the tree, our usual spot, I make my way to them.

"Help me gain some decency to go up to Descamps and not punch him in the face." I groan as I sit on the bench with them.

"It's unfortunate for you. Our teacher could've picked anyone else." Michèle says, pity in her voice.

"Should I go talk to him now or later?" They don't answer because they see Descamps make his way towards us.

I fight the urge to start an argument with him. About anything, really. Just to get him to stay a bit longer. I clear my throat at the thought.

"Your place?" He says, now standing infront of us, hands in his pockets. I nod once, and he walks away.

"Thank god that was over quick." Something deep inside me knew I didn't mean that.

Jean Pierre walks towards us with a book in hand. I look at Simone with a teasing smile, but there's something in her eyes I can't really tell. Like she knows something.

"Here, this is yours." He hands Michèle the book. "I put it in my bag by mistake." Michèle thanks him. He walks away with a 'see you later'.

Michèle continues to complain to us about her grades. Simone sighs, mind floating away. I look at her confused. I'll ask her about it later.

I look towards Applebaum. We make eye contact, and I smile. He looks away, fear in his eyes. What's up with everyone today?

××《☆》××

In one of those rare moments, my parents are home for dinner. We sit in the dining table, enjoying our food.

"Someone's coming over tomorrow. I know you won't be here, but I thought it'd be better if you knew." I tell them, handing small bits of food to George.

"Oh? What will you be doing?" My father asks, cutting his food into smaller pieces.

"Group project. We'll probably just stay in my room." I pet George as he eats his food.

"Are we going to meet her even after the project?" My mother says, looking up from her food.

"He, actually. And no." This makes them pause, silence surronding the room. My father clears his throat.

"A boy? And both of you will be in your room?" He says, placing his elbows on the table.

I take time to process this. "Papa, no. It's not like that." I turn red in my seat. "Trust me, it's just a project. Nothing else."

"Of course we trust you. It's just, you know. You're a teen, and teens go through... stuff." My mother says, stuttering a bit. I cover my face with my hands.

"Mama, please don't make it weird." I groan.

"No, it's perfectly normal for your age. If you want, we can forget about it-" I cut her off.

"Yes, please. Forget about it." I cut my food aggressively, face as warm as my plate.

We stay quiet as we finish the rest of our dinner.

××《☆》××

"The league of nations, L.O.N..." I fade the rest of the discussion out, watching the way the sun rests on the trees leaves, the birds tending to themselves. Last nights conversation clouds my mind, and I catch myself smiling for no reason.

I sigh every time, biting my lip in my own embarrassment. I glance at Descamps. He's focusing on the lesson for once. Nothing will happen at my place, right?

He feels my gaze on him and gently turns his head. His eye meets mine, and there's a small quirk on the corner of his lip.

"Quiet at the back." Ms. Giraud calls out suddenly.

Descamps looks away. I purse my lips, something stirring in my chest. My breathing is faster, and I feel warmer. Have I gotten sick already?

Annick walks into the room, hair tousled and frizzy. Ms. Giraud shouts at her, and my ear drums are about to explode.

Ms. Giraud gives Annick detention, and with every word Annick said back, an hour or two more.

Ms. Giraud continues to piss me off every second of the day with her strictness and very clear jealousy towards Annick. She finally continues the discussion, and I (annoyingly) decide to finally listen.

××《☆》××

I wait right outside the gate for Descamps. He comes running to the gate but slows down when he sees me, acting like he wasn't just leaping to get here.

"Hey." He says, acting nonchalant. He even has his hand in his pocket.

"Hi. Let's get going." I keep my face blank as I lead the way to my place. We walk in silence, listening to our footsteps next to each other.

Once we make it to my flat's building, I go up the steps, stopping in front of my door and unlocking it.

We step inside, the flat looking warm with the sunlight entering through the windows. I lock my door and drop the keys on my kitchen counter.

"Your coat?" I reach my hands out. He throws his coat to me, the heaviness of it making me stumble. I scowl but hang it anyway.

"Head to my room. Down the hallway to the right." I say as I grab a few supplies from my father's office.

"Want me in your bed already?" He calls out once he's inside. I hear a yelp.

I run to my room. "Descamps, are you okay?" I ask worriedly. He stares at George.

"What is that?" He points to George, who's currently walking toward me. I bend down and pet him, planting a kiss on his head.

"This is George." I carry George and craddle him like a baby. I walk towards Descamps with the furball in my arms. I rock him slowly.

"You can touch him if you want. He doesn't bite." I smile at the orange cat, then look up at Descamps. He's staring at me with the most soft look I've seen him wear. My heart thumps in my chest.

He clears his throat, hand going up shakily to pet George. George purrs when Descamps pets him. There's now a smile on Descamps face, as warm as his stare.

I bite my lip at the proximity. I memorise as much as I can about him.

The way he was breathing, like he was on a bed so soft he could sink into it. The way he smelt like faded cigarette smoke and expensive cologne. The way his bones moved under his skin as he bent over to take a closer look at George. The number of times he's blinked, the number of times he's laughed under his breath.

I dive deeper into my trance as he looks up at me. The way he stared now is so different from the way he did all those times before. Like we knew something that we haven't acknowledged yet. Or chose not to.

Something falls in the kitchen, and we snap back to reality. My face warms up, the lighting from the windows making it clearer.

Descamps walks away from me, clearing his throat again. "The cat's ugly." This makes me snap my head to his direction.

"What did you just say?" My brows furrow, defensive of the cat sleeping in my arms.

He rolls his eye. "Nothing. Let's get the project started, I guess." I glare at him for a couple more seconds, then I gently place George down on the bed, excusing myself to get more stuff from my father's office.

When I'm halfway to my room, I hear whispering. I peek at the slit on my door, wondering what was happening behind it.

Descamps is petting George, whispering words as if he's hushing a baby to sleep.

My aura softens, and my heart bursts with admiration. I accidentally drop something and curse to myself. Descamps hears the thud on the floor and pushes himself away from George. George continues to sleep.

I open the door then close it gently. "Let's get started."

××《☆》××

"Do you have suggestions?" I ask Descamps. He doesn't answer, his head turned to the side. I sigh.

Before I could say anything, he talks. "What's that?" He nods to the book on my shelf. It was a copy of the story of Achilles and Patroclus, with a notebook strapped on the front.

"It's nothing important." I shake my head. He purses his lips in thought.

"Can I see it?" His question catches me off guard, his head finally turning to look at me. No one's ever showed interest in my books or notes. I stay quiet, then after a while, I nod.

He gets up from the bed and grabs the book. He takes the string that attaches the notebook to the copy off. He scans the back of the book and hums.

"We can base the project off of this, if you don't mind." He holds up the paperback and the notebook. I'm stunned in my place.

"It's really not that interesting-"

"It must be if you had a whole notebook dedicated to it." There isn't even a teasing tone when he said that. He meant it genuinely.

"Fine." I sigh, grabbing the notebook from his grasp.

"Good." "Great." "Amazing." "Piss off." "Whatever."

"Mind if you read it to me?" He says. "I have a feeling I'll understand better when you say it, since it's your work."

I nod, hesitantly. I opened the first page of my notebook. Most of the stuff I've written in it is a summary and a review of the book.

He leans back on my pillows. I let him. I started to read.

"Patroclus was a young prince, exiled from his kingdom for accidentally killing a boy, and was taken in by their neighbouring king, King Peleus."

George purrs as I pet him. I shift to a more comfortable sitting position. Descamps' eyes are on me.

"When Patroclus first saw Achilles, it was in a competition run by Patroclus' father. He described Achilles as if he was looking at a painting made with precision and grace." I flip the page. George walks over to Descamps' lap. I huff, ignoring it.

"When they met and officially talked, Patroclus thought he'd hated Achilles. Achilles and his beauty, his speed, his perfection. In the years that pass, they grow to be attached to the other." George meows. The meow that indicates he wants petting.

I pause my reading, and Descamps looks at me confused. "Why'd you stop?"

"George wants pets." Descamps makes an 'oh' sound and pets George. He meows again.

"Maybe he wants you." Descamps says, petting the fur baby on his lap. I sigh and lean in close to pet George. With the uncomfortable position, I shift to sit beside Descamps on the bed. I clear my throat and pet George. I continue to read.

"They knew everything about each other. What they'd prefer, like how I like the rain too much to cover it with an umbrella, but know I'll get sick without it. That's how the two worked. They knew every detail, every routine, every habit, every movement. A love you'd have to fight the gods for."

A page is flipped, smoothing out of paper echoes in the room.

"Achilles and Patroclus loved each other with every inch of their heart and soul. Quoting the book, Patroclus states, 'He is half my soul, as the poets say'. Along with the famous paragraph." My eyes switch to the next page.

Descamps shifts in his place, leaning back on the pillows, looking at the pages where I'm reading off of. I start to relax, leaning back, too. George purrs.

"I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."

I take a glance at Descamps, and he's already looking at me. George snores in his sleep, making the aura of the room warmer. More comfortable.

His eye dropped to my lips, and I could've sworn I was hearing a heartbeat as fast as the wind at fall. I glance at his, pink and soft, like a cushion ready for rest.

When we lean in, slowly, too slow, my heart drops as he pulls away and stretches. I furrow my eyebrows, a dread of realisation. He's been toying with me. I close my notebook and gather my things.

"Where are you off to?" He asks. I don't answer him.

"Hey," He grabs my arm. I take it back from him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." I say coldly. "I'll finish this project myself."

"What? No. This is a group project remember?"

"I can't keep doing this. You're too hard to work with." I stack the books and materials in my arms.

"We haven't even gotten anything done yet." He flops his hands in the air.

"Exactly. You're too distracting."

"What did I do? I've been quiet the whole time."

"Yeah, well, that's the problem. You're too quiet. You aren't suggesting things."

"What does that have to do with anything?" He raises his voice.

"Just shut up, okay? Just leave. I told you I'll finish the project by myself." I get up from the bed, heading to my father's office.

"But I don't get why you're suddenly mad!" He stands up, following me.

"You don't have to know. Just leave me alone, okay?"

"Fucking fine. You're being too stubborn anyways. Do all the work. Getting pissed off for no fucking reason." He grabs his coat from the rack, putting it on. He doesn't even glance at me, opening and shutting the door with a loud slam.

I even out my breathing. It was going fine. Then I think to myself, what was? Me and Descamps, going fine? I laugh at the thought. I hated that boy. I hated him with my whole heart. My mind travels to the notes I was just reading.

Patroclus had thought he hated Achilles in the start, too. I shake the thought out of my head, slipping against the wall to sit on the floor, knees to my chest.

I hear tapping on the floor boards. I look to my side to see George, meowing softly. I take a deep breath in, then reach my hand out to pet him.

I hate him. And I know I do. He lingers in my mind like a fog in the mountains. The way his aura had softened, his smile, his warmth. I hated the thought of him, but then he smiled, and like Achilles, his face was like the sun.

××《☆》××

Night comes, and I lay in my bed, windows slightly open for the wind to come through. I'm restless, not getting a blink of sleep. I'm halfway through the project already. If Descamps had helped, it'd take longer, I think to myself, trying to still feel angry.

I don't feel angry at all anymore. There's a sort of regret in me for pushing him away. But at the same time, it's what he deserved. We had leaned in, and I didn't even know what I was expecting. I should've expected him to pull away, but what was he going to do in the first place?

Was he going to whisper in my ear? If so, what would he whisper to me? Was he going to say something about how I write, how I speak? A thought so blurry pops up in my head, and I brush it off. But it felt warm, so safe, so soft. There was a scent stuck in my head as I reminisced on the thought, trying to figure out what I was thinking.

I fall asleep in the process, dreaming about the thought instead. Limbs touching, bending, adjusting. I taste cigarettes and strawberries. I smell smoke and expensive perfume. I feel something soft against my lips, hands cupping my face, my neck, my head, and my waist.

He felt warm, tall, and heavy against me. I hold onto the dream, relaxing.

××《☆》××

I wake up, sweat coating my skin. George sits on the window sill, the sun making him shine like gold. I sit up and stretch. I get off my bed and head to my bathroom.

My hair is messy, and I have a bit of dried drool on the corner of my mouth. I wash my face to give myself some energy. I take my clothes off lazily, tying my hair up and getting inside my shower.

Once I finish, I comb and fix my hair, head to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, grab my things for school, including the unfinished project, and head to the front door.

A stack of paper tied with string greets me. I furrow my eyebrows. There's no note. I squat down and pick it up. I instantly know who it's from.

It's an essay about Achilles and Patroclus, detailed and opinionated. Written on the last piece of paper, sitting at the bottom of the stack, it reads, "I bought a copy. Finished it for you."

I stood still, processing the words, flipping through the papers to double check if they're authentic. I let out a scoff of surprise. My head snaps to a nearby clock. I'm going to be late if I don't start walking now.

My feet carry me to the front gates of Voltaire, the familiar faces and light chatter calming me. I spot Simone and Michèle, and I make my way to them.

××《☆》××

Rain starts to fall. The rain always brought me comfort. The different sounds it made when hitting different objects, the way it sways with the wind, the smell it gives the grass after.

I lag behind Simone and Michèle as they make their way to the field. I look for my satchel, then remember I'd forgotten my umbrella. I curse to myself, finding the satchel. It felt heavier than usual. I look inside, then see a clear umbrella. I open it and twist it around, gaping in awe. There's a note in the bag. I open to read it.

"Don't get sick from what you love." The note said.

There's only one person I've told about my love for rain.

I head outside, hiding my red face once I see a drenched one-eyed boy. I smile to Simone and Michèle, spotting them seated on a bench. I glance behind me as I sit down, finding an eye already looking at me with a small smile. His smile drops, and he looks away when I catch him. I purse my lips.

We watch the match, getting my mind off of the boy with ash brown hair. Once the match finishes, we all make our way home. I look up, seeing the rain pattering against the clear umbrella. I smile, watching the water droplets slip off the plastic, hearing the pattering of rain.

××《☆》××

The next day, I repeat my routine. I thoroughly read through Descamps' essay, rewritting it to fit in with mine. I should be thankful, and I am, but Descamps is making my head hurt with the way he acts. I walked to school, going subject after subject, until our presentation finally came.

Earlier, I'd slipped him the script, tucking it in his bag. I hope silently that he's memorised it.

Annick and Pichon are presenting in front of the class. I smiled softly, impressed by the presentation, and refreshed with the dynamic of the two. If only things had gone differently with Descamps, we could've been good friends. But we aren't. I don't think we ever will.

Once they finish, our teacher calls me and Descamps to the front. My anxiousness radiates off my body. Simone and Michèle give me a reassuring look. I nod at them slightly.

My eyes meet Descamps, and we're standing at the front of the class. They're quiet, and my eyes scan all of them. Surprisingly, Descamps starts.

"Me and Pardine are going to present the story of Achilles and Patroclus and the debate of their relationship; romantic or platonic?" Descamps looks at me, his hand hovering at the small of my back for support.

I start, and faster than I thought, I finish the presentation. The room claps, as they do with the others. I glance at Descamps but see him already walking back to his seat. My smile dropped slowly, remembering I was still on his bad side, and vice versa.

I walk back to my seat quietly. I don't even hear the score because my mind is too occupied with the thought of him. Would we stay angry at eachother always? At the same time, it shouldn't matter. I hate him. Right?

I shake my head. I hate him, surely. I should. I dig deep in my head for a reason. Bullying Pichon and Michèle, toying with my feelings (feelings I'm not aware whether it's good or bad), the way he acts, and smells, and feels when he's near.

I fucking hate him. I really do. I hate him, I repeat in my head. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.

Then, like earlier, something inside me knows I don't mean it.

At the end of the day, I make peace with solitude. My mind wanders, and I notice that every time it does, they always end up with the face of a one-eyed boy.

Sure, Descamps gave me a finished essay for our project, and sure, he gave me an umbrella that was clear so I could see the rain. So what? I still hate him. Maybe just a little less now.

××《☆》××

End- Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say.

Next- Chapter four: Flashy Magazines

××《☆》××

End of chapter three. Rollercoaster of emotions this one. It's a bit shorter than usual because i took out a bunch of the scenes in the series to focus on the emotions of reader and hopefully u guys get what im trying to give. Thanks for reading, requests r open, and see u next chapter!!!

