#ANYWAYS hi . freddie self indulgence no one look at me

[cupiidzbow]

(twirling a strand of hair around my finger) there’s this guy i know and he likes me soooo much 😚💞

[l0vem41l]

star stickers and best efforts.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, hurt/comfort but 100% not at all, reader is mildly mean when nervous LIKE A BAD DOG /ref and most definitely written self-indulgently by accident, sun is mildly condescending, they r each others best supporters, mentions of a customer being rude but rly nothing crazy, sun uh... he's an interesting fella, BIGGG dialogue chunks im sorry im sorry 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. the daycare attendant/sun/sundrop

author's note: my wip title was literally just "the one where you're yelled at" :p but... hiiii!!! obligatory return to fnaf real quick becuz,,, no, i still havent gotten into the ruin dlc but YES i do love sun's personality in help wanted 2..... if this is ooc u can erm. shove me into wet concrete. (。﹏。) aaannywayz!! missed this!!! missed this so much!!!! ( ╯□╰ ) sorry for not valentine's day posting,,, scandalous ik since im lit rally Called Valentine. but oh well. enjoy! or dont. if you dont im sorry please request fnaf stuff so i can Fix That /srs

if you weren't relying on this job to put food on your table and a roof on your head, you’d burn the freddy fazbear’s mega pizzaplex to the ground for a piece of pocket lint and a pat on the head.

maybe it’s a bit dramatic to say that— you're paid well, you like your mostly robot coworkers, and most of the time (emphasis on most and not always) the work is manageable enough.

the customers are another story.

sun notices the minute you walk in the daycare. you look like you're a minor inconvenience away from murder— which naturally, makes him feel inclined to prod a little.

“well, someone’s awfully sulky today!”

while you’d typically crack a smile at the upbeat jester animatronic, his enthusiasm in the face of your misery is grating. there’s no energy left in your body to banter with him— you were using most of it to drag your feet over to the shoe caddy, toolbox in hand to fix up its shelf, now hanging askew due to a busted bracket.

“can it, sunny, i don't wanna hear it.” you mutter, more venomous than you intend it to be. he doesn’t even blink at your grumpiness. instead, he happily holds up the shelf while you inspect it and grab a new bracket to secure it.

at least he’s trying to make himself useful. you think to yourself.

his faceplate tilts slightly, staring at you with that ever present grin. his staring isn’t really helping, but you don’t fault him for it. you’ve gotten used to his antics by now. “woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” sun questions.

you shake your head.

“got yelled at by a customer— now, if you could please just drop the topic—” you sigh exasperatedly, not even bothering to finish the sentence as you sit down cross legged in front of the shoe caddy, slumping slightly in defeat.

much too persistent for his own good, sun decides that inquiring even further about the incident that seems to have you beat down is a good idea. “what’d you do?”

you consider feigning offense as he insinuates it’s somehow your fault. but you don’t. you just shrug it off.

“my job.” 

“ah, they do hate it when you do that.” he tuts.

“it wasn’t even that big of a deal,” you mutter, getting the bracket in place and marking it, “this one kid just so happened to walk up to the arcade machine i was putting an out of order sign on. i felt bad, so like, obviously, i hand the kid a few tokens, apologize politely, explain— and you’d think it’s all good right?”

you pause mid-ramble as you fix up the shelf. in all your misery, you forgot that you don’t even know exactly what caused the shelf to collapse like this. you consider asking.

sun leans in just a bit too close, interrupting your train of thought as you stare at the shelf. when you glance at him, he gives you a little nod.

go on, he seems to say wordlessly. he’s waiting silently for you to continue your story. it’s never not unnerving when he’s quiet.

“...anyways, uh... the kid’s dad came by and got mad or something. didn’t understand why i couldn’t just let him play one game since it looked perfectly functional— keep in mind, this is the arcade machine that literally kept eating up tokens only to not function, and shocked kids when it did— so i kept trying to explain why i couldn’t exactly do that. but for some reason, it was such a big fucking deal—”

“language.” he chides.

“...fricking deal. of course, i had to be berated for it. i offered to grab them more faz-tokens as compensation and i thought the problem was solved... and then i checked and saw he still left a bad review. definitely gonna hear about that from management.” sun hands you a tool as you continue to speak.

“but now i’m upset, i’m definitely in trouble, and my face hurts from the whole customer service smile i was holding that entire conversation. like seriously, i don’t know how i’m expected to do that 24/7.” you stop at your last remark and stare at sun and his unchanging expression. “...my bad.”

the awkward silence only lasts for a moment, thankfully. you’ve spoken your piece— sun decides to speak his.

“you did your best.” he says simply, as you finally fix the shelf into place. he pats you on the head and doesn't even hide his amusement when you sulk.

“i know that tone, sunny, you're making fun of me—”

“poor thing.” he continues, grinning brightly as he makes a show of patronizing you. sun’s hand continues to pat the top of your head gently, like he would when consoling a child. or when greeting a dog. has he,,, ever seen a dog before? probably not.

you groan and manage to shove his arm away.

“i do mean it though,” he continues, his tone still lighthearted— but notably more earnest as he notes your expression. sun helps you put your tools away neatly back into the toolbox, even though it really is just a one-man job.

“you tried your best,” sun closes the toolbox with a flourish and a click, “...and for that—!”

with a dramatic flick of his wrist, bells jingling as he does, sun produces a gold star sticker from… somewhere. he holds it up for you to see.

and then gently presses it onto the tip of your nose.

“to my favoritest human employee here! and my bestest of friends!” it’s hard to bite back a smile at those words. even if his little show of empathy and affection is much too theatrical for your current mood.

“whatever.” you shrug a little, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from twitching into a little grin. standing up and grabbing the toolbox, you give him an awkward thumbs up.

“thanks. and uh… sorry. for being mean. i guess.”

sun shakes his head dismissively, bouncy and bright as ever. “oh, don't mention it!”

something about his seeming lack of offense towards your prickliness makes you feel even more guilty. still, he gives you a wave as you head out, “bye-bye”-ing happily as you walk away, sticker stuck to your nose and smile on your face like an idiot.

you decide you’ll find a way to make it up to him later. you figure he deserves that much for putting up with everything.

meanwhile, sun is taking mental notes on more stuff to break of whenever you’ve been away for too long. just in case, of course. maybe you’d have more interesting customer encounters to rant about. and hey, you could use the company, couldn’t you?

— reblogs always appreciated!

[slashingdisneypasta]

How would your horror/slasher faves take care of you when you're sick? 🥺 (I know you've done a cheering up hcs before but maybe this is a lil different ^^)

Get well soon!! Take care of yourself <333

THIS IS SO SWEET! Thank you! ^^ <3<3<3 I hope you're doing better too with your life stuff or at least you will be very soon ^^

I took this opportunity to be super super self indulgent! XD 😅

Horror Villains x Reader || Headcanons +Imagines at the Bottom

Topic: Taking care of you when you're sick ^^

Includes (For HC's): Jim Bickerman and Otis B. Driftwood. Included (For Imagines): Bo Sinclair, Chucky Lee Ray, Drayton Sawyer, Freddy Krueger and Jeffrey Hawk/The Clown. (They aren't in this order, sorry 😅)

Warnings: Otis fucking Driftwood (Meaning nasty smut hc's and a liiitle dub con)

Jim Bickerman:

If you get really clingy when you're sick like me (Opposite to me when I'm healthy 😅😅) he is absolutely on board with that XD Honestly he loves having you sticking close to him, going to him for warmth, laughing a little too easy at dumb jokes, listening intently to whatever he's saying... he eats it up. You're like an adorable little puppy dog, hangin' onto him. He'll almost be disappointed when you get better and don't act like that anymore 😅😅😅

"... Do you need help gettin' changed? I'm happy to help y'out pumpkin, really! Ul-ulterior motive?? No... "

Usually he's a frozen meal kinda man; he's probably got a freezer just packed full of pizza's and little microwave meals, and the most gourmet thing he 'cooks' regularly is campfire sausages in the backyard- but he knows how to make chicken soup and mash some potato's and that's his first duty when you wake up sick as a dog.

You get to wear one of his flannels when you're sick (:(:(: Its big and thick and probably smells like spilled alcohol.

He's probably gonna get himself sick too because he can not stay away from you. He'll be sat next to you most of the time- watching tv with you and entertaining you, eating soup with you, having tea with you, napping with you- basically, this is not your sickness. This is both of y'alls sickness 😅😅😅

"Here, this'll help. Promise ya."

"... That is a bottle of bourbon."

"Exactly." *Shakes it in your face*

Otis B Driftwood (NSFW mostly)

You think a little bit of snot is gonna deter this freak man??? Uh, no. He's still going to try and fuck you if he can swing it. You look so fucking cute with your sore, sore red nose from wiping so much, the bags under your eyes are sexy as hell to him, and you're moving so damn slowly... you think he isn't gonna take that as an opportunity?

So yeah... he is actually quite into you when you're sick. And he'll probably exhaust you to the point that you'll be sleeping a lot and get through this much faster then usual!

He will kiss you, full on the mouth with a foul amount of tongue (Lets see if we can soothe your throat, baby), so I hope his immune system is good.

He is happy to just warm his cock in you while you sleep, or lay there and babble because you're half really unwell and halfway to an orgasm at the same time. You're just so fucking cute.

He is also happy to eat you out/blow you and overstimulate you for hours. What?? This way he wont get sick himself! Isn't that better, you gross, diseased little slut?

Otis also doesn't shy away from mess (Obviously), so if you have tissues everywhere he's not gonna look at you sideways or anything ^^ Which is such a load off my mind, at least! ^^

He's not gonna make you something good to eat, but he's not a total animal- especially when he gets older. He will make you a cup of tea, and you better like it XD

You need a ride to the bathroom? Otis will haul you on his shoulder the whole way and set you down right on the toilet seat 😅 You need someone to hold you up in the shower? Otis is on it- he needs a shower anyway.

+ Imagines

Another one who does not give a damn how 'gross' you might be when you're sick is Jeffrey/the clown. He'll have you set on his big lap snoozing against his shoulder or sniffling and coughing into tissues while he messes around with different potions in his trailer, just keeping you warm and comfortable there. He says if you can put up with him coughing and hacking all over ya all the time he can damn sure handle you're adorable fucken self whimpering into his shoulder all day.

If you tend to have bad dreams when you're unwell due to your fever like I do: Imagine frowning in your sleep, pressing your lips together in a tight line as the scenes in your head just replay or get worse the harder you try to get rid of them or distract yourself. But there's immediate relief as soon as Freddy enters your dream. Just his presence is comforting to you ^^

Imagine convincing Drayton to come to bed with you instead of back to work. It takes some convincing, but its no secret he likes you more then anyone else in the world- literally- and he gives in after a while. He gets back in, fully clothed, and delicately but purposefully gets in close so you can cuddle up to him, sayin 'just for a couple minutes okay??' very sternly, before he falls asleep to you stroking his surprisingly soft hair.

Imagine sitting on a bench in Bo's shop while he works, slowly just making your way through a roll of toilet paper there because you just couldn't bear to be away from him- even if he was paying little attention to you. Imagine him, though, taking a break eventually and standing between your legs, his hands warm on your thighs, to ask you how yer goin, doll?

Chucky's conscious of your illness and does not want to get it, but he'll sit out on the ground on the other side of your bedroom door and talk to you through it. Ask you if you're alive still, talk about whatever goes through his head just to hear you hum in acknowledgement, play 20 questions while he fiddles with a lighter... that kind of thing. And he'll also cook you some soup later (He's just an asshole- not an incompetent asshole).

[sdr2lovemail]

Is it okay to ask for continuations of requests that aren’t yours? (I’ll come off anon to prove I’m not the same person but I just really like the idea) Bc if so, gn!Technician reader housing the animatronics for a while was such a good concept and kinda comforting in a way??

Anyway I wanted to request the reader being sick either from exhaustion or just regularly sick and their new found family cares for them. Mostly self indulgent as I get over being sick myself. Thank you!

Hello Anon! I'm sorry to hear you're sick, I hope you feel better soon! And yes, you could ask for continuations even if you aren't the original asker. I'm so happy you guys enjoy this silly story I wrote.

In my last fic, I don't feel I put Sun's full personality there. With this one I think I did a better job. I'm also hoping to incorporate Moon into one of these stories. I just haven't figured out a storyline yet.

I hope you enjoy your request Anon!

The animatronics are the world’s okayest technician babysitters!

“Are you okay Superstar? You seem to be coughing quite a bit.” Freddy gives you a worried glance.

It was soon before the Glamrocks had to head to the Pizza Plex. In just a few days, you would be able to have peace in your house again. With all of the robotic mishaps going on, you almost forgot the reason they came here.

Seated in your workstation, Freddy sits patiently as you look in his chest cavity. You’ve already taken a look at Roxy and Monty. Then after Freddy, it’ll be Chica, and finally Sun and Moon’s turn. You decided to save them for last as he didn’t need much maintenance. You look up at the bear, filled with an odd warmth. He kinda reminded you of a dad.

“Oh, I’m fine Freddy. It might just be my allergies. Changing seasons and all that.” You close up his chest and stretch out your back. “I’ll just finish you guys up and head to bed. Sleep off whatever’s going on.”

You did not sleep it off.

Waking up was a chore, bleary eyes and a throbbing head kept you down. Maybe you could just lay down again. Sleep just for a little longer.

