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mywhisperingwords · 2 months ago

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never will be | fred g. weasley

summary: if one more person called fred your boyfriend, you were going to hex them—and then probably yourself for wishing it were true word count: 5.8k masterlist

“Seriously, though,” Angelina said, leaning against the Gryffindor common room sofa with a sly grin, “when are you two finally going to admit it?”

“Admit what?” Fred asked, looking up from the deck of Exploding Snap cards he was shuffling.

“That you’re dating,” George chimed in from across the room, tossing a chocolate frog wrapper into the fire.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. “For the hundredth time, we’re not dating.”

“Not yet, at least,” Angelina muttered, smirking at you.

Fred laughed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Don’t listen to them. They’re just bored and trying to start drama.”

George snorted. “Says the bloke who can’t go two hours without dragging her off to help with one of his pranks.”

“That’s because she’s got steady hands,” Fred argued, flashing you a grin that made your stomach flip. “Best partner-in-crime I could ask for.”

“Mm-hmm,” George said, exchanging a knowing look with Angelina.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks but forced a casual laugh. “Exactly. Partners-in-crime. Nothing more.”

Fred’s grin widened, oblivious to the way your voice faltered on the last words.

Later that evening, as you sat in your usual spot in the common room, Fred plopped down beside you, his long legs stretching out in front of him.

George and Angelina had finally left you alone, their laughter about your so-called “relationship” fading into the background.

Fred tossed a bright green bean into the air, catching it in his mouth. “Honestly, they’re relentless. Next thing you know, they’ll be planning our wedding.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, definitely. George would insist on fireworks during the vows.”

“And Angelina would probably hex the cake to explode in my face,” Fred added, grinning.

“Not that you wouldn’t deserve it,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

Fred gasped dramatically. “Me? Deserve it? Please, I’d be the perfect groom. You, on the other hand…”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”

Fred smirked, leaning back in his chair. “You’d probably spend the entire ceremony arguing with me about the flowers or the seating arrangements.”

“Only because you’d insist on something ridiculous, like having a Quidditch match instead of a reception,” you shot back, laughing.

“See? Proves my point,” Fred said, throwing another bean into his mouth.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. The conversation was silly, but it sent a pang through your chest all the same. For a moment, you wondered—what if it weren’t so ridiculous? What if you weren’t just friends?

“Guess it’s a good thing we’d never actually be a couple,” you said lightly, testing the waters.

Fred snorted, not catching the slight hesitation in your voice. “You’ve got that right. Can you imagine? We’d probably kill each other within a week.”

Your smile faltered for a split second, but you quickly recovered, laughing along with him. “True. It would be a disaster.”

“An entertaining one, though,” Fred added, grinning at you.

You laughed again, but the ache in your chest lingered as his words played over in your mind. A disaster.

Fred, oblivious, tossed the box of beans onto the table and stretched his arms over his head. “Anyway, who needs all that relationship nonsense? We’re better off just being us.”

“Right,” you said softly, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. “Just us.”

But as you watched Fred lean back, his expression carefree and content, you made a silent decision.

It was time to stop hoping for something that would never happen. It was time to move on.

A couple days later, Fred dropped into the seat next to you in the common room, his typical big grin directed at you. “Fancy sneaking out to the kitchens? I was thinking a snack, but maybe we could even go for a full-course meal if the house-elves are feeling generous.”

You didn’t look up from your book, keeping your voice steady. “Can’t. I’ve got plans tonight.”

Fred tilted his head, frowning. “Plans? With who?”

“Just plans,” you said vaguely, flipping a page.

Fred narrowed his eyes, studying you for a moment, but you didn’t elaborate. Eventually, he shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Your loss. More food for me.”

You hummed noncommittally, keeping your gaze fixed on the words in front of you.

Later that evening, Fred was sprawled on the sofa near the fire, George and Lee arguing over a card game beside him. Angelina sauntered in, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail.

“Oi, Ang,” Fred called, waving her over. “What’s she up to tonight?”

Angelina raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“You know who. She said she had plans.”

Angelina hesitated for half a second before smirking. “She’s got a date.”

Fred blinked, the words not registering immediately. “A date?”

“Yeah,” Angelina said, sitting on the arm of the sofa. “With that bloke from Ravenclaw—what’s his name? Aaron? Aiden?”

“Andrew,” George supplied helpfully, grinning.

“Right. Andrew,” Angelina said, crossing her arms. “Apparently, he’s been asking her out for ages, and she finally said yes.”

Fred frowned, a strange tightness forming in his chest. “Huh.”

George glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Fred?”

“No,” Fred said quickly, shaking his head. “Why would there be?”

George exchanged a look with Lee, who raised an amused eyebrow. But neither of them said anything, much to Fred’s relief.

Meanwhile you were trying your best to focus on Andrew as he told you about his latest Quidditch practice. He was charming, handsome, and undeniably kind. Exactly the type of person you should be going out with.

But as much as you tried to stay engaged, your mind kept wandering. His laugh wasn’t quite as infectious. His jokes weren’t quite as sharp. And when he leaned in slightly to brush his hand against yours, your chest didn’t flutter the way you wanted it to.

You forced a smile, reminding yourself why you were here. Andrew had always been good to you, and after Fred’s clear rejection, it was time to stop holding onto something that wasn’t going to happen.

“Are you alright?” Andrew asked, his voice soft as he studied your face.

“Yes,” you said quickly, sitting up straighter. “Sorry, just a bit distracted. It’s been a long week.”

Andrew smiled, his eyes warm. “I get it. I’m glad you said yes, though. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

You felt a pang of guilt but managed another smile. “Me too.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Andrew deserved a chance, and you were determined to give it to him.

Still, as the evening wore on, you couldn’t help but wonder what Fred was doing. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the thought that you wished he were sitting across from you instead.

You had done your best to steer clear of Fred over the past few days. You weren’t sure why, if someone dared to ask. Maybe you wanted to avoid telling him about your date or maybe talking to Fred would force you to acknowledge that moving on was harder than you thought.

It wasn’t easy, avoiding Fred, considering he had a knack for showing up everywhere you didn’t want him to be.

And, naturally, today was no exception.

“Oi!” Fred’s voice rang out from behind you as you made your way down the hallway after class. “Wait up!”

You considered pretending not to hear him, but the sound of his footsteps catching up told you there was no escaping this time.

“Hey,” he said, falling into step beside you. His usual grin was in place, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Haven’t seen much of you lately. Been avoiding me or something?”

You gave a half-hearted laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. Just… busy.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Busy with what? Or should I say who?”

Your stomach twisted at the question, but you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Angelina mentioned you went on a date,” Fred said, his tone light and teasing, though his eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. “Figured you’d be too busy swooning over this Andrew bloke to hang out with your real friends.”

You rolled your eyes, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. “It was just a date, Fred. No swooning involved.”

Fred tilted his head, studying you. “Come on. Spill. What’s he like? Is he as funny as me? Doubt it.”

You hesitated, your heart hammering as you searched his face for any hint of jealousy, any sign that this conversation bothered him. But Fred’s grin was firmly in place, his tone casual and carefree.

“He’s nice,” you said finally, keeping your voice even. “Really nice.”

Fred’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments before returning. “Nice, huh? That’s a glowing review.”

You shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. “What else do you want me to say?”

“I dunno,” Fred said, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe that he’s secretly boring or has terrible taste in music. Something I can mock him for.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, but it quickly faded as the tension in your chest tightened.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Well, if he’s so bloody great, maybe we should invite him to hang out with us sometime.”

Your head snapped toward him, your eyes narrowing. “Are you serious?”

Fred shrugged, his grin turning lopsided. “Why not? He could use a proper Weasley test. See if he can keep up.”

You shook your head, muttering under your breath. “You’re impossible.”

Fred watched you closely, his grin slipping just enough to reveal the confusion beneath it. He didn’t know why the thought of you with Andrew left a sour taste in his mouth, but he was determined to ignore it.

Maybe it was just because he didn’t know the guy. Or because he didn’t want to lose his favorite partner-in-crime to some bloke from Ravenclaw. That had to be it.

Definitely not because he cared more than he should.

The common room buzzed with its usual post-dinner chaos. Fred was in his element, loudly challenging George to an Exploding Snap rematch after a questionable loss earlier, when you walked in with Andrew.

Fred’s laughter faltered for half a second, but he quickly covered it up with a grin. “Well, well, look who decided to join us. Ravenclaw royalty.”

“Hi, Fred,” you said, your voice neutral but carrying an edge of warning.

Andrew smiled politely, clearly unfazed. “Hey. I thought I’d take you up on your offer to hang out.”

“Brave of you,” Fred quipped, gesturing to the chaos around him. “We’re not exactly Ravenclaw standards of refined.”

Andrew chuckled. “I can handle it.”

George appeared beside Fred, grinning broadly. “Andrew, right? You’re the Quidditch guy. Chaser, yeah?”

“That’s me,” Andrew said, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Always nice to have another flyer in the group,” George said, clapping him on the back. “Ignore Fred if he gets too annoying.”

“Oi!” Fred protested, but George was already leading Andrew to the sofa, chatting about brooms and game strategies.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Play nice,” you muttered as you passed Fred, taking a seat near Angelina and Lee.

Fred watched as Andrew settled into the group, answering questions and laughing at everyone’s jokes with ease. His jaw tightened when Angelina leaned over to whisper, “He’s charming, isn’t he?”

“Sure,” Fred said, his voice flat.

An hour later, everyone seemed to be getting along swimmingly—except Fred.

He wasn’t outright rude to Andrew, but his usual teasing had a sharper edge tonight. Every time Andrew spoke, Fred had a quick quip or an exaggerated eye roll.

When Andrew mentioned his house winning the latest match, Fred chimed in with, “Ravenclaw’s strategy, isn’t it? Win the game, lose the fun.”

George elbowed Fred, but Andrew only laughed. “We take Quidditch seriously. Some of us, at least.”

Fred grinned tightly. “Right. Because fun has no place in sports.”

“Okay,” you interjected, cutting through the growing tension. “Who wants snacks? I’ll get some from the kitchens.”

“I’ll help,” Andrew offered, standing up.

You hesitated, glancing briefly at Fred before nodding. “Sure. Let’s go.”

After you and Andrew left the common room, Fred slumped back into his chair, muttering something under his breath.

“What’s your problem?” George asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Problem? I don’t have a problem,” Fred said quickly.

“Sure you don’t,” Angelina said, smirking as she leaned against the armrest. “You’re only acting like a jealous git.”

Fred scoffed. “Jealous? Please. I just think he’s boring.”

George chuckled. “Yeah, he’s awful. Friendly, charming, loves Quidditch—how dare he?”

Fred scowled but didn’t reply, his gaze fixed on the door you’d just walked through.

When you and Andrew returned, the evening had mostly calmed down. Fred kept to himself, though his eyes followed you whenever you weren’t looking.

As the group began to disband for the night, Andrew turned to you, his smile warm and easy. “I had a great time the other night. Do you think you’d want to do it again? Soon?”