#joseph descamps x reader #joseph descamps #mixte1963 #michèle magnan #simone palladino #jean pierre magnan #alain laubrac #enemies to lovers #fanfic #reader insert #slow burn #x reader

212 notes · View notes

damned-punk · 2 months

Note

Valentines day Dating headcanons for Kid and Killer? 🤩💖💖💖

Kidd

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• Not the most romantically inclined, but would absolutely make sure to make the day special in a way he knows you’d love

• Instead of the usual chocolates and flowers, expect a handmade trinket or an album from your favorite band

• He’d quietly arrange a private dinner for the two of you, ensuring that the table has a spread of your favorite foods and desserts

• He gets embarrassed easily when it comes to intimacy so expect some awkwardly phrased compliments

• Also expect some uncharacteristically gentle touches and kisses that are packed with a soft affection that is often lost in his usual mannerisms

• He’d absolutely lean into the more physical implications of the holiday, perhaps looking to try something new in the bedroom or pleasure you in a way that varies from your usual pace

• At high risk of entirely forgetting about the holiday due to the usual chaotic antics of piracy but would feel horrible when he realizes he missed something that was important to you (you’d have him wrapped around your finger)

• After spending some very sweet one-on-one time together for the majority of the day, prepare to make room for a plus-one because there’s no way he’s leaving Killer to be lonely on a day that’s supposed to be spent with the people you love

• He’s confident, strong, and unwavering when it comes to being a Captain and pirate but he is such a nerd for you, he’s trying his best and would do anything to see you smile whether it be on this day or any other

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Killer

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• You’d wake up to breakfast in bed with a beautifully decorated card and the prettiest bouquet of your favorite flowers on your nightstand

• He’d arrange his day to be able to spend the maximum amount of time with you in private

• If there was something you’d been eyeing such as a trinket, cosmetic, or clothes, he’s already got it wrapped up and hidden under the bed to be opened at the end of the night

• Killer is a person who finds maximum pleasure in pleasing his partner and given the occasion, he’d be insatiable to the point that anytime he could get you alone in your cabin, you’d be serviced until your legs trembled against his shoulders

• He knows that it means a lot to you, so he’d do his best to spend some of your shared time together without his mask

• He’s embarrassed but there is a strong sense of freedom and comfort when you praise his features and revel in being able to admire him without anything blocking your view

• Killer is not at risk to forget about the holiday because he actually enjoys going through the motions of setting up surprises for you

• He would absolutely make Kidd’s favorite food for dinner as a small gesture for his partner, he wouldn’t ever leave Kidd out on a day that is supposed to be spent with people that he loves

• As the two of you relax in the evening, make room for a plus one because Kidd was invited to hang out and he’s always ready to irritate the two of you

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Kidd & Killer (Poly)

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• You’re in for a day filled with surprises and activities that are the perfect balance of your two lovers

• Killer would start the day with breakfast in bed for the three of you, presenting both you and Kidd with a gift that he knew you’d be happy to receive

• The first round of debauchery would take place following the sweet morning gesture, a soothing nap nestled between the two of them reinvigorating your strength for an afternoon spent hanging out with the crew

• After lunch, Kidd would pull the two of you into his workshop and present you with the trinkets he custom made to your respective tastes

• He’d be embarrassed when you and Killer dote on him for the sweet gesture, a great memory made as he threw meaningless insults while he grew redder and louder by the second

• Kidd would’ve enlisted your help (and several others) to take care of dinner so that Killer could take the rest of the day off, the dishes being a mixture of everyone’s favorites so that the entire crew could feel included

• The second round of debauchery would ensue when Kidd mentions he has an additional surprise waiting in your shared cabin

• He’d have an array of tools and toys scattered on the bed so that the three of you could experiment and change things up for some high intensity love-making

• Aftercare would be focused entirely on you with both of the big, menacing, scary men being soft, fluffy, and sappy just for you ♡

• You and Killer would give Kidd hell and ask why he can’t be this nice all the time which would prompt some playful banter to end the perfect day with your lovers

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#kid pirates #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #anime #eustass kid #killer one piece #killer x reader #killer headcanons #captain kid x reader #one piece headcanons #eustass kid headcanons #eustasscaptainkid

211 notes · View notes

captaincryolicious · 1 year

Text

how they take selfies with you!

itto, ayato, aether, childe, wanderer, venti, zhongli, alhaitham, chongyun, albedo, kazuha, heizou, xingqiu, kaveh, xiao, cyno (separately) x gn!reader

format ; headcanons

cw ; fluff, slice of life, implied modern au

content under the cut | masterlist

≡;- ꒰ ITTO ꒱

— lots of surprise selfies!

— as in, he'll drag you into his selfies when you least expect it, often resulting in pictures where you look either confused or startled while itto is smiling broadly.

— you always threaten him to delete them, but if course he doesn't. by now he has quite collection of such pictures and he finds them absolutely adorable just as much as he finds them hilarious.

≡;- ꒰ AYATO ꒱

— he likes to show you off!

— always has an arm around you while taking pictures together, simply because he likes holding you close but also because he wants to make sure everyone knows you're taken.

— every picture you take together is stunning, but what else do you expect when the handsome head of the kamisato clan and y/n take a picture together?

≡;- ꒰ AETHER ꒱

— the epitome of cuteness!

— he likes to take selfies with you to capture his favorite moments, for example when you two are out together on a date. also, the king of cute aesthetics, such as taking pictures while you're wearing matching flower crowns.

— acts like he hates it when his sister – whom you're also friends with – photobombs you, but in fact he's quite fond of the pictures he has of the three of you together.

≡;- ꒰ CHILDE ꒱

— goofy selfies!

— he takes tons of pictures with you, some of them very cute and romantic but most just downright silly, just like the chaotic pair you are. making funny faces at the camera, trying silly filters on snapchat and so on.

— you two are literally best friends and lovers at the same time, and it really shows from the pictures you take together.

≡;- ꒰ WANDERER ꒱

— not a big fan of selfies!

— so it's you who has to open the camera hehe. like the true tsundere he is, he'll turn away with a huff but when you beg him he'll hesitantly looks into the camera and lets you take as many pictures as you want.

— he's super pretty and photogenic so despite his aversion, the pictures always turn out great and your room is literally decorated with them.

≡;- ꒰ VENTI ꒱

— sneak selfies!

— he likes to take pictures with you when you aren't looking or paying attention, so he has tons of photos where he's smiling into the camera smugly while you are doing whatever in the background. he finds it funny and cute!

— whenever he shows you those pictures, you're surprised, no matter how many times it had already happened. "venti, i didn't even notice you taking this picture?"

≡;- ꒰ ZHONGLI ꒱

— so many date pictures!

— zhongli smiles fondly on every picture you take, happy to document the time you spend together. so especially on dates, he often asks you to join him as he opens his camera.

— cute couple pictures taken in your favorite teahouse, or while you stroll through the harbor of the town you live in.

≡;- ꒰ ALHAITHAM ꒱

— he secretly likes selfies!

— really, he acts like he doesn't care about them, even ging as far as asking you why you like them so much, but he is actually quite happy with every picture you take together – though it doesn't really show from his stoic expression.

— ever so rarely, your excitement to take pictures with him will make him smile, and if you're lucky you'll manage to capture that little smile of his on camera!

≡;- ꒰ CHONGYUN ꒱

— shy, adorable selfies!

— he's almost afraid to ask you to take pictures together in the beginning, but after you reassure him a few times that you'd absolutely love to, he'll grow more confident in taking selfies with you.

— just imagine the pictures you take together while you're sharing popsicles or cotton candy. literally the cutest couple selfies ever!

≡;- ꒰ ALBEDO ꒱

— not really interested in selfies!

— that is, until you introduce your polaroid camera to him. he likes the way it instantly produces physical copies of memories you make together, and suddenly you find him asking you more and more often to bring your polaroid camera with you.

— he has this fond little smile he only ever reveals to you and it looks so so so pretty on camera!

≡;- ꒰ KAZUHA ꒱

— the prettiest travel selfies!

— as much as you both like to take pictures of all the beautiful sceneries you encounter on your travels, you even more enjoy using the landscape as a backdrop for pictures you take together.

— always with one arm snugly around you, kazuha smiles widely and contently. no matter how beautiful the scenery behind you may be, you will always be the most beautiful to him!

≡;- ꒰ HEIZOU ꒱

— easy and playful selfies!

— "y/n, smile for me!" as he suddenly drags you closer and presses a kiss to your cheek. at the same time, you hear the camera snapping a picture, and although it's a little blurry because of the sudden movement, it's super cute! he does such things a lot. he also has a tendency to wink on camera, being the flirt he is.

— he likes taking pictures with you and will use every occasion as an excuse to take as many as he pleases, looking super handsome on camera.

≡;- ꒰ XINGQIU ꒱

— happy selfies!

— he isn't shy when it comes to taking selfies with you, and his camera roll is full of pictures of you smiling brightly, your cheeks pressed against each other snugly and cutely.

— so in general, your selfies are pretty clingy, and it's obvious that you are very happy together. also, he prints pictures of you together and uses them as bookmarks!

≡;- ꒰ KAVEH ꒱

— the selfie king, believe me!

— he likes to take selfies with you and does so pretty often. and boy, not only does he look super handsome on every picture he takes, you two look absolutely stunning together. he also likes sharing your selfies on his social media!

— lets you steal his hairclips and use them in your own hair and he HAS to snap a selfie and it becomes his favorite picture of you two together. he smiles widely because he finds you so adorable and his smile is so lovesick and gorgeous.

≡;- ꒰ XIAO ꒱

— has to warm up to selfies!

— really, at first he doesn't understand why you feel the need to take so many pictures with him. he's at your side whenever you want him to be, so what do you need them for? but as you do it more often and show him the results, he actually starts to like the idea.

— eventually, he'll open his camera more often, asking you to join him and secretly feeling happy when he sees the excitement on your face.

≡;- ꒰ CYNO ꒱

— super serious selfies!

— he doesn't take pictures with you often, but when he does his face is either neutral of super serious while he holds you close. as if he's glaring into the camera to tell everyone to stay away from you because you're his!

— just use one of his bad jokes against him or give him a kiss on the cheek, and you'll find the corners of his mouth curl up into a little smile.

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mitsuristoleme · 4 months

Text

“hey stupid, i love u”

cw: mild swearing, gn!reader, reader gets called ‘mom’, fluff fluff fluff

part 1 here but this can be read as a standalone

a/n: they need more domesticity. this is so self indulgent btw.g

tagging- @forest-hashira

You unlock the door as quietly as possible, and slip inside the house, making sure not to wake your family. It was still pretty early, only 9AM on a Saturday.

Your family. A chaotic mess consisting of your two boyfriends and four adopted (kinda) children. Neither you nor the boys thought you would be parents of four at 20, but you weren’t complaining. Smiling at the thought of them, you take off your shoes and put them into the shoe-rack.

Dumping you bag unceremoniously onto the dining table, you make your way to the bedroom you shared with your lovers, only to be greeted by an adorable sight as you enter.

Nanako and Megumi are sandwiched between Satoru and Suguru, Mimiko asleep on Satoru’s shoulder and Tsumiki curled up over Suguru’s head. A big cuddle pile of the people you love most.

If you were in a cartoon you would be a liquid puddle on the ground with hearts in your eyes.

Bringing out your phone, you take a million pictures before heading into the bathroom to clean up and change.

You take the quickest, quietest shower you have ever taken (normally Satoru and Suguru join you and well, that doesn’t end fast) and slip on one of Suguru’s hoodies and a pair of shorts.

You check the time on your phone, 10AM.

Deciding to make breakfast for everyone, you grab your dirty clothes to put in the laundry basket and begin making you way out of the room.

You’ve barely taken a couple steps when you hear shuffling from the bed and a hoarse little whisper of “Mom?”

Mimiko has moved away from Satoru’s shoulder and is looking at you, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Okay, fuck the laundry.

You drop your work uniform in a corner of the room and move to scoop Mimiko into your arms, pressing a kiss onto her head.

“Hi honey, you sleep well?”

She nods against you before mumbling a “missed you.”

“I missed you too, you menace,” you whispered, gently tickling her under her chin. “You wanna help me make breakfast, hmm?”

“Waffles?” she asks looking up at you with those pleading eyes you can never say no to.

You don’t have the heart to tell her you were gonna make oatmeal.

“Of course.”

In the kitchen, you seat Mimiko on the counter and put on your apron before you grab the child sized one with “Mimiko” embroidered on it and tie it up for her.

Mimiko adores that apron for no reason other than the fact that her dads got it for her on her birthday (of course Nanako has a matching one and of course they refused to take them off for a week, going as far as sleeping in their aprons).

You both get to work making the batter for the waffles. You put in the ingredients and mix as Mimiko ‘finishes’ the mixing.

While you’re washing and chopping the strawberries, your little chef chooses the playlist for that morning, one of Satoru’s making of course.

Distracted as you both are, you don’t notice Suguru enter the kitchen. At least not until he’s pressed up against your back, arms around your waist.

“Good morning, love,” he breathes into your ear, in that deep husky voice thats so fucking attractive it should be illegal.

“Hi Sugu,” you reply, heart thumping wildly in your chest. Even after three, almost four years of being together, the boys never failed to make you feel like a crushing schoolgirl.

You slice the last strawberry in half and turn around to face your boyfriend, looping your arms around him neck. He grins that devilishly handsome grin of his, and pecks your lips.

“Papa! I want hugs and kisses too,” pouts Mimiko, phone and playlist forgotten as she holds her arms out for her papa to embrace her.

“Of course my little angel.”

You look on fondly as Suguru dotes on your daughter, giggles emanating from their mouths. Watching your boys be soft for the kids made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

That was when Satoru walked out of the bedroom, eyes unfocused, his hair looking like he lost a fight with his pillow, and Nanako and Tsumiki under each arm. In a strange display of affection, Megumi was clutching onto his shoulders, legs dangling.

Satoru doesn’t seem to have noticed the fact that you’re at home. He deposits the kids onto the couch and makes his way towards the kitchen, whining about the loss of Suguru’s body heat.

“-can’t believe ya left me Sugu. No y/n either. M’heart is breaking-“

He’s in the middle of his sleepy tirade when he spots you, standing next to the sink, smiling.

“Hi ‘Toru.”

He immediately breaks out into a grin.

“BABYYYYY!!!” And you’re enveloped into a bone crushing hug.

You laugh as he lifts you off the ground and rocks you from side to side. He sets you down and begins peppering your face with kisses.

“I,” mwah, “Missed,” mwah, “You.” mwah.

Another arm snakes around your waist, Suguru pulling both you and Satoru closer. You notice from the corner of your eye that Mimiko has joined her siblings in the living room, the four if them crowded around an iPad.

You bask in your lovers’ hugs for a moment longer, before kissing their jaws and pulling yourself out of their arms.

“C’mon we still have four kids to feed,” you say in response to their forlorn expressions.

You peek your head out of the kitchen, calling out to the kids, “Kids! Waffles for breakfast! Dining table now!”

With a cheer and a yell of “You guys should all thank me for this” by Mimiko, the four children are seated at the table in record time.

Suguru forces you to sit on the dining table as he and Satoru make the waffles and serve them to everyone, with a heaping serving of whipped cream and chopped strawberries.

After breakfast, the girls enthusiastically remind you of the Girls’ Day you promised them that morning before you left. When you tell them to get dressed, the twins immediately break free from Satoru, who was showering them in affection (imagine his disappointment), and scamper to their room to choose their outfits.

Tsumiki shyly comes up to you, playing with the hem of her sleep shirt, “Mom, can you help me pick something to wear?”

These are the moments that make you realise how different life was for the four children before Satoru and Suguru found them. Tsumiki had never gotten the chance to go out much and you heart ached for the young girl.

You clear your throat to ease the tightness you felt and smiled at Tsumiki, “Of course ‘Miki! C’mon lets put together an outfit for you.”

As you get up from the couch, you share a glance with Satoru and Suguru, whose eyes reflect all the same emotions you had been feeling.

The last thing you hear before leaving is Suguru asking Megumi if he wants to go somewhere to compensate for the fact that the three boys were being left at home.