A stream of light seeps into the room. Cracking open your tired eyes, there stands Gregory in the doorway. He has his body halfway through the door. Seeing you still in bed, he speaks in a hushed tone.

“Good morning. I know it’s kinda early…but I was wondering if we could have breakfast together.” Gregory whispers. His words getting lost in a foggy void.

“Huh? Oh Gregory, hi. Yeah…I can make us some food. Just…Just give me a minute to get up.” He gives you a small nod, leaving the door ajar to let some light in.

It takes 30 minutes to get up and dressed. On shaky legs, you unsteadily make your way to the kitchen. Chica, Sun, and Gregory are there. You can’t seem to find the others. Sun perks up once they hear your footsteps. He does a full 180 in the chair. Bent in a contorted fashion, he starts to give you a cheery greeting.

“He~ello! Good to see you up and- AUGH! Why do you look like that?! It looks like you haven’t had sleepy time in AGES!” Sun practically falls from their chair and clambers up to you. Gripping your shoulders, he brings his face close to yours. Their erratic movement was making your headache worse. “Maybe you got hurt? Oh, that would be bad bad bad! We should bring you to a medical station. DO you have a medical station? We should bring you to it.”

“We don’t have a medical area Sun…I don’t think any house would.” You say before breaking into a quick coughing fit. “I’ll be fine. I’m just a little sick. I’ll just take some medicine or something.” You pull away from his hold to walk to the fridge. You had promised Gregory breakfast after all. You were about to grab the handle before you were picked up off the ground.

Pressed against their metallic chest, Sun begins to sway you side to side. Similar to a parent rocking their baby, yet more fast and jittery. “OH NO! If there’s no medical station, how will you get better?! Will you DIE?!”

“I know! Humans get lots of rest and it makes them feel better. I guess it’s like recharging.” Chica’s voice calls, muffled from her mouth being stuffed. It looks like she’s eating a frozen pizza. Box and all. You’re so tired you can’t even scold her.

“Rest! Right! They just need to recharge!” And with that, Sun bolts away to your room. He tucks you into the bed tightly. Fluffing your pillows and giving you the commemorative, three-foot Roxy plush you got instead of a raise. “Sweet dreams, Sunshine.” They flick on your lamp and close the curtains before scrambling out of the room.

Back in the kitchen, Gregory has just brought the rest of the animatronics up to date with your condition. Despite having such an advanced AI, none of them know what human sickness entails. Freddy lets out a sad sigh.

“I knew something was off. Gregory is there anything we could do to help them?”

“It would be so lame of them to be stuck in bed for the rest of our stay!” Monty chimes in.

“Will they DIE?! I would be SO SO sad if my favorite techie died!” Sun dramatically brings their hands to their face.

“Uh well, no they won’t. Usually, when we’re sick we eat soup. But, I’m sure you guys don’t know how to cook. I could just go out and get some…Hope they don’t mind me borrowing their card.” Gregory explained.

“What? PSH! How hard could cooking be? I’m sure I could pick it up real easy.” Roxy picks up a used pot from the sink. “You just need one of these…and uh…it makes soup!” The rest of the animatronics cheer in agreement. Walking to different parts of the kitchen, they fail to notice Gregory walking out the front door.

“Okay, I grabbed everything that I think goes in a soup. I’ve seen them cook at least twice so I believe I know what I’m doing.” Chica didn’t know what she was doing. In her arms were random condiments and other ingredients that wouldn’t be found in a soup. Seconds after she set them onto the counter, Sun begins to organize them by size.

“Ah yes, I’ve seen them put this in their food.” Freddy pulls out a bottle of black pepper. He goes to pour some in the pot of water before it’s ripped out his hands.

“Why should you get to do it, Fazbear?” Monty guards the pepper. “You don’t get to do everything just because you’re the lead singer.”

“Monty, please, this isn’t the time for this.” Freddy tries to grab the bottle but Monty jerks it away. Doing so, the bottle slips out of Monty’s hand and onto the floor, spilling pepper everywhere.

“AH! Oh NO! What a mess! Must clean, clean!” Dropping down to his knees, Sun begins scooping up pepper with their hands.

Not seeing the daycare attendant on the ground, Chica trips and falls over. The stuff in her arms fell and spilled onto the ground, sending Sun into another frenzy.

“Ugh! Look what you did, Fazbear!.”

“I am truly sorry, Monty. I didn’t mean to cause this.”

“Hmmm, If I turn the fire all the way up it’ll cook faster! Such a genius as always Roxy!” She reaches her hand and cranks the burner to high heat.

The kitchen dives into further chaos as time goes on. The animatronics keep dropping things, with Sun trying to clean between them. The pot has begun boiling over and spilling onto the floor. Monty and Roxy are fighting about something. Chica is eating random food scraps. And Freddy is just trying to fix everything.

The noise suddenly comes to a halt as Gregory walks through the front door. He pauses when he sees the mess of the kitchen. Setting his shopping bag onto the counter, Gregory walks over to shut the burner off. Pinching his nose bridge, he lets out a sign.

“Can…Can you guys just go to the living room? I need to heat this up.” Out of the bag, he pulls out a takeout bowl of soup.

Shuffling out with their tails between their legs, literally and metaphorically, the animatronics slink into the living room. Stepping over trash and other unidentifiable stains, Gregory heats up your soup and brings it to your room. He knocks on the door before entering.

“I went out to get you some soup. I had to borrow your card to buy it, I’m sorry. And the animatronics kiiiinda destroyed your kitchen. But don’t worry I’ll make sure they clean it up. You just need to focus on getting better.” He then sets the bowl of soup in your lap.

You drank some of the soup, the warm liquid instantly soothing your scratchy throat. “Thank you, Gregory. I really appreciate this. I’m sorry about not eating breakfast with you. When I’m feeling better I’ll make you anything you like.” You were interrupted by a cough. “You should go on now, I don’t need you getting sick too.” You patted him on the head before gently shoving him towards your door.

With a nod, Gregory walks out and gently shuts your door. Now with that done, he had some singing robots to scold

[srslysierraa]

Red Wall.

Prompt ;; Are you tired? Are you sure? I mean, you didn't really do anything today so that's weird. But hey, i suppose we all have those days. So what's his reaction when you're so tired you just kinda, let someone walk all over you? Well, i hope this'll give you a bit of an insight.

Type ;; hcs – one shots, angst, comfort.

Chars. Involved ;; G. Freddy [Fnaf SB]

A/N ;; I'm gonna make a Genshin Version of this, just thought i should get this one out of the way first. Self-indulgent and a bit of a vent(?), just something i wanted to do.

Glamrock Freddy.

Rough day huh?

Yeah, it's kinda obvious.

Well, you unfortunate soul, your day is just not done yet.

As you drag your feet after the long day at work, you just had to discover that two of your friends has started arguing.

One being your actual close friend, one your ex that you have agreed to stay "friends" with you.

So they fought, about some misunderstanding you asume.

As you try to get a clear info on the situation, you went to your actual friend first, as they reveal that your ex has been very fuckin' insensitive as they were trying to vent about something.

"He kept going, “oh if you walked a day in my shoes, you'd be wanting to go back into yours in less than a day bla bla bla-” I'M SICK OF IT!" your friend shouted while scrambling to get some mechanical parts for Monty in a fit of rage, you frantically tried to comfort them, telling them you'd talk with your ex about it soon enough.

"I'm so fucking glad you broke up with him, (Y/n). He- ugh, he even said, “ooooh you're taking your life for granted bla bla bla i had it worse!!” LIKE? WHAT THE FUCK? Okay whatever, i hate him so much."

Honestly, if it's true.

Then it's honestly quite understandable to be upset.

You tried comforting them again, before going to your Ex to confirm what has happened. It bugs you that you had to do all this while working in this massive Pizzaplex too.

Soon enough you talked to him, and his reaction although disappointing, not exactly surprising.

"Damn, what did i do now." He said, looking away as he's obviously uninterested in talking to you.

What you both and him didn't know, was how Freddy actually went to fetch you cause Vanessa needed you for something, but stopped before reaching you.

He saw how you were talking to someone, your ex, he's quite familiar with him. Especially since you two got into the relationship while working here together, you two were just unbreakable.

And though it may be a bit mean, Freddy was quite a bit,, relieved when you two broke up, cause now you can focus on your job without getting distracted.

That's what he tells himself anyways.

Anyhow, he kept his distance as you talk, not wanting to interfere since well, that would be rude.

And maybe, just maybe, he's a bit interested in what you have to say as well.

You sighed, trying to brush his cold welcome that he immediately spat at you without a second thought. "You're such an idiot, why would you compare your life to theirs while they were venting???"

"Ugh, i was saying that they were taking theirs for granted when others, including me, been having it way worse."

You sighed, and he scoffed, as you try to gain enough energy to even- come up with an answer.

"And how do you know that?"

"(Y/n), I literally know about every inch of their life by now, it's literally not that bad."

"Look- do you even know how they feel-?"

Pointless back and forth continued, and with each response, you can't help but get even more exhausted than before.

Freddy frowns, though he kept himself in check, he believes you can fend for yourself, and if not, he'll step in.

"Can you even imagine telling someone how exhausted you are with your day only for them to go, “stop being dramatic, i had it worse.” ???"

"The fuck? Is that supposed to give some point?"

The orange animatronic can't help but feel so upset looking at how you were upset.

"I forgot these types of examples don't work on you."

"No, shut the fuck up, you're saying that me talking like that ain't gonna change a thing right? At least with how they feel? Well your logic don't apply to everyone, (Y/n)."

"That's not- oh my god, that's not even the point!"

And then there you go, explaining on how saying things or comparing yourself to someone else is the last thing that'll make em feel better.

You know, you would think this is common sense but ig the world just loves surprising you.

And you dated this man? Yikes.

-Freddy

Jk

Not really

"Well whatever, not like that's the only thing i said. It was more of a last resort to make them feel better about their life, because literally nothing else works. Obviously I'm no therapist, why did they even come to me."

"Still, you need to understand how invalidating you were."

"Please, i never took the relevance of their problems away. Whatever. Just kinda wished my help was a bit more accepted, instead now they're being the old shitty version of themselves throwing a tantrum."

From then on? You kinda just zoned out. You didn't hear the numbers of insults being directed at you or your friend, you barely had any energy left to care. And you definitely didn't hear the sounds of heavy metal legs walking itself to you and your ex.

You only started focusing back when Freddy speaks, robotic, yet somehow soothing voice boomed enough to get you out of your trance.

"Trust me, apologizing to them would be a bad call. Well, not like you'll believe me anyways, you always seem to have some kind of vendetta against me or something stupid like that. You're (Y/n) afterall. Not to mention you fuckin live for drama don't you? Telling me to do shit, thinking you're sooo much of a bigger person and-"

"Uhm, Excuse me."

Both you and the satan of a man in front of you looked up at the bear, hearing his voice.

"Of fucking course it's you, well, what do you want?"

"Sorry, but that isn't really nice of you to say things like that."

"Ah, so you've heard. That's none of your business, just go sing or something. We're having a talk. Well more like me talking to a brick wall or some shit, since she won't talk."

You didn't say anything, not that you want to now. Tired, that's what you are. Not even gonna lie you're starting to crack under pressure, but you had to hold it in especially since you're not at home.

"Well, I'll need to bring (Y/n) with me, Officer Vanessa needed them."

Freddy was beyond the point of kindness, but he had to keep his cool if he doesn't want someone to report him and get him scrapped. You just put a hand on your shoulder, slowly tugging you to follow him as he leaves your stupid person you call an ex behind.

You poor thing..

Don't you worry though, Freddy is here now!!

Even though you can still hear your ex yelling at Freddy for taking you away 🥳

You sighed, heavy legs as you're not in the mood to even walk right now. Freddy picked up on this, and opted to walk slowly to keep your pace steady, holding you softly by keeping a hand on your back just in case. He can see your dim eyes practically fading their light, as you don't even seem to have an expression on your face. You're tired exhausted, exasperated, anything of the kind, and you can barely focus on what's going on. You didn't even realize that you stopped walking when freddy hold you still softly, trying to look at you.

"Superstar, are you alright?" He asks, voice so gentle that you can practically hear the worries in his voice, you nodded, light headaches worsen as you did. "I'm fine, Freddy. Thank you." You choked out, forced smile crookedly etched upon your face as you tried to wave him off. "No, you are not. Do you want to maybe take a break? I can always inform Officer Vanessa." Again, sweet words has been freshly landed itself upon your ear that, you can't help but find it weird yet also, refreshing.

You shook your head, solemnly repeating that you're fine and that he has nothing to worry about, you tried to get yourself together and walk ahead, yet a pout found itself on Freddy's robotic face, before he reflexively take a hold on your wrist, softly as to not hurt you. "Superstar, what he said to you is deserving of a proper Warning, maybe even a sentence from the higher up themselves. I will notify main office about this behavior." "NO, don't!"

If he could raise a brow for you, he would, though that's really unneeded since it's evident how confused he is with your sentence. "I don't wanna cause anymore unnecessary trouble, let him be." You sighed out, pleading eyes targeting themselves on the bear, as he does a robotic sigh himself. "Alright, but i will not tolerate it any longer if he continues to bother you. Also, i think you're an amazing person, (Y/n)." "Thank you, Freddy."