Fred’s head snapped up at Andrew’s words, but he quickly looked away, pretending to fidget with his deck of cards.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering to Fred for just a moment. His usual grin was gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and averted eyes. Ignoring him and the little voice in the back of your mind, you turned back to Andrew.

“Sure,” you said with a smile. “I’d like that.”

Andrew’s grin widened. “Great. I’ll find you tomorrow to figure out the details.”

You nodded, and as Andrew left, you glanced back at Fred one last time. He was shuffling his cards with unnecessary force, avoiding your gaze entirely. Weird.

Over the next couple of weeks, your relationship with Andrew began to take shape. Slowly but surely, he worked his way into your life.

He wasn’t overly pushy or demanding, which you appreciated, and he had a way of making you laugh—though not quite as effortlessly as Fred could.

Still, it felt nice to have someone show genuine interest in you, even if the spark you were hoping for wasn’t quite there yet.

Of course, Andrew didn’t just win you over—he charmed everyone.

“Well, he’s bloody polite,” George said one evening after Andrew left the common room. “And he brought snacks. Can’t argue with that.”

Angelina nodded in agreement. “He’s sweet. You picked a good one.”

“Of course she did,” Fred muttered, slumping lower in his chair.

Lee gave Fred a side-eye. “You alright, mate? You’ve been acting off lately.”

“I’m fine,” Fred said quickly, grabbing a deck of cards and shuffling them with unnecessary vigor. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Lee raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further.

The thing was, Fred wasn’t fine.

He didn’t know what it was about Andrew that rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe it was how the bloke always seemed to be around now, sitting beside you in the common room or leaning in too close when you laughed at one of his jokes.

Fred told himself it was just the newness of it all. You’d always been his person—his partner-in-crime, his go-to for pranks, his late-night snack accomplice. And now Andrew was stealing you away.

It was irritating.

But Fred wasn’t jealous. Definitely not.

One afternoon, the group decided to head down to the lake to take advantage of the rare sunny weather.

Andrew and George carried the food, Angelina and Lee brought the blankets, and you walked ahead with Fred, your pace slowing as you chatted.

“So,” Fred said casually, kicking a stone along the path, “how’s Prince Charming?”

You gave him a look. “He has a name, you know.”

“Right. Andy.”

“Andrew,” you corrected, rolling your eyes.

“Same thing,” Fred said with a shrug.

You sighed. “He’s fine. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Fred said, though his tone was anything but casual. “Just wondering how long he plans to stick around.”

“Why? You planning to scare him off?” you asked, your voice teasing but laced with curiosity.

Fred grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Before you could respond, Andrew called your name from behind, jogging to catch up with you.

Fred fell silent, his jaw tightening as Andrew slipped into step beside you, his hand brushing yours as he walked.

By the time you reached the lake, Fred was thoroughly annoyed.

As everyone settled on the blankets, Andrew took the spot beside you, leaning close to whisper something that made you laugh. Fred sat across from you, stabbing at his sandwich with unnecessary force.

“You alright there, Fred?” Angelina asked, nudging him with her foot.

“Fine,” Fred said tightly, taking an aggressive bite.

George smirked. “You know, for someone who doesn’t care, you’re awfully bothered.”

Fred glared at his twin but said nothing.

As the sun began to set, Andrew offered to walk you back to the castle, and you accepted with a smile. Fred watched the two of you leave, his chest tightening as your laughter faded into the distance.

“Mate,” George said, clapping Fred on the shoulder. “You’ve got it bad.”

Fred scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” George said with a knowing grin.

If there was one thing Fred Weasley prided himself on, it was his ability to remain unshakable. Cool under pressure. Steady in the face of chaos.

Except, apparently, when Andrew was around.

“I’m just saying,” Fred declared loudly, leaning back in his chair with the kind of dramatic flair that immediately drew everyone’s attention, “no one is that nice. It’s suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” Angelina repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” Fred said, gesturing wildly as if this were common knowledge. “No one can laugh at every single joke. Even George’s bad ones.”

“Oi!” George protested, though he was grinning. “My jokes are masterpieces.”

Andrew, seated comfortably next to you, chuckled. “I don’t know, George. That one about the Blast-Ended Skrewts last week was a bit of a stretch.”

Fred’s eyes narrowed. “See? Right there. He’s even polite when he’s being critical. Who does that?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Fred, are you really mad because Andrew is nice?”

“I’m not mad!” Fred insisted, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I’m just… observant. He’s too nice. It’s unnatural.”

“Fred,” Lee said, struggling to keep a straight face, “I think you might be allergic to decent human behavior.”

The group erupted in laughter, and for a moment, even you couldn’t hide your amusement. But Fred wasn’t done yet.

“Mark my words,” Fred continued, pointing dramatically at Andrew, “this whole ‘charming and perfect’ act is going to crack one day. And when it does—”

Andrew held up his hands, laughing lightly. “Alright, you’ve got me. I’ll admit it: I burned toast once. Twice, actually. Sometimes I even leave the cap off the toothpaste.”

“Oh, the horror,” Lee said, clutching his chest mockingly. “Fred, are you sure we’re safe in his presence?”

Fred scowled, muttering something under his breath.

You shot him a look, your patience wearing thin. “Fred, if you’re so bothered by something, maybe you should do something about it.”

Fred blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in your tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, standing to grab a glass of water. “Exactly what it sounds like.”

Fred watched you leave the room, the weight of your words settling uncomfortably in his chest.

“What’s her problem?” he muttered, glancing at the others.

Angelina snorted. “You’re joking, right?”

Fred frowned. “What?”

George exchanged a look with Lee, barely containing his laughter. “Oh, nothing,” George said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you acting like a jealous prat every time Andrew breathes in her direction.”

“I’m not jealous!” Fred shot back, his voice a little too loud.

“Sure you’re not,” Lee said, patting him on the shoulder.

Angelina leaned forward, her smirk practically glowing. “Fred, has it ever occurred to you that you’re not mad at Andrew? You’re mad because he’s with her, and you’re not.”

Fred opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. He shut it again, glaring at the lot of them as they burst into laughter.

“Honestly,” George said, shaking his head. “I’ve seen Blast-Ended Skrewts with more self-awareness.”

Fred groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You’re all useless,” he muttered.

“Hey, we’re just here to point out the obvious,” Lee said with a grin. “The rest is up to you, lover boy.”

The Three Broomsticks was warm and bustling with chatter, the kind of lively atmosphere that could distract anyone from their troubles.

Fred leaned back in his chair, nursing a mug of butterbeer, and let the noise wash over him.

It had been weeks since he’d felt this at ease. For once, he wasn’t thinking about Andrew or the way he seemed to occupy every spare moment of your time.

Because, for the first time in a long while, it was just the group—George, Lee, Angelina, you, and him—laughing, joking, and bickering like always. And with you sitting across from him, grinning over the rim of your butterbeer as you teased George about his latest failed prank, Fred felt… content.

Comfortable. Like everything was back to normal.

But then the door to the pub opened, letting in a gust of cold air and a familiar figure.

Fred’s stomach twisted the moment he saw Andrew.

“Hey, everyone,” Andrew said, his smile easy and confident as he approached the table.

Fred tried to focus on his drink, on George cracking a joke, on literally anything else—but then Andrew leaned down, his hand brushing your shoulder, and kissed you.

It wasn’t long, just a brief, casual kiss on the lips, but it might as well have been a Bludger to Fred’s chest.

The laughter at the table carried on, the others welcoming Andrew like they always did, but Fred barely heard a word. His mind was spinning, his heart racing, and for the first time, he couldn’t keep up the denial.

It wasn’t just irritation. It wasn’t just protectiveness.

It was jealousy.

Pure, undeniable jealousy.

And it wasn’t just because Andrew had you—it was because Fred wanted you.

The realization hit him like a brick wall. Every time you laughed at Andrew’s jokes, every time you brushed his hand with yours, every time you smiled at him with that soft, affectionate look in your eyes—it burned.

Because Fred wanted to be the one making you laugh, holding your hand, earning your smiles.

But it wasn’t him. And now, sitting here, watching Andrew slide into the seat beside you, his arm draped casually over the back of your chair, Fred finally understood why it hurt so much.

Fred paced the length of the Gryffindor common room like a man possessed, his hands raking through his hair as George, Angelina, and Lee lounged on the sofa, watching with varying degrees of amusement.

“She kissed him,” Fred muttered for the fiftieth time, his voice tinged with both disbelief and frustration.

“Yes, Fred,” Angelina said patiently, not bothering to hide her smirk. “We were all there. You don’t need to recap.”

“But—” Fred turned on his heel, his expression wild. “How did I not see it before? How did none of you tell me?”

George snorted. “Mate, we’ve been dropping hints for years. You’re just thick.”

“Excuse me?” Fred stopped pacing long enough to glare at his twin.

Lee chimed in, grinning. “He’s right, you know. It’s been painfully obvious to everyone but you. Honestly, we were starting to think you’d never figure it out.”

Fred groaned, collapsing into a chair and burying his face in his hands. “What am I supposed to do now? She’s happy with Andrew. I can’t just…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“You could do nothing,” Angelina suggested, crossing her arms. “Let her be happy. Maybe keep your mouth shut for once in your life.”

Fred glared at her. “Thanks for the support, Ang. Really helpful.”

“I’m just saying,” Angelina continued, shrugging. “If you care about her, maybe you don’t ruin things for her. It’s not about you, Fred.”

George tilted his head. “Or—and hear me out—you could tell her how you feel and let her decide.”

Lee grinned. “Or—and this is my favorite option—you stage an elaborate prank to scare off Andrew, then swoop in as the knight in shining armor.”

Fred groaned again, throwing his head back against the chair. “You’re all useless.”

“Hey, I’m giving you options,” Lee said defensively.

“Yeah,” George added. “And Angelina’s just saying what she’d do if she were you. Personally, I think you should grow a pair and tell her the truth.”

Fred shot him a look. “It’s not that simple.”

“It never is,” Angelina said, her tone softer now. “But you’ve got to figure it out, Fred. Otherwise, you’re just going to keep driving yourself—and the rest of us—mad.”

The sound of the portrait hole opening drew their attention, and there you were, stepping inside with your bag slung over one shoulder and a slight frown on your face.

Fred’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately sat up straighter, trying to look normal—which, of course, only made him look even more suspicious.

“Everything okay?” you asked, glancing between the group and Fred’s suspiciously guilty expression.

“Fine!” Fred said quickly, his voice a little too loud.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push, instead walking over to your usual spot by the fire. You dropped your bag on the floor and pulled out a stack of parchment, rifling through it with a small, frustrated sigh.

Fred couldn’t take his eyes off you. It wasn’t anything special—just you being you—but the way your hair caught the firelight, the tiny furrow in your brow as you concentrated, the way you bit your lip when something didn’t go right…

In that moment, Fred knew.

Knew that no one else would ever make him feel the way you did. Knew that no one else would ever measure up to you. Knew that he couldn’t keep this to himself anymore.

Now he just had to figure out how to tell you.

“Merlin, he’s gone,” George muttered, nudging Angelina. “Look at him.”

