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squidyyy23 · 2 years

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for his honey 🍯

ian’s impressed when his husband’s business savvy helps them expand their farm. and he's going to make sure he knows it.

we all know @gallawitchxx is the queen bee of the birthday trope mashup ficlets. but what about her birthday prompt: alternate universe with characters who work together? so here you go, babe. a little something for your bee-day 🐝

rating: [be]e (<- "i was hoping for something a bit spicer". challenge accepted. 🌶) word count: 3.5k

and shoutout to sara @shameless-notashamed for the brilliant beta brain

read below the cut or on ao3 🍯🐝

Mickey’s phone vibrates in his pocket. It takes a moment for him to register the feeling against his leg out here surrounded by the familiar white noise of his bees buzzing away in their hives. He slides the frame back into the box, quickly removes his gloves, sets them beside his well-used smoker, and answers the call.

“He signed the contract!” an excited woman squeals through the speaker. He winces, holding the phone farther away from his ear. “I’ll swing by with a copy for you two to sign tomorrow.”

Mickey’s beaming when he hangs up. Victorious.

“Who was that?” Ian brushes the dirt off his hands and wanders over from where he’d been working in his garden.

It’s curiosity only, an interest in his husband’s life. Not an ounce of distrust or jealousy. They’d long gotten over all that shit. Solid for over a decade.

“Realtor,” Mickey answers.

“Realtor?” Ian repeats, confused.

“We got it.” Mickey doesn’t bother to hide his accomplished smile. Hell of a fight, but he did it.

“We got what?” Ian still hasn’t caught on.

“It. The land. The expansion.”

“Wait, what? I thought—” Mickey watches the realization wash over him. “How?”

“I have my ways.” Mickey smirks.

“‘Course you do.” Ian’s body language softens, excitement morphing into something else. Something notably hotter than even the warm summer air. “You always make shit happen.”

Damn straight he does.

Mickey looks around at all they’ve built. Their respectable plot of land. The couple acres of bee farm. The sizable garden they cleared last year for Ian’s crops. The small country store by the road where they sell their local, organic honey—and more recently, Ian’s produce and quickly-becoming-famous jarred tomato sauce—to tourists passing through on their way to their fancy-ass vacation homes in the mountains. A huge step up from the booth they used to lug around to every farmer’s market in a hundred-mile radius.

Ever since Ian followed his gardening passions to grow their business, he’s been whining about not having enough space to grow all the shit he wants. Nerdy ass motherfucker has all dozen of his beds mapped out in a goddamn spreadsheet trying to squeeze in as many things as possible.

They’d talked about trying to purchase the empty lot behind theirs. Called up a realtor. Paid a fucking appraiser to come out and give them an estimate of the land’s value. Sat down one very long night with the books and crunched the numbers. It was doable.

Only stumbling block was the prick who currently owned it. Some old, rich, white, republican asshole whose family bought up half the town generations ago. Jackass in a suit with zero intention of ever using the land for anything other than stroking his own ego.

So they made him an offer in line with said ego. Too generous if you asked Mickey, but Ian was so eager to make it happen that Mickey’d agreed. The response came back the very same day. No. Dickwad had refused to even consider it.

Ian wrote it off as a lost cause and sulked around for a week. But Mickey didn’t plan on letting it go that easily. If this guy thought he could bully them around just because he had a half-decent education and a pile of daddy’s money, he had another thing coming.

Kind of shit Terry would have pulled if he’d had the power. The thought only pissed Mickey off and made him want to fuck the guy over even more. His fist-fighting days might be over, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still up for a good challenge. Don’t fuck with a man’s honey.

“Can’t believe you kept going after him.” Ian steps into Mickey’s space. Drapes his arms over his shoulders. “Thought we’d given up.” A familiar fire burns in his eyes.

Mickey looks up into Ian’s heated gaze. “My husband’s got eight hundred varieties of tomatoes to grow. Think I’m gonna let some jackass stand in the way of that?” He grins, a mischievous thing, knowing damn well what these kinds of things do to Ian.

In an instant, Ian’s lips are on his, his tongue slipping through Mickey’s smile.

God, he fucking loves this man. All these years and it never gets old. Still that same rush. That same fluttering in his gut.

Ian’s arms slide down and wrap around Mickey’s back, those huge hands spread possessively across his rib cage. Mickey lets his hands fall from Ian’s waist to his hips where he slips his thumbs into the band of his dirty jeans and tugs. Not enough to pull them off, but enough to convey the message.

Hands drop to Mickey’s hips, pulling them forward and holding him steady as Ian grinds their already half-hard dicks together. Mickey swallows down the low moan breathed into his mouth before Ian pulls back, stepping away in his best effort to restrain himself.

“Not here,” Ian says.

“Jesus Christ. This again?” Mickey complains, wiping sweat from his brow, a combination of heat and arousal.

“I just can’t,” Ian whines. “The endless buzzing. Thousands of tiny eyes. Watching.” He makes a show of visibly shuddering at the thought.

“They’re bees. They aren’t fucking watching. Pretty sure they don’t give a shit to see us bang.”

“What if one stings your dick?”

“Seriously?” Mickey grouches. “Used to fuck behind the hives at the school almost every day. Never used to complain then.” But Mickey starts gathering his bee-keeping supplies into his toolbox anyway.

“Actually, yes. Yes, I did, but I put up with it ‘cause it was the only spot your dad would never come near.” Ian helps him pack up his tools.

There really was something funny about the fact that Terry—the big, tough, drug-running, child-abusing piece of shit—was terrified of some tiny, fuzzy insects. Maybe that’s part of what drew Mickey to bee-keeping. A quiet way to piss on his father.

Mickey hadn’t even known what apiculture was when he’d signed up for the high school’s agriculture program as his junior year elective. But it sounded like an easy class, and maybe he’d pick up some tips to up production from his weed plants. And of course Ian was there, damn hippie with a provider complex, eager to learn how to feed his whole family from a handful of seeds.

Ended up being the only period Mickey never skipped. Surprisingly, some of the material still managed to sink in even if he did spend every class staring at silky red hair.

They rush back to the store in record time, teasing each other the whole way. Mickey grabs at Ian’s dick, tickling his balls through his jeans. Ian slaps his ass when Mickey turns to run, a seductive waggle to his strut. Flirty and fun, always bringing out that youthful energy in each other.

Finally, they reach the back door, slamming it open as they bumble their way inside, practically tripping over each other on their quest to get behind the locking door of their office. But of fucking course, the bell chimes, and in walks an elderly couple, probably retired, traveling through in that giant-ass RV Mickey can see through the front windows.

And Mickey’s about to get real bitchy with these cockblocking customers, already sucking in a breath ready to blow, when Ian’s hand lands on his chest. Cool it, tiger. Can’t be scaring off the money makers.

Mickey lets it out, restrains himself just enough, tapping his foot while Ian goes off to greet the couple. He watches Ian show them around the store, offering samples of their most popular varieties of honey.

It’s a small shop, but it’s nice. Theirs. Mickey ain’t ashamed to admit he’s proud of it.

After what seems like hours to Mickey’s impatiently pulsing dick, Ian finally rings them up. Managed to sweet talk them into three bottles of honey, a jar of his precious tomato sauce, and even one of Franny’s handmade bracelets on display by the register. Mickey’s always impressed by his husband’s salesman skills, but Jesus fuck, can he not be so fucking nice to everyone all the damn time?

Ian flips the sign on the door to “closed”. His eyes land on Mickey, fucking him up and down from across the room. Mickey’s ass clenches in anticipation. Then the tension snaps, the both of them darting toward the office in the same instant.

Mickey makes it there first. By the time he turns around, Ian’s locking the door behind them, shirt already stripped off somewhere along the way. Fucker really hates shirts.

Before Mickey can blink, Ian’s got him shoved up against the wall, his body pinning him hard against the old wood paneling. He smells like dirt and sun and tomato leaves. Up this close, Mickey can see the pollen dusting across his nose, hiding amongst the freckles.

“Now tell me,” Ian growls into the crook of Mickey’s neck, breath hot against his skin, “how you broke that bastard into selling you the land.” Mickey tilts his head back, exposing more flesh to Ian’s busy lips. “Into giving you what you wanted.”

“Told him— fuck.” Ian pulls the collar of Mickey’s shirt open with his teeth, revealing even more skin to be ravaged.

“Tell me,” Ian chides.

Mickey sucks in a shaky breath. “Told him if he didn’t hand over the land, the ABF, USDA, and EPA would be up his ass ‘bout fucking with an endangered species’ natural habitat. Went after the fuckers money. ‘Course he folded.”

Mickey leaves out the part about slipping his brother some cash to “look into the guy” just in case the legal threats didn’t pan out. But if he never had to use the blackmail, Ian didn’t need to know.

“Money’s all that prick’s got in his life.” Mickey hisses as Ian grinds their hips together at just the right angle. “Doesn’t have a hunk of a husband like I do.”

Ian smiles at him like Mickey just came home with the winning lottery ticket.

“Fuck, I married the sexiest man on the planet.”

Ian reaches under Mickey’s ass and lifts his feet off the floor. Mickey circles his arms around his neck, holding on as their mouths crash together. Knocking teeth. Bruised and bitten lips.

Then Ian’s moving. Stumbling backward. Mickey’s too lost in their fervid kisses to pay much mind, trusting completely in his husband. At Ian’s mercy, always.

The back of his legs hit the edge of the desk, and Ian sets him down. The perfect height to line their mouths up just right.

Mickey’s hands work their way into Ian’s hair, tugging at the strands and scratching at his scalp. Ian clasps Mickey’s cheeks, his thumbs rubbing soft circles along his jawline, a stark contrast to the way he sucks Mickey’s lips between his teeth and pinches.

They’re both panting when they finally part for air. Ian’s fingers frantically unfasten Mickey’s jeans. Mickey uses his arms wrapped around Ian’s neck to pull him up enough for Ian to slide them off, exposing his bare ass to the polished wood.

He hears seams popping when Ian yanks Mickey’s shirt over his head. Ian wraps him in his strong arms and moans when their naked chests press together.

“You showed that asshole who’s boss,” Ian says, stepping back and stripping out of his own pants. “Now let me show yours.”

He rounds the desk. In one fluid movement, he swipes everything on its surface to the ground. Pens scatter, papers go flying, but it’s just a mess. They learned long ago not to keep anything fragile on there.

The handle nearly tears off the drawer Ian pulls it open with such force. He grabs the bottle of office lube and slams it on the cleared surface.

He stalks back in front of Mickey. Grabs his chin for one quick but all-consuming kiss before turning him around by the shoulder. A rough shove to Mickey’s upper back and he’s bent over the desk. His exposed asshole clenched, waiting.

“Fuck,” Ian whispers behind him. Raspy. Reverent. Fingertips trail down his spine. “Gorgeous like this. Still can’t believe I get to have this.”

A swift palm to Mickey’s left cheek has him gasping in surprise. He melts further into the desk, surrendering to the sweet, sweet sting on his skin.

So that’s how this is going to go. Mickey closes his eyes and curls his bottom lip between his teeth. He mentally runs through the possibility of buying up all the neighboring land if this is the reward.

Ian must have lubed up while Mickey was lost in his thoughts because suddenly he’s being filled, Ian crooking his finger into that perfect spot right off the bat.

“Ah, fuck. Holy fuck,” Mickey moans, burying his face in his arms.

His back arches into the pressure, his legs already starting to shake. From one finger. Fuck, his husband owns him.

One finger quickly turns into two, Ian scissoring them open for that achingly good stretch. He folds himself over Mickey’s body, planting soft kisses on the still-warm flesh of Mickey’s slapped cheek, Ian’s lips buzzing against skin when he moans into it.

He’ll never get over the sounds of his husband getting off to Mickey’s pleasure. From Mickey just being. Just submitting. Riles Ian up just as much as having his dick in Mickey’s mouth.

Then he adds a third finger to the mix. Fucks them into him good and hard while his other hand snakes around to stroke Mickey’s cock, his lips never leaving Mickey’s skin. Never enough to push him over that edge, just enough to keep him teetering right on it.

And then, fuck, then another. A glorious fourth finger that has Mickey drooling over the desk, his mouth hanging open as frankly inhuman sounds escape his lungs. His hips sway on his shaking legs as he adjusts to the sensation.

Spread. Stretched. Stuffed.

By his husband.

“Fuck,” Ian purrs and Mickey can feel him stand up behind him. “Take it so good, baby. Doing such a good job for me.”

Even with his eyes closed, Mickey can picture the look on Ian’s face as he stands back and soaks in the view. Half his hand buried in Mickey’s slick ass bent over the table.

Ian twists his fingers inside Mickey’s pulsing hole and they both groan in unison. Mickey’s not sure which one of them is enjoying this more.

“Love it when you let me use this perfect hole of yours,” Ian goes on, his voice sending shivers up Mickey’s spine. “Let me treat you like the queen you are.”

And Mickey’s preening under Ian’s attention, his body opening up to accept whatever Ian wants to give him.

It took him a while to get used to this, to get comfortable with it—Ian showering him in praise and affection—after a lifetime of hurt and neglect. Never learned how to process such positive words.

But now he loves it. Has learned to relish in it. Sometimes even beg for it. The assurance of how much his husband loves his body, loves him, all of him, soothing like warm tea and honey.

Ian keeps up his sensuous torment—fucking his fingers into him, spouting words both sweet and filthy into his ear—until Mickey’s legs can barely hold him up any longer.

Finally, Ian takes mercy on him. Reluctantly removes his digits, leaving Mickey empty, his cheeks clenching down hard in search of something, anything, to get that feeling back.

A strong hand wraps around his waist, stands him up, supporting most of his weight, and lowers both of them to the ground, Mickey coming to settle on his sore ass between Ian’s spread legs. Ian’s twitching cock presses against Mickey’s back, smearing wet slickness across his sweaty skin.

His tongue licks a heavy stripe up Mickey’s neck ending in sharp nibbles to his ear. “So fucking proud of my man,” whispered so soft Mickey’s not entirely sure he didn’t imagine it. But no, he didn’t. Ian’s just like that.

Then Ian’s flipping them, pinning Mickey on his back on the plush carpet—the first and only thing they’ve remodeled in the place.

Ian straddles him, hovering painfully close but not close enough over Mickey’s thighs. He stares down at him. Pupils blown. Lost to the sight.

Mickey’s body writhes beneath him, hips bucking sky high in an attempt to find something to grind against. Friction or pressure or fucking something before he implodes under Ian’s gaze.

“You have no idea how sexy you look right now.” Ian has the audacity to smirk at him. Like he isn’t torturing the man in the most beautiful of ways.

“Please. Please, Ian,” Mickey begs, his voice hoarse and shaking. Full of desire and lust and need he’s long since stopped trying to hide.

He loves his husband. Loves the way he makes him feel. There’s no shame in that.

Ian smiles. A devious thing. Victory.

Mickey doesn’t even care.

Then he dips his head, marking his way up Mickey’s body. A trail of both teeth and suction bruising over his stomach, his chest, even the soft underside of his arm, that ultra-sensitive spot Mickey never knew he loved until Ian explored every inch of him. Ian finishes up his warpath across his neck, leaving hickies Mickey knows he won’t be able to hide.

Mickey thinks briefly of the third graders Ian invited to tour the farm tomorrow. “Come on, Mick. We’ll make it educational. Gotta get the next generation interested if we’re gonna save the bees.” Hopefully, the swarm of eight-year-olds will believe the marks are bee stings. A simple workplace hazard.

Someone sure is a hazard around this workplace, alright.

Finally, Ian’s lips make it all the way to Mickey’s. Tongues tangle in search of that familiar taste.

Ian’s splayed out against him, the full length of their naked bodies pressed against each other. Mickey squirms, rutting his cock against Ian’s, but it’s not enough. He’s still so achingly empty he’s convinced his body will turn to dust if he doesn’t get his ass filled soon.

“Ian. I need— I need—” His brain is too lost to get the right words to his mouth, but Ian understands.

His husband reaches under Mickey’s weakened legs and helps him wrap them around his waist. He lines them up. Mickey’s nails dig into Ian’s back as he braces himself.

Then, Ian’s pounding into him in one swift motion. He sinks to the hilt on the first thrust, Mickey’s hole already so stretched and ready for him.

Mickey registers the feeling of the scream leaving his chest but can’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears. Finally. Filled. Perfectly. By the perfect one.

Ian keeps up the relentless rhythm—good and hard, just the way Mickey likes it—until Mickey’s close. Right back on that edge. He mutters incoherent sounds until Ian gets a hand on his dick and grants him that long-awaited orgasm in three solid strokes.

Fucking ecstasy right here on the office floor. Anywhere Ian is.

Ian drags his come-slick hand up Mickey’s chest, rubbing it into his skin. Mickey hisses, all the sensations too much on the comedown.

Ian slows his thrusts, not ready to separate just yet, but eases up on Mickey’s pleasure-wrecked body.

“God, I fucking love you.” Ian’s eyes lock on Mickey’s, boring through him as he rocks his cock inside his still pulsing hole. “Fucking perfect. No one else I’d want to do this with. All of this.”

And with that, Ian’s face screws up, his eyes slamming shut against his will as he spills inside of him.

Ian’s arms shudder, his elbows give, and he collapses on top of Mickey’s chest where they stay. It takes a solid minute for the buzzing in Mickey’s ears to fade out. For his vision to clear. The tingling in his fingers and toes to subside.

He swallows. His throat feels raw. Must have been too lost to realize just how loud he’d gotten. One of the perks of being out here in the boonies. Not that neighbors would stop Mickey anyhow. Nothing a shot of homegrown honey won’t soothe.

When they’ve finally recovered, Mickey crawls his way over to the desk and opens the bottom drawer. The one where they keep the financial shit Ian avoids at all costs.

He watches Ian’s face as Mickey pulls out the supplies he’d stashed there days ago when it looked like the deal might actually go through. A picnic blanket. A grocery bag of Pringles and Snickers bars. A couple joints, the good shit from their buddy’s farm. And, even though Mickey thinks it’s disgusting, a bottle of champagne because he knows Ian loves that kind of sappy crap.

Ian’s eyes well up, soft motherfucker, and he smiles.

“For the official celebration,” Mickey says, holding up the bottle.

“You…” Ian trails off, for once at a loss for words.

“Here,” Mickey grabs one last thing from the drawer. A packet of seeds. “Let’s go plant some fucking tomatoes. As many as you want.”

Ian grabs Mickey’s face. Presses their lips together again. But this time they’re soft and slow. An I love you and thank you.

Sweet as honey.

#little sweet. 🍯 little spice. 🌶#who knew we needed beekeeper!mickey in our lives?#content warning: excessive bee-related content 😂#fuck this went off the rails somewhere #but you know i can’t resist a good bee pun #i’m just sticking to your brand okay?!?!#sticking. like honey.#alright alright. i’m done now. i promise.#happy birthday sweet thing! hope you have the most excellent of days. 😘#shameless fanfic #gallavich fic #ian x mickey #squid words 🦑

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twobraincellkentwell · 5 months

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Lucky Ones

[A Game Called Revenge]

Part Sixteen

Series Masterlist Part One.

Summary: "ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢʀʏ ᴍᴀɴ ɪꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀɴɢʀʏ ᴏɴᴇ." The first evening of the 75th Hunger Games is filled with surprisingly melancholy words and plans of action.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the nature of content in some of the chapters. Murder and death. Mentions of sex probably.

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Goooooodddddd eveninggggg. Firstly I want to just say my usuals, I have a favourite line so if you can find it then let me know :) reblogs, shares and comments always appreciate.

Clio rifles through the stacks of supplies inside the metal walls of the cornucopia in search of foodstuffs and fresh water. As she rummages through the items they’ve been provided with, the others sit at the front of the structure to watch the water idly, and she notices the lack of items that they are so used to having access to in their respective games and their training. There is no food, no canteens of cold freshwater, no matches to help cook food or provide warmth, no sleeping bags or rope; just piles upon piles of shiny, metal weapons.

“There’s nothing in here!” She calls out to the others. “No fucking food and not even a drop of water.”

The three of them push themselves to a stand, joining her inside to sort through the mountain of weapons. Each of them deconstructs a stack each, putting aside any of the weapons they could have a use for while carelessly throwing the useless items into a corner inside their shelter.

“Maybe someone got to the food before us?” Cashmere shrugs as she goes to sit on the rocks outside again.

“They couldn’t have. The only people who got even close enough to the front were Finnick and Everdeen and besides they’d have put more than one bag in here if there was any at all.” Cato answers her before he rests his sword against the wall of the cornucopia and takes a running start into the salt water so that he can wash the blood from his body.

“Speaking of the girl on fire. You were next to her, how didn’t you catch her?” Gloss asks, venom dripping from his voice.

“She’s a slimy little weasel, man.” Cato answers. He dunks himself under the water again, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the ends to remove the red that tints the golden strands.

“You came up next to her? And you didn’t kill her?”

“She’s your kill, angel. I wasn’t going to take that from you and it’s fine, we’ll get her tomorrow.” He drops his shoulders dismissively before pulling himself from the water and laying flat on his back on one of the spokes. Gloss, still annoyed if his pursed lips are any indication, spreads out the fifteen available knives into three piles of five. He passes five to his sister, keeps five for himself and gestures that the final five are for Clio; who slides two over to Cato - knowing that although he would be less likely to reach for that style of blade it wouldn’t hurt him to have backup incase he is, by some miracle, cornered without his sword.

“What about Romeo and Juliet?” Cato asks his girlfriend.

“Juliet’s very dead. I made sure of that.” Clio laughs, ignoring the confused glances being directed her way by her allies. “Romeo ran but I did promise her we’d kill him too.”

“Romeo and Juliet?” Gloss questions with a furrowed brow.

“The stupid couple from Ten. Almost as pathetic as the fire girl and her bread man.”

“We have to change our plan.” Cashmere tells them after a beat of silence. “If Finnick’s really run off with the Capitol’s favourite couple then-”

“Second favourite couple.”

“Yeah. If he’s gone into the jungle with the Capitol’s second favourite couple then he’ll have told them all about our plans by now.”

“Fuck!” Clio shouts, grabbing the largest of her knives and finding the nearest body, now discarded on the edge of the island. The male morphling. In a rage, she kneels over the top of the man, letting out an angry screech and digging her knife into the skin above his eyelids. Peeling back the skin she is met with the lifeless eyes of the man which she quickly plunges her knife into one and carves the other out with the tip of the blade severing the nerves and connective tissue in the sensory organ. She pulls the slimy ball from the socket and whacks it harshly in the direction of the jungle as if she was back playing rounders in the Academy courtyard as a child. She then hooks the blade underneath his neck, pushing through until the knife re-surfaces through his cupid's bow; the crushing sound of his upper jawbone like music to her ears. When she feels a presence next to her, she doesn’t have to look up to realise it’s Cato when the blade of his sword pierces the man’s windpipe so forcefully that the sound of the tip hitting the rocks echoes throughout the arena. He brings his sword out and pushes it back in as her knife finds his chest, strategically managing to avoid the pre-existing gash. The sounds of the two blades ripping open wetsuit and flesh alike is all the four careers can hear as they take turns plunging their weapons into his body before the first cannon sounds, signalling for them to retreat from the morphling’s already limp form and sit beside their allies to count the cannons.

None of them move or speak as the cannon blasts continue - Cashmere ticks them off with her fingers but doesn’t count aloud, not saying anything until the final boom fades away and the arena falls practically silent. Only the noises of their breathing and the jungle wildlife mingle with the faint humming of a hovercraft that flies overhead.

“Eight.” Clio shrugs casually while she drops to the floor and lies back in the sunlight. “At least that’s what I counted.”

“Mine too.” Gloss lets out a sigh as he splashes water over his face before dipping his weapons into the seawater.

The four of them lie beside each other as they debate trying to catch some kind of exotic fish or venturing into the jungle in search of drinking water before a comfortable silence falls over them as the sun begins to set on the arena, tinting the water orange with the reflection.

“God it’s hot.” Cato groans as he breaks off a small piece from the rocky island and splits it into several pieces that he skims across the water that crashes into the spokes.

“Might be too hot.” Gloss laughs as he reaches to grab from Cato’s pile of rocks and joins him in throwing them into the water; leading to the two of them engaging in a friendly competition of who can throw the stones the furthest. Clio and Cashmere watch in amusement as they joke around with each other; both acutely aware that their friendship is doomed.

“What the fuck was that?” They ask in unison when a loud spark of electricity comes from deep inside the thick jungle and they await the sound of a cannon. Nothing comes, even when a shrill scream punctuates the air after the zap. The claws then begin to scoop up the bodies that lay around them on their little island, and the sound of one of the claws scraping against the metal tail of the cornucopia grates on them for a second and makes them question their decision to stay near the structure.

