#Hope for the Future ❤ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thedivinetarot · 1 month ago

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I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you

What do you need the most right now?

☆ How to chose your pile? 🪔🪔🪔

☆ Future Spouse Delux offer 🦪🦪🦪

☆ Disclaimer:

This is a general reading. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't. If the energy check did NOT resonate with you, feel free to skip.

☆ Note:

- I decided to bring back the 3 pile readings.

- I have challenged myself to upload 4 reading this month instead of 1. And I'll be updating my tarot masterlist and there will be huge discounts and more tarot themes and options.

Lots of love {❤}

Arya

Pile 1 - The gates

1. Current energy:

Hello Angels, how are you? I hope you are doing well. Now let's get into the energy check. I see the energy of a young page here, perhaps you are someone who just started a small hustle and you are being very creative about. I see things like, crochet, air clay, and making accessories. Someone here aim to reach independence, I'm picking up on someone under 24 y.o. still trying to figure out their life, what they want and what they don't. Now, I see also, that life has been or still incredibly stagnant. Nothing new happen. Someone here might have met their own father or an old male figure. Perhaps, you asked for money. Or that male figure will call you unexpectedly and transfer money to you. I see that someone here is disconnected emotional and they lack discernment. Perhaps, someone here just finished their school or semester college and dealing with post exams fog were you just want to not think of anything. I see also, that if you are seeking a reply from a formal organization about job apply you might hear back from them. But overall, this pile current energy is very stagnant, someone here is bored lol. Others are trying to find their passion or use their passion to earn money.

☆ Placements for you:

Cancer, Taurus, pisces, Sagittarius, Aquarius. Venus in Virgo, sun in cancer and taurus, Sagittarius stallium. Dominant planets: Neptune, jupiter, moon, Venus. Sun or moon in the 2nd, 4th, 12th, 9th, 11th House in the chart.

2. What do you need the most right now?

Okay, What do you need the most is change. Perhaps, you have been seeing 555 or 5555 a lot on the clock or everywhere. Pile 1 you need change, you need to start something fresh and new. You need to get your life together and be connected more to you intuition. I feel like this pile need to listen more to their intuition, they need to be more connected to your intuition. Perhaps, your 3rd eye is blocked or stagnant. The energy there is not moving freely. It is clouded by thoughts, unbalanced feelings and a little bit of frustration. I see that you need to listen more to your inner child. Someone here abandoned their inner child and stopped doing the things that your inner child enjoy. Watch your favourite cartoon as a child, write a cute notes for yourself. Buy yourself flowers and most importantly start sensing abundance around you. Someone here want to be so rich, so independent financially but in order for you to reach there you need to nourish the abundance inside you. I see that your financial state will increase rapidly during winter this year, think September to December. You'll be recognized for your efforts. Yeah also, you'll be known for something creative. Perhaps art, painting, PowerPoint, canva creative writing, poetry. Something creative that will help you get recognition and money.

3. Message:

You already know the answer, stop biting more than you can chew. Direct the energy in one path, you'll be burnt out if you keep doing this.

Pile 2 - Garden

1. Current energy:

Hello dears, how are you? I hope you are doing well🤍. Now, I started coughing and my throat hurt. Someone here perhaps, is either was cleaning, vacuuming their house/room or recovering from cold. What a delicious energy pile 2, I like this. This one is the opposite from pile one, this pile’s energy is very prosperous and happy. I see that someone here is trying to build a healthy inner dialog about themselves. Perhaps, you are repeating affirmations, looking at yourself differently. And someone here is trying to connect more to their sensuality. I see that you have finally given up on your outdated beliefs about love and romantic connections and how they should be. I see that you are adopting more healthy views about relationships especially the romantic ones. You are trying to be as grounded as possible when it comes to that. I see also, that you are trying to connect with your inner child more. Unlike pile one, they are abandoning their inner child but nevertheless they are trying. Anyways, I see that you have a very balanced feminine and masculine energy. Someone here mastered the art of acting in their divine feminine and masculine. I see that you are the delicate blind of a rose but as hard as a diamond. I see that you are manifesting a huge change. Perhaps, relocation. Omg I teared up, I'm so proud of you. Someone here have gone through an ending in a situation that took all the energy from them and now you are looking toward the future with hope and balance instead of hopelessness. I'm getting that you invested emotionally in a connection but the ending was so bad you started healing your sense of self and grounding in reality, fleeting romance is no longer your thing. I see that you might either meet someone with better financial state than you, someone who is serious about relationships, possibly older. That you might end up marrying. Or, you might attend a wedding soon or someone send you a wedding invitation. Anyways, but generally no matter how much you'll wait for that to manifest, you'll get it. Just be patient dear. Also, your throat chakra is unbalanced, try to hum, and clear it out.

☆ Placements for you:

Aquarius, Aries, pisces, Scorpio. Venus in Aries and Scorpio. Sun in Aquarius. Pluto conjunct the ascendant. Dominant planets in pluto, neptune, Venus, and sun. A stallium in the 1st, 11th, 12th, 8th House.

2. What do you need the most right now?

Now, this is huge. You need to surrender. Stop trying to figure things out. You are guided and you are exactly where you need to be. I see that the universe be like "nah he/she/they are not ready, but them back in the oven" and you are like "why is my life is not moving or my manifestation is not materializing??". It's funny but... There’s a bigger picture you are not seeing. Stop pushing forward, the universe want you to surrender to the flow. I mean yes you can still invest in yourself, self love and self concept but when it comes to other things you need to know that you are being guided to a higher mission. I see that you'll get a letter from that person you invested in. But be careful of reignite the connection. It won’t be built on the same values, or same emotional wavelength. It might also, not be the healthiest thing you will be in. And in case they reach out. It is up to you to reply or not. But I'm just telling you that it won't be healthy or as you expect. There will be power struggles, attachment problems and even control. Be careful, I don't want you to go through that❤. Also, for God's sake pile 2. Listen to your spirit guides. They are sending you signs and synchronicity stop ignoring them. That's everything I have for you dear. Take care💕.

3. Message:

You are being guided to higher mission. Surrender. We have got you.

Pile 3 - Navy Crystals.

1. Current energy:

Hello guys, how are you? I hope you are doing well. Now, let's get into your reading. I see that someone here is very focused on the earthy matters. Think health, nutrition, wellness, working out etc. I'm getting someone is pouring all their energy into their physical well-being which is so great. I see that you are investing financially in yourself, cotton clothes? Check ✅, working out? Check✅, skin care? Check ✅, being the hottest person in the room? Check ✅. I see that you are shining brighter than any sun and everyone is starting to see that. I see also that you are sunbathing a lot these days. Perhaps, going to the beach or it can be as simple as setting in a sunny spot in your house to recharge, also I see you going to work, asking care of yourself and enjoying your life in general. I see that you started seeing people for who they are which in return made you stop chasing validation from them and you started putting boundaries between you and them. Someone here was living with a narcissistic parent and you relocated away from them and now you are like "God finally PEACE!". I see that your apartment or house or even your room is the most sacred sanctuary in this world. You dance, you breathe, you are safe. Looking back to how far you have become. Your nervous system? healed, you healed and as Lana said "there's no more nights, blue skies forever". I see that you have finally got rid from self-doubt, being told "not enough" and unhealthy attachments. You are on a higher frequency. Omg, I feel so happy for you I started tearing up. Someone here, perhaps is chasing or trying to pursue you and you are like "No sir/Madame, I'm very happy on my own". I see you feeling very happy you barely think of anyone else because this is finally the life you dream of and became true. Now, you are at a crossroads. The universe is holding its breathe for you to chose but no matter what you chose it'll lead to stability and happiness.

☆ Placements for you:

Pisces, Virgo, Capricorn. Air signs (Libra, Gemini, Aquarius). Venus in Virgo, mars in Capricorn. Dominant planets Venus, Saturn, Mercury. Sun or moon in the 12th, 6th, 10th, 7th, 11th, 3rd house in your chart.

2. What do you need the most right now?

Oh, okay... I think you need to stop carrying everything on your shoulders. Some of these burdens? Not even yours. Passed down through generations, absorbed like emotional waters so nope. Let them go dear, it's time to let them go. You’re being called to invest wisely and not just in yourself. Maybe it’s learning about the stock market, Bitcoin (if your intuition says so), or even something creative and grounding like pottery or painting. Do something that stirs your soul and stacks your legacy. Now, romantically speaking, I see someone knocking at your door like “pls let me in” and you're just sipping your iced coffee like “Mmm, I’ll think about it” before ghosting them to go dance in your joy and peace😂. Another plot twist: a father figure or older male energy might try to “find someone for you” and you’ll ghost them too, because it’s giving ✨inconvenient✨. Whether this is you now or your soon-to-be, your energy is crystal clear honey: You're not in the mood for courtship unless it's courtship of your dreams, your peace, your empire. Because what you really need right now is to focus on building something lasting. Something legacy-worthy. Something that whispers, "I was here, and I made it beautiful." I love that for you dear, so now go ghost people who want to control the narrative, force you do things you don't want to. And enjoy your tea lol. Take care and thank you for reading this💕.

3. Message:

Build your own legacy. Do sorcery and fck the system.

Post date: 4th of June 2025 - Wed

*Feedback is appreciated.

1 ✅ out of 4 {Posted}

#thedivinetarot #free tarot #tarot community #free divination #pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #divination #divination readings #tarot pac #tarot reading #pick a photo #free pac #pac

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paddockletters · 9 months ago

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secret's out | lewis hamilton smau

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader summary: lewis accidentally reveals his secret relationship with you in an instagram story, sparking fan frenzy. request: yes/ thank you so muchhhh! author’s note:hey anon, i really loved and enjoyed writing your idea! thanks for you request and hope you like it and and sorry it took me too long❤

lewishamilton

lewis' imessage

y/username

liked by lewishamilton, f1 and 2,467,095 others

yourusername: i guess our secret has been reveled bt none other than my husband...

comments...

georgerussell63: you guys definitely made that podium moment legendary. Wishing you both all the best! 💪🏼❤️

danielriccirado: You guys, first you hid your relationship and then your wedding and you didn't even invite us…. I'm hurt

user1: the fact that george is his teammate and he didn't even know that lewis was married 😭😭

user2: ok, we already knew that lewis was very private but this, THIS is another level

charles_leclerc: took you long enough, Lewis! Wishing you guys all the happiness! 🥳

user3: can we just appreciate the casual hard launch AND a kiss on the podium?? absolute power couple energy 💯

user4: he way Lewis looked at you during the podium 😍 He’s been in love the whole time!!

user5: he fact that Lewis called you his wife on his story and we all lost it 🤣🤣 Congrats on your not-so-secret love anymore!

y/username

liked by lewishamilton, f1 and 3,456,955 others

yourusername: this secret and announcement took us less time this last time

comments:

lewishamilton: Can’t wait to meet our little one. Over the moon with you, love

user6: BABY HAMILTON?! Oh my God, I’m crying. This is the cutest news ever!! 😭🍼

georgerussell63: Congratulations!! Can’t wait to meet the future world champ! 🍼🏆

landonorris: BABY HAMILTON??? Alright, I’m officially shook. Congrats, guys! The paddock just got a whole lot more fun! 😂❤️

user7: Lewis is gonna be a dad??? IM NOT OKAY!!! CONGRATS!! 🥺❤️

danielricciardo: A little racer on the way? YES! Can I be the fun uncle? 😎🍼

user8: A podium celebration baby??? 👀 Looks like we know how y’all celebrated that win! 🤭

user9: he timeline is connecting… podium celebration = baby Hamilton?? You sneaky lovebirds! 😂💛

charles_leclerc: Wow, huge congrats!! The grid’s about to get a little bigger 😄

user10: OMG this baby is about to be more stylish than all of us. Already living their best life before birth! 👶🏽✨

Lewis' podium

The energy in the paddock was electric as Lewis’s car crossed the finish line, securing him a spot on the podium for the first time in what felt like ages. I could barely contain my excitement as I watched from the sidelines, surrounded by a sea of cheering fans. The moment felt surreal, and my heart raced as Lewis climbed out of his car, a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

As he approached me, still wearing his helmet, I couldn't help but notice the way the crowd erupted in applause and shouts. The deafening cheers seemed to fade into the background as he got closer. “Honey, I’ve done it!!” he shouted, his voice slightly muffled but filled with uncontainable joy.

The adrenaline coursing through my veins made me feel invincible. I laughed, my heart swelling with pride as I reached up to remove his helmet. The instant his face came into view, I felt the warmth of his excitement radiate between us. The crowd’s energy shifted, anticipation crackling in the air as they sensed something special was about to happen.

Lewis leaned down, his eyes locked onto mine, and in that electric moment, he kissed me deeply, right there in front of everyone. The world around us disappeared; all I could feel was the warmth of his lips and the deafening roar of the crowd as they cheered for us.

From that day forward, we became the couple everyone adored. Fans began sharing videos and photos of the kiss, turning it into an iconic moment.

As the weeks passed, our relationship was the talk of the town. But it wasn't long before the news of our little family surprise came to light.

It was late, the dimmed lights in our living room casting soft shadows on the walls as I paced back and forth. The small plastic stick in my hand felt heavy, like it held the weight of the world. My heart pounded as I stared at the two pink lines that confirmed it—I was pregnant.

I had imagined this moment so many times, rehearsing how I would tell him, but now that it was real, my mind was a blur of emotions. Excitement, fear, happiness—everything at once.

Lewis had just gotten home from the gym, his usual easy smile lighting up his face as he stepped inside. He dropped his gym bag by the door, not yet noticing the turmoil in my eyes.

"Hey, love. Everything alright?" He asked, walking over to kiss me on the forehead, his hands automatically settling on my waist. But as he looked down at me, his brow furrowed in concern. He knew something was up.

I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hands on me, grounding me. "Lewis, I… I need to tell you something."

His eyes softened instantly, the worry easing away. He pulled me closer, concern still flickering in his gaze but now mixed with curiosity.

"You’re scaring me a bit, babe. What’s going on?"

I bit my lip, the words almost stuck in my throat. My heart raced as I reached for his hand, slipping the positive pregnancy test into his palm. He looked down at it, confusion crossing his face for a brief second before realization hit him like a wave.

His eyes widened, flicking from the test to me and back to the test again. "Wait… are you serious?"

I nodded, tears springing to my eyes as a nervous laugh escaped me. "Yes, Lewis. We’re going to have a baby."

For a moment, it was like time stood still. He stared at me, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Then, without warning, he scooped me up into his arms, spinning me around as a wide, joyful laugh escaped him.

"Are you kidding me?!" He was grinning from ear to ear, his excitement so contagious I couldn’t help but giggle, too. "We’re having a baby?!"

"Yeah… we’re having a baby." I nodded, my heart swelling as I saw how happy he was.

Lewis set me down gently, but his arms stayed wrapped around me, his forehead resting against mine.

"I can’t believe this," he whispered, his voice full of awe. "You’re going to be the most amazing mom, you know that?"