Fred ignored them, his mind racing as he tried to think of something—anything—to say. But for once in his life, words failed him.

Fred had never been one to overthink things. Usually, he went with his gut, said whatever was on his mind, and dealt with the consequences later. But when it came to you, every plan he came up with seemed doomed from the start.

The first time he tried, it was on the way to Charms. He’d spotted you walking ahead, your bag slung over one shoulder and your hair bouncing as you moved. His heart did that stupid thing where it sped up, and before he could stop himself, he called your name.

“Hey,” you said, slowing to let him catch up.

“Hey,” he replied, suddenly feeling like his tongue had turned to lead.

You smiled at him, that warm, easy smile that made his chest ache. “What’s up?”

Fred opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Andrew appeared from the other direction.

“There you are,” Andrew said, grinning as he slipped an arm around your waist.

Fred’s jaw clenched, but he forced a smile. “Right. See you in class,” he mumbled, walking off before either of you could reply.

The second attempt came during a group study session in the library.

Fred had been unusually quiet, his eyes darting to you every few seconds. You were sitting across from him, absently twirling your quill as you read over your notes.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, leaning forward.

You looked up, tilting your head. “Yeah?”

“I—”

“Shh!” Madam Pince hissed from across the room, glaring at Fred like he’d just set one of her precious books on fire.

Fred sighed, leaning back in his chair as George smirked beside him. “Smooth,” George muttered under his breath.

The third time wasn’t even his fault.

He’d waited until you were alone in the common room, curled up in your usual chair by the fire. It was late, and most of the others had gone to bed, leaving the room quiet and cozy.

Fred took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he approached. “Hey, can we talk?”

You looked up at him, your expression soft but curious. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Fred hesitated, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue. This was it. He just had to say it.

But before he could, Lee burst into the room, laughing loudly about something George had apparently done. The noise startled both of you, and whatever fragile moment had been building between you vanished in an instant.

Fred sighed, watching as you smiled politely at Lee’s antics before heading upstairs to your dorm.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Andrew was as kind and attentive as ever, but your heart wasn’t fully in it. You caught yourself zoning out during conversations, your mind drifting to memories of late-night laughs and pranks with Fred.

Andrew noticed.

“You’ve been a bit distant lately,” he said one evening as you sat together by the lake. His tone was calm but serious, his eyes searching yours.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, though you weren’t sure what you were apologizing for.

Andrew smiled faintly, shaking his head. “We should talk. Really talk.”

You nodded, your stomach twisting with unease and the underlying feeling of already knowing what was about to come.

The rain fell steadily, soaking through your cloak and chilling you to the bone, but you didn’t care. After your conversation with Andrew, you’d needed space to think, to feel, to breathe.

That was why you stayed in the same spot he left you in, even when it began to pour.

But tonight, the storm wasn’t just inside.

The sound of footsteps on the dock pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to see Fred, his red hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his clothes.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice carrying over the rain.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets, looking equal parts frustrated and relieved. “I could ask you the same thing.”

You shrugged, turning your gaze back to the water. “Needed to think.”

Fred hesitated, then stepped closer, the wood creaking under his weight. “And you couldn’t think inside? Where it’s dry?”

You huffed a laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Guess not.”

An awkward silence stretched between you as the rain continued to fall. Fred shifted on his feet, clearly trying to work up the courage to say something.

He hadn’t planned this, hadn’t thought through what he wanted to say.

“You’re really something, you know that?” he blurted finally, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “You’re out here in the rain, and I’m the idiot who followed you, and… Merlin, I don’t even know where to start.”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression guarded. “Then don’t.”

Fred shook his head. “No, I have to. Because—because you drive me mad. You’re all I can think about, and it’s infuriating because I don’t even know when it started, but it’s just… there. All the time.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his voice.

“You know, Andrew is… perfect, really. Kind, understanding. Says all the right things. And he’s right. He’s everything I should want.”

Fred’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. “If he’s so perfect, then why are you out here? With me?”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and you blinked, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Why, if Andrew’s so perfect, are you standing out here in the rain with me instead of him?” Fred pressed, his voice soft but insistent.

Your chest ached, and before you could stop yourself, the truth spilled out. “Because he’s not you, Fred! He never was.”

Fred stared at you, his breath hitching as your words sank in.

You laughed bitterly, swiping at your wet face. “Andrew is kind and caring and everything I should want. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s not you. And that’s why we ended things. He knows he’s not the one I want to be with.”

Fred didn’t move for a moment, as though your words had stunned him. His wide eyes searched yours, raindrops slipping down his face, mingling with the uncertainty you saw flicker there.

But then, something shifted. Determination sparked in his gaze, and in one swift motion, he stepped forward, closing the distance between you. His hands, rough yet gentle, cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your rain-damp cheeks.

The kiss came like a thunderclap—fierce, overwhelming, impossible to ignore. His lips claimed yours with a desperation that stole the breath from your lungs, as though this was the only way he could make you understand everything he couldn’t say.

The rain blurred everything around you—the trees, the lake, the world itself—but Fred’s warmth anchored you. His hands trembled slightly against your skin, betraying the vulnerability beneath his boldness.

A soft gasp escaped you as your fingers curled into the fabric of his soaked shirt, pulling him closer instinctively. The rain had drenched you both, but Fred’s heat seeped through the layers, making you feel like nothing else mattered.

His lips moved against yours, earnest and unrelenting, as though he feared you might slip away if he didn’t hold on tightly enough. And yet, there was no demand in his kiss, only a raw, aching need that left you dizzy.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Fred rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. His hands stayed on your face, as if letting go would break the fragile moment between you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but firm, his thumb brushing away the rain—or was it a tear?—from your cheek. “Forgive me?”

The rain continued to fall, cold and relentless, but it didn’t matter. Fred’s eyes searched yours, unguarded and full of something that made your chest ache.

“Always,” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute.

Fred’s lips curved into the faintest smile before he kissed you again, softer this time but no less consuming.

From a distance, George and Lee watched from the cover of a nearby tree, Angelina holding an umbrella over them with a triumphant smirk.

“Told you,” George said smugly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lee muttered, crossing his arms, but not before handing George the bag. “I still say it’s weird to bet on your brother’s love life.”

“Not when it’s this predictable,” Angelina chimed in, snatching a Galleon from the bag. “You’re welcome, by the way. I made this happen.”

“You did nothing,” George said, rolling his eyes. “They’re just idiots. Idiots in love.”

#harry potter #fic #fred weasley #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #imagine #weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred fic #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley fic

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trvqvoiisee · 17 days ago

Text

Between Us

Part 1- A Glimpse of More

Part 2- The almost moment

Y/N adjusted her glasses and tucked a stray strand of her Y/C/H behind her ear. The campus coffee shop buzzed around her, the clinking of mugs and the low hum of chatter blending into background noise. Across from her sat Minho, her best friend since the fifth grade. He was hunched over his laptop, typing furiously.

“Remind me again why we’re writing this paper two hours before it’s due?” Minho asked, glancing up at her with his signature lopsided grin.

“Because someone said playing video games last night was more important than starting it early,” Y/N shot back, smirking.

He laughed, a deep sound that made her chest tighten for reasons she didn’t want to admit. They had always been close, sharing everything from childhood pranks to late-night phone calls about life and love—or, in her case, the lack of it.

For years, she had convinced herself their friendship was all she needed. Minho was her rock, her confidant, her partner-in-crime. But lately, something had shifted. She found herself noticing the way his laugh made her stomach flutter, how his touch lingered just a little too long when he handed her something.

And how, at moments like this, the way he looked at her made her heart race.

“Earth to Y/N,” Minho said, waving a hand in front of her face. “You good?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just…zoned out,” she lied, quickly looking back at her notes.

Minho leaned back in his chair, studying her. “You’ve been weird lately. Is something going on?”

Her pulse quickened. “What do you mean, ‘weird’?”

“I don’t know. You’ve just been…quiet. Not your usual bossy self,” he teased, but his voice held an edge of concern.

Y/N hesitated, her fingers curling around her coffee cup. Could she tell him? Could she risk it?

But before she could say anything, Minho’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen and frowned.

“It’s Madison,” he muttered, silencing the call.

Y/N’s heart sank. Madison was his on-again, off-again girlfriend, and every time she came back into his life, Y/N felt like she was shoved to the sidelines.

“You should answer,” Y/N said, forcing a smile.

Minho shook his head. “Nah, I’m with you right now. She can wait.”

Her chest tightened again, this time with hope.

AN: This is my first time posting a fanfic on this app if you want a part 2 please comment or reblog this post it means a lot to me!!

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alilobsessive · 11 days ago

Note

Bruce: You can't just take my child and claim them as your own

Jonathan: You have like ten kids. Me? Zero. Sharing is caring Batman

Bruce: That does not apply to children-

Jonathan: It does when they want to study phobias with me

Scarecrow's crimes start to plummet because he finally has the one thing he wants; a loving family- I mean, a student who doesn't mind he shoots a gun in mid class as a demonstration of fear

Lmao Batman goes to find his kid after they've been missing for a week and finds them studying flash cards of phobias with The Scarecrow

Reader ends up becoming there side kick/lab partner. But there so focused on the science aspect they completely forgot about the villain aspect. You can hear the song weird science playing in the background as they work on their news concoction.

#batfam x reader #platonic batfam #x gender neutral reader #neglected reader #crow reader

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embracing-the-ineffable · 7 months ago

Text

Beware clickbait accusations

Hi fandom, here's what happened yesterday: A reporter named Rachel Johnson, who is the sister to Boris Johnson and a big terfy supporter of JK Rowling, released a 4-part true crime podcast featuring two women accusing Neil Gaiman of SA. Yesterday. The day before the UK elections. This post explores the possible political links in more detail.

CW: this post is free of graphic details, but if you follow these links, there may be explicit descriptions of sex, kink, and bdsm, plus mentions of mental illness and suicidal thoughts.

I want to believe and support survivors, and I also want to base my thoughts and actions on facts. I thought the xitter livestream commentary from Not Becky for all 4 episodes was very insightful. There's also a first episode transcript without extra commentary. (Edit: released after I wrote this post: the full audio plus transcripts for all four episodes of the podcast are now available to download here, or you can read all four transcripts in your browser.) I have since concluded (pending more time to think and read and learn, or any new information, of course):

This seems like the worst kind of clickbait, an unjustified mess that will hurt everyone involved (except possibly a few politicians who might benefit somehow, we'll see). The evidence the "reporters" present directly contradicts their accusations. They're counting on people reading headlines and not digging any deeper.

They tried to make something sinister where there was apparently consent and a caring relationship. Have they exploited one or both of these women? S, in particular, is described as vulnerable and with a history of unspecified mental illness. They have all of the message history between S and Neil, and her messages make the sexy stuff between the two of them sound enthusiastically consensual. There are even messages (multiple!) where she specifically says everything was consensual. Here's one:

They're playing horror music in the background to try to make us feel horrified, even as S reassures us that things were consensual. It's emotional manipulation by the reporters.