He nods, once again walking with you side by side. Once you've finished your little meet up with Vanessa, she looks at the time, getting reminded of a question. "Oh, also, what took you so long?" "Oh nothing, my ex, he was just-" "He verbally abused (Y/n)." Both you and Vanessa looks at Freddy with widen eyes, surprise obvious as both of you didn't expect him to talk. "He what." The blonde night guard hissed, now obviously a bit ticked off.

Of course Freddy was as happy as a bumblebee can be, even though he's a bear. I mean, your ex getting the knockback he deserves? Thank heavens. You however, was facepalming just by the reminder of how Vanessa acts on the daily, and how she would handle the situation, oh dear.

But Freddy believes this'll end well, and if not, he'll just have to take care of the situation himself. At this point your Ex isn't a red flag anymore, he's a red wall.

[superherokisser]

a/n - this is completely self-indulgent but anyways, i hope you enjoy. kind of modern au btw.

"well maybe i do like y/n-" michael jokes. me, him, and jeremy were all hanging out in his room, just chatting and making art. "oh really dude?" jeremy, the guy with the freddy mask, says slyly and takes a sip of his coke. i laugh one of those flustered laughs. "obviously not, i was just joking!" michael says, glancing at me for a second. "yeah, yeah of course you were." jeremy says, waving his hand. "y/n is too pretty for me, man." michael added, leaning back in his spinny chair. "fjsconiajsfjkjcjiadjh-" i say, covering my red face with my hands. jeremy and michael both laugh. "you good bro?" michael asks, looking over at me with his surprisingly dark blue eyes. "michael's just speaking facts my man." jeremy says, taking another sip of his coke. "i- thank you?" i finally say slowly. "but hey maybe you're not too hot for me~" jeremy says, moving his chair closer to me. i turn a deep shade of red and pink again, "BRO- I SWEAR TO LITERAL GOD-" i almost yell. "okay jeremy, we get it. i think that's enough jere." michael says, rolling his eyes. "alright yeah, i think y/n is dead." jeremy agrees. "THANK YOU." i say in relief. i finally look up and accidentally start to stare at michael. his fluffy, brown, mullet and his inky, blue eyes. i make eye-contact with him and almost want to look away. but his stare looks so soft and content. "y/n? mike? earth to y/n and michael?" jeremy asks, looking at both of us. i snap back to reality and so does michael. "and that is why y/n is too pretty for me." michael states proudly and i go back to being the flustered mess i was before.  

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body. 

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm. 

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered. 

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.” 

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?” 

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.” 

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.” 

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.” 

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month. 

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair. 

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly. 

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.” 

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head. 

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.” 

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.” 

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.” 

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die. 

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room. 

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground. 

“Who is it?” You asked. 

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered. 

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.” 

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled. 

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.” 

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.” 

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.” 

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.” 

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.” 

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.” 

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom. 

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well. 

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

[ickle-ronniekins]

break me like a promise

desc: he wanted to tell you how he felt. he wanted to let himself love you. he wanted to do all of these things, but first he made a promise that nobody would get hurt. but when fred was busy looking out for your heart, who was looking out for his?

word count: 3.8k

pairing: WELL THERE ISN’T ANY PAIRING IS THERE???? because unrequited love sucks and i’m feeling real sad and wanted to make fred feel sad too (sry i’m mad at myself too it’s alright you can hate me)

warning(s): angst/sadness/pure heartbreak/i hate everything

A/N: i’d like to personally apologize to fred weasley/people who love fred weasley. might i suggest listening to the piano version of all too well by taylor swift whilst reading this. feel free to cry with me, thanks. PS: i do NOT give consent for my work to be reposted on any other platform.

Just how many times had he heard the words, “Best friends always fall for one another”?

He’d very much like to tell the people that had told him that to kindly piss off, thank you very much.

He’d been hurt many times before. Of course he had. Fred was used to it at this point, he reckoned his body had adapted easily to the constant blows to the shins or knees and things. As a brother, he was always getting ragged on and wrestled with by his other siblings. He’d ended up with black eyes, split lips, knees to the stomach more times than he could count on two hands. As an athlete, he’d taken countless bludgers to the body, either on the Quidditch pitch or in the comfort of his own backyard. George had been prone to getting hurt, too. Of course, Fred had always jumped at the chance to help George feel better, whenever he needed it. Fred loved being the older of the two. He always took his job as “big brother” very seriously, and it only got stronger once Ron and Ginny were born. He wanted to be somebody they could need.

But there was something different about this type of hurt. He couldn’t control it. He couldn’t make sense of it, and nobody could fix it, not even his own twin.

On the outside, Fred had always put forth an aura of confidence. Nothing could get him down, could it? He’d be dammed if he ever let anyone see him with nothing but a huge grin on his face, that usual mischievous glint in his eye. But on the inside, he was just like everyone else.

As a hoarse cry escaped him, he clamped his hand over his mouth, desperate to not let the sounds of his broken heart echo their way down into the common room, to where his friends were indulging in hot cups of butterbeer, cheering for Harry’s tumultuous win versus the others in the tournament, all the while unaware of Fred, unable to control his emotions and crumpling to the ground like a pit of scrap parchment thrown into the bin.

It was his own fault really. He shouldn’t have been so bloody stupid in the first place. He had this coming from the start. He felt a painful, unfamiliar burn in the back of his throat before his vision turned blurry yet again. He didn’t want to replay the sound of you saying I’m so sorry over and over in his head, like a broken record. He muffled some sort of expletive under his breath, and though he’d never admit it, all he yearned for was nothing more than a tight embrace from his brother.

He shouldn’t have let himself say yes.

He could have said no,

but he would’ve hated himself if he had.

“D’you reckon I’d be able to punch that smirk right off of his ugly little rat face?” you’d asked one day, brows threaded together in annoyance. The two of you were sitting in the middle of a Charms lesson, and you were glancing over toward a Ravenclaw who was busy charming his way through every single female student surrounding him with nothing but the batting of his eyelashes. 

You turned back toward Fred and your features twisted into a grin. “I mean, just look at him, would you? What an arrogant little git. Thinks he can just woo his way through a lesson. Ridiculous.”

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” Fred asked you. Playfully, he elbowed you in the ribs, causing you to recoil a bit, and he continued, “wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that he’d been wooing you? Besides, Y/N, pretty sure I’d heard you ramble on about how he’s the best looking bloke in school,” he flipped his long hair dramatically in an attempt to make fun of you and earned himself a nice punch to the arm.

You frowned and folded your arms across your chest. Sneering a bit, you said, “Yeah, that is until he opened his mouth,” You huffed and narrowed your eyes, “He really is a git, you know.”

“So you’re telling me,” Fred started, “that if he came up to you right this moment and asked you to go to the Yule Ball, you’d reject him?”

You nodded and widened your eyes, as if it were obvious. “Well, of course I would!” Flitwick dismissed you all, and you and Fred and the other students filtered out into the corridors to head to the next lessons. Fred gently guided you through the massive sea of students, and you two found a semi-empty spot near the Great Hall. “Sure, he’s good looking and all, but I don’t quite fancy spending the evening with a bloke who’s going to chat my ear off about the origins of his last name and how his parents are basically royalty, and all that.”

“He does not do that.” Fred laughed.

“Swear to Merlin, he does, Fred.” you replied, folding your hand across your heart. Then your eyes brightened. “Besides, why would I want to go with him when I’m going with you?”

That wasn’t the first time Fred had ever felt his heart soar. He’d been mad for you for years, hadn’t he? Yet, each and every time it took him by surprise, because what the hell was that going on inside of his chest? He never wanted to admit to himself how he felt about you, but it got to the point where he couldn’t deny it anymore; not to himself, at least. But nevertheless, he painted a look of confidence across his face so you wouldn’t be able to tell what he was feeling on the inside. He smirked at you, and watched a bit of panic sweep itself across your features. Your eyes widened. “Shit. I mean, you will go with me, won’t you?”

“Oh, was that the plan? Glad to have been a part of it,” he chuckled, hoping his voice didn’t sound too wobbly. He then poked you in the hips and said, “Of course I will. As long as you promise to not hurt me.”

You peered at him with a confused expression and he laughed. “Relax, Y/N. I mean just don’t step on my bloody feet all night.”

You sucked in a deep breath and then rolled your eyes and slinked your arm with his. “Thank Merlin. You didn’t really think I’d go with anyone else, did you? Come on, Weasley. I expected more of you. Now let’s go -- I reckon we’re in for quite the adventure, aren’t we? Can’t wait to see all these Gryffindors fall flat on their feet when McGonagall begins dance training today!”

You tugged on his hand to lead him into the Great Hall, but he merely floated through the air like a leaf being pushed and gently guided by the wind.

-- -

He shouldn’t have let himself get swept away.

He could have let himself go with someone else,

but he still would’ve been thinking about you.

George and Ron had told him to make a move after the Yule Ball. “Just go for it, mate, what could possibly go wrong? It’s obvious how she feels, isn’t it?” Fred wished he knew then just how wrong it could possibly go.

Fred resisted, though. He didn’t want to ruin a good thing. You two had danced the entire night away, you in your pale pink dress and white trainers. You two had been the last on the floor, and only left merely because Professor McGonagall had tapped you both on the shoulders to let you know that the evening was winding down. The band had stopped playing, anyway. And Fred, keen on wanting to make this a night to remember, kept everything exactly as it was. He gave you a small embrace in the common room at the end of the night before heading up to your respective dormitories. He didn’t want to mess anything up, and so he ignored his brothers’ advice and kept his lips shut.

He then began to panic, just as he always did. He began to pretend as though his feelings were fleeting, if only to fool himself. These feelings for you, they weren’t real, right? The way he wanted to hold you close and dance with you forever, the way he felt his heart constrict at the way your lashes fluttered when you looked down nervously toward your feet when he’d complimented you, the way he wanted desperately to lean in and kiss you at the end of the night. They couldn’t be real, because you two were just friends. Perhaps, he reckoned, maybe it was the excitement of the ball. The decorations. The dresses. He’d decided late that evening, still swimming in his high from the Yule Ball, that it had been exactly that -- the ball. It wasn’t you making him go all romantic, it was merely the excitement of the evening, and the tournament, and everyone being paired off in dates and things. He didn’t really fancy you.

He was proved very, very wrong the next morning when he waltzed into the Great Hall and saw you sitting at the table sipping your tea, back in your everyday clothes, back to normal -- just friends, as it had always been. And yet when you turned toward him and smiled, the sunlight highlighting your features in a way that made his heart jump, he knew that he was in over his head, because of course he was! He was mad for you and always had been, no matter how many times he’d tried to convince himself otherwise.

“Freddie!”

He nervously walked over to the table, suddenly feeling ridiculously self conscious for the first time in his life, and you tugged on his arm so he’d sit himself down next to you.

“Was just telling George here how McGonagall had to basically pull us off of the dance floor last night, eh?” your eyes scrunched near the corners when you smiled so deeply. To George, you continued, “He’s quite the dancer, your brother.”

George sipped his coffee casually. “Oh yeah?” he raised an eyebrow up in surprise and smirked, but not for long, because Fred kicked him inconspicuously underneath the table and he groaned in pain.

This went unnoticed by you, Fred gathered, because you kept on talking without so much as a batted eyelash at the twins’ little rift. “Of course! Wildly talented, he is.” To Fred, you said, “We had a lot of fun, didn’t we?”

Fred couldn’t help the immediate grin that spread across his face. “Yeah, we did.” His voice was soft as ever in his own ears, and everything around you both froze, until he heard George cough a bit on his piece of toast. Fred hated nothing more than being so vulnerable, so he attempted a joke, “Except for all the times you stepped on my feet. Blimey, woman, thought I wasn’t going to be able to walk at the end of the night.”

George started to laugh, and you kicked him under the table and swatted Fred with the sleeve of your sweater. “Hey! It’s real bloody hard to dance gracefully in trainers, alright? It’s too bad this doesn’t happen every year, or I’d be able to prove to you how good I actually am.”

“You mean to tell me you’d go with this git to the Yule Ball every single year if we had one?” George asked, throwing Fred a smirk.

“Why not?” you shrugged. “We make a good team. Why, you jealous, Georgie?” you giggled, reaching across the table and snatching his piece of toast and biting into it. The younger twin just glanced at you, unamused, all while Fred could hardly keep the loud pounding in his heart from growing.

You and George became fully immersed in conversation, but Fred was barely paying attention. He was too busy peering at you, indulging his feelings, because he’d have to be an idiot not too, right? He just keep watching you with a new type of admiration in his eyes, and he admitted to himself right then and there, when you glanced back at him mid-laugh as George made some stupid joke, that he was completely and utterly and irrevocably in love with you.

-- -

He shouldn’t have kissed you.

He could’ve just embraced you like normal,

but he would’ve been yearning to feel your lips on his anyway.

It was the one and only time he got to, and now of course he wished that he hadn’t, because all he could remember of it was the surprise of you and the salt from his own tears as they fell down his cheeks and onto his own lips as he rushed toward the Gryffindor tower.

“Oh, Freddie! You’ll never guess what I’ve just heard,” you’d called to him in a sing-song sort of voice down the corridors. You skipped toward him, bag slung over your shoulder as you made your way through students, only to come face to face with the ginger boy in front of the empty Transfiguration classroom you’d both end up in for lessons later.