After helping Tsumiki pick an outfit, you send the girl off to shower before taking one yourself (the second consecutive shower without your boys, you note). You quickly do your makeup and slip into a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. Completely unable to locate your sweater (it was probably stolen by Satoru), you end up stealing Suguru’s leather jacket to wear on top of your t-shirt.

When you finally step back into the living room, Satoru greets you with a kiss on your lips and his signature cheshire grin. “You look good,” he says, ocean blue eyes looking you up and down appreciatively.

“Thanks,” you grin back, looping your arms around his neck.

“Can I come with?” he inquires almost pleadingly. “Baby its Girls’ Day.” “Yeah and?” “You’re not a girl Satoru!” “Bold of you to assume I’m not a woman.” “What?!?”

“I swear you two,” you hear Suguru sigh behind you. You look back at him, pouting. “‘Toru started it,” you complain.

Suguru laughs and pinches Satoru’s and your

cheeks, following it up by pecking your foreheads.

“You’re both such babies,” he chuckles as you and your white haired menace of a lover launch yourselves into Suguru’s arms.

“Your babies,” Satoru replies, cheekily.

“My babies.”

please don’t copy or repost my work without my permission

comments and reblogs are always appreciated

check out my masterlist

dividers by @/vanillekiss

banner linked here: https://pin.it/6aM3dal

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houpss · 2 months

Text

Relationships with SKZ

🧊–return to masterlist ¡! ✥

BANG CHAN+HWANG LILY (Chanly):

To begin with, she was deeply in love with him and Now she feels great affection for him, she literally cannot live without him for a second.

She literally fell in love with Chan because he was so kind to her while they were trainees.

Very cute and soft duet.

Lily helped Chan a lot with his self-esteem and self-acceptance, they did a great job together.

And Chan is always there when Lily has anxiety attacks or panic attacks, he's always there.

She is his regular guest in the Chan's room (more on that later)

Very popular pairing!!! (hyunlix, minsung and chanly almost three main ways )

She cried every time he said something bad to himself.

She takes him shopping, because Chan doesn’t really like this business.

The NOT funniest jokes that only they laugh at .

Mmm, she loves Chan's curls, plays with them every chance she gets.

bro...they're literally dating, don't you get it? THEY'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP

How did it happen?

Literally one phrase from Lily one cold and bad evening changed everything

Nicknames for the Chan (in phone):Channie wife 🌹

Nicknames for the Lily (in phone): Teddy Lily 🐻❤️

LEE KNOW+HWANG LILY (Limin):

Minho was extremely annoyed that Lily would be in a MAN group.

Constant joint training brought them closer, very close.

In front of the cameras, they tease each other and literally mock each other, but outside the cameras...

Outside of cameras and public life, they are together, they love each other

bro...they are like brother and sister. they love each other so much

Lily is very attracted to him

Dance duet. THEY DANCED THE TROUBLE MAKER (what Hyunjin and Minho danced)

Small acts of caring.

He holds her hand in public, this is the norm.

They watch anime or cook together (that's why they live in the same dorm)

So much sarcasm.

Lily mom sunidunidori.

A couple of volunteers and a couple of sincerity

Nicknames for Lee Know (in phone): cat lover 🐈‍⬛

Nicknames for Lily (in phone): annoying lady 👾

SEO CHANGBIN+HWANG LILY (Binli):

THEY BECAME FRIENDS RIGHT AFTER CHANGBIN JOINED JYP.

Lily can just walk up to him and start screaming and Changbin will scream back.

They eat together and always eat.

She makes fun of Changbin because of his height, and Changbin is indignant.

Changbin steals Lily's cookies.

the noisiest in the group and in the company.

Changbinie teaches Lily women's choreography.

Lily dies at the sight of his muscles.

"My little dwaekki is lives in the gym???"

They're just fun and noisy.

Sometimes they write song lyrics together.

Nicknames for Changbin (in phone):Changbin 🐽🐰

Nicknames for Lily (in phone):LILYYYY ❤️

HWANG HYUNJIN+HWANG LILY (Lyhyun):

We disliked each other a little before debut.

But this immediately passed when the survival show began.

So aesthetic and flirty together 🫦

Hyunjin has a collection of Lily's portraits.

She makes hairstyles out of his hair, but Lily's favorite hairstyle is TWO TAIL ON THE SIDE (I’m dying, girls)

Hyunjin doesn't like to be touched a lot, but she's allowed.

She protects him from all the hate 🥺🥺

So beautiful and their interactions are going viral on social media.

Lily often watches Hyunjin draw, it's just so cozy.

THEIR HANDS DIFFERENCE.. Hyunjin's arms are 20.5 cm, and Lily's are 16.5.

He kissed her once on the cheek at a concert (oh my god, how the fans love it)

"My world is your peace of mind, and I am your protection"

Nicknames for Hyunjin (in phone): Mr.Hwang

Nicknames for Lily (in phone):Mrs.Hwang

HAN JISUNG+HWANG LILY (Lisung):

These bro jokers of the group.

They both have mental problems...

They write sad lyrical songs together.

Sweet tooth and of course the leaders of the sunny trio.

He's so chaotic and she's calm.

There are paired rings and paired T-shirts, the participants consider their T-shirts to be cringe, but they like it.

A very noisy duet part 2

Lily Paints Jisung's Nails.

They walk together to refresh their minds and get back to normal.

Walking with dogs is possible!

High notes are their place of comfort.

They didn't communicate during their trainee days.

Nicknames for Jisung (in phone): Squirrel 🌙

Nicknames for Lily (in phone): Lily ily

LEE FELIX+HWANG LILY (Lilix):

HER LITTLE BOY LIX 🥺🥺🥺

completes the sunny trio.

UBUBUBU LILY IS VERY GENTLE AND CAREFUL WITH HIM.

they bake desserts together!

Felix arranges ASMR sessions for Lily.

She saw his abs and went crazy.

Literally two kittens.

Lily's soft voice and Felix's bass....

They have several covers and songs together and maybe stay will hear them.

She was very careful and gentle with him during her trainee days, because Felix was very shy and afraid.

HE IS HER SUNSHINE:(((

They're soulmates, okay?

The second most popular pairing is with Lily (Chanly is in first place, and Limin is in third)

Nicknames for Felix (in phone): Bby sunny 🥺🩷

Nicknames for Lily (in phone): Kitten soo 😼

KIM SEUNGMIN+HWANG LILY (Seungly):

Okay...he's a pain in her ass.

SHE BARKED AROUND HIM ONCE (he thinks she's weird)

Lily loves his vocals and his voice.

Seungmin mocks Lily, but he also knows how to care.

Seungmin teaches Lily to play baseball, but she is not a very good player.

He takes photos of her, because according to Lily, Seungmin takes the best photos.

Snarky #1

When she is anxious, he brings her some soft toy and leaves.

But then the boy always finds out how she feels.

DAY6 FANS

Let Seungmin smile so widely next to Lily

Nicknames for Seungmin (in phone): Don't pick up the phone

Nicknames for Lily (in phone): Lily bear

I.N+HWANG LILY (Lijeon):

Her sweet child!

But, I want to say that Jeongin is 23 (!) and he is such a protection and support for Lily, he loves her very much 🥺

They go to Busan together and hang out there

Jeongin's family considers Lily their daughter (problems in Lily's family)

Jeongin is so handsome and sweet, Lily loves his company

He repeatedly selected looks and outfits for her for some outings and she did the same for him.

Jeongin allows Lily to hug him WITHOUT PROBLEMS AND NOT LIKE WITH THE OTHER MEMBERS.

Literally helped him with his homework

They have a card (which all the Stays fight for) where they are hugging and they are wearing pale pink outfits

They watch dramas at night (Chan scolds them for this).

Nicknames for Jeongin (in phone): millionaire guy

Nicknames for Lily (in phone): beautiful bear 🐻🫂

#stray kids headcanons #stray kids x reader #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member #skz female addition #skz headcanons #skz female member #skz female oc #stray kids #stray kids added member #stray kids addition #fictional idol oc #fictional characters #kpop female member #female kpop idol #stray kids fluff #fluff

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theshireisburning-so-mordoritis · 4 months

Text

TELL ME YOU THINK ABOUT ME TOO

Part of the Seven Nights Of Sin - Series Three

Steven Grant x F!Reader (hints of Marc Spector x F!Reader) 18+. 9K. Friends to lovers with a shit ton of pining. Female masturbation. Oral sex (fem receiving). Unprotected shower sex. Steven being all soft and needy but also a little feral.

Prompt: "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?"

Requested by: @acrossthesestars , I am so sorry for how long this has taken me and I hope you enjoy it! 🖤

Their relationship was an odd thing Steven thought. Chaotic in the kind of way that not many would understand.

God, he just barely understood it himself after all.

It's him and it's Marc and it's you, all entwined, your lives like singular threads that were blown together and now lay impossibly tangled. Knotted so tightly that even if someone was to try and shear them apart, there would still be remnants of the others embedded in the one they tried to pull loose.

And then it went beyond that.

There were the separate tanglements that branched from the heart of the whole one. Himself and Marc. Marc and you. You and him.

He knew that there were differences - that there was something more between you and Marc. Another level to the relationship that Steven yearned for but felt would be pushing his luck to try and approach with you after you had already given him so much.

When he wasn't in control he sometimes saw fragments of it, glimpses that made him flush and his chest tighten, desire clashing with the jealousy that sat like an uncomfortable weight in the back of his throat. He saw you through the thinning glass between the alters, saw your lips part around a throaty moan that hit him like a train, the slopes of your bare skin, sweat slick and gleaming, as your back bowed in pleasure.

He was always quick to turn away before he saw too much, squeezing his eyes shut to give you your privacy and to chastise himself for those feelings that were steadily slipping further out of his already shaky control.

He was arguing against himself, the part of him that craved more than he should, stern in the reasoning that he should be grateful to have you in any capacity. To have your friendship and your care, your protectiveness over him and the way your eyes glowed with interest, gaze fixed on him and smile soft, warm and encouraging, no matter what subject he chose to ramble on and on at you about.

And if that wasn’t enough to make him hold his tongue then the insecurities that clung to his bones and his insides - his poor lovesick heart - in strings of black tar, were certainly more than willing to do the trick.

Because why would you want him like that when you've already got someone like Marc? Someone so clearly your equal.

Would you be offended by the idea of him as a partner - of being with both of them?

What if he ruined things entirely - made things weird and you leave? Plunging your hand in that mess of threads and ripping yours away, splitting fibres that burrowed beneath his skin and left him forever haunted by the ghost of you.

It didn’t matter that Marc had tried to tell him otherwise, gave Steven as many hints as he could without revealing the extent of your feelings because that was your business and not his place. His voice growing exasperated the longer that Steven refused to do anything about it.

"Do you really think she would put up with all of this, if she didn't love both of us?"

Yes.

No.

Bloody hell, he didn't know.

It’s a question he didn't have an answer to and so he chose to ignore it completely.

Buried it alongside the too fast flutter of his pulse beneath his skin when you drifted close, when your hand was threading through the mess of his curls. Gentle fingers tilting his jaw, stroking the fragile skin beneath his eyes as you checked for signs that he wasn’t sleeping as well as you’d like before you mumbled out a happy sounding noise, pleased when you found none.

He swallowed it back and pretended it didn't burn all the way down. Like the thought didn’t feel like it would burst him to flames the same way it did when he woke to find you wound around his body, legs tangled with his and your breath, soft and warm, against his neck.

The only reaction you gave when realising you had fallen asleep with Marc and woken with Steven, being the shy smile that crept across your lips as you gazed up at him, arms making no move to let him go, to push him away and create distance.

He didn’t know what else he was supposed to do.

He was in over his head.

It was after a fight that it happened.

They returned to the quiet of their hotel room, heads down and bodies tucked in on themselves as they passed through the plain reception and the corridors with their aged, peeling wallpaper until there was the relief of the door clicking shut behind them.

They were stained with the after effects of their violence. Blood splattered jaws and rust beneath their nails, the collar of Steven’s sweater torn wide, slit at the abdomen from where he was stabbed before he’d remembered to summon the suit and when he looked at you, there were already bruises blooming. Creeping across your skin - the swell of your cheek - before his very eyes, muddied shades of navy and lavender that made him wince and his hands twitch.

You smiled when you caught it, all easy charm, a sweet, placating thing that softened the sharp edges that still clung to your features after a mission. “I’m fine Steven.” You told him gently. “Nothing a shower and some bandages won’t fix anyway.

He nodded, a little unsure as always, trying to offer a simple smile back because Steven’s learned it’s best not to hover when it comes to you. To treat you like you were made of glass just because you were something infinitely precious to them. That you could easily grow frustrated at the way Marc loomed like a pissed off drill sergeant and Steven fretted like a frantic, mother hen when they saw you hurt all because you lacked an ancient god fused to your bones and hooked in the meat of your soul.

Instead he slipped into the bathroom and cleaned away the blood that itched at his own skin, his stomach only faintly twisting this time as he watched it swirl pink in the water before slipping down the drain.

He was getting better at it, he realised belatedly. It didn’t feel like he’d lose whatever food he had managed to get down that day anymore when he was faced with the evidence of what he had done, like his stomach wanted to turn itself inside out and he needed you to scrape the sweat-damp droop of his curls away from his clammy forehead. Mouthing soothing sounds into his shoulder as he groaned and coughed up his guts.

Once he was dressed in something that didn’t look like it’s seen the inside of a shredder he went out again.

It was routine by now. Him or Marc would go in search of food - flaky pastries dusted with cinnamon or soaked in syrup. Steaming pasta in rich, silky sauce with thick slices of buttery garlic bread. Tacos. Gyoza. Earl grey cake from the bakery you passed on your way into town.

Anything you asked for because it was the only way you ever really let them take care of you, only huffing slightly when they handed you the painkillers that you absolutely always argued you didn’t need if they didn’t bribe you first.

And by the time they typically got back you would already be lounging in the bed. Hair slightly damp from the shower, wounds neatly bandaged, and looking far too warm and soft than Steven’s poor heart could handle, sunk into the plethora of mismatched pillows.

It always made his heart flutter in his chest to come back to you waiting, to step into the room and find your eyes shining over at him, your hands already outstretched, making grabbing motions that had him chuckling as you beckoned him towards you with the food. Head tilting in the direction of the box tv as you teased him with a grin. “It’s about time, there’s an old crime documentary about to start, I thought we could watch whilst we eat.”

Which is why it struck him as odd when he returned and there was no sign of you. The bed still neatly made. The blank screen of the tv staring back at him, projecting nothing but his own reflection, when his gaze flicked to it.

He relaxed when he registered the faint sound of running water - the repetitive pattering of spray hitting the tiles. Shook his head at how his body had immediately drawn tight with anxiety all because you weren’t where he had expected you to be. The breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding blowing past his lips in a rushed exhale at the smell of your shampoo, fresh and slightly sweet, comforting in a way he couldn’t explain, seeping beneath the bathroom door.

Everything’s fine. She’s fine. You were just worrying over nothing.

But then he heard it.

His name.

Or at least, he thought he did. There was a few beats of silence when he stopped, quietly placing the bag of food onto the side as he strained to listen. Nothing.

It was maybe his imagination, he thought.

Maybe you had been mumbling to yourself, singing beneath your breath like he knew you liked to do when you thought no one could hear. He went back to sorting the food with another shake of his head, a mutter to himself that he was growing far too paranoid as he pulled out the containers and the plastic utensils before reaching over to the little tv to find something you might be interested in watching when you eventually did come out.

And then he definitely heard it again.

A touch louder, clearer that time than the last, his heart dropping to his stomach at the sound. It was a pained thing - a low moan that cut to a whimper and Steven almost completely lost his head.

Were you hurt? Had he left when you needed him? What if you’re trying to hide the seriousness of one of your wounds, bleeding out in there because of your stubborn refusal to worry him?

He called to you once. A second time that was steeped in a dizzying panic, and when there was no response again all thought went out the window. He was lunging for the door to the bathroom, sweat-damp hand fumbling with the handle before he nearly wrenched the damn thing off despite Marc’s suspiciously calm voice in his head telling him ‘Steven wait..it’s not what you think-’

He almost snarled at that, bristling in disbelief that Marc could be so unbothered when Steven’s fear had snapped to life in an instant to clutch him by the throat. There was an anger he wasn’t quite used to rushing through his chest, burning vicious and ugly, charring his bones as he spat back at the other man, “If you think I’m going to ignore the fact that she’s seriously hurt then you’re fucking mental, what is wrong with you!”