“If I’m destined to die in this hellscape then I’ll be damned if I don’t at least swim in it.” Clio announces once the last claw has collected the final body floating beside one of the podiums. She jumps to her feet and kicks off the socks and black boots that confine them, placing them beside the cornucopia. Breaking into a run, she dives into the water and although warm, it provides a nice reprieve from the warm, steamy humidity. Once she breaks the surface, she moves her hands to her hair, untying the elastic bobbles and separating the strands with her fingers so she can wash away all the blood that has dried to the ends. Leaning backwards, she spreads her body out into a star-fish position so she can float as she watches the oranges and pinks of the sunset.

“When I go, I just hope it’s quick. I hope it’s beautiful.” Gloss mutters, mostly to himself but the tension seems to double as his allies turn their attention to him.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t go at all.” Cashmere replies, eyes swirling with hurt and terror as she pushes away her brother’s attempts to comfort her. “Please don’t say stuff like that, even if you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking, Cash. Three of us are going to have to die for there to be a winner, and I’d rather it be me than you.”

Clio flips onto her front when his words fill her ears, suddenly remembering Enobaria’s warning that she can’t truly trust either of her allies from One. Gloss is playing the exact same game as she is; fully prepared to remove himself from the equation for his loved one to leave alive. She swims the few strides back to the island, reaching over the edge and securing the knife holster around her hips and thigh and sheathing her three knives inside. They watch as she swims backwards further into the water, not taking her eyes off the siblings as Cato lifts himself to his feet and picks up his sword.

“Woah, man I’m not going to kill you yet. Not with over half of them still out there.” Gloss laughs as he pushes his own knives away from him and in the direction of the cornucopia while he dangles his legs over the edge of the island.

Cato walks down the spoke nearest to Clio, steps slowing as he approaches the water’s edge. With a decisive nod, he lets the heavy sword fall onto the rocks. A temporary truce. The wind rushes past him as he launches himself into the open air, throwing his legs over his head in messy rotation before he hits the water with a loud splash that erupts in every direction.

“Where do you learn to do that?” Clio laughs, shaking her head at him when he surfaces.

“Cool right?”

“I’ve seen better.” She teases as she scoops up a handful of water and sends it flying towards his face.

“Oh that’s it.” Cato gasps in fake shock, chopping at the waves to send sprays of water splashing into her as she rubs her eyes. “You’re on.”

Cato rushes towards her, submerging his body underwater and grabbing at her ankle the second he was in reach. Clio lets out a shriek as she goes under, kicking her legs to try and avoid him grabbing them again before he relents. Coming up and spluttering saltwater, she tries to catch her breath, swimming closer to a spoke to rest against, whilst he covers his eyes with his hands and blinks quickly to try and get rid of the stinging sensation. After a few seconds rest she is intent on getting her revenge, quickly swimming over and splashing more water into his space. He recovers quicker than she expected, however, and chases her towards where his sword rests on the rocky strip. Their laughter rings out throughout the dome, something which, if Clio had to guess, probably unnerves some of the other tributes who hide out in the forest. They playfully taunt each other as they chase, seemingly forgetting their surroundings; with one surging ahead in a burst of energy only to be overtaken by the other closer to the spoke and resulting in a change of direction to avoid getting caught. Finally, they begin to tire out, resting their backs against the spoke as they look at the darkening sky and quickly recall their environment. Their eyes flit quickly to Cashmere and Gloss who still sit at the edge of the island, watching the two of them with amusement in their eyes before averting their gaze to the sky. Distracted by the few stars beginning to appear above them, a smile spreads across Clio’s face before she breaks into a laugh when Cato grabs her and begins to make the swim over to the other side of the segment with her wrapped around his front. With her head constantly being dunked underneath the surface, she wraps her arms around his neck and pretends to choke him.

“If you’re trying to get me to stop, it won’t work.” He grins, “I kind of like it when you do that.”

“Shut up. You have such a dirty mind.” She says as she releases one of her arms to playfully punch him on his shoulder. She feels him grip the back of her thighs, not even able to finish her exclamation before she is thrown into the water ahead of her; swallowing mouthfuls of the salty water.

Her hand rises above the surface before the rest of her body does and the three of them at the island laugh as her middle finger emerges from the water, followed by her body shooting upwards. “I’m going to fucking get you for that.”

She bursts out laughing and lets Cato carry her to the line of rocks and they pull themselves up to sit on top of it, catching their breath while their hair and skin begins to dry almost instantly with the high humidity in the arena. As she goes to lie back, her hand goes to her thigh, noticing that two of her three knives had slipped out of the holster whilst they were in the water. Fucking brilliant , she thinks, I have a little fun in my last few days and I’ve lost my fucking weapons. But she knows that drawing attention to her mistake would be stupid, so she keeps silent and remains seated upright. Feeling Cato wrap his arm around her and pull her into his wet, toned torso, she squints her eyes at him as he cups her face in his hand and swipes at the water running from her forehead before leaning in towards her and placing a kiss to her lips.

“What are we going to do about them?” She asks him, against his lips.

“Who do you mean?” He questions her back and kisses her again.

“Our friends .” She wipes a drop of water that falls from his hair onto the tip of his nose. “When are we going to kill the wonder siblings off?”

“It’s your call.” He says, continuing when she raises an eyebrow at him. “You decide and I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Really?” She laughs. “That was easy.”

“Shut up.” He mirrors her words from earlier. His arm moves from its resting position on her hip, gliding to the small of her back where he gives a sharp push, sending her crashing into the water again whilst he laughs.

“Cato!” She shouts, “I swear-”

Her sentence is interrupted by the high-pitched chimes of four silver pods finally floating their way down to their camp. Cashmere is the first to reach them, jumping up to collect each one, and it’s her who separates them. Two parcels labelled ‘Two’, and two parcels labelled ‘One.’ Climbing out of the water, she joins Cato and her two other allies as they grab their weapons and move their camp underneath the metal structure.

‘Stop fucking about in the water. We do not have the energy to mentor your single shared brain cell if this is how you’re going to use it.’

“Oh that’s real nice, Enobaria!” Clio laughs, as she looks up towards the sky as if talking directly to her mentors - and whoever else was listening. As they open the parcels, the first contains two metal flasks filled to the brim with ice cold water, complete with carabiner clips that can be fastened to their holsters, whilst the other contains an assortment of high protein foods. Trail mix, hard-boiled eggs, varieties of dried meat and fish jerky, granola and oat bars alongside and fruit. Sat in a diamond shape inside the Cornucopia, they chat amongst themselves as they swig large gulps from their flasks and eat half of their allocated package of food.

“What do you think you’d be doing if we weren’t in here?” Gloss asks them curiously, finishing off their his of beef jerky.

“Probably watching them the same way we did last year, I guess?” Cato shrugs, “and likely shouting at our tributes for not being able to figure out the arena.”

“And have you? Figured it out?”

“There’s twelve of those little slices so it has to do with the number of Districts.” Cato suggests.

“Well, obviously , but what do you think is in the jungle?” Cashmere questions.

“I think it’s gotta be separated like the water is.” He says as he rips one of the bread rolls in half and passes the half in his right hand to Clio. “Each slice of the jungle has got to have something from each of the Districts in it, you know, to make us want to go in.”

“Interesting.” Gloss hums, “Do you think we should go hunting tonight?”

“Nah, we should just stay here for the night. No one’s going to target the four of us together, and we don’t even know who’s out there yet.” Clio replies, resting her head on Cato’s shoulder.

“We can figure out a plan tomorrow then.” Cashmere suggests when she sees her brother nod out of the corner of her eye, before directing their conversation back to their lives. “If the Games didn’t exist then I think I’d have liked to work in social welfare.”

Three pairs of eyes turn to the blonde woman, as she fiddles with the shell of the nut she just cracked upon and continues speaking in a whisper, “Before we enrolled in the Academy, I used to go to preschool with these girls who were from the poorest families in the District and I would wish I could do something to help them. I was only five of course, but when I heard about what happened to them as we grew up, the same thing that happened to me after I won, I would’ve loved to be able to help. To make a difference to all the mistreated little girls in Panem.”

The genuine smile on her face drops once her admission passes her lips as her features transform into a cold expression, nostrils flaring in irritation and eyes glazing over slightly. “They don’t warn you about the things people say to you, do to you, when they think you’re pretty and quite frankly I’ve had enough of it. I’m more than my face. More than my body. I never had a choice, once Gloss won I always knew I would have to live up to that. I should have been allowed autonomy.”

Her volume increases as she looks up at the sky, directly into the several cameras that sit in the arena’s dome shaped covering. “Every little girl should be given a choice!”

“Cash-” Gloss tries to calm his sister down, if only to remove the flaming red target she’s just stapled to her back.

“She’s right.” Clio nods as she threads her fingers through Cato’s, an unspoken understanding between them.

“You too?” Cashmere asks her quietly, “I always thought that you Twos were spared from all that stuff.”

“Unfortunately not,” Clio shakes her head as silence falls over the group.

“I’d have liked to work with the medics. Maybe not as part of the healing teams because I haven’t got the smarts to be trained in that side of things but I think that I’d have made a good first responder. I’ve seen enough blood and death. Nothing would shock me anymore…” Gloss fills the silence. “What about you two?”

“I’ve never even thought about it before.” Cato admits. “Growing up in Two, anything and everything is about the Games. It’s all we’ve ever known, all we’ve got really. I’ve been wielding a sword since I was eight, I mean, all we did was train.”

“The plan was always to win and then return back to the Academy to train the other kids. I had to teach myself how to read properly, so I don’t think I’d be very useful without the Games.” Clio laughs, easily waving off her self-depreciation. “I wasn’t even a very good mentor so who knows.”

“That’s it?” Gloss asks in disbelief. “You’ve never thought of anything beyond the Games?”

“District Two is practically built around the Games. It’s not really like we had any other choice. You either die in the arena or become a victor, and if you’re not selected you just become a peacekeeper or stonemason.” Cato scoffs.

“I would’ve been a mum.” Clio says with a sigh. “We would’ve had kids, two little girls and a boy. Three mini Catos because there’s no way that any of my genes would’ve won out when his entire family looks as if they could be descendants of the Vikings.”

“Nope. I still believe that our oldest girl would have looked exactly like you, with perfect brown waves and warm hazel eyes.” Cato chimes in, rubbing his thumb in small circles along the back of her hand when their allies laugh at their playful bickering. “They’d have been the strongest kids you’d ever meet.”

“I guess we’ll never know,” Clio offers with a sad, wistful smile. “But it’s probably for the best since they’d have only ended up like us. Dark and twisted and slightly deranged, so maybe they’ve done us all a favour. Maybe not having them is the best way to protect them from all the shit we were subjected to.”

“Maybe.” Cashmere hums in agreement. “None of us really want to go home alone do we?”

Their silence is enough of an answer. They’re prepared to give the Capitol the show they want, but they know they don’t want it to have to come down to the four of them, or even worse, in Clio’s opinion, the two of them. She knows she isn’t prepared to kill Cato, and he isn’t prepared to kill her; just like how Cashmere and Gloss aren’t prepared to kill each other either.

Cashmere and Gloss don’t want to return to District One without each other. Without the sibling who they expected to be by their side, watching as they grew up. Each existing in separate lives, yet so intertwined by their bond. They refuse to go home to see the dejection in their parents’ eyes at their loss. They refuse to fight to return to a place where the only touch they receive is the sleazy hand of a paying customer, in something they do not wish to be a part of. They are not coming out without each other.

Clio doesn’t want to return to District Two without Cato. Without the boy she has loved since she was fourteen, the boy who she expected to spend the rest of her life with, the boy who was her support system throughout the tumultuous two years following her games. She refuses to go home to a house that would feel empty without him in it, without the pile of crumpled clothing she has to move every evening. She refuses to go home, only to see what was his house next to hers. She refuses to go home to have to actually use the stepstool in her kitchen, given that he wouldn’t be there to reach the glasses in the top cabinet. She is not coming out with him.

Cato doesn’t want to return to District Two without Clio. Without the girl whose first words to him were sarcastic and have continued to be his damnation ever since. He refuses to go home to a world where he is condemned to live a life where no one remembers his name, instead remembering him only as the winner of the quarter quell. He is not willing to return back to a nation where his only memorable trait would be killing the girl he loves. He refuses to go home to be met with the sight of her old house next door. He refuses to go home to an empty house. He refuses to let the smell of cinnamon fade from the kitchen but he’d never be able to stand the smell of it without her. He is not coming out without her.

And yet, as aware as they all are in this realisation that they don’t particularly want to live, they aren’t aware that the others sitting around them are, have all come to the same agreement; keep their partner alive at all costs, even if it means forcing a blade through your own heart with hesitation.

Before the silence gets too heavy to bear, Clio takes a large gulp out of her flask before pulling herself to her feet. “I think we should start to get some sleep. If we’re going to start hunting people down tomorrow then we need to be at least a little rested.”

“You go,” Cato suggests, “I’ll stay up to keep watch.”

“Me too,” Gloss agrees, cutting off his sister’s protests before they even begin. “Just try and sleep, Cash. I’ll be fine.”

“Wake us up when the anthem starts and we can switch after we know who our next target is.”

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loveandthings11 · 2 years

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How Deep My Love Goes, Chapter 2

Read on AO3 l Chapter 1

Roses

He’s talking low in her ear.

“Do you know how much I missed how you feel?” She’s inhaling him like a drug as he collapses on top on her. “I’m fucking obsessed with you,” he whispers. “That was fucking amazing.”

She smiles into his skin. He can feel it with the lights off.

“Mmmm, I definitely missed you… and your talents.” He’s been starving for her compliments and feels like he’s high again when she gives them. He smiles and looks into her eyes like that’s where the truth is.

“Oh, yeah?”

She holds eye contact while she pulls him closer.

“Oh, yeah,” she whispers as she kisses him, deep and messy, the way they only do in the dark.

They lie there in the quiet while their breathing slows. He kisses her shoulder and she closes her eyes. This is how it should be, how it had felt on their wedding night. They’d been safe and warm and listening to the waves outside.

After a few minutes she feels his energy shift and knows the worries of the last day are pulling him away. He moves to lie on his back and pulls her onto his chest. She knows what he’s thinking.

“Your dad’s going to be okay,” she says quietly, reaching up to give him a hug. He nods, but he’s not convinced.

Right now he’s trying to fill shoes that he fears are far too big. She wishes she could take away the heavy pressure on him from all sides. She’s never understood how he could do it. Logan never lets go of his son’s mistakes and he makes sure no one else does, either. He piles on constant reminders of the past.

She moves up so her face is next to Kendall’s. He’s staring at the ceiling and she gently places her hand on his face, guiding him back to look at her. Connection.

“You can do this,” she says. She’s the only one who’s ever said it to him, and it’s nice to hear a good answer to the question that’s been haunting him for 20 years. Once in a while, her words get through the ocean of doubt he lives in. Right now, he just wants to forget.

He rolls her over and brushes his lips over the soft skin on her neck. It sends tingles all over her body.

“Don’t you have to go to work at some point tomorrow?” She asks coyly.

“Fuck being CEO,” he mutters into her, kissing down her collarbone.

“Fuck being CEO?” The phrase is so absurd she can’t help but start laughing. He gives her a devious glance from his lowered place on her chest.

“I can’t go in. I can’t keep my hands off you that long.”

“Clearly!” She almost forgot how insatiable he is. His hands start wandering further. Electricity in the dark. She squeals as he touches a ticklish spot and it’s enough to make him need all of her right this second.

“That’s it,” he says. He locks his lips onto hers and slides the two of them back into the place where nothing else exists.

…………………………….

It’s early when she wakes up and light is streaming in through the curtains, all white and to the floor. He’s sleeping snuggled up next to her, curled into her with his hand on her heart. He must know it’s home, he’s always lived there. He’s breathing softly, finally feeling some peace. She smiles at him even though he doesn’t see it, and she thinks maybe everything else can wait.

He stirs and she wraps her arms around him. It’s the first thing he feels that day. He takes a breath and wonders if it’s the same dream he’s had before. It’s a hard one to wake up from. Her hand slowly rubs his back and he feels the ring on her finger. She hadn’t wanted to take it off last night. He inhales the scent of her skin. It’s real.

He opens his eyes and sees her soft smile, looking right at him. Sometimes you do get exactly what you want.

“Good morning,” she says to her husband. Her husband. It’s the first time they’ve been able to relax in forever. She loves the look he’s giving her. She loves all the colors in his eyes.

The world is still for a few minutes. Maybe an hour. Time slowly enters her consciousness.

“You know, we might have some visitors soon,” she says with a knowing glance. They share the sweet moment before he reluctantly untangles himself from her arms, reaching for his t-shirt on the side of the bed. He’d tried to put it back on last night and she’d shaken her head, pulling him back to her and bringing out that little bashful smile.

She slips on her silk robe from the chair and sits back down next to him on the bed. The fragrance of her fresh roses floats through the air. She wonders if he remembers they’re the same as the ones that surrounded them when he proposed all those years ago.

He gets up and goes into the closet. There’s no way but he has to check. Folded up on a top corner shelf are his old Harvard sweatpants, hiding from everyone but her. He puts them on and walks out to show her what he found, giving her that self-satisfied look that makes her bite her lip.

“I knew you were pining for me.” He looks so annoyingly pleased with himself and she tries to roll her eyes but smiles against her will. He nods. “Yeah, I knew it.” She’s shaking her head and trying not to laugh. “The photo, the sweatpants, what else did you- did you have a stash of my voicemails that you’d listen to at night? A collection of my shirts you would sleep with?” He can’t remember the last time he had this much fun.

“You thought of that really quickly, Ken, I think you might be projecting,” she laughs. He gets closer to the spot she’s sitting on on the bed.

“Yeah, don’t try to toss it back. These were in your closet.” She looks up at him, her favorite memories falling back into place.

“You live here again now, remember? So, actually, it’s your closet too.” He takes a second to take that in and blinks, smiling at her as that hits him. Maybe enough time has passed. Maybe she really has forgiven him.

They hear the patter of little feet coming down the hallway and she stands up, walking toward the door.

“You ready?” She asks. He’s never been so ready.

She opens the door a crack.

“Hi, you two,” she says happily. “I have a surprise for you!”

The anticipation is killing him.

“What, what??” Sophie asks excitedly.

“See for yourselves,” Rava says, swinging the door open. Their faces light up.

“DAD!” Sophie yells, running full speed and flinging herself at Kendall, hugging him with all of her might. He’s got his arms around her in one second and he looks so happy that Rava might cry. She walks with Iverson over to the side of the bed. Kendall sits down with one arm still around Sophie and gently puts the other one around him.

“Hey, buddy!” He says to his son, studying his face and glad to see him grin. Iverson looks back at his mom. Rava gives him an encouraging smile.

“Your dad’s going to be moving back in with us,” she says in an excited tone, and Kendall watches Sophie’s eyes widen. It seems like it’s really happening but it’s still hard to believe it could be this simple.

“Really??” Sophie asks, totally amazed. It’s just what he’d been hoping he’d get to see. “So you’re in love with each other again?”

They laugh to themselves.

“That’s right,” Rava’s relishing being able to take back the separation talk she’d had to give the kids by herself and lingering in exuberant eye contact with him over the kids’ heads.

“I thought you said love doesn’t come back,” Sophie says innocently, still smiling and gazing at her mom. Kendall’s eyes are gone in a second, staring straight down at the comforter.

Rava can barely look at either of them. It makes her queasy that Sophie remembers the awful thing she’d managed to say the day she had flown back from dropping him off at the treatment center and ending it all, when all her hopes were gone and she didn’t know if she’d ever get to touch him again. She summons the will to speak.

“…But sometimes, honey, you get very happy surprises. Dad is back!!” She exclaims, trying a little too hard to bring the excitement back. Sophie smiles, satisfied with the answer and content to cuddle up to her dad. He’s here and that’s all she needs to know. Kendall focuses on the bed and leaves his arms around her and Iverson for a minute.

“Okay, time for school,” he says for the first time in too long, feeling out of place.

“Okayyyyyy,” both kids grumble. Sophie bounces off the bed, knocking the nightstand and making the vase of roses wobble. The kids head out of the room and back down the long marble hallway to get ready.

Rava closes the door and dreads turning around. She can feel his eyes on her. She tries to look at him.

“You said that to her, Rava?“ his voice is dark and sad and she wants to rewind by 5 minutes. She’d almost made herself forget what happens when he thinks she’s against him. She squeezes her eyes shut.

“It was the day I got back…”

She glances up at him. He has that terrible mixture of hurt and anger all over his face. She takes a deep breath.

“I dropped you off, and when I got home, she asked me when you were coming back.” She hates every word that’s escaping her mouth. “She wanted to know when we would be together again and I had to figure out how to explain that we… I didn’t want to give her… false… hope.“ She’s staring down at the floor. This is the opposite of what she wants to do. She’s so tired of ugly truths.

He wishes he were anyone else. The guilt and shame are twisting him into knots of tension. She wants to smack herself. They can’t get stuck here.

“I’m really sorry, Ken. I didn’t think she’d remember.”

“Well, she does, though.” Everybody does. He scoffs. “Is that what you think about this, really? You and me. It’s not even possible? What is this, another fucking… one-night flirtation, and it’s just nothing?” He’s searching her face. She winces, shaking her head vehemently and trying to find words. “I mean, I mean what else did you say to her? I thought we agreed that they weren’t supposed to know about all our shit. There are supposed to be- like, two people who don’t fucking think-“

He shakes his head. Her stomach is grabbing itself. She didn’t miss this part.

She hesitantly walks over to the bed and puts her hand on his shoulder. He leans away and she can tell he’s sinking.

Everything is breaking in his head. He’s the reason Sophie doesn’t get to be a kid. They probably know about all the worst things he’s ever done, just like everyone else. Rava gave up on him. Love doesn’t come back. She’d wanted to separate. She still looks at him and only sees white lines. It’s all spiraling down the drain. His dad is dying in the hospital and he doesn’t trust him to follow in his footsteps. He’ll never be CEO, his siblings will never respect him. They think he’s a joke, the shareholders are running to sell with him in charge. Everyone looks at him and sees one-time potential that came to ruins, reduced to nothing but dust.Powder. The weight of it is crushing him.

“I really should’ve known better.” He stands up and looks around for his things. He thought he was finally getting there with her.

Her heart is pounding like it used to toward the end when she got scared she was losing everything every time they fought. It’s only been a few hours. This can’t happen.

“Don’t say that,” she pleads, catching up to him and taking his hand. He stops walking and extricates it from hers. He hates that he’s ruining this but he can’t make it stop.

“You can’t do this now,” she starts panicking. “We just told them-“

“Yeah, we just told them we’re back together and I found out my nine-year-old daughter thinks that’s impossible because that’s what you fucking told her.”

“Ken, you don’t get to criticize everything I’ve done, I didn’t mean it when I said that and you’ve barely even been here since then!”

He’s silent.

She regrets it immediately. Dredging up the past is not the way to the future. It’s old news now. She has to stop saying things she doesn’t mean to say. She drops her head back and closes her eyes for a second.

“I didn’t-“ she sighs. She wants to tell him that the anger was only covering the sadness. “It felt like a miracle when I could get out of bed back then,” she says, quietly this time. He knows the feeling.

“That’s not what I think now. I meant what I said last night,” she says, holding up her hand to show him the ring. Things were so good 10 minutes ago, 6 hours ago, 14 years ago.

“Right. Sure.” Of course she’ll never stop seeing him at rock bottom, it’s where everyone sees him. His dad, the shareholders, the only one who used to believe in him… He wishes he could have another chance at all of it, but suddenly it feels too far gone. “I’m sorry for… everything. I should go, you know… Dad… and I have to figure out this buyout, so…” he trails off, stepping over to where last night’s pants are lying on the floor. Probably should’ve picked those up before the kids came in- one more mistake.

“No.” She’s borrowing his mask of strength, blocking his way. She has to save this. He’s overreacting, he’s so worried about how he’s seen. It’s so far in the past now. That terrible phase is over now, it can be good again now. It can’t fall apart, it can’t all disappear again. She can’t go through that again, she can’t explain it to them, she wouldn’t make it this time. She can’t smell the roses on this side of the room.

She tries again. “You know, the kids don’t know about- the other stuff. Their rooms are still full of legos and Barbies. They’re still kids. It’s not too late.” She really looks at him. “It’s not too late.”

He wants to believe her more than anything. He misses when she was just in love. She has to see he can be better this time. It’s only been a few hours, how could she already be thinking about the worst day they ever had? She probably sits with the kids and talks about it all the time. He’s focused on not letting her see the tears forming. He’s gotten good at that, he thinks.

She sees his eyes instantly. It looks like he’s drowning in there. She wants to dive in and save him. She remembers this part.

“It’s been really, really hard without you here,” she says sincerely, hoping for any clue that she’s getting through to him. “I know how much you’re going through. I’m sorry. I really don’t even think about it anymore.”