“Well you going to keep me waiting, or what?” he asked, a bashful smile on his lips, and he couldn’t quite get over how adorable you looked with that cheeky grin on your face.

“Just had a little chat with Alicia,” you started. You grabbed his arm and shook him, “she needs someone to fill in for her in the upcoming match since Madam Pomfrey still won’t let her play, right? So take a gander, Freddie, at who she picked to replace her?!”

“If the answer isn’t you, then this is a terrible story.” he winked.

You cocked your head to the side and folded your arms across your chest. “Lucky it is me, then, yeah?”

For a moment, he thought you were joking until he noticed the evident sparkle in your eye that could only come from being told you’d be able to play in an upcoming Quidditch match. You didn’t even try and hide your excitement; a huge smile split your face and Fred picked you up in his arms and whirled you around, all while shouting how proud he was of you and how he couldn’t wait to take to the Qudditch pitch with you. “Bloody hell, you’re brilliant! No wonder I’m so mad for you.” You didn’t seem to notice his voice of words, because you just giggled like a little kid in his arms and were breathless when he set you down.

He shouldn’t have done it. He knew that. But with all of the excitement and adrenaline were surging between you both, he just had too. How could he not when you peered at him, eyes filled with wonder? How could he not, when he’d been hiding his feelings for so long? How could he not, when you were mere inches from him, and all he wanted to do was know the taste of you?

He shouldn’t have kissed you, but he did anyway. He placed you down gently and you began rambling on about how the entire Quidditch thing had unfolded a few moments before, and he was so filled with overwhelming love for you that he leant in and slowly pressed his lips to yours. At first he thought your shock was a good thing. Perhaps he’d taken you by surprise in the best way, and you’d melt into him and breathe that you’d been waiting for him to do that forever. You’d tell him that you’ve been crazy for him this entire time too, haven’t you? You’d smile and laugh like a little schoolgirl and tug him into a nearby empty classroom to make up for all the time you two had missed together.

But then you pulled back and pure panic took him over. He searched your nervous eyes and furrowed brows for some sort of answer, but all you seemed to be doing was collecting your thoughts. He watched as you tugged anxiously on the strap of your bag and your face flushed a deep, crimson red. He watched you for answers, but the more he searched, the more he felt like he was caught in a rip tide pulling him further and further from the shoreline.

He opened his trembling mouth to speak, but all that escaped him were nervous “um’s” and you kept on shaking your head. “Fred,” you said hoarsely, and he hated how terribly different and foreign his name sounded on your lips. “What.. what are you doing?”

“I --” he stammered, and he felt like a complete idiot for not being able to get the words out. Since when had Fred Weasley ever been tongue tied? Since when had he ever lost his confidence? Since when had he ever let anyone see him so open.. and bare.. and painfully, heartbreakingly vulnerable?

He couldn’t help but notice just how heavy you were breathing. From nerves, surely, because he was doing the exact same thing. In fact, as deep as he breathed in, he still felt as though he couldn’t fully catch his breath.

“I thought you, erm..” you started, and Fred could see the tears trying to push past your eyelashes, “Fred, we --”

He finally found his voice, because he stupidly blurted out, “I’m mad for you,” and he wished he hadn’t. Your face dropped and you peered at him with a longing he’d never seen before.

Your voice was painfully soft as you looked toward the ground. “You’re -- you’re my best friend, Fred.”

His questions must’ve been written across his face plain as day, because you grabbed his hand and began pleading. “I mean, the Yule Ball, we’d gone as mates, hadn’t we? We’re friends, Fred. We’ve always been friends.”

Bloody hell, how many times could you say the word friends? Felt quite like a dagger straight to his heart.

He wanted to ask, You’ve never felt the same way, have you?

And he knew you’d respond, I love you like a friend, Freddie.

“Fred,” you breathed, and squeezed his hand, but he couldn’t seem to say anything. “Fred, please, I-I’m so sorry,”

With every ounce of strength he had, he swallowed his tears and sadness and vulnerability and painted a smirk onto his face. It didn’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes though. “No, listen, don’t.. be sorry, Y/N -- I-I just.. read things wrong, I s’pose. I'm the one who should be sorry.”

By the look in your eye, he knew you didn’t believe him, and he didn’t really believe himself either. How could he possibly be alright when he felt as if he were being thrown from a cliff? You ignored everything he’d just said, and instead opted to try again. “Fred, you’re my best friend -- please, I’m so sorry, I can’t take it if you’re mad at me,”

He hated seeing you cry. He hated seeing you so upset. He cupped your face in his hands and forced out a laugh that could almost pass as real. “Y/N, stop. I’m not mad at you. How could I be mad at you? You’re my best mate! I just.. it’s fine. Let’s forget all about it, alright?” He hoped his voice sounded firm, because he wanted you both to do just that. Forget. Just then, the bell rang and students began pouring out of classrooms and filtering into the corridor. Fred let go of you and looked toward his feet before backing away and meeting your gaze again. “Have got to get to Dark Arts. I’ll see you later, yeah?” he grinned, though his heart was not in it.

Before you could say anything more, or before Fred fell to the ground in pure agony, he walked swiftly passed you in the complete opposite direction of Defense Against the Dark Arts and picked up speed, because he just needed to get to his dormitory. What the hell was this pain he felt in the back of his throat? He didn’t look back -- he couldn’t. He didn’t look back as his vision became blurry, and he didn’t look back to see you standing there in the place he’d left you, a hand clamped over your mouth and tears streaming down your face at the thought of breaking your best friend’s heart.

-- -

He shouldn’t have let himself fall for you.

He could’ve tried seeing someone else,

but he would’ve been fooling himself if he pretended to be in love with anyone but you.

There was no way he’d be able to face you now. He’d stealthily snuck through the crowd in the common room and had ignored the faint sounds of your voice calling his name. Nobody had noticed, really, for they were too busy celebrating Harry’s victorious second place win in the second task and eagerly discussing the third.

He wasn’t hiding it anymore. It was written plain as day on his face, he reckoned, his eyes wet with heartbreak and his cheeks flushed red from all of the crying he’d been doing. How could he have been so stupid? Of course you didn’t feel the same way. You’d said it yourself, hadn’t you? Friends. Always been friends. And that’s all you two would ever be.

Sometime later on, after he’d been lying in bed for upwards of an hour staring at the ceiling, the tears started again. And this time it was worse. This time, they were big, fat, heart-wrenching tears and hoarse cries he couldn’t stop. They were involuntary. Someone quietly made their way into the dormitory. Fred looked up through his blurry vision. It was George.

Being the elder of the two, Fred had always cared a little bit extra about George. How many times had he comforted the younger twin? When George had scraped his knee running around their yard, Fred had cleaned him up. When George had fallen off of his broom and broken his arm, after Molly had warned them not to fly that way, Fred had patched him up. When George had to wear his glasses to lessons one day during their first year and had been made fun of by some annoying, rude Ravenclaw, Fred held George when he cried in their dormitory. So now, when George peered at his older brother biting back tears, he merely bit down on his lip to fight back his own, and opened his arms.

Maybe it was the vulnerability of the moment. Maybe it was because George knew without Fred needing to even tell him. Maybe it was the way that George knew, deep down, just how broken Fred felt. Broken like a promise. Maybe it was a mixture of lots of things that made Fred collapse into his younger brother and not hold back his tears.

Maybe it was the way George had said, “I know, mate,” that made Fred hold onto him a little bit tighter and a little bit longer.

All Fred knew was that, in that moment, his brother was the only thing keeping him from collapsing.

He shouldn’t have fallen in love with you.

He could’ve stopped it, if he’d tried hard enough,

but he would’ve just fallen even harder.

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[darthwheezely]

let me - f.w.

Summary: Fred will always choose you, even if you don’t know and wouldn’t choose him back. Even in the worst of times, Fred would do anything to let you know how much he loves you.

This is based off my recent break up which was supremely awful and I’m going to be picking up the pieces for...a while. This is kind of self-indulgent, I’m sorry about that!

people that might like this: @whiz-bangs78 @monoscandal @gcdric @theweasleyslut @thehufflepuffwife @vogueweasley @loony-loopy-lupinn @oh-for-merlins-sake @slytherinsunrise @lupinsclassroom @durmstrange

Warnings: angst, but slightly fluffy??? mentions of cheating and light homophobia it’ll be ok basically lol and cussing and bullying...oops? PROLLY FUCKING AWFUL WRITING PLZ I TRIED IM JUST EMO RN SKSKWKWJWKKSK

It wasn’t that Fred Weasley hated your boyfriend, it was actually that he had really liked him. Kind of really enjoyed his company. Even went as far to say that he considered him a friend.

And because of that, he told himself, he wasn’t able to see exactly what was happening.

-

Everyone had known that you and Sam Tuckson had broken up, to be honest, drama at Hogwarts was dulling and unfortunately for you, you and your relationship had fallen prey to the lull of gossip. 

Sam Tuckson had basically slid his way into your life at the beginning of fifth year, and to you he was everything you had wanted. The Hufflepuff Keeper was tall, tanned, smiled, and laughed like everything that came to him (including you) was easy, and something in that carefree sense of a walk and talk he had was more than enough to satiate your feelings. You were for all intents and purposes madly in love with him, and everything up until your break up five days ago led you to believe he was as well.

To say Fred had been a little jealous at first was taking it a bit lightly. It didn’t take a whole lot to figure out that Fred had been pining for you since second year, and to make matters worse? He was your best friend. For the first couple of months or so in your new relationship, he found himself at night silently wishing and pretending he was Sam, not needing to steal glances across tables in the Great Hall, being able to hold onto your hand a little longer than he was allowed, and to finally be able to taste your lips on his whenever you wanted him to.

For the first time, he wasn’t your number one boy anymore and it killed him - but the only thing able to bring him back was the joy Sam brought you day after day. It was starting to eat at him past month 2, and with that brought George:

“Freddie. Mate,” he sighed looking at his older twin. Fred hadn’t left bed at all that day and knew he wouldn’t leave it for another day unless he did the inevitable-

“-you have to either tell her or wait. She misses us...she misses you.” 

“I know, Georgie.” He looked at George, longing for peace evident in his angular frame. Fred nodded and sighed, sitting up. 

“I know.”

-

Fred had made it his personal mission to befriend your boyfriend, and while it was painstakingly murderous for the first week or so - he eventually became to warm up to the Hufflepuff boy, even going as far as hanging out with him and letting him in on pranks with George when he wanted. Honestly? The guy was starting to grow on him, the idea of a friend of his dating you seemed to lessen the emotional blow of knowing it wasn’t him, and he felt himself over time starting to possibly lighten his own load on you.

And then the rumors started to fly around.

Fred had been walking to Transfiguration and had rounded the corner-

“I heard he’d been slipping it to Astoria and Daphne!”

Who the hell are they talking about?

“Nah, he doesn’t like Slytherin girls-“

“But have you heard about him with Slytherin boys!” They snickered loudly.

Fred continued to walk, the high pitched giggles of the younger Ravenclaw girlsinging in his ears.

After class he made his way to the Great Hall for lunch when a gaggle of Hufflepuff ladies crossed in front, (they always take so damn long when they’re in a line across, he thought)

“Anyway, I heard he hates her guts now.”

“Sam could never hate her! They were together for soooo long you know.”

His heart stopped. No. No they couldn’t be talking about-

“It’s because she’s frigid that’s what I heard.”

“Y/N? Frigid? Please have you seen her with him, she acted like a slut around him! Disgusting really.” She wrinkled her nose.

He felt his knuckles whiten and a lump in his throat begin to rise.

“I heard he’d been doing it the whole time!” The last one said as they hitched a left to the courtyard.

Fred hadn’t ever known what it’s like to be frozen or paralyzed with anger, but he learned it then.

-

You were sitting in your navy and golden dorm, the only sanctity and safety you felt surrounded by the colors you knew so well. You hadn’t felt the strength to go the Great Hall for anything today, not after breakfast. Not after you waltzed in after what felt like a normal morning and heard tinny laughs and stifled giggles from the Hufflepuff table.

You’d been made the fool by the boy you loved. And there was nothing at this point that could get you past that realization now.

You’d heard the rumors in the hallway. You’d heard them when Pansy Parkinson sat next to you in Potions and whispered in your ear, “maybe just dip yourself in amortentia next time. Might last longer.” You’d seen the way Sam Tuckson, Hufflepuff Golden Boy, looked over at you with nothing but pity in his eyes before he trudged to the Ravenclaw table, looked at the ground and murmured-

“I’m sorry it ended like this. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to love you sometimes.”

And scurried back to his own seat.

You hadn’t had the strength to find the twins. You could barely find the strength to move from your bed, to get more tissues. You simply didn’t have it. And then.

There was a knock on your door.

“Please, Cho, not right now, okay?” You croaked, turned away from the door. You could barely hear the door creak open to see your best friend’s head creeping from the other side.

“Knock, knock, princess.” He said softly, showing your turned frame a small smile.

“Can I come in? Please?” You nodded. Fred came through, shutting the door as quietly as possible behind him. He looked at you curled up in your bed with your uniform still on. Your favorite throw blanket draped over you as you laid on top of the covers and all he could think of was how.

How did he let this happen?

“Freddie, you couldn’t have known.” Fred blinked realizing he had spoken out loud and froze in place.