"And you’re going to be the best dad. Our little one’s going to be so lucky." I smiled, feeling the butterflies in my stomach.

He pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes, his expression soft and full of love.

"This is the best news I could’ve ever imagined. I love you so much."

"I love you too," I whispered back, my voice catching with emotion.

Lewis placed a hand on my stomach, still grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. "Our little secret," he said, his voice hushed, as if speaking too loud would make it any less real.

As the initial shock and excitement settled in, Lewis and I spent the rest of the evening curled up on the couch, talking about everything that lay ahead. The glow in his eyes hadn’t dimmed one bit; if anything, it had grown brighter with every moment.

"I still can’t believe it," he whispered, running his fingers softly over my stomach. "We’re actually having a baby."

I laughed, leaning my head against his shoulder. "It’s real, Lewis. You’re going to be a dad."

"You know, now that I think about it, when do you reckon we… you know, made this little one?" A playful smirk spread across his face.

I rolled my eyes at his cheeky tone. "Really? That’s what you’re thinking about now?"

"Well," he chuckled, nudging me slightly. "It’s not every day you find out you're going to be a dad. I’m just curious." He paused, tilting his head as if considering the options. "I mean, we’ve been busy lately…"

I snorted, shaking my head. "Busy is an understatement. We travel all the time."

Suddenly, realization dawned on him. His eyes widened, and I saw the gears turning in his head. "Wait… what about Monaco? You remember? After that podium…"

I froze for a second, my mind flashing back to that night. The celebration had been wild—Lewis had just gotten his first podium in a while, and we were on cloud nine. The champagne, the excitement, the adrenaline… and later that night, when we finally got back to our home…

I fele my cheeks flush. "Oh my God, Lewis."

He grinned like a Cheshire cat, clearly putting it all together. "That’s when it happened, didn’t it? The night of the podium celebration! No wonder the timing makes sense."

I covered my face with my hands, laughing as the memory came flooding back. "I can’t believe this! You’re right. That’s when it happened."

Lewis burst out laughing, clearly delighted by the connection. "No wonder I felt so invincible that weekend. Turns out, we had a little extra reason to celebrate!"

I playfully swatted his arm, though I couldn’t stop laughing either. "We’ll never live this down, you know. People are going to figure it out, and the teasing is going to be relentless."

He shrugged, still grinning like a fool. "Let them talk. They can tease us all they want. As long as I’ve got you and this little one, I don’t care."

I smiled, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his words. "You’re such a sap sometimes, you know that?"

He chuckled, kissing the top of my head. "Only for you, love."

As we sat there, wrapped in each other and in the realization of what was to come, I couldn’t help but think about how crazy our journey had been so far. And now, with a baby on the way, it was about to get even crazier. But with Lewis by my side, I knew we could handle anything—even the endless teasing from our friends and fans.

"Just wait until the guys hear about this," he said with a wink, already anticipating the chaos to come.

I rolled my eyes again but smiled. "Oh, I’m sure they’ll never let us forget it."

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blackcat-star · 3 months ago

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[Married] Someone who loves you.

Husband!Jinwoo x Fem!Reader.

« First night | Wiege »

__________________________________

"I hope my future lover will peel shrimp for me during meals, remember my favorite dishes, and always help me open water bottles."

You rest your chin on your hand, your eyes dreamily looking into the distance as you talk to your friends. Everyone is talking about the type of future boyfriend they want.

"Why do we have to do that? We have arms and legs, we can do it ourselves. What's the difference?"

You just smile without answering anything.

It's different.

It's true that you can do it for yourself, and you don't force your future lover to do it. But it would be great if that person could do it without you asking.

If you've decided to stick with someone, it means that you want to sit down and eat with that person forever. Through meals, we can see something about a person's personality.

That's when it's no longer just a matter of eating.

__________________________

Someone who loves you deeply will not allow you to face difficulties. Your husband Sung Jinwoo shows this quality in every way.

_________________________

"You need to slow down your eating to avoid choking." Jinwoo stopped you from eating too quickly when you eat like you are about to protect your food from being stolen. He gently placed a carefully peeled shrimp in your bowl, and meticulously removed all the veins.

Jinwoo was always like that. He always paid attention to the little things.

On the dining table, almost every dish had his share, only the shrimp dish almost only had the shell left. Jinwoo was in no hurry to eat, the first thing he did after he pulled out the chair for you was to sit at the table, thoughtfully pour you a glass of water, and peel the shrimp for you.

"You need to eat along with me. Don't work only to prepare the shrimp for me."

"I don't need to rush. I'll have my meal once I finish my job." Jinwoo responded casually as if preparing food for others was his daily routine.

Jinwoo always puts you first, and there will never be any exceptions. Whether he can eat or not is not as important as making sure you have a delicious and nutritious meal. He feels happy when he sees you can eat well.

Your husband loves you very much.

He remembers every dish you like, without you having to ask when you go to a restaurant. He will definitely order what you want to eat, what you like to drink. Even if you don't tell him anything, he will have a way to know.

You ask how, he answers "Because I love you and care about you, so I know."

Because you are his most precious treasure, he wants you to receive the best.

Every time he goes to work, he will always put a lunch box in your bag, and an open bottle of water to make sure you don't have trouble if the bottle cap is too tight. He will stick small notes, reminding you :

'Honey, remember to eat everything and don't skip meals, I love you'. From the man who simps you the most ❤

You chuckled, finding this is so silly and yet adorable at the same time.

He cares more about your health than he cares about his own.

When you were pregnant with your first child, he just smiled and accepted the sharing of strange food combinations that you craved during pregnancy, no matter how bad they were.

He would eat it and smile and nod in approval and you would be proud that you found a new dish.

Then after you gave birth, you tried it again and wondered why you could eat it and why Jinwoo didn't throw up immediately.

Because he didn't want to ruin your excitement and joy. He wanted to make you happy and safe before all else.

Jinwoo finds it hard to speak his feelings but shows his emotions through what he does.

Your happiness through cooking will make him feel very happy and pleased.

Jinwoo feels at peace as soon as he sees you preparing food in the kitchen after his tough day at work. Your busy actions and focused energy make him feel better as he enters the home. As you prepare food the delicious smells spread through the room making Jinwoo feel at peace and welcome.

He leans against the door frame with his back while keeping his posture open yet alert as he observes you steadily. The way you meticulously cut vegetables, the way you carefully season the spices - all of those things make him happy. Not because the food is delicious, but because he knows you're putting all your feelings into each dish for him.

"You're back? Wait a little longer, it's almost done!" You look at him with a bright smile as you face him.

Jinwoo stepped closer to embrace you from behind with his chin on your shoulder. He spoke with a rich and comforting voice as he said "What can I do to assist you?"

You laughed, pushing him lightly. "Just sit still and eat well."

Jinwoo took your hand in his and felt the pleasant heat that came from your skin. For him the best moment was returning to his home while you waited for him.

When sitting at the table, Jinwoo never rushed to eat. He would watch you scoop him a bowl of soup, and listen to you talk about how you made it. The dishes didn't need to be too elaborate, just the taste of home was enough. He ate each bite, slowly feeling the warmth creep into his heart.

"Is it delicious?" You blinked at him, waiting.

He smiled happily, his eyes filled with love as he looked at you.

"Yes, everything you cook is delicious. My wife is the best."

You smile affectionately.

You have found the right person. You have found the partner you have always wanted, someone who cherishes you, loves you with all his heart.

Someone who is not afraid to get his hands dirty and peel shrimp for you, someone who can remember every thing you like, always makes you feel warm and loved. Someone who pampers you, is happy to eat the food you cook, makes you feel like you are the most special person in the world.

You don't need anything more, having him is enough.

_________________________

Part of LIFE WITH YOU.

__________________________

#sung jinwoo #jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x y/n #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung #jinwoo sung x reader

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ninisdollie · 2 months ago

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party 4 you - nishimura riki 𓈒ིུ

“In which reader bumps into her ex in a party, and suddenly all the heartbreak and feelings come to life again.”

‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❤︎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ͏͏✧ Content:

fem! reader x ni-ki, exes to lovers, cursing, a little bit of angst, a lot of emotions, suggestive but no smut, drinking, fluff, both ni-ki and reader are pretty criers lmao

hate comments will be deleted and blocked, likes and reblogs are appreciated !!

You stared at the glowing message on your phone screen for the third time that hour.

“It’s just a party, babe. You need this.”

Maybe you did. Or maybe you just needed to stop thinking about him.

Your finger hovered over the RSVP like it might burn you. You already knew he’d be there. Ni-ki always showed up to these things, along with his friends, like the social butterfly he was, charming everyone in the room like he didn’t carry a single piece of you in his pockets anymore.

You shifted in your bed, knees curled to your chest, blanket tucked under your chin like armor. The room was quiet, but your mind wasn’t. It hadn't been quiet in a long time, not since the day you left him standing in his living room, jaw clenched, eyes glassy, silence stretching between you like it could snap.

It had been a year.

A year of no texts. No accidental likes. No closure.

He wasn’t a stranger. That was what made it worse.

You’d known Nishimura Riki since you were fifteen. High school sweethearts, the kind people thought would get married someday. He walked you home when it rained, held your hand under the lunch table, memorized your coffee order before you even knew it yourself. He called you "his future" once, whispered it in your ear after prom, his mouth warm against your skin like a promise. You had spent years with him. Built routines and futures and secret traditions. Shared playlists and toothbrushes. Argued over which marvel movie was better and made up with forehead kisses on his bedroom floor.

He felt like home once, he was home to you. Your longest relationship, and your worst breakup.

You couldn’t even remember the last thing he said before the silence swallowed you whole. Something about needing space, something about how he was tired. Or maybe it was you who said it. You had both been tired, bruised from trying too hard to fix something that didn’t want to stay whole.

Still, loving him never stopped.

That was the part you couldn’t explain to anyone. How even now, a year later, the thought of bumping into him felt like pressing on a wound just to make sure it still hurt. How even now, you'd still dreamt about his hands, his smell, his smile, the way he teased you, the way he touched you, the way he made you feel.

“You’re not dressed,” your friend said from your doorway, arms crossed and eyes already rolling. “Don’t make me drag you out of bed.”

You blinked up at her, biting your lip, unsure.

“I don’t know if I should go.”

She sighed, walking in and tossing something slinky and black onto your sheets.

“You should. You need to. It’s been a year. You might not even see him, the house is huge.”

You nodded like you believed her. It was true, in part, Jake's house was really big and it would probably be packed of people from all campus, but still, the universe had a history of being cruel to you. And if you even got a sight of Ni-ki you didn't know how you would react, the thought only made your stomach twist.

She disappeared to finish getting ready, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You looked at yourself in the mirror and didn’t recognize the girl staring back. She was a little older now. A little more tired. A little less hopeful.

Some part of you wanted to see him.

Even if it was just to know he still existed in the same world as you.

You pulled on the dress. Did your makeup with shaky fingers. Told yourself this was just another night. Just another party.

The house was loud. Too loud.

Bass thumped through the walls, vibrating in your ribs as you stepped past the threshold, eyes already scanning the crowd on instinct. Your friend disappeared within minutes, swallowed by music, bodies, and a red solo cup. You didn’t follow her. You couldn’t.

You hovered near the kitchen instead, fingers wrapped tightly around a half-melted drink, heart beating too fast for someone standing still.

It smelled like perfume, sweat, and faint memories.

This was his best friend's house, every corner of the place felt like a landmine. The hallway where he used to press you against the wall, kissing you breathless. The back porch where he once told you, “I’ve never loved anyone this much.” The upstairs bathroom door, still chipped from the time you had a stupid argument and he accidentally slammed it shut too hard and came back ten minutes later with a shaky apology and a bag of gummy bears.

You should’ve left. You still could.

But your friends were right, you needed this. Not only for him, but for yourself, to prove yourself that you could live with this, that someday, it would all pass.

The music thumped, deep and heavy, reverberating through the floor and vibrating in your chest as you moved around the house. The party was in full swing now, people laughing, dancing, talking in tight groups. It should have been easy to get lost in the noise. To forget. To let yourself feel something that wasn’t this heavy, suffocating ache.

But it wasn’t easy.

Your friend, Rei, pulled you toward the kitchen with a grin, passing a new drink into your hand as if it was supposed to fix everything.

"You’re not going to stand around looking like a ghost all night, right?"

“Just… let me be, okay?” you muttered, forcing a smile, hoping it was convincing.

Rei didn’t seem to buy it but didn’t push either.

"Alright, alright. Just don’t go hiding in a corner again. Let’s at least pretend we’re having fun tonight."

You let yourself be dragged, but your heart wasn’t in it. You tried to lose yourself in the beat, in the movement, in the rhythm of the crowd. You swayed your hips, let your hands move through the air, pretending you weren't still thinking about him, about the inevitable.

But just as you turned to keep doing exactly that, you froze.

He was there.

Ni-ki.

Across the room, laughing at something someone said. Cup in hand. The same silver chain resting at the base of his throat, the one you gave him for your anniversary. He looked good, too good. Taller, maybe. A little broader. His hair was black now, you always used to tell him that was your favorite color on him, it was a bit shorter too. Like time had been kind to him while it only made you softer around the edges. He looked different, but it was still him. The boy who had loved you with everything he had. The boy who had torn your heart out when it all crumbled.

Your breath caught in your throat. He hadn’t seen you yet. But you saw him. And everything inside you went still.

It wasn’t dramatic. No slow-motion moment. No spotlight cutting through the dark. He didn’t even look in your direction. He was just… there, across the room, half-shadowed by the gold-tinted lights strung across the ceiling.

You turned your back to him and forced yourself to laugh at something your friend said. You fixed the strap of your dress. Took another sip of your drink. You focused on the ice melting between your fingers, the way it stung just enough to distract you.

You didn’t dare look again.

But you felt him.

Like gravity. Like pressure in your chest that hadn’t existed moments ago.

You tried to play it cool, smile the way you used to before everything fell apart. You leaned against the counter like you belonged here. Like you weren't unraveling slowly beneath the surface. You kept telling yourself you wouldn’t look. That he didn’t matter anymore. That the ache in your chest was just old muscle memory.

But then a familiar laugh floated across the room, his laugh, and it cracked something open inside you.

You knew that sound. You used to be the reason for it.

Your breath hitched.

A hand brushed your arm, pulling you back into the moment, asking if you were okay. You nodded too quickly, smiled too wide.

“Just gonna… find the bathroom,” you said, your voice too light. “Be right back.”

You didn’t glance back as you slipped down the hallway, heart pounding like you'd just run a race.

You hated that you still felt this way.

That after everything, after all the nights you'd forced yourself not to cry, after pretending for so long that you were okay, seeing him for five seconds could still shake you to your core.

You took a deep breath. Then another.

You’re fine, you told yourself. It’s just a party. It’s just a boy. You don’t love him anymore.

The apartment was cold, painfully so.