“Well,” he gets out as he turns toward the door. “It was my fault, so…”

“Ken,” her voice breaks at the thought of causing him more pain when he’s already dealing with so much right now. She wants to be his safe person, the one he can trust and the one who never hurts him. There’s a lot to muddle through, but it’s worth it to get to him. “Hey, things are different now. How hard has it been for you to stay sober all this time? You’ve done it. That’s different, and it’s great. I see that! It’s not like it was.”

“Yeah. It’s… been really fucking hard.” More than she knows. He’s still trying to hold back tears. At least she gets that he’s been trying. He looks down but he stops making movements to leave. He doesn’t know which way to go.

She’s still worried, looking around for any possible way to go back in time by a few minutes, by years and years.

Something shiny on the floor catches her eye. Next to his pants is his wedding ring, flung out of the pocket in a moment of wild passion the night before. Just a few hours ago.

“You had your ring last night?” She asks cautiously. He still can’t look at her. He doesn’t really want to answer, but she might as well know the truth.

“I, uh… I always have it.” He tries to play it off, but he can tell that she’s struck.

“For three years?” She says, barely above a whisper.

He turns to look at her for a split second and shrugs before looking back down at the floor. She sees it now.

She pictures him putting the ring in his pocket every single morning. Keeping it with him when he’s in meetings at work, when he’s sitting in that flashy apartment meant to fill the void, when he’s riding in the car alone at night. She doesn’t even know he feels for it through the fabric every time Logan storms into his office to thunder about what stupid thing he’s done now.

She misses him even though he’s right in front of her.

She doesn’t care if they’re fighting. She needs the distance between them to go away, right now. She knows he’ll stay if he can feel how much she needs him, how close she wants him. She takes his hand and guides him back toward her, tugging a little when he doesn’t respond right away.

“Come here,” she practically begs him.

He feels like maybe he shouldn’t let her do this, but he can’t bring himself to move away. He takes a step toward her and she presses herself into him. His need for love is overpowering and she’s exuding it, sending it right into him, right through the wall he just put up. She wraps her arms around him and he closes his eyes and rests his head on her shoulder. She breathes a sigh of relief.

There’s too much being sloshed on him at once and he doesn’t know if he can handle it. He wonders if she’ll ever be able to go a day without remembering his most shameful moments, wonders if anyone will. He wishes he could undo all of it, wishes he could make his dad wake up. He wonders if the family breakfast he’d imagined 6 hours ago is still even possible. He wants his kids to have what he didn’t. She can feel him trying as hard as he can to stay afloat.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. He doesn’t have to hide his feelings from her. She holds him close and he tightens his arms around her. She wants to do anything to console him. He’s carrying more than the average person could even dream of and she can tell when he feels it all crashing down on him, when he can’t find the surface. But she can help him now. One step at a time. She thinks about last night.

She keeps one hand on his arm while she reaches for the ring on the floor and stands back up, slipping her arm back around him and looking into his eyes carefully. Her touch is making some of it drain away and he finally looks back and takes a breath. They were right last night. Maybe with more time she’ll see him like she did before.

“I love you,” she whispers. “Then and now.”

She slips the ring onto his finger, like he did with her last night.

“I love you, too,” he says quietly. He’s looking down at his left hand. It looks familiar. Safe. Another breath. The smell of waffles wafts through the air. It mixes with the flowers and smells sweeter. He wonders if the roses are a coincidence.

She gives him a reassuring kiss and starts gently playing with the ring on his finger.

“So I guess you were pining for me, too.” She sees the beginnings of a smile returning to his face. “Don’t worry,” she says softly. She can’t fix it all for him, but she can tell him a good truth. “The kids will see for themselves that love comes back.”

Chapter 3 💗

A/N: Thank you @tvgremlin for encouraging this obsession 😘

#🌹#btw respect to everyone who does this and is also in school or working #like the amount I ignored my jobs for this is honestly hilarious #who even am I #kendall roy #rava roy #kenrava #kendall x rava #kendall roy fic #succession fix it fics

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alindakb · 2 years

Text

Soundless Love - Chapter 8.2

The library is off-limits. It’s where Draco studies and Harry won’t chase him away from his favourite spot. And even when Draco isn’t there, Harry still hates being in that place. Everywhere he looks he sees Draco. He’s tried it once when Draco was hanging out with Greengrass in the Great Hall. Hermione took Harry to the library in the hope Harry would do some of his homework. But the only thing Harry did was stare at the table he and Draco used to sit at, wondering if he would ever get it back.

So now, Hermione, Ron, Neville and Harry have placed their books on a table in the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione works on her study schedule for the coming exams. They all still don’t get how she gets to all her lessons and how she hasn’t collapsed under her workload yet. Ron is busy with his Charms essay and Neville reads something to do with Herbology. And Harry stares at his books and has no idea where to start. He hasn’t done a thing for school besides showing up to his lessons since they’ve been back from Easter break.

“Harry, do you know what will happen if you lift your wand too high when casting the Freezing Charm Glacius?” Ron asks.

“No clue, ask Hermione,” Harry answers. He knows what Ron is doing. It’s one of the tricks Hermione learned them all to get others to focus on their homework. Only Harry doesn’t care anymore. He got a Dreadful on his last essay for Potions. Snape was all gleeful about it. He even took points from Gryffindor for Harry’s sloppy work. And for the first time, Harry didn’t say anything about it. That took all the fun out of it for Snape. And that made it kind of nice, this not caring anymore.

“Harry, have you even started on the Charms essay?” Hermione asks.

“No,” he says deadpan.

“It’s due tomorrow,” Hermione says. “You can’t hand in nothing.”

Harry lets out a sigh. “Why not?” he asks. “It’s not as if they are going to kick me out of school for missing one essay.”

Hermione narrows her eyes at Harry. “But it’s not just one essay, isn’t it?” she asks. “You hardly do any of the work. If you keep this up, you’re going to fail your exams.”

Harry lifts his shoulders and stares out of the window. It’s a beautiful afternoon. It’s a shame that there is no Quidditch practice today. It would have been nice to go out and fly a bit. But the Hufflepuff team is on the pitch right now. They have a match in two weeks. It’s going to be the decider of the year. Hufflepuff has won their match against Slytherin. If they win against Gryffindor, they will be the champions this year. And Diggory is putting in all the effort to try to make that happen. Oliver is worried. He’s taken Harry aside on multiple occasions to instruct him that he needs to find the Snitch as soon as possible during the game, so as not to give the Hufflepuff team time to get into the lead.

“Harry, you do understand that you will have to repeat this year if you fail your final exams,” Hermione says. Harry has the feeling she’s been rattling on and on about the importance of school and study schedules.

“I won’t fail them,” Harry says. But he does pull his Charms book out of the pile and looks up the Glacius Charm. He might just try to get something on paper. His hand feels heavy when he picks up his quill. Harry stares at his parchment. Why is it so hard to focus and just do it? Harry used to do this all the time. It was no issue when Draco was by his side. Draco, whose grey eyes would glitter when Harry would finally get something after Draco explained it to him. Draco, who studied so hard to learn BSL so he could keep up with the conversation around him. And he did it all next to all the extra work he did for school. Harry is sure that if Draco hadn’t been deaf, he would have been the smartest person in their year, giving Hermione a run for the top of class each year.

“I can’t do this,” Harry says. He puts his quill down and stares out the window again.

“You haven’t even started,” Hermione says.

“Leave him,” Neville tells her.

Harry pushes his hand through his hair and turns around. “I don’t need you to defend me,” he spits out as he stands up. “And Hermione, we are not all nerds like you. I don’t need top grades. I just need to get Acceptable to pass, and I will.”

“Fine,” Hermione snaps. “Have it your way. Just don’t come running when you need my help getting ready for your exams.”

“Fine,” Harry snaps back. He pushes his books into his bag. “I’m going for a walk,” he says and walks away.

Neville rushes to get his books in his bag. “I’ll come with you. I need a break too,” he says.

Harry stops and wants to snap at Neville to leave him alone. Only Neville’s face is red and he clumsily pushes his ink bottle into his bag. They will have a fight here in the middle of the common room if Harry refuses him. And Harry doesn’t feel like it. It’s none of anyone's business that Harry is feeling like shit.

Together they leave the common room and walk down the stairs. They go outside and walk towards the lake without exchanging a word.

“I know you’re upset still about Draco,” Neville says when they walk beside the water. “And that it’s hard for you to study without him, but Hermione’s right.”

Harry looks over the lake and shrugs. “I can’t help it, Neville,” he says. “He’d made studying fun, somehow. And now it’s just painful.”

“You need to forget about him,” Neville says. “You’re too young to drop out of school and start a professional Quidditch career.”

Harry lets out a heavy sigh. “I could be the youngest professional Quidditch player of the century,” he says without meaning it. They both know that won’t happen if he drops out of school now. He’s too young to be on the radar of any of the scouts. They won’t start paying attention to him before he takes his OWLs.

“And leave me alone with Hermione and Ron?” Neville asks. “Think about your brother, please. Don’t make me suffer at school alone.” He stops and pulls on Harry’s arm to get him to look at him.

“I won’t,” Harry says. He shuffles his foot over the dirt path. “I’ll manage. Exams are still a couple of weeks away.” He has no idea how he will manage it. He can’t open a book without missing Draco. But he also knows his friends are right. If he doesn’t get his act together, he might need to repeat third year. And it will also mean he will have to stop Quidditch. Students with failing grades are not allowed on the team. And that will put a big dumper in his plan to become a professional Quidditch player after he’s done with school.

“I just thought that I was the one helping him,” Harry says. “But the truth is, that I need him more than he ever needed me.”

Neville offers Harry a small smile. “You can study without him. You’ve done it before,” he says.

Harry lifts his shoulders. “That was different,” he says. “I struggled back then. Before Draco. With his help it was easy. And now it’s just, I don’t know. It’s as if I can only succeed with him. I know it’s stupid, but it’s how it feels.”

“You need a proper distraction,” Neville says. “We need to get more serious about Pettigrew. That will keep your mind off Draco. And when you’ve forgotten about him, you’ll have no problem cramming for the exams.”

“Don’t think it goes that quickly, Neville,” Harry says. “Have you already forgotten about Ginny?”

Neville rocks on his feet and shakes his head. “No, but I don’t need to,” he says. “It’s just a rumour that she kissed Luna. All bets are still off, she could still fall in love with me.”

Harry scratches at the back of his neck. “Why are you always so positive?” he asks.

“Don’t know. I just like her,” Neville says. “And as long as she doesn’t reject me as plain as Draco did you, I won’t give up on her.”

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to give up on Draco just yet,” Harry says.

“Then don’t,” Neville says. “Maybe it will all turn out for the better. But for now, you need to keep your mind busy with something else. So go figure out how we can find Pettigrew, and then we can get rid of the rat once and for all.”

Harry nods and they continue to walk in silence. When they get back to the common room, they sit down by Ron and Hermione as if nothing happened. Harry takes out a piece of parchment and a quill and starts to think. What would be a good place for a rat to hide, and how will they be able to get him out of his little hole?

MASTERLIST

#drarry #soundless love #harry/draco big bang #harry potter #neville longbottom #hermione granger #ron weasley #study group #concentration issues #deaf draco #heartbroken harry

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unfoundhoney · 3 years

Text

mother, father, and everything else ↠

↠ platonic!c!tommyinnit x older sister!reader ; fluff , angst

↠ masterlist

↠ a companion piece to a sister’s sacrifice inspired by this tiktok

“Tommy, come on,” you call.

You pull your youngest brother’s attention away from the strings of the apron he got distracted by. He toddles over to you as quickly as he can, reaching up and asking to be picked up silently. He started walking early and go the hang of it quite quickly. However, in talking he’s a bit of a late bloomer, nearing fifteen months but yet to say his first words.

You lift Tommy up into your arms, carrying him out the back door and into the backyard. You set him down to play in the grass where you can keep an eye on him then walk over to the array of clotheslines strung up across the yard, beginning to hang up laundry.

Wilbur is off playing with Niki as usual. He’ll likely return covered in dirt and grass stains, maybe with a captured insect or stories of a new, made up kingdom he’d been ruler of that day. Phil is still out with Techno; they’ve been gone for a while now, but that’s nothing new.

You’ve hung up a pair of Wilbur’s pants and two of Tommy’s shirts when you notice Tommy crouched beside the basket full of wet clothes. He reaches inside and pulls out a sock, squeezing it curiously.

“Do you want to help, Tommy?”

Tommy looks up at you, blue eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He nods his head once.

You giggle and ruffle his hair, “Alright, c’mere.”

You lift Tommy up again, resting him on your hip as you grab a clothespin with your free hand. You slip it over the clothesline.

“Put the top of the sock in the pin,” you tell him.

He struggles a bit, little hands still uncoordinated at his young age. He does eventually position the sock where you can close the pin on it and leave it to hang.

“Wow, good job, buddy!” you say.

You wrap him in a hug and spin around, shrieking laughter falling from his mouth at both your actions and your praise. You set him down and kneel down to be at eye level with him.

“You’re my official laundry assistant,” you say seriously. “Can you hand me clothes to hang up?”

Tommy nods eagerly and toddles over to the basket of wet clothes, grabbing a shirt from the top of the pile. He holds it above his head as he runs back over to you, holding it out.

“Good job, Tommy! We’re quite the team, you and I.”

Together, you and Tommy slowly hang the rest of the clothes up. Tommy eventually gets bored and goes off to pick dandelions and pull off their petals, leaving you to finish the chore, not that you mind. When you’re finished, you call Tommy over to get in the basket, carrying him and the leftover clothespin back inside.

“Y/N!”

The call of your name pulls you to a stop, turning to see who yelled for you. Tommy grabs onto your pant leg for balance, stopping as well. You find Puffy waving at you, hurrying over to you with her little boy Dream at her side.

“Hi, Puffy,” you say. “Hi, Dream.”

“Hi,” Dream says in a small voice.

“Tommy, can you say hi?” you ask the young boy clinging to your hand.

He’s chewing on his thumbnail, looking up at Puffy warily before hiding his face in your leg.

“Guess not,” you laugh.

“How are you, Y/N? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Puffy says.

“I’m good,” you answer. “Just getting some dinner for tonight.”

“Still the household cook, I see.”

“And just about everything else.”

You laugh and Puffy joins you, but you can tell that wasn’t a joke that went over her head. It’s no joke that you are mother and father to your younger siblings, as well as everything else. Your dad is gone too often; Wilbur doesn’t even call your father “dad,” he calls him Phil.

“Where’s your dad?” Puffy asks.

You shrug, “Around.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

You hesitate for too long, distracted as you attempt to remember the last time Phil came home.

“That hardly matters,” you brush off, “He’s busy doing important stuff and I can look after Wilbur and Tommy myself anyway.”

The look of concern on Puffy’s face is not missed by you. You do, however, elect to ignore it.

Dream tugs on Puffy’s sleeve, “Mom.”

“Yeah, buddy?” Puffy asks, leaning down.

Dream points into the market, where you see Sapnap with his father and his friend George.

“Go say hi, but don’t wander too far,” Puffy tells Dream.

When she turns back to you, keeping one eye on her son, you say, “I’ve gotta head home. Need to make dinner and all that.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puffy says. “I’m here if you ever need help. Or someone to talk to. Or... anything really.”

“Thanks, Puffy.”

You don’t notice at your side, Tommy trying to form the word that Dream used that so quickly got his mother’s attention.

“Look after yourself, Y/N.”

“I am.” You always have.

With a wave, you turn and head back home, Tommy walking slowly beside you. The walk from the market to your house takes about fifteen minutes and you end up carrying Tommy for most of it to speed things up.

When you arrive home, you find Wilbur and Niki sat in the front yard playing a hand clapping game. They stop when they spot you, jumping up and running to come meet you as you walk up the front path.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Wilbur shouts your names repeatedly.

“Will! Will! Will!” you mimic.

“Can I spend the night at Niki’s?” Wilbur asks.

You like Niki. She’s sweet and a good influence for Wilbur.

“Uhm, as long as her parents are alright with it,” you say, doing your best to sound like a grown up despite only being sixteen.

“We’ve already talked to them,” Niki tells you.

“Alright, then,” you concede. “Behave while you’re there.”

“I will, Y/N!” Wilbur says, running off with Niki.

You watch them go for a few moments until you’re reminded of the toddler sitting on your hip. Tommy squirms around, wanting down. You set him on the ground and walk with him inside.

You set him up with some paper and crayons at the kitchen table. You sit across from him, watching as he carefully looks over his color options before choosing the red crayon.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, bud,” you muse.

You pet Tommy’s hair before you stand, moving to start on dinner. You season meat and chop potatoes, humming to yourself and keeping an eye on Tommy. Thankfully, your youngest brother isn’t a picky eater, which makes meals a lot easier than they could be, especially since he’s been in the solid foods stage for a while now.

The rest of the night is fairly quiet. You and Tommy eat dinner then you do the dishes while he waddles around the living room and plays with some of his toys. You can hear him experimenting with running, his footfalls surprisingly loud for such a small human. You hear him fall, as well, but without any crying then the return of his heavy footsteps, you don’t go to check on him.

You start composing your next shopping list and check the calendar for any upcoming events. There’s a festival next week that you’re meant to chaperone Wilbur and his friends at. Maybe you can team up with Puffy so Tommy can play with Tubbo, and Dream can join Wilbur. You’ll ask her tomorrow.

You hear Tommy enter the kitchen. He waddles over to where you sit at the table and crawls into your lap. He grabs your free hand and starts playing with your fingers as you continue writing down what you’ll need for your bigger grocery run in a few days.

“Mom.”

You freeze.

What?

“Mom.”

You look down at Tommy.

He looks up at you, “Mom.”

“N-No...,” you say weakly.

“Mom.”

“No, I’m not your mom.”

“Mom.”

“No...”

“Mom!” Tommy says happily. “Mom mom mom!”

“Okay, okay,” you say shakily, putting a hand gently over your little brother’s mouth to get him to stop. “Okay, good job.”

Your vision’s blurry. You want to cry. Your chest hurts. But right now, Tommy’s said his first word.

“Good job,” you repeat.

You pull Tommy into a hug and wipe at your eyes behind his back.

Tommy rests his little cheek on your shoulder, already tired but quickly drifting off to sleep in your warm embrace, “Mom...”

“Shhh,” you say, voice weak.

Tommy goes limp, asleep in your arms. As your tears begin to fall, you make sure not to let your sobs move you. How has this happened? Mom. No. You’re not a mother. Except you are. In every way that matters, you are Tommy’s mother. You’ve raised him ever since Phil brought him home that day.

You wish your family was normal. As normal as a family of four adopted children, a single father, and a non-biological uncle could be. You wish your dad was home more. You wish you didn’t have to be the only parental figure Tommy has ever known. It’s to the point he calls you mom. How could Phil let it get to this? How could he care so little?

You just want to have a normal family with parents who are adults and kids who are allowed to be children. You did not get to be a child, but Wilbur and Tommy will. You will always be there for them. You promise. You will give them what you had taken from you. Hatred for your father burns in your chest but it’s quickly snuffed out, doused by nostalgia that longs for a childhood you never had.

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devildom-drabbles · 2 years

Text

Short Story - Exchange

Characters/Ship: Satan x MC Word Count: 690 Warnings: None, just a fluffy short story =)

A knock sounded on the door, pulling MC out of their mindless scrolling on their phone and up from their cozy position in bed to see which one of the demon brothers was seeking them out this late at night. Considering this individual didn’t just barge in and even waited for them after knocking, they were able to narrow down who it could’ve been, so it didn’t shock them too much to find Satan at the other side of the door. What did surprise them, however, was the trace of nervousness in his features when he greeted them.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Satan inquired, readjusting his hold on the book in his hand.

“No, I haven’t gone to sleep yet,” MC assured him. “I’ve just been on my phone. What’s up?”

“Well, to put it simply, I don’t have a room to sleep in tonight. Would it be all right if I stay here with you?”

“Sure, I don’t mind, but... Did something happen to your room?”

The question prompted Satan to direct his gaze to the side as a hint of red dusted his cheeks, avoiding MC’s puzzled stare. “...It happened.”

Before MC could ask what he was referring to, a lightbulb went off in their head. They had to bite back a teasing grin at the realization and from how increasingly embarrassed Satan was becoming during this pause in their conversation. “Your huge ‘Leaning Tower of Books’ finally came crashing down, huh?”

“You could put it that way, yes,” he admitted. “It’s such a mess in there now, and I don’t have the time or patience to clean it up, especially with how many cursed books are within the pile. But listen, don’t you dare tell Lucifer--or any of my brothers--about this. The last thing I need is to hear their smug ‘I told you so’s’ if they found out. I’m going to reorganize everything tomorrow, so none of them will even know it happened.”

MC couldn’t help but chuckle at Satan’s reaction to his predicament. “Okay, your secret is safe with me.” They noticed him relax upon hearing their answer, and they stepped aside to allow him entry into their bedroom before shutting the door. “So, what do I get in exchange for helping you out?”

Satan flashed a confident grin as the two of them walked further inside the room. “I thought you might ask that, so I’ve already prepared my end of the bargain.” He waved the book he had been holding since he first arrived between both of their faces. “Do you know what this is?”

“One of the books that toppled on you?” they replied with a smirk.

“Ha ha. Very funny. Look closer.”

Satan offered the book for MC to take. The human’s eyes widened while a short gasp escaped their lips once they read the title, bringing great satisfaction to the demon. “No...! Is this really...?!”

“That’s right,” he said with a nod.

“How’d you get this? No, when did you get this?”

“Just this afternoon. I was able to find a copy at a second-hand bookstore outside of town with the help of my network of acquaintances. I was going to surprise you with it when we meet up in the library tomorrow, but with my current situation, I figured now would be a better time. Will this make us even?”

“Absolutely! Ooh, can we read some of it before we go to sleep?”

Witnessing MC’s excitement from this gift caused a pleasant warmth to surge through Satan’s body, overpowering the wrath that constantly lurked within him and making his stomach bubble with amusement until he was gently laughing out loud. Very few things could affect him in such a positive way, but MC always managed to do it with ease, without trying or even knowing. Perhaps that was why he was so willing to do anything--like acquiring the book that they’ve been searching for nearly a week to find--that would hopefully bring them this same wonderful feeling that they naturally gave to him.

“Of course,” he agreed to MC’s request, basking in their joy. “I’d love to.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me satan #obey me mc #obey me satan x mc #short story #drabble

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lem0nshark-writes · 3 years

Text

‘’Warm Nights’’

Fili & Kili x Male (hobbit) Reader

Word count: 2148

Warnings: polyamorous, no incest - issa fili x reader x kili, fluffff, cute stuff okay

It has been a few moons since the dwarves took their kingdom back and the rightful king under the mountain was crowned. You and your best friend Bilbo returned back to the Shire and resumed with patching up the house back after your neighbouring hobbits split all of your belongings between themselves thinking you two had died.

The thoughts of you two's adventures with the company occupied both Bilbo's and yours minds and the two of you often spent time talking about them.

To be quite honest you missed the company a lot, especially the two dorky princes. The three of you managed to bond quite strongly during your journey to Erebor. But you missed everyone else too. Though Bilbo gave you a lot of comfort and his company was very dear to you.

One night as you two were preparing the dinner you noticed Bilbo has made a lot more food than usual, almost too much. But you paid it no mind thinking the hobbit was feeling extra hungry that evening. After you finished up the many foods you helped set up the table.

Remembering you forgot to turn the light off in your bedroom you made you way towards it, and just as you passed by the entrance door to the house you heard a knock.

You looked over at the door in surprise, questioning, not expecting anyone that late. You turned towards the direction of the kitchen and called out for Bilbo, "Hey Bilbo, are you expecting anyone?" you waited for him to answer but he didn't make a sound, you figured he was busy finishing up one of the last few dishes he was working on and shrugged it off, walking over to the door and opening it.

"Who is it-," you didn't even manage to finish up your sentence before a swarm of dwarves fell right on top of you, making you fall backwards on your butt with all the dwarves landing on you.

"Y/nnnnn!~~" all the dwarves cheered your name when they saw you, hugging you tightly not bothering to get off you and almost squishing you to death. Bilbo watched the scene from the door frame with a warm smile plastered on his face. He knew they were coming but wouldn't tell you, wanting it to be a surprise, and oh what a surprise it was.

"G-Guys what are you doing here??-" you smiled in surprise at your friends, trying to hug all of them back when you realized who it is that attacked your small body by piling on top of you.

"We had to visit our favourite hobbits!~" Bofur cheered. "Bilbo didn't tell you?" Thorin added.

"N-No-," you looked over at Bilbo with squinty eyes and he rose his hands up in a defensive way, "I wanted it to be a surprise," he smiled, not regretting his decision one bit.

You wanted to be upset but for the love of it you couldn't, the fact that the company was back together once again was overjoying and you couldn't get the smile off your face.