Marc didn't respond, at least not with words - there was a weary sigh that seemed to say ‘suit yourself’ and then silence. Good.

He refused to pay him mind, to focus on anything else other than you, getting you the help you needed, and when he finally flung the door open, the noise of it hitting the wall almost deafening in the silence of that tiny room, everything suddenly stumbled to a halt as what he’d just walked in on seared itself upon his brain. Burning bright behind his eyelids when he slammed them shut, a hand slapped over them for good measure.

Because you were all bare, steam-slick skin. Glittering with the droplets of water that caught the light and shone as they trailed down your body in a way that made the image of him catching each one with his tongue flash across his mind, unbidden, entrancing him until his gaze had followed a shimmering path to where he'd discovered the hand buried between trembling thighs. Your fingers that halted their quick, jerking movements as your pretty features morphed from pleasure to stunned surprise.

“Oh god - bollocks - I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-"

He was rambling. Stammering on his words like his tongue was too thick for his mouth, choking on the billows of steam he was breathing in as his face flushed with the sickening kind of heat that came with pure mortification and good fucking god, what the hell was he doing still standing there?

“I’m sorry,” he continued, rooted in place despite every fibre of his being telling him to bolt. It burst out of him almost, jumbled and tumbling, all frantic to make you understand. “My name- I heard you say my name and I thought… it sounded like you were hurt and I know you like to handle your injuries alone but it sounded bad and I thought you could be bleeding out or dying and I just couldn’t–”

You were wrapping gentle fingers around his wrists before he could talk himself breathless, into an early grave with the way his pulse was hammering beneath flushed skin. Your voice fell even softer, barely rising over the sound of the water that was still pelting against the tiles, as you told him, “Steven, calm down. Look at me, it’s okay.”

He wanted to resist, unwilling to face the weight of your disappointment, the shame that would only double tenfold when that harsh glare of yours undoubtedly pinned him with it, but he found himself compelled by a featherlight touch at his jaw, the arc of cheek, sweeping the damp curls from his eyes just as they fluttered open.

Steven gulped as his stare settled on you, closer than he'd expected you to be, now wrapped up in a thread-bare towel that hid only enough skin for you to be considered decent but had him sending a prayer of thanks for to any god that would listen anyway. He didn’t think he’d survive it otherwise.

Not with the way you were actually looking at him. Touching him.

He was already having trouble breathing properly, his stomach still flipping from the memory of you, your closeness to him now when your soft moans were still echoing around in his head.

Steven, Steven, Steven.

His heart had yet to return to its normal pace and as it stuttered and beat itself violently against the cage of his ribs, he wondered if it was possible to die from something like this. From the desire and longing trapped and blistering beneath his skin, a wicked hot thing that was trying to burn him from the inside out.

It certainly felt like he could.

Your expression grew anxious whilst you simply watched one another, gaze troubled and brow knit into a soft frown. Your lip drawn between your teeth in a way that made him have to swallow down the urge gently tug it free with his thumb, to soothe away the rawness with soft touches. An even softer kiss.

Gods, he was pathetic.

Even when he was expecting you to be angry at him, for that gentle calmness to drop any second to reveal disgust, he still couldn’t stop himself from thinking about touching you, kissing you. Loving on you. He wanted to shake himself, to rub away the ache in his chest that worsened as your lips parted and he braced himself for you to tell him you couldn’t be around him after this.

“It’s not you who should be apologising, Steven.” You told him instead, voice tinged with guilt, a hint of embarrassment. Nervous in a way he’d never seen before. And when your eyes dropped briefly to where your hands were still cradling his own you missed the way he blinked at you in stunned confusion.

“I shouldn’t have been doing that - thinking about you like that - definitely not when you could hear…shit- I’m so fucking sorry you heard it and saw what you did. I get it if you don’t feel comfortable around me and you need a break or something, fuck - is that something you would want? Do you want me to go?”

Steven didn’t even know what to say. His expression had morphed into something utterly dumbfounded. His brain screeching to a halt at your apology - your confession?

It was spinning around inside his skull like a carousel, all bright flashing light and the swelling tinkling of fairytale music. Because surely it couldn’t be real right? He’d not really heard what he thought he had, he’d not heard you admitting that you think about him.

Maybe he’d been knocked out during the fight and this was a dream? He almost found it easier to believe.

Except for the fact that in his dreams he didn’t have Marc’s voice in his head - seething with frustration. He wasn’t being yelled at to say something. Say anything. He wasn’t getting stressed out by the irate stream of demands mixing with his own rapidly firing thoughts until they all muddled into something that felt an awful lot like the oncoming of a migraine.

He wanted to snap at Marc to be quiet for just five bloody seconds but then he was raising his voice again - more worried this time - and it cut crystal clear through the rest of the noise. Sharp enough for Steven to finally understand what the other man had been desperately trying to snap his attention to.

‘Jesus fucking christ Steven, she’s going to leave! She thinks you don’t want her - SAY SOMETHING.”

And Marc was right. You had drawn away from him, dropped your hands from his cheeks and tucked them into your sides, arms crossed over your chest like you were shielding the vulnerable parts of yourself you’d only just worked up the courage to expose.

Curling into yourself in the face of what you perceived as rejection.

He watched in a throat-tight panic as you nodded solemnly and made to squeeze past him, reaching for the door that had swung back closed behind him from the force with which he had thrown it open.

It was the brush of you against him that startled him back to life - a smack of reality cracking across his bewildered face that told him you were about to walk out of that door, out of their shitty hotel room and straight out his life if he didn’t stop you.

Steven was whirling around before his mind could even register having told his legs to move. He caught at your wrist with a shaky hand , the touch of it feverish against your skin that had rapidly cooled once outside the heat of the shower - goosebumps rising beneath his fingertips despite the balmy air that swirled around them.

You turned, fingers still grazing the door handle, and looked at him, wide eyed and apprehensive, unwillingly hopeful, and it was enough to make the muscles in his throat unlock. Words bubbling up and past his lips before he could even consider if they were the right ones.

“Did you mean it?” He rasped. “ You think of me when you touch yourself?”

There was silence for a second, maybe two, and by the way you sucked in a breath - lips parting as you stared at him - he suspected the question had been the last thing you expected to be asked.

It was agony to stand there and wait and Steven tried his best not to let it show, tried not to breathe because every inhale was drenched in you.

The scent of your shampoo and your body wash and your breath fanning across his lips when he subconsciously leaned closer. The weight of his heart that wasn’t really his anymore, hadn’t been since he met you, sat on his tongue. Ready to topple along with the desperate plea he was fighting to keep clamped behind his teeth.

Please. Please tell me you think about me too - that you want me just as much as I want you.

And then, “I did,” you whispered, soft and hushed like you were worried if you spoke any louder it would ruin whatever was happening between you, “I do.”

He surged forward and kissed you then. Both of you colliding with the door with the force of it, his lips crashing against yours like the world would spin off its axis if he didn’t have his mouth on you. It was a little clumsy but it still made your breath catch in your throat, made your body melt into his and your hands fly to clutch at the slopes of his shoulders as your surprise dissolved into something hungrier, the sensation of his mouth moving over yours dragging you under.

It wasn’t a sweet, soft thing like Steven had always imagined kissing you would go, all romantic like pretty sunsets and doves flying, a choir singing in the background as he tenderly cradled your cheeks in his hands.

It was tongue and teeth, months of repressed yearning bursting free and swallowing him whole, demanding that he devoured in turn. Making everything a little messy, touched with desperation. Frantic.

He let you part his lips, let you flick your tongue, quick and dirty, against his own and lick the needy groan from his mouth that followed until he was breathless and his knees threatened to buckle. A hand dropping to your waist to palm at the curve of it, fisting tight at the cotton towel, and the other sliding from your cheek to grasp a handful of the hair at the back of your head. Both meant to keep you locked to him just as much as it was supposed to keep him grounded.

Steven felt greedy with it, braver than he’d ever been with every little moan that slipped from your lips to his for him to swallow down and when you finally pulled back an inch gasping for breath, lips parted and expression looking entirely kiss-drunk, he felt like he’d found heaven.

His field of reeds, in the way your eyes were shining.

The way your fingers trailed up his neck and tangled in his curls to keep him from straying too far.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, voice lovesick and bleeding awe, painting your mouth with a sparkling grin as he pressed each word to your lips when you tugged him back down to kiss him again. “More beautiful than anyone or anything I’ve ever seen.”

You sighed into him, the hand in his hair tilting his head so you could kiss him deeper, a little more demanding before your lips slipped to the corner of his mouth, his chin, his jaw, sliding down his throat to suck a bruise at the skin before dropping a sweet kiss over the mark that made his hips buck against you.

It had a groan tearing through Steven’s chest when you pressed back, all silky, steam-damp skin and barely any material between you that suddenly felt that much less with the way it was clinging to you both.

“Steven…please.” You breathed.

And gods, you sounded just as needy as he felt.

So he hitched your leg high up at his waist and rolled his hips a little harder, a little more deliberate, drawing back just enough that he could watch how your lashes fluttered and your mouth dropped open, trying his best to take note of the exact angle and pressure that made you keen so he could do it over and over again.

He could feel how wet you were, the bare heat of you soaking into his jeans, pressed tightly against where he was achingly hard beneath the denim and Steven felt himself twitch at every gorgeous sound that poured past your lips - at the way you had snuck you hand between your two bodies without him noticing to palm at the thick outline of his cock.

It made his jaw go slack from the pressure, brain fuzzy from the bolt of pleasure that skitted down his spine when you squeezed him just right and then he was curling himself over you, burying you into the door and mouthing sloppy kisses and obscene praise into the skin of your neck whilst he rocked his hips.

He forced himself to bite back a whine when you pushed him back an inch, extracting yourself from his grasp so you could stand before him properly, eyes glossy and a touch wild, all panting breaths as your fingers curled around the hem of his shirt and tugged.

“Need to feel more of you.”

And then you were yanking it over his head, throwing it somewhere to be forgotten about whilst you pressed your hands into the warmth of his chest and made a greedy noise of appreciation that threatened to make his heart burst, a groan rumbling in his throat in response when you dragged your nails ever so lightly across his stomach and down to the waistband of his jeans.

His hands found yours then. Stopping them from popping the button beneath your fingertips, and when your eyes shot to his, the beginnings of the soft frown that shadowed them melting into something akin to surprise once you caught sight of him, he wondered if you could read the desperation that he was sure was plastered all over his face.

Because it wasn't that Steven wanted to stop that had him catching at you.

It was the utter assurance that if you got your hands on him he wouldn't last a fucking second that made his voice hoarse and his own hands tremble as he all but begged.

"Tell me more of what you think about… tell me what you want."

And Steven didn't think he'd ever forget the way you looked at him then, eyes darker than he'd ever seen them, hungry. Lips kiss-swollen and parted as you sucked in a sharp breath. Looking so fucking sinful that it had him swallowing down a choked moan.

You looked wrecked by his words.

By him.

He was almost embarrassed by just how close the sight drove him. There was a swell of something unforgivingly hot behind his ribs, searing in his stomach and his veins, all liquid gold and white flame, and he couldn’t resist re-capturing your mouth in a kiss that echoed just how helplessly he was affected by it all.

You drew his hands up whilst his lips were busy curving over yours, pressing them to the place where the towel lay knotted against the warm flush of your chest and when he groaned at the implication, the way the material came that little bit looser at the slightest touch, you took advantage of his distraction to skim your mouth across his cheek and to the delicate curve of his ear.

“I want you to take it off, want you to touch me” you murmured, breath hitching when he obeyed with quick fingers, worn fabric slipping away in a soft rush the same way his own breath exited his lungs. “Please.” Added like it was possible he would even think of saying no, like his hands, large yet reverant, weren’t already exploring. Pulling shudders from your body with every light graze of his fingertips. “I think about it all the time.”

Steven was a goner. Utterly devoted to bending to every whim that you had, to acting out every thought that had popped into your head from whenever you had begun to want him until right then. He wanted to know it all.

How could he not be when you were reacting to him so beautifully?

Your fingers had left his to wander long ago so you could twist them into his hair instead. Using your hold to crush him into you further and kiss him breathless when he touched somewhere that made you arch, to tug just a little meanly at the soft strands when he lingered on his path to where you were apparently growing impatient for him, and by the time he was tracing the crease of your thighs you were both wound achingly tight, panting into each other’s mouths.

He matched your moan when he finally slid his fingers through your folds, throat tight and something like pride flaring deep in his chest at the soaked heat he found there. At the soft, broken noise you made when he pressed gentle circles over your clit.

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered against your lips. “Tell me.”

Tell me what you like. Tell me what feels good. Tell me exactly how you picture it so I can give you everything you want.

Tell me, tell me tell me.

“Fuck, yes, more– please - don’t stop.” You rushed out, voice strained but he’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t the prettiest Steven had ever heard it. Absolutely hypnotising and he was under its spell without question, ready to worship at your altar in any way you deemed fit.

He kissed you with heavy-lidded eyes and open-mouthed, lips catching at yours in the briefest bursts because he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the way your chest heaved as he slipped a finger inside you, a second.

The way your own stare glazed when you told him just how much pressure to use whilst he curled his fingers and had you choking on the words, clenching around him before you could even finish.

You were feverish in his arms, mewling and arching as he picked up the pace and Steven almost lost his head at the state of you, trying his hardest to not bite his lip bloody when every flex of your hips into his hand had it pressing against his own need. He allowed himself to rock into you just once and then hastily pulled back as the pleasure burned white-hot, sliding his thumb a little firmer over your clit when you squirmed and whined at the loss of him.

“I know, I know– m’sorry love.” He gasped, breathless, chest tight and voice shot. “You feel so fucking good– I can't–”

You would be the death of him, he was sure of it. His hands shook, fingers curling around the nape of your neck in an attempt to hide it, and there was this unfathomable want clawing at his insides so savagely that he could hardly move without the friction of his jeans threatening to send him over the edge.

Bloody hell, you had him so fucking desperate he could scarcely think.

You both trembled as his lips ghosted across your cheek, each breath hot in your ear, as his voice quivered. “What else– what else do you need from me?- I’ll give you anything you want, darling, please.”

He barely registered the knock of your head falling back against the door, the whisper of a curse slipping past your lips, because at his words you had clamped tight enough around the twist of his fingers to make him shudder. Lashes fluttering at the way your nails bit deep into the muscles of his shoulders as the slick sound you being fucked on his hand grew over the roar of the shower.

“I- I don’t- Steven, oh fuck.”

Maybe that’s what did it. The way you were so ready to fall apart for him, all pretty and messy and pleading something sinful for more, more, more. Maybe it was the way the evening light peeking in from the tiny window had begun to turn into shadows, hiding the way his cheekbones were swept with pink better than the clouds of steam ever could.

Or maybe it was the fact that every time his name dripped off your tongue it made him feel so fucking wanted that he was delirious with it, his heart full and shining golden as you peeled back each of those strings of black tar insecurities that had choked the beating flesh for far too long.

Whatever it was, there was suddenly a new found confidence that burned through his veins, one that took every dirty thought swirling in his head and made him prepared to do them all. To give you anything you wanted, regardless of whether you were actually capable of forming the words for yourself.

There was no missing the blaze of your stare caught on his lips as he spoke after all.

Oh.

“Do you want my mouth?” Steven asked hoarsely against your throat. “Is that something you've thought about - you want me to taste you?”

He barely waited for your desperate nod and then he was gone. Dropping to the floor and ignoring the flash of pain that the cold tile spears through his knees as he buried his face between your soaked thighs.

The first flick of his tongue made your breath catch. The second had you twisting your fingers in the silk of his curls. A third had you tugging at him hard enough that Steven whined into you, the fingers that were dug into the meat of your thighs slipping to your ass to press you to him tighter, his hips thrusting against nothing whilst you bucked against the searing heat of his mouth, utterly uninhibited.

The sight of it was maddening, it was divine.