The times S sounds upset during the interview are the times she talks about Neil leaving her behind or not paying attention to her. Not the times she talks about consent violations. Her stories during the interview are inconsistent, and they contradict her messages with Neil and with others. Maybe we'll get better information from a more reputable news source, or maybe not, I don't know. I also don't know why anyone who cares about her would have advised her to do this interview.

Then they tracked down lots of other women who know/have dated Neil and they all had glowing things to say, except one other lover from 20 years ago, K. She described some bad sex, and then pointed to a time in their 2-year relationship when she felt something wasn't consensual and he thought it was. And after their breakup, they continued to text and flirt, for decades.

This podcast "exposé" feels like explosive clickbait with political ramifications. The evidence here doesn't support a pattern of poor conduct so much as establish Neil as a fellow well-meaning human with imperfect judgement. That doesn't mean the accusations are all made up; intimate partner violence is complicated, and the responsibility for checking in and getting regular enthusiastic consent from partners is very real, especially when kink or bdsm are involved.

I don't know what the right balance is here between supporting survivors, thinking critically, assuming good intentions, and waiting for better information, but I feel confident that this podcast alone is not enough to condemn anyone aside from the irresponsible journalists who inflicted it on the rest of us.

PS/edit: I'm tagging my relevant posts (mostly reblogs) with #ineffable grief, and you can see all of them here.

#neil gaiman #clickbait #think critically #ineffable grief #be kind #intimate partner violence #mental health #Irresponsible journalists #uk politics #good omens fandom #good omens

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https-milo · 8 months ago

Note

What if, (hear me out) Shigaraki Instagram.... HE WONT EVEN HAVE ONE.😭. 🏃(thaaaank youuu. Also... your no.1 biggest fan. Lmaooo)

I'm listening!! tysm for the request!!

DATING TOMURA SHIGARAKI INSTAGRAM !!

details!

Instagram posts w/ comments while dating Tomura Shigaraki!

a/n OBVIOUSLY these are just pictures off of interest, reader can be however you imagine !

main m. list / instagram m. list

defonoty/n · 20w

24 likes

liked by: vampir3.toga, dabi, twicenottwice

defonoty/n made him turn off League to play Minecraft with me >:D

vampir3.toga WAIT HE DOESNT HAVE INSTA??

defonoty/n vampir3.toga NO :'(

vampir3.toga defonoty/n MAKE HIM ONE!!

dabi wow, kinda shocked he actually did that.

defonoty/n dabi I KNOW IT WAS SO HARD!

defonoty/n · 15w

31 likes

liked by: vampir3.toga, dabi, twicenottwice

defonoty/n he may be my passenger princess I fear

dabi i get why he doesnt want Instagram, if I saw ts on my feed from my partner - there'd be a body

defonoty/n dabi ok alpha male, you want a cookie like???

vampir3.toga defonoty/n FR PUT THAT MAN IN HIS PLACE 😤😤

twicenottwice HAHA!

twicenottwice bro wtf is this shit.

defonoty/n · 10w

29 likes

liked by: vampir3.toga, dabi, twicenottwice, shiggy.rizzy

defonoty/n WE DID IT BOYS!!! TOMURA HAS AN INSTA !! (i don't know why he chose that as his username. i do not condone)

tagged: shiggy.rizzy

shiggy.rizzy are you perchance a hater?

defonoty/n shiggy.rizzy are you, perchance, a brainrotted idiot?

shiggy.rizzy defonoty/n i miss the childlike wonder of not knowing you exist!!

defonoty/n shiggy.rizzy i know you're not talking about childlike wonder... its a wonder you're so childlike, brat.

dabi crusty and y/n are either about to fight or make out, its very hard to tell

defonoty/n dabi would it be a crime to do both?

shiggy.rizzy · 7w

12 likes

liked by vampir3.toga, dabi, twicenottwice, defonoty/n

shiggy.rizzy tried taking a bad picture of her, turns out you cant. the world sucks and I hate her.

tagged: defonoty/n

defonoty/n OH SO YOU LOVE ME LOVE ME??

shiggy.rizzy defonoty/n no. I hate you.

defonoty/n shiggy.rizzy this is not correct information, I fear

vampir3.toga you two make me sick :3

defonoty/n · 2w

34 likes

liked by vampir3.toga, dabi, twicenottwice, shiggy.rizzy

defonoty/n she elsa on my dick till im frozen

shiggy.rizzy grrrr other people are gonna see how decent you are

vampir3.toga STOP CRUSTY TURNED HIS PHONE OFF AND THEN TURNED IT BACK ON AND HIS BACKGROUND WAS THIS PICTURE.

defonoty/n vampir3.toga WHAT??? SHIGGY :(((

shiggy.rizzy vampir3.toga DELETE. DELETE. DELETE. DELETE.

Thank you so much for reading <3

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clairoscharm · 2 months ago

Text

you're my bestfriend

pairing : ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings : childhood bsf!ew, fluff fluff fluff, not sure what to feel abt this but wtv!, friends to lovers, mentioned of abby being in a rs w @r3starttt , modern au, college au! uhmmm that’s it? OH MENTIONED OF OWEN AS WELL

credits : @anitalenia @fawniiky @cafekitsune

✉️ : this is a draft or repost but i rewritten it :)

DAILY CLICK

DON’T BUY TLOU

WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE

The friendship between you and Ellie began when you were twelve.

It all started with a school project, an awkward pairing that felt like a chore at first. But as the two of you began working together, it quickly became clear that this was something special. You laughed over shared jokes, stumbled through awkward silences, and discovered you could lean on each other even during the chaos of adolescence.

By the time the middle school ended, your bond had become unshakable. Ellie wasn’t just a friend; she was a constant—a partner in crime, your confidant, your people.

That was years ago, back when everything felt a little simpler. Now, you were both in college, sharing a new chapter of life together. Time had only strengthened the connection between you. Through exams, messy dorm rooms, and late-night cramming sessions, Ellie remained the person who felt most like home.

When the winter break rolled around, there was no question where you’d spend it: back in Jackson, at your childhood house. The two-week Christmas and New Year holiday was the perfect excuse to escape campus life and dive into the traditions you and Ellie had built over the years.

One of the traditions you two built over the years was having regular sleepovers. These weren’t just casual, one-off events but rituals that kept your friendship alive, vibrant, and full of the joys that come with shared memories.

The two of you used to stay up until the small hours playing video games, binge-watching movies you’d seen countless times, and gossiping about everything from celebrities to the drama unfolding in your social circles.

Whether it was at her place or yours, sleepovers were a haven of connection.

This time, it was at your house.

—

The living room was alive with the sounds of laughter and playful bickering. The floor was strewn with takeout boxes and empty soda cans, remnants of a feast that fueled your gaming marathon. The TV cast a soft, flickering light across the room as you and Ellie faced off in a video game.

“Ha! Take that!” Ellie crowed, slamming her controller buttons with exaggerated glee.

“Don’t get cocky,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at the screen. “This isn’t over.”

Despite your competitive banter, there was an ease to the moment that felt like second nature. It was the kind of night where time blurred, where everything else faded into the background.

As you reached for a slice of leftover pizza, a thought popped into your head. You paused the game, grinning mischievously. “Wait, oh my god. I forgot to tell you something!”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, already intrigued. “Oh no. What now?”

“It’s not bad,” you said, your grin widening. “Just some campus drama you missed.”

Ellie smirked, leaning back on her hands. “Well, don’t hold out on me. Spill.”

You set down the pizza and leaned in, lowering your voice as if you were sharing top-secret intel. “Okay, so you know Abby Anderson, right?”

“Duh,” Ellie replied. “Big, intimidating, kind of broody? Hard to miss her. What about her?”

“She’s seeing this girl, Renee—you’ve probably seen her around. She’s an art student and works at the campus coffee shop.”

“Oh yeah, she’s sweet,” says Ellie, nodding. “Always remembers my order. What happened?”

“Well,” you continued, leaning in like you were about to share state secrets, “Abby introduced Renee to her team after practice the other day. And guess who decided to make things awkward?”

Ellie tilted her head. “Owen?”

“Ding, ding, ding,” you said, clapping your hands together. “Apparently, he was making these weird, personal jokes about Abby and Renee. But here’s the best part—Renee shut him down. Like, stone cold. I wish I could’ve seen it.”

Ellie's jaw dropped, and she let out a laugh. “Renee? Quiet, coffee-shop Renee? She shut Owen down?”

“Yup," you said, popping the “p” for emphasis.

"Abby looked like she wanted to high-five her right there. Owen just kind of slunk off after that. It was amazing.”

“I need to start hanging out at practice,” Ellie joked, shaking her head. “But what’s up with Owen? I thought he and Mel were a thing.”

“They were,” you said, her tone shifting slightly. “Till Mel broke it off last month. She said he was too focused on himself and not enough on, well, everything.”

“Yikes,” she muttered. “That's tough, hope she's okay though.”

You nodded your head in agreement, then smirked. “Okay, your turn. Any juicy updates from your side of campus?”

She thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “Oh! Dina and Jesse—there was this whole misunderstanding last week, but they worked it out, and now they’re even stronger.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Misunderstanding? What happened?”

“Well,” Ellie started, “Jesse had been spending a lot of time at the library with Cat—”

“Cat? Isn’t she like….gay?” you interrupted, your tone suspicious.

“Yes, but—,” she said, waving you off. “They were working on a group project for their media studies class. But Dina didn’t know that at first, and when she saw them together, she thought something was up.”

You winced. “Oof. That must’ve been a fun conversation.”

“Yeah,” she replied, nodding. “Dina confronted Jesse about it, and he immediately cleared everything up. He even invited her to join them at the library so she could see for herself.”

You smiled, her expression softening. “Aww, classic Jesse. That guy would probably walk through fire for her.”

“Exactly,” Ellie agreed. “Dina felt bad for jumping to conclusions, but Jesse was super understanding about it after they talked it out."

"It’s nice to see a couple that actually, you know, communicates.”

Ellie chuckled, tossing a fry at you. “What a concept, huh?”

“Right?” you said, laughing as you tossed the fry back at her.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, the hum of the television filling the room again. Ellie stretched out her legs, resting her head against the beanbag as she glanced at you.

“What about you?” she asked, her tone casual but curious. “Anything new in your world?”

You shook your head, leaning back. “Not really. My life’s basically a drama-free zone, which, honestly, I’m okay with.”

Ellie gave you a lopsided grin. “You’re lucky. The rest of us are out here living in a soap opera.”

“Yeah,” you teased, “But where would you be without my advice and impeccable commentary?”

Ellie laughed, her voice warm and easy. “Nowhere. You’re basically my rock, you know that?”

Her words made you pause, but before you could respond, she reached for another fry, casually throwing it into her mouth as though she hadn’t just made your heart skip a beat.

No matter how chaotic campus life, or Ellie’s stories gets, moments like this grounded you. With Ellie, it always felt like home.

A thick comforter lay sprawled over both of your legs, its soft fabric a welcome barrier against the cold. You shifted slightly, the rustle of the blanket mingling with the distant creaks of the house settling, a reminder of the quiet world outside this cocoon of warmth.