You and Bilbo took your time to greet each dwarf separately, many tight hugs being exchanged and even some cheek smooches too. And after you all finally done your greetings you and Bilbo lead them all into the dining room which was swarmed with foods and drinks. Many dishes, pastries, all sorts of drinks and desserts graced the table in plenty and you all sat down at the table. The dwarves wasted no time digging right in and soon enough cheerful singing filled the air, all of you joining in, and celebration took over the whole room.

After the lengthy dinner and many songs sung you all took it onto yourselves to clean up and then moved to the living room to share tales of the time you all spent away from each other. Stories of your adventures on your journey to the mountain finding themselves there as well as you all reminisced over the moments shared together.

You spent the rest of the night like that, just hanging out and chatting and when the time came to go to bed Bilbo helped settle everyone into their respective rooms for the night. You so happening to end up, due to the lack of rooms with a one-person bed, sharing a big one with the two princes and him totally accidentally ending up in a big one with Thorin.

The three of you slowly made it to your assigned room, chatting along happily as you walked.

As you got in, the princes started to take off some of their, now unnecessary, layers of clothing to get comfy for the bed and you took that opportunity to claim your spot on the bed.

"I call dibs on the middle!" you chirped cheerfully and catapulted yourself onto the bed, claiming your spot in the middle of the big bed, hugging the extra pillow you brought along.

The two chuckled at you as they put their clothes on the chair next to the wall of the room.

"Works for me," Fili grinned as he took off his boots.

"Me too," Kili smirked as he jumped on the bed as well, landing half-way on top of you, almost knocking all the air out of your lungs, and hugging you tightly.

You chuckled through your coughs and hugged him back, "Dear Lord, Kili-"

He just grinned cutely and so you couldn't even scold him, and just as you recovered from Kili's landing on you you got struck by another one, Fili hugged you just as tightly, snuggling into your body after the jump.

You smirked happily and pulled them both into a tight hug, getting back at them for the jumps.

They both let out gasps from being squeezed but you were gentle on them soon enough.

Brothers chuckled and you did as well and you all fled under the covers, the two of them sandwiching you into big warm hugs, which you very gladly returned.

The three of you shared the comfort of the quiet moment just hugging and being happy to have each other around once again, your heart feeling like it will burst out of your chest. To be quite honest you shared more than just very strong feelings of friendship towards the two, but you never acted on it, both because you didn't want to ruin the friendship but also because you loved both of them equally and you just couldn't pick, you didn't want to anyways.

"I missed you guys so much," you snuggled into them, making sure to grasp them both in your embrace.

"We missed you too," they smiled, each planting a kiss on your cheek, Fili on your right and Kili on your left.

You blushed through a smile and smooched the tips of their noses softly, returning the kisses.

They grinned and rested their heads on your shoulders, their faces almost completely in your neck, so close you could feel their warm breaths against your skin. It made you blush lightly.

"How long will you be staying? I hope you are not leaving tomorrow already .. are you?"

"No, we're not. We'll be staying for a couple of days," Fili smiled at the worry of departure in your voice.

"You're not getting rid of us that easy," Kili added with a grin and moved himself more up and closer to you, his face now halfly touching yours, hugging you tighter.

You chuckled at his words, "I better not," you added with a grin on your face, though blush spread across your cheeks once again because of how close Kili's face was to yours.

Fili stayed on his spot, his head resting on the spot on your chest next to your shoulder, listening to your heartbeats.

He could hear them speed up every time one of them would move closer or even speak. He found it curious, he didn't understand why it would do that, after all there's no way you'd feel the same as him, same as them.

See, the brothers talked after they took their kingdom back over and after things settled down. They've noticed each other's longing gazes whenever the situation would calm down or the conversation died out. They've noticed both of them were missing something, or rather someone. But, seeing they've both been in love with you they decided they would, with your blessing of course, either share or have neither of them be with you. Though the subject came hard to open and discuss once the three of you finally met again.

Fili quietly took your hand in his and held it gently, playing with with your fingers.

Your heart immediately picked up as your eyes shot a gaze towards the blonde dwarf, you gave him a warm smile, hiding the blush that was slowly spreading across your cheeks though the darkness of the room hid it well enough already.

Kili looked up between the two of you, and took your other hand in his, holding it to his chest and kissing the back of it sweetly.

Your gaze now fell at the brunette who was smiling at you already and your blush darkened and you smiled even brighter, snuggling into the two of them.

"Hey, y/n.." after a few moments of silence Kili suddenly spoke.

"Hmm?" you smiled at him, turning your attention to him.

"There's something we'd like to tell you.." Kili continued and Fili's eyes shot at him quickly, not expecting him to open the topic on the first day but also understanding that he can't not be with you for another minute because he feels the same.

"What is it?" you asked with a smile, hoping it's nothing bad.

"So uhmm… I-I don't know how to start but uhmm…" Kili started, now not being sure how to spill their hearts to you.

"When we took back Erebor w-we realized something uhmm-" Fili tried to help, "We don't know how you would feel about it but we have to ask-." You looked between them as they spoke, waiting patiently for the princes to gather up their courage and get to the point.

"Would it be alright if we courted you?" Kili finally blurted out, all three of you now sitting up half-way.

"Both of us, together-" he added with a hopeful smile spread on his handsome face.

You looked at the two in shock, eyes wide and words not leaving your throat. You couldn't believe this was happening.

"W-We know it's weird but.. but we both like you-" Fili started.

"Very much," Kili added.

"And we couldn't come to a decision so, if it would be alright with you-" Fili looked up at you, hopeful smile resting on his lips as well as the question hanged in the air.

It took you a while to break out of your shock, eyes darting from one prince to the other. But after a few long and torturous moments your brain finally started working again and a quiet "Y-Yes-" left your lips through a breath.

"D-Did you say 'yes'?" Kili couldn't believe his ears.

"Y-You accept our courtship?" Fili questioned, disbelief residing within him as well.

Big smile made it's way on your lips and you nodded your head vigorously before throwing yourself onto the brothers squeezing them into a big and tight hug.

They cheered happily and quickly returned, stuffing their faces into your neck and chest, hugging just as tightly.

After very extensive hugging session the three of you laid back down, now snuggling even closer to each other, the two of them each holding one of your hands in theirs.

"I love you guys," you exhaled happily, snuggling further into the two princes, "I have been in love with you two since the journey as well."

That made their hearts melt a little knowing you felt the same as them, and what a relief it was too.

"We love you too," they replied in unison with warmth both in their voices and in the smiles spread across their lips, snuggling right back.

Your heart could explode from all the happiness it felt at that moment.

The happiness grew even stronger when Fili propped himself up on one of his elbows and leaned in placing a gentle but passionate kiss on your lips, followed by Kili who did the same with a big grin on his face. You gladly returned both, blushing like crazy. The two chuckled at your red cheeks and proceeded to kiss them, each the one on their side, before laying back down and throwing their arms around you.

The three of you laid there like that, snuggled against each other in the warmth of the bed and each other's embraces, all three of you slowly drifting off to sleep.

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frenchrebelfries · 3 years

Text

Always

All it takes is one glance

You and Natalia have been together for years even before you both have been forced to join the Red room, you both were childhood best friends and did everything to survive that hell hole that the both of you were thrown into.

“Will you stay by my side until I fall asleep Y/N?” a small voice if Natalia filled your ears, you just smiled at her

“Always Natalia”

You both grew up together learning to kill people breaking your body with training and shattering your innocent minds but you had each other.

She was your hope, your light in the dark so you had to be strong for her.

Natalia was crying in your arms after a test was conducted each and every one of you had to kill some targets with their family to test our emphathy, Natasha have a soft heart and being force to kill made her hate herself but you were there for here shielding her with thoughts that would break her.

“I killed them Y/N, their child was-… she was to young” she cried as you comforted her rubbing her back with your hands

“It’s not your fault Natalia, you had to do it” you reasoned her as she continued to cry

“will you stay with me even I became a monster Y/N?” she sniffled as her forest green piercing eyes connected to yours, you just smiled at her

“Always Iyubov’ always” you assured her wiping her tears and kissing her forehead.

You and Natalia or Natasha a name she wanted to be called now were together just before both of you graduated from the Red room and was one of the best assassins of the organization, they knew about you and Natasha’s relationship after you both graduated but never interfere as both of you did your jobs splendidly taking their attention away from your relationship not wanting one of you killed as it would take years before someone can be good as you both to be replaced, she had you when she was sent to her first mission until you adjusted in the circumstance you were in and accepted it as it give you both a bit of freedom to be together and sometimes do things you wanted as long as you do your missions right, but all of that change when Natasha got an offer to join SHEILD, Natasha being her she did not let it pass as she reached her hands to you inviting you to join her.

“Y/N we can change our lives there… we don’t have to kill people just because they want to, we can change the world there” you were a bit shocked to what had Natasha said to you as you had taking a liking on the life you were in.

“Will you stay with me even I betray my country?” she was nervous… you can hear it in her voice as you accepted her hand as you always do and kissing the back of it which made her smile widely.

“Always IIyubov” she squeaked and throw herself to you caging you in a tightly hug and kissing you endlessly

“ya Iyublyu vas Y/N”

“ya Iyublyu vas Tasha”.

The SHEILD was no different to the red room that you and Natasha left back in Russia except that SHEILD treated you more nicely and have less missions. Natasha hated killing back then so you talked to Fury to never give Natasha assassinations unless necessary in exchange you will take the missions and do the dirty work for him which he gladly agreed and was kept secret between you both.

“baby I want you to meet Barton, Barton this is my girlfriend Y/N” Natasha was beaming as she introduced you to her friend, an agent she had gotten close from missions that she was dying for you to meet.

He smiled a bit as he offers his hand to you which you gladly took and send him a warm smile thinking how lucky this Barton to be a friend of Natasha.

“it’s nice to finally but a picture to the woman Natasha has been telling me all the time” you smirked and catch a glance at the blushing red head as she elbowed Barton at his side earning us a groan from him

“well Tasha never really shut up about having a friend like you either” Natasha being her sent you a death glare as both you and Barton laugh at the antics of the green eyed ex-assassin.

And that started a beautiful friendship, You, Barton and Natasha were inseparable. Clint took you and Natasha back to his home where his family lived introducing you to his wife Laura and his kids.

Everything was perfect, Natasha and you having dates around New York, taking undercover missions as a couple, watching movies you missed during the training back in red room, constantly telling each other how much you love them and having to spend Christmas with Barton’s family.

Everything WAS perfect

That change because of that one mission…

The mission to retrieve Dr. Banner or the Hulk.

“You good Y/N?” you heard Clint asking you as you stop punching the sand bag

“Yeah… why?” taking a towel and wiping off the sweat on your face to look more presentable in front of your friend

“Why are you not part of the Avenger?” he bluntly questions you

You knew this is going to be a hard pill to swallow for Clint and Natasha of you not being part of the team, only you and Fury knows about the deal of you being the assassin of the SHIELD you did some missions with them but you were very discrete with your kills that Barton and Natasha didn’t even notice this so they thought you were doing similar mission like them.

You weren’t put on the Team because the team saves people from harm while you kill people so they won’t do harm. They were the symbol of peace while you lurk in the dark to aid the peace they wanted.

You just laugh at Clint patting his shoulder

“I’m leading a different team Barton, I may not be an Avenger but we only have one goal”

He was silent for a bit before speaking again

“Are you spending enough time with Natasha these days?” you knew where this is going as you shrugged

“we’ve both been busy, after what happened at New York our team’s missions have been piling up and so was yours” you answered

“Y/N it’s not that I want to mendle to you and Natasha’s relationship but… you really need to look after her and Banner… they’ve been far too cosy to each other” he told you as his voice was full of remorse

You knew about this, about her and Banner’s… closeness

You asked her about this the other time but she just brush it off saying that there just friends.

You didn’t want to point it out again because you trust her… but you just can’t get this feeling that there was more to their friendship, and you really can’t blame her that.

“I know” you whispered to him as silence filled the gym

You were given by Fury a week off from missions which you rejoiced, this was your time to be with Natasha and do something together.

You got off of the floor where the common room of her team is as you saw her by the chair chatting with Clint.

“hey Tasha, Barton” Natasha and Clint smiled at you as you gave Natasha a hug burring your head on her neck making her giggle as Barton rolled his eyes at you.

“Fancy seeing you here Y/N” Clint said faking a british accent as you punched his shoulder murmuring ‘shut up’. You turned to Natasha

“Wanna get dinner later? My treat” you smiled brightly at her remembering the restaurant Maria suggested to go.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I promised Bruce to have dinner with him, how about tomorrow? Sounds good?” you saw Clint raised his left eyebrow as you felt a small pinch at your heart as you only smiled at her not wanting to alarm her.

“Sure, I’ll pick up tomorrow at 6 then” she kissed you on your cheeks thanking you for understanding as she soon got a call from Bruce wanting some help in the lab bidding you and Clint a goodbye before leaving.

You just sighted, you were looking forward to this dinner grabbing a help from Tony to have reservation in that restaurant since it only cater powerful people and Tony was one of them, you look at Clint as he gave you the ‘I told you so’ look

“so… wanna grab dinner Barton?” he cheekly smiled

“I thought you’d never ask”

When you met him at the exit of the building he also invited Maria and Dr. Cho who is wearing formal dresses as you and Barton wore some suit which made feel a bit better, after dinner Maria and Clint dragged you and Dr. Cho from bar to bar enjoying the break you had as they filled your night with fun taking your thoughts off of Natasha.

You were invited by Tony to attend his party, you wanted to decline but Clint, Maria and Dr. Cho forced you to come telling to relax for a while and from the moment you stepped in Banner and Natasha have been lost on their own world together.

You watch as Clint, Tony, Rhodey, Banner and Steve trying to pull Thor’s hammer from the glass table as you sat silently beside Natasha who was in a very ‘interesting’ conversation with Banner as you kept drinking the bottle of beer that was filled with vodka chugging it down to your throat just wanting to disappear in this room.

You felt a hand on your shoulder as you turned around seeing it was Dr. Cho as she gently pulled you up from your seat to Maria and Clint’s side making you breathed a bit more comfortable as she sat next to you giving her a kind smile

“Thanks” you whispered

“your welcome” she replied and continued to watch Steve as he pulled the hammer earning a squeak but again didn’t budge.

You felt Maria leaned on your legs as she sat down taking the bottle of beer full of vodka on your hands as she smelt it and immediately gave you a side eye as you murmured a quick “Sorry”

The fun was stopped when a broken robot walked in limping and all you know was there are robots trying to kill all of you.

You jumping to action wanting to run to Natasha to protect her but you saw her running with Banner…

You were jealous of it but Dr. Cho being closer to you, you pulled her away from the chaos as a robot shot the both of you, you hid her behind a large post

“Stay here” you told her as you pulled a gun from your side and started shooting the robot as it falls to the ground and took it’s head off as Thor finished the last one.

Another problem arises for the Avengers as you barely saw Natasha for a few weeks as you put yourself up from mission to mission not wanting to think about her as all you saw was her and Banner’s face laughing.

“The wall will melt if you kept staring at it you know” you were cut off on your daze by Maria as she sat beside the bed that you are now laying on in the Medical bay, Natasha had been notified about this as you tried to stop them but she never came to look for you.

“How bad was it?” Maria asked seeing your torso wrapped with bandages

“enough to keep me away from missions for two weeks” you sigh not really liking the idea of being coped up in a place that kept reminding you about the circumstance that you were in

“I think I know what have been running through your mind lately… it’s about Bruce and agent Romanoff is it?” the silence of you was taken by Maria as an answer as she looked at you in pity.

And you broke as tears run past you face just staring at nothingness, crying was a foreign thing for you, you never cried when you almost died or taken by the Red room, you never cry when you had your first kill.

But right now… the tears keep streaming down your eyes was you tried your best to stop it, you felt Maria stood and wrap her arms around your shoulder pushing your head on her chest as your tears wouldn’t stop.

“I-I don’t know what to do Maria…” your broken voice hurts Maria in many different ways, out of all the people she met you were one of the most calm person she encountered, and most importantly you are her friend…

It hurts her seeing you cry, it’s her first time seeing you being vule like this.

“just let it all out Y/N”

And you did.

You stood there outside of room Natasha was in wanting to see her as their mission failed and now laying low at Barton’s house but you stood there frozen from the scene of her and Banner holding each other.

You rushed out of your mission when you heard about what happened to them as Clint told you that Natasha was injured and all shaken up with the enhance girl putting things in their mind, you dropped everything and just want to be with the red head but what greeted you is this.

You clench your hands so hard not wanting to break here when you felt someone hugged your leg

“Aunt Y/N” Lila said as you gave her a forced smile picking her up from the ground

“where’s your mom hmm?” you asked her sweetly as she points out to the kitchen as you tickled her sending her in full giggles walking to the kitchen and seeing a very pregnant Laura cooking

Putting Lila down and greeting Laura as she turned to you

“Y/N! oh god I missed you!” you chuckled as she gave you a hug which you return

“Missed you too Laura” you broke the hug

“so did you meet Nat?” you just shrug at her wanting to change the topic so you stared at her big belly

“you look big Lau” she smacked your arm as you both laugh

“I know Lila has been telling me that, why don’t you go sit I’ll make some food” you decline as you picked up some ingredient and started cutting it.

“Nah I’ll be helping you out, we don’t want you getting to worked up”

After you finished cooking you left some supplies for them and sneakily left the Barton’s house not wanting to alarm the team as you linger around the perimeter checking for some anomalies before completely leaving for another mission Fury assigned.

“p-please don’t kill me I’ll do anything!”

Your phone rang as you were in the middle of killing one of the many leader of Hydra as he sat on the ground begging for his life

You quickly answered it as Clint’s voice filled your ear

“Y/N, Nat has been taken” your face harden as anger builds inside you

“What?! “

“Ultron took her”

“I’m on my way”

You ended the call and shooting the man on his head 3 times before heading out

All you though that time was to find Natasha.

You just stood there behind Clint in silent not wanting to lash out in anger and worry about Natasha, there are two new people in the group Pietro and Wanda… you thought they were too young for this, barely even living normal live and was thrown in to this mess… you pitied them as you pitied yourself.

Vision gave Thor his hammer which surprised everyone. Thor took the hammer as Vision left everyone speechless.

“right… well done” Thor patted Tony’s shoulder before leaving

“three minutes, get what you need” Steve said as all of us left packing things they’ll be needing.

You took some guns, daggers and things you needed as you held the locket Natasha gave you after you both graduated from the Red room… it has the first picture of you both smiling as you held a bit more freedom back then.

All you every though is

Bring back Natasha, bring back your love.

You remembered what Natasha used to say to you ‘will you stay by my side?’

“Always” you voiced out kissing the locket placing it back on your neck near your heart.

You were tasked to save Natasha with Banner and evacuated her, you lurked behind Banner as you both navigated your way to Natasha’s cage, you stood at the dark as you pulled your dagger out of the robot beheading it just be sure, turning around seeing Bruce has set Natasha free and again lost between their world.

You want to shout at them wanting your presence to be known rage boiled up inside you and everything stopped when she kissed him… your heart ached, it’s like someone was crushing your heart as all you want is to scream.

You silently left not wanting to see more of them as the picture of them kissing filled your head.

As you got outside you saw robots coming everywhere, you held on your gun and dagger tighter as civilians passed you, you swiftly yanked a robot’s head that was sticking out on the ground and all you saw was red…

You kicked a head of a robot you just beheaded as tons of them was laying beneath your feet, you have gashes littering your body but you didn’t feel any tiredness or soreness only rage and betrayal.

“Y/N?” you froze when you heard the familiar voice of the woman you love, you didn’t want to turn around to see her face as it only reminds you that you were never hers anymore but you can never deny her.

You turn around facing her as your eyes held emptiness, she looked a bit worried as she took a step closer to you avoiding the metal bodies as you held your gun pointing at her and she stopped

“Y/N what are you doi-“ her words cut off when you fired the gun hitting the robot that was flying behind her.

You heard Tony saying stuff at your earpiece wanting all of you at the core as you saw Natasha’s hand holding it out on you

“stay with me?” your anger and rage melted at her words as it brought you back the memories of the past as you took her hand

“always”

“Together” Tony said as Natasha held your hands tighter as you squeeze it reassuring her

And that, all hell broke loose.

You kept killing robots after robots so was everyone keeping them away from the core, you saw a robot going to Natasha’s back, you pulled it’s head snapping its neck.

“I’ll protect it” Wanda said as you, Natasha and Clint rode a car towards where the evacuation is

“get your asses on the boat” Natasha said as all of you got out of the car

“where are you going?” you asked her

“I have to get the big guy” ah… Banner you saw her run to the side as you stood there as you felt Clint held your shoulder

“hey… lets go now” you just nodded following him

Bullets rained down as everyone took cover, Clint on the other hand pulled a child while you were beside him taking cover as you saw Pietro running to shield him…

You pushed your body forward as you reached Pietro’s left side but not enough to cover him from the other shots

You felt bullets broke out of your skin while you saw Pietro took 3, two on his arm and one on his right leg,

he’ll be alright with that…

you thought as your body weaken after taking one on your right shoulder on the right side of your stomach and on your arm.

You held your ground as you put pressure at the shot by your stomach as it bleeds out badly

“you good kid?” you ask Pietro as he nods limping

“Y/N!” you heard Clint shouted as Steve drag you and Pietro to the ship

Your ears were ringing badly as Clint tried to stop the bleeding

“Barton… I badly need a nap right now…” you whispered as blood ran down your lips

“Y/N hey don’t you dare sleep, We need a medic! Agent Y/N is down!” you heard Clint’s voice as you saw Pietro at the side sitting as he looked at you with apologetic eyes as you gave him a reassuring smile.

You saw small dark dots as you kept your eyes open not wanting Clint screaming at you but then you were swallowed by darkness.

Clint run to the helicarrier towards the medical bay with you on his arm limping with Steve behind him holding Pietro

“MOVE!!” he shouted as he reached the med bay placing you on one of the bed as Dr. Cho did her best to keep you alive,

Clint was thrown out of the room as they waited outside patiently

“We’re losing her! Get the defibrillator!”

“Im gonna go and see Pietro” Steve announced as Clint just nodded as he sat beside the bed you lay on, as much as Clint hated the beeping sound from the machines that was hooked up from you it is the only reminder for him of you being alive.

Maria already passed by but Natasha was nowhere to be seen, Maria told Clint that she was busy finding Banner who is now in the quinjet in stealth mode and that made them angry.

Her girlfriend is lying here barely even alive but she kept searching for that guy.

“Thank you for saving me Y/N” Pietro’s heavy accent filled the room you were in

“you still have a lot of things to accomplish kid, and stop thanking me already” you took a bite off of your sandwich which Wanda made for you

“Your sandwich really hits the spot Wanda thanks” you smiled at the witch

“your welcome Y/N, I’ll bring some more tomorrow if you want” she smiled warmly

“that would be great”

A knock on the door and a red head popped on it

“well that’s our cue, come Pietro” Wanda pulled Pietro out of the room as Natasha walked in locking the room.

“Y/N” she called you

“Natasha” you acknowledge her

“how are you?...”

“getting better now”

And a loud noise of silence embraced you both, you took a deep breath looking at the large glass with the green view outside

“I know…” you broke the silence as her head whip to look at you

“What-“ you cut her off

“I know about you and Banner…” you told her bluntly and straight forward

“Y/N… im sorry…”

You gave her a smile cupping her face as tears started to stream down her face

“It’s alright IIyubov… I really can’t blame you if you fall in love with him…” God… it’s been forever since you last called her that

You wipe off her tears as she kept saying how sorry she was as you hugged her tightly as if it was the last time you will do.

“Does he make you happy Tasha?” you asked her as she stayed silent for a while before nodding, your heart ached as it was like being stumped

“Do you love him?” you felt a nod as you closed your eyes tightly not wanting your tears to run by your face. Natasha was all you had left, your reason for everything, all you want is to protect her and keep her safe and make her happy.

And if she’s happy with him… even it hurts… you would gladly let her go

“Be with him…” Natasha froze in your embrace as her green eyes found yours

“All I wanted for you is to you to be happy Natalia… if being with him felt right then I would gladly let you go” at that moment you saw flashes of you and Natasha from the first time you met, to her being scared, the time you confessed your feeling, to your first kiss, the day you held each other as if non in the world matters, to your graduation in Red room, both of you joining SHIELD, celebrating Christmas with the Barton’s and to her lingering laughs and giggles telling you how much she loved you…

Your eyes were watery, Natasha was shocked by the words coming out of your mouth, it is her first time since you were kids seeing you this… broken… and she hated herself for she was the reason her Y/N was this. You’re her hero, her guardian, her shield you followed her everywhere around the globe happily as you were her sun.