A stillness had crept in like a fog, dense and unmoving, wrapping around your chest until breathing started to feel like effort. You sat on one end of the couch, legs folded beneath you, cradling a mug that had long since gone cold. Across from you, Ni-ki sat with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it held some kind of answer.

You just had an argument, the third that week, and it was only thursday. It had been like this for months, he was distant, you were sensitive, it didn't feel the same anymore, and you knew he was avoiding talking about it, but you also knew he felt it too. He responded late, he stood in the field practicing more than he should've, he made excuses for your weekly dates. And you, you were always defensive, mean even, you didn't ask him anymore about his practice, you didn't even go to his last game.

The silence had already said everything.

But you broke it. Your voice came out cracked, barely above a whisper.

“We’re not okay, are we?”

He didn’t look up. Just clenched his hands together a little tighter, eyes fixed on the carpet. After a moment, he gave the smallest shake of his head.

“No.”

That one word still managed to sting more than you'd expected.

You nodded slowly, not because you accepted it, but because you’d known. You’d known for a while now, in the way his touches had grown hesitant, in the tired tone of his voice, in the endless nights where you both turned away in bed instead of toward each other.

“I thought love would be enough,” you whispered.

“I did too,” he said. And it sounded like regret. Not the sharp kind, the quiet kind that eats away at you, slowly.

You looked at him then. The dark circles under his eyes. The tension in his shoulders. The way his mouth was pressed in a hard line, like he was holding something in.

“Do you still love me?”

The question left your mouth before you could stop it.

His head finally lifted, and his eyes met yours.

“God, I love you so much it makes me feel sick sometimes.”

You let out a soft, hollow laugh. He was like this, even in these moments, he made you laugh. And that made the pain even worse.

“Then why does it still feel like we’re losing each other?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“Because loving each other isn’t fixing us anymore.”

That broke something inside you. Not in a dramatic, shattering way. Just a slow, internal collapse. A piece of your chest folding in on itself.

“So what do we do?” you asked.

He stood, slowly, like the weight of the moment made his movements heavier, and crossed the room. When he sank to the floor in front of you, kneeling like he used to when you’d come home upset from school or work, it almost felt like the past was reaching for you.

Almost.

“We let go,” he whispered. “Before we ruin the good we had.”

You blinked hard. Your throat burned.

“I don’t want to let go of you.”

“I don’t want to either,” he admitted, and his voice was shaking now. “But I think we have to.”

You put the mug down, and slid off the couch to the floor beside him. His hands were there, right in front of you, shaking. You reached for them, familiar, warm, still his, and he didn’t pull away.

“I thought we’d be forever,” you said.

“We were, for a while,” he murmured. “We grew up together. We made each other who we are. But maybe we can’t carry each other anymore.”

Tears finally spilled down your cheeks. Quiet. Steady.

“I don’t hate you,” you whispered. “Even after this.”

“Don’t say that,” he replied, voice cracking. “You’re making this harder.”

“It’s already hard.”

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. His hands gripped yours like lifelines. You both sat there, shaking and quiet, breathing the same air like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“I’ll love you for the rest of my life,” you whispered.

He didn’t say it back.

Not out loud.

Because if he had, if he gave that truth shape, neither of you would’ve had the strength to end it.

Eventually, you pulled back. Stood up. Grabbed your bag with trembling fingers. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, so soft it barely lingered, and you whispered goodbye.

Then you walked out.

And the door closed.

You didn’t look back.

You couldn’t.

And inside that quiet apartment, Ni-ki stayed exactly where you left him, knees to the floor, hands clenched tight, eyes fixed on nothing at all.

He didn’t cry.

Ni-ki told himself he was fine.

He smiled at the jokes, laughed at the right moments, nodded along as his friends passed around drinks and shouted over the music like the world was still spinning normally. He told himself this was what he needed, noise, people, distractions. He hadn’t been to a party like this in a long time. Maybe not since… well. Since you.

He even tried to date other girls, a lot of them, but it never worked, it didn't feel right.

And yeah, maybe his chest felt a little tight when he walked through the door and remembered that you might be here too. But the house was big. There were too many rooms, too many bodies. He could avoid you.

He could be normal.

So he leaned into the chaos. Let himself be pulled into a circle of friends, let Jake drape a lazy arm around his shoulders. He threw back a drink even though it didn’t taste like anything. His cheeks flushed from the heat of the room, from the music vibrating under his shoes, from the lie in his throat that kept repeating: I’m over it. I’m over her.

You hadn’t spoken in a year. A whole year. You’d both agreed, it was mutual. Grown-up, mature, clean, at least on the outside.

He never told anyone how many times he almost texted you. How many times he saw your old hoodie in the back of his closet and sat on the floor for hours, just holding it. How he couldn't had been able to delete your pictures from his phone, how he still heard your voice, your laughter, how even when some nights his friends insisted to him to find a casual hookup, he still wished the girl he kissed was you instead, how he missed your skin, your smell, everything.

And now here he was, dancing, joking, breathing. Existing without you.

He was fine.

Until he saw you.

You were across the room, bathed in purple lights, laughing at something your friend said. You moved with the music in that way you always did, like you weren’t thinking about it, like it was just instinct. Your body knew rhythm like your heart used to know his.

You looked beautiful.

You always did. But tonight you looked like you’d healed. Like you’d finally started to live again. And maybe you had. Maybe you had moved on. Maybe that smile was real. Maybe your shoulders weren’t heavy with memories anymore.

And Ni-ki’s heart twisted violently in his chest.

The room blurred around you, sound dampened by the roar in his ears. That lie in his throat, the one he’d been chanting all night — I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine — suddenly felt so small. So pathetic.

Because the truth was: seeing you, dancing like you’d never broken, like he wasn’t still holding pieces of you deep inside his ribs… it made him ache.

So he swallowed hard, turned his face away, and tried to laugh again at whatever joke his friend made.

But it didn’t convince this time.

You weren’t even sure how you ended up in the bathroom without passing out. One minute you were clutching your drink too tightly, laughing with your friend, pretending not to feel the way you were feeling just from seeing him. And the next, your legs were moving on their own, taking you down the hallway, slipping into the first open door you could find.

You exhaled sharply, fingers trembling as you tried to breathe past the knot in your throat. You didn’t want to cry. You hadn’t cried in months. Not since the night you left his apartment and didn’t look back.

You told yourself you were over it. That time had dulled the edges. That the ache had turned into something distant, something manageable.

But then you saw him tonight.

Even if just for a second.

And suddenly everything hurt again.

Your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, all mascara, glossed lips, and shaky composure. You looked pretty. You looked hot. You looked like you were doing okay. And somehow that made it worse.

Because underneath it, you weren’t okay at all.

Not with the music thumping downstairs. Not with the memory of his eyes on you. Not with the echo of his voice in your head, low, soft, saying your name the way no one else ever had. Not with that ugly, dirty, pain that was creeping inside of your chest.

Your breath caught. You squeezed your eyes shut.

God, just stop. Get it together.

But it was already too late.

A sob tore through your chest, sudden and violent, catching you off guard.

And then you were sinking to the edge of the tub, hands covering your face, shoulders trembling as everything you’d kept buried clawed its way out. The kind of crying that didn’t come with neat tears, this was messy, raw, gasping for air.

The pain, the longing, the regret, it all spilled out at once.

You missed him.

You missed the way things used to be, late-night phone calls, tangled limbs on lazy mornings, the way he knew you without words. You missed his teasing, his laugh, the way he looked at you, the way he kissed you. You missed how you two owned every room you walked into, because everybody said how powerful you looked together, and he would always smile proudly and kiss your cheek. You missed your best friend. You missed feeling understood.

And you hated that you still wanted him.

You hated that even now, after all the silence, he still had this power over you.

“…Y/N?”

His voice made your stomach drop.

For a moment, all you could hear was the thudding of the music through the floor and the sound of your own uneven breathing. Then slowly, you looked up, eyes still glassy and lashes wet, and there he was, standing in the doorway like a ghost you hadn’t meant to summon.

Ni-ki.

Your heart lurched painfully in your chest.

He looked startled, like he hadn’t meant to walk in, like he was just looking for a break from the noise and accidentally stepped straight into a minefield. His hand stayed on the door, fingers curled tightly around the handle as if ready to bolt.

His eyes flicked across the room, the light still on, your body slumped near the tub, the flush on your cheeks that had nothing to do with alcohol.

“Oh—shit,” he stammered. "Sorry, i didn’t know anyone was in here.”

You flinched, quickly turning your face away, swiping at your cheeks in a panic. You couldn't let him see you like this, not when this was literally the first time he saw you in a year.

“It’s—fine. Whatever. Just go.”

You couldn’t even look at him.

He didn’t move. And then he noticed.

He noticed the trembling of your hands, the uneven rise and fall of your chest, the way your eyes were rimmed red and glassy, not from drinking. Not even close.

“Are you…” His voice softened, but it cracked at the end. “Are you crying?”

“No,” you bit out too fast, scrambling to stand up. You faced the mirror instead of him, avoiding your own reflection just as much. “I’m just...drunk. That’s all. I’m fine.”

You reached for a paper towel, wiping under your eyes as if you could erase everything, the tears, the pain, the year that had cracked you open and left you raw. You didn’t want him to see this. Not like this. Not when you’d worked so hard to pretend like you were okay.

God, this was the worst-case scenario. Out of all the people to see you like this, it had to be him.

He didn’t move. He just stood there in the doorway, looking at you like he didn’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth.

You hated that.

You hated how well he still knew you.

“You’re not drunk,” he said quietly.

“Yes, I am.” You let out a shaky, fake laugh, pushing your hair back. “I’m totally wasted. That drink was—like, way too strong.”

“Y/N.”

You looked up.

His eyes met yours, soft, hesitant, breaking at the edges. You felt it like a wave crashing over both of you. The weight of everything unsaid. The months of silence. The way this bathroom felt like the only place in the world right now.

You swallowed hard, backing up a step toward the sink.

His brows were drawn together, his mouth parted, unsure. You hated how much you still remembered the way that mouth felt on your skin. You hated that even now, with all this space between you, his presence still made your stomach twist and your heart ache in places you swore had healed.

“I said I’m fine,” you lied again, sharper this time, but your voice shook at the edges, betraying you.

And still, he didn’t leave. Instead, Ni-ki stepped fully into the room and quietly shut the door behind him.

You blinked.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, and for a second, something flickered across his face, panic, maybe. Or guilt. “I just… I couldn’t walk away. Not when you’re like this.”

The silence after that was suffocating.

You stood facing the mirror, gripping the edge of the sink, your knuckles white. You felt him behind you. Close. Not touching, but there. And suddenly it was all too much, the scent of his cologne that hadn’t changed, the gentle thud of the music behind the walls, the ghost of his name still ringing in your chest.

“I didn’t want to see you tonight,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, barely audible. “Me neither.”

You felt him take another step forward, slow and hesitant, like he was afraid you might break again if he came too close, and you flinched slightly, tears starting to fall again down your cheeks, you wiped them fast as he talked again, his voice was barely a breath.

“Y/N… can I—?”

“No,” you said sharply, pulling away before he could reach you.

His hand hovered uselessly in the air for a moment before falling back to his side. You couldn’t even look at him now. You were afraid if you did, you’d fall apart all over again. And you knew he hated to see you like this, because he hated when you cried, but he hated even more when he knew he was the reason.

“I’m just trying to—”

“To what, Ni-ki?” you snapped, your voice brittle. “Make me feel better? Fix it? You can’t. You can’t just walk in here after a year and—what—play concerned ex-boyfriend while I’m falling apart?”

“I never stopped caring about you,” he said quietly, and it hurt more than you thought it would.

The silence between you stretched like a tight wire, humming with everything unsaid. You could feel him watching you, not just with his eyes, but with everything in him, like he didn’t know whether to reach out or run.

You knew you should just walk away, but you couldn't. It was too much, too much and you needed to say it, for once and for all. Because it wasn't the breakup itself, it was the fact that, after months of distance from him, he still let you walk away that day, he still didn't fight, he still didn't care.

You tried to keep your breathing steady, tried to blink away the burning in your eyes. But the second you opened your mouth, your voice trembled.

“You let me walk away.”

Ni-ki froze.

Your throat closed up. You swallowed hard, your chest aching, your hands shaking, the memory of that day a year ago still fresh and burning in your mind.

“I waited for you. For a day. A week. A month. I kept thinking you’d come back. That you’d knock on my door. Say you changed your mind. But you didn’t.”

He stepped forward, but you held up a hand, not touching him, just keeping him at that same unbearable distance. Close enough to feel, but not to hold.

“You didn’t even try, Ni-ki,” you whispered. “You didn’t chase me. You didn’t stop me that night. I was waiting for you to say something, anything, to make me stay.”

He looked gutted.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he said, his voice breaking like glass. “I was scared I’d say the wrong thing again.”

“So you said nothing?” you snapped. “You let everything we built just… end? We were together for years. Since we were kids. I loved you so much it scared me. And when things got hard, I thought we were supposed to fight for each other. I thought you would fight for me.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again. His eyes were shining now.

“I wanted to,” he rasped. “You think I didn’t want to? Every night, I would stare at my phone. I’d go to your street and just sit there, not knowing if I’d have the courage to knock.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I thought I broke you,” he said, his voice cracking fully now. “I thought I wasn’t enough. And I knew you deserved better than a guy who kept shutting down. Who didn’t know how to fix things without making it worse.”

You blinked, a tear slipping free.

“I didn’t need you to fix everything. I needed you to try. I was willing to hold on through anything. But you let go first.”

He looked like he couldn’t breathe. His chest was rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths.

“I punished myself every day for that.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The ache in your chest was growing too loud to speak over.

“I still dream about it,” he whispered. “The way you looked at me before you left. You were waiting for me to stop you. And I just stood there, like a coward. I should’ve said something. I should’ve begged.”

You let out a broken sound, something between a sob and a laugh.

“I kept wondering if you ever missed me,” you said. “If you were out there forgetting me while I was remembering every piece of you. I would’ve taken you back, you know. Even after everything. You just had to say you wanted me.”

Ni-ki took another step toward you, slower this time. His eyes were glassy, a tear slipping down his cheek, unbothered and unhidden.

“I never stopped wanting you.”

His voice was hoarse, strangled, like it cost him everything to say it.

“I just didn’t think I deserved you anymore.”

The words knocked the air out of your lungs.

“Then you never really knew me,” you whispered, eyes blurring. “Because I wasn’t asking you to be perfect. I just needed you to be there. To not give up on me.”

He let out a soft, broken sound and finally, finally his face cracked. His shoulders curled inward like they were folding under the weight of everything he’d buried, and the tears came hard now, slipping past his lashes in streaks down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve fought. I should’ve followed you that night. I was scared and selfish and so, so wrong—”

You covered your mouth with your hand, a sob ripping through you as your body shook.

The bathroom felt too small for the pain in both your chests.