As you reached for a slice of leftover pizza, Ellie adjusted her position, her socked feet brushing against yours beneath the blanket. You didn’t say anything, but the small, familiar gesture made your chest tighten with an unspoken comfort.

In the brief pause between rounds, the room felt quieter.

The hum of the heater in the corner created a steady background rhythm, joined occasionally by the faint groan of the pipes. Outside, the faint whistle of wind against the windowpanes added to the serene atmosphere, as if the world itself were settling in for the night.

Ellie stretched her arms above her head, yawning loudly. “Okay, okay, I need a break. My hands are cramping,” she said, dropping her controller onto the couch beside her with a soft thud.

“You mean you’re tired of losing,” you teased, earning a playful shove in return.

“Keep talking, and I’m taking the last slice of pizza,” she shot back, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Ellie grabbed the remote and turned it off with a click. The sudden quiet felt startling at first, but the soft hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the house quickly filled the silence.

You glanced around the room—pillows and blankets were scattered across the couch and the floor, remnants of the makeshift sleepover setup you'd thrown together earlier in the night. The couch wasn’t big enough for both of you to sleep on comfortably, so you’d decided to make the floor a cozy nest instead.

Ellie flopped down on the pile of blankets with a dramatic sigh, her arm draping over her face. “I’m never going to move again,” she declared, her voice muffled by the fabric.

You laughed softly, tossing another pillow down beside her. “Good. That means I get the better blanket.”

Ellie peeked out from under her arm, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Over my dead body.”

Despite the mock protests, you handed her the thicker blanket before crawling onto the floor beside her. You stretched out on your back, the soft layers of the blanket beneath you cushioning the hardwood floor.

“God, I love nights like this,” she murmured, her voice low but content.

You nodded, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah. It’s kind of perfect, isn’t it?”

The world outside might have been cold and distant, but here, wrapped in the warmth of shared laughter and quiet moments, everything felt right.

Ellie shifted beside you, lying on her side and propping her head up with her hand. “Do you ever feel like the floor is weirdly more comfortable than a bed sometimes?” she mused, her voice soft, almost thoughtful.

“Not really,” you replied, turning your head to meet her gaze. “But it feels… different. Like we’re kids again.”

Ellie smiled faintly, her expression softening. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

The quiet between you wasn’t awkward. It never was. Instead, it was filled with the subtle sounds of your shared presence—the rustle of blankets as Ellie adjusted her position, the faint sound of her breathing as she stared at the ceiling.

Eventually, you turned onto your side, facing her. The space between you felt impossibly small, your fingers just brushing hers where they rested on the blanket.

“Ellie,” you said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“You’re my best friend,” you said casually, your voice quiet but sincere.

She looked up at you, her brow raised slightly, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. “Well, that’s a good thing, right?”

“Of course,” you replied, chuckling as you leaned back against the stack of pillows. “You’re like the best part of my life, Ellie.”

She grinned, setting her phone down beside her. “Right back at you. You’re stuck with me, you know?”

You both shared a laugh, the kind of laugh that felt natural and familiar. But as the sound faded, a brief silence stretched between you, and you couldn’t help but wonder—would things be different if she were more than just your best friend?

The thought crept into your mind like it always did, sneaking in during quiet moments like this. Whether it was the way her laugh made your chest feel light or how her presence turned even the most mundane nights into something special, the idea lingered.

Ellie rolled onto her back, her shoulder brushing against yours as she got comfortable. The soft rustle of the blankets and the hum of the heater filled the room as the house settled into the quiet hours of the night.

You let your eyes close, but the lingering thought of what if stayed with you, weaving its way through your dreams as sleep finally took over.

The quiet night enveloped the both of you, and in the peaceful cocoon of the living room, everything felt like it was exactly where it was meant to be—for now.

—

The next morning, as sunlight poured through the blinds, casting golden beams across the room, you found yourself back in the kitchen, preparing tea. You didn’t know it yet, but this was the start of something new—a chapter where the line between friendship and love began to blur in ways that felt as natural as breathing.

The faint whistle of a teapot came from the kitchen, pulling Ellie from her slumber. She stretched like a cat, groaning quietly as her body protested against the familiar couch cushions. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and blinked at the sunlight streaming through the curtains.

The house smelled of tea, the aroma pulling her to her feet.

Ellie was so familiar with your routines by now that nothing surprised her anymore. She knew that mornings were your sanctuary. From the way you’d groggily reach for your phone, squinting at the screen, to the way you’d lounge in bed for a few extra minutes before getting up to make tea and soak in the quiet beauty of the day.

Padding into the kitchen, Ellie found you standing by the counter, the steam from the teapot swirled lazily around you, and the sight made her pause for a moment. She always thought you looked effortlessly beautiful, but something about that moment felt different.

Your hair was loosely behind your ears, framing your face, and your posture relaxed as you waited for the tea to steep. You were humming—some song she couldn’t quite place—but the sight and sound of you in the morning light made Ellie’s chest ache with something she didn’t quite know how to name.

"Morning," you said, your voice warm with the remains of sleep.

Ellie slid into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, still rubbing the last traces of sleep from her eyes. "Morning. You're up early."

You laughed lightly. "Early? It’s almost nine."

She chuckled, leaning back in her seat. "Fair point. Making tea again, huh?"

You nodded, lifting an eyebrow at her. "Want some?"

Normally, she’d say no. She wasn’t much of a tea drinker and often teased you about your near-religious devotion to it. But today, for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she hesitated.

"Yeah," she said suddenly, surprising even herself. "Sure. Why not?"

You froze mid-pour, turning to her with a raised brow. "You? Tea? Are you feeling okay?"

Ellie shrugged nonchalantly, though her voice betrayed a hint of curiosity. "Don’t make it a thing. Just figured I’d try it since you’re so obsessed."

You smirked but said nothing, turning back to pour her a cup.

The kitchen was quiet save for the clink of mugs and the soft whistle of the kettle, and Ellie found herself watching you again, noticing the way the sunlight played on your features.

The moment felt oddly significant. As Ellie leaned against the chair, watching you prepare the tea, she noticed the way the sunlight caught strands of your hair, the way your movements were careful and precise, as though this simple act was its own form of artistry.

Ellie found herself smiling.

"How come you want to try it today?" you asked, breaking the silence.

She shrugged again, her fingers idly scratching behind the ears of one of your pets who had wandered into the kitchen. "I don’t know," she said softly. "Just felt like it."

You nodded and smiled at her before grabbing a container that has ‘Sugar’ written on it.

Knowing Ellie’s aversion to bitter drinks, you added two and a half sugar of full spoon into her tea before mixing it. As you stirred, you felt her gaze on you, uncharacteristically focused.

Ellie’s gaze lingered on you longer than usual. The scene felt timeless, almost nostalgic, as if it had happened before and would happen again countless times.

"I want to live with you forever one day," Ellie said suddenly, her voice quiet but steady.

You froze, the words taking you back to when she had said the exact same thing years ago. Back then, it had been a lighthearted comment, something tossed into the air during one of your late-night talks. But now, there was a weight to her tone that hadn’t been there before.

A blush crept across your cheeks, but you smiled nonetheless. "Let’s do that somewhere in the future, yeah?"

When you handed her the mug, she caught the faintest smile on your lips. Your fingers brushed briefly, and Ellie felt a warmth that wasn’t just from the tea.

The two of you moved to the living room, settling onto the couch with your steaming mugs. The morning sunlight spilled into the room, wrapping everything in a gentle glow. It was one of those rare moments of absolute serenity.

Ellie took the mug, cradling it in her hands as the warmth seeped into her skin. She hesitated for a moment before taking a sip. The sweetness hit her first, then the floral notes of the tea. It wasn’t bad.

"Not terrible," she admitted, her voice laced with surprise.

"High praise," you teased, grinning as you leaned back on the couch.

Ellie shook her head, smiling despite herself. "What’s your secret?"

Leaning closer, you whispered as though sharing a sacred truth. "I add a little extra sugar. Don’t tell anyone though, it’s our secret."

Ellie chuckled, her grin widening. "My lips are sealed."

The room fell into a comfortable silence again as you both sipped your tea. For you, the moment felt like something out of a dream.

You had always imagined a life like this—peaceful mornings with someone you loved, sharing quiet moments over a warm cup of tea or coffee. You’d daydreamed about it as a teenager, envisioning a cozy home filled with the soft sounds of laughter, the pitter-patter of pets (or maybe even with kids around), and the kind of love that felt like warm, cozy, slow, like home.

Ellie knew about those dreams. You’d shared them with her years ago, during one of your late-night talks. She had always admired how clear you were about what you wanted in life.

As you sat there, sipping your tea, you found your thoughts drifting. Ellie was so deeply embedded in your life, in your heart, that imagining a future without her felt impossible. And yet, the idea of wanting her in a romantic sense felt like a line you shouldn’t cross.

Ellie broke the silence, her voice soft but filled with meaning. "You know what this reminds me of?"

You turned to her, tilting your head slightly. "What?"

"Back when we were teenagers, you told me about your dream life," she said, her eyes locking onto yours. "And this… this feels like it. Like the future you described."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"And honestly," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "I want it to be me."

The words hung in the air, weighty and electric.

"You… you want it to be you?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Ellie nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yeah. I’ve wanted it to be me for a long time."

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. Emotions swirled within you—surprise, joy, and an overwhelming sense of belonging.

"I want it to be you too," you admitted, your voice soft but certain.

Ellie’s smile was radiant, and she reached out to place her hand over yours.

"I meant what I said earlier," she confessed. "In the kitchen. And years ago."

Your heart swelled as you realized this moment was everything you’d ever dreamed of.

Sometimes, the simplest things—a cup of tea, a quiet morning, the soft glow of sunlight—can carry the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions. This moment, this connection, felt like coming home.

You had always dreamed of this life, and now, you were finally living it, with Ellie by your side.

Together, and perhaps, it’s a forever kind of thing.