He still didn't quite believe this wasn't a dream.

There was sweat beading at your hairline - glistening along the column of your throat, the valley between your breasts. He watched the way your free hand trailed the softest path to one of them and squeezed, felt the way your body reacted to the added sensation in the flutter of your walls around his fingers. Squeezing tighter, tighter, tighter, as he rubbed at the soft patch of tissue until your thighs quaked around his head and you grew liquid.

Voice thread-bare when you whimpered that you couldn't take much more, that you were oh so close and please don't stop.

He went to flame then. To desperation and insanity and burning, searing need to devour you whole and drink you down until he either drowned or you had nothing left to give.

And just like you begged him to, he didn't stop until you spasmed and gushed around his fingers. Didn't stop when the call of his name cracked and broke as your voice gave out whilst he licked you through the violent crest of your climax until it's dying breaths and your body fell slack into the door. Propped up between the paint-chipped wood and Steven’s flushed body shoved tight against your own.

He didn't stop until you jerked in his hold, gasping and pleading, your fingers eventually releasing their tense grip in his hair to slip down to his chin, tilting it. Away from your swollen cunt as he was made to look up at you.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You laughed weakly, stunned gaze roving over every inch of him as you tried to catch your breath, and he wondered if he looked as wrecked as he felt before you. Wild haired and panting. On his knees with his eyes dazed and face coated glossy with you.

“I'm sorry,” he rasped, not bothering to even try and appear like he was very sorry at all, “you just taste better than I ever dreamed you would.”

Your eyes glazed a little at that, a dopey little smile playing at your mouth with it, as the first tendrils of hunger crept back into your expression alongside the tender amusement. “Fuck, Steven - who knew you were such a smooth talker?”

He laughed, a bright burst, cheeks kissed pink with the heat of your words and the slightly smug feeling of satisfaction that rumbled through his chest as he watched you glow with pleasure before ducking his head.

“I think that's all you, darling. I can't help it - not with the effect you have on me.” Steven mumbled, a soft and embarrassed grin tugging at his lips even whilst they trailed high over your shin to the crease behind your knee - rising up, up ,up to explore the warm skin of your inner thigh as his fingers swirled delicate little patterns at your ankle.

He couldn't stop touching you, couldn't feed the ache fast enough that came with needing to do it more than he already was.

And when his other hand swept the length of your leg to stroke over your belly you made a playful grab for it and brought it to your lips, eyes shining down at him at the way his lashes fluttered and his expression turned smitten before you tugged at him. Pulling him up your body until his jeans were scraping at your skin and his mouth was surrendering once more to yours in a syrup sweet kiss that burned deeper, more feverish, the longer it lasted.

Steven let you wind around him, let you urge him closer and closer until he was crushing you against the door at your back- wood slippery with condensation.

He let you roll your hips into his own and finally allowed himself to chase the pleasure with you as it renewed its intensity, let the thick outline of his cock rock against you until you were groaning into each other's mouths. Hands knotted in his hair and pearl-white teeth grazing the plush of his lip when you drew back to murmur.

“I want you inside me– want to make you feel good. Please, let me show you the effect you have on me.”

It sent a shock through him - ripped a low, guttural moan straight from his lungs that was followed by a heat-soaked curse that you took from him just as readily as you had everything else he'd given so far.

He didn't even blink before asking. “Can you say that again?”

You licked your lips and grinned, breath stuttering as he continued to move against you, fingers digging hard into the meat of your ass whilst you clung to him. “I need you inside me or I'm gonna lose my mind, it's all I've thought about for months - the way you'd feel- how you'd fuck me- oh gods.”

Another desperate noise. “Fucking hell. Again. Please.”

This time he didn't try to stop you when you reached for the last article of clothing keeping his body separated from yours.

There was the sharp clink of metal as you tore your hands from his hair to wrestle with his belt, your fingertips slipping over the leather whilst you fought to tug it free from the loops of his jeans before it fell to the tiled floor with a quiet thud and a clank.

And then you were pushing his jeans down just far enough until he was able to shakily kick them off. His heart in his mouth as he straightened, utterly naked before you apart from the shadows that slanted over his skin.

He felt a flicker - the ghosts of his insecurity passing over his face before he could blow them away like cobwebs- and prayed that you wouldn't notice. That you wouldn't mistake his hesitation for something else and even consider it to be directed at you.

But instead it seemed that you understood. Your hands found his jaw and you drew him into a kiss that ached. A lovely, bruising thing that had him melting into you, any insecurities fleeing so fucking far away that he could barely remember what they felt like.

You held him as tightly as you could and hummed in delight against his lips when he did the same and crushed you to his chest, the sound of it morphing into something needy as his cock throbbed, hot and smearing slick against your hip.

“I want you, Steven, I don't have the perfect words to explain just how much right now… just know that I need you so badly it hurts– it's hurt from the moment I met you and I don't think it'll ever stop no matter how much I might have you.”

Gods, you were threatening to undo him.

You had said you didn't have the perfect words and then given him everything he had dreamed of. Everything he thought he would die still wanting and never get to hear.

Steven swallowed hard, throat bobbing, and then he was bending down to lift you in his arms, the strength of a god thrumming through his muscles and large hands gripping beneath your thighs as you wound your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. Clutching needily at him whilst he peppered your face with sweet, breathless kisses.

“You can have me whenever you want,” he pressed the words into your jaw, the damp warmth of your cheeks as he walked you into the shower, murmuring the next ones over and over until the rush of the water threatened to drown them out, “I’m yours.”

You went soft for him in the cradle of his arms at that. Stripped down to your barest bones in the face of his raw emotion and it made his heart flutter and thump all too fast behind his ribs when your voice trembled on a sigh his name, so sweet and lovely.

Beneath the luke-warm spray and with cold tile at your back, you drew him closer, nudged your nose tenderly against his own and touched him as he fought to commit it all to memory. The way he felt - burning with each and every stroke of hand, each part of him alight as you murmured beautiful affections against his mouth - at the intimacy of it all.

The image of you that he was sure not even in death could take from him when it eventually came - eyes bright as jewels, lips swollen with his kisses, all lush, silken skin that shone under the weak stream of light the evening had yet to swallow. Droplets of water clinging to your hair and lashes like crystals. You looked like something ethereal, something otherworldly and untouchable, and the privilege he felt in being the one to see you that way, to contribute to the way you were a gorgeous mess, felt like something holy.

It was almost too much and Steven hissed sharply through his teeth when you finally guided him into you, a whimper caught in his chest and eyes screwed shut as you lowered yourself down inch by inch until his hips met yours. He felt like he was on fire, the warmth that had been blooming in his gut morphing into something violent and unimaginable that had his body tensing as he struggled not to finish before he’d even started. Head falling against your shoulder just before he felt your lips brush against his temple, parting on a rushed exhale.

“Oh,” you breathed, “fuck, Steven.”

At least, it seemed that you were in just as bad shape as he was. He’d probably say something similar if he could remember how to speak.

But his mind had splintered. Shattered apart to fragments and the only thing he could focus on was the way you were surrounding him- all slick, tight heat and the overwhelming sensation that burst through his chest of all his lost pieces suddenly slotting into place, like you were a part of his soul he wasn’t aware he was missing until you were finally joined once more.

“I’m sorry, I just need a minute.” He stuttered, voice hoarse and eyes blown wide, endlessly dark when he peered up at you. Half adoring, half pleading. “I want to make it good for you, you just feel so–gods, you feel too good.”

He could only moan when you kissed him, a filthy sound that would have had his cheeks flushing scarlet had he not been so out of his mind. Could only stare at you like you were pure magic taken form - no god or pact needed for whatever it was running through your veins - as you threaded your fingers through his hair and whispered. “It’s okay, Steven, it’s okay. It’s already so good, christ–you feel amazing, just let go for me, I want to feel it.”

It made his desperation threaten to win over. Head spinning as he dragged himself back out of you before surging back in, tightening his grip on your ass and lifting you up higher so he could do it again and again and again. Each thrust sliding you further up the tiles and pulling a strangled noise from the back of your throat that he quickly stole with greedy lips moulded over your own.

It started slow, deliberate and devastating, and then turned faster. Needier and unrestrained. The sound of panting breaths and skin on skin rising above the dull roar of water pelting against the tiled floor. Open mouthed kisses that were forced to come to an end because all the oxygen felt like it had fled both of your lungs, punched out everytime you slammed yourself down to meet the frantic rolling of his hips.

Steven had never felt anything like it and it was dangerously close to annihilating him completely.

There were wicked bolts of something animalistic, a feral rush of desire, threatening to weaken his knees and you gasped in surprise, legs clenching tight at his waist, when he moved to hold you with just one arm banded around across your back as his other hand slammed against the wall for support.

It changed the angle that he speared into you with and with the next thrust that came you were sobbing for him, seizing up like he’d plunged into the heart of your pleasure and pierced it - letting it flow out to the farthest reaches of you until you were curling into the solid press of him against you. Fingers in his hair and teeth searing a mark into his shoulder.

“Steven,�� you whimpered and fuck, you sounded just as overwhelmed by it as he felt. Shaking in his arms as the heat wrapping around you both grew and grew. “Steven, Steven, Steven.”

It made him choke on his tongue, eyes rolling back at the way you were clenching around him as his thrusts became deeper, greedier. His cock harder than it had ever been whilst you made a mess of his stomach and his thighs and Steven couldn’t get enough, He was so close to losing his mind, so close to devouring you entirely and begging you to ruin him because every sound you made, every sweet little uh,uh,uh that tumbled past your lips was unlocking something wild tucked deep inside him that he was helpless to rein back. That had him babbling nonsense, incoherent words that dripped down on you like scalding hot honey.

And then he latched his mouth to your nipple, relishing the way you jerked as he flicked his tongue and scraped his teeth across the peak until you mewled before trailing a path of fire up to your collar bones and then higher again to the tender skin of your throat. Sucking a kiss there that had you keening and shone like a bruise when he drew back to meet your burning stare.

“Touch yourself.” Steven begged, more than a little desperate because you were so tight around him and he was so fucking close. Stomach quivering and flooding with golden heat. “Want you to show me– want to see how you touched yourself all those times you thought about this.”

You nodded slowly as if dazed by the request, lips parted and eyes gleaming dark. But you were quick to comply. Quick to thrust a shaky hand down to where he was fucking up into you, to the crest of your sex where you were soaked and scorching like a furnace, and once you were there, your fingers drew quick, sloppy circles to your clit that had you throwing your head back with a loud cry of his name whilst he watched, lust drunk and in awe.

“Shit, shit shit.” Each word that bubbled its way up your throat was ragged, edging on breathless as your back arched like a bow. “Steven, oh my god, I’m gonna–”

He surged up before you could finish, hand tearing away from the wall to tangle itself in your wet hair so he could drag your mouth to his and kiss you as you came. Holding you fiercely in place and groaning against your lips, swallowing down your own noises whilst your cunt fluttered around him, convulsing over and over until his movements grew frantic and messy. Warmth pulsing brightly in his groin and his stomach and his too tight chest.

It was too much - he was bordering on delirious. Everything was hot and wet and he was wound so tight that any moment it felt like he’d explode. Burst apart like confetti. It took every ounce of strength he had to stave off his own release so he could extend yours by letting the frantic rhythm of his snapping thrusts morph into a slow, intense grind that stole the breath from your chest and made it feel like he was melding himself to your body. Like you were burying into each other so deep that you would never truly be able to remove the imprint of the other afterwards.

There was a flash of pain from your nails scratching down his scalp and across the broad sweep of his shoulders, teeth scoring the softness of his bottom lip whilst shudders wracked your frame and it startled him, the low, starving noise it drew from his mouth. Knocked him flat when you drew the stinging flesh into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the marks you had left behind, and began to raise and lower yourself up and down on his cock that little bit faster despite the way he could feel the muscles of your thighs trembling around his waist.

And when you cupped his cheeks, eyes burning with a wicked hunger whilst you whispered against his mouth, Steven was utterly lost.

“C’mon Steven, let go,” you encouraged him, voice wrecked. Desperate. “Want you to come for me, I want to feel it, please.”

He fell apart for you then, crashed into bliss with his arms winding achingly tight around you as his hips stuttered and then came to an almost stop, twitching desperately and fused unyieldingly to your own. His vision going dark and your name like a prayer that he gasped into your skin over and over.

And when it all eventually calmed, the crashing of his heart beat against his ribs and your chaotic breaths, the exhaustion had him almost falling to the shower floor with you. Both of you slipping down the wall just an inch or two before he managed to right himself on weak legs to the sound of your startled laugh.

It wasn’t until he had set you down and moved to clean you up, massaging with gentle hands and tender sweeping kisses all the places that he’d gripped so tightly, the places where you were starting to bare his marks that had him frowning apologetically, that it finally hit him that the shower was running cold. You were both being pelted with what felt like tiny shards of ice against your rapidly cooling skin and you snorted a laugh when he yelped in shock and immediately dragged you out of there, eyeing him with a sticky-sweet kind of affection as he snatched the thickest towel he could kind and wrapped it around you before pulling you close in an attempt to warm you up.

The way you were looking up at him was making his chest ache, filling his lungs up with an adoring kind of wonder, the kind that sprouted wildflowers and soft vines that breached through all his organs to wrap around his ribs. Suffocating him in the best way with just how much he was in love with you.

It made it impossible for him not to ask. “Can I kiss you?”

And if he thought that you would laugh at him considering everything that had just happened, that only moments ago he’d been buried inside you, then he was delighted to be proven wrong. Because you were beaming at him the second the question rushed past his lips, eyes sparkling in the near dark of the tiny, damp bathroom.

“Please.”

So he kissed you like he’d always wanted to the first time, slipping his fingers through the wet tangle of your hair to cradle your head whilst his lips pressed sweetly and almost shy against your own. It unfurled like it held its own magic, the type that could stop time and make him feel like he was floating, tingles rushing all through his body until he was lightheaded and needed to draw back before he lost his breath to the irresistible pull of it all.

You just stood leaning into one another for a while, foreheads resting together, noses nudging each other lazily alongside the occasional soft brush of lips. And then you were wrapping him up in a towel of his own and leading him to the bed, using an extra towel to carefully dry him with a reverence that had his heart flip flopping in his chest and a blush rise high on his cheeks. He melted when you kissed him, little butterfly presses to his arms and chest before you pulled a clean sweater over his head, his thighs and his hips when he lifted them for you to pull his sweatpants on.

And once Steven had returned the favour, he was drawing you to him in the middle of the bed, your back to his chest and the food that had long gone cold balanced precariously on the blanket pooled around you both. He fed you bites of chorizo and feta fries, coated in herbs and sprinkled with pomegranate, whilst an old movie played and when those three words fell from his lips, without thought and as easy as breathing, Stevens was no longer afraid.

No longer felt in over his head.

He murmured against your hair. “I love you.” And swallowed the lump that threatened to form in his throat when you turned and smiled, your fingers touching his face like he was something precious you had spent a lifetime yearning for before giving him the answer to a question he’d always thought he’d have to ignore for the rest of his life to save his own heart.

“I love you too.”

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant smut #steven grant imagine #steven grant fanfic #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction

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seivsite · 11 months

Text

includes: nagi seishiro x gn!reader x mikage reo & itoshi sae x gn!reader x michael kaiser. hinted afab!reader, polyamorous relationships hcs (ngro n kise), messy hcs, reader is shorter than them, intended lowercase — wc: 999

NAGI X READER X REO

i’d say you’re in the same school as them, probably in the same classes. you would softly wake seishiro whenever classes are over because he always asks for snacks from you when he misses lunch.

as for reo, he met you through sei, who would tell him stories about how you always give him snacks.