Ni-ki took one more step, close now, barely a breath away, but still not touching you. His hands hovered, trembling at his sides.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered. “I just didn’t know how to hold on without breaking you more.”

You shook your head, tears running freely now.

“You broke me because you let go.”

Neither of you moved. Neither of you looked away.

And there it was, both of you standing in the ruins of what could’ve been, hearts cracked wide open, trying to figure out if love was still enough.

For a moment, the only sound in the bathroom was your breathing, shallow, uneven, and Ni-ki’s quiet sniffle as he dragged the back of his hand under his nose. The silence didn’t feel awkward anymore. It felt sacred. Heavy. Like you were standing in the middle of something fragile and precious, even if it was painful.

You looked up at him, and god, he looked beautiful in the saddest way possible.

His dark lashes were damp, clumped together from tears. His eyes were glassy, swollen around the edges, and red like he’d been holding everything in for too long. A tear still lingered on his cheekbone, catching the light, and his lips were parted just slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t trust his voice not to crack again. His hair was a little messy, falling into his eyes, and his chest rose and fell like every breath physically hurt.

You had never seen him like this. And still, even with tear tracks down his face and his hands trembling, he was heartbreakingly beautiful. He always had been. Even more so now, undone like this, human, soft, real.

And then his eyes met yours again.

You felt the burn of emotion rise again in your chest as you realized how you must’ve looked, mascara smudged under your eyes, lips swollen from biting down to stop yourself from sobbing, your dress wrinkled where your hands had clutched it too tightly. Your cheeks were damp, and your nose was red, and your shoulders shook with every shaky inhale.

But Ni-ki looked at you like you were still the only person in the world.

Like you hadn’t changed at all, like you were still his.

His gaze dragged over your features slowly, memorizing them like he hadn’t been doing that all night from afar.

“You’re still so…” he started, but the words caught in his throat. His voice cracked, softer this time. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

It was breathless. Honest. And it shattered something deep in your chest.

You let out a shaky breath, your bottom lip trembling.

“You too,” you whispered.

And somehow, even though you were both crying, both a mess, standing there in your sadness, you’d never looked at each other with more love.

Tears rolled silently down Ni-ki’s cheeks again, but he didn’t look away. Neither did you.

It was like time froze for a second. Just long enough to remember: this was the same boy you used to wake up next to, who used to trace your face with the tip of his finger just because he liked how you looked in the morning. And you were the same girl who used to kiss him just because he blinked too slowly when he was tired.

You were still them. Maybe older. Maybe a little more broken. But still you.

And god, even now, even in this , you were beautiful to each other.

He stepped forward.

You didn’t move. You should have, should’ve stepped back, should’ve put space between you, should’ve remembered that there were reasons why you’d walked away in the first place. But your feet stayed rooted, breath caught in your throat as his hand hovered just beside your face. Not touching, just waiting.

You could feel the warmth of his palm in the air, trembling.

And when his eyes dropped to your lips for just a second, you whispered, barely a sound, almost a breath.

“Ni-ki…”

“I know,” he said softly. “You don’t have to… I just—” His voice cracked again. “I missed you so much it fucking ruined me. I haven't seen you in a year, and i missed you.”

Your chest squeezed.

“I missed your voice,” he whispered, inching closer, heart in his throat. “Your laugh. Your hands. Your body. I couldn’t touch anyone else — I couldn’t even look at anyone else without seeing you.”

A whimper broke from your throat before you could stop it.

Your hands found his chest, not to pull him closer — not yet — but to push. You pressed against him with weak palms, shaking your head even as your tears fell faster.

“No,” you murmured. “This is a bad idea. We're in the bathroom and we're—”

“—not over each other,” he finished, voice shaking. “And we both know it.”

You opened your mouth, but he was already leaning in, slow, giving you every second to stop him. And still, you didn’t move. You wanted to push him away, your fingers flexed against his chest, trying, pleading with yourself, but the second his lips brushed yours, all of that fight melted into ache.

You gasped. And in that gasp, something in you broke.

You leaned in.

The kiss was nothing like how you remembered it, not soft, not sweet. It was hungry. Shaky. A collision of breath and tears and aching mouths trying to say everything they never got to. His hands cupped your jaw like you’d slip away if he let go. You gripped his shirt with trembling fists, pulling him closer until your bodies were flush, and your kiss deepened with a sob caught between your teeth.

You could taste the salt of your tears. His too.

You kissed him like you needed it to breathe. He kissed you like he never thought he’d get to again.

It was clumsy, noses bumping, lips trembling. He sighed into your mouth when your hands slid into his hair, and you felt him shudder as you pressed closer. The kiss felt like a cry, like mourning, like longing, like every what if that had haunted you since that night.

When you finally pulled away, barely a breath between you, his forehead dropped to yours.

Neither of you said anything.

Your tears had stopped, but your eyes still burned. His thumbs brushed your cheeks, tender, reverent, like he didn’t know how to hold you anymore but was desperate to remember.

Your breathing was still shaky, but his lips were still so close, warm, trembling, parted like he was caught between apology and need. His hands hadn’t left your face, his thumb still brushing over your cheek, tender like he was scared you’d disappear if he touched you too hard.

But when your eyes fluttered open and met his again, something shifted.

You didn’t know who leaned in first. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was him. But suddenly, your mouths collided again, harder this time, not rushed, but desperate. Desperate to feel something real. To drown in it. To let it hurt and heal at the same time.

This kiss wasn’t careful.

His hand slipped into your hair, gripping gently but firmly, angling your face to deepen it. Your fingers clutched his shoulders, sliding around his neck, dragging him impossibly closer as you parted your lips for him. And when his tongue brushed yours, soft, tentative, like he didn’t want to push too far too fast, you whimpered into his mouth, and he groaned quietly like the sound broke something inside him.

He tasted like salt and need, like everything you missed.

Your bodies pressed flush, your chest heaving against his, his fingers trailing down to your waist where they held you like he couldn’t bear to let go again. You tilted your head, kissing him deeper, slower, your hips shifting just slightly and making him suck in a sharp breath.

“God,” he whispered against your lips, voice wrecked. “You still feel the same.”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t need to.

The way your nails grazed the back of his neck, the way your mouth clung to his like it was the last thing tethering you to the earth, it said everything.

Ni-ki’s kisses turned rougher with every second, still emotional, still laced with that aching kind of sadness, but growing hotter, heavier. He kissed you like he didn’t know where to put all of his grief, like this was the only way to survive it. And you gave into it just the same, kissed him with all the pain you never let yourself feel, every soft thing you buried just to get through the days without him.

Your tears had dried, but the emotion was still there, in the way you gasped when his teeth grazed your bottom lip, in the quiet moan you choked down when his hand gripped your waist tighter.

It wasn’t just a kiss.

It was everything you hadn’t said. Everything you’d swallowed. Every lonely night. Every almost-text. Every time you saw his name and looked away.

And for the first time in a year, you felt alive.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, his forehead dropped against yours again, both of you dizzy and breathless.

He was staring at you like you were a miracle.

His hands roamed gently, tracing over your back like he was trying to relearn you with his palms, not rushing, not pushing, just feeling. Every inch he touched sent warmth spreading through your skin, not from lust, but from the way it was him. The only person who ever made you feel this full and this fragile at once.

Your mouths found each other again, slower now, deeper, like you were sinking into him, like the ache wasn’t enough unless it lingered.

He kissed down the corner of your mouth, over your jaw, his lips brushing your skin like a secret. Your breath hitched when he reached the spot just beneath your ear, his voice low and raw, full of things he hadn’t dared say before now.

“I used to dream about this,” he murmured, lips brushing your skin with every word. “Touching you again. Kissing you like this. You have no idea what it did to me—wanting you and not being allowed to have you.”

You shivered under his touch, fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer. He kissed your neck, just once, slow and hot, then dragged his lips back to yours, softer this time, but no less desperate.

“You’re still the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered against your mouth. “Even when you’re crying.”

You let out a sound between a laugh and a sob, kissing him harder just to shut him up, because your heart couldn’t take it.

“You were always mine,” he breathed, kissing you again. “Even when I had to pretend you weren’t.”

His hands gripped your waist now, sliding beneath your dress just resting there, his thumbs stroking your skin lightly, reverently.

“I missed your skin,” he said, voice ragged. “Missed the way you’d melt the second I touched you. Missed the way you’d whisper my name.”

You pulled back, just an inch, just enough to breathe, just enough to look at him. His eyes were glassy, lips red and swollen, and he looked like a boy on the edge of a cliff, waiting for you to tell him whether to jump or step back.

“I’m not drunk,” you whispered, as if admitting it made it more real. “I know what this is.”

“So do I,” he replied softly. “I’m not touching you because I’m drunk. I’m touching you because I still love you.”

And then he kissed you again, deep, slow, filled with everything he couldn’t say all at once. His hand slid up your back, the other cupping your jaw like you were made of glass and he was terrified of breaking you. But he needed to hold you, to feel you, to convince himself this wasn’t another dream.

Every brush of his fingers was light, meaningful, the kind of touch that said he remembered everything. The way you liked to be held. The spots that made you breathe harder. The pace that made your knees weak.

His lips returned to your ear, voice so low it barely reached over the sound of your own heartbeat.

“I want to make you feel good again,” he whispered. “Like I used to. Just… let me have you for a little while.”

You shivered, but not from the cold.

Because you already had.

You never stopped being his.

#enhypen x reader #enhypen niki #enhypen nishimura riki #nishimura riki #niki x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen headcanons #riki nishimura x reader #niki nishimura #nishimura riki x reader

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abdallahf44 · 2 months ago

Text

Please take a moment to read.🙏🏻❤

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #598 )✅️

Hi, I’m Abdullah, a student from Gaza.

Before the war, I was a hopeful and hardworking computer science student. I graduated high school with 95.4%, was top of my class in university, and had just been accepted to work with a software company. I had dreams—big ones—to finish my degree, work hard, and one day build something of my own.

But everything changed.

The war destroyed my home, my university, my work, and my future.

We had two houses—one was completely destroyed, the other heavily damaged. My room, where I studied and worked, is now unrecognizable. My father's years of hard work disappeared under the rubble.

I’ve lost not only a home, but a part of myself. The trauma, fear, and despair we live in have changed me deeply. And now, the only way to survive and rebuild is to leave Gaza—a dream that costs far more than I can afford.

All I ask is your help.

Your donation is not just money—it’s a chance for me to live, study, and dream again.

"From Gaza. I lost my home, my studies, and my dreams."

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #598 )✅️

Thank you for reading. Please share if you can't donate—your voice matters.

#free palestine #freepalastine🇵🇸#i stand with palestine #gaza #palestinian lives matter #save palestine #save gaza #support palestine #stop the genocide #palestine #donations #donate if you can

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marauder-misprint · 3 months ago

Note

Platonic Fred and Reader where they make everyone think their dating, but it’s all a joke to them

Hi! I know you said platonic, but this is 100% a friends-to-lovers fake dating trope ❤︎ So it started platonic...

I have no regrets. Hope y'all enjoy ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Friend who is a girl

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

8.6k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining, fake dating, Y/N

It wasn’t uncommon to find you doing your homework in the common room. Sure, a lot of people did their homework there, but you had the ability of getting work done while the Weasley twins and Lee planned pranks and fine-tuned products for the Weasleys’ future joke shop. You picked up this skill over the years as the trio of troublemakers decided that you would be their fourth member. Sometimes you think back to the first time they talked to you and wonder if you actually had a choice in joining their group.

“Oi, what are you doing later?” Fred asks you, leaning over the table you’re sitting at.

“Nothing that I’m aware of,” you answer, not looking up from your book.

“Great! You’ll come watch quidditch practice then.”

You snort a laugh. “And why would I do that?”

“Because Wood’s girlfriend is going to watch and he told us to ask our girlfriends so she wouldn’t be so out of place in the stands.”

“Right… Um, two things. One, don’t you and George have a fan club or something that already goes to your practices? And two, we aren’t dating so I’m not… your girlfriend?”

“Ah, but you’re my girl… friend. Friend who is a girl. I figure it’s close enough. And there’s no fan club. Good to know you think I’m attractive enough to warrant one though,” he says with a wink.”

You roll your eyes. Yes, Fred was attractive, but he didn’t need you to tell him that. He already had one of the biggest egos. You’re not sure if you could handle him if he was any more cocky. He’s already assuming you’ll drop your plans to do nothing to sit outside and watch him fly around on a broom.

“Who’s George asking?”

“Dunno. George!” His voice carries across the common room to where his twin is sitting Lee.

The two look over at you and Fred. George immediately grins widely.

“She say yes?” he yelled back.

Fred gives you a look before saying, “Course she did. Who’re you asking again?”

George gets up and walks over to you and Fred, not wanting to yell across the common room.

“Beatrice Haywood, Hufflepuff, sixth year, doesn’t give a rat’s ass about quidditch,” George says. “We figured you could explain what’s going on to them.”

“Because I’m so knowledgeable about quidditch,” you snark.

You do know a fair bit about quidditch. How could you not with Gryffindor’s beaters and the regular match announcer as your closest friends? It was knowledge by association, proximity. Not by choice.

“More than they do,” Fred says. “You’re coming.”

You roll your eyes again and return to your book. But when the time came, you were walking down to the pitch with the boys. You sat between Beatrice and Oliver’s girlfriend, Gabrielle. As George predicted, you explained what was going on. More to Gabrielle than Beatrice. Thankfully, Oliver was running the Weasleys’ least favorite drills, meaning they had complained for hours on end about said drills and you actually knew what was going on. One of the more distracting parts of the practice was the group of fangirls who sat in the section behind you. Despite Fred’s denial of their existence, they were most certainly there for the twins and Harry Potter.

After the practice ended, you waited for the twins outside the locker room with Gabrielle as she waited for Oliver. You made polite conversation with her, asking about how her classes were going and what she was looking to go into after Hogwarts. Just simple questions to ask a seventh year that you didn’t really know. Soon enough, the twins walk out. Fred throws a casual arm over your shoulder, which you immediately duck under.

“Get your sweaty arm off me,” you say mirthfully. Was his sweaty arm gross? Yes, but it wasn’t like you hadn’t hugged the twins when they were sweaty after a match before.

“Oh, is my sweaty arm okay then?” George asks before putting his arm around your shoulders.

Fred seizes the opportunity and returns his arm to your shoulders as well. You’re effectively trapped between the two.

“Ugh, neither of your sweatinesses are appreciated!” you groan, causing both of them to laugh.

They don’t remove their arms from you until you’re back inside the castle. The walk back to the common room is filled with them complaining about the drills Oliver made them do over and over again.

“You know, if you did it correctly the first time, he wouldn’t have you do it ten times,” you say.

“Oi, she thinks it’s easy,” George says.

“I’d love to see you try it.”

“Ha,” you say dryly. “I will not be getting on that deathstick. No thank you.”