“Yes, actually I could have”

“Fred-”

“No, I don’t think you understand.” he almost growled it, it was so low that you could barely register it was him saying it. You turned him to look at him then, pulling your knees to a criss cross applesauce position. He clenched his jaw feeling tears and the lump in his throat finally erupting.

“See, Y/N, I’ve always been there to protect you. It’s never been a job, or a chore, because I’ve been so blindingly in love with you ever since you hurled a bezoar at me in Potions when we were 12.” You choked out a small giggle at that, your heart pounding in your chest. He looked up at you then tears on his face.

“I know this isn’t fair. Because this is a really shit time to be selfish and tell you how much I love you, but I was his friend, Y/N. I willingly sat and enjoyed his company and I could’ve seen what he was doing to you because I’m a guy I should know what guys do and quite frankly? You deserve so much” he swallowed and readjusted his jaw again feeling more tears as he watched you crying to, wanting to stop but something in him told him this was it he couldn’t hold in it he couldn’t-

“-so, so much more. Than me. Than him. Jesus, than everyone. And, love, I am...so sorry I didn’t tell you this sooner. Please know our friendship wasn’t a lie and we never have to discuss this ever I just...you’re so bloody fucking perfect and knowing I watched him do that to you without knowing I just-”

“Freddie.” You held out your arms. It was his turn for him to choke then as his knees buckled and fell towards you on the bed. 

You couldn’t be mad at him or angry or upset. You weren’t. You were just,,,

“Fred, I need time.” You whispered against his shoulder, his body engulfing yours in a tango of arms and legs and breaths that only you two knew this well.

“Angel, I didn’t mean to make it seem-” he pulled away to look into your eyes.

“I know you weren’t asking me of anything, Fred. I love you I just...I need time. For a lot of things.” He swallowed and nodded moving to get off the bed and give you the space you needed. However, you pulled him back.

“I love you, Freddie. That isn’t changing.” And out of force his arms seemed tighter as he breathed out, meeting your forehead.

“And I’d wait every second of everyday to hear you say it again.”

[kkkkkafka]

Was thinking about a bond between "The voices on the phone" and "The Foxy kid" (Before reading please check out the names I gave them, cause I will use their name in order to not repeat the alias "Phone Guy" over again)

Scott and Michael: Mike was grateful for the mysterious guy that had helped him for 4 nights in total, so he did Scott's final request by checking the suits and found the poor man's body. In the Afterlife AU, I imagine their conversation was like this

"Thanks for helping me for 4 nights... I couldn't have done it without you. But ain't you too young for this job? You should have found another part-time job though"

"I'm literally older than you. But thanks for checking the suits"

Self-indulgent headcanon here: Scott is actually half-Viet, so he looks young despite being 27 I'm 20 and always got confused with a highschooler everytime

James and Fritz Smith: They are brothers. But not by blood, James was his dad's and Fritz were his mom's before their parents married. James helped Fritz having a part-time job in Freddy's. Fritz was originally on the day-shift, but then he asked to move to the night-shift one day because that day he had a huge assigment. When Fritz was fired, James tried to reason with their boss but failed. Fritz told him it was okay and he would find another part-time job anyway. My original idea for them was they were cousins, but were scrapped anyways

Allistair and Fritz (the kid haunted Foxy): Allistair's dad was Fritz's cousin, so it should make sense that Fritz was his uncle in some ways. Assumed that Michael in FNAF 3 talking to him while doing the shift, he knew about his uncle's death, and joked that "Wow didn't know my uncle was in a fursuit haha". But if Fritz was alive then these twos would definitely get along really well cause they have alike personality

[prettyboybarzal]

Good For You

A/N: Another self-indulgent Freddie fic <3 Just felt like part one needed a part two! So here she is. Enjoy and let me know what y’all think, as always :) 

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: An age gap and smut

Part One // Masterlist

Freddie thinks you’re too young for him, but you let him call you up for no-strings-attached sex anyway.

It happens for the first time about a week after the start of his season. He’s sore and needy, and you’re the person he thinks of because ever since he fucked you in Arizona, he hasn’t been able to think about anyone else. The sight of his name flashing across your phone screen throws you into a tailspin and after the third ring, you finally pick up.

“Hello?”

“Are you busy?”

“No, I was just cleaning up dinner.”

“You should come over.”

He hears you sigh and he knows that you’re thinking about saying no, but he’s sure he’ll combust if you do, so he jumps in again to stop you. 

“I’ll come to you.”

You let him in no more than twenty minutes later, shaking in anticipation for what’s to come as he shrugs his jacket off and slings it over a stool at your kitchen counter. And then his hands are on you and he’s placing you on the counter so he can slot himself between your thighs.

“I’ve been thinking about you every day since Arizona.”

He undresses you between kisses and spreads you out on the counter before kneeling between your thighs and eating you like you’re his last meal. He works you through three orgasms and stimulates you until his name becomes one with the curses and moans falling from your lips and you’re pulling at his hair to get him to stop.

He takes you on the living room couch later that night, rough and frenzied. His massive hand on the base of your neck, cheek pressed against the cushions as he fucks you into them.

“Fucking you is the best and worst decision I’ve ever made,” he grunts as he fills you up, free hand gripping your ass. “You’re addicting.”

He’s addicting, you decide after he leaves with a kiss against your forehead. You watch him disappear down the hall, legs aching, body shaking, and you know it won’t be the last you see of him. You have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, and true to his word, he’s back for more before you know it, like an addict.

The moment you open the apartment to him, he’s kissing you.

“Freddie, this is becoming a bad habit,” you murmur against his lips as he walks you backwards towards your bedroom. He huffs against your lips before pulling away. 

“What about this is bad?”

His lips ghost the skin of your neck and you sigh happily, tilting your head to the side to give him more skin to kiss. His hands engulf your entire ass as he presses you up against the wall. Your hands curl into his hair, tugging on the strands lightly as he kisses down to the valley of your breasts. 

He places your feet back on the ground and pulls your thong and leggings off, kicking them down the hall once you’ve removed them. Your hands make quick work of his belt buckle and jeans, but he only lets them fall to his ankles before he’s pushing you back up against the wall and entering you.

Your gasp fills the room and he gives you a minute to adjust before he’s pulling out and thrusting back into you. One hand rests above your head while the other grips your waist, keeping you steady against the wall. 

“You like when I fuck you like this?” he asks, even though he knows the answer. Of all the women he’s been with, you’re the dirtiest. That’s part of the reason he keeps finding himself crawling back to you, among other things that he hasn’t quite unpacked yet.

“So much,” you moan. “Fuck me harder, Fred.” 

He sucks marks into your neck and against your collarbone as he slams into you. Your moans fill the room, whining and whimpering until you reach your high. It doesn’t take long, seeing as your pinned against the wall with him surrounding you. With a few more thrusts, your pussy is pulsing around him and he’s filling you up, teeth scraping your neck as he groans against your skin.

When he finally pulls out, Freddie places you gently on the ground and pulls up his jeans. He’s blushing all over, smiling to himself as he watches you retrieve your clothing from the floor. He presses you back against the wall once your dressed and meets you in the middle with a filthy open-mouthed kiss because he just doesn’t know how to keep his hands off you. He wonders if he ever will.

“I love fucking you,” he admits. “More than you even know.”

- 

Freddie thinks you’re too young for him, but you end up as his plus-one to a Leafs event anyway.

It’s not a great idea, but after Auston suggests it over dinner one night, Freddie can’t seem to shake the idea from his head, so he asks you to come. 

But, that’s not the extent of it and he ends up finding a dress a few weeks before the event while he’s shopping for himself. He tries to talk himself out of buying it for you, only to find himself buying it the next day. It’s silk with thin straps and a slit up the leg. He can practically picture it on you and can’t help the smirk that comes to his lips when he thinks about taking it off.

You arrive home to it a day later and find yourself speechless after slipping it on. It’s just right for you, in every way, and you feel seen by Freddie. You feel like he gets you in a way that no one ever has before. Scenarios fill your head of the two of you together, hand-in-hand, kissing in front of his teammates and his bosses. You find yourself hoping they’ll come to fruition when he brings you to the gala.

You snap a picture of yourself in the mirror and send it to him and you’re satisfied when he texts back: I can’t wait to take that dress off you.

The event arrives and the moment you pull up to the banquet hall, you’re regretting the decision to come.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask in front of the banquet hall. He looks confused by the question, but then he smiles. 

“Of course,” he answered nonchalantly. “It’ll be fun.”

You manage to evade the media scrum outside the event, having been swept up by Steph after getting out of the limo, and you wait for Freddie at the bar. When he enters the room, he searches for you and you watch, basking in the feeling of being wanted by him. His eyes finally land on you and a smile reaches his eyes as you wave the glass of liquor you’d bought for him in the air.

“Thank you,” he whispers as he steps up to you. His large hand settles against your back and he tugs you against his body, mere inches separating your lips. You hope he’ll kiss you. This is the moment you spent your nights daydreaming about, embarrassingly enough, but then he pulls away and you’re left feeling deflated

“Mr. Frederik Andersen.”

A man in a tailored suit steps up to shake his hand and you have a sneaking suspicion as to why he pulled away from you now. Freddie greets him, then his wife, and then the man looks at you. 

“And this must be your significant other.”

“Oh, no,” Freddie speaks, brushing off the mistake a little too easily. “This is a good friend of Auston’s, and myself.”

You swallow thickly, pride getting caught in your throat on the way down. There was a moment, a pause between Auston’s name and his, like he doesn’t want to admit there’s something there between the two of you. He places his hand on the small of your back once more. It feels foreign, like it doesn’t belong there, and you want to jerky away from him, but you grin and bear it for the sake of the event.

For the rest of the night, he charms everyone in the room while you sit at the table. You feel like you don’t belong, and maybe you don’t because Freddie’s done an awful job at making you feel welcome.

His eyes don’t ever really leave you throughout his orbit of the room, but he looks away for a moment when the DJ calls attention to the dance floor for the last slow dance of the night. When he looks over to your table in hopes that you’ll dance with him, you’re not there and he catches sight of you slipping through the doors to the hallway.

He rushes out to the hall to catch you.

“Baby.”

“Oh, I’m baby now,” you murmur to yourself. “Not Auston’s friend.”

“Where’ve you been all night, huh?” he asks, pressing you against the wall with his hips, clearly not having heard what you muttered. He’s smiling, but he sees the unhappiness in your features. He leans in to kiss you only to be shoved away. “What are you worried about? No one’s even out here to see us.” 

“I don’t want to kiss you in public,” you growl, ducking beneath his arm and disappearing into the bathroom.

You avoid him through your cab ride to the club and ignore him at the bar. Everyone notices how cold you’re being towards him because it’s unusual, even he expects you to land in his lap at some point. And you know that he’s still watching you while deep in conversation with Mitch and Morgan a few steps away, he’s still wondering what to do about the situation he’s found himself in.

“Fred’s in the dog house with his girl.”

“She’s not my girl, Mitchy.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Morgan scoffed. “You’ve been together for a bit, no?” 

“We’ve just been sleeping together. She’s too young for me.”

He thinks his voice is low enough, but there’s a lull in the conversation you’re having with Steph that allows you to hear it. She sees your ears perk up and your eyebrows draw together and worry etches across her features.

“Let’s get another drink,” she suggests. But you’re sure that another drink would send you over the edge, so you decline, saying that you’d rather get ready to head home. While she scampers back to Mitch, you gather your things. 

“Where are you going?”

Freddie’s just a step and a half away from you, eyebrows creased in concern as you stuff your phone into your purse. You don’t even spare him a glance over your shoulder as you answer. 

“Home.”

“Without me?” 

“Yeah, Fred, without you,” you growl, finally turning to glare at him. You march off, leaving Freddie in your dust to digest the words thrown at him, but he finds you again on the sidewalk.

“What’s wrong with you tonight?”

“I’m just not doing this with you anymore,” you announced, waving a hand between you. “You seem to think you’re the only one calling the shots here, Freddie, but I have feelings too! You can’t just come over and use me, fuck me, and then go around telling people that I’m too young for you. I’m not just somewhere to put your dick.”

Your words make his blood run cold and then he’s reaching for you desperately, but you step out of his grasp completely and his hands drop to his sides.

“And seeing as how poorly you’ve handled this situation, I am positive that despite the years between us, even I might be too mature for you,” you growl. “Goodbye, Fred.”

-

Freddie thinks you’re too young for him, but why should he give a fuck anyway?

That’s the conclusion he’s come to after being without you for almost a month.

He’s out on a date with a woman just a few months younger than him and he’s bored. He can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have you sitting across from him. He knows he’d be laughing, he knows you’d be trying to turn him on beneath the table, and he knows that he’d make love to you for the rest of the night after that.

Except he can’t have any of that because he fucked up, but the thought of you with him is all consuming and he ends up driving to your apartment after the date to try and salvage your relationship anyway.

“I want you.”

Those three words smack you in the face the moment you open the door to him. 

“I said I don’t want to sleep with you anymore, Freddie.”

“I want you more than that,” he speaks, taking another step into the apartment. You press a hand against his chest and lightly shove him back into the hallway. He tosses his hands up in frustration before carding his fingers through his hair. “C’mon, YN, will you listen to me?” 

“I’m listening.”

You hope that he can’t see through your glare. It’s hard to keep up a front when he’s standing in front of you for the first time in a month and he looks like that. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows and the pants he’s wearing are the type that hug his thighs and ass perfectly. You could climb him like a tree, and if you’re not careful, you would do it before he even began to grovel. 