A tear slipped from your eyes as you smiled painfully to the woman you love, to the woman you thought you would end up forever… to your home… With all the courage you spoke

“ya Iyublyu vas Natalia, Always and forever” kissing her forehead

as painful as it is, she can’t move forward with a part of her past lingering around her… You…

Breaking the embraced you were with her, taking a step back as you smiled at her as she stayed silent watching you

whispering your last words to her

“goodbye Natalia”

You walk off the room closing the door behind you with heavy heart. You are happy that she’s now making her own choices… not being tied down with anything and having control to her life, you are proud of her even that choice she made hurts you.

It breaks you to let her go but

Natasha finally found her family in Avenger

As you lost yours.

#natasha romanoff angst #natasha #natasha romanoff x re #black widow x reader #marvel #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff

252 notes · View notes

thatfanficstuff · 3 years

Text

Unexpected - Stucky x Reader

Pairing Grouping: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Steamy fluff with a dash cupful of foul mouthed Reader and super soldier. Also liberal use of sugar and baby but no sugar babies.

A/N: short fluff is no 3300+ of very steamy fluff. I’m gonna go with 16+ on this one folks. Oh, and STUCKY!!!

***

They didn’t think anything of it at first. It was just little things after all. Things that hardly warranted their attention. It wasn’t until Tony mentioned it that they began to take notice.

“Hey, Capsicle, you and tin man been sneaking off to the store without telling anyone? You could at least ask if we needed anything? I’ve been out of blueberries for days,” Tony said one night as the team sat to watch a movie.

“What are you talking about, Stark?” Steve asked with a furrowed brow.

Tony gestured at the bag of gummy worms that you and Bucky were currently sharing. “Just that you two seem to be the only ones around here that never run out of your favorite goodies. You could have stocked up for everyone. That’s all I’m saying.” He shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand through the air as if it wasn’t important, though clearly it was if he’d brought it up.

You rolled your eyes. “Tony, you’re a billionaire. Pay someone to do your shopping and have it delivered, you big baby.”

The super soldiers on either side of you laughed and you settled more firmly into your seat between them. Tony started to say something else but Natasha smacked his arm. “Shut up. Movie’s starting.”

He grumbled which brought another smile to your face. He really was an overgrown kid sometimes. Really, you were just pleased that he’d shut the hell up. After all, if you’d wanted your crushes to know you were secretly taking care of them, you would have done it not so secretly. Liking both of them was awkward enough without them being aware of it, thank you very much.

Honestly, until that day, Steve had just assumed that Tony had someone that replenished the food in the kitchenette on their floor. True, they’d never seen anyone, but it wasn’t like it happened by magic. It was just over a week later when Steve glanced up from his drawing when Bucky walked into their living room. “Hey Buck, you didn’t do any cleaning did you?”

Bucky snorted. “There’s never anything to clean is there?”

Steve frowned. “Yeah, I noticed that to. I asked Stark if he had a service that did our floor. You know what he said?”

“I’m guessing he said no or we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Bucky answered as he sat across the table from his boyfriend.

“He asked if I wanted him to get someone in to help us out.”

Confusion caused Bucky’s brow to furrow as he leaned forward. “So, someone has been coming into our space, replacing our food and cleaning up after us and we have no idea who it is?”

“Looks like it.”

There was a stretch of silence before Bucky asked, “Why?”

***

It started when the boys were on a mission. You’d raided Buck’s candy stash for movie night and before you replaced it, you’d done an inventory and picked up everything else they were needing. It wasn’t like it took much more effort. And when you’d seen how happy they were when they arrived home to all their favorites, that was all the incentive you needed to keep doing it.

You made sure to refill their stash when they were on mission or out for training so they wouldn’t catch you. There was always the chance they’d return when you weren’t expecting it, but the odds were slim. After all, you made a living by sneaking around unseen, hence the name Shadow. The cleaning started when they were gone on a mission and you didn’t want them coming home to clutter and dust. You weren’t even sure that they noticed, but it made you happy to have something else you could do for them.

Steve and Bucky were currently on week three of a mission with Nat and Sam and you were sorting out the groceries you’d just bought while you tried to think of something special you could do for them.

“So, why do you do it exactly?” you heard from behind you, causing you to jump. The twins were in San Francisco until tomorrow so you should have had the floor to yourself.

You scowled when you found Tony standing behind you wearing his infamous smirk.

“Jumpy?”

Your cheeks heated as you turned back to the task at hand, hoping Tony wouldn’t notice at least half of your food was for the super soldiers. “Mind was just elsewhere. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering why you pamper the geriatric twins if you aren’t going to take credit for it?”

You froze briefly before finishing up and placing the boys’ food back into bags so you could carry it upstairs. Finally, you turned and crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the counter behind you. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to deny it?”

He chuckled as he moved closer. “They asked me to look into it before they left. It was the complete lack of evidence that led me to you actually. Only one person I know can get around my system like that.”

“Shit.” You were a technomancer and were very skilled at making tech do what you wanted. Tony hadn’t been thrilled the first time you’d completely circumvented the tower’s security. Now he used you to test out new systems. Finally, you quit freaking out enough to meet his eyes. “Are you going to tell them?”

He tilted his head and frowned at you. “Why are you so dead set against them figuring this out? You know they won’t be anything other than grateful.”

“Because they’ll want to know why and I can’t tell them that.” Your voice was quiet but you knew he’d heard your answer.

“Well how about you tell me then, sparky?” he suggested.

You rolled your eyes at his stupid nickname as you sighed. He wasn’t the most trustworthy when it came to secrets but you were dying to tell someone. And honestly, he would probably be the least judgmental out of everyone. “You can’t tell anyone, Tony. I mean it.”

He rubbed his hands together and closed most of the distance between you. “My lips are sealed. You have my word.”

You arched a brow but chose not to comment. You closed your eyes not wanting to look at him as you made the confession. “I might possibly be just a little bit in love with them.” When you got no response you opened one eye to find Tony grinning at you as he rocked on his feet. You opened the other eye to give him a narrow-eyed look. “What?”

“I think you should tell them.”

“Not funny, Stark.”

“Wasn’t meant to be, sweetheart.” You just stared at him, saying nothing. After a few moments, he sighed. “Listen, as amusing as it might be to trick you into having that conversation with them and recording it to watch at my leisure later, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“That little admission didn’t exactly help your cause any.”

He ran a hand down his face. “I can’t tell you that I know for sure how they’ll react, because I can’t. I also can’t tell you how many times I’ve caught them checking you out when they think no one’s watching. Or how many times they’ve argued about who got to sit beside you when there was only one seat left. Or the number of whispered conversations they have that fade away when you walk into the room. And while I have had many female friends over the years, I have never suggested any of them sit in my lap unless I was trying to take things beyond friendship.”

You frowned. “I sit in their laps all the time.”

His hands went out to the side as if to say ‘see?’.

Your frown deepened as you recalled something else. “Wait, didn’t you try to get me to sit in your lap when I was still new?”

Tony chuckled and turned around to walk off. “Only proving my point, Y/L/N,” he called over his shoulder.

It was barely five minutes after he left that you gathered the bags of food to take upstairs and put away. You weren’t certain you’d survive sitting around doing nothing and there was only so much training you could stand in a day. “Protocol five, J,” you said as you stepped onto the elevator. “Super soldiers’ floor, please.”

“Of course, Miss.” Protocol five would shut down all recording devices anywhere in your vicinity until you turned it off.

You made short work of putting the food away and glanced around. Things were fairly tidy though they could use a dust and a quick vacuum. A peek in both bedrooms had you wrinkling your nose. They’d had back-to-back missions before they’d left on the current one and obviously hadn’t had time to do laundry. While the boys normally slept together, they maintained their own spaces in case one of them was having a bad night or just needed some time to themselves.

Moving into Bucky’s space, you gathered up all the laundry and threw it out into the hallway. You also stripped the bedding and added it to the pile. You put a load in the washer before moving to Steve’s room. There was more laundry there as it was the space they shared the most often. You added to the pile already in the hallway before stripping those sheets as well.

After sorting the clothes into loads, you took about half of them down to your floor and started a load there as well before heading back upstairs. You opened windows in both bedrooms to let them air out as you put fresh sheets on the beds. You dusted and straightened and vacuumed only pausing as necessary to switch out the laundry.

By the time you finished all but the last loads of laundry, their rooms looked better than they had in months and they had clean sheets to crawl into when they got home. You’d cleaned the rest of the floor as well and were heading back to your floor to take care of the last of the clothes. You had to wait a bit for them to finish drying, but then once it was all folded and sorted, you loaded up the laundry basket to put it away. You were happy you’d gotten so much done.

Apparently ignoring your feelings made you productive, who knew? Most of the clothes in your basket were Buck’s so you headed to his room first. You reached for the handle, only to have the door open on its own. Your mouth dropped and the basket fell to your feet as you ran your gaze up a naked torso to see Bucky frowning at you. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and his hair was still wet from a shower. His gaze darted from you to the basket and back as a grin crept over his face. “Fuck,” you breathed out and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I-I need to go.”

He reached out and snagged your wrist before you got more than a step. “I don’t think so, sugar.” He tugged you gently back in his direction and lifted your chin with a finger since you seemed unable to look at him on your own. “Where do you think you’re going to escape to anyway, Y/N? We know where you live.”

“I was thinking of moving to Alaska. I hear it’s nice there this time of year.”

“You hate the cold,” he said with a laugh and looped an arm around your waist.

Your heart raced and you prayed that his stupid super soldier senses wouldn’t clue him in, but who were you kidding? You’d never be that lucky.

“Oh, Steve,” he called in a sing-song voice. “I have something for you.”

“Not now, Buck. I’m…” Steve’s voice trailed off as he stepped into the hall and saw you. His ears and cheeks turned a rather adorable shade of red and you couldn’t stop a giggle at the sight. “What’s this?” he asked looking between the two of you.

Bucky nudged the laundry basket into view with his foot. “I intercepted her on her way to put away the last of the laundry.”

Steve straightened immediately. “Oh, did you?”

And damned if his voice didn’t drop a whole octave when he said it. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. You squirmed in Bucky’s hold but didn’t try to escape. There was no point. He chuckled behind you and passed you over to Steve when he held a hand out toward you. You licked your lips as you took it and let him lead you into the living room.

He sat on the couch and pulled you down onto his lap. Bucky sat right beside him and pulled your legs onto his lap. You cleared your throat. “I can sit by myself.”

“I’m sure you can, baby,” Steve assured. “But I’m happy with you in my lap. And you like to make me happy, don’t you, Y/N?”

Oh.

My.

God.

That was not fair. Not fucking fair at all.

Steve trailed a finger up your spine, chuckling when you shivered at his touch. His finger continued it’s journey up your neck then back along its previous path as he talked. “When Buck and I were kids, there wasn’t a lot of money to go around. Less so for me because of my meds. Our folks taking care of us meant putting food on the table and mending our clothes. Sometimes there might be enough for a dime novel or some sweets, but for the most part we took care of each other.”

Bucky kept rubbing little circles on your ankle with his thumb. “That hasn’t changed much over the last several decades. You know, except when I was trying to kill him. But then someone else started taking care of us. In a million little ways we didn’t always notice. Not right away anyway.”

“But then we did notice and we started making note of everything that made us feel cared for.” Steve’s hand flattened on your back and his fingers flexed slightly as he said, “Loved.”

“So, tell us, Y/N, why did you do it?” Bucky asked.

You shrugged and stared at your hands where they twisted together in your lap. “I stole your candy and needed to replace it so I picked up some other stuff. But then I saw how happy you were when you had your favorite snacks when you got home and that made me happy. The more I did, the happier and more relaxed you seemed so I kept doing it. I like it when you’re happy. Both of you.”

“That the only reason, baby? You like us happy?” Steve asked as he trailed that damned finger back up your spine.

You jumped out of his lap and stepped back until you were out of easy reach for either of them. They stared at you in surprise and you held out a hand to stop them when they started to stand. “No. You stay put. You two aren’t playing fair.”

“How’s that, doll?” Bucky asked, his blue eyes sparking with amusement.

“You with the touching and the sugar and the arm around the waist,” you said gesturing to Bucky before turning to his boyfriend. “And you with the baby and more touching and the deep voice. It’s not fair. It’s not.” You sucked in a breath. “My entire life I’ve been attracted to the unattainable guy. Every fucking time. But this time I really outdid myself because I fell in love with not just one, but two unattainable men and they’re dating each other. I mean fuck my life. Seriously. What is that? So yes, I did all of this because I love you. Both of you. And I’ll keep doing it for the same reason and it will always make me happy to see you happy. But at the end of the day, you two have each other and I don’t and that’s not fucking fair so stop. Just stop, okay?”

Steve stood first as if afraid to startle you. He stepped forward and swept his thumb across your cheek wiping away the tears you hadn’t been aware of. His hands settled on either side of your neck as he studied your eyes for the longest time. “You’ve got quite the fucking mouth on you, baby,” he said then tugged you forward and slammed his lips onto yours.

You hesitated for only a moment, a brief stretch of time and then you let yourself go. Your Steve was kissing you and it was nothing like you’d imagined. There was nothing soft or questioning about it. It was firm, sure, and altogether fucking fantastic. His hands moved to your thighs and lifted as his lips stayed glued to yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and as he turned, his lips slid from your mouth to travel the length of your neck. His open mouth kisses alternated with tiny nips that were sure to bruise and you rolled your hips against him in response. He hissed against your skin and you smiled.

A large hand grasped your chin and turned your head until another pair of lips slanted over yours. Bucky. His kiss was dark and rich and full of promises. He shifted his body so he supported your back as his hands found the hem of your shirt. Cool metal and warm flesh contrasted against your skin as he slid over your belly and up to caress your breasts. “Oh God.” You rolled your hips again, Steve pressed against your front and Bucky pressed against your ass.

“Fuck,” Steve said as his hands tightened on your waist in an effort to still your movements.

Bucky chuckled against the back of your neck and bit at the skin there, his bite firmer, more punishing than Steve’s. “What’s the matter, punk? She pushing you to the edge already?”

“Suck it, Barnes.”

“I intend to, Rogers.”

That had you grinning. This playful love they had between them was what you wanted. Was part of the reason you fell in love with both of them. Bucky’s gaze shifted to you and he mirrored your grin. “I love you, Buck.”

His grin widened. “You hear that, Stevie? She loves me. God, that’s sexy.” He kissed you soundly then pulled you from Steve’s arms to carry you bridal style to the bedroom. “I love you, too, sugar.”

That earned him another kiss. You put your hand against the door frame to stop him before he could carry you inside. This needed to be said before you were all in bed together. You turned to find Steve with a question in his eyes. “I love you, too, Steve.”

His smile was sweet, soft. “I know you do, baby.” He placed a hand on your cheek and gave you a soft kiss. “I love you, too. Have for awhile if I’m honest. We both have. Turns out we were both feeling guilty for loving someone else and it was the same girl. Never dreamed you’d actually be ours though.” You kissed him again and it only took a moment for it to take on a rougher edge.

Bucky turned you so he could carry you into the room, causing your lips to be pulled from Steve’s. You whimpered at the loss of contact and both men chuckled. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll have more of us than you can handle in a moment.”

You squealed as Buck tossed you into the middle of their king sized bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows and bit your lip as you looked at the two men standing before you. “Promise, soldiers?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a goddamn guarantee.”

#stucky x reader #stucky fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #stucky x you #poly fanfiction

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jeongvision · 3 years

Note

🗣 TEACHER!AU WITH JOHNNY

PART TWO! LET’S GET IT!

pairing. history teacher! seo johnny ✗ english teacher! fem! reader (ft. english teacher! mark lee)

genre. fluff, slight humor, high school teacher au, non idol au

warnings. some cursing and super soft hours after this huhu <3 and not proofread but we can discuss that later

author’s note. this is an continuation to this blurb! this could be read as a standalone but regardless i hope this brought a smile to your face bc it certainly did for me <3

You should’ve seen it coming. Damn it, it was right in front of you all along, so why didn’t you see it in the first place?

You and your students have been grinding nonstop for the past couple weeks to prep them for the AP English IV exam. There was a time where you requested two days off from work for emergency purposes (thankfully it was nothing too major) leaving you to ask your coworker- Mark, another teacher in your department -to help fill in your students on materials needed for the exam.

Everything was perfectly fine when you came back, your coworker going beyond your expectations in taking care of your students. However, one thing you failed to take notice of is the recent changes the college board made in their AP exams, including the course you teach. After reviewing some of the revisions they made, you felt your heart drop.

They’ve added three additional sections to the exam, meaning an additional two weeks is needed to cover the materials for your students to grasp some sort of mastery on those concepts.

You have four weeks left until the exam, and you’re already compacted those remaining weeks with other necessary materials for the exam.

“Fucking hell,” you murmured under your breath.

Running your hand through your hair, you let out a tired sigh. It’s already bad enough that you have to work overtime in making revisions to your lesson plans. However, it’s worse to see the crestfallen looks on your students’ faces when you dropped the news on them. They’re already tired enough from dealing with other classes and extracurricular activities. On top of that, you know most of them are stressing about their acceptance letters from their colleges.

You dropped the pen in your hand and rubbed both of your eyelids. Relax, y/n you told yourself. Don’t worry, you can do this. You heard the door behind you open, meaning someone walked inside the teacher’s lounge.

“Hey, y/n. What’s up- Woah, woah, WOAH! What do we have here?” the person exclaimed. You let out a chortle. You could distinctively point that voice out from anywhere, and you’re sure as hell that the state of your workspace is nothing short of hell. Taking your hands away from your face, you crossed your arms and leaned back a little in your seat to look up at the latter.

“Well, hello to you too, Mark,” you chuckled. You both gave each a fist bump before he sits down in the empty chair beside you.

“What the hell happened here?” He grabs some of the documents splayed out before you, eyes scanning through the materials that you’ve scribbled on in the past hour. “Wait, what? They added new things to the AP exam?”

You sighed and nodded dejectedly. “Yep. And somehow, I gotta squeeze all those materials into my lesson plans before they take it next month.” You rested your arms on the table and rested your head on top of them. “At this point, I just want to light myself on fire and call it a day.”

Mark lets out a cackle besides you, prompting you to smile. You’ll never mention it to him, but his laughs and smiles are always infectious. It’s what makes him so well-known and loved in the English department in the first place, both faculties and students.

“Please don’t do that. We love you too much to let you do that to yourself,” he responded.

Sitting back up in your seat, you take a glance at the clock. Just four minutes before the section ends and you have to go back to teaching your classes again. You heard your coworker clear his throat, bringing you to face him.

“Do you need help with any of this?” he offered.

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine, Mark. I appreciate the offer but I don’t want to bother you with my workload.”

“No, really. It’s fine, y/n. I only teach honors and they’re all pretty ahead in their assignments, so I have some free time if you’d like.”

Just like that, you swear you could see a halo shining above his figure, your world much brighter and clearer than it was this morning. “Oh my god, yes please.” You shifted through your papers, searching the remnants of the piles before handing it over to him. “Can you please go through these and grade them for me? Here are the answer keys for them.” After debriefing him for that stack of papers, you gave him another one. “And for these, can you make some copies for me? I need them tonight so I can plan for tomorrow’s class.”

He listened attentively to your commands, taking a mental note and nodding each instruction given to him. “Okay, got it, y/n. I’ll get these done and hand them over by the end of the day.”

You’re gawking at him, surprised that your coworker is willing to lend you a helping hand. You could honestly cry out tears of joy right now, but timing refuses to let you do so as the bell rings, marking the end of a period. You both stood up in your seats and grabbed the papers on the table into a neat pile. You let out a content sigh as you both walked out the teacher’s lounge.

“Thank you so much, Mark. You’re the best,” you exhaled. Outside your classroom, you already see some students entering inside as you left it unlocked, free for them or your coworkers to enter as they pleased. You both stood next to its entrance before he shrugs his shoulders at you.

“Hey, I mean it’s what I do best, right? Being the best.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove, earning a laugh from him. Saying goodbyes to one another, you walked inside your classroom. You nodded to the students present. “Afternoon, class,” you greeted.

“Good afternoon, Miss y/n!”

“Miss Y/n, there’s a bouquet of flowers on your desk,” one of your students called out. You raised an eyebrow. Flowers? Looking over to your desk, your student was certainly not lying and neither are your eyes. Perched in the middle of your desk lies a vase filled with varying colors of tulips. Petals are in full bloom and the stems are clipped uniformly. You walked over and saw a notecard attached to one of the flowers.

“Who is it from, Miss Y/n?”

“Yeah! Who got you flowers?”

You looked up and realized more of your students are present, capacity almost at its max. Class was starting soon so more and more are rushing in to see the surprise gift settled on your desk.

“Is it Mr. Kim in the science department? I saw you two walking together in the hallways last week.”

That assumption piqued your interest. “Wait, Mr. Kim? The physics teacher?” you asked. The student, Krystal, nodded, causing you to huff incredulously. “Krystal, please. We’re merely just friends.”

Another student chimes in. “Friends don’t lock arms with each other at work.”

“Jongin, please. Your last girlfriend only stayed with you for a month and she started dating an upperclassman a week later.”

“Hey—”

“Guys, calm down,” you interjected. “As much as I love you crazy bunch, I am still your teacher. Therefore, what occurs in my personal life stays private, and how much I am willing to share with you all lies in my discretion.” But unbeknownst to you, one of your students sneaks behind you to get a glance of the card, discreetly reading the contents:

‘The best deserves nothing less than the best.

Yours truly.’

The student, Luna, almost lets out a squeal. “Guys! Guys!” You jumped in shock, startled by her sudden presence and her high-pitched voice. “I think it’s Mr. Lee! The other English teacher!”

All attention is now on her, excitement filled in the air.

“Mr. Lee? The one that teaches honors?”

“The one with boba eyes?”

“The one that laughs at everything?”

Luna nods to each question, visibly thrilled with the subtle jump in her steps as she walked towards her classmates. “Yes! I heard Miss y/n calling him the best earlier and Mr. Lee joked about being the best! And in the card, it said ‘the best deserves nothing less than the best’.” The bell rang, marking the beginning of the period, but that didn’t stop your students from chattering with happiness, faces completely wiped from fatigue and stress of the upcoming exams. Some students entered your classroom late to the discussion, prompting other students to fill them in only to also be electrified by the ‘news’.

You run a hand through your hair again and sighed. Not this again, you thought to yourself. But just before you could jump in to stop all this chaos, you heard someone knock on your open door, diverting your attention and your class’ to the intruder.

“Well, good afternoon, class,” the person chuckled. “Why’s it so boisterous here? Did I miss a party or something?”

Of course, what better person to appear now of all times? It was none other than the infamous history teacher, Johnny Seo. You rolled your eyes before laughing. Coincidence, my ass.

“Mr. Seo! Someone gave Miss Y/n a bouquet of tulips! She has a secret admirer!” Luna stated.

He raised an eyebrow at her direction. “Oh, does she now?” He looks back at you with a grin. “Did Miss Y/n find out who this secret admirer is?”

“We think it’s Mr. Lee from honors English.”

“And what makes you think so?”

“Because we heard her call him the best earlier before class started, and the notecard called her the best.”

“Coincidence? I think not,” Jongin nodded.

All of the students followed along in unison, profoundly proud of their assumptions that left you shaking your head in disbelief. Surely, you had a smile on your face, but it’s surprising to know how your students are able to make such large assumptions based on groundless evidence. You sat down in your chair and turned on your computer, getting your lesson plan ready for the period as your students entertained themselves with Mr. Seo.

Johnny takes it all in, nodding to all of them before walking up behind your desk. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that you don’t pester too much to Miss y/n about it. You know how much she likes to keep her life private.” While you were browsing through your saved files and pulling up powerpoints, you felt the latter tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Right, Mrs. Seo?”

And just like that, your hands stilled. Wait, did he just—

“Hold up..”

“What?”

“Did you just—”

“Mrs. Seo?”

“Huh?”

You squeezed your eyelids shut. Oh my god, here we go again—

“YOU GUYS ARE MARRIED??”

jeongvision’s milestone event!

#johnny #nct johnny #johnny scenarios #johnny imagines #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #johnny x reader #johnny x oc #johnny fluff #johnny smut #johnny suh #johnny seo #johnny angst

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bokettochild · 3 years

Text

Cider and Coca Part 2

Part 1

Who wants to see Ravio get his home back? Show of hands?

When the portal appears in his room of the castle, swirling and golden, Ravio stares at it in awe.

It’s beautiful and feels like Mr. Hero’s power, like that of Miss Princess Zelda, and he’s drawn to it. What lies beyond, he doesn’t know, but he does know that it feels safe, and despite being an utter and complete coward (no matter how much Mr. Hero has told him he’s not) he isn’t scared of it.

When Hilda comes in for their regular evening talk, draping in her regal bed robes and holding a mug that’s far too fancy to be at home with the cider he’s tried time and again to replicate, his princess panics, voice raising with fury that the deal she’d made with Hyrule’s princess has been broken.