“I think you need to give it a second chance. Use one of our brooms. It’ll be a step up from the shitty school brooms we used first year,” Fred says.

“Madam Hooch said she passed me out of pity.”

“Ah, we’ll get you on a broom next time you come round the Burrow,” George says with some finality in his voice.

By then you’ve reached the Fat Lady and Fred gives her the password. You bid the boys good night and head to your dorm with the intent of showering to get their sweaty stench off of you. Alicia and Angelina are already in your dorm and doing homework when you walk in. They give you brief smiles before turning back to their work. Frankly, you’re a bit surprised that they didn’t ask about you being at practice, but you just assume that they are dead set on getting their homework done.

---

It didn’t take long for the first rumors to spread.

“Oliver’s new girlfriend went to watch the Gryffindors’ practice. She was there, sitting with her. That probably means she’s dating one of them too.”

“I saw Fred Weasley talking to her.”

“I didn’t know they were dating.”

“Must be a new thing.”

You slam your books down on the table at lunch as you wink into your usual spot next to Fred.

“The whispers, rumors, gossip. It’s driving me crazy, Fred. And it’s all your fault,” you say.

“My fault?”

“Insisting I go watch your little practice? Sit next to your captain’s girlfriend? All because being a friend who is a girl is, as you put it, close enough? Now it feels like half the school thinks we’re dating.”

Fred just shrugs. “Let them. Who cares?”

You did. You care. Not that you’re overly sociable, but you want the freedom to flirt and be flirted with. You’re an honest person and it feels weird to not correct people that you aren’t dating Fred. His not caring attitude just feels off for the situation. But you try to brush it under the rug. You can be nonchalant about it, or at least that’s what you’re going to tell yourself.

---

“Weasley!” Oliver calls, getting Fred’s attention as the ginger exits his last class of the day.

Fred nods to acknowledge Oliver before heading his way.

“What’s up, capt?”

“How would you feel about a double date?”

Fred raises his eyebrows in surprise. “A double date?”

“Yeah, erm, Gabrielle really liked sitting with Y/N at practice. Was hoping the four of us could do something together. Hogsmeade, next weekend?”

“I’ll talk to Y/N about it…”

“Brilliant. Gabs will be excited! You better get her to say yes, Weasley,” Oliver says before heading down the corridor.

Fred runs a hand through his hair, partially worried about what Oliver has just roped him into. You were already feeling iffy about people thinking you two were a couple. But you would say yes, right?

He heads to Charms, knowing it’s your last class of the day and won’t be too far. You’re chatting with Alicia when he finds you. Alicia excuses herself as soon as she spots Fred heading your way. He has a determined look on his face which she interprets as “incoming prank” and she didn’t want to be involved.

“Hey, Y/N. How would you fancy going on a double date?”

“Have you suddenly gotten yourself a proper girlfriend? And found me a suitor at the same time?” you report.

“Hmm, well, no. It seems Gabrielle, Wood’s girl, you know,” he starts to say.

“I’m familiar,” you interrupt.

“She’s taken a liking to you. They want a double date. So, clear your schedule for next weekend.”

“So not only does the whole castle think we’re dating, but now we’re going on dates? Despite not dating?”

“It’s one day, love. An afternoon, really. We’ll go, get drinks and chat and that’ll be all. Easy. No harm, no foul. You get free drinks and I keep my captain happy,” he says, trying to sell you on it.

You narrow your eyes at Fred. “Fine. But you owe me.”

“Fantastic!” he says with a smile. “You’re the best, you know that/”

“I could stand to hear it more.”

“If you think about it, you’ll probably be hearing it all Saturday.”

“I will?”

“I mean, we’re leaning into this dating thing. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t remind you how great you are?”

You roll your eyes. “Probably a shite one. But still, you could remind me, as a friend, being that I do most of your Arithmancy homework.”

“I provide you with plenty of entertainment as compensation!”

“Entertainment you would provide either way.”

“How ‘bout this: I’ll buy you some chocolate frogs while we’re in Hogsmeade.”

You cross your arms with a satisfied look on your face. “Finally, proper payment.”

---

The walk to Hogsmeade on Saturday with Fred doesn’t feel like a date. It is just two close friends going to the wizarding village. Then you meet up with Oliver and Gabrille, who are holding hands and look very couple-y. It suddenly feels like you’re third wheeling, and Fred is also third wheeling, but that’s two third wheels and that’s not how things work. Gabrielle is nice and so is Oliver, but you still feel weird being here under the guise of having a relationship with Fred.

You and Fred both cringe as the other two lead you toward Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. It isn’t somewhere either of you would be caught dead in any other situation. You grab Fred’s arm as Oliver and Gabrielle enter without any qualms.

“You seriously owe me, Weasley,” you hiss before shoving him toward the door.

The shop is far too warm, too cramped and too frilly for your liking. Oliver and Gabrielle appear to have no issues with practically sitting in each other’s laps, electing to focus on each other rather than the steaming cups of tea in front of them. You sit as close as you can to the fogged-up windows. Any extra space between you and Fred would be appreciated, but despite your best efforts, his knee bumps into yours every few seconds as you both shift uncomfortably.

Everywhere you look inside the small shop, there are couples being overly affectionate. And that’s including across the table. That leaves you with two places to look: at Fred, who you’re afraid that if you look at him for too long, he might try something to further your dating ruse, or at your tea. You stare at your cup with its swirling steam. You assume it’s an enchanted brew, given the way the steam curls into hearts.

“Tea really that interesting?” Fred asks you in a low voice, almost as if to not bring attention to you despite there being no way that Oliver or Gabrielle are looking away from each other any time soon.

“Don’t think I’ve ever had enchanted tea, you know? Do you think it tastes funny? Or will it make this shop any less nauseating?” you reply, voice just as low.

“Yeah, not my first choice either. I’m guessing her choice.”

You look at Fred to ensure that he sees you rolling your eyes.

“Maybe he secretly loves lacy table runners. Have you considered that?”

“My boy loves one thing, Y/N. And it’s quidditch.”

“If he keeps at this like he is now, he’ll have two loves soon enough.”

“Then we’ll never win the Cup!”

“Oh no,” you say in mock horror. “What ever will we do?”

“What if I told you it was the same as suggesting you’ll never get an O in Transfiguration?”

You gasp loudly. “No! Take that back!”

“And now you see how dire the situation is.”

“No, that’s not fair. I actually need to do well in that class for my career. The Quidditch Cup is just bragging rights.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Tell me, Fred. How is winning the Cup going to help you with your joke shop?”

“Uh… Teamwork?”

You laugh. “I think losing would teach you better teamwork. And a bit of resilience.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Fred mutters while shaking his head.

“What? That joke product industry might be more cut-throat than you’re prepared for?”

“That you think we aren’t resilient!”

You scoff. “I know you are resilient. And there’s no one you work better with than George. You’ve already got those skills. Winning the Cup isn’t going to change that.”

“You’re ridiculous…”

“I have to agree with you on that.”

About half an hour passes with you and Fed chatting like that while you periodically take sips of your tea. The tea doesn’t make sitting in the shop any easier as you had hoped. It’s the chatting with Fred that distracts you from the fact that Oliver and Gabrielle are essentially snogging across the table from you. When you finish your tea, you set your cup on its saucer with a sharp clink. That gets their attention.

“You ready to head out?” Fred asks them as they sheepishly separate.

Their tea is completely untouched, yet they nod and get up. As the four of you walk around Hogsmeade, you plaster yourself to Fred’s side. Normally, you wouldn’t stand this close for so long. And normally, you wouldn’t entertain the way his hand continuously bumps into yours until he just grabs it. But you’re spending the afternoon with two people you don’t know all that well and the familiarity of Fred is necessary to get through the day.

Fred and Oliver exchange excited looks as you come up on Spintwitches Sporting Needs.

“Do you ladies mind if we nip in for a look around?” Oliver asks.

You drop Fred’s hand and cross your arms.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll wait out here,” you say.

“Me too” Gabrielle adds and the boys disappear into the shop with a tinkle of the door’s bell. “You and Fred are real cute together.”

“Thank you,” you choke out, certain it sounds like you’re being strangled. You, Fred and cute weren’t in a genuine statement often.

“No, really, I mean it. You really work together.”

You shrug. “Probably because he’s my best friend.”

That makes her smile. And it’s the truth. Out of everyone at Hogwarts, you are closest with Fred, which is probably why you agreed to this charade.

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Gabrielle coos. “Your person should be your best friend. Oliver and I, well, we just started dating so I can’t say he’s my best friend just yet, but I think we’ll get there.”

You mentally will the boys to hurry up. Talking with Gabrielle isn’t bad. It’s the talking about your relationship with Fred. What you have with him is platonic and you really don’t want to think about “how good you work together” romantically. If you entertained that idea, being in a real romantic relationship with Fred, the consequences are all that you can think about. What would happen to your friend group? What if you broke up and it was messy? What would happen to your friends then? Nope. Fred is your best friend and that’s all he will be.

You carefully direct the conversation to focus mainly on Gabrielle and her relationship with Oliver. You’re able to get by with not saying much about you and Fred. You try to not sigh a breath of relief when the boys walk out of the shop.

Your next stop is Honeydukes. On the walk over, you grab Fred’s hand and give it a squeeze. Fred looks down at you with a soft look on his face, but you don’t see it. You’re too focused on getting to the sweets shop to get your promised chocolate frogs. Once inside, you’re practically dragging Fred from stand to stand. This is something he’s used to. The amount of time the twins and Lee can spend in Zonko’s is the only rival to the amount of time you’ll take to decide which sweets and how many of each you want. The amounts you spend respectively are also similar.

After Honeydukes, Oliver and Gabrielle say they’re ready to head back, but you look at Fred and ask if he’d want to get butterbeers first. He nods and that’s where the double date ends. Despite no longer having to put on a show for Oliver and Gabrielle, you don’t let go of Fred’s hand until you’re sitting in the booth across from him.

“Sorry, but I need something to get that tea’s flavor out of my mouth,” you say, reaching to grab a chocolate frog already.

“Oi, make sure some of those make it back to the castle!”

“I’m having one, Fred. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“And you’re thinking about my knickers? Disgusting.”

You slap his hand that’s resting on the table and he gives you his trademark teasing grin.

“Oh! You want to know something funny?”

Fred gives you a look that says, ‘Really? Do you know who you’re talking to?’

“Right, of course you do,” you say flatly before continuing with more in your voice. “Gabrielle says we really work together. She called us cute.”

Fred tilts his head in confusion. “And why is this funny?”

“Because we’re not actually dating? It’s like, wow, shocker, two friends get along, totally weird, right?”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Fred. Just amusing to me how easily we pull off the couple look. That’s all.”

“You’re the one who’s all worried about the castle assuming we’re dating.”

“And you’re the one adding fuel to their fire!” you exclaim before placing your head in your hands. “Oh my Merlin. I think we already bicker like a couple and this isn’t even us getting into it. Remember when you wanted to paint the Transfiguration room red and gold after you got an O on your essay?”

Fred laughs. “You wouldn’t talk to me for a week, even after I told you we weren’t going to do it.”

“It was the principle! I stand by what I did.”

“Fucking spoke through Lee the entire time too. I think it would’ve been easier if you avoided me for the week rather than that.”

“Why?” you ask through a laugh.

“If you avoided me, you’d be avoiding George and Lee too. It wouldn’t’ve felt like it was just me, you know? But you spoke through Lee. You talked to George. It was so clearly me.”

“Your dumb idea, your dumb punishment.”

“So, when you say I really owe you for today…”

“It’s your price to pay. Not George’s and certainly not Lee’s.”

“Right. I figured as much.”

After you finish your butterbeers, you walk back to the castle. You don’t think about why Fred puts his arm around your shoulders as you walk. It makes you feel a smidge warmer, which is nice since the sun’s gone down. Tired from socializing all day, you head straight to your dorm once you get back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

You’re tired, but there’s assigned reading to get done so you recline on your bed with your Transfiguration book in front of you. You read about half the chapter when the door opens. Alicia, Angelina and Katie all come in. Katie’s got her school supplies with her so you assume it’s their Chaser Study TIme.

“So…. Y/N, when were you going to tell us about you ‘n’ Fred?” Angelina asks as she gets her own homework out.

“Yeah, since when did you start dating?” Alicia adds.

“Don’t… know…” you say slowly, trying not to lose your spot. “Ask Fred.”

You had been able to handle Gabrielle outside of the quidditch shop. You barely knew her and could parry her questions easily. These girls? After Fred, George and Lee, they are your next closest friends. You could talk about more girlier topics with them, stuff that you wouldn’t dream of talking about with the boys.

“Seriously cute together, you know,” Alicia says.

There’s that word again: cute.

Then she continues, “I knew you’d get with one of the twins. No way you’re that close for so long without doing one of them.”

Katie throws a pillow at her. “Don’t be so crude!”

“I’m just saying! They are fit!” She pointed at Angelina. “And it’s not just them! You remember their older brother – Charlie! Some of them Weasley genes are something else.”

Angelina snorts a laugh. “Some.”

“No, she has a point,” you say, closing your book. You know you’re not going to be able to read any more with these three in the room. “Fred, George, Charlie, dare I say Ron, they all have something that Percy seriously lacks.”

The rest of the girls start giggling.

“Looks, personality, charm. You name it!” Katie exclaims.

After a few more jabs at Percy’s lack of charisma, Angelina turns to you again.

“But really, Y/N, we didn’t even know you had a crush on him. How did it happen?”

“I… I guess I didn’t know I had a crush on him,” you say. You needed something believable. “He’s just always been my best friend. We’ve been close since first year and it… sorta just happened?”

“Is he a good kisser?” Katie asks, leaning forward with curiosity.

You turn bright red and look away from the girls. “We, um, we haven’t kissed.”

The room is filled with a mix of gasps and shrieks.

“What do you mean you haven’t kissed?”

“Is that not how you became ‘more than friends’?”

“I don’t believe you!”

Their reactions are too much for you. You get off your bed and head for the door.

“I’ll be, uh, back…” you say hurriedly.

Once the door is closed behind you, you take a deep breath. So you haven’t kissed Fred. You aren’t actually dating. You didn’t need to kiss him. Part of you, however, is wondering if maybe you should’ve lied to the girls, just said that he is a good kisser. Another part of you is wondering what he’s told his friends, what he’s told George and Lee because surely they’ve heard the rumors and knew that you were going on a double date today. Maybe they knew it was all fake – that would make you feel better if they did.

The common room is empty. You relish the quiet atmosphere as you take a seat in front of the couch on the floor in front of the fireplace. It isn’t too big or providing much warmth, dwindling down to just embers. But it’s something to look at as you think.

‘Let them,’ Fred had said. ‘We’re leaning into this dating thing.’

Right, ignore what people think. It’s your friendship with Fred. That shouldn’t be a spectacle for the whole castle. Even if it seems like Fred likes being the center of gossip.