“I’m an idiot.”

“Good start.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he sighs. “I don’t know why I let you go. I was on a date tonight and I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. She wasn’t you. I couldn’t do it.” 

There’s a pause and Freddie could hear his heart pounding in his ears, hoping you’d be willing to forgive him.

“Freddie, you could date hundreds of women, older than me, younger than me, older than you, the same age as you,” you list. “But you will never find someone exactly like me. Do you get that?” 

“Trust me, I do,” he murmurs, stepping forward as if he’s suddenly absolved of all the bullshit. You take another step backwards, keeping the distance between you, and he groans, head thrown back in frustration. Then, he drops to his knees right in the doorway. “C’mon, baby, what do I have to do?”

“Fred, get up.” 

“I’m begging here, sweetheart,” he coos in a soft voice. You roll your eyes, a laugh spilling out of your mouth involuntarily. And then he’s wrapping his arm around your leg and placing a kiss on the inside of your knee before creating a path of kisses up your thigh.

“I have neighbors!” you scold, a little pathetically, but a little frantically as you glance down the hall. When you look down at him again, see his blue eyes gazing up at you from between your legs, feel his breath fan across your core over your shorts, it sends a wave of goosebumps over your body.

“Let me in and I’ll make it up to you.”

You yank him up by the forearm and he comes stumbling along with you into the apartment, your lips meeting for the first time in a month.

“You have a lot of groveling to do.”

“This is just a start, okay?” he asks, hands finding their way beneath your shirt. “I’ll make it up to you a hundred different ways, or in a hundred different positions, whatever you want.” 

“I just want you.”

He throws you over his shoulder and carries you down to your bedroom, dropping you square onto the mattress where he looms over you, lips finding yours once more.

“Let me show you how good you are for me,” he whispers. “How good we are for each other.” 

He kisses down your neck, fingers toying with the hem of your t-shirt until he’s got it up and over your head. Your bra goes next and you moan as he sucks on your breasts. He continues peppering kisses along your stomach until his fingers curl beneath the band of your shorts and they join the shirt on the floor.

“Cute,” he remarks at the bow on the front of your lace panties. You blush, hand covering your face to hide it, and then you gasp because he’s placed a kiss against the cotton covering your core. 

“Fuck, Freddie.”

He tugs the panties down and tosses them on the floor with your other clothes. His tongue begins to massage your folds a moment later and you squirm at the sudden contact. Freddie drops an arm over your waist to keep you from moving, adjusting himself so your legs are over his shoulders.

He inserts two fingers into your cunt to work in tandem with his tongue and you grip the sheets at the added pressure, back arching in pleasure. He moves his fingers slow to start and then begins fucking you with them, faster and harder and soon, you’re gripping the sheets, back arching in pleasure. 

He sucks your clit, licks your folds, and curls his fingers in your pussy until your screaming, until you squirt into his mouth and your wet is dripping down his chin. Your chest is heaving when he pulls away with a smile.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” 

“Me neither.”

He crawls back up to loom over you and kisses you slowly, tongue swiping along your bottom lip before he tugs it between his teeth. 

“Why are you still clothed?”

“This is all about you,” he answers, kisses peppering along your collarbone and neck while you catch your breath. He pulls away and gazes at you playfully. “Should I not be clothed?”

“Well, I don’t know how you’re going to fuck me with your clothes still on.”

He laughs gruffly and then sucks in a deep breath as your fingers find his belt buckle. His pants are kicked off the bed moments later and you kiss as his shirt is unbuttoned and shrugged off his shoulders. Your hands dance along his skin, curling around his shoulders and tracing his muscles. It feels surreal to have him again, hovering over you as you kiss softly. It feels even better when he enters you slowly, softly.

Freddie can’t believe he ever thought he could live without you. How stupid of him to care about the difference of age when you were so perfect, so special, so you? 

“Fred, I missed you,” you sigh as he rolls his hips with yours, both of you on the edge of desire. He sighs into your neck.

“You have no idea, YN.”

Your orgasms come quicker than they ever have before and you’re seeing stars within minutes. He fucks you through both of your highs, lips only leaving yours for a moment to moan into your skin as he cums. He rolls off you after, but his arm wraps around your shoulders to pull you with him so your head rests against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your forehead. You responded with a content hum, wrapping your arm around his waist tighter. “I’m an idiot. You’re everything to me.”

“Is now a bad time to tell you that you’re too old for me?” you tease. He sits up immediately to glare at you. When you start giggling, he rolls his eyes and flips you onto your stomach. His lips skirt over your shoulders to your ear where he takes your lobe between his teeth before pulling away to whisper in your ear.

“Too old, huh? Do you need me to remind you how loud I can get you to scream my name?”

“Please, daddy,” you whimper, pressing your naked ass against his bulge. He groans and you know that you’ve got him right where you want him, and he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Freddie’s yours and you’re his, and there’s nothing that can come between the two of you—not even a couple of years.

[asparagus-in-a-cup]

its MY F/O list and I kinda wanna set it on fire 🔥🔥🔥

I had to force myself to Not Care bc god forbid we do anything simple in this house.. 🙄

Anyways: sharing. uhh I'm not too familiar with the concept; I've been told that like. its not caring whether someone else shares the same f/o as you I think? I'm not too sure, but I'd like to say that I. dont really care that much.

Self shipping used to be a pretty big coping mechanism for me in my early teens but I kinda stopped doing it after awhile. Now that I dont really need it to cope, its more of an indulgence now.

That being said, I will proceed to be Full Cringe and Full Cringe Only now get out /j

be prepared bc this is probably going to be. Unorganized and I've anxiously been sitting on it for months and I just. Dont want to care about it atm. I might fix it later.

Also literally like. I have so many different relationships with every character my dude so uhh fair warning abt that. if that ever comes up :P im not like. labeling my relationships with these characters really bc. yeah.

Anyways,,!

Fuck You My Child Is Completely Fine

The OG F/Os and Senior Partners of Mar's Sanity :D

Creepypasta

- Jeff the Killer

- Lulu

- Eyeless Jack (he stole my kidney -_-)

- fuck which one was it that the fandom decided they literally ONLY ate cheesecake??? was that EJ or Toby... mighta been Masky... god, its been awhile

- Laughing Jack/Laughing Jill

- Ben Drowned

- I'm conflicted is Dark Link a Creepypasta??

- Hobo-Heart my beloved 😩

The Legend of Zelda

- Link (literally almost every variation,, and also Dark Link :P)

- Sheik

- Midna (what? she's a milf what do you expect)

- Impa (specifically skyward sword and hyrule heroes 👀)

- G-Ganon... 👉👈 (I could take em- oh he mean in a fight 😳)

- GIRAHIM NO I DO NOT TAKE CRITICISM

- I think those were pretty much my mains... I'm probably forgetting a few

By Talos This Can't Be Fucking Happening

The New Ones..

Security Breach/fnaf series :P

- MONTY MONTY MONTY!!!

- Glam!Freddy!! :DD he's dad-shaped ok

- Glam!Bonnie 👉👈

- Glam!Chica

- Roxy

- Vannessa

- Lowkey Vanny too tho ;-;

- GREGORY MY FERAL CHILD WHAT ARE YOU DOING

- Sun/Moon but not in a horni way like. I Need a Nap lol

- (and none for Foxy, bye)

- (the puppet really be getting me in my feelings tho fr 🥺)

- (also rip the fnaf ogs ig sorry i dont fuck animatronics stuffed with dead children k thx)

Carmen Sandiego (reboot)

- Carmen (duh, we stan in this household)

- GRAHAM

- Tigress, ugh 😩

- Paperstar dont tempt me

- whatever tf Shadowsan and Lady Dokuso got going on 👀

She-ra (reboot)

- Adora/She-ra (another icon, we stan)

- Catra

- Scorpia

- Entrapta maybe??

- Hordak

- Horde Prime

- I'm a villain-fucker what can I say :P

DRAGON AGE INQUISITION HNNNG

- Dorian 🥺🥺🥺

- Iron Bull 🥺🥺🥺

- SERA!!! (the skrunly 🥺)

- Varic. Love that bastard

- H-hawke??? My mans just? showed up in the Fade to come save our asses?? Very sexy of him tbh

- Josephine 🥺🥺🥺

- CASSANDRA HOLY SHIT *swoon* (my straight girl crush ToT)

- F-fenris... (I havent played his game series tho, i just think he's neat..)

- Solas you stinky stinky rotten egg man (I cant believe I wasted my first three playthroughs on you -_-)

- Blackwall (*stands here with a 'WELCOME HOME CHEATER LIAR' sign*)

- Cullen (not a bad romance route... the best part was the dogs. I wanted dogs but SOMEONE had to go fuck it all up -_- looking at you, Warden yes this was ages ago yes I'm still. Very salty)

hhhhh theres probably more I'm forgetting I'll probably update this intermittently or something :P

ha maybe i should revamp my old S/Is or something

[marmosa]

hello 💕 i've just gone through your entire fred weasley and i absolutely love your writing and especially your dialogues, they feel v authentic and real xx i read that you have requests open so i'll leave you with an idea from my v detailed v self indulgent daydream cinematic universe starring fred weasley— post war (say a couple of years after) fred is the owner and manager of the hogsmead branch of the joke shop and sneaks into hogwarts to meet his fiancé, newly hired transfiguration (1/2)

thank you so much for the kind words and reading all my writing, i can’t begin to describe how much that means to me! i love the idea of fred sneaking into the castle to see his significant other, it’s so cute, i had to run a lap around my room just thinking about it. also in this house fred weasley never d worded, if you think he did, no he didn’t. also also, it got kinda sad at the end and i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for that to happen i- but anyways, hope you like it and thank you again for the compliment <3

word count: 1.6k

***

“Hey!”

Tink!

“Hey!”

Tink!

[y/n] looked up from the stack of papers arrayed on her desk and glanced around her study for the source of the noise, absolutely bewildered at who would possibly be bothering her at this hour. She prayed it wasn’t a student messing around with her, for she may have been a relatively new teacher but she wasn’t afraid to stand her ground against misbehaving kids.

The sound came again and this time she saw who it was her face lighting up before falling down as she scurried over to the window, unlatching the glass and pushing it open to find her fiancé sitting all high and mighty on his broom like this was a normal everyday occurrence.

“Fred Weasley! What in God’s name are you doing outside of my window? Why are you throwing stones at glass? Do you have any idea how high up I am?” She hissed, reaching for him, despite knowing full well he could only enter the room on his own accord.

He flew closer to the window and balanced himself on the ledge before grabbing her hand and hopping down onto the floor a giddy smile plastered on his lips, “I’m aware how high up this is, lest you forget I was one of the best Gryffindor beaters this school has ever seen.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You do realize you could just come in through the front doors right? McGonagall isn’t going to smite you down for visiting your fiancée,” she deadpanned, latching the window back shut.

“Whatever? If I recall correctly, me being on the quidditch team all those years back had you absolutely smitten, or am I wrong,” he retorted smugly, completely brushing past her statement about walking through the front doors.

[y/n]’s face fell into one of embarrassment as she pushed past him back to her desk, not wanting to fuel his ego any more than she usually did, “Even so, you still can’t be sneaking onto campus. Especially during school hours, you know how it is, I would rather you be turned away at the door than get escorted out by the collar of your robes.”

“But it’s always school hours! Honestly [y/l/n], your new position has really given you a stick up the arse,” He grumbled, leaning back against one of the desks across from hers.

“[y/l/n]?” She repeated, offense written all over her face. Despite not taking it to heart she decided to mess with him a bit for being so stubborn.

Fred’s face fell and he was quick to rush over and apologize, “You know that’s not what I meant! Technically you’re not a Weasley anyway until the paperwork is done legally, so I’m not wrong.”

“I’m telling Molly you said that and she’s going to ground you just like she did 6th year when you got caught nicking something from Filche’s office,” [y/n] pouted, sinking into her chair and crossing her arms.

“You’re terrible you know that,” Fred deadpanned grabbing her cheeks in his hands, “don’t you say a word to my mother or she’ll make me bake you a cake or something.”

“I would quite like that actually, maybe I will tell her,” she replied, biting back a smile.

“Oh, come on! You know George was the one who got all the baking skills! That’s why he’s in charge of all the candy at our shops!” Fred whined, squeezing her face together slightly to try and return the teasing.

“Even if it turned out burnt and gross, I’d still like it because you made it,” she stated plainly, leaning up to try and snatch a kiss.

“Rubbish,” He replied, indulging her and accepting the kiss, smiling down at her when she beamed up at him.

“Whatever you say Freddie, y’know-,”

“Mrs. Weasley? Are you here? I had a question for you.”

All the color drained out of Fred’s face as he recognized McGonagall’s voice from across the room, [y/n]’s features mirroring the same horror as she pushed him off her and shoved him under her desk so he was as out of sight as she could make him.

“Yes- yes! I’m here Minerva, how can I help you?” [y/n] stuttered out, sliding her chair in as far as she could without injuring her soon to be husband.

“Well, I wanted to ask how the preparations were coming along for the annual Christmas Ball? I know you’ve been kept busy with recent exams, but the plans are top priority if we want to keep the spectacular turn out of our ball the same,” McGonagall explained walking up to her desk.