“But no one has come through it.” Ravio murmurs softly, trying his best to appease her.

The princess glares at it but her mouth snaps shut as her mug hits the floor. It’s golden, so it doesn’t shatter. Ravio almost wishes that it would. “We’ll investigate it tomorrow.” She says at last, face pinched and brows furrowed as she wheels about on her heel. “For now, you can stay in one of the guest rooms.”

And Ravio nods, but once he’s been left alone in another room he immediately creeps back into his room, staring at the portal as he sips slowly on the not-quite-right cider. It’s not salty at least, but it’s missing that wild taste that made drinking it an adventure.

The portal is enticing, and even though he knows Hilda doesn’t want him or anyone else to go through, his heart yearns for a cluttered little cottage on the edge of an orchard, bees humming as they do their work and the songs of lands far away rolling over the fields that stretch out and away from it, carried over the breeze in the dulcet tones of a pink haired hylian who’s fingers work at light smithy work and embroidery.

He can’t go, he reminds himself as he stuffs his scarves into his bottomless sack.

Hilda will be mad; he whispers as robes and shoes and any number of items follow after.

He can’t leave, even if he’s no longer needed as an advisor now that Hilda has found better and more bold people to aid her, his mind reminds him as he ties the bag shut, slipping his hooded robe back on a with a sigh.

“Hilda’s going to be so mad.” He murmurs as his foot crossed over to whatever lies beyond.

He finds himself in a different place entirely, a great giant castle full of people and warriors and knights, and just outside there is fighting and shouts and cries of fear.

It’s little to no time before he’s swept up in the battle when what he assumes are enemy forces break through the gates, and for all that he’s a coward and a merchant, he’s learned a few things from Mr. Hero, and he does what he can to protect both himself and the other people in the castle. And when the dust clears and there are three Mr. Hero’s, although none of them his, he learns the truth of the portals and the war happening around him.

It’s hard to not be pulled along into the fighting and non-sense that is war, and injuries and illness plague them on the daily. There is little comfort in the army camps, and on the cold night all that can be done is bundle deeper into his robes and share a few of his extra scarves when the younger ones become chilled.

Mr. Captain Hero Sir, the tallest of the three heroes, will settle with him beside the fire many a night, a child pressed to either of his sides as Tune and Captain Hero Sir Jr. Either doze or stare into the flames. Neither child is innocent to war, and neither rest easy in the long nights that follow a battle, their hands resting on their blades and their eyes sharp and open against traitors.

There people are cold. They are made harsh and wary and thin by battles after battle, and they meet the world with wariness that Ravio wishes he could wash away with the same ease as his cocoa had offered Mr. Hero.

It’s that thought that sets him off one night, watching the soaked and trembling youngsters' bundle together under warm scarves and the single blanket they’ve been able to find, Mr. Captain Hero Sir lending his own heat to the pile as he holds both of the younger heroes. It’s like watching Mr. Hero come in from the rain all over again, and he wishes that the trio could have the comforts that he’d been able to offer or help Mr. Hero to gather on the rare trip he made home.

And then it strikes him that he does have some of them.

He’s puttering about the fire in a practiced yet clumsy manner, the eyes of the trio of heroes following his motions as he juices the apples and spiced the juice, boiling it over their campfire and handing it out in mugs.

It’s too bitter. He realizes mournfully as he sips his own, but the three all release sighs of delight as they drink, and only thanks can be heard as they smile up at him.

Ravio only wishes they could taste Mr. Hero’s cider; they would be over the moon.

The war ends and he is sent back to his own world. His own Hyrule. He does not bother to correct Lana when she calls it that, there is no point in telling her to send him back to his homeland when there is nothing that waits there except for a bitter and still recovering sister who struggles to speak with him in any manner but that of a princess to her aid. So, he lets the Time Guardian make her mistake, and when she opens another portal, he sees that she smiles, almost knowing, as he waves back at her and steps through.

The portal swirls and tosses him about, nothing like the pathways between Lorule and Hyrule, and Ravio is left lying on the ground when it spits him out, stomach churning as he looks up hazily at apple blossoms and bees that buzz soothingly as they go about their work.

A smile pulls at his face as his body settles, and he’s pulling himself up ad looking around with growing delight as he takes in the familiar cottage and orchard, eyes feasting on the sight.

It must be a Thursday, he tells himself as he looks around. It’s noon and Mr. Hero isn’t puttering about the hives in the back like he does on Mondays, and he’s not working the orchard like he does on Tuesdays, and the washing isn’t hung out to dry like it is on Wednesdays. There’s no fire roaring from the mini-forge round the back like there is on Fridays and Saturdays, and while it could very well be Sunday with how still it is, there isn’t a mug and stool by the front door.

He’d asked once why Mr. Hero liked watching the sunrise every Sunday morning, but his friend had only said it was something even he didn’t have the answer to, only that he’d been doing it since childhood and had no wish to stop now. The mug of weak tea he’d sip as he sat would always be forgotten for some reason or another, and it isn’t there now, at mid-day, when Mr. Hero would be too busy to retrieve it.

So, it’s Thursday, when Mr. Hero cleans his items.

Only, when he taps nervously at the door, there’s no response, and when he peeks in at the single window that hasn’t been left shuttered up, there is no sign of life, only a faint coating of dust across the kitchen table.

Ravio's brow furrows. That won’t do at all! Mr. Hero not using the table? Has he reverted to eating outside alone? Or not at all? Heavens! His friend is thin enough as is! He doesn’t need Mr. Hero fading away entirely!

Worry gnaws as his heart as he searches his pockets for the spare key. He’d only realized after they parted that he’d never returned the thing, and in the months since, he’d found comfort in having another little piece of home. After all, Mr. Hero made the key himself! Something that most people can’t replicate and therefore they can never sneak into his house. The item in question is at the bottom of his pocket, and he only finds it with the help of its faded pink ribbon, the silky fabric catching on his roughened fingers as he digs about.

It clicks into the door stiffly, as it always has, and Ravio has to bite back a sigh as he realizes that Mr. Hero never did get around to fixing that blasted lock and stopping it from sticking every time.

When the door opens, it does so with a creak that makes Ravio wince, and dust flies up around him and makes him cough and wheeze for a good minute before he can enter. When he does step through the door though, his eyes widen in horror.

It’s empty. There’s no sign of life; everything is covered with dust and Mr. Hero’s blasted rocker is still shoved in the corner where he’s last put it. Ravio’s brow furrows. Mr. Hero always used that bloody chair when he cleaned his items, a smirk on his face as he’d stared pointedly at Ravio, rocking the thing in its creaking manner as his oil-cloth would slide over weapons and items, a faint chuckle in his voice when Ravio finally breaks and insults it. He hates the thing, but as he walks further into the room, he finds himself brushing his fingers over its dusty arms with a sad little smile on his face.

The house is empty. Mr. Hero has gone somewhere, possibly yet another adventure, and the house is stale and cold and smells of nothing but dust.

This won’t do, not at all.

He’s bustling about with Sheerow in minutes, dusting surfaces and organizing items. It takes three whole days of fussing; washing the curtains and sheets and tablecloths and hanging them out to dry, dusting off the items on the shelves and lighting the candles around that awful monster mask, turning the mattresses in the bedrooms and cleaning the kitchen from top to bottom.

The whole while, he keeps a pot of cider on, trying his hardest to bring back the smell of home.

By the time he finishes cleaning the house and setting it back to rights, he’s been visited four times by villagers who think that a robbers broken into the house. Each one explains that Mr. Hero has gone away again, just as he expected, but they also welcome Ravio back with bright smiles and even brighter rupees as they wager and haggle to buy some items they’d been hoping to acquire before he’d left.

Before he knows it, he’s got folks coming up to see him regularly, and just like before he’s got his shop all set up in the main room, his poor imitation of cider brewing over the fire and filling the house with a smell that isn’t dust and dirt.

The villagers offer advice on how to better make the cider, how to try and replicate Mr. Hero’s special brew, but none of them appear to know it any better than he does, and the longer he tries the less the house smells like home.

And then, one day, he’s busy tidying the shed, one of the places he’d failed to get in his initial cleaning, when the door busts open and Ravio finds himself darting into a corner to hide as several armed men dressed like knights enter. He’s delighted when he sees Mr. Hero among them, even more delighted to see familiar and not so familiar faces of the family that his friend has brought back with him, and his first order of business (after trying to sell them something) is to invite them up to the house for some cider. The heroes agree, following after and watching as he putters about in a nervous imitation of the easy dance Mr. Hero preforms when he’s working in his kitchen. The cider smells sweet, but wrong as he nervously pours it out into mugs and distributes it, and he has to fight back a wince as Mr. Hero’s face stiffens at the first sip.

“This is good!” Mr. Captain Hero Sir states, sipping at the cider happily, face nostalgic as he looks into his mug. “Just like I remember.” And the others all nod in kind, murmuring thanks and compliments as they drink, but Mr. Hero is still frowning down into his drink and it makes Ravio’s hard patter lightly in shame.

“I know it’s not as good as yours.” Ravio mumbles softly. “I did try, but there’s just-”

“Cloves.” Mr. Hero looks up, brows furrowed. “Did you use cloves?”

And Ravio’s words stutter to a stop, mind winding back to the jar of little black particles that Mr. Hero given him. The ones he had looked at later when he’d unpacked his bags and thought they were seeds from a trade that must have occurred earlier on, one he hadn’t remembered. “Lolia below!” He groans, tugging at the ears of his hood. “I forgot!”

The smile on Mr. Hero’s face is the faintest hint of one, but it’s the closest he’s had in ages to seeing the real thing and Ravio treasures it, smiling softly to himself as the veteran hero pulls himself up out of his cursed rocking chair and moves towards the kitchen, shaking his head. “I’ll make a new batch.”

Mr. Captain Hero Sir snorts into his mug, chuckling softly as Ravio’s eyes fall on him and cocking a brow in question. “So sure you want him in the kitchen?”

Ravio blinks, confused. “Why ever wouldn’t he go in the kitchen, Mr. Captain Hero Sir? It’s his house.”

And that’s all it takes to have Mr. Hero back in the room, a real grin playing over his surly features as he glances between Mr. Captain Hero Sir and Ravio. “’Mr. Cap-’”

“Shut it.” Mr. Captain Hero Sir snaps, face flushing, only making Mr. Hero chuckle mischievously as he looks from one to the other.

“We met in the war.” Ravio explains, motioning to the captain. “When you- when the portals were closed, I stayed home, but then one appeared in my room and-.”

The smile he’d been so delighted to see fades as Mr. Hero stares at him in horror. “You fought in a war?”

“Yes. But don’t worry! I mostly just sold items! I only fought when I really had to and it wasn't all that dangerous. You’re the one who said I wasn’t a coward, Mr. Hero, and when I tried to think of you and how you would act, I didn’t feel so very afraid and I was able to help and-”

“Ravio.” Mr. Hero’s brows furrow in what Ravio knows is a subtle sign of concern. “Don’t worry about it. I just didn’t think Hylia would tug you across time to fight a witch.”

And he nods; he understands. Mr. Hero doesn’t like people having to fight. He doesn’t like adventures and wars and Ravio can understand why, so he doesn’t press, instead turning to his friend and staring at him with all the hope he can gather glimmering in his eyes. “Regardless, Mr. Hero, would you please make us some cider? I haven’t had yours in forever, and no matter what I try it doesn’t come out right!”

Mr. Captain Hero Sir snorts. “Legend can’t cook to save his life, why would you want him to make cider? Your’s is terrific, Rav! We don’t need burnt apple juice to spoil it!”

It’s said in a teasing way, and Mr. Hero’s glare is in no ways serious, but Ravio stares at the rest of the heroes in horror all the same. “Are you saying that Mr. Hero has never cooked for you? He’s never made you cider? Mr. Hero! How could you deprive these poor souls of your brilliant creations!”

The veteran hero rolls his eyes and darts back into the kitchen, but Ravio isn’t done. “No tarts? No pies? Please tell me you at least shared some of your lovely apples with them Mr. Hero!”

But Mr. Hero doesn’t answer, he only continues to glide about the kitchen and whip up a batch of cider that just feels and smells so much like home that tears leak down Ravio’s face, and he’s bursting into sobs as a mug is placed in his hands in the familiar dismissing way that Mr. Hero does thing, as if it’s a side though although they both know it isn’t.

“Ravio, are you-”

“Ravio! You’re crying!” Tune and Captain Hero Junior both cry out, but Ravio can’t bring himself to care as sweetness and spice rolls over his tongue all familiar and safe.

He has been at this house for a month and five days, but it is only when he takes a sip of Mr. Hero’s heavenly cider that he finally feels that he is home.

The heroes have to leave again after a few days, but Mr. Hero allows him to stay (he pretends he’s doing Ravio a favor but the hug that the merchant received once the others were out of sight that first evening is all he needs to know that Mr. Hero has missed him too). There’s fussing and bustling for all of the morning that they depart, but then Ravio is left alone in his and Mr. Hero’s house, with only Sheerow as a companion.

That’s alright. As much as he loves the heroes, he loves the quiet as well. It’s never truly silent here, and the hum of the bees and the singing of Mr. Hero’s bird friends mixed with the song of the breeze and the dancing of the trees to fill his head with noises of home and safety and life.

That doesn’t mean he’s opposed to it when the heroes all come back, time and again.

The wind is whipping fiercely outside when Mr. Hero and the others stumble in through the door, half-frozen and soaked to the skin and so, so reminiscent of so many nights before when he and Mr. Hero were still getting to know each other.

Just like those nights, Mr. Hero’s first course of action is to stumble into the basement where there’s more clamor than usual as Ravio guides the heroes to the living room and pulls out warm blankets for them while Mr. Rancher stokes the fire higher.

Scarfs are wrapped around necks and Ravio delights in handing out fuzzily knit socks for them to wear on their cold and frozen feet. But feet aren’t the only things that are frozen, and the sound of a clatter in the kitchen and a burst of swearing has him darting towards the room, only to see Mr. Hero kneeling in a puddle of apple juice, fingers trembling pitifully as he curses the stairs and the floor and the spilled juice that will no longer be able to become cider.

Ravio frowns as he pulls his friend up, gently guiding Mr. Hero into the living room and settling him before the fire, even as he protests and insists that he still needs to clean the spill and make something warm.

“Let me do it. I’ve been sitting all toasty and you’re half frozen!” Ravio coaxes, rubbing icy fingers in his hands carefully and breathing over them in hopes of inciting some warmth. Cold hands are bad as is, but with Mr. Hero’s arthritis they must be downright miserable!

Mr. Hero scowls, about to protest when Ravio adds. On. “I’ll make hot cocoa.”

That stops Mr. Hero from saying anything, and the veteran hero only nods sullenly as he settles where Ravio had placed him, blushing lightly as Ravio presses a warm kiss to freezing hands before darting up and towards the kitchen.

Cider is a dance full of tripping and blustering, but cocoa is practiced and known and comfortable, and as the chocolate melts in a saucepan he busies himself with the puddle on the floor, listening with a warm smile to the idle banter that leaks in from the living room.

The cocoa is perfectly frothy and sweet when it is done, and Ravio makes extra sure to sprinkle an extra bit of ground chocolate flakes and cinnamon over the cocoa in Mr. Hero’s mug.

Curious eyes follow him as he trails through the living room with a tray of steaming mugs, and he starts with the youngest heroes and works his way forwards, carefully depositing a slightly bitter one in Tune’s hands and an extra sweet one in those of Captain Hero Sir Jr. If cider was any indication, they’ll like what he’s done for them.

He doesn’t know enough about the others to do anything special, but their eyes light up all the same at the smell of the stuff, all save for Mr. Rancher, who looks down at the mug sadly before handing it off to his protégé. Ravio is halfway through handing Mr. Captain Hero Sir a mug when he sees the little exchange, hurt filling his eyes at the rejection of his labor. “Do you not like cocoa, Mr. Rancher Sir?”

There’re snorts of laughter from the others at the name, but Ravio ignores them, green eyes boring into midnight blue as the rancher shifts uncomfortably.

“We’ve never had cocoa before.” Mr. Champion Hero Sir frowns, looking down at his extra mug and then up to his mentor. “Why don’t you at least try it?”

“I can’t.” Mr. Rancher murmurs apologetically, offering a weak smile to the merchant and then his protégé. “I’m- uh...allergic.”

Understanding dawns on him. “I’m so terribly sorry! Would you-”

“If I may,” Mr. Rancher stands, brushing himself off. “Might ah make some tea? I can do that at least without setting things on fire, so you needn’t fuss ‘bout it.”

“Of course! Mr. Hero keeps some tea in the corner cabinet I believe.” He answers, and the hero nods thankfully before ducking into the kitchen.

Ravio shakes his head to himself. How unfortunate, but at least Mr. Rancher can have cider, apples don’t hurt wolves after all.

He’s handed out mugs to the rest of the heroes before he moves to curl up at Mr. Hero’s side. His house-mate huffs lightly as Ravio has to help him hold his mug while his fingers thaw, but once he’s taking small sips, Ravio is bustling about the two of them with pillows to make them comfortable, and making sure that Mr. Hero’s favorite blanket is snug over both of their shoulders before he takes a proper sip himself.

It’s sweet and rich, and after having so much cider, eh sighs in disappointment. “Still doesn’t beat your cider, Mr. Hero.”

“I told you I could make some.” His housemate responds with a huff. “But why would you want cider when you can have cocoa?”

“Why would you want cocoa when you could have cider?” Ravio challenges in return.

Just like that, the old argument blooms between them as they bundle close together, his scarf around both their necks and the blanket covering their shoulders and trapping the heat of the fire before them. Giggles sound from around them as the heroes listen to them squabble, their lack of malice clear to the others as the age-old argument comes to its close with Mr. Hero scoffing and slurping his drink pointedly.

“If you offered cocoa at an event in any other country but Lorule, it would sell like mad, whereas if you offered cider, you’d be left with half a barrel to drink at the end of the day.”

“The opposite is true in Lorule though.” He responds with a grin, but he lets it end there as Mr. Hero yawns heavily, head drooping to lean ever so slightly on his shoulder. A smile lights his face as he gently takes Mr. Hero’s empty mug, ignoring the coos and chuckles of the others as he pulls the blanket closer around Mr. Hero’s shoulders before running a hand through long pink locks. There’s still ice in Mr. Hero’s hair, but it’s silky soft like rabbit fur all the same.

There’s no comeback to his argument as Mr. Hero falls asleep on his shoulder, and Ravio wouldn’t have it any other way.

He turns to the others with a mock glare, brows low and eyes glinting with mischief as Mr. Rancher re-enters the room with a mug of tea, a surprised smile on his face. “Cider is the superior drink, correct?”

Some grin with mischief and agree, and others roll their eyes with a smile as they sip their drinks, but no one contests his statement, and he feels satisfied that he has, at last, won the argument. It’s almost a shame Mr. Hero didn’t get to see it, but looking at the peaceful face that leans on his shoulder, he supposes he doesn’t mind too very much.

#cocoa and cider #apple cider #cocoa #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu ravio #lu legend #lu warriors #lu wind #lu wild #lu time #lu twilight #fluffics #linked universe fic requests #domestic fluff

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honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

Looking Too Closely (Bucky x Fem!Stark!Reader) — part four

Y’all. I am dumb as all fucking hell. I’ve had this finished for days and just keep forgetting to post it. Send help

Summary: Ominous stuff and the Father Test results oooooo

Warnings: angst but that’s it I think

The next day, you and Wanda finally tackle everything Pepper bought you. You’re glad you took Tony’s advice (for once) and asked Wanda for help because it’s so much stuff.

“That is not my color. There’s no way I’d wear that.”

“You won’t know unless you try it on!” Wanda argues, holding the shirt out to you.

You push it back to her chest. “Nope. You take it.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, setting it aside. “Pepper got these for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” But I don’t like owning things.

Wanda sighs. “I’m sorry, but it’s okay to own things, you know.”

You look up in shock. You completely forgot she can read minds.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, grimacing. “I try not to, I swear, but that was a strong feeling,” she raises her eyebrows for emphasis.

“I’m not used to it,” you confess. “Mom never had enough money for us to have anything but the essentials. So, this…” You gesture at the pile of clothes around you and on your bed. “It’s weird.”

“I understand,” Wanda says. “But, I mean, you didn’t have anything when you got here. These are all essentials. It just looks like a lot.”

“You’re probably right,” you murmur. “You can still have the shirt, though. That really isn’t my color.”

“Okay,” she chuckles. “I’ll take it.”

You hear footsteps down the hall, and they sound a lot like Bucky’s, which is why when he knocks on the door, you’re not at all surprised when it sounds like his knock, too.

“Come in,” you call out, and sure enough, it’s Bucky.

“Hey-- Oh, hey Wanda.”

She waves.

He looks back at you, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, I was just checking on you.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Why?”

He shrugs, evidently not having a reason. “I...I don’t know. I hadn’t seen you since yesterday, so I guess I just...wanted to check.”

“Oh,” you nod slowly. “I’m good. Thanks for checking.”

“Yeah,” he says, waving once more. “See you.” He closes the door behind him, and you listen to his footsteps retreat back into the main area.

“Weird,” you mutter, grabbing another shirt to examine.

Wanda snickers.

You drop the shirt, giving her a look. “What?”

“Nothing…” She shakes her head, picking up a pair of pants. “These are cute.”

“Wanda,” you sigh. “What?”

“Nothing!” She tries again. “Really, it’s nothing. Bucky is the one mind I can’t really read. He’s good at hiding things.”

“But?”

She shrugs. “He doesn’t really check up on people.”

“Okay? And?”

“Nothing,” she says again. “Like I said, I can’t read him. And we have a bigger thing to worry about. Do you like these?” She turns the pants around for you.

You accept her subject change reluctantly. The pants are cute.

+++

When Bucky returns to the main area, he’s immediately called away by Steve.

“Meeting in five,” Steve says. “At MedBay.”

Bucky follows Steve to the elevator, narrowing his eyes. “Why MedBay?”

“It’s about Y/N,” Steve says quietly, stepping inside the elevator with Bucky.

“Did the results come back?” Bucky asks.

“They must’ve,” Steve sighs.

“What are we gonna do if she’s like us?” Bucky asks. “She has no clue that she is.”

“That we know of,” Steve adds.

“No, Steve, I don’t think she knows,” Bucky argues. “At all.”

“Well, we’ll figure that out later,” Steve says.

The elevator stops at MedBay, letting the two super soldiers off.

They’re met with Dr. Cho, Tony, and Natasha standing around. The look that Nat gives Steve is enough to let him know it’s bad.

Of course, bad is subjective. Because if you are a super soldier, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing (you won’t drop dead from it) -- but Bucky isn’t sure it’s a good thing, either. Especially if you don’t know what you are, because that means you were given the serum against your will and without your knowledge. But who would do that to you -- to a fucking kid?

Tony breaks the silence. “Well, we don’t need to stand around staring at each other. I’m sure you’ve put two and two together.”

Bucky’s heart sinks. “She’s a super soldier?”

Dr. Cho shakes her head. “I’m not completely sure.” She pauses. “But based on the DNA so far...yes. A form of one.”

“A form of one?” Bucky blurts.

“I’ve already called Dr. Banner,” Tony says. “He should be here tomorrow to help us figure this one out. Quickly.”

“Do you think someone is trying to recreate the serum?” Steve asks.

“Not trying to,” Tony says. “If Y/N is anything to go off of, they’ve done it.”

“But how does she not remember it?” Natasha questions. “It sounds like something someone would remember.”

“Unless she was unconscious,” Bucky adds quietly. “Or whoever it was wiped her memory.”

Everyone looks at Bucky, afraid that he’s right.

“We don’t know that, but...I do know her mom worked for HYDRA. Or a group closely associated with them,” Tony waves his hands aimlessly. “FRIDAY is still digging.”

“And you had sex with her?” Bucky laughs darkly. “Of course.”

“Hey, I don’t need your judgement, Barnes,” Tony snaps. “All I need is some help. Because until I say so, this stays between us. Okay?” Tony raises his eyebrows. “Barnes?”

“Okay,” Bucky mutters.

“Understood,” Steve says with a nod, but Tony wasn’t worried about him, or Natasha who nods in agreement, too. Tony’s worried about Bucky because he’s latched onto you in some weird way that Tony can’t quite place, but he knows it’s going to cause issues.

“I’ll try to convince her to start training with us,” Nat says. “At least with Wanda and I first. It’ll give her something to do and I can see how she behaves.”

Steve likes the idea. “If she wants to train with me or Buck, that’s fine too, we can gauge if she does or doesn’t know about her strength.”

“We don’t even know if she has super strength,” Bucky argues. “All I’ve noticed is that her senses are sharper than normal.”

“She’s been on the run,” Nat counters. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s holding things back from us. Don’t give me that look, I’m not saying I blame her, I’m saying I understand.”

Bucky doesn’t stop glaring at her, but he does nod.