---

You’re not sure what possesses you on Monday, but when the twins and the rest of the quidditch team start to head to the pitch, you’re right along with them. Once Fred gets over the momentary shock of seeing you walking with them, he slings his arm around your shoulder like it was something he did every day. After having his arm around you on Saturday, it doesn’t feel so foreign. His arm stays around you until you reach the locker rooms at the pitch.

“I’ll see you after practice,” you say, turning toward the stand.

Fred watches you until you disappear up the stairs. George and Harry had gone into the locker room without him. George gives Fred a curious look when he does join them, to which Fred just shakes his head in response. If George wanted to ask him about you, it could wait until after practice.

You take a seat next to Gabrielle, where you had sat at the previous practice. Only this time, it’s just the two of you, no Beatrice. Even with Oliver as her boyfriend, you are still explaining most of the practice to her. You think it’s a fair assumption that she likes you because you explain quidditch in simple terms, leaving out the effects of tailwind on velocity and how much the quaffle should spin if you’re doing a drop pass.

Your presence next to Grabrielle at practices quickly became commonplace. You both skipped out on Wednesday’s morning practice, but you were back for Thursday and Friday’s practices. Those next two practices, you walked down with Fred’s arm around you. If the rest of the team didn’t believe the dating rumors before, they certainly did now.

After Friday’s practice, you work on your homework in the common room. There’s a match tomorrow against Hufflepuff and everyone’s been talking about how it’ll be an easy win. That means you need to get your homework done ahead of time because while you can work through your friends’ prank planning, you can’t work through a party. Lee’s sitting next to you as you work. He has his Potions essay in front of him, but with the way his head is propped up on his hand, it’s clear that he’s not working.

George is the next to join you. Freshly showered and his own essay for Snape in hand, he plops down in the seat next to Lee, leaving one more spot at the table to your right. For Fred, you thought. But Fred doesn’t come down anytime soon after George. You hate that you’re distracted by waiting for him to appear. Instead of working on your Transfiguration assignment, your eyes keep drifting to the boys’ staircase.

“Snape wants… how many inches again?” George groans, letting the top half of his parchment curl over itself.

“Two feet,” Lee says. He had managed to get a little bit done with George working on the same assignment. “I’m like six inches short.”

“Ditto… Swap?”

“Swap.”

You roll your eyes as the boys lean closer together to read each other’s essay in hopes the other has information they can use to fill the last bits of space on their parchment. You’re not judging them. You’ve done the same thing with them before. That’s why you know that it’s more beneficial for them to swap with you than each other. The three boys’ essays always read fairly similar while yours have different points.

You’re working slower than molasses, trying to finish this one assignment before you give up. Your endless peaks toward the stairs aren’t helping.

Then he appears. His hair is dryer than when George came down, so you can assume that he hung around his dorm for a while before deciding to grace the common room with his presence. Only when he walks toward your table, you notice that he’s not carrying homework. He’s carrying a red fabric. He sets it in front of you before taking the open seat next to you.

“What’s this?” you ask, picking it up and letting it unfurl.

It was a quidditch jersey. With Weasley and 2 across the back.

“Girlfriends wear their boyfriend’s jersey to matches,” he says nonchalantly with a smirk.

You lean closer to him and whisper, “Are we still doing this?”

His smirk turns into a mischievous grin. “Might as well. It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“Don’t push your luck, Weasley,” you snap, sitting up straighter.

You quickly gather your things, including the crimson jersey, and head to your dorm. It is fun being with Fred, even if it’s just pretend. Because, well, it’s Fred. Fun is practically synonymous with him.

That doesn’t mean that you don’t feel odd as you stare at your reflection in the morning, wearing Fred’s extra jersey and jeans. You look positively like a girlfriend. You think about everyone who’s called you and Fred cute. Do you look like his girlfriend? You turn around and then look over your shoulder to see the letters spelling his last name sprawling across your back.

It’s a shame that your roommates are all on the team and had to be at the field early. There’s no one to tell you that you look okay, that it’s normal for a girlfriend, albeit fake, to wear her boyfriend’s jersey. That it was cute that he gave it to you without you asking. There’s no one here to pull you out of your dorm. You have to go on your own accord. Which you do. Eventually. After talking yourself up in the mirror for a few more minutes.

The all-consuming out-of-place feeling you have remains as you make your way to the pitch. You can feel eyes on you, on the jersey, reading your back as you pass by.

W-E-A-S-L-E-Y

You’re branded as his. And you find that you don’t think you would mind it if it wasn’t fake.

The eyes remain as you find a spot in the stands. You swear you see Ron and Hermione whispering to each other when you pass them. You wonder what Ron thinks about seeing his last name across your back. Why did you care what he thought?

Then Gabrielle finds you. You feel the weight of feeling out of place lift off of you. She’s wearing Oliver’s jersey. Even if they are a real couple, it’s nice to not be the only one in someone’s jersey. And then you realize why Fred gave you his jersey – Oliver must have mentioned that he was giving his to Gabrielle to wear. First it was practices, then the double date, and now game days. This was for Oliver and Gabrielle.

Even if that is what this is, you can’t deny the look on Fred’s face when he spots you. You swore you saw him scanning the crowd, looking for you. And when he finds you, he gets the brightest smile you’ve seen from him in a while. Then there’s a yell from Oliver to get into position and Fred’s game face takes over.

Fred plays better than you’ve ever seen. He’s everywhere and all of his hits are going exactly where he wants them to. And he still has the time to look your way. Sure, he’s looked your way during a match before, but this felt different. You know it’s because he’s pretending to be your boyfriend. The looks aren’t as platonic, if that’s possible. It’s strange that he can make miniscule changes in his expression to convey a deeper meaning that you understand from across the pitch.

Just as predicted, Hufflepuff doesn’t stand a chance. The score is heavily in Gryffindor’s favor when Harry catches the snitch. You join the rest of the Gryffindors in storming the pitch to congratulate the team. You feel yourself being shoved toward Fred, who picks you up in a bone-crushing hug to spin you around. You let out a giddy laugh that Fred mirrors. Like usual at this point, when he sets you back down, his arm is left slung over your shoulder and your arm is loosely around his waist. Once again, you feel that if anyone was still doubting the status of your relationship with Fred, they wouldn’t now.

You remain at Fred’s side as he talks with everyone congratulating him on the win. He’s basking in the attention and you can’t help but smile up at him. It’s nice to see your best friend so happy. You miss the knowing look that George gives Fred after seeing you like that.

Under Fred’s arm you stay until the pitch empties out and the team starts disappearing into the locker room to put away their things before returning to the common room.

“I’ll see you up there, love,” Fred says softly as he lets go of you.

You smile and wave to him. Just like that Monday practice, Fred watches you walk away until you’re out of sight before going into the locker room. He smiles to himself. He doesn’t even care that George sees him looking like a fool.

You’ve chosen one of the arm chairs by the fire to sit in while you wait for the team. Can’t really have a party to celebrate their win without them. You’re just observing the other Gryffindors when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“You must be good for him,” Percy says. “Never seen Fred play that well.”

You’re not sure if Percy’s ever actually spoken to you before, besides the occasional side note of telling you to try to keep your friends out of trouble. Like you could control them.

“Thank you?” you say, it sounding more like a question than anything.

He nods and walks away. Okay, weird encounter. You shake your head and turn to people-watching.

A roar of cheers announces the team’s arrival with Oliver and Harry leading the bunch. Anyone who hadn’t gotten the chance to congratulate them on the pitch is crowding them now, clapping hands on their shoulders and backs. Somehow, through the masses, Fred spots you and makes his way toward your chair. You suddenly realize that you haven’t congratulated him yet.

“You played really well,” you say, grinning up at him.

“I know,” he replies casually, sitting down on the couch right next to you. “Come ‘ere. Let George or Lee sit there.”

You roll your eyes but get up anyway. He grabs your waist and pulls you into his lap. You hadn’t realized that’s what he meant by “Come here.” His lap. You’d sat next to Fred during post-quidditch parties before, but never in his lap. This is new territory that you’re unable to leave because Fred’s got his arm anchored around your waist.

When George and Lee make their way to the armchair and couch, they are both carrying two drinks. Lee hands one to you and George hands the other to Fred.

“Thank you very much,” Fred says, enunciating each word.

“So, Y/N, what have you been doing to him?” Lee asks.

You give him a pointed yet confused look.

“Fred’s accuracy has never been that good.”

You lean forward as much as you can with Fred’s arm holding you in place.

“What if I told you I tampered with the bludgers?”

“Only to respond to Fred’s bat then? Georgie’s aim could’ve been better.”

“Oi!” George exclaims, looking insulted.

“He’s not wrong,” Fred says with a laugh.

That was the joke that kept coming back for the rest of the day as your quartet lounged around. The rest of the common room was filled with louder conversation and music. Drinks were passed around and refilled. Someone at some point went to get snacks for everyone. It wasn’t the wildest party Gryffindor’s thrown but it was good. It felt nice to just sit and be held by Fred.

And then an up-beat, high-tempo song comes. It gets the attention of several people and suddenly, the area behind the couch is filled with people dancing.

You lean backwards to whisper into Fred’s ear, “Care to dance?”

He nods and loosens his grip on your waist, allowing you to get up. You grab his head and lead him to where the dancing is happening. You don’t think about what you’re doing. All you know is that the music is very danceable. It’s easy to match the energy of the people around you. And it’s even easier when Fred’s hands find your hips to hold your body closer to his, moving in sync.

For half a second, you want to take a step backwards and say, ‘Leave room for Merlin’ with a laugh. But you remember that you’re still leaning into the dating rumors. You let Fred continue to move your body, even if it made your heart pound in a way you didn’t want to think about. Song after song, you’re up against Fred. You’ve never been this close to him, never been able to feel his body, his muscles like this, never been able to smell his cologne this strongly. (Why they showered in the locker rooms after games and not practices is lost on you.)

Eventually, you tire and drag Fred back to the couch. Lee and George have disappeared elsewhere so it’s just you and him. And a few other Gryffindors but you weren’t talking to them. He sits down first and pulls you back into his lap, resuming how you were before you got up to dance.

“You’re still in my jersey,” Fred mutters as his fingers play with the hem of it.

“I didn’t know if I should’ve changed after the game.”

“You decided correctly.”

“Gabrielle still wearing Oliver’s?”

“I’d assume so… Although I haven’t seen them in a while so she might not be anymore…” His voice trails off as he waggles his eyes.

“Oh my Godric! You did not need to go there!”

He laughs. “But you know it’s true.”

“And you know I didn’t need to think about Oliver naked.”

“Are you thinking about…” A mischievous glint sparkles in Fred’s eyes. “Wood’s wood?”

You slap his shoulder, which only makes him laugh louder.

“You are disgusting, Fred Weasley.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see you blush,” he says teasingly.

It’s then that you realize his comment did make you blush. You hide your face in his shoulder. The arm that’s wrapped around you gives you a little squeeze.

“Ah, come on, love. I’m just teasin’. You know that.”

“I do,” you mumble into his shoulder. “I just don’t talk about people’s… wood with you guys.”

Now Fred’s desperately trying to get your face out of his shoulder, moving it backwards and using his other hand to create space between your cheek and his shoulder.

“Are you saying you discuss that with not guys?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

Your blush deepens to match the jersey you’re wearing.

“Oh my Merlin, you do!”

You groan loudly and attempt to hide your face again, but Fred doesn’t let you.

“Tell me, does mine come up?”

Despite his grip on you, you rip yourself off of his lap. You did not need to tell Fred that, yes, you and your roommates had discussed what you thought each guy in your year was packing. Those were conversations that are better left in the confines of your dorm. You decide that that’s enough for the night. You’ve danced, drank and chatted. You can go to bed without anyone calling you a party pooper.

But then Fred’s arm is around your waist again and he’s directing you to the boys’ stairs rather than the girls’.

“Weasley,” you warn quietly.

A quick glance over your shoulder has you seeing George, Lee and their other roommate, Kenneth. Still, Fred continues to push you up the stairs and into their dorm. Your mind is spinning. What was he expecting?

He closes the door behind you and then lays down on his bed. His eyes flutter closed. You stand by the door, unmoving for a minute.

“You going to stand there all night?” he asks, not opening his eyes.

“I… I hope you’re not… ah, expecting anything?”

He pats the area on his bed next to him. You reluctantly sit on the edge of the bed near where he patted. You’re sitting too far away for Fred’s liking. You’d laid on his bed before. It was always his bed you laid on when the four of you hung out in their dorm. Kenneth was often banished the moment you showed up.

“Y/N, I’m going to jump or anything,” Fred says, peeking through his eyelids to see you sitting just within arms reach. “If that’s what you’re thinking… Because of what I said downstairs…”

“Yeah…” you murmur.

Then you move more onto his bed and recline slowly. You’re both laying on your backs, shoulder to shoulder. Fred’s got his hands behind his head and you’re hugging yourself.

After a few minutes of silence, you ask, “So why couldn’t I go to my dorm?”

“Wasn’t done hanging out with you.”

You snort a laugh. “Right.”

“I made a dumb comment, yeah? And then you go hide away for the rest of the night? Nah.”

“Nah,” you echo softly. “So you figure that you’ll drag me up here to what?”

He hums. “This.”

“Stare at your canopy?”

“I guess.” He pauses before adding, “Anything really. ‘S my job to keep you from hiding in your dorm all night.”

“It’s a perfectly reasonable time to go to bed!”

“You’d be doing homework! Reading your Transfiguration book or something.”

“And this is so much better?”

“Yes.”

Silence falls between you again, but it isn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Thank goodness Fred’s your best friend or you’re certain it would be uncomfortable to lay next to him like this. There’s a question that you keep turning over in your mind that you can’t bring yourself to ask. You want to know how long Fred plans on pretending to be your boyfriend. Should you be pretend-breaking it off soon so that your friend group can stay intact without being weird? Do George and Lee know it’s fake? Lee didn’t appear to know it was, but maybe he was acting earlier. But as you lay next to Fred, now doesn’t feel like the right time to ask him.

When his breathing evens out to shallow breaths, you look over at him. He is most definitely sleeping. You smile at his peaceful form. Then you get up and quietly leave his dorm. You’re not sure what time it is, but you’re trying to be sneaky. You are leaving the boys’ dorms after a party and that could start some more rumors if you aren’t careful. You think you’ve successfully switched from the boys’ stairs to the girls’ when a hand grabs your bicep.

“Y/N.”

George.

You turn and give him a polite smile.

“Um, you know you could’ve spent the night,” he says rather sheepishly. “Me and Lee, we don’t mind. And Towler can deal.”

So maybe George doesn’t know it was fake.

“Thanks, George, but I think it’s too soon to be spending the night,” you say.

He nods and lets go of your arm, like he didn’t realize he was still holding onto it. You head up the rest of the stairs. Maybe you should ask Fred at some point what he did tell George and Lee about this faux relationship.

---

You never can ask him. You can’t bring yourself to ask Fred when this is going to end, how it’s going to end and what did he tell your friends. The moment never feels right.