#dyn’s | writings ᝰ.ᐟ #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader

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erinwantstowrite · 2 months ago

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bear with me here because i'm gonna ramble about something i've been thinking about for a while... and i'm not complaining, i'm just noticing

sometimes i think we've leaned so far into the vigilante side of the batfam that we miss out on what really makes their characters: detective work. we need more mysteries in their lives that don't lead up to some big bad "we already know who's doing it" or an "end of the world" or "yet again: this fucking guy." we need more stuff where spy movie music plays in the background and dumb adventures that don't lead up to some huge grand event with a big name villain. the shock factor stops being shocking or interesting in any capacity if we're like "Gah! the Joker! ... Again!" or whatever

does that even make sense? like "yeah sure they're blowing up a building again and there's hostages. oh look they're gonna poison the water supply." these aren't bad and that's not what i'm getting at because obviously this is a classic for comics. you need to have characters/antagonists that show up more than once and who can make a story better by being in it. and i did say to bear with me- that's because im tired. so like i hope im getting this across the right way? it's just that sometimes i don't wanna see a huge explosion, i want these motherfuckers solving a regular murder or a disappearance or regular corruption in a local office without it being tied to a grand reveal like "actually this person knows you as a long lost relative" or "they were at that circus can you guess which night they went?" that kind of thing? if you get me? like... more of the small time stuff makes the big stuff important, it makes it stand out more. at some point, the format gets repetitive even if you're switching up the villains. you can make these situations/mysteries still fun to solve for the characters and fun to read for the audience if you do it right

the concept of a detective dressed as a bat and having a sidekick in traffic light colors is inherently goofy as hell??? but that is what is so charming about it??? i think we have lost the balance between them being silly while also being intelligent with important conversations that criticize the world as we see it and teach lessons and can go over dark topics. nowadays it's always end of the world problems or just straight up the most gruesome true crime you can think of?? or they can ONLY do the dark stuff and the criticism without offering a balance of the good in the world. or we keep coming back to the FUCKING JOKER-

like yes they are vigilantes and with that comes a different level of their work, but their brand should be a mix between a black and white detective film that can get very nitty gritty and a classic spy movie, that kind of thing. at the end of the day, it's what makes them so different from the superheroes. that's what appeals to me.

seeing them in the big superhero groups is fun, don't get me wrong. it's always funny to see them standing next to people who are so powerful they never really fit in with anyone but each other, who chose to step up and use their powers for good. the Bats' specialty is Gotham and yet here they are stopping a god or whatever. and they do stop the god or whatever, all the while being an important leader and strategist to their teammates. they're important to have in these cases. but if there's a world ending event every time i pick something up, it's not as fun

the fact that they are so very human and not fantastical is why i like reading them. it's what makes the joke of people, even Gotham citizens, theorizing about them being cryptids, funny. they're fucking weird but that's because they're detectives. people who love to solve mysteries usually have a fatal flaw of curiosity. they forget the bounds between social interactions sometimes because they're used to working through problems or being intertwined with partners that understand them. but they're very much human. so human that it hurts them in many ways. and idk i've just been thinking about it lately and idk what point i'm trying to get across actually

it's just that in my eyes that's how it really is for Batman- a black and white movie narrated by a very serious man who took up a job to help people, one that has a deeper commentary on the world and viewed outwardly as pessimistic but actually has a deep hope for his city and who tries to help even the people who have wronged others. He's a stationary man in the belief that him being a constant can serve to soothe others and help them move forward. He stays in the middle of the path so he can tell everyone what is up ahead. he blends into the Gotham rainy night to serve justice but in a way that saves both the victim and the perpetrator. (the way he tucks a Robin into his cape is the same he does for Gotham with his mere presence.) and his background is actually so important to his story and yet people still somehow gloss over the lesson from it? he lost his parents because of a man who was on the opposite end of the spectrum to where he was in life. and yet he chose to help the people like the man that killed his parents. he could have done anything else with his power and money, but he instead is choosing to bring as many people up with him as he can. He's Mr. Serious that no one else can get a read on. and yet he walks into a room and he's already piecing together your life and what you're going through because he thinks it matters. he comforts people who have lost something or someone or themselves. I picture Batman and I don't picture a man trying to save the world, I picture a detective walking around a crime scene and trying to save at least one person every time he puts on the cape. and he put on the cape and became a vigilante because then he could go out of the bounds of what laws have been set up- and specifically, Gotham has other people in power who are corrupt, keeping the system that way. that's why Batman being a billionare and throwing himself into helping people at the risk of his own life is so important. he knows that if you are alive, you have something or someone to lose, no matter who you are. the dude is a bleeding heart but he doesn't know how to express it, in fear that if he gets too close, if he moves down the path with them, he'll be lost again

and then he's met with someone who should be a complete opposite, but isn't at all, because they're two sides of the same coin. his partner in crime, his son, a boy that is nothing like the black and white world that he sees. and that's the point in his life where he first sees that potentially getting lost is worth the risk. Robin is color and passion that needs guidance to move forward, but can not do so unless the stationary man learns to move with him. the kid is loud and reckless and you'd think he's from a different genre from the detective but they aren't so different, really. not when you look close enough. Dick grew up moving from place to place and seeing the world, knowing so many different people from different cultures. He's been learning to fly and jump and embrace the free fall his entire life. He's clever and he's sharp, and he thrives in the action and adventure. it's that perspective that compliments the stationary man. one is steady and the other pushes. he's the same genre but a different generation. and Batman introducing him to the way of life he chose for himself was another way he could save someone. because let's be real for a second? Dick would have gone down a very dark path had he not had Bruce, who understood, who saw not just himself in the kid but also saw who the kid has been his entire life until now. he saw Dick's parents, he saw the family he had in the circus, he saw the joy he had in what his family was doing. he saw the grief and the fire and the color that Dick's world was made of. because to Bruce, it always matters. Dick had to come to terms with Bruce's perspective to help anyone who they come across, to always give more chances, and it kept Dick from losing his color

what gets me is that the man who lives in the black and white world can actually see many different shades of gray (because black and white always needs the medium), whereas the boy in a world of color and light can get so focused on the bright that he can become single minded. and yet the boy sees a world of color and delves deeper into the lives of the peolle they come across and can be much more open minded, and the man in the black and white world sometimes forgets the shades of grey are right there. they are just like each other. they can exist without the other, but do they want to? because the black and white can be built up into the colored image, like the inking and shadows drawn on a comic book page before the colors are added in. they meet in the middle to complete each other. Bruce has been passing the story over to the next generation for a long, long time, even before his story was complete. and just like with the first Robin, it was so for every Robin afterwards. they each color in the lines differently, but that's what makes Robin so special, so unique. they are an art style that branches into their own life, but can not forget where they started: tucked into Batman's cape and the inky black of his world

and so detective work really frames their hunanity to me. the mysteries they get their hands on, the glimpses into the lives of Gotham citizens that they swore to protect, it's fascinating. it's what makes their story stand out compared to the people who can lift trucks or cast spells or run around the world in seconds. so yeah ig that's what i'm trying to say? that i want to read more of that? in both canon and fanon. cause even the small time villains we see can be like. AWFUL people and it takes out the fun of their gimmicks. and if it were any other day this would be a more coherent post but alas, it is not any other day

#tldr: we need more filler episodes #/hj but also /srs #erinwantstowrite #batfam #batfam fanfic #batman #batman comics #canon and fanon #in my eyes #bruce wayne #dick grayson #it's like that quote #“if you want to write about the impact if war you do not write from the government's perspective #you write about a little girl's shoe in the rubble of her home.“#the smallest stories can have the biggest impacts on us #gotham is so fucking weird and can be really silly #while also being so dark #and you can have the big stuff happen too #idk im just thinking today #this might not make complete sense #but it's things like that that make their rules make more sense #like no you don't come to gotham because you aren't one of us and you might misunderstand my people #you catch bad guys #we try to save them #also this did in fact give me and alighterwood an au idea #and im going fucking bonkers over that #so #yayyy

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ma1dita · 8 months ago

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entropy

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> trouble always finds me | next -> buddy system words: 3.6k summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where you both blur the lines between annoyance and admiration. You and Luke forge a promise of becoming partners in crime. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: something happy for the tl– this is the official end of the pre-established relationship arc!! contains two demigods hating their godrents and typical teenager mood swings (thanks for being patient during my hiatus! missed yall <3) (posted 6/20/24, semi-edited)

—

Whoever said that finding where you belong is the key to happiness must have been lying.

That, or they’ve never known what it’s like to be a 15-year-old girl.

Sweat drips down the side of your brow bone in the middle of the summer heat. It’s a mystery why you’re still out here with the blistering itch of humidity sending everyone at Camp Half-Blood out to the lake to cool off during free period. You’ve never been friendly with the other campers anyway. It’s not for lack of trying—but toeing the line between being a total psychopath (because of who your dad is—THE god of insanity) and the biggest possible narc (also because of who your dad is—the worst camp director ever) didn’t exactly help your reputation in the past year of taking up space here.

And honestly… teenagers can be fucking mean.

The Aphrodite kids often laugh at your unkempt appearance, hair brushed only by the warm breeze and your camp shirt twisted and tie-dyed to your liking. You had a knack for getting into trouble with the Hephaestus kids after setting something on fire at the armory once… or twice. The Apollo kids were nice enough for as long as you’d sing a song—but there was no way you’d stick in the background arranging sheet music and playing guitar for them forever. Athena cabin was always too cool for you—with no one but little Annabeth Chase entertaining your endless chattering (but if anyone asked, you’d think it’s because they’re all sore losers when it comes to chess). The Ares kids were a little more your speed if only they would stop using you as moving target practice and the Demeter kids might’ve been nicer if you knew how to grow anything other than strawberries.

It was nice to be included, you guess. Tolerated at best.

But it wasn’t the same as feeling like you belonged.

From the corner of your eye, you see Luke Castellan come back from lunch and dust kicks up from under your boots as you cross your legs in the lawn chair you sit in. Blinking harshly, you realize you’ve been squinting at the sun for ages. He’s seen you do weirder things since you’ve both somewhat acclimated yourselves to Camp Half-Blood’s culture, with you becoming a bit of an oddity as well as local entertainment with the shit you pull to get your dad to look your way. But it was something about the way you were so still under the sunlight that piqued his interest.

And quiet. You were never quiet.

Since you moved out of cabin 11 almost a year ago, his life has admittedly been a bit more peaceful, him finding his groove as a camper and…becoming everything that you’re not. Sure, he’s getting used to calling this place home, but where he shines, you’ve… struggled. Can’t say the same for him though—admittedly his life is kinda great right now.

If you needed a sub for volleyball, Luke’s your guy. Oh no, we need help bringing bushels of strawberries to the kitchens! Luke’s there to help. Someone needs a hand with sparring— there’s no one better than Luke Castellan! The all-star camper, and everyone’s best friend. He’s in talks to become cabin counselor by next year while you’ve had almost every punishment Mr. D can think of giving.

No dessert, shoveling pegasus shit, helping the nymphs on your days off, and the list just goes on. Sometimes you wonder if it’s your father’s way of keeping you busy so he doesn’t have to see you—it’s a miracle you haven’t been disintegrated yet by the god of insanity himself, but perhaps that’s both a pro and con of being his only daughter.

On his way out of his cabin, he stops short a ways away from the firepit, gaze falling upon the red tips of your hair hanging off the chair you lay on (chemically lightened by lemon juice and Kool-Aid you’ve recently learned to conjure). The piercings in your ears sparkle in the warm light—you and a few kids from the Hephaestus cabin pulled them off one late night with sewing needles and apples from the kitchens.

It’s crazy what you can learn about someone by watching them from afar. Slightly creepy, and kind of concerning, but if anyone bothered to ask, Luke had an excuse for why he was always looking out the front window of cabin 11. The Hermes cabin was directly across the way from the Dionysus cabin, which housed its sole inhabitant, you.

That in itself is a shitty excuse, he knows that, but… Luke worries. He knows he shouldn’t, but his eyes always subconsciously find their way back to you and whatever trouble you find yourself in—last week it was a pegasi stampede through the north end of the strawberry fields.