“Oh! The plans are coming along just fine, I haven’t quite finished drafting them up yet, but as soon as I do I’ll have them brought to you right away for approval,”  [y/n] assured her, trying her best not to let on how nervous she now was, trying not to get Fred caught.

“Spectacular! And I expect to see you down in the Hall later? Professors have to arrive early today for some announcement preparation,” McGonagall continued, thankfully still unaware of the hidden person in the room.

“Of course, thank you for letting me know ahead of time,” [y/n] nodded, pretending to assort some papers on her desk.

“Lovely,” McGonagall smiled, heading out of the room, but stopping before she exited the room, “Oh, and tell Mr. Weasley that I say hello, he’s been rather quiet about his surprise appearances to our school recently.”

“Will do!” [y/n] called after her, releasing a breath she didn’t even know she was holding in as soon as the door shut.

“Okay, how come you get to call her Minerva?” Fred complained, crawling out from under the desk, no visible panic at McGonagall’s leaving statement.

“All professors do. Besides, you’re a trouble-maker in her eyes, a darling, but a trouble-maker, she wouldn’t dream of giving you that kind of power,” [y/n] giggled, reaching up to rearrange his  ruffled hair, as he’d decided to grow it out again once he’d graduated.

“Trouble-maker,” Fred muttered, rolling his eyes, “Well she’ll be seeing a lot more of me whether she likes it or not, so I’ll win that privilege, eventually.”

“Whatever you say darling,” she hummed, scooting back in to continue grading her papers.

“You’re ignoring me already?” he groaned, letting his chin rest on the top of her head, arms slinging over her shoulders.

“I’ve got work to do Fred, I’m a professor now. I’m surprised you even had time to visit me, you’re a business owner now after all, it always amazes me how you have the time for these spontaneous visits- not that I don’t appreciate them,” she assured him, setting down her pen and squeezing his hands.

“I own the business, so I get to make my hours, unlike you,” he replied, moving his head so he was peeking over her shoulder.

“Is that supposed to be bad?” she quipped, leaning her head against his shoulder so she could kind of see him.

“Bad for me! I miss you! You’re here far too much,” Fred mumbled, intertwining their fingers.

“Well winter vacation is coming up soon, so you’ll be seeing much more of me. Hopefully you don’t get too sick of me,” she giggled, pursing her lips when he passed her a suggestive grin, “Ah, don’t look at me like that, that is not what I meant.”

“But it is and you know it darling,” Fred hummed, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t get too cocky or I’ll come up with extra work to keep me here,” she warned, a teasing lilt to her threat.

“You wouldn’t. Besides even if you did, I’d kidnap you against your will. Also you wouldn’t hurt Molly like that, she always expects you for family festivities,” he replied simply, knowing she would never pass up an opportunity to spend time with him.  

“You’ve got me there. You know me so well,” she sighed, reaching back so she could toy with the hair at the nap of his neck.

“I’d hope I know you well, you’re about to be my wife,” he chuckled, shutting his eyes at the sensation of her soft fingers against his skin.

“Touché, love, touché,” she hummed in agreement, her free hand twisting the engagement ring situated on his finger.

“Anyways, I should probably leave you to it, with your boring paperwork and grading and all,” he sighed, standing tall, her hands sliding away from him and into her lap.

“It’s not boring,” she frowned, crossing her arms across her chest defensively, trying not to cave but ultimately failing when he gave her a raised brow, “okay, maybe it’s a little boring.”  

“I knew it. No worries darling, I know you love it here, I’m only teasing. See you soon though?” He mused, brushing a stray hair out of her face.

“See you soon,” she replied, grabbing his face and pulling him down for a sweet kiss, relishing in one another’s company for their limited time together.

“Farewell my love,” he announced, grabbing his broom and pushing himself onto the window sill, “see you around.”

“Fred wait!”

He laxed the position of his broom and turned around, an adoring smile stretching onto his lips as she pulled him for one last sweet kiss, placing a small object in his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked as she peppered a few last kisses around his face, trying not to let her emotions get the best of her.

“It’s the locket you gave me, I finally put a picture in it, thought it was time to return it to you,” she smiled, stroking his cheek lovingly.

“You’re astounding,” he muttered, tucking the charm in his pocket, “I love you.”

“I love you too, bye Freddie,” she waved as he kissed her softly once more and took off into the setting sun, “see you soon.”

[droogiesanddiscourse]

Snow Day with the Reservoir Dogs

This wasn’t requested, but a little self-indulgent piece as I am currently being bombarded with 11 inches of snow on the north coast! Anyways hope you enjoy and possibly can relate if you’re in the same spot I am now! 

Warnings: Mentions of sex, but it is pretty tame. Nothing explicit. Enjoy! 

Mr. Orange (Freddy Newandyke) 

• A snow day is literally just what the doctor ordered for you and Freddy. He’s been working an awful lot recently, and has been feeling bad for neglecting you.

• Obviously he wouldn’t neglect you on purpose I promise he just is very overworked give him a break please. 

• So he is so excited to spend an entire day with you !!! 

• Two words: binge watching. Every show, movie, and cartoon the two of you have been slacking off on watching? Prepare for a full day marathon of back to back entertainment. 

• Will make a tent out of the couch, chairs, blankets, and pillows. Freddy will even give the tent a little ✨spice✨by hanging up fairy lights and paper lanterns. It’s super cozy aw. 

• The two of you get takeout from your favorite local restaurant too !!! 

• He holds you close and doesn’t ever want to let go, realizing how precious these moments truly are. 

Mr. Blonde (Vic Vega) 

• Vic is the first one awake, and will definitely wake you up with gentle caresses and kisses to your neck.  

• Trust me, you are basically not leaving the bed at all the entire day. 

• Lots of slow, sleepy sex as Vic constantly sings praises about how good you are, how beautiful your body is, how much he loves you.

• He’s just super mushy and romantic when he wants to be, and snow days happen to be one of those days. 

• Too lazy to cook or order food, the two of you are more interested in each other. It’s a leftover night, you scrounge whatever you can find in your fridge. 

Mr. White (Larry Dimmick) 

• Turns off all his alarms. The two of you sleep in together as late as you want. 

• He makes breakfast for you. Literally whatever your request is, you get it. His treat. It’s not the best, and your food might be a little burnt, but he really tries. It’s the thought that counts! 

• He literally walks around all day in just his underwear and boxer shorts hehe ;) sorry not sorry... 

• Puts on some of his favorite records, and slow dances with you in the living room. If you have two left feet, he’ll laugh as he tries to teach and guide you around the room. The snow is just the perfect backdrop. 

Mr. Brown

• OH MAN he is a kid in a candy shop when it snows. Dude’s up at the crack of dawn, shaking you to wake up and get outside. 

• He’ll drag you out to go sledding, have snowball fights, build a snowman, etc. You always know it’s gonna be a good time with your boyfriend Mr. Brown when it snows. He will make snow angels side by side with you, holding hands. He finds it super cute. 

• Oh also he will bring out a disposable camera or polaroid (w/e he prefers) in the snow and takes cute pictures of the two of you. 

• Is a little shit and will show snow down your shirt / pants and laughs as you scream and playfully hit him. He thinks its hysterical though. Of course you get him back, can’t let something like that go unpunished. 

• Will keep the two of you outside all day until you can’t feel your fingers and your cheeks are flushed red. 

• Mr. Brown Makes a mean cup of hot chocolate at the end of the day. To cap it off, the two of you binge watch winter-themed horror movies until the early morning hours. 

Mr. Pink

• Snow days are actually one of the only days of the year that Mr. Pink sleeps in past the crack of dawn. No expectations, no obligations, just peaceful bliss. 

• Eventually he will wake up when he smells you brewing coffee, trodding down the steps in his PJs. You giggle at his bedhead, his hair sticking straight up. He just looks so domestic in these moments, completely opposite than the hardened professional Mr. Pink usually is. 

• The two of you will always make breakfast together on these special days - always blueberry pancakes made from scratch. One of Mr. Pink’s secret hobbies is baking, something he picked up from you. 

• Usually snow days are just chill, lazing around the house, and cuddling by the fireplace wrapped in blankets. 

• In the evening, the two of you go through a sightseeing walk around your town hand in hand, admiring the winter wonderland landscape together.

[rushingheadlong]

Make It Up (As You Go Along) - A Freddie x m!Reader fic

Summary: Freddie’s birthday is quickly approaching… and so is yours. The only problem is that Freddie doesn’t know that, and you don’t particularly want to tell him.

Words: ~2200

Tags: Male Reader, H/C, brief mention of a bad relationship with parents

Notes: Happy birthday to Freddie! And also happy birthday to me, because my birthday is also September 5th and as such I have written this absolutely self-indulgent birthday-themed fic as a gift for myself.

You regret the lie the moment that it slips out. You had been hoping that the subject of your birthday would somehow never come up, but with all the preparations for Freddie’s party in full swing it was only a matter of time before he asked you, “Oh, darling, by the way, when’s your birthday?” and when he did you just panicked.

“Oh, ah- May. May 14th,” you tell him… except that’s not really your birthday at all.

Freddie pouts a little. “So I have to wait half a year to spoil you rotten?”

You for a laugh and lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You say that as if you don’t spoil me rotten every day of the week anyway.”

“Well, I can’t help it when I have a gorgeous boyfriend like you,” Freddie says. He catches you around the waist before you can pull away and kisses you properly, and you let yourself melt against him a little as the lie fades from your thoughts.

And it is easy to forget about the lie. Freddie’s birthday, you’re given to understand, is always a huge production but he takes a certain amount of genuine joy in planning it and you love seeing him this happy. He keeps asking your opinion on decorations or invitation lists and you like being involved in it all. You’ve never been able to plan a proper birthday party before, and even if you know that Freddie will always just do whatever he wants to do you like seeing it all come together anyway.

Freddie’s party is scheduled for September 6th, a Friday night, but Thursday morning you wake up to find flowers and cards and gifts already streaming into the house. Freddie is in the lounge with a cup of tea and that’s where you join him as Phoebe and Joe sort through all of the deliveries.

“Good morning, my love,” Freddie greets you as you curl up next to him. You’re not nearly as much of a morning person as Freddie is and you let your eyes slip closed as you cuddle close against his side.

“Good morning,” you mumble in response.

Freddie laughs and kisses the top of your head. “I’ll have Phoebe bring you a cup of tea, alright?”

“Alright,” you say, though it comes out more like a soft slur of vowels instead of an actual word.

You don’t really fall asleep again, but you do doze off a little as Freddie asks Phoebe to bring you some tea and he accepts another stack of cards from Joe which he perfunctorily riffles through before setting aside. It’s cozy here at Freddie’s side, with only the sound of Phoebe and Joe talking in hushed whispers in the hall breaking the last of the morning’s quietness that’s still clinging to the house.

“Oh, Joe, dear, we don’t have any more room for flowers in here, take those somewhere else, why don’t you?” Freddie says, softly, so as not to disturb you.

“Sorry Freddie, but these- Well, these aren’t for you.”

“What do you mean they aren’t for me? Who are they for then?”

“The card says they’re for Y/N.”

It takes a moment for the words to register, but when they do it feels like someone dropped a bucket of ice water down your spine. You scramble to sit up, your stomach already twisting into knots, just as Freddie asks, “What? Why? What else does the card say?”

“Dear Y/N, We hope you have-”

“Joe, stop-” you try to say, but it’s too late.

“-a very happy birthday.” The color drains out of Joe’s face and he looks up at you, uncertain and apologetic.

“Birthday?” Freddie echoes, giving you a disbelieving look. “What do you mean, birthday?”

“They- It must be from someone who just wrote the wrong name on the card!” you say with a nervous laugh. “Obviously, they’re not really for me-”

“Sorry, Y/N. The card says they’re from your parents,” Joe says quietly.

You stand up and wrench the flowers from his hands and, yes, sure enough they’re from your parents. How they found out you were living with Freddie you have no idea - probably one of your sisters, and you’ll have to have words with them later. But that doesn’t help you now, with Joe standing awkwardly next to you and Freddie staring at you with the beginnings of anger starting to creep into his eyes.

“Birthday,” he says again. “You said your birthday was in May, Y/N. So why are you getting flowers from your parents now?”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want them-”

“This isn’t about the fucking flowers!” Freddie snaps, and Joe makes a quick escape out of the room. “This is about you, apparently, lying to me about your birthday! When is it, really?”

You gnaw on your lip, and look away from him, and debate throwing yourself out of the window to avoid this conversation.

“Y/N,” Freddie says. “When is your birthday?”

You swallow harshly and stare down at the floor as you finally come clean. “Today. September 5th.”

“Today,” Freddie repeats. “You- Your birthday is today. We share a birthday and you lied about it? Why?”

You open your mouth, close it, swallow again. The words are there but they stick in your throat and don’t want to come out, and you hear Freddie snort in disgust after a too-long moment of silence. “Right, well, let me guess then. You thought I’d throw some diva fit about having to share the spotlight with you, so you thought you’d just lie to me instead, was that it?”

“No! No, Freddie, no-”

“I thought you, of all people, would know that I’m not like that, but I guess I was wrong,” Freddie continues as if he didn’t hear you talking, and maybe he didn’t. You finally look up at him but he’s no longer looking at you, at least not directly. He’s staring down at the floor, his hands clenched tightly together, and even with his face partially hidden you can see the tightness in his mouth that tells you that he really is properly angry about this.