It doesn’t help that pretending to be Fred’s girlfriend gets easier with each passing day. It’s just like being best friends, but on overdrive. There are also more times when Fred leaves George and Lee behind to find you, to hang out with you. He’s even gone to the library to study with you when you needed extra books for an assignment.

The one thing that might have had people second guessing your relationship was a lack of public kissing. There was the occasional kiss pressed to your hairline or your forehead or your cheek, but that was it. The top of the head kisses weren’t new. Fred and George had given you those over the years as you helped with pranks or various homework assignments. But the first time Fred kissed your cheek, it left you more flustered than you would ever admit. It was the most genuine affection you had ever received from a boy. It wasn’t followed by an off-hand ‘you’re the best.’ No. The kiss had been placed on your cheek right before Fred left breakfast early, having forgotten his homework in his dorm. It was a goodbye kiss that you hadn’t been expecting. A goodbye kiss that had you hiding behind your mug for the rest of breakfast, willing your blush to disappear.

You went to Hogsmeade with Fred, George and Lee. They went into Zonko’s, leaving you to either follow them around for at least an hour in that shop or go off on your own for a bit. You chose the latter, not caring to look over the same products that they would spend another hour in their dorm later showing you. You wander around for a little bit before going into Spintwitches. You’re not exactly sure why, but you were drawn inside. You look around, thinking about how Fred really had been performing better this term.

You stop in front of the beater section of the store. In the middle of the display is a new bat that you’ve heard Fred talk about for months. He even wrote about it in his letters to you over the summer. Something about it having better grip and a special weight distribution to help with aim. You’re not really sure what made it all that special, but you’re sure that Fred wants it. You barely glance at the cost before telling the shopkeep that you’d like to buy it.

You claim a booth in the Three Broomsticks and wait for the boys. Meeting them there after their Zonko’s visit was the usual plan and sure enough, after fifteen minutes or so, they appear.

“Got you somethin’,” you say casually as Fred slides onto the bench next to you.

His eyes go wide as you place the box in front of him. George has an identical look on his face, staring at the box.

“Y/N… you shouldn’t have…”

“You’ve been eyeing it for months. Plus, isn’t this what girlfriends do? Spoil our boyfriends?” you say with a teasing lilt.

Fred pulls you into a tight hug and whispers, “Leaning into it now, are you?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Now, you really owe me.”

Fred chuckles as he pulls back.

“No, really, Y/N, thank you.”

“Wait, where’s mine?” George asks. “I want a new bat!”

“Get a girlfriend, then mate,” Lee laughs.

For the rest of the time that you’re in Hogsmeade, Fred keeps stealing glances at you. You don’t notice, nor do you notice the way that when he does look at you, it’s with the softest look, full of adoration.

In your head, you know that Fred doesn’t owe you. If he was your real boyfriend, you would’ve bought the bat for him without a second thought. You would’ve suffered through as many Madam Puddifoot’s dates with Oliver and Gabrielle as he needed you to. You would spend the night in his dorm, rather than leave when he falls asleep. You would do anything for him.

---

It’s about halfway through December when something changes.

“Y/N!” Fred calls from across the corridor. He didn’t have a class last period and it looks like he’s been waiting for you. He jogs up to you. “Mum wants to know when you’ll be joining us at the Burrow.”

You look taken aback. You shake your head briefly to shake the confused look from your features.

“I didn’t know I was coming to the Burrow?”

“You’re my girlfriend. Of course you’re coming to the Burrow,” he says like it’s common knowledge.

You grab his arm and pull into the nearest alcove, away from the students now filling the corridor.

“Fake girlfriend. I didn’t know that this extended past the wall of Hogwarts?”

Fred runs an anxious hand through his hair. “Well, I mean, Ginny’s written to Mum about you. I think Perc has mentioned you too.. You have to come. I think Mum would murder me if I broke up with you right before Christmas.”

“Merlin, Fred!” you sigh exasperated, throwing your head back and reaching to run a hand through your own hair.

“Did it get a bit out of hand? Yes. But… I mean… I’m not complaining.”

“You got a happy captain and a new bat. You have no reason to complain.”

He huffs a laugh. “I have one reason to complain.”

“Really?” you say disbelievingly.

You cross your arms and give Fred an expectant look.

“Yes, a happy captain is good and the new bat was a widely unexpected plus. But spending time with you and seeing you in my jersey? Fuck Y/N…” He paused momentarily, giving you the brief impression that spending time with you was his complaint. “My complaint is that you keep saying this is fake.”

Your expression immediately scrunches into something resembling confusion.

“Because it is? You said I’m your friend who is a girl. You called this fun.” You try to take in Fred’s unreadable expression. “Isn’t that all it’s been? Just fun to mess with people for believing a rumor? And to make Oliver happy?”

“That’s… That’s certainly how it started.”

A beat passes.

“And now?” you ask.

“I don’t think I can go back to being just friends.”

Oh.

“This… more than friends… I want it. I want it with you.”

Oh.

He stares into your eyes for a few seconds, searching for something, some kind of reaction beyond shock. Then he leans in quickly. The kiss is soft, gentle and barely there. But it happened. His lips touched yours and now you’re breathless.

He takes a step back and presses his lips together for a moment. He’s still watching you.

“Y/N… please say something,” he whispers.

Right, words. You need to say those. You open your mouth but all that comes out is a squeak.

“Is… Is that a good noise? Bad noise? Should I be running? Groveling? Going to tell George and Lee I just ruined our group?”

“Burrow,” you manage to say.

You want to disappear on the spot. That’s the word you went with? Your brain must’ve short circuited because that didn’t answer a single one of Fred’s flurry of questions. Except he seems to understand what you meant as he sighs with a small smile playing at his lips.

“Mum’s not expecting you to stay for the whole time. Honestly, I think she’d love to have you for one day. I’d like to have you there for a few days, but I know I kinda sprung this on you and you probably already have plans with your family.”

You nod. You don’t trust yourself to speak just yet. Not when your last attempt ended up with you saying ‘Burrow.’ Fred watches intently as you walk deeper into the alcove and sit down beneath the window. He cautiously sits next to you, unsure of what else to do.

“How long?” you ask quietly.

“As long as you want to stay. Mum loves hosting people.”

You shake your head and take a deep breath.

“When did it stop being fake for you?” you ask, clarifying your previous question.

“Oh…” he says with a sharp breath. “When you started regularly coming to practice.

That wasn’t long after this whole thing started, you realize. It was before he even gave you his jersey. Before you randomly gifted him a new beater’s bat. So this whole semester that you’ve been having to remind yourself that it’s fake, he’s been having to do the same thing?

“Love, can you say something?” he asks, his voice shaky and unsure. “Where do we stand?”

“I… I kept saying it was fake to remind myself that it was, that we were doing this for fun.”

Fred waits a moment for you to say more, but when you don’t, he asks again, “So where do we stand?”

“You don’t need to tell George and Lee that you ruined the friend group. As long as you don’t break my heart.”

tags: @navs-bhat

#marauder-misprint #hp fic #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #harry potter fic #lightning era #request

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boyardee-znuts · 4 months ago

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❤︎‬ first comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage... ❤︎‬ jericho ichabod x fem reader ‪ ❤︎‬ wc: 5k ❤︎‬ content warning(s): nsfw, breeding/lots of explicit mentions of pregnancy ❤︎‬ jericho ichabod is from the kid at the back being developed by fantasia-kitt ❤︎‬ mdni banner by cafekitsune

“what do you see yourself doing in the future?”

you blink, the distant twinkling light of the stars wavering as your vision refocuses. you crane your neck to the side, and you find your best friend, jericho “crowe” ichabod, peering back at you. he looks so beautiful, with his long hair loose and gazing at you as if you had hung the stars in the night sky. you almost feel a little shy from the eye contact. no matter how long you’ve been by his side, you can’t seem to properly adjust to just how sweet and effortlessly charismatic he could be.

“the future…,” you mumble over the words as if chewing them over, “well, i’d like to save my family farm, for starters. but you knew that already.”

a devious idea pops into your head, and a grin sneaks onto your face as you turn to look back into crowe’s deep blue eyes. “and once i’ve done that, i’d like to marry my best friend someday. except he’s just so awfully shy that it’ll probably take us a while to get there.”

his eyes widen before he lets out a sheepish laugh, turning away from you to poorly hide his warming cheeks. he waves his hand as if trying to create some space, but he doesn’t make any real effort to move away from you or anything. “i’m being serious here!”

“who said i wasn’t being serious?” you quickly quip. you puff your cheeks out in a display of mock frustration. “quit beating around the bush and make me an ichabod already, crowe! once we’ve done that, i think it’d be nice to have a family too. would i be being too greedy if i said i wanted three kids?”

you can tell it’s taking everything in your usually well-composed friend to keep his calm facade. he can’t quite meet your expectant gaze, and you can see the hint of a barely repressed smile threatening to overtake his countenance. his normally collected voice trembles a little when he responds to you. “you’re not being greedy so long as you’re ready to bear the responsibility of being a parent. what kind of kids are you hoping for, my starlight?”

you pause to think about it slightly. in all honesty, you’d be happy with any family you could have with crowe, kids or not. just the thought of being able to have crowe by your side like this for the rest of your life has your face feeling tingly and your heart doing cartwheels. still, it’s not like you haven’t daydreamed about this before. if you close your eyes, you can basically imagine the scene in front of you.

boughs of golden wheat bounce back and forth in the gentle breeze. the dimming sun slowly crawls across the horizon towards its resting place for the night. the persistent song of cicadas and grasshoppers fill your ears, signalling the classic symphony of summer nights you’ve always grown up with. crowe looks a little bit older in your daydream—there’s an air of refined maturity around him, but his eyes hold the same fondness towards you they’ve always had. you can hear the excited squeals of young children as they play a few feet away from you, mud smeared over their tiny hands as they try to catch the tiny bugs that flit around in the air.

“i want a cute baby. one that looks just like you,” you answer after a few moments worth of deliberation, grinning to yourself at your idyllic daydream. “what about you? if i said that i wanted kids with you, would you want them too?”

“i want anything that you want,” he smoothly entertains your idea. your happiness is contagious, another mischievous grin creeps up the corners of his mouth until he can barely hide the giggles threatening to overtake him “except i think i’d like our children to look more like you.”

he stops to let out a dreamy sigh, as if the vision of your future happiness that you painted aligns perfectly with his. it does. “my hope for my future is just about the same as yours. as long as we can stay together… i’d be happy no matter what we do.”

…

you should know by now not to joke around with crowe.

as patient and as understanding as the young man is, he’s the type of man to take your teasing and return it tenfold. he’s repaying your tantalizing words with spades, but you’re too fucked out to make heads or tails of it all.

all you care about right now is how good his body feels. you’re sitting perfectly on his lap, his thick cock in between your shaking thighs and stuffed into your drooling cunt. his pretty hands are all over your chest, and you let out a pathetic whimper as he slowly gropes at your tits, big palms massaging the soft flesh. you feel so weak against his bigger form, molded perfectly to where he wants you to be. you’re in the palm of his hand, moving exactly to how he wants you to.

“hush, starlight,” he whispers. you can hear the satisfaction in his voice. “i’m here to take care of you. you were the one that wanted this so badly. you were the one that brought this up first.”

truth is truly stranger than fiction. one moment crowe was offering to walk you home after keeping you at the park so late, and next thing you know, your mouth is on his and the two of you are stumbling into your dingy apartment. your clothes are scattered all over the floor, and your cheap mattress creaks from your combined weight with his. every time you or crowe moves slightly, it lets out a whine in protest, but you’re too preoccupied with the fact that you have his dick inside of you.

you let out another desperate cry when crowe shifts his hips slightly, rolling his length into you and grinding up into your velvety walls once he bottoms out into you. fuck—he isn’t doing anything that extreme to you, and your mind is going blank. his thrusts are so slow and sensual, not even enough to set a steady pace and more akin to cockwarming than anything else, but it feels so stupidly good to have his cock stuffed into your needy hole and stretching your pussy out. has his dick always felt this good? or are you so drunk off of your emotions that your body is betraying you this quickly?

“you were talking such a big game earlier,” his voice echoes around your ears again. “telling me that you wanted me to marry you and give you children. don’t you have me right where you want me? oh, my love… don’t tell me that you can’t take it.”

“you’re being unfair-,” you manage out weakly. “you- you feel too good inside me…! every time you rub against me, i can’t think!”

he only chuckles under his breath. “you make it so easy for me to love you… if you’re losing your mind with me only doing this much, you’re going to make me waver too… i really wanted to take my time breaking you down, but if you’re begging for it, then you really leave me no choice.”

your breath audibly hitches when his fingers roll over your hardened nipples, and you whine like a bitch in heat when he pinches at your nipples carefully, tugging ever so slightly at your tits. heat flutters up your chest and your stomach, and pleasure flashes somewhere deep in your brain. your cunt coils around his twitching length, squeezing him even more than you already were.

“don’t play with my boobs like that, i’ll go crazy!” you sob. it’s too good. you’re so in love with him that everything he does to you goes straight to your cunt. everything he does to your body feels so good that you feel like you can’t breathe.

his fingers hesitate, just hovering above your sensitive nipples. you choke down a frantic gasp, momentarily thinking that he was finally being nice enough to listen to you. but when you feel his fingertips trace down the silhouette of your body before resting in between your thighs. you grit your teeth when he starts to toy with your clit. his thrusts slow down before he keeps you grounded all the way to the hilt, stuffed straight into your cunt.

“you’re right. apologies for being so careless, my dear,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. jolts of red-hot, electric pleasure grip at your stomach. he rubs slow, sticky circles against your sensitive nub, moving just the way you like it. “how could i forget? if i really want my cum to take… i ought to make you cum a few times first. make sure you open your womb up to me…”

you can’t think. you feel like you have to physically remind yourself to breathe. inhale, exhale, while crowe pinches and presses his fingertips against your clit. it feels so good to speared open on his swollen cock, but when he’s not moving and only playing with your clit, the arousal is almost too much for you to handle. you want him to fuck you, to be true to his word and make you cum your brains out and fill you up with his babies.

“d-don’t just play with my clit…!” you eke out, desperate to feel anything. no matter how much you try to grind down on his cock and try to get some movement, crowe stays steadfast in making sure you don’t feel any excess pleasure.

you feel like you’re melting against his body. you swear you can feel his weeping tip prodding against the entrance of your womb, and you’re overwhelmed with just how much you want his cum inside you. but once crowe has his mind set on something, he isn’t the kind of person to give up.

and he thinks you’re so adorable, shuddering and falling apart the more he plays with your poor clit. the heat in your core keeps mounting relentlessly, thrashing and swirling deep in your belly as if it's a caged beast demanding to be released.

god, you’re falling apart so quickly. you’re letting out desperate, incoherent cries, stumbling over your words as you moan nonstop. “ah- feels good- you’re being so mean to me- playing with just my clit when i want- when i want you to fuck me with your cock instead…!”

crowe knows how to rip apart your seams. he’s the only man in the world that could make you cum this fast. you can feel him whispering sweet nothings to you with his characteristic amused lilt in his voice, but all of it goes straight to your pulsing cunt. you’re drooling all around him, wet walls making a mess out of his twitching cock. you’re milking him, fluttering around him so sweetly, and he wants nothing more than to give in and fuck your brains out while breeding you.

but crowe is nothing if not a gentleman. and a gentleman must be patient. you’re already at your limit, so it’s really just a matter of time before you crumble completely and crowe can move in for the sweetest kill.