Tony breaks the tension with a clap of his hands. “Now that we’re all on the same page, I need to go. I’ve got some news to break to the kid.”

All heads slowly turn toward Tony.

“Wait…” Nat furrows her eyebrows.

“She’s really yours?” Steve asks quietly.

“She’s really mine,” Tony nods, smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Talk about being father of the year. Not even knowing your kid exists until she’s almost twenty.” He laughs it off because that’s all he knows how to do, but everyone can tell he’s beating himself up inside.

+++

When you see Tony again, Wanda is gathering the few clothes you decided not to keep.

“Hey munchkin,” he says, knocking on your door with two knuckles. “You got a minute?”

“Sure,” you shrug.

“I’ll see you later,” Wanda waves, punching Tony lightly in the arm on her way by.

“What’s up?” You ask. You’re grateful he’s come in now because it gets you out of hanging all this shit up, but you won’t admit that to him.

“Thought we could take a walk,” he shrugs. “I realized I haven’t given you the grand tour.”

You chuckle. “I’ve been almost everywhere, I mean, what else is there?”

Tony only smiles.

You shake your head, rolling your eyes. “Fine, lead the way.”

Tony doesn’t seem nearly as happy as you thought he would when you agreed.

Still, you follow him, and you don’t question his mood. Even if the two of you do bicker like hell, you kind of don’t mind spending some time with him. Working in the lab yesterday was more fun than you expected it to be.

Tony takes you down to the garage where all his cars are. There’s a couple motorcycles, one for Steve and one for Natasha. Bucky, surprisingly, doesn’t have one. Tony doesn’t point a car out and say it’s Bucky’s, so you don’t know if he even has one.

From there, he walks you through the business floors, nodding to the few people that pass by. You notice the odd looks you get, though. Tony doesn’t bat a single eyelash.

It’s when Tony walks you through his lab again that you realize he’s stalling about something, but you say nothing, letting him do whatever it is he’s doing. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re kind of enjoying the tour.

The last stop is the balcony near the very top of the tower. It’s right outside Tony’s office, unsurprisingly, but you truthfully didn’t even notice it the first day you were here.

You take in the view of the city from here, the breeze on your cheeks. You have a feeling you’ll be sneaking in here more often than not to come out here.

“So… The results came in.”

Slowly, you look over at Tony. “The results?” You pause. “From the paternity test? Already?”

“Dr. Cho uses different technology here,” he shrugs. “It’s quicker.”

“Okay…” You murmur. “What’s the verdict?”

Tony chuckles as he takes his sunglasses off. “What do you think?” He pauses, looking down. “What do you want it to be?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, leaning against the railing. “What did you want it to be?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a father,” he admits, surprising you. “But the fact that it never happened just told me I wasn’t cut out for it. And even now, I think that’s true. I mean, look at me,” he scoffs. “I didn’t even know I have a daughter until she’s almost twenty, and she had to come to me. I couldn’t even go to her.”

You stare out at the city, not blinking, not moving, barely breathing.

“I always said I’d try to be better than my dad if I was one,” he continues. “I’d be around more. I’d be more involved in my kid’s life than I would in my work. Guess that one didn’t work out.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” you chuckle, trying to slice through some of the awkward tension, “every time my mom told me you’re my dad, I...I would be two seconds away from telling her to go to hell. But I never did.” You shrug. “I never believed her, though, either.”

“Do you believe her now?”

“Hard to argue with science, I guess,” you admit. “We can ignore it, though, if you’d rather I just...quietly leave.”

Tony shakes his head. “No. No, I’m not gonna make you leave.”

“Okay.”

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” he says. “And you can change rooms, too, just let me know. There’s bigger ones a few floors down that are empty. It’s just Bucky and Steve on one end.”

You snicker. “You sure you want me rooming on the same floor as them?”

“Yeah, you know what, I take that back,” he nods firmly. “You’re staying where you are.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” he replies almost instantly.

Heavy silence settles over the two of you for a few moments. The city breeze is the only noise in your ears, aside from the car engines, but you’ve gotten good at tuning those out.

“You’re not gonna get pissed if I don’t call you dad, right?” You ask.

“As long as you don’t get pissed if I keep calling you munchkin.”

You sigh. Win some, lose some. “Fine.”

“Good deal,” Tony says with a nod.

“Can I ask something else?”

“Shoot.” He pushes away from the railing to face you instead, leaning his hip against the glass.

“Do you remember my mom at all?” Before he can reply, you say, “It’s fine if you don’t. I’m just curious.”

He hangs his head. “I don’t. I’m sorry, munchkin.”

You shrug. “Probably for the better, anyway.”

Tony stills. It’s the first time he’s ever heard you talk about your mom, really, but with what he knows, it only makes him more suspicious. FRIDAY won’t finish digging until sometime tonight or tomorrow, but the beginning of what she’s found doesn’t look positive. And neither does your current expression.

#looking too closely #bucky barnes x fem!stark!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years

Text

Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever - George Weasley

Title: Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever Pairing: George x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Warnings: NSFW!!! Dirty talk, fingering, oral (male receiving), throat fucking, orgasm denial, light spanking, degredation. Summary: turns out falling in love with your enemy is more complicated that George and Y/N thought. A/N: here it is, the sequel to good girl!! This actually ended up turning out differently than I thought I would and im not sure how I feel about that but I’m gonna upload it anyway otherwise it will quite literally never end up on here haha. But anyway, feedback is always appreciated/welcome!! Read part 1 here!

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George lets out a sigh, causing Y/N to glare up at him. He had promised to be good when Y/N agreed to let him tag along with her to the library, but they’ve only been there for 20 minutes and this is already the 5th time he’s let out a deep sigh. George grins at her, and even though she wants to be mad, Y/N finds him too adorable to even act like she’s mad.

Y/N rests her chin on her hand, just letting herself watch George for a moment. It’s hard for her to believe that just a few months ago she hated his guts, because now just the sight of George makes her feel dizzy with love. “What do you want, George?”

“Your attention,” George responds as if the answer is obvious. “When you said I could come with you I figured you’d end up sucking my cock or something. Not actually do homework.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the shiver that runs down her spine. “How can one person be that horny? We literally just had sex this morning.”

George bites his lip, memories of their early morning meeting taking over his mind. Y/N is still apprehensive about spending the night in his dorm, so Saturday mornings have become their opportunity to be together before George has Quidditch practice. There isn’t a deserted corridor or secret passageway they haven’t done it in, and they spent quite a few hours together this morning in the same secret passageway they hooked up in for the first time.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately, darling? You’re absolutely gorgeous and not to mention sexy,” George compliments, reaching out to cup Y/N’s cheek. “I just can’t control myself around you. Every time I’m around you I have the overwhelming urge to just touch you and pull you close.”

Y/N can feel her cheeks flushing, and she tilts her chin forward to silently ask George for a kiss. He kisses her briefly, but it doesn’t fail to make Y/N feel lightheaded. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Georgie. And while I find you extremely, extremely sexy, I do actually have to do my homework. Because of your inability to keep your hands to yourself I’m falling behind in Potions and Herbology.”

“Oh come on Snivellous loves you, he’d probably do your assignment for you if you asked. And Sprout is a total pushover. All you have to do is give her some sob story and you’ll get an extension easily.” George’s lower lip juts out, giving Y/N his best pout. “Please? Just pay attention to me a little bit.”

“Or, you can sit here with me quietly while I do my homework, and when I’m all done you can take me to the room of requirement and have your way with me,” Y/N suggests, picking her quill back up.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.” George sits back in his chair, just watching Y/N work. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she works on a Potions essay and George finds it incredibly cute. He finds it hard to believe that he once wanted nothing to do with Y/N. He’s absolutely captivated by everything she does, and he could spend hours just sitting there watching her do nothing.

“First Quidditch game of the year next week,” George comments idly. He knows he shouldn’t say anything, but he’s been sitting there quietly for the past 45 minutes and he can’t resist his urge to say something. It’s a Saturday evening and they’re the only two in the library, so he doesn’t even have anyone else around to watch and distract himself.

Y/N hums, not looking up from her essay. Honestly she’s surprised George lasted 45 minutes without saying anything, so she’s willing to humor him a bit while she works. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Angelina’s first game as captain. She’s a nervous wreck. But she’s been doing really good. It’s like Wood is still there.” George pauses, watching as Y/N scribbles a few things down. “You gonna be there?”

“Of course.” She looks up to wink at George. “Slytherin’s playing. I never miss a Slytherin game.”

George rolls his eyes playfully. “But you’re not just going to be there for Slytherin, right? You’re gonna be there to watch a super-hot Ginger whiz around the field hitting bludgers at everyone.”

Y/N shrugs. “I dunno. If you ask me Fred really isn’t that good of a Quidditch player.” When George pouts at her Y/N laughs and leans forward to kiss him. “I’m only joking, love. ‘Course I’ll be there cheering you on. Maybe not as loud as I’ll be cheering for Slytherin but cheering nonetheless.”

“Guess that’ll have to do,” George drawls, fake disappointment in his tone. George bites his lip, watching Y/N flip through her Potions book before she scribbles something down on her essay. “Can I ask you something?” When Y/N nods he continues. “Will you wear one of my extra Quidditch jumpers to the game?”

Y/N looks up at George then, putting her quill down. “And betray my house? George Weasley how dare you ask that of me!” she responds, feigning shock. “How about I wear your Gryffindor hat or scarf? That way you can spot me in the crowd of Slytherins and I’ll be warm.”

George frowns. “But I want you to wear my jumper. You can wear your own hat and scarf and my jumper will keep you warm.”

“It’s just that. I always wear one of Adrian’s quidditch jumpers. And Daphne wears one of Marcus’. It’s like, our thing. Has been since second year when they made the team,” Y/N explains. She reaches out to grab George’s hand, frowning when he pulls it away. “Georgie. Don’t be like this.”

George huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He knows that Adrian and Y/N are best friends, and even though she’d reassured him that her and Adrian never had romantic feelings for one and other, George can’t help but feel jealous when it comes to him. Obviously Y/N is his girlfriend and he knows that she loves him, but the mere mention of Adrian never fails to drive him up the wall.

“Just thought you’d want to wear you boyfriend’s Quidditch jumper,” he mumbles, settling back into his chair.

“It’s just a jumper, George. I don’t see what the big deal is.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and gets up, walking over to George. She straddles his waist and places her hands on his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to George’s mouth. She keeps pecking his lips until George melts and kisses her back eagerly, his hands settling on her hips. “If it really means that much to you, I’ll wear it.”

“Promise?” George asks, unable to keep from smiling.

“Promise. But I’m wearing my Slytherin hat and scarf. Can’t let people think I’ve gone completely soft for you.” Y/N looks back at her homework, before looking at George again. “Ah screw it. I’ll just finish that tomorrow. Take me to the room of requirement?”

George’s eyes light up and he grips Y/N’s thighs as he stands up. “No need to ask me twice.”

“You can’t even have one meal apart from him without making love eyes at each other across the hall. It’s disgusting,” Daphne teases, pretending to gag.

Y/N flips her off, not bothering to break eye contact with George. Ever since they started dating Y/N and George have eaten every meal together, taking turns at which house table they sit at. But since it’s the night before the first Quidditch match George had opted to sit at the Gryffindor table without Y/N, so that Angelina could go over a few last-minute things with the team. He’s supposed to be listening to whatever Angelina is saying, but with how focused he is on her, Y/N knows whatever she’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. Adrian and Marcus join them then, and Y/N finally breaks eye contact with George, since Adrian sits right in their line of sight.

“You guys ready for tomorrow?” Daphne asks as they start to pile food on their plates. Snape had given the whole Slytherin Quidditch team permission to skip their afternoon lessons so they could get one last practice in on the field before tomorrow’s game. And both boys look exhausted, but also excited.

Marcus nods happily, “Oh yeah, Gryffindor is going down, no doubt about it.” He turns to grin at Y/N. “No offense to you or your boy toy, of course.”

Y/N flips Marcus off. “He’s not my boy toy, he’s my boyfriend, there’s a difference, moron. And there’s no need to be jealous, Marcus. I know it’s hard to watch me and George be together and I’m sure someday Daph will want to kiss you when she’s sober.”

Adrian laughs, prompting Marcus to hit him in the back of the head. “Don’t get feisty with me because Y/N is right. Oh, that reminds me.” Adrian reaches into his bag and pulls out one of his Quidditch jumpers. “Here, for tomorrow. I probably won’t see you before the game.”

“Oh, um. I don’t need it.” All three of her friends give Y/N a look and she puts down her fork. “I’m gonna wear George’s jumper tomorrow.”

Daphne frowns. “But you always wear Adrian’s. And I wear Marcus’. It’s a tradition, Y/N.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “It’s just a sweater, Daph. You’re acting like I’m stabbing him in the back or something.”

Adrian huffs and puts the sweater back in his bag. “If it’s just a damn sweater then why are you wearing Weasley’s? Didn’t know you stopped making decisions for yourself when he started shagging you.”

Y/N whips her roll at Adrian’s head. “You’re lucky there’s a table in between us Adrian or I’d break your fucking arm. Why are you being such a dick? George is my boyfriend and he asked me to wear his jumper. It doesn’t mean anything to me, but it does to him, and I love him so I’m going to wear it.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Adrian apologizes. “It just annoys me that things are changing. It used to be just us four. Now it’s always us four and George.”

Y/N sighs. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. They’ve operated as a foursome ever since the first train ride to Hogwarts, when they were all just scared 11-year olds. Throwing George into the mix has changed their dynamic and she’s sure it’s been hard on all of them to adjust. “I’m sorry. It’s not like I planned on getting a boyfriend, it just kinda happened. I’ll wear your jumper to every other Slytherin game, okay?”

“Guess it’ll do,” Adrian settles, taking a bite out of the roll Y/N threw.

“Woo! Let’s go George! That’s my boy!” Y/N shouts, causing the Slytherins around her to all glare. Harry has just caught the snitch meaning of course, Gryffindor has won. Y/N turns to Daphne who’s pouting next to her and shapes her fingers in the form of an L. “Sorry, Slyther-losers. Good luck winning the Quidditch cup now!”

Daphne rolls her eyes and scoffs. “You’re a Slytherin too, you realize that, right?”

“Not today!” Y/N pulls her Slytherin knit cap off her head and shoves it into her jacket pocket as she unzips it to show off the red and gold jumper she’s wearing. “I’m a Gryffindor today, baby! Now come on let’s go, you can go make sure Marcus doesn’t drown himself in the showers and I can give George the congratulatory blow job I promised.”

“Ew! Way too much information, Y/N,” Daphne grimaces.

Y/N laughs as they start to head down to the pitch, unable to keep the smile off of her face. George looks hot just sitting there doing nothing, so seeing him whiz around the field hitting bludgers has left Y/N feeling dizzy with a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. He was gripping his bat so hard his knuckles were turning white, and the veins on his hand were visible from her seat in the stands. He looked so powerful up there on his broom, and it’s a sight Y/N never wants to forget.

When Y/N and Daphne finally reach the ground she’s about to breakaway to sneak into the Gryffindor changing room, when Daphne grabs her arm. “What?”

“Look!” Daphne insists, directing Y/N’s attention towards the outskirts of the pitch.

Y/N swallows the lump that has appeared in the back of her throat. Angelina, Katie and Alicia are holding onto Fred, who’s desperately fighting against them, a dark look on his face. George has an identical look on his face, and he’s trying to throw Harry off of him. Draco is standing in front of them, and while Y/N can’t hear what he’s saying, she knows it’s nothing nice. “That can’t be good.” Her and Daphne rush over, just as Marcus and Adrian start to approach.

“Get back up to the castle,” Marcus directs not even bothering to look at them.

Daphne hesitates, but Y/N grabs Adrian’s arm. “What are you guys doing?”

“We’re gonna back up Malfoy, obviously. You heard Marcus, get out of here.” Adrian tries to shake Y/N off, but she tightens her grip on him. “I’m serious, Y/N. Go back to the castle. Whatever is about to happen is not going to be pretty.”

Y/N looks over at George. Harry now looks just as angry and is struggling to hold onto George’s Quidditch robes. They’re close enough now that Y/N can hear the tone of Draco’s voice, and it’s dripping with cockiness. George’s fists are clenched at his sides, like he’s preparing to knock Draco’s lights out. She’s never seen George like this, and while it turns her on to no end, it also scares the shit out of her. She lets go of Adrian’s arm and starts heading towards George to try and stop whatever this is that’s about to go down.

It’s Adrian’s turn to stop Y/N, and he wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re about to put yourself in the middle of a blood bath.”

“Let me go, Adrian! As much as I would love to watch George beat the shit out of Draco this is not the time or the place.” She tries to break free from Adrian’s grip just as George finally looks away from Draco. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, but Y/N doesn’t miss the pure rage in them. George’s eyes drop to where Adrian is gripping her and before anyone can do anything George is lunging at Draco, punching him straight in the jaw.

“What did I tell you?” Adrian growls as he starts to pull Y/N back towards the castle.

Y/N lets Adrian drag her away as watches in horror at the scene unfolding in front of her. Harry has joined in the fight as well, and he and George are on the ground on top of Draco. Fists are flying everywhere and every time one connects with a body Y/N’s stomach lurches. After what seems like an eternity Madam Hooch and several professors are descending on the scene and their view is completely cut off.

Y/N takes the stairs up to Gryffindor tower two at a time, desperately in need of seeing George. It’s been a few hours since the debacle that went down on the Quidditch pitch and Draco has just finished bragging about the event after getting back from the Hospital Wing. What Y/N had wanted to do was grab Draco and hang him in the dungeons from his ankle, but instead she stormed out of the common room in search of George. His punishment is severe, and all she wants to do his hug him close.

“Oh thank god,” Y/N greets Ginny as she reaches the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She really hadn’t thought about how she was going to get in until she was already halfway up the staircase. Y/N had planned on just standing around until a Gryffindor showed up, so she’s truly thankful that Ginny is already there.

Ginny smiles at Y/N and pushes the Fat Lady Portrait open. “When George got back I figured it would only be a matter of time before you came to find him. He’s up in his dorm”

When Y/N steps into the common room it’s dead quiet. Gryffindor’s parties are notorious around school, and Y/N knows that if the match had ended differently there would be a rager going on right now. Fred is starting daggers at Y/N, and she can feel her face heating up as she heads up towards George’s dorm. Fred is still not the biggest fan of her relationship with George, but he’s usually less obvious about his feelings towards Y/N.

Y/N takes a deep breath as she reaches the seventh-year dorm and she knocks quietly. “George? Georgie? It’s me. Can I come in? ”When George doesn’t say anything, she frowns and pushes the door open anyway. “Georgie,” she coos as she enters, shutting the door behind her tightly. George is sitting on the edge of his bed shirtless, facing away from her. His shoulders are tense, and it makes Y/N’s chest ache.

“How did you get in here?” he asks firmly, not bothering to look at her.

Y/N bites her lip and starts to tentatively walk towards him. “Ginny let me in, she was waiting for me, actually.” She stops when she’s a few steps away from him. “Are you okay?” she asks softly.

George huffs. “What do you think?” His tone is sharp, and Y/N can feel tears welling up in her eyes. She figured he would be upset, but she has no idea why he’s upset with her.

“I can’t believe that toad banned you guys from Quidditch. Actually I can believe it, she’s fucking awful.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N starts to play with her fingers. “Will you talk to me George, please?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Y/N. Just go hug Adrian or whatever it is you do when I’m not around.”

Y/N frowns and goes to kneel behind George on the bed. She reaches out slowly and places her hand on his shoulder. “Georgie what are you talking about? You’re the only one I wanna be with. Every second of every day. You know that.”

“Do I?” George asks as he stands up and turns to face her. “Because you two looked pretty cozy today down on the pitch.”

Y/N lets her eyes drag over George’s face. His eyes are dark and narrow, reminiscent of the way he was looking at Draco earlier. His lip is busted open and he’s got a pretty daunting black eye, but he still looks like George. “We weren’t hugging down there, George. Is that what you thought that was?”

“That’s what it looked like, Y/N. His arms around your waist like that. Only I’m allowed to touch you like that,” George growls, his fists clenching. “If you hadn’t been standing in front of him I would have broken his jaw, not Malfoy’s.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot, George,” Y/N spits, suddenly feeling angry. Although she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t turned on a little as well. Seeing George so angry and possessive has ignited a pit of arousal in her stomach. “He wasn’t hugging me. He was keeping me from throwing myself at you to keep you from hitting Draco. You know if it wasn’t for Adrian you could have hurt me, George.”

“I’ll be sure to go thank him then,” George sneers. “God, Y/N how can you be so daft. He’s clearly in love with you. I’m sure he was just looking for some excuse to touch you.”

“You can’t be serious George. We’ve talked about this. Adrian and I have never and will never have feelings for each other.” Y/N gets off the bed and comes around so she’s standing in front of George. “And you know what even if Adrian does have feelings for me I don’t return them. I’m in love with you, you big fat fucking moron. So quit it with this jealousy crap, George.”

George suddenly grabs Y/N’s hips and pulls her into his chest harshly before leaning down and kissing her hard. “I’m not jealous,” he insists as he pushes her back onto his bed. “But you’re mine, Y/N. And I’m gonna make sure every person in this school knows that. Especially that prick Adrian.”

“God, George. You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” Y/N sits up and wraps her hand around George’s necking, pulling him in to a desperate kiss. She lays back against the bed as George forces his tongue into her mouth, pulling him on top of her.

George starts to bite and suck on Y/N’s neck, feeling the need to mark her up as much as possible. He wants there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind who Y/N belongs to when he’s done with her. He nibbles along the underside of her jaw, leaving small purple bruises in his wake. “You look so fucking hot in my jumper, Y/N. Such a shame I’m gonna have to take it off.”

George’s hands have started to run up under the jumper, his cold hands shocking her warm skin. “Then don’t,” she gasps as George bites the crook of her neck harshly. “Leave it on while you fuck me, please. It smells like you, Georgie.” Y/N moans and tangles her hands in his hair as George starts to cup her bare breasts, his calloused thumbs rubbing harshly at her nipples.

“That desperate for me already, darling? So needy for me that you wanna be able to smell me while I ruin your pretty pussy with my cock?” George pinches Y/N’s nipples hard, smirking as her back arches up off of the bed.

“Please, George,” Y/N moans, tugging on his hair. “Just wanna be your good girl.”

Y/N’s words send a shiver down George’s spine and he kisses her briefly. “You sure you wanna be my good girl? ‘Cause the way you’ve been talking makes it seem like you wanna be a bad girl.”

“Yes, George. Always wanna be your good girl, wanna be so good for you.”

George pulls away from Y/N completely and sits up, starting to fumble with the button of his trousers. “If you wanna be my good girl so bad, then you’re gonna use that pretty little mouth to show me just how good you can be.”

Y/N sits up and bats George’s hands away, undoing his trousers and shoving them down to his thighs along with his boxers. She practically drools as his hard cock pops out, and Y/N immediately wraps one of her hands around it and starts to stroke him lightly, while her other hand pulls George down into a searing kiss.

George grabs Y/N’s face in his hands as he lays back onto the bed to keep their lips connected as she settles in between his thighs. He groans as Y/N’s thumb starts to swipe over the tip of his cock and he pulls away from her mouth, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as he does. He watches it snap back into place, a little redder and plumper before and he starts to shove her head downwards. “Go on then, Y/N. Wrap those pretty lips around me so I can fuck your throat.”

Y/N immediately settles on her knees between George’s thighs, gripping the base of his cock tightly as she takes him into her mouth. She loves it when George is rough with her and tells her what to do. Seeing him jealous and angry turns her on to no end, and she can already feel her wetness coating her thighs. Y/N takes him down as far as she can, moaning when he gathers her hair in a ponytail and gives it a sharp tug. His hips jut up, shoving his cock farther down into her throat, and Y/N braces one of her hands on George’s hip while the other fists his bed sheets.

“Oh fucking hell,” George moans as Y/N looks up at him from under her eyelashes. “Look so fucking pretty like that, darling, with your mouth wrapped around my cock. You love sucking my cock, don’t you Y/N?” She hums around him, and George’s hips surge upwards, burying the rest of his cock between her lips. Y/N gags as he hits the back of her throat and George uses his grip on her hair to keep her there for a moment before he pulls her off slightly.

Y/N lets her tongue run up against the underside of George’s cock as he starts to thrust into her mouth and as his hand guides her head. George shoves the tip of his cock into the back of her throat with each thrust, and Y/N can feel tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes with each gag. She makes sure to pay attention to the tip of his cock every time he pulls her back, letting her tongue flick at it and collect the precum that’s started to bubble up at the top.

George picks up the speed of his hips, groaning as drool starts to dribble down Y/N’s chin. “Always suck me so well, Y/N. Such a good girl for me.” George let’s his cock hit the back of Y/N’s throat one more time, before he pulls her off completely. He wipes some of the drool off of her chin with his thumb and cleans it off on his pant leg. “Thank you, baby for getting my cock nice and wet, perfect for me to fuck you with. Go on then, get on your hands and knees.”