“Well, if that’s the sort of person you think I am, then you can get the hell out of my house,” Freddie says as he looks back up at you. His eyes are hard, his jaw is set, but there’s a real pain on his face too that cuts you to see.

And you’re angry now too, angry that Freddie is jumping to these conclusions instead of giving you one damn second to gather your thoughts and try to explain your actions to him. “If that’s what you want then fine, I’ll leave!” you snap. “Because I don’t fucking need to be with someone who’s so fucking self-centered that everything always has to be about him!”

Something flashes across Freddie’s face and he shifts, a little uncomfortable, but you’re on your own tirade now and nothing - not even Freddie fucking Mercury - can stop you.

“I don’t need you, Freddie! I don’t need this house or my birthday or these stupid flowers from my parents who don’t give a fuck about me anyway!” You throw the flowers onto the ground and the vase shatters, sending water and shards of glass and plant material flying across the floor, and causing Freddie to shout and jump to his feet.

“You want to know why I lied about my birthday? Because it doesn’t fucking matter! My birthday has never mattered! My family doesn’t care, my friends have never cared, and at this point I don’t fucking care either!” you yell at Freddie. “All I wanted was to enjoy your party and celebrate your birthday, because mine has never been important!”

You turn to leave, but Freddie grabs your wrist just as you reach the doorway and says, “Y/N. Wait, please, wait.”

You don’t turn around. You don’t want Freddie to see the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “What do you want, Freddie?” you ask, and it doesn’t come out angry anymore. Even to your own ears, you just sound tired.

“Come back to the sofa with me. Let’s talk about this properly, alright?” Freddie says gently. His thumb is rubbing along the inside of your wrist and you can feel your resolve, and the last of your anger, starting to crumble.

“Alright,” you relent after a moment.

You let Freddie gently coax you back around and his face crumbles when he sees the tears. “Oh, Y/N…” He reaches up and gently wipes them away, and you can’t hold back a small sniffle at his tenderness. He cradles your face in his hands and kisses your forehead and says, “I am so sorry for what I said, love. I didn’t mean a word of it, and I should have let you explain instead of jumping to conclusions.”

“I shouldn’t have lied to you,” you say, absolutely miserably. “I’m sorry Freddie, I panicked and I regretted it the moment I said it but I didn’t know how to take it back-”

“It’s alright, darling, I promise it’s alright,” Freddie cuts in before you can work yourself up too badly. “Let’s go sit down, alright? We’ll sit down and we’ll talk about this like the rational adults we always pretend to be.”

You manage a small smile at that and let Freddie lead you back to the couch. You don’t curl up against him like you did before - god, those half-asleep cuddles feel so long ago now - but Freddie takes your hand in his, and that’s alright for now.

“I’m sorry, Freddie,” you apologize again. “I shouldn’t have lied, I know that, I just… Well, I hate my birthday. My family never celebrated it, not really. Oh, my parents would make a show of taking me out to dinner at restaurants they chose and giving me practical, respectable gifts instead of anything I actually wanted…” You shake your head. “God, that makes me sound so selfish, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not selfish to want a little bit of attention on your birthday,” Freddie says, but you shake your head.

“I don’t want attention, though. That’s why I lied,” you tell him. “I don’t like celebrating my birthday. I don’t like people making a fuss over me, and every time I’ve tried to have a party my friends have all been busy anyway. I don’t like being given a ton of things that I don’t need and don’t want and have to pretend to care about so I don’t hurt other people’s feelings. I just want to have some time alone to do something nice for myself.” You manage to give Freddie a small smile and add, “Or else spend the day with someone I love.”

Freddie smiles back at you, but there’s still a hint of hurt in his eyes - and you only realize that it’s for you when he says, “I’m so sorry, lovie. I’m sorry that you’ve never had a birthday that you’ve enjoyed. If you don’t want to celebrate that’s perfectly alright but, darling, we could have done something. Phoebe could have baked your favorite scones for breakfast, instead of just mine. We could have made arrangements to go out to your favorite restaurant for dinner tonight, and I could have bought you your favorite flowers even if you didn’t want anything else.”

“Do you even know what my favorite flowers are?” you ask with a small, watery laugh.

“Peach roses,” Freddie says, without hesitation. “And tulips, in any color. And lilacs. And daffodils.” He does laugh a little then, and adds, “You like most flowers, but those are your favorites.”

“They are,” you have to admit, and you’re crying again but luckily Freddie is still there to wipe the tears away again. “I’m so-”

“If you apologize again, I will have to do something drastic to shut you up,” Freddie says, teasing. “It’s quite alright. I’m only upset that today is going to be entirely about me, when it should be about you as well, so if there’s anything you want today…”

“There isn’t anything, not really,” you tell him. “I just want to spend the day with you.”

“Well then, I think that can be arranged.” Freddie stands up and gently pulls you to your feet as well. “Let’s start off by going back upstairs so we can enjoy our birthdays together.” He looks at the mess on the floor from where you smashed the vase and adds, “And so this can get cleaned up.”

You look down at the mess and wince a little. “I should-”

“You should come upstairs with me,” Freddie interrupts gently. “Joe or Phoebe can handle it, and you can apologize to them later if that will make you feel better.” He kisses you, so tenderly that it makes your chest ache, and murmurs against your lips. “Come to bed, Y/N. Please?”

“Yes,” you breathe against his mouth, and you feel him smile against you - before he pulls away and, beaming, leads the way back up to the bedroom.

[sloppy-butcher]

Can I get some hcs for Freddy x reader who have like very love/hate reltionship? Like they annoy eachother constantly but still seek each others company. Thanks!

This is the first time I have ever tried writing for Freddy and to be honest, I am quite nervous I did him wrong. Please forgive any ooc characterizations i may accidentally give him - i tried my hardest to make him accurate to the 80’s version (yes, this one will be based on old freddy not the new one (2010 remake), hope that it okay <3) i also hope that you don’t mind if i make the reader a killer as i am only comfortable writing for freddy when the power dynamics are equal

Thank you for the request and i hope these are good enough for you 

Headcanons for The Nightmare (Freddy Krueger) with a Killer!S/O who have a Love/Hate relationship

When you are an obedient little dog, when you kill mercilessly and the Entity grows fat from your bountiful supply of food, the spider-god showers you with rewards. Most forms of these appreciations take a physical appearance (new and terrifying outfits to adorn during your daily workouts or new weapons for you to play with). But there were some gifts that were intangible, and otherworldly and oh so irresistible to you - dreams. The Entity lets you sleep if you do well in trials and sometimes even offers you sweet, beautiful dreams. They were indulging at first, so totally vivid in their detail and color that you could almost lose yourself completely in their daydreams. It was a spider web most wonderfully and intricately made. A labyrinth of the mind. But it did not take you long to notice the spider lurking in the corners of his creation.

You spotted him often hiding under the shadow of trees, just standing there in the corner of your eye - one look and he would vanish without a trace. You would have thought nothing of the strange occurrence had it had only happened once and in only dreams. During your walks in between realms, you’d spot the man through the treeline. He was unmistakable in his silhouette and in the way his eyes glowed a horrid orange. You did not fear him however, he was no worse a monster than you were. Rather you were annoyed by his presence in both reality and dreams. 

You bend down and pick up a rock, turning it over in your hands testing its weight and size. “Hey!” You shout at the man who halted his retreat into the dark, night wood at the sound of your voice. “Stay out of my fucking dreams, asshole!” You throw the rock at him, narrowly missing him and instead, striking a tree.

“Such a temper.” A hoarse voice coos from somewhere behind and you spin around to meet it. It was him, moving faster and quicker than air and appearing next to you, closer than ever before. You got your first good look at him. His skin was a sore pink leather and he smelled like smoke. “Trust me, sweetheart, I would if I could. Your dreams,” He takes out a hand covered in razor-sharp knives and mockingly strokes the hair out your face, “, are so boring.” You snatch his hand away from your face, barely noticing the sting of blades in your soft palm and the trickle of warm blood down your forearm. You did not grimace, did not cower, and did not back down. He grins at your defiant expression. “And here I thought you’d thank me for giving you the chance to live in such a wonderful world. I’m hurt,” He feigns agony, his free hand placed sorrowfully on his chest, “, good work always goes unappreciated.”

You scoff and show your teeth. “I would prefer nightmares if it meant I wouldn’t get to see you.” The man laughed and flexed his knife-fingers, fresh blood oozing out your wound.  

“Oh babe, you and me both. I don’t like this babysitter gig anymore than you do.” He leans closer grinning with his horrible yellow fangs, the scent of a recent kill seeping off his tongue. “I prefer nightmares anyway.” 

“You look like a nightmare.” You spit into his face, finally letting go of his weapon and glaring at him. He laughs again.

“You are a feisty one. I think you and I are going to get along fabulously.”

Of course, he did not heed your warning for that very same night you saw him again in your dreams. Though now, he made it a point, not to hideaway. He approached you and actively talked to you, following you around your dream like a resistant plague. He commented on your shit reality, on all the things you could have wanted to dream of, and yet you only wanted to be in an empty field at the brink of dawn. He shakes his head and degrades your poor taste with even more snarky comments. You knew you couldn’t do anything to him while in his dream but in the physical world - well, that is a completely different story. 

If he was going to bother you while you slept like a buzzing mosquito, you decided to bother him when you were awake. In the real world he was much less intimidating, that aura of cosmic power that bubbled around him while in a dream state, was not present in the night air and you smirked at his weakness. You mentioned his height, asking how anyone could be scared of such a small man. He’d lash out, swinging at you with both his blades and his harsh tongue.  He was easy to toil, easy to wind up but a task to deal with. Freddy could take a punch to his pride and deal out damage times 10. 1 mean-spirited remark deserves 10 more. 

Freddy thrived on this back and forth. Ordinarily, he would turn his nose up at the idea of bickering with another killer - sure, some of them were fun, simple minds with which to bend and manipulate in dreams but most were already so twisted in their own self-delusions that well, he just didn’t find them all that interesting. But your mind was sharp and quick, built in the skull of a hardened murder professional yet dainty enough to still yearn for the sunlight world of goodness. A perfect balance. It had been a very long time since last Freddy had had a conversation of equals - a real conversation where the table was not shifted in the favor of either one. If he said something that crossed a boundary or hit a nerve (a task he sought out to do almost every night) you would turn on him, shoot daggers at him with the sole intent of murdering his little ass. Sure, it never really scared him but there was no denying that in a way, to spare with an equal really turned him on. To be challenged. 

There were times when he would become too much. Like the static on a dead radio station, he would drone on and on about a certain topic he knew would heat your blood. Always poking his stick deeper and deeper into the bear until you’d bite. Luckily it was quite simple to turn him off - just don’t sleep. You never really needed to rest in the Fog anyway, tiredness never made its claim over your bones even after a long day at work. Sleep was merely a reward, after all, a gift that could be refused if so desired. If time could be recorded within the Entity’s world, then the longest you had gone without sleep, and without seeing that little creep, would have been 2 months. He had really pissed you off when in a dream he produced a small songbird and made you watch as he melted its skin off - all for sport. A sight that did not necessarily make your skin crawl but one that irked you. It was always a game with him, a competition to see who would break first and try to strangle the other. And, to be dead honest, it was starting to annoy you more than anything he could say or do. So you stopped seeing him, stopped dreaming, and stopped seeking him out in the woods. You were tired of always trying to be bested and frankly, his childishness was wearing you thin.

But there was no denying that in that quiet that ate up the space where Freddy used to stand, a strange loneliness would grow incredibly heavy and dreadful. You missed his rather repulsive company, his witty and sharp tongue always keeping you on edge and on your toes. There was no way you could stop your head from turning around to look for him, seeking out his small frame among the dark wood. It was lonely without the flies, silent and decaying slowly.

For the life of him, Freddy tried to move on. He had never tied himself to one person before, never allowed himself to latch on to anyone save for his favorite little toys. But with you it was different. It was fun to annoy you, it was fun to torment you in dreams. It was even fun when you reeled at him, hackles raised threatening to kill. It was exciting, it reminded him of the joy of being powerful and alive (in a sense). And when you never took his bullshit sitting down, when you'd raise to meet his call, oh how it set fire to his heart. To be challenged. He could feel himself wither away, the interest that you had sharpened only seemed to dull and break off in your absence. He’d hate to admit it, but he missed you. Missed your noise and missed that sweet dream of yours.

Both of you are too prideful to confess to the other that you were lonely. But when, one day, you find yourself dreaming a familiar vision, that built-up residue of solitude melted and you turned to face Freddy eagerly.

“Did you really think you could not sleep forever?” He crossed his arms over his gloating chest, a snake tongue flickering victories in between teeth. “I always get my prey.” You smirk, not surprised in the slightest by his rather rude welcome back. You look around at the grassy field surrounding you both shining a brilliant emerald, the sun feeling warm on your back, and the fresh, clean air carrying with it the scent of spring flowers. 

“Aw, you missed me, Frederick?” You tease him with his unused full name, casting a devilish side-eye to the dream-demon. You see a flicker of panic, alerting you that you had hit the nail on the head before he spits and loudly proclaims,

“Don’t be so far up your own ass!” His golden eyes gleamed pure hatred at you. “It's not a hat.” You laugh at the face of the fuming man, knowing that despite how his actions appeared malicious and distasteful, there was no feasible way to deny that the dream he had made for you was spectacular and expressed something deeper than just surface-level annoyance.