“think ‘m gonna cum-,” your voice wavers so beautifully as you throw your head back. your hips lurch unconsciously, not sure whether or not to chase the overwhelming pleasure of his ministrations. “fuck- gonna cum…! gonna cum from having my clit played with-!! you’re the worst-!”

“now, my starlight, surely you don’t mean that?” he chuckles. he pinches your clit in retaliation, and he’s rewarded with such a lovely anguished cry from you. “i told you already. i’m merely preparing you for what’s to come.”

you’re clenching and unclenching all around his cock, your gummy walls clinging onto every inch of his thick length. your hands grab at whatever you can hold onto. your toes curl, and the edges of your vision are going blurry. crowe can feel his hand muscles aching, but he doesn’t want to stop, not when you’re this close to cumming.

you clench your eyes shut, jerking up against crowe’s body. “cumming- fuck- ah…! it’s too much- can’t take it- please…! i’m cumming, i’m cumming, fuck, fuck-!”

your orgasm grips you from the inside out. something deep in your tummy explodes, and heat consumes you whole. you let out a strangled cry, your voice wavering and breaking as pleasure overrides every one of your senses. your walls clamp down on his cock, and your poor cunt spasms all around him. it’s so dumb and it’s so good, just the thought of being spread open and fucked out and going dumb just from being penetrated by crowe’s cock.

ever the sweetheart, crowe keeps playing with your clit through your orgasm, jolts of electricity pooling in your stomach. even though you’re still wading senselessly through the most gripping high of your climax, crowe needs to see more from you. he’s not satisfied with plunging you into these depths once.

you push weakly at crowe’s hands when you can muster the strength to do so, your clit numb and tingling from how much crowe’s abused it. “i-i just came…! don’t keep playing with it- too much-”

somewhere deep in your mind, you can feel the dull thrums of arousal starting to awaken again. just cumming from having your clit played isn’t enough—you need more. your body’s still reeling from the electric shockwaves of your first orgasm, but at the same time, you want him to make you cum on his cock. you want him to hold your legs open and fuck load after load of his cum into you, only stopping when you both know that he’s fucked a sweet little baby into you.

just the thought has your stomach doing flips. you keep squeezing around him, subconsciously clenching and drooling all over his length. it drives him crazy to know that you’re still raring to go. you two really can’t resist each other.

“forgive me, love.” you know he’s not actually asking for forgiveness, not when you can tell that he’s far too pleased with himself. “it just feels so good when you cum around my cock…”

you whine. “you’re awful, crowe!”

his movements falter. you tense up when you feel his dick twitch inside of you. something in the air visibly shifts, and you let out a gasp when crowe’s deft fingers glide upwards across your stomach. you gasp when his sticky fingers grab at your face, and his fingertips press into your cheeks. he cranes your face slightly, exposing the side of your neck to him completely.

“crowe?” he repeats the nickname you called out. “oh, you’re breaking my heart. and here i thought that you’d at least have the decency to moan my real name…”

he presses his lips to the side of your neck, showering your sensitive skin with a flurry of sickly sweet kisses. you can feel your heart flutter as his light touches spread over your neck, the affection making you melt in his embrace.

“i want everyone to know that i’m the one who got my hands all over you,” he murmurs against your skin. “that i’m the one that made you feel this good. that i’m the one who got you pregnant. you know my name, dear. or do i have to give you a more thorough reminder?”

a chill runs down your back when you feel crowe shift his hips, and a moan lodges itself in the back of your throat as he slowly slides his cock out of you. you almost instinctively brace yourself when you can only feel his tip buried into your warmth, pussy practically leaking from how much you want to get fucked.

he thrusts. hard. one full motion to wedge his entire length back into your walls.

“jericho.” his hold on you is firm. “that’s my name. moan my name, starlight.”

he thrusts again, and you whimper when you can feel every inch of him spreading your walls out. he wiggles his hips slightly before fucking into you over and over, and you stumble over your breathing as heat claws at the inside of your tummy.

“oh- ah- jericho!” you cry out. your pussy flutters around him as you moan his name. some sick part of you is thoroughly enjoying being claimed and fucked into mindless oblivion. you’re his. all his.

pleasure shoots straight into your core like a bullet. fuck—fuck, this was all you wanted. you don’t even get a proper chance to collect your thoughts before crowe is fucking into you with a vigor you’ve never seen before, pumping his whole cock in and out of you as if he’s determined to break your cunt. your mind immediately goes blank as pleasure and heat shoot throughout your veins like a kind of poison, and his hand slides down to grip at your neck possessively.

he isn’t actively choking you, but he’s very clearly staking his claim over your body. your pleasure—and now, even your breathing—are all dependent on how merciful he’s feeling. you can feel your stomach tie itself into knots at the thought. he’s so kind and yet so demanding at times, and just thinking about being tied down to him forever has your cunt tightening up with need.

he laughs softly. you can feel some of his long hair brush up against you when he leans forward to press another kiss to your throat. “there we go. much better, isn’t it? say my name again.”

even though he isn’t moving particularly fast, he’s moving deep and hard. each full-bodied stroke has you seeing stars. you’re gasping for air whenever his tip presses up deep inside of you, just ghosting over that one spot jericho knows you love so much.

“jericho! jericho- fuck!” your mind’s getting all scrambled up. “wh-what more do you want from me?”

“you said it yourself earlier. you want a baby with me.” his hold on your neck shifts slightly, and his teeth ghost over your neck. your walls contort around him. a chilling plunge of pleasure creeps down your spine at the thought of him biting you. your mind spins as you envision yourself, all fucked out and babbling, as jericho sinks his fangs into your skin and marks you both inside and out.

you brace yourself when you hear him suck in an inhale. with a well-timed thrust, he bites down on your neck. pain momentarily shoots through your body, but you let out a loud moan as it dissolves into a kind of mind numbing pleasure. you can feel him applying just enough pressure to leave a mark, wanting everyone to see who it was that laid their hands all over you. it makes your insides stir.

“jericho, you- you’re so…!” you can’t bring yourself to finish your statement. you’re bouncing shamelessly on his lap, unable to get enough of the addictive rush shooting through your body. his tongue lovingly laps over the bite marks on your neck, and another shiver runs down your spine.

“i know, my dear, i know…i want to make you mine. through and through,” he whispers against his handiwork. his hands are moving all over you now: caressing your sides, pressing against your stomach, tracing the outline of your thighs. “you understand, don’t you? i can feel you tightening up around me… you like this as much as i do, don’t you?”

you don’t have anything to say to him. you let out another round of incoherent cries as he fucks you over and over on his cock, your hips lewdly moving up and down in a feverish need to take as much of him as you can. jericho knows how to read you to filth, and even now, as he fucks you open on his cock, all you can think of is how he’s the only one that could ever make you feel this good. he’s stuffing you full, and the promise of having your womb filled with his sticky cum makes your mind spin.

you’re going insane. your cunt offers no resistance, your juices only making it that much easier for him to slide his entire length in and out, in and out of you. the pressure in your stomach only grows and grows. the heat in your body twists and slinks around under your skin, and the overstimulation makes your mind go blank. you need it, you want it, but god, it makes it feel like your body’s being set on fire.

“ah! if you- if you fuck me with your whole cock after you’ve made me cum, i’ll actually lose my mind!” you protest weakly. that stupid jericho! he knows your body too well, and he’s using every scrap of knowledge against you. he’s making you feel so good that you think you’ll go crazy, and he looks as unfazed as ever.

his voice is laced with a kind of lovesickness as he bounces you on his lap, wet sounds of skin on skin echoing all the room. “so tight- so tight and wet… perfect for my cock, perfect to be bred… you’re taking me so well. it makes me so happy to know that you wanted this as much as i did.”

his hands go to cup your chest, and he’s back to unapologetically groping your tits while bouncing you on his cock. you grit your teeth as he deftly teases your nipples, tugging on them just the slightest bit. your senses are fried to hell and back, overwhelmed with everything he’s doing to you. your previous orgasm only accentuates the pleasure, your clit tingling as his heavy balls slap up against it with each calculated stroke.

“so pretty… doing so good for me…” even his praise feels like teasing, especially when his tip is bullying your cervix. his thrusts are faster, deeper now, focused entirely on maximizing how good you feel so that he can fill you up. his palms squeeze at your tits greedily. “i can’t wait to see how pretty you’ll be with my baby inside of you. swollen and glowing, all because of me… can’t wait for your pretty chest to be filled with milk too… leaking with milk to feed our babies…”

your cunt clenches around him. his words are going straight to your pussy. his hips shift, and you think you’re going to cum. you can’t take it anymore, everything has been boiling up inside of you. just thinking about how much you’ve longed for him, longed for a future with him, makes your heart swell up. you really must be nothing more than a lovestruck pervert, getting off this much to the thought of your first love marrying you and fucking a baby into you.

“‘m gonna cum!” you whine. “if you talk like that- fuck me like that- i’ll cum!”

“that’s what i’m here for,” he grunts. his balls twitch against your entrance when he hears you whimpering about cumming, and you know he’s getting close to his limit too. his once sharp thrusts are getting more and more sloppy, and his breathing is also growing more shallow and ragged. “it’s alright… cum as much as you want. are you close?”

“yes-,” you choke out. your vision is growing hazy, blurring around the edges. you’re not sure how to comprehend all of the stimuli racking up on your body, but you want more of it. you love being stretched out jericho’s cock, love being fucked stupid, love it when he uses your body the way he wants to. “so close- wanna cum so badly…!”

“tell me you love me,” he pants out. something in your stomach lurches. your cunt keeps milking his cock, desperate to be painted white with his cum, and it’s driving him just as crazy. “it takes two people in love to make a baby… tell me you love me, and then- and then, i’ll let you cum as much as you want.”

your heart stirs inside of your chest. that’s so like jericho to believe in something like that. you don’t doubt your emotions towards the princely young man. your attraction, your trust, and your connection to him all has to stem from that simple four letter word that has you acting simultaneously like a maniac and a fiend for another taste of his attention. there’s no other word that can be used to describe why your body reacts this much to his touches, why you keen and crumble under every one of his kisses, why it always feels like heaven when you give into his disarming advances.

“i love you! i love you, jericho!” you moan out. you feel so full, so giddy, so drunk off of everything he makes you feel. his cock stutters inside of you as jericho takes a second to soak up your confession, the slightly possessive edge he tries so hard not to show flickering somewhere underneath his demeanor.

“i love you too, my starlight. i love you. i love you.” he fucks harder into you, and if it weren’t for his tight grip on you, you might have collapsed entirely against his chest by now. “let’s be together forever.”

his hips stutter against yours, and he grabs at your hips, yanking you down as far as you can take him. you let out a strangled cry, your voice tinged with need, as you feel him push into you until he bottoms out inside of your cunt. you instinctively brace yourself. you just need a little more. just a little push, and all the pressure building up in your core could come loose.

“ah-!”

you feel his cock twitch and throb dangerously inside you, and something deep inside your stomach explodes. ropes of sticky cum flood your womb, and you can’t take it anymore. jericho shifts his hips against yours, grinding up against your pussy, and you’re cumming your brains out with a cry of his name. the knot in your stomach snaps, and you’re gushing around him, your juices mixing together with his. you can feel his semen seep deeper and deeper into you, settling somewhere so deep inside you that you think you can feel it take almost immediately.

your head feels heavy, overrun with the ecstasy of something bordering between love and submission. you came from being creampied, from having a baby fucked into your cunt. you can feel jericho’s soft pants fan out against the back of your neck as he buries his face where your shoulder meets your throat, lips glossing over your sweaty skin. he lets you ride out your high, and you swallow thickly, much needed air filling your strained lungs. he keeps you firmly planted on his lap, using his cock to keep all of his cum plugged up inside of your cunt.

“i came-,” you breathe. your voice sounds so weak and soft. “i came from getting creampied…!”

“you did well. that’s my darling.” jericho presses another flurry of sweet kisses to your body, and you can’t help but feel a little shy when his hand ghosts over your lower stomach again, right where his cum is settling inside of you. his fingertips trace the shape of a small heart. “you’re going to look so, so beautiful with my children. you’ll be glowing. i’m sure of it. i’ll take such good care of you. i promise i will.”

heat rushes to your face at the thought of being fawned over even further than jericho already does over you. you can feel his half-soft-half-hard cock stir inside of you at the thought of you pregnant, and you bite back a small laugh. for someone so gentle and so thoughtful about his every action and word, he really just couldn’t control himself around you. his palm presses up against your stomach carefully, and you sigh when you can feel his cum sloshing around inside of your belly. your head still feels a little fuzzy from the electric aftershocks of your back-to-back orgasms, but with jericho’s cock buried snugly inside you and keeping you plugged up and full with his semen, you can’t help but want another taste of the divine bliss.

“someone looks like they could go for another round.” you crane your neck and raise your hand to comb your fingers through jericho’s silky hair. “already getting hard again?”

“we can take a break if you want.” his lips stretch out into an angelic grin, and he moves into your calming touch. “but… i want to make sure it takes properly. wouldn’t hurt to keep going just a little more… i’ll make sure you feel good the entire time, my starlight. that’s my job, after all.”

it’s your turn to smile at him. you’d be lying if the thought of getting fucked senseless in all sorts of positions all night until you have no choice but to get knocked up didn’t turn you on. you know that you’re the reason jericho’s this insatiable, and having given him the okay only made it that much easier for him to drag you into the depths of his infatuation.

“tell me you love me first,” you mimic his words from not too long ago. “then i’ll let you go at it.”

surprise flickers across his pretty face, but it quickly melts away into a fondness in his eyes that he reserves solely for you. your heart swells with affection as he moves in to kiss your face, his lips fluttering all over your jaw and cheeks before landing on the corners of your lips.

“i love you. i promise to love you forever. let’s spend the rest of your lives together, okay?” he asks tenderly before capturing you into a deep kiss. you reciprocate, letting him kiss you over and over again until you can feel your skin tingle dangerously again.

“of course. i love you too, jericho.”

élisabeth vigée le brun: marie antoinette and her children

#the kid at the back #tkatb #the kid at the back x reader #tkatb x reader #tkatb crowe #the kid at the back crowe #jericho ichabod #x reader #fem reader #my writing #THIS MAN MAKES ME INSANE! I NEED HIM! WAUGH

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