(he also found out that if you’re there nagi has motivation to actually play soccer with him).

when they joined blue lock, the three of you stayed in touch (after they got their phones back and catching up with you) and met up during on their two week break.

reo probably realises first that he’s interested in you after you took care of sei whenever he isn’t around. then he also realises that he’s in love with his best friend, so fun!

at one point sei accidentally said something along the lines of, “aren’t we already dating?” to the both you and reo, and least to say that both of you were bamboozled.

anyway, all three of you talked and boom! poly relationship!

how would they be in a relationship? reo spoils you and sei rotten. like horrendously quite concerning amount of money spent. he spends so much on the two of you, you’d ask him to stop but reo is like “no :3” while sei just takes whatever reo gives to him like ⊂(( ・ x ・ ))⊃🍙

cuddles in bed are a must!!!

positions depend on the mood but i’d imagine that you would be in the middle, since reo and sei are quite tall they love to be the big spoons. sei is in front of you while reo is behind your back.

sei’s face is always on your neck/collarbone while reo’s head is resting in your hair (he thinks your hair smells nice). reo also holds the both of you while you and sei are in each other's arms.

(don’t worry, reo also gets his fair share of cuddles)

onto their love languages, i believe sei’s love language is quality time and physical touch imo, reo is definitely giving gifts and acts of service.

reo would always give you gifts every now and then. he would also take you to expensive restaurants, pulling the chair back for you, wiping little crumbs off your face, etc.

sei is a lazy lover, he’s more keen on having you on his lap while he plays games. having you near him gives him a sense of comfort and he gets excited whenever you’re interested in the games he plays.

if you guys played minecraft, both of your beds are side by side. he also gives you random flowers he finds when he’s running around <3

they both do one thing and that is giving you all the kisses! randomly kissing your forehead, cheek, neck, lips, wherever they can reach really. they love the sound you make when they catch you by surprise.

in conclusion, dating them would be chaotic but you love them anyway <3

KAISER X READER X SAE

oh damn gurl, how’s your life having two new gen 11 as your boyfriends?

jokes aside, all i can think of right now is you met them at a meeting with the new gen 11 team, probably discussing stuff (quite irrelevant). moving on—

you could be a manager or some sort and kaiser took an interest in you, very much flirting with you. and then sae saw the two of you and moved kaiser away from you thinking he (kaiser) was making you uncomfortable.

honestly don’t know how you got sae’s attention but id say you always paid attention to him whenever he’s alone after practice, or giving him towels and water on the occasion he practises late.

as for kaiser, simple enough he just thinks you’re pretty, and over the time he found you interesting. so he keeps on asking you how amazing his goal was, or purposely lifting his shirt to wipe off his sweat to show his abs in front of you. honestly anything to tease you and see your face flushed.

how did you end up together, is a mystery nobody knows except for the three of you.

i imagine kaiser and sae thinking of confessing to you at the same time and so when it happened you just responded that you liked them both and suggested a poly relationship.

yay now you’re dating two most wanted men in the world. goodluck dealing with their fangirls!

your relationship is definitely not publicised for your own safety. knowing how crazy fangirls can be they think it’d be better to announce it once they’re a bit older.

(you’re dating sae and kaiser but they aren’t dating e/o, but feel free to interpret it however you want!)

they both spoil you way too much, it’s concerning you of how much money they have in their bank accounts.

kaiser definitely calls you mein liebling while sae calls you mi amor.

if you are learning german or spanish, they will happily help you. sometimes they say sentences in said languages and it’s just them saying how much they love you.

kaiser definitely kisses your lips while sae kisses your forehead more. (i'd like to think they’re lowk easily jealous, so don’t be surprised if theres a mark or two on your neck)

onto love languages, both of them are giving gifts but sae would lean towards acts of service and quality time while kaiser is probably leaning towards physical touch.

sae would give you snacks that you like whenever he comes home from the konbini, also opening the drinks that you struggle opening.

kaiser would cuddle you any chance he gets, doesn’t matter if all his teammates are still around he will have you on his lap with his arms around your waist.

in conclusion, the “it” couple frfr, the three of you are just the hottest couple in town. if you ever reveal it to the media, be prepared for all the twitter hashtags trending worldwide <3

NOTES. this is a bit messy but whatever lol, there’s so little poly bllk x reader so i am making my contribution. also my bllk debut hope u enjoy <3 konbini = japanese convenience store, liebling = darling, mi amor = my love

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

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natailiatulls07 · 6 months

Text

You're gonna leave me, aren't you?

Max Verstappen x female!reader

Summary - They were bestfriends then lovers but in end they were strangers left with the memories of what was

Warnings - mention of his father, mention of Jules Bianchi’s death, bad google translate, breaking up, sad ending kind of??

2015

Max met her in secondary school, his life was crazy. Between juggling school, his fathers harsh parenting and formula three, he met Y/n. They became bestfriends almost immediately.

Y/n was like a breath of fresh air in his chaotic lifestyle. Always patient and understood if he couldn't hang out. It did help that she knew what Max was getting himself into, her father would watch formula one and he was a big fan of the sport.

When Max got signed to Toro Rosso in 2015, Y/n was the first one he told. He remembers the phone call oh so well.

After a couple of rings, Max heard her through his phone. She sounded tired but would always have a cheery aura to her even through the phone.

"Max are you alright?" It was then when Max realised that Australia, where he was for the grand prix, was six hours ahead of the Netherlands. This meant that it was currently four am for Y/n.

"Yeah sorry, I just realised what time it is for you..." He tooking a sharp breath, debating whether he should let Y/n sleep and tell her later. "I have news, it's very exciting!"

Max heard her shuffle in bed. "Oh yeah, go on"

"You better be clearing you schedule because I'm going to be in formula one!!" Y/n's audible gasp was heard through the phone. "Formula one zonneschijn!"

Of course since it was the middle of the night, Y/n kept her celebration quiet. So in hushed whispers she replied. “No way! Max that’s amazing”

Max could of sworn he heard her voice break. Was she crying? “I’m so proud of you Maxy!”

Max swears that day was the day he fell in love with her. They were only 17 and 16, mere teenagers. But his whole perspective of her changed.

Sadly Y/n couldn’t make his formula debut but he knew that she was watching on from home. She was studying, trying to get through college and through to university.

Of course the two kept close, face times and messages became important to them as Max was travelling his way around the planet.

Soon enough Max caught up the courage to ask her out over summer break. He took her to their favourite restaurant. And whilst on the date, he then asked her to be his girlfriend to which she nodded excitedly with a big smile on her face.

Everyone was happy for the new couple, admittedly upset they didn’t see much of the two together because of their privacy and schedules.

2016

It was in 2016 when Max started driving for Redbull racing that he also started to drift from Y/n. He didn’t want to and it wasn’t a choice he made easily.

Of course growing up, Max saw what happens in motorsport. He knew it was dangerous and always life threatening.

Max was in the paddock when he watched Jules Bianchi crash in 2014. He knew how it effected Jules’ close family and friends, Max was friends with Charles who struggled.

He remembers being told that Jules died after Jules was in a coma for nine months.

And Max didn’t want that weight on Y/n if something were to happen. He didn’t want the press to crowd her and he didn’t want to give her that much grief.

So he drifted, as much as he hated it, he drifted away from. This of course drew red flags for Y/n.

Before they would text non stop every day but now Max barely replied. Before they would spend almost all his free time together, binge watching their favourite shows or eating at their favourite restaurant or even just napping together.

But now Max would intentionally fill his time with work, much like his father once did. He remembers looking in the mirror and just seeing his father, that scared him but it didn’t stop him.

Y/n had managed to get ahold of Max, she called him asking if he could meet her at their favourite restaurant. Unlike her usual cheery tone, she sounded deflated.

Pulling up to the restaurant, he saw her through the window sat at their table. And as he walked in, he didn’t receive his usual warm hug from her so he just sat down opposite. Looking at her as if he didn’t know what was going on.

“Hey what’s up?” Max asked the girl opposite him. He was scared of her, she wasn’t Y/n.

“Um…how do I say this?” Her soft voice came out still as deflated as before. What Y/n said next hit, the new formula one driver hard. “You’re gonna leave me…aren’t you?”

It was as if everything around Max had stopped. Only then did he realise what he did to her. Max thought that this was the best option, drifting away, but instead what he had done was make her feel unloved and feel like the relationship was one sided. “No. No of course not zonneschijn!”

He was quick to protest but was quick shushed when Y/n started to shake her head. “Max…please don’t, don’t try to tell me different because you are…you’re gonna leave, it’s okay”

Collecting her stuff, Y/n started to leave. Max couldn’t do anything, he knew what he’d done and he knew he could come back from that. “I love you Max…always have and always will” Y/n whispered before turning her back to him and leaving.

Max watched her walk out of the restaurant and walk home, he felt ashamed and regretful that he lost the best thing he’ll ever have. But he promised to keep her in his heart until the day that he would die.

2023

It was over seven years since Max last saw her but he never let her out of his heart and mind. He had just won his third world championship and Sky Sports had pulled him over to have a quick interview.

“Hi Max! Well done on your third world championship, how are you feeling?” The sky sport journalist asks whilst Max is handed his mic.

“Yeah I feel so grateful that I am able to achieve this for the third time” Max smiles politely, not the biggest fan of post race/sprint interviews but pr insist.

“Is there anyone who you feel like you owe this to? Any family? I know that your father is very supportive of your career”

“Um yeah…” He takes a pause, and then his mind goes back to his sunshine, Y/n. “I think I’ll have to thank an old friend…she knows who she is, I hope she knows that I appreciate and love her more and more everyday” Looking into the camera, Maxs heart tells him that she is there watching from home supporting him.

He also knew that everyone knew who he was talking about, they always did.

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kyupidos · 8 months

Note

I would like to request a twst overblot gang x reader ( separate and only do a few of them if you can't do all!! ) :D , the idea is reader missed their birthday cause it was on the day they overblotted ( things was so chaotic and they literally just forgot about it ) and only remembered it after they started dating them!! (I would absolutely love you if you make azul's first cause he's my fav lol)

09/10/23’s delivery 🏹✉️ twisted wonderland

ink flavored cake ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ,ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ ;; summary. ‘when your future boyfriend turns into a blot-consumed monster, things can get hectic; forgetting things is only natural, no?”

characters. overblot boys : riddle rosehearts , leona kingscholar , azul ashengrotto ( separate ) ;; romantic . 🖇️ tags. reader is gender neutral ( you/your ), reader is yuu, silly romantic fluff

📡 _a/n. ty for the req anon ^-^ !! this took me some time to work on because i was trying to figure out how it would work, but yk i had to get it out before monday; though i had to cut back on the amount of characters. maybe i’ll do a part 2 if i’m motivated enough. usually i order characters by order of dorm, but i’ll make an exception for you here since, what’s not to love about azul?

a. ashengrotto

— you don’t blame yourself for having forgotten your own birthday, though it’s a shame; three days to obtain a picture in a museum under the sea or else your only living space will be taken from you, being forced to spend the nights at savanaclaw, and then finally, the third overblot of the year. the third! in the end though, you figured it didn’t matter too much. who would be able to celebrate your birthday with you, people from a whole different world than you?

— though you also didn’t expect things to get hectic romantically, you’re not upset about that either; so you sat with azul in his office, spending time together in comfortable silence as he got some work done. it seemed as though something had randomly popped up in his mind, though, as he carefully put his tea cup down on the coaster and turned to you. “also, i should ask, angelfish— when is your birthday? i’d like to remember so i can treat you.” for a moment, you debate how to respond. it’s already been three or four months since that day. “well..it already passed.” azul sighed, looking disappointed in a way you could quite express, before he continued, “oh? well that’s a shame. but nonetheless, what’s the date?” “ah..the day you overblotted?”

— you can’t help but notice the air turn heavy as the silence once comfortable turned awkward, azul appearing more miffed than before. at least, not long before; “well, is there anything in particular you wanted for your birthday?” you hummed in confusion before he started again, this time more confident, “it doesn’t matter if the time has gone, you’re my lover correct? i still might as well get you something special.” in any normal situation you would have probably shook your head politely and say it wasn’t necessary, but this was related to your birthday. of course, you took up his offer— you weren’t going to give up a birthday gift that easy.

l. kingscholar

— some people believed that no matter how different you two were, in some ways you were certainly akin to your lover, leona. after all, you didn’t seem too concerned with the way you missed your birthday, which was on the day of your lover’s overblot, no less; in fact, though you did seem upset to some degree, you didn’t seem to be nettled at all by the concept. although such a fact wasn’t exactly something people were aware of yet, at least not until leona himself became aware of it.

— “eh, herbivore. by the way, when’s your birthday? i don’t think you ever told me.” ..right, you nearly forgot again. well, it’s not that big of a deal, you suppose; at least it was the day after, but you’re over that now. you guess. “ahh, yeah, it already passed.” leona yawned, facing away from you as he laid on his bed with you next to him, in a sort of sitting position. “oh? well when exactly was that?” you shrugged lackadaisically, counting your fingers as if counting down the days since it had passed. “probably..the day you overblotted, i guess?”

— very slowly, to the point it was almost funny, leona’s head slowly turned to face you. usually he wouldn’t be bothered by sentiments like this, as his face was downturned with a chagrin frown, but after all you were his lover. and plus, it’s a little embarrassing to have overblotted on said lover’s birthday; even if you didn’t know. he wasn’t even able to spoil you the day after in apology! “in that case..write me a list of everything you want.”

r. rosehearts

— having a birthday near the start of the school year wasn’t exactly the best in terms of celebrating with new school friends; especially when on your third day of school, your friends’ housewarden raged into an overblotted monster, pretty awkward, isn’t it? but in the end, you’d completely forgotten anyway, what with your whole in-another-world dilemma, and the aforementioned overblot— oh, and that you almost got expelled on the whole day, and moving into ramshackle..certainly some tough times on your end.

— but now, things have calmed, and you’re together with your now partner, riddle, having a two person tea party in heartslabyul’s garden. most of what you’re talking about is related to the things going on in heartslabyul, but you don’t really mind; if you want to change topics, you know he’ll listen. though suddenly as he rambles on to you about unbirthday parties, a highlight of the aftermath of his overblot ( as well as your birthday, not that he knew ), he looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes, “—oh and i must ask, when is your birthday, dear? we don’t only hold unbirthday parties, you know.”

— had it not been for that, you’d probably have forgotten again, having been months since the beginning of your journey in twisted wonderland; though, you’d probably still complain internally every now and then. “ahah, it already passed this year, y’know. totally forgot to mention it.” riddle looked perplexed for a second, unsure how one could forget their own birthday, before returning to his casual expression a second later. “..is that so? but when was it, even so?” “mm, third day of school.” riddle wasn’t an idiot, he remembered what happened that day. the main star was him, after all. so inevitably, he couldn’t help but feel upset that he unintentionally ruined your second day. “r-really..then..i’ll dedicate today to you, instead. tell me what you want, i’ll get it prepared; like i said previous, we take parties seriously.”

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sundrop-writes · 7 months

Text

Kisses Like Fire Whiskey

Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary:

When you come back from a long healing apprenticeship in France, you and Fred catch up over drinks, reminiscing about your days as mischievous rebels. In the drunken haze, some important things are realized.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Fluff (with a slight bit of Angst). Set post Deathly Hallows and during Goblet of Fire.

Word Count: 7,500

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is bookended with scenes that take place after the war, but obviously this is a Fred Lives AU; part of this takes place after main storyline of Deathly Hallows and part of it takes place in a flashback during Goblet of Fire (when Fred and the reader are in their sixth year); the reader and Fred are the same age; while part of this takes places post Deathly Hallows, there isn't mentions of the war; it's never mentioned exactly how long the reader was away, but the reader and Fred are both in their early 20s in the bookended parts; drinking and drunkenness are major plot points in this fic, as well as underage drinking; underage characters being in a bar/pub; Fred and the reader both drink, but there are mentions of Fred seeming more sober than the reader/handling his alcohol better; they are drunk to the point of lowering their inhibitions, but not to the point of passing out or forgetting things; mentions of George x Katie Bell as a background ship; mentions of splinching/the dangers of Apparating while drunk (does not actually happen in the fic, everyone is fine); mentions of vomiting due to over consumption of alcohol (doesn't happen to any of the main characters of this fic, it's a very small background element); passing mention of a cursed object that makes people spit up their own blood; creepy men approach the reader (and Fred defends her) - minor sexual harassment from older men toward the reader; this does use Y/N (I started out as a Quizilla girly, I will live and die by Y/N); this is mostly just mutual pining and fluff with a love confession at the end. So please enjoy!!

A/N: when I read the original request, I was inspired to take it a lot further, and after writing The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes, I have realized that I really loving writing simplistic fics that are mutual pining that turns into a love confession. It's so much fun.