Y/N gets into position as George gets off of the bed to take his bottoms fully off. She feels George push the bottom of his jumper up, so it bunches around her hips and she moans as his large hands grab her ass. The bed shifts as he settles in behind her, his hands tugging at the fabric of her leggings.

“George!” she gasps as his hands tear a whole in her bottoms, suddenly exposing her bare core to the cold air of the room.

“No panties?” George asks as he shoves two fingers into her wet heat. Y/N moans as her walls clench around his digits and George starts to slowly fuck her with them. “Such a dirty fucking whore you are, Y/N. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to use you like a little fuck toy, like you’re just a warm wet hole for me to bury my cock in. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” Y/N begs as George’s fingers curl and finally brush up against her g-spot. George has never been this lewd with her, and she can still hear the anger in his voice. “Please, Georgie,” she whines, pushing back against his hand.

George smacks Y/N’s ass hard with his free hand, revealing in the moan that leaves her lips. “Answer me, Y/N. If you wanna cum tonight you’ll be a good girl and use your words. You’re just a warm wet hole for me to fuck and ruin, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, George, yes,” Y/N pants as his thumb starts to rub her clit.

George bites his lip as Y/N’s thighs and arms start to shake, and he smacks her ass again. “And you love being my dirty little fuck toy, don’t you?”

Y/N moans as George curls his fingers again, nodding wildly. “Love it so much Georgie, please. Wanna be your good girl, wanna make you feel good.”

In one fluid motion, George removes his fingers from Y/N’s core, grabs her hips and slams his cock into her, his hips moving until he’s buried completely inside of her. “Always so fucking tight for me darling,” George groans as he starts to move his hips. He sets a relentless pace, fucking into Y/N hard and fast. “I want to hear every little noise that comes out of you as I fuck you, understand? Want this whole fucking school to know just how good I make you feel.”

“So fucking big George, holy fuck,” Y/N moans. “Always fuck me so good, Georgie. No one can ever make me feel as good as you do, love your cock so much.” Unable to hold herself up from the pleasure coursing through her veins, Y/N falls forward onto her forearms, arching her back for George. The new positions allows him to slip even deeper inside of her, and she clenches her walls around George as she whines. “Right there, oh fuck. Harder George please. I need you,” she begs.

George tightens his grip on Y/N’s hips and slams into her harder. Normally George prefers to take things slow, but he still has the image of Adrian’s arms around Y/N’s waist and he wants to fuck her so hard that he forgets it completely. “Such a dirty fucking whore, Y/N. Begging for me to ruin you.”

“George,” Y/N groans as his thumb starts rubbing harsh circles on her clit. The tip of his cock rubs her g-spot with every thrust and her hips start to push back against him as her orgasm starts to build. Her body feels like it’s on fire and she can’t help the noises that come out of her mouth with each of George’s thrusts. “Please, George. Been such a good girl. Can I? Can I come George, please?”

George grunts as Y/N clenches around him even tighter, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay. “I don’t know if you deserve it, darling. Fuck toys don’t get to cum, do they? And that’s all you are, isn’t it? Just a little fuck to for me to use for my pleasure?”

“Please, please, please,” Y/N babbles as tears start to stream down her cheeks. She’s teetering on the edge of her climax and all she needs is for George to allow her to feel it. Pleasure is moving like an electric shock through her body and she desperately wants to let go. “Georgie, please,” she begs, the desperation clear in her voice. “I’m all yours, only yours please. Only want you, George. Please, please, let me cum.”

“Fuck that’s right, Y/N. You’re mine,” George growls. “Forever. Understand that? No one’s ever going to touch you or kiss you or fuck you ever again. Just me, only me. Go on then, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

Y/N cries out George’s name as she cums, her whole body shaking as pleasure courses through her. She collapses against the bed as her chest heaves with heavy pants, her body feeling like it’s floating. George’s hips have started to stutter as his own orgasm approaches, and Y/N clenches around him to help bring him to his climax. “Fill me up George, please. Claim me, make me yours forever.”

“Fucking hell, baby.” George collapses against Y/N’s back as he cums, his orgasm rocketing through his body. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum this hard before, and his hips slowly roll as he twitches inside of Y/N. Once he’s finished releasing inside of her George slowly pulls out and collapses on the bed next to Y/N. Silent tears are still rolling down her cheeks and George immediately pulls her into his chest. “I went too far didn’t I? Fuck I’m so sorry Y/N.”

Y/N sniffles as George starts to stroke her hair and press soft kisses all over her face. “They’re good tears Georgie I promise. It was incredible, honestly, love.”

George wipes away a few of the tears before he pulls Y/N in for a passionate kiss. Their lips move together slowly, and George starts to gently rub her back. “I would never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you. I love you, Y/N, so much.”

“I love you too, Georgie. Forever, yeah?”

George pulls Y/N closer to his body and kisses the top of her forehead, praying that the anger he still feels in his chest goes away. “Forever.”

Despite the fact that George had promised her forever that night, Y/N can’t help but feel that they’re starting to drift apart. With their lifetime Quidditch ban in full effect, George and Fred have started to put even more time into their Weasley products and Y/N feels like she barely sees George anymore. He still walks her to class holding her hand tightly and he’s always sure to remind her that he loves her, but they no longer eat meals together and Y/N can’t remember the last time George begged her to skive off her homework to fool around in the room of requirement. But she’s happy that he’s found something to put his extra time into, so she doesn’t think too much is wrong until George misses their next Saturday morning meeting.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asks as Y/N slumps over to the Slytherin table. Most Saturdays Y/N’s friends don’t see her until lunch time, so they’re all surprised as she falls into her seat next to Adrian.

Y/N sighs and starts to put random food onto her plate, not really feeling like eating. “George never showed this morning. We were supposed to meet in the room of requirement and I just sat there for thirty minutes feeling like an idiot.”

“You mean your prince charming stood you up? Guess things aren’t as happy in the kingdom as they seem,” Marcus teases. Daphne smacks him upside the head, prompting him to frown. “I was just trying to make her smile Daph no need to try and take my head off.”

“You’re an idiot, Marcus,” Daphne scolds before turning her attention back to Y/N. “I thought something was up with you guys, but I didn’t want to say anything. I feel like I’ve barely seen you two together this past week. George is usually always hovering around you, I mean he practically worships the ground you walk on. You guys get into a fight or something?”

Y/N shrugs, picking at her muffin. “He was pretty pissed after what happened last weekend at the Quidditch match. When Adrian was trying to hold me back from going over there he thought we were hugging or something. I don’t know, he was really angry though. But I thought we uh, worked it out if you get what I mean. But clearly not.”

“What a git. He managed to score the hottest girl in school and yet he still managed to fuck it up,” Adrian murmurs, putting his arm around Y/N’s middle. “You deserve better than him, Y/N.”

Y/N rests her head against Adrian’s shoulder and sighs. “He’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Don’t look now,” Daphne whispers, leaning over the table. “He just walked in with Fred, act natural.”

Y/N ruffles Adrian’s hair as she sits up, trying to pretend that she can’t feel George’s eyes starting at the back of her head.

George slams his quill down on the table, running his hand through his hair. “Fucking bullshit. No matter how many times I calculate it the numbers just don’t match up.”

“Will you chill out? It’s not that big of a deal we can work on that shit later,” Fred urges, watching George carefully. “What’s got your panties in a twist lately? I’ve never seen you this worked up.”

It’s Saturday afternoon, and Fred and George are tucked away in a corner of the common room, working on stuff for their joke shop. George has been trying to work on an input output expense sheet, but all of the numbers keep blurring together and he can’t seem to figure out how to make them balance. It probably has something to do with the fact that things between him and Y/N aren’t quite right, but he doesn’t want to think about that.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” George says flatly, looking back over the sheet in front of him.

Fred sighs and leans back in his seat. “You’re a shit liar, you know that? And I do have eyes, you know. Something’s going on with you and Y/N and you’re clearly upset about it. And I’m not going to stop asking about it until you tell me so just spill it so we can get back to work.”

“I’ve just been so angry with her lately, like constantly. Every time I’m around her it just flares up in my chest and I have this urge to just, I dunno. Yell at her.” George pauses. “I mean did you see the way he was touching her today? I wanted to storm over there and rip him away.”

Fred knits his eyebrows together. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Adrian,” George clarifies, his voice dark. “He’s always touching her, and Y/N just lets him. Even though she knows how I feel about him. Did you know I had to beg her to wear my Quidditch jumper to the game last week? And do you know why? Because she always wears Adrian’s,” he mocks. “I’m her bloody boyfriend and I had to beg her not to wear another guys jumper, it’s ridiculous.”

Fred reaches out and puts a comforting hand on George’s shoulder. “You’re my brother and I care about you, please try and remember that as I say the next thing. You’re a fucking idiot, George. I know I’m not Y/N’s biggest fan, but it’s clear that she cares about you. The way that she looks at you George, even when you’re not paying attention it’s like you’re the only thing in the world she cares about. I don’t think she means any harm when she’s like that with Adrian and deep down you know that too. I mean they’ve always been like that. Remember when you guys got detention before you were together? He showed up to walk her back to the common room and he gave her a piggyback ride. It’s not like they’ve just started being close. I don’t think I ever saw her away from Adrian or any of her friends until you guys started dating. Whatever you’re feeling is all in your head.”

“It doesn’t feel all in my head. The way he looks at her, it’s not the way someone looks at a person who’s just a friend,” George insists.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Okay so say Adrian does have feeling for Y/N. He’s clearly very deep in the friend zone. We all heard you guys last weekend, screaming about how she’s yours forever or whatever. Nearly made me throw up in my mouth, mate.”

George punches Fred’s shoulder lightly. “Fuck off. Y/N said the same thing but-“

“See! There you go,” Fred interjects, cutting George off. “Y/N said it herself. She’s in love with you, not Adrian. So, stop being an idiot and go apologize to her before she realizes what a dolt you are and ends it for good.”

George does leave the common room then, fully intending to go and see Y/N. He still feels angry deep in his chest, but his need to be close to her overwhelms all of it. That is until he finds Y/N in the library, her head titled back in a laugh at something Adrian has said. The anger in George’s chest flares as she pushes him playfully, a wide smile on her face that’s usually reserved for George.

Y/N can tell something has gone wrong, when there’s no Weasley’s in attendance at breakfast on Monday morning. They had all been a dinner the night before, and one Weasley not being around is perfectly normal. Even two being absent is normal if it’s Fred and George. But all four of them is unheard of, especially when Harry never shows up for breakfast either. She tries to keep herself calm, thinking that maybe they’re just doing something for the DA or planning some revenge on Umbridge. But when lunch comes around and Y/N has yet to see George or Fred in class and there hasn’t been a single streak of red hair floating around the halls, Y/N makes a beeline for the Gryffindor table where Hermione is sitting alone.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s George and everyone else. I haven’t seen them since dinner last night,” Y/N asks as she takes a seat next to Hermione. When Hermione finally looks at Y/N there’s a worried expression on her features and it makes Y/N’s stomach drop.

“George didn’t owl you?” When Y/N shakes her head, Hermione leans forward to whisper in her ear. “I can’t say too much, Dumbledore’s orders. But something happened and Mr. Weasley was badly injured, he’s in St. Mungo’s. George and the rest of the Weasley’s along with Harry took a portkey home last night, Dumbledore gave them all permission to start winter break a few days early.”

Y/N frowns, a mixture of emotions flowing through her body. On one hand she’s worried about George’s dad and how he’s coping with everything. And on the other she’s hurt that George didn’t feel comfortable enough to reach out to her and tell her what’s going on. Y/N had hoped they could make things right before being a part for two weeks, but it seems that the wedge between them is only being pushed farther and farther apart.

“Is he going to be okay? Mr. Weasley? God George must be freaking out.”

Hermione shrugs. “I haven’t heard anything yet, Harry sent an owl when they got to their destination last night. They hadn’t heard much yet, but I’m sure he’s in good hands at St. Mungos. And I’m sure George will reach out soon, Y/N. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Y/N gives Hermione a small smile before she goes to join her friends, a pit of despair growing in her stomach.

“It’s Christmas eve, Y/N. You’ve been held up in your room sending letters all break, can’t you give it a rest for a few days? I’m sure Daphne or Adrian will understand if they don’t get any letters from you for a bit,” Y/N’s mother says, reaching over to grab the quill from her hand.

It’s been a week since George’s father was attacked, and Y/N has been sending him letters nearly nonstop without hearing anything in return. Her owl always comes back with an empty beak, so she knows he’s been getting the letters, and her heart hurts every time he doesn’t respond. She just wants to know if he’s okay, if there’s anything she can do for him. Y/N knows she’s been ignoring her parents a little too much, but she can’t think about anything except for George.

“I’m not writing to Daphne or Adrian,” Y/N huffs, finally looking up at her parents. They’re sitting at the table having lunch together, or at least her parents are. Y/N’s owl had turned up without a response from George just before food was ready, and Y/N wants to send another to him as soon as possible.

“Well then who have you been writing too?” her father asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you write this much in your entire life.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a pink blush appearing on her cheeks. “George Weasley,” she mumbles, looking away.

“George Weasley? Y/N whatever prank that boy pulled on you can be dealt with when you get back to school. There’s no need to be going on and on with him over break,” her mother tuts with a shake of her head.

Y/N’s parents have spent much of their time over the past few years listening to Y/N complain endlessly about both Weasley Twins, so it doesn’t surprise her that her mother thinks her letters to George are out of anger instead of love. Especially since she’s yet to tell them about their relationship.

“Actually, George is my, um. He’s my boyfriend,” Y/N mutters, sheepishly looking back at her parents. They both look shocked and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t look so surprised, I’m a great catch, of course I have a boyfriend.”

Y/N’s father laughs. “Sweetie we’re not shocked that you have a boyfriend, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world of course. But I’m going to be honest, George Weasley is the last person I thought you’d end up with. Last we heard you hated the very sight of him.”

“Well not anymore. I love him, so much. He’s been going through some stuff recently and I just want to make sure he’s okay,” Y/N explains. She makes sure to leave out the part that she thinks he’s going to break up with her when they get back to school, since she’d much rather ignore that for now. “Can I just finish this one letter, please? And then I won’t send another until boxing day, I promise.”

Her mother sighs and reluctantly hands her back the quill. “Fine, just one more letter. But seriously no more until boxing day. Not only is it the holidays but your poor owl needs a few days to rest.”

“You should write her back you know,” Ginny comments as she sits down next to George.

George hums, gripping Y/N’s most recent letter in his hands. His chest aches at how sad she sounds, but he can’t bring himself to pick up a quill and write her back. “I don’t know what to say.”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “How about I’m a big fat idiot and the second I see you again I’m going to fall to my knees and beg for your forgiveness? That’s probably a good place to start.”

“Dunno why I have to be the one to apologize,” he mutters, wincing when Ginny smacks him upside the head. “What the hell was that for, Gin?”

“For you continuing to be a big fat idiot,” Ginny spits. “You’ve been acting like a huge asshole to her lately George that’s why you need to apologize. It only takes a person with half a brain to see how you’ve been pushing her away. So cut the crap. Either apologize to Y/N and beg for her forgiveness or break it off.”

The thought of breaking up with Y/N makes his stomach lurch. There’s no doubt in his mind that he wants to be with her, but it feels like he doesn’t know how to anymore. It seems that whenever Y/N is around Adrian is right there too, and it makes anger flare up in his chest. He knows it’s not rational, but it doesn’t make it any easier to stop feeling that way. George wants Y/N all to himself, as selfish as that may be.

“She’s probably gonna break up with me, so I don’t see the point.” George tosses the letter in his hands onto the coffee table and leans back against the couch. “Who knew being in a relationship would be so difficult?”

“It wouldn’t be so difficult if you just talked to her, git,” Ginny points out. “She’s written you a letter practically every day of break, obviously she cares about you and is worried about you.” Ginny pauses so George will look over at her. “What’s wrong anyway? Thought you guys were doing okay?”

George shrugs. “I can’t stand Adrian and his smug fucking face. He’s just there. Always. Watching her, trying to get close with her. And Y/N just sits there and lets him. You know I caught them together in the library a few nights before Dad was attacked.”

Ginny’s jaw drops. “You caught them hooking up?”

“What? No. They were doing homework,” George explains.

Ginny punches George in the thigh as hard as she can. “You’re a fucking moron, George. Since when is doing homework in the library someone cheating? Or a reason to get mad?”

“It wasn’t just the fact that they were doing homework. They were sitting next to each other and he was making her laugh,” George huffs, as if Ginny is the one being unreasonable.

“You’re joking, right?” When George doesn’t say anything, Ginny rolls her eyes. “Since when are you this insecure, George? Y/N is crazy about you. And Adrian is her friend, of course he’s gonna be around.” She bites her lip. “I think you’ve been putting too much thought into this George.”

George sits there for a moment, letting Ginny’s words sink in. Perhaps he has been getting a bit ahead of himself. Something about seeing Y/N with Adrian when he was so worked up over what Draco had been saying must have twisted something in his mind. He had felt jealous about Adrian before that, but never in a way that made him question his relationship with Y/N. Usually all it takes is one look from Y/N and all of his ill thoughts flush away. But lately it seems nothing can calm him down. He’s been putting distance between them in the hopes that his anger would finally go away, but as soon as it feels like he’s back to normal the second Y/N is in his vicinity with Adrian it all comes rushing back.

“I think I have been too,” he admits quietly. “It doesn’t feel real, sometimes. That Y/N is actually mine. I thought I only started developing feelings for her this year, but I think I’ve felt things for her for a while, I was just too stubborn to realize it. And now that I have her I want her all to myself. Like if I share her with other people she might just disappear from my life completely.”

Ginny reaches out to pat George on the shoulder. “Then tell her all of that, George. Because it’s actually kind of sweet in a weird way. Y/N loves you, George. And I know you love her. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt because you don’t have the balls to just talk to your girlfriend.”

“What a pep talk you give, Gin,” George chuckles. “But you’re right. I’m gonna talk to her, first chance I get. This is too much to put into a letter. I wanna be able to look at her while I talk to her.”

“Great. Now will you stop being so miserable? It’s really killing the Christmas spirit,” Ginny teases, ruffling his hair.

“Are things with George getting any better?” Daphne asks from her spot on Y/N’s bed. Her parents had decided to do some traveling in the new year, and Y/N’s parents allowed Daphne to finish up the last few days of break at their house.

Y/N shakes her head, flopping down next to her. “Nope. I haven’t heard a thing all break. Every time Aries comes back his beak is empty. So, he’s clearly reading my letters and he can’t be bothered to write back.”

Daphne puts her arm around Y/N and tosses the copy of Witch Weekly she’d been reading off of the bed. “What a fucking prick. I haven’t said much about it because I love you and you’re my best friend and I know he means a lot to you, but Adrian was right. You do deserve better, Y/N. Your boyfriend should be worshiping you, not ignoring you.”

Y/N hadn’t told anyone about George’s dad, and she’s sure he’d get a bit more sympathy from Daphne if she knew, but if Hermione couldn’t even tell her how his Dad got hurt Y/N is sure she shouldn’t tell anyone about it at all. And besides, Hermione had owled the day after Christmas to let her know that Mr. Weasley was home and recovering well. George’s lack of communication cut Y/N deeper after hearing that.

“I think he’s going to break up with me,” Y/N admits out loud for the first time, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I love him so much and I thought he loved me too, but I don’t know. It’s like overnight things changed between us and I’m the only one trying to fix it.”

Daphne pulls Y/N in tight and hugs her. “This is the second time you’ve cried over George being an asshat and my offer still stands. I will have Adrian and Marcus beat him up.”

“The last time I cried over George he was only being an asshat in my head. But now, I’m sure he’s being an asshat in real life too,” Y/N sniffles. “God I wish break lasted just a little bit longer. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I see him on that stupid train tomorrow.”

Daphne starts to stroke Y/N’s hair and wipes away a few of her tears. “Well just say the word and I’ll have Adrian and Marcus on him before he can even say Quidditch.”

When Y/N and Daphne get on platform 9 ¾ the next morning George’s shock of red hair is the first thing she sees. She forces herself to stay focused on her parents as they say goodbye, no matter how badly she wants to look over at him. Her heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest, and all she really wants to do is sneak onto the train and to her friends without running into any Weasley. But of course, the second she’s on the train she walks smack into a hard, familiar chest.

“Trying to mow me down?” George teases, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist.

It reminds Y/N of when they were still dancing around each other, too scared to admit their feelings, and it punches a hole in her chest. “Hi, George.” Y/N pushes away from him and starts to walk away, but George’s hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her back towards him. “What?” she asks flatly, looking up at him. Her eyes catch something shiny stuck to the scarf he’s wearing, and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling. “You got your Christmas present I see.”

She had wanted to get him something big and flashy for their first Christmas together. But everything she considered just didn’t seem special or sentimental enough. She had found it in some muggle store in London while shopping with her Mum, and even though it was tiny and simple, it was the perfect thing. It’s a little enamel pin in the shape of a teapot. The hours she spent with George scrubbing teapots is the foundation of their relationship, it was after that night that she first started falling in love with him.

George bites his lip and reaches out to cup her cheek. “I was an asshole to you. And you have every right to be super mad at me. But can we go talk somewhere, please?”

Y/N nods and lets George grab her hand and take her over to an empty compartment. It’s clear to her that she and George have some issues they need to work out, but she’s happy to just enjoy some time with him for now. They haven’t been alone together in nearly three weeks, and she’s been dying for his attention. She takes a seat as George closes the door behind them and pulls him down next to her once he’s close enough.

“I have a lot of things to say and I don’t know if they’re going to come out right so please just stick with me while I try and say them, okay?” George takes a deep breath and reaches out to grab Y/N’s hands in his. “I’ve missed you so much these past few weeks, even before break. I think Draco knocked something loose in my head when he punched me, I’ve just been so angry since that day, and I don’t really know why. Just seeing you and Adrian together fills me with rage. And I know it shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t know what I would do without you. I just kept getting in my head about everything and it made me not treat you the best. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Then why push me away, George? Why not answer one of my stupid letters? I’ve been losing my mind here, trying to figure out what’s going on in that head of yours. I meant what I said that night, I’m yours forever, Weasley.”

George sighs and leans down to press a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I started over analyzing everything and I couldn’t tell what was real and what was going on in my head. You mean so much to me, and the thought of losing you made me go even crazier.” George pauses so he can tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I should have written to you and at least let you know I was okay, I’m sorry for that. But this is a conversation I didn’t want to have in a letter. I wanted to be able to see you and hold you.”

“It’s okay, George. I guess when we started dating there was some stuff we should have talked about that we kind of just ignored and that’s partially my fault. I just tried to integrate you into my life that already existed, when in reality we should have started something new together,” Y/N explains, squeezing his hands. “Adrian and I are closer than normal friends, and I can see why that would concern you. Same thing with the sweater. Of course, you’d want me to wear yours, I shouldn’t have even questioned it. I’m sorry, George. I’ll try and do better too, okay? Because I love you and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I love you so, so much. And I’ve been really shit at showing it. I meant what I said that night too, Y/N. Forever.” George leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips, melting when she returns it. “I don’t deserve you.” George kisses her again, winding his arms around her. “Alright, I think now is the perfect time to give you your Christmas present.”

Y/N holds her hands out, bouncing up and down excitedly. “Come on then, let’s see what you got me!”

George rolls his eyes playfully and takes a long black box out of his jacket pocket. “I do want to preface this by saying that I bought this ages ago before I got your present in the mail, and they do say great minds think alike.”

“You got me a tea pot pin too?” she teases, taking the box from George. A quiet gasp leaves her lips as she opens the box, and she gives George a small smile. “George it’s perfect.” Inside the box is a delicate silver chain with two charms attached. One is in the shape of the letter G and the other is a teapot. “Although I find it quite funny that we both got each other teapot related items.”

“Well that’s the night it all began, isn’t it?” George ask as he takes the box from Y/N. He grabs the necklace and motions for her to turn around so he can put it on her. “After that detention I knew I couldn’t live without you, Y/N. Listening to you talk about wanting to be a healer, and how you wanted to change the world, it made me see you differently. Made me start to fall in love with you. Besides I don’t think I could find a charm of a secret passageway.”

Y/N giggles, and as soon as the necklace is on Y/N turns around and pulls George into a kiss, her hand coming up to grip the charms tightly. When George starts to pull away Y/N surges forward to keep their lips pressed together for a few extra moments. “I love you, George. Thank you.”

“Course, darling. Anything for you.” George pulls Y/N into his chest and presses a kiss to the top of her head, the anger he’s felt for so long finally quieting down.

#George weasley #George Weasley imagine #George weasley smut #gw #golden

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