Yeah… you didn’t have a good explanation for that one either.

“Shouldn’t you be showing off and saving camp from a chimera, Castellan? Or kissing a baby, or something else super awesome and cool?” you mock, nose crinkling slightly.

He blinks, face falling as he stumbles off the porch towards you, a whisper of a smile still grazing his cheekbones. The sight almost makes you angry, really, and a part of him knows that he’s the bane of your existence.

How rude of him to be good at everything and good-looking. Truthfully, it made his face very punchable, in your opinion—but the growing list of girls and boys that began to fawn over him after his growth spurt last winter probably think otherwise.

“Only baby I see here is you,” he mumbles, pulling a chair up next to yours and flopping his dead weight into it, “What’re you doing here pouting all by yourself?”

Your eyes follow his movements and you can’t help but inspect all of him—from the lean muscles that ripple down his arms to the sweat that glitters as it kisses his cupid’s bow.

He better not dare to kiss me even as a joke, you think, there would be nothing worse than that!

“Trouble? You know you scare me when you’re quiet. S’how I know you’re bothered by something,” Luke nudges your forearm jokingly, hands slightly sticky and smelling like cherries and smoke. His tongue is painted red from a popsicle he snuck out from the kitchens earlier. The sparklers he stole from the basement of the Big House still line his pockets.

No one ever looks twice at the golden boy, after all.

You shrug, kicking your legs under your bottom and staring back up at the clouds that hang overhead. Zeus could strike you down right now and you’d probably thank him. Death by the king of the gods seemed way more interesting than the personal hell of being at Camp Half-Blood you think, sputtering, “What’s it to you? Shouldn’t the camp hotshot have better things to do than hang around someone like me?” But the words feel heavy in your mouth, uncomfortable and clunky as you wet your lips with your tongue and clear your throat. Luke watches your eyes steel, turning away from him like orating a script to an imaginary audience.

The world is your stage and you feel as if you’re but a performer that has to fulfill an act.

It’s easier somehow like this—to not let your feelings go rogue, or let yourself feel too strongly. All of your efforts have fallen short, despite your mother’s dying vow that these would be the best years of your life. But with one year down, sometimes you wonder if you’d stand a better chance out in the mortal world—hitchhiking your way back down south to the empty house you used to call home.

Maybe a chimera would get you first.

Or a hellhound.

You could probably take a hellhound, right?

A smirk falls upon your lip, freshly bitten and raw and you realize he’s still there next to you. Luke is still watching you silently as his hand taps on the wooden arm of the lawn chair—a nonsensical beat that fills the silence that follows like someone feeling their way around a wound. His contemplation is gentle, even if your expression is festering the longer you sit together.

“You're literally the coolest girl here. Since when did you give a shit about what anyone has to say?”

Your face is stoic, amethyst eyes bouncing down the slope of his face and back up until they meet his that are honey-sweet.

I CARE! a voice inside you wants to scream. It sounds like a little version of you stomping her foot until someone finally pays attention. But Luke’s eyes are already on your clenched fists and you haven’t made a single sound.

“Since when does Mr. Perfect know how to cuss?” you deflect, and he barks out a laugh, shaking his head yet nodding for you to continue. He knows that’s not what you meant to say.

“I can hardly believe that you of all people here think that I’m cool. I’m kind of a mess,” you try to reason, puffing your chest so that the breath makes your hair sway away from your face.

“Sure,” Luke says as his chin rests against his arm. He blinks slowly, taking you in almost thoughtfully as he feels out his next words, “But you’re…you.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Mischief prances through his features and you absolutely hate the look he gets on his face when he thinks he knows better than you.

Egotistical piece of shit.

Your hand jabs out to shove his, all of his front falling over in a fit of laughter as he catches himself and suddenly he’s too close. Close enough that for a moment, you’re scared he might see right through you.

Luke Castellan is not someone who would ever understand the pressure that you currently buckle under.

“You’ve got it all, you know? You can do whatever you want, your dad notices you. You’ve already found your glory by just being here… I mean all of us here want tha—” Your fist hits the wall of muscle in his abdomen. It’s haphazard and a cheap shot that probably hurt you more than him, but anger was the first emotion to surface (and you did say he was punchable—next time you’ll aim for his jaw). Luke huffs, slightly winded, though if anything his ego is the only thing coming out of this with a bruise.

“What?”

“What do you mean what, asshole? You think I want any of this?” you laugh coldly, reeling away from him like he’s burned you. Hands to your chest, scalded by his words, Luke is trying to find the misstep in his actions with his mind running miles a minute as he watches your brows furrow and you’re shaking like a pot about to boil over.

“I knew you wouldn’t get it.”

You’re not looking at him anymore, trembling hands doing more harm than good as you throw your stuff into your worn knapsack. This must be your last straw, you think, quickly thinking of your meager belongings packed underneath your bed and a letter to your dad tucked under your pillow. This is your sign to get the hell out of here. But as you’re tugging the canvas cloth over your shoulder, a gentle hand clasps around the straps, and a soft, “Hey, hey…” makes its way towards your ears and the frosty feeling that surrounds your heart.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Luke mumbles, spinning you to look at him as he sighs. Worry is a familiar feeling he’s acquainted with over this past year of knowing you, “Come on now, tell me. I’m a better listener than I am at speaking, obviously…” He catches the quiver in your lip with a graze of his finger, leading you back to your seat and placing your bag at his feet—making sure you can’t run, and even if you wanted to, you’re unsure of what else you have left to lose.

“Everyone thinks I have it easy because I don’t let anything break my smile. But I’d rather be anywhere than here. I’m a joke, hones—”

“Don’t say that,” he interjects, quickly silenced by your glare.

“You think it’s all sunshine and rainbows that I see my godrent every day? That what, I’m lucky?”

Luke simpers, curls falling over his forehead as jealousy clouds his vision. He has a few choice words towards his own father, but surely it can’t be all that bad. Anything must be better than a broken mother and a dreadfully absent father.

“Hit me with it already, Trouble.”

“My dad loves me because he has to. But there’s no way he actually likes me. It shouldn't get to me that much, even if he hates the parts of me I got from him, but it does. No one here likes me either.”

You don’t know whether you should laugh or cry, opening up to Luke like this. All you know is you haven’t been vulnerable to anyone in a while—the last you tried to talk to your dad about your dead mother left you with more questions than answers.

Trying to gauge the look on his face, you avert your eyes, picking at the peeling polish on your nails as you continue, “I think my father is lonely here in a camp full of children that aren’t his own and almost a mortal lifetime away from his seat on Olympus. He has a wife who waits for the eternity they’ll have to spend with each other. And I’m nothing but a smudge on his timeline— a reminder of a life that he had before saving her. I'm the last thing that holds him back from being happy.”

He listens. And then he speaks, almost blurting, “I’m my dad’s favorite—or so they say. So he likes me for all the effort I put into being his son, but he doesn’t love me. Not how he should. I can count the number of times I’ve seen him and my mom’s not dead, even if it’s easier to tell everyone that. But I’ve lost her anyway and he let that happen.”

That’s grim.

There are cracks of darkness in the sunshine boy after all. There’s a gleam of angst in both of your stares, daring the other to compete in this little pity party and seeing who would give in first. But neither of you break—shiny fractals of both your experiences blending into an understanding.

A middle ground.

A huff of laughter is released between the both of you, breathy and warm hitting your cheeks as you turn to each other like little kids giggling in secret. Perhaps you are— two 15-year-olds feeling weightless for a moment now that your shoulders shake without the pressures you place upon yourselves, and by this kindness alone, maybe.... maybe this place isn't so bad.

Someone calls out for Luke, figures hidden in the forestline. The moment quickly ends after that, a fuzzy feeling in your chest left behind, ignited every time your eyes meet his. It’s like he didn’t hear anything though, stuck to your side still grinning like you could give him the key to the city.

“If it matters, I like you,” he chokes out, clearing his throat as his eyes dart away from yours. By the time the blush rises to his cheeks your eyebrows have already shot into your hairline in disbelief watching Luke Castellan, camp’s pride and joy stumble over the simplest words he’s spoken all day.

You’re quiet again, which stresses him out more— frantic words ripping through his teeth in a blur of "Um, erm, not like... I mean in the sense that—" and your tongue pokes through your cheek in a bad attempt to stop a smile. You look soft—and thankfully not like you’re about to punch him, finally having the upper hand when it comes to him. Luke blinks slowly, shaking his head— "You're just really cool."

“You said that already.”

He shrugs, not really having anything more to say. The boy is embarrassed enough.

Have you always looked that pretty when you’re smug?

Snorting at his flustered state, you mutter, “Olympus would rejoice the day I be more like you, you know that, Castellan?” And he shrugs playfully, liking the way you don’t press on the topic when you could’ve gone for blood, “Olympus might fall if you teach me a thing or two.”

The warning bell rings overhead and Chiron's voice booms over the speakers— “CAMPERS, MONSTER TECHNIQUES WILL BEGIN IN 10 MINUTES. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY OVER TO THE AMPITHEATER.”

“I should go.”

“Sure. You’re teaching, right? New big gig,” you say nonchalantly as you expect him to leave and probably never talk to you again. You’re used to that by now, and whatever understanding between you doesn’t make you friends.

“Do you want to come with me?”

Oh.

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides, but his feet are planted deep into the dirt, his red Converse pushing the soil beneath him. He doesn’t want to leave. But he thinks that maybe if he had to, he’d leave a place like this for someone like you.

Maybe.

“Monster fighting is more your thing, isn’t it?”

He grins lamely, walking backward towards the woods with his eyes still on you, “You’ll find your thing. M’sure of it.”

Rolling your eyes, you bend over to pick up your things again, “Yeah, yeah. Like anyone would want to hear me tell stories or do my little crafts.”

“Why the hell not, Trouble?”

Luke throws his hands up in the air before scampering away to join his friends. It's hard to admit, but he's got a point—maybe this is an idea your dad will actually appreciate. A shiver wracks through your body. You find yourself being excited about something to do at camp for the first time in a long time.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to stay a little longer, you think as you trudge into your cabin, unknowingly kicking your knapsack further underneath the bed. You flop onto the bedspread with your notebook out, brainstorming what a Greek Legends and Theatrics workshop would look like. If you can get your words onto a page, you could pitch this to Mr. D by morning. A spark shines in your eye like the glittery glow-in-the-dark stars that hang from your bedroom ceiling.

Hopefully this won’t end in you shoveling pegasi shit.

—

You’re standing at the edge of the dining pavilion, tray in hand as campers bump past your frame, rushing towards their tables to eat dinner. There’s no one at your table but your dad and the idea of proposing the idea of your workshop sounds so terrifying right now that your stomach turns.

And then there’s Luke Castellan waving you over towards the Hermes table like a madman.

Huh.

You thought being crazy was supposed to be your thing.

He clambers up over the bench, all gangly legs moving towards you until he’s there grabbing your tray from your hands with a smile, “Come on, trouble. Still got a spot at my table. Chris just falls into it before I ever get the chance to call you over.”