...

“So then - so then - Bill says: ‘where’s Percy?’, and Mum looks around the table and realises Perce is even there.” George chuckled brightly, topping off the telling of another one of their chaotic childhood stories.

“‘Course, Mum blamed it on us.” Fred said, rolling his eyes.

“As if she was wrong!” You argued, reaching out and smacking him on the shoulder playfully.

Your words were louder to your own ears than you had intended to say them, slurring slightly on your lips. Perhaps you had more to drink than you had realised, but you were simply having fun catching up with your dearest, oldest friends. So you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care or view it as a problem.

You were simply overjoyed to see Fred and George again.

You were visiting England for the first time in years, and naturally, the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes shop had been your first stop. You had grown up with the twins - since your first year at Hogwarts together, they had been two of your closest friends. Ever since you had been sorted into Gryffindor with them, the three of you had been thick as thieves. Right from the moment you had suggested to them that they actually unscrew a toilet seat lid and send it to their little sister Ginny in the post when they had initially just been joking about doing so. Ginny had found it highly amusing - their mother, not so much.

But when you met Molly for the first time in person, you were always on her good side. You were very good at playing the ‘perfect angel’ in front of authority figures (unlike the twins). So you could very easily bat your eyelashes and say a few sweet things, as well as being on your best behaviour on the surface, before sneaking around with the twins at night and helping them with their pranks - not that anyone else ever suspected you of doing so.

You were the perfect accomplice for them. Someone who was labelled as a goody-two-shoes who was down for mischief at any time.

You had been slightly heartbroken when you found out that they were planning to quit their Seventh Year partyway through in order to start their joke shop. You knew that it had always been a dream of theirs, and it was your dream to see them succeed in it. But a large part of you had been hoping to graduate with your best friends by your side. They had offered for you to come with them, of course. They told you that you could have a very fulfilling career at the shop. But you had other plans for yourself.

So you watched them ride off on their brooms, cheering and hollering for them alongside everyone else. And after your graduation, you had come to visit the shop in its full glory, seeing its whimsical beauty with your own eyes before you left England. As much as you hated that your lives had taken such different paths, you admired them deeply for succeeding.

Since then, you had been in France. You had taken on a prestigious healing apprenticeship in order to become a high level Healer. It was something you had always dreamed of doing - helping people through the skilled art of healing.

Perhaps, in some ways, it was a career choice inspired partially by your two best friends - seeing them blow themselves up or get horrible boils testing their own products, you wanted to be able to soothe the side effects faster. And you knew that there were plenty more children out there like them. Children who would fall from trees pretending to be a dragon or lose their teeth trying to eat a deck of Exploding Snap, children who needed gentle understanding from a Healer rather than scolding.

You had recently finished up your apprenticeship, and you were hoping to get a job at St. Mungo’s to be closer to the people you always viewed as family. But even just stepping foot back in the twins’ shop felt like home. You had been greeted with tight hugs and so much chatter between them about missing you that you could barely decipher the words between two voices. They had invited you up to the flat above the shop for a drink - so now, hours later, you were quite tipsy and feeling the best that you had in years.

“You know boys, I haven’t - I haven’t been this tossed off my tits in quite a while!” You announced loudly, pausing between words to let out a small hiccup, signifying just how drunk you were.

You weren’t at the level of drunk where things were unpleasant - not where the room was spinning and you were on the verge of passing out, battling with nausea. But your normal sense of proprietary had definitely been tossed out the window, you felt fuzzy around the edges, and everything felt delightfully warm. Especially considering you had been drinking Fire Whiskey.

You hadn’t had a drink all throughout your apprenticeship, as much as the other young people working with you encouraged you to ‘take a load off’ every once and a while. Your work was something that you took very seriously (especially when Fred and George weren’t around to tempt you with pranks and daily mischief). So this was the first time in a long time that you had actually taken the time to relax, and the alcohol was hitting you a lot harder than even you realised.

The boys chuckled at your words, George turning bright red from how hard he was laughing. Perhaps the booze was hitting him pretty hard too. While Fred’s eyes were dancing with that brightness they always had when he was having fun, he didn’t seem quite as sloppy. You hadn’t been paying attention, but he likely didn’t have as much to drink, and had simply been enjoying your company the entire time.

“You know, I really missed you, Fred and George.” You said, pure sincerity dripping through your tone, your affection amplified in your chest by your drunkenness. You couldn’t hold yourself back - your emotions bubbling to the surface without your consent. “And I really, really missed you, Fred.”

You turned to him, putting a warm hand on his shoulder, your touch practically burning up through the sleeve of his silken shirt (you were surprised by how nicely the twins dressed now that they were established bussinessmen). You hated that you couldn’t hold back the need to emphasise the fact that you had missed Fred just a bit more. But he had been on your mind a lot more than his brother had, as scarily similar as they were.

Even if you had barely admitted it to yourself, throughout all your years at Hogwarts, you had a romantic inclination towards Fred.

It was never something you had acted on, for fear of ruining the amazing friendship that the two of you had. But as your visit to England grew closer and closer, you found yourself losing focus on your work and thinking about him more and more. You wondered if he had found someone - you wondered if his good looks, his charm, his humour had landed him a wife in the time that you had been gone. It wouldn’t have surprised you if, during the time you had been gone, he had married or even had kids.

Obviously he had a wonderful career nailed down, so a family would have been the natural next step for him.

Those thoughts made you approach the shop’s door with equal parts dread and excitement. You eagerly wanted to see him again but didn’t want to see that there was a ring on his finger. You had been all too happy to find out during your long, winding ‘catch up’ conversation that, in fact, he was still single. George had brought up that fact more than once, actually, nagging on his brother’s lonely status like it was the most recent funny joke he could prod at.

When you heard him talk about it, there was that insecurity still bubbling beneath the surface - the thought that you had missed your chance, or that Fred had never been interested in you romantically at all. It was something that couldn’t even be knocked away by booze, and that was gnawing at you now that storytime was winding down.

Fred and George exchanged a look - one of those silent conversations that could only be had through micro-expressions because of their closeness as twins. It was something that had always deeply irritated you during your days at Hogwarts, desperately trying to decipher if it meant ‘close to expulsion’ trouble or simply ‘skipping a class’ trouble.

“Well, would you look at the time,” George said, loudly and rather cartoonishly as he looked at his watch. It was something that you likely would have found suspect if you weren’t feeling hazy and drunk. “I told Katie I would pop over to hers sometime this weekend, so I should get going,”

Something that had come as a brilliant surprise to you: finding out that George was now engaged to Katie Bell.

Not only were you shocked to know that George seemed more than eager to ‘settle down’ and get married, but you were entirely curious about how they came to be as a couple. Especially considering that, as far as you knew, she had always seemed to find the twins’ pranks more annoying than anything else.

But you supposed that annoyance and attraction were two twigs on the same branch, the tree just needed to be shaken a little for something romantic to happen. The two of them hadn’t officially moved in together yet, as much as George talked about her with those sweet, rose-coloured lenses, and seemed to want to spend all his time around her. The twins still lived in the flat above the shop, two twin beds in the bedroom, as they always had in their room at the Burrow. But from the way Fred remarked on it, and from what you had seen glancing into their bedroom when you had gotten up to use the toilet, George was over at Katie’s far more than he was at their flat.

You couldn’t help but to find it sweet. George was in love.

It made you happy for him, knowing that he had found someone good for him. But thinking about it caused a pang in your chest as you wondered if Fred was lonely. You knew that loneliness certainly wasn’t a feeling that he was used to. If it was you or George, or one of his many other brothers, he always had someone at his side to keep him company.

You could only imagine what those nights were like - when the shop closed up and George popped off to his soon to be wife’s place, leaving Fred to nothing but the quiet. (You knew that Weasleys were never good with quiet - part of the reason that the twins were the way that they were.)

George peeled himself off the floor, where the three of you had been sitting around the coffee table in the lounge. Like a gangly baby deer, he began stumbling about due to his own drunkenness before he gained a proper footing and finally managed to stand up straight. You let out a snorting laugh at the sight and Fred - very clearly the most sober of the three of you - rushed out of his seat to grab George by the shoulders, making sure that his brother was alright.

“You sure that you’re okay to Apparate, Georgie?” Fred asked.

That kindness, that caring - it was something people often overlooked when they saw Fred Weasley. But it was one of the things that had drawn you to him the most. He was such a sweet person, and he cared about the people in his life with such a ferocity that it made your soul ache just to know that you were one of them.

“I’ll be fine, Freddie.” George replied.

Fred picked up George’s coat and began helping him into it, and you barely paid attention to the hushed conversation that the two of them had as you picked up the large (now rather light) bottle of Fire Whiskey and poured yourself another drink.

You caught something online the lines of ‘just go for it, for Merlin’s sake’ - very strained and annoyed, but you honestly had no clue what they were talking about. As you took a sip of your drink - you truly didn’t care.

Fred heaved out a sigh and then George disappeared with a crack. You craned your neck to look at the spot where he had been, just wanting to make sure that there was no blood or unsightly pieces of George left behind. There weren’t any - he had done fine.

“Havin’ another one, are we?” Fred remarked, walking around the coffee table to collapse onto the plush couch behind your back.

You chugged the rest of the Fire Whiskey from your glass all in one go, growling slightly as it burned sharply down your throat before you put the glass down once again.

“I’m celebrating!” You cheered loudly - again, much louder than you intended it to be. “I missed my best friends so much. It’s so - so good to be home.”

“But apparently you missed me just a bit more?” Fred chuckled, referring to your comment from before.

You moved to get up on the couch with him, and found your legs unsteady beneath you. Fred saw what you were doing and put a hand on your upper arm, hauling you back to sit on the cushions beside him. You moaned quietly at the warmth of his large hand on your bare skin, exposed by the camisole you were wearing. At one point, you had been wearing a nice cardigan, but you had stripped out of it as the alcohol drove your body temperature up.

You leaned back into the couch, and cuddled up against him. His body was soft and muscled at the same time, and he felt so nice against you. With your inhibitions lowered, you could see no fault in snuggling tightly into his side and laying your head on his chest. You wanted to simply enjoy the physical affection from a person you had missed so dearly.

You didn’t see the pure warring on Fred’s face as you did this - the confliction and yearning and hurt flashing over his features. He had missed you too, but he knew that you had missed him as a friend, just as a good friend, and not as the ‘one that got away’ that he had been thinking about every damn day since. But he could be cool about this, he told himself. He wouldn’t let his stupid feelings get in the way.

After a moment of pushing those pesky feelings back down, he finally relaxed into your touches and wrapped an arm around you, lazily brushing his fingers across the bare skin of your arm on the other side. You sighed happily at the feeling. From this close, he could smell the feminine floral waft of your perfume in combination with the hot cinnamon of the Fire Whiskey. And though it only made him yearn more, it was heaven.

He was all too happy to have you this close rather than you being so far away in France. He was happy to have you home.

“Do you want to stay the night?” He asked. “George’s bed will be empty, of course.”

He added on that second part quickly - he wanted you to feel comfortable, didn’t want to put any pressure on you to keep up this closeness, even if you seemed cuddly and affectionate because of your drunken state.

Originally, you had been planning to get a room at The Leaky Cauldron, but the twins’ shop had been your very first stop, and they had torn your suitcase out of your hands to bring it upstairs for you, so it was currently sitting off to the side of the lounge with your coat draped over it. And you never did get that room. Now, you realised it was laughable to think that you’d be staying anywhere but with friends, especially with the Molly Weasley hospitality baked right into them. You had to assume that even if George wasn’t at Katie’s, he would have slept on the couch so that you could take his bed anyway.

“Freddie, you know, I don’t think I’m going to get very far.” You said. “You - you got me pretty d-drunk.”

Fred smiled to himself. “Ah, I see. Once again, it is all my fault.”

It was something you did at large during your days at Hogwarts. You blamed him for yourself being late to class, you getting detentions, the few times you had ended up on Molly’s bad side. When in reality, you had always been a cheerful, willing participant in their chaos, you had always ‘blamed’ him for dragging you into it. But it only made him tempt you into more trouble.

“It is,” You sighed, turning your head to give him a wide grin. “You always g-get me into trouble.”

Fred let out a quiet laugh at this, and you laid your head on this chest once again. The two of you mulled in the comfortable silence for a few moments before you thought of something.

“You know, this-s reminds me, of - of the first time you got me drunk.” You told him with a laugh.

“Oh, god, back in sixth year?” He posed, returning to the memory himself. “That was epic. I still don’t know if I’d call it an epic disaster, or epic fun.”

“Bit of both.” You mumbled quietly. “Always is with you.”

Sitting there, curled up next to the lovely warmth of him, you remembered the night so fondly.

…

Leave it to Fred Weasley to pull you out of bed at half past two in the morning with no solid explanation as to why, aside from ‘we have plans’.

When you asked him why he couldn’t conduct those plans with George, as he usually did, he simply smirked and said that George had plans of his own. Which deeply worried you - but you tried your best to ignore it. You knew from experience that Fred wasn’t a walking troublemaker all the time.

In fact, the events of just a short week ago had proven that to you. He had invited you to the Yule Ball (as friends, of course) and the entire evening had been absolutely pleasant. No pranks - no water balloons, no coloured dye, no buckets of feathers, no charmed objects, no floods. It had been nothing but a delightful night of dancing and chatting with your friends.

Even now, as Fred pulled you into the mouth of a very small passageway that you had never seen before (one that caused you to slump over in order to walk through it), you pulled your scarf tighter around yourself and tried your hardest not to worry about what he might be up to. At the very least, if he was planning something large and disruptive, you would know about it, so that you wouldn’t be on the receiving end.

He had told you that these ‘plans’ involved going outdoors, so you had bundled up well, because there was still quite a few feet of snow outside and it was chilly, seeing as it was so late at night. But you hadn’t expected it to be so damn cold, walking in a random mystery tunnel underneath the school. Again, you had no clue where he was taking you or where the thing even led - you were simply glad when it became tall enough for you to straighten your back up.

“Where are we going, Fred?” You demanded harshly.

“You’ll see.” Fred told you, throwing a wicked grin over his shoulder at you as he continued to lead you forward through the darkness - the light of his wand being the only thing leading the way in the musty old tunnel.

“Nothing good ever happens when you say those words.” You replied, heaving a deep sigh.

“Well, perhaps, you could keep your mind open this time.” He said brightly. “Loosen up. Be open to all the possibilities that the universe has to offer you,”

You rolled your eyes at this. He was trying to direct your attention away from whatever scheme he had planned, that much was immediately clear to you.

“Is this an escape tunnel out of the country because you finally did something bad enough for your mother to kill you?” You joked. “Let me guess, you’re meeting George in Germany? What was it that finally pushed her over the edge? Did she find out that you two took bets at the World Cup? Did she find out about the-?”

Your words were abruptly cut off when Fred tapped his wand on the wall in front of him. It was a seemingly a dead end wall made of stone, keeping the two of you trapped at the end of the tunnel. But when he whispered some incantation under his breath, the stone began to grind loudly and it parted ways - letting in a gust of cold air from the outside, revealing the way out.

Fred stepped forward and you continued to follow him. As the stone grinded closed behind the two of you (now disguised as nothing more than a large, natural boulder) you gaped with shock as you saw a cluster of lights just down the hill and you quickly realised what it was.

“Hogsmeade.” You declared quietly, entirely shocked that you had walked through a dirty tunnel and ended up here.

Somehow, without getting caught - without setting off any charms that should supposedly be in place to keep the students on the school’s grounds.

Fred nodded proudly, grinning at you.

“How-?” You gaped.

“I have my ways, don’t I?” Fred said, his chest visibly puffing out with pride.

You decided not to question it. Especially because you fully understood it now - Fred was bored, he knew a way out of the school, and he simply wanted to have fun in Hogsmeade instead of laying in bed that night.

Fred took a hold of your hand as the two of you walked into town, and you took a quiet joy in observing Hogsmeade at night. Quite a few of the shops were closed, due to it being so late, which did make you wonder why Fred had even bothered to bring you there.

But he soon answered your question when he brought you to The Three Broomsticks - which was lit up, bustling and lively at this time. You knew that the front door was enchanted to alert the owner of underage wizards trying to pass through at certain times. Before you could even wonder what Fred’s plan was for that one - he led you around to the back, and he caught the back door out of someone’s hand as they ran outside and began puking in a snowbank, obviously unable to handle their liquor.

The two of you slipped in the back door completely undetected, seeing as it didn’t have those same enchantments to alert the owner of your presence. You began tingling with the glee that you always wore whenever Fred pulled you along to perform some mischief. You felt so joyous when you paired up to share wicked secrets with him. Fred had a talent for getting away with things (and other times, he so fabulously didn’t) - but he got away with a lot more than anybody ever realised, right under their noses. You felt clever just being around him most of the time.

With all the confidence in the world, still holding your hand, Fred pushed past some other rowdy patrons and waltzed right up to the bar. He tossed down a few Sickles (bet money that he and George had won from the World Cup, you could guarantee) and you couldn’t help but to grin at him as so confidently placed an order.

“Two Fire Whiskeys, please.” He announced, never once skipping a beat or faltering as any other underage person in a bar would.

It was strange to say, but Fred wore playful deception so well. You knew that you were staring at him with intense attraction written all over your face as you admired his antics. You simply hoped that he wouldn’t catch the love dopey look on your face and call you out on it.

“Coming right up, love-” Madam Rosmerta began to comply with his request without issue, but she took pause when she looked up from drying a glass with a rag long enough to truly look at the two of you.

That was the moment you thought it was over, for sure. You thought that she would send an angry owl up to Hogwarts, and the two of you would be done for. You began to imagine what kind of sick and twisted punishment McGonagall would have in store for the two of you - scrubbing cauldrons for weeks, trimming all the grass on the Quidditch pitch with scissors.

But somehow, Fred was a lot more clever than that. He wasn’t going to give up and simply let himself be caught.

“Aren’t you two a little… young to be in here?” She posed, glancing between the two of you and then looking back toward the front door, as though she was expecting the enchantments to suddenly begin wailing to alert her to a couple of underage wizards in the pub. Even though the two of you had successfully made it all the way over to the bar without that happening.

“Young?” Fred scoffed, putting on his very best tone of fake offence. “Honestly, woman, why would a couple of kids be in a pub at three in the morning?”

Rosmerta raised a brow at him, making it clear that she didn’t buy this - at least not yet.

Your stomach curled with nerves, and you tried your hardest not to show it on your face. You knew that this would either end in a spectacular punishment, or Fred would pull off one of his greatest hoaxes yet.

“Perhaps you might recognize us from when we were Hogwarts students,” Fred shrugged, trying his best to sound casual. “But we graduated year before last. And we just got off a very long shift with the Department of Cursed Objects, and we would simply like a drink.”

“Yeah, that last one was a doozy.” Your tongue moved before you gave it permission, and you found yourself leaning on the bar as you added onto Fred’s lie. “We had to hunt down this set of silver teaware that poisoned anyone who drank out of it. They were spitting up blood, and rotting from the inside out, choking on their own-”

“My apologies.” Rosmerta said, giving a curt smile. Clearly, she was increasingly uncomfortable with the graphic nature of your made-up story, and simply wanted you and Fred out of her way. “You must be right. The students from the school all start to blend together after the years. How ‘bout that drink then?”

She turned to grab a pair of non-cursed glasses, and when you glanced over at Fred, he was grinning widely at you.

“Good one.” He whispered into your ear, and you couldn’t help the shiver that went through you at the feeling of his hot breath on your neck. If asked, you would say that it was caused by the chill of someone opening the door, and not caused by your unbearable attraction to him.

When the drinks were placed on the bar in front of you, Rosmerta scurried off to attend to someone else. You picked up the glass that was half filled with the amber liquid, feeling intense victory and satisfaction flowing through you. In a predictable pattern, you and Fred gently clinked your glasses together.

But rather than making a congratulatory toast in celebration of getting away with the lies, you grinned widely at him as you said this:

“You’re a menace to society, Fred Weasley.”

“You love it.” He replied easily, giving you a cheeky wink as he tossed back the liquid in one clean gulp. He winced slightly and sucked in a breath sharply through his teeth. But it was clearly not his first time drinking, and you had to guess that Bill was the one responsible for that.

Wanting to match him, you did the same - you tipped the glass back, letting all of the liquid slide past your lips and down your throat in one go. It burnt sharply in a way that you absolutely weren’t expecting, and you began coughing and sputtering, giving away your amateur nature in one glance. It was lucky that Rosmerta wasn’t looking. Fred rubbed your back soothingly, though he did take a moment to laugh at you.

“Burns, doesn’t it?” He chuckled.

“You c-could’ve warned me.”

…

A short while later, the burn of the alcohol was certainly no longer a concern for you. You supposed that was part of the point - if booze made you drunk and detached from yourself, they didn’t have to make it taste good. Because after a while, you just didn’t taste it.

You and Fred were three rounds deep, and even though he was matching you drink for drink, he was far more composed than you were. He hardly seemed drunk at all, other than the cute way he giggled at your jokes. Perhaps it was because of his height, or his Quidditch playing muscles, but he was handling his alcohol surprisingly well.

You, on the other hand - you were properly sloshed.

You had shed most of your winter clothing and spread the pieces haphazardly around the table that Fred had sat the two of you at. And you were currently trying to balance one of the empty shot glasses on your forehead - just to prove that you could, while Fred watched on in amusement.

Of course, he was partially amused by your drunken antics, and partially watching your cleavage threaten to burst out of your tight, V neck tee shirt as you arched your back furiously, trying to keep the glass balanced there. Since you had shed off your jacket and thick jumper, this was what you were left in, along with your tight jeans and boots - and Fred found that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

“See! Told you I could do it!” You cheered, proud of yourself as you finally reached up and took the glass down, and then moved back to sit in your chair in front of Fred.

He couldn’t help but to smile at you. Honestly, he would never doubt you in anything you set your mind to. If you said that you could walk up walls or make Snape dance a jig, he would simply wait to watch it happen.

As he watched your proud smile and the way that the slightly drunken confidence caused you to sit up a bit taller, seeing the light from the fireplace gently kiss your skin - he was reminded of why he had brought you here in the first place. He let the alcohol in his own system give him courage (something that had been built into the plan) and he reached across the table, grabbing your hand gently with both of his.

The suddenly serious look that befell Fred’s face surprised you. That sense of surprise only grew when he took hold of your hand. He had more than captured your attention as he began to speak.

“Y/N, there’s something I really need to tell you.” Fred announced, his voice taking on a very rare serious quality.

It was something you had only heard from him when he talked about the possible ways to fund his joke shop or when you had fallen off a broom playing Quidditch at the Burrow and he had been worried about you being hurt. You nodded, stunned into silence, wondering if this meant bad news coming, eager for him to continue.

“Y/N, darling, you truly are the most amazing thing in my life.” He said, giving a small smile. Hearing this made your stomach tingle - it made the clasp of his hands around yours feel warmer. “You are so utterly brilliant. And you’re funny, and you’re the only girl I know who actually laughs at the stupid pranks I pull. I absolutely love spending time with you. I genuinely can’t imagine my life without you. So much so, that-”

“Hello, sweet thing.”

Fred’s words were disrupted by a deep voice, someone behind you who grumbled out these words and then let out a low whistle.

It took you a moment to realise that it was even directed at you. But when Fred’s face switched from that sweet smile to a harsh glare - a look that was rare for him, you followed his intense gaze over your shoulder to see what he was looking at.

It was a group of three men, much older than you, greasy-haired, wearing dark cloaks - staring at you like a pack of coyotes would stare at a hunk of fresh meat. Their gaze immediately made you feel naked, and though you were blazen hot, between the Fire Whiskey coursing through your system and the heat of the fireplace licking at you nearby, you had the urge to grab your jumper and pull it on over your head simply so that they would stop looking.

“Now what is a pretty thing like you doing in this dirty old pub?” One of the men asked, his voice feeling filthy in your ears and causing your spine to curl with disgust and something that you would hesitate to admit was fear. “Surely you must be lost, sweet thing. Need someone to show you the way home, then?”

You quickly jumped out of your chair and moved around the table to Fred’s side, where he had risen and easily swept you into his side with an arm around your shoulders. In a moment, you felt safer under his protective touch as he continued to glare at the men.

“Bugger off, then!” Fred ordered sharply.

“Oh, ‘bugger off’,” One of the others mocked Fred’s words in a whiny tone - clearly they didn’t take him seriously because he was obviously younger, even if he was quite tall for his age.

“What are you, her little boyfriend?” Another one of them joked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.” Fred stated confidently, tossing in the obvious lie. “And I can tell you that brushing your teeth is one of the first requirements to getting a woman of this calibre,”

You resisted the urge to laugh at how his statement made their faces immediately meek and embarrassed.

“Well, if she wants a real man, that’s up to her to decide.” The man said gruffly. “Innit, princess?”

When he tossed out the nickname, you felt bile curl in your stomach, and it took you only a second to move when Fred uttered his next words to you.

“Grab your coat. We’re leaving.”

You scrambled around the table to get your jumper, mittens, hat, scarf, and your coat. As you were reaching across to one of the chairs to grab the last item, one of the men actually had the audacity to grab your wrist, stopping you from pulling back with the item in hand.

“If the girl wants to stay and have fun, that’s her choice.” He grumbled.

You wanted to tout that no, your idea of fun wasn’t hanging around men like this, but your voice was shrunken down into your throat with fear.

His grip around you was stiff and painful, and you immediately looked to Fred - whose jaw was set with a seething anger that you had only seen in him once before (when Malfoy had dared to insult Ginny right in front of him). He reached one hand into his pocket and leaned on the table with the other hand.

The man still didn’t let go of you, and you wondered if Fred’s hand was sitting on his wand in his pocket.

“Listen, bud, I don’t speak troll, so I’ll say this very slowly for you,” Fred announced, his voice dark with anger. “Let. Her. Go.”

The man immediately became outraged at being called a troll, and he moved his hand off your wrist, curling it into a hefty fist that he moved to swing at Fred’s head.

Fred ducked out of the way seamlessly, and you pulled your coat into the pile of clothes at your chest as Fred’s hand came out of his pocket with a lump of something black that looked almost like ordinary coal. He tossed it down to the floor and it exploded into a cloud of pure, thick darkness. Before you could truly comprehend what was going on, Fred’s comforting arm was around your shoulders, guiding you back out the back door of the pub.

You were thankful to be surrounded by cool air, the anxiety unwinding around you as Fred guided you away from the scene.

“Freddie, that was amazing!” You gasped, more than happy to praise him for saving you from those creeps.

You trudged along through the snow, incredibly chilly now that the wind kissed your bare arms and you held your jumper and your jacket rather than wearing them. But you were distracted from that feeling as you stared at the pub. You heard muffled coughs and voices loudly complaining, and as you circled around to the front, you saw the dark smoke overtaking any light that was inside, so much so that it began to pour out from the chimney and leak out of the cracks around the front door.

“What was that?” You had to ask, looking on in pure curiosity of the concoction that he had released into the pub.

“...new product George and I have been working on,” Fred admitted, his voice quivering with nerves slightly as he heard the coughs and sputters from inside. “Should probably adjust the size of the pellets, though. That was a bit… much.”

“Everything about you is ‘much’, Fred.” You said, still feeling that beautiful drunken warmth. It morphed into pure admiration toward him that you could hardly hold back. “That’s what makes you great.”

Fred chuckled at this.

He helped you get dressed back in your warm clothes, and the two of you walked back to the castle through that secret tunnel once again. He never quite built up the courage to get back to that topic he had so badly wanted to discuss - the entire reason he had taken you to Hogsmeade in the first place. But he basked in the simple joys of the night as the two of you talked in the Gryffindor common room and eventually, you fell asleep cuddled up to his chest while lounging on a couch in front of the fire.

…

Now, all these years later, curled up on the couch with him much like you had been that night - you finally realised what he had been trying to say.

“Oh my god.” You gasped quietly, opening your eyes and sitting stark upright.

Fred was surprised by this, seeing as he thought that you were starting to fall asleep on his chest. He had been sitting there quietly, mentally debating if he should levitate you to bed or risk the neck cramps of sleeping upright on the couch himself.

“What?” He asked quietly, feeling entirely clueless.

“Oh. My. God!” You screamed, jumping off the couch and pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“What? What?!” He asked, the word growing in volume and sense of alarm in his mouth the longer you went without telling him what was wrong.

“That day - that day-” You were struggling to gather your thoughts into words, a drunken slur still slightly evident on your tongue. Though the anxiety and panic that had suddenly set in had woken up quite a few of your senses.

“What? What day?” Fred parroted back, even more confused.

“That day.” You repeated, pressing emphasis on the word. “That time, back in sixth year, when we snuck out to Hogsmeade.”

A look of dawning came across Fred’s features, and he became more sullen than you had ever seen him. It was something that punched you sharply in the chest as the realisation hit you even harder now.

You had been so stupid. How could you not have known it back then?

“You… you were gonna confess your feelings to me.” You said quietly, almost afraid to speak the words aloud.

Perhaps he could have saved himself some pain if he lied, but he saw no good sense in denying it.

“Yes.” He said quietly, unshed tears scraping the inside of his throat.

“What-?” Now it was your turn to gape with confusion. “Was that the only time? Why then?”

“That certainly was not the only bloody time.” Fred chuckled, the laughter sounding heavy and dark in his throat rather than joyous and light as it usually did coming from him. “I tried about a million other times before then - at the Quidditch World Cup, before we ran into your cousins who just so desperately needed your attention. On the train that year, before Katie burst in and stole you away to chat on about what a great summer you had. I thought perhaps you’d get the bloody point when I asked you to be my date to the Yule Ball.”

It felt as though an icy shard was shoved right through your heart.

You had been so stupid.

“I - I thought you asked me to go as friends.” You told him, entirely honest about your viewpoint.

“Well that just makes me feel like the biggest arse in existence.” Fred shrugged.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You barked out, feeling an intense frustration rush over you.

You felt indignant, annoyed. You felt like something had been stolen from you - information, time that you should have spent with Fred as your boyfriend rather than the time you had spent simply wishing he was.

Fred scoffed at this, clearly hurt.

“Well, Y/N, at a certain point, I lost my balls!” He shouted back. That was a harsh thing to imagine - Fred Weasley losing the courage to take a risk. “I thought that after all the damn interruptions, the universe just didn’t want you to know that I’m hopeless bleedin’ in love with you.”

Your throat clenched up when he said it in the present tense - said like he still had those feelings for you. You wanted so badly to say it back, but your voice was caught in your throat for a harsh moment. It caused a pitiable silence over the room that made him rush to continue.

“Honestly, I thought - I thought it might be different after you left.”

He said quietly, his voice breaking around the words slightly.

“I thought that not seeing you every day… that I might be able to forget how I felt. But it only got worse. I thought about you every single day, and I missed you so badly. And now that you’re standing here in front of me - now, you’re not just some girl I fancied in school, now… you have turned into this magnificent woman that I love. And it would be my biggest regret if you didn’t know that.”

Fred confessed, his words so passionate that it caused tingles down your spine, and goosebumps across your arms.

“But you’re probably so drunk that you won’t remember this in the morning, and there’s probably some French arsehole named Pierre waiting for you-”

“There’s no one else.” You quickly blurted out, suddenly finding your voice.

Your body finally caught up to your mind, bursting with the urge for him to know this.

“It’s always been you, Fred Weasley.” You announced, your words slicing through the air like a diamond cutting through glass.

His eyes lit up and this, and he stared at you with the slightest bit of hope dancing across his features as he waited, holding his breath for you to possibly confirm the thing he had been dreaming about for years.

“And I certainly won’t forget this. No booze or potion - nothing could make me forget you saying the words I have always wanted to hear.”

You reached out and took a tight grip on the front of his shirt, pulling him toward you with force - you slammed your lips into his, finally doing the thing you had been dreaming of since you were a teenager. He let out a moan as you kissed him with as much intense passion as he had put into his words. Right as his tongue snaked toward your lips, you pulled back for a breath, and simply for good measure:

“I love you, Fred.” You breathed out.

“Oh, thank Merlin.”

#sundrop writes #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred wealsey fic

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