You look at him like he’s stupid, your hands on the opposing side of your tray and the both of you are locked in a stalemate in the middle of the pavilion. Curious eyes make their way over to you both, and murmurs of excitement for a fight start to rise. Here’s the thing—it’s something to grab attention, but it being put on you without your control is a bit nerve-wracking, to say the least.

“We're not allowed to mix tables, Castellan.”

“Since when do you care?”

Since when do YOU, you think. Standing between comfort and chaos, your eyes meet your father’s, expectant as he watches you from across the room. There is comfort in the silence that would consume you at your table. You’d be able to eat in peace and hear your thoughts compared to the lack of elbow space at Table 11. Too many of them steal each others’ desserts, crack bad jokes, and kick each other under the table, but it still makes you smile. You choose the chaos instead, slowly making your way over to the Hermes kids who greet you with a loud cheer.

Children of mischief and chaos are like birds of a feather, after all. There is comfort in this madness too—and you think Mr. D almost smiles when his eyes meet yours once more.

You’re crafty when it's something you can fix; painting a picture of yourself that’s cool and interesting for others to see, but in reality, all every teenager wants is to fit in.

Who would’ve thought Luke Castellan was going to help with that?

“One of these days you’re gonna have to put the nice boy act in your back pocket, Castellan. I’m positively dying for the day you reveal yourself to me.”

Luke chuckles over a mouthful of mashed potatoes, shoulder knocking into yours intentionally, though the both of you are thigh to thigh on the crowded bench. You ignore the fact that one of his little brothers steals the cherry off your ice cream sundae, and he ignores the fact that his constant worry for you reveals itself as another, deeper thing—care.

“What you see is what you get,” he murmurs into your ear. Heat creeps up your neck and you look up to see your dad looking at you again, and then— “Hey, hey… eyes on me.” Turning to look at him, his breath hits your cheek, “You’re the only daughter of Dionysus. The only person I know born to be able to raise hell for a god. Gotta use it to your advantage more, Trouble. You’re not here to entertain anyone. You gonna let him win?” he asks.

Blinking slowly, you eat a spoonful of rice, cheeks full but not concealing your smile.

“Where’s the glory in that, right?”

—

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.” -Homer

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan fanfic

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xuchiya · 2 months ago

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"taste it from my lips" || kang yeosang || ice on my teeth (+18 mafia) ||

| genre: mafia! yeosang x partner! reader | mentions: cursing. creampie. wine drinking. angry yeosang[not to reader]. 5 years age gap. reader is 5 years older to Yeosang. unprotected (tap it up!)

You were not the type of person to drink cocktails, beer, or wine. It simply wasn’t in your system or personality to indulge in such beverages, even during occasions like weddings or birthdays. You preferred keeping yourself clean from those habits, maintaining a healthy life of drinking citrus juice or water instead.

But the moment you met Yeosang, a man of poise and challenge yet such a soft person towards you the moment he laid his eyes on your exquisite form, your steadfast aversion to drinking faced its first real challenge. It started innocently enough during a lively occasion. Amidst the chatter of friends by the bar of the hotel of a birthday of a friend you were attending, Yeosang handed you a cup filled with beer, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. You politely declined, offering him a gentle smile.

“I don’t drink,” you said simply.

His surprise was evident, his brows lifting for a moment before his lips curled into a soft, understanding smile. He took the cup back without hesitation, handing it off to Wooyoung, who eagerly accepted. Yeosang’s reaction made you feel safe, like your choices were valid and respected.

Despite you being older than him, yet he made you feel that everything you feel is alright and valid.

"Very well, my dear." His voice was slur yet cool as he took a seat next to you.

The second time, however, was a little different. It was just you and Yeosang, sharing a quiet evening on the night of your anniversary. The warm glow of candles lit the room, casting a soft, intimate light over the table. Yeosang walked in carrying a bottle of fine red wine, its deep ruby color glinting invitingly.

"Dear, I bought wine!" He paused in his tracks as soon as he realized—perhaps he had forgotten—that you didn’t drink. His eyebrows furrowed and the way his eyes close tight shut is enough to know he had totally forgotten as he set the bottle down on the table, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Before he could say anything, you stepped forward and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. “It’s okay, Yeo~ You can have it while we watch,” you said warmly, your words brushing away his discomfort.

Yeosang’s expression softened, his shoulders relaxing as he gave you a grateful smile. “Are you sure? I can put it away if you’re not comfortable.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. Besides, I think I’m curious.”

That caught him off guard. His eyes widened slightly, curiosity of his own surfacing as he watched you glance at the bottle. You rarely, if ever, showed interest in alcohol, and yet here you were, eyeing the wine with an almost childlike wonder.

As the evening unfolded, the two of you settled on the couch, a movie playing softly in the background. Yeosang poured himself a glass of wine, sipping it occasionally as he relaxed beside you. You, on the other hand, found your eyes drifting toward the glass every so often.

It was until your movie night was cut off by a call from his slacks that he changes into his usual sweatpants. With a heavy sigh and sympathy look you gave him as he walks towards his clothes, ruffling through the pockets and answered with a stone-cold tone.

"Better be valid or I'll have you drink your own blood." Despite it being a whisper, it sent chills down your spine upon remembering who you are dating.

Yeosang, is what they all call the 'Bishop chess piece', his long-range attacks. His skills in technology made him go beyond the firewall and can check and capture major delicate so easily.

Of course, with the help of his longtime partner in crime, Wooyoung.

As he speaks on the phone, your eyes drift from the wine glass he is holding on the other hand. He swirls it easily as he took a sip and speaks once again.

It intrigues you on how he is easily balancing his life as being the hacker-tech of ateez and being a lovely soft boyfriend towards you. You sigh softly as curiosity was a powerful thing, and tonight, it seemed to have you firmly in its grasp.

You have heard various rumors whenever you mention Yeosang's name and many of them are from women that he "used" to be with when in reality, they were just woman in their delusion era.

How his cock had hit each spots that sent every woman squirting, his rough hands smacking leaving prints to your skin. And that peak your curiosity as Yeosang has always been the gentle type towards you.

When Yeosang had ended the call and sat down beside you, not before taking a huge sip on his wine and set his glass down on the table. Suprising Yeosang, you leaned forward, your brow furrowing slightly as you picked it up. The scent of the wine wafted toward you, rich and complex. You hesitated for a moment before sniffing it, trying to decipher its layers.

Yeosang noticed your curiosity and chuckled softly. “You can always try it, sweetheart,” he said, his tone reassuring. “Only if you want to, though.”

You glanced at him, your expression thoughtful. “What does it taste like?”

Yeosang’s lips pursed slightly, a familiar look of concentration taking over his face. It was the same look he had when he was trying to solve a puzzle or decide on a dessert. “This one’s a few hundred years old,” he said at last. “They say the older the wine, the sweeter it is.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on your lips. “Like how we have a five-year gap?”

Yeosang’s cheeks flushed a deep red, and he immediately began waving his hands in protest. “I-I meant the wine!” he stammered, his voice tinged with panic. “Not us—well, I mean, not that it’s a bad thing, but—”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, your teasing remark having achieved its intended effect. His flustered state was endearing, and you leaned back against the couch, your laughter gradually fading into a soft chuckle.

“I’m just messing with you, Yeo~ Calm down,” you said, patting his knee affectionately.

Yeosang pouted, crossing his arms but unable to hide the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though the warmth in his voice betrayed his amusement.

"Well... it's sweet with a hint of bitterness, but since it’s aged, the sweetness outweighs the bitter notes," he explained thoughtfully. "You’ll notice the sweetness more in the aftertaste. It’s not too bitter, and it doesn’t linger for long."

You nodded, intrigued, and swirled the drink gently before handing the glass back to him. "So it is sweet?" He nodded. Yeosang took it from your hands and drank the remaining wine whilst your next move was he was not expecting.

Seizing the moment, you cupped the back of Yeosang's neck, pulling him closer until your lips collided with his. His eyes widened in surprise as you parted his lips slightly, and the wine he hadn’t yet swallowed trickled onto your lips, some of it dripping down both your chins in a messy, intoxicating mix of sweetness and heat.

As the wine touched your tongue, you were taken aback by its flavor—just as Yeosang had described, sweet with only the faintest trace of bitterness. You pulled back with a soft hum, licking your lips as you murmured, “It does taste sweet.”

Yeosang blinked rapidly, still stunned, his mind trying to process what had just happened. A flush crept up his neck, spreading across his face as he watched you chuckle and look away. His body, now uncomfortably warm, felt an unfamiliar tension building within him—an urge for more of the intimacy you’d just shared.

Wordlessly, he reached out, his thumb brushing along your chin to wipe away the stray drops of wine before his hand lingered near your lips. His gaze darkened slightly as he watched you, utterly captivated, as your tongue darted out to swipe against his thumb.

A low, almost involuntary hum escaped him before he finally pulled back, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of shyness and a smoldering desire he couldn’t quite suppress.

"In my room and strip. Don't make me wait."

“O-Oh fuck … Yeosang .. baby slow down.” Your eyes had rolled back from pure ecstasy as he locked his fingers around your jawline as he slammed his hips back to yours aggressively, hitting from the back, on that same spot time and time. The sound of skin to skin echoes the chamber of your room, the change of temperature from your ragged breath and warm bodies had moist most of the windows inside— such spacious apartment yet every room and floor has marked by you and Yeosang fucking everywhere and every chances he gets.

Yeosang let out a dark chuckle as he leaned in close to your ear, “Don’t think about a single drop.” It wasn’t long Yeosang let a gasp-cry left his lips as he is nearing his climax; pulling out as quickly as before he slams back in after switching positions with you as Yeosang places both of your legs on one side of his shoulders.

Gripping your thighs tightly in his warm palm as his head throws back as his hips stills, the tip of his cock hitting the spongy spot as he spurts his cum all over your walls. Biting your lips as you grip your tits in your hand and the other on his thigh as you also come down from your high.

When Yeosang pulls out, he grabs each of your legs and lets them wrap around his waist before plunging back in. The overstimulation made you cry, tightly gripping on his muscle thighs, “Oh fuck!” He chuckles, leaning forward as he places his lips on your lips for a brief second before pulling away, “That’s my good mommy. Can Yeosangie have another round?”

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #ateez yeosang #kang yeosang x reader #kang yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #yeosang smut #yeosang ateez

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ageingfangirl2 · 4 months ago

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Best Friends Know Best - Baji & Chifuyu (Tokyo Revengers)

After a night of partying three friends decide to take their friendship to the next level after all best friends know best. Baji & Chifuyu x Female Reader (SMUT)

*SMUT, fingering, degrading names, threesome*

WORD COUNT: 3684

You had decided to host a small party to celebrate graduating from high school. You were happy that everyone from Toman could attend, especially your best friends and partners in crime, Baji and Chifuyu. As the night turned into morning, everyone had left and the three of you were alone in your living room.

You stumble slightly and Chifuyu catches you, touching your warm cheek, and shakes his head, ‘you’re quite drunk,’ he remarks on your drunken state.

Before you can reply you feel Chifuyu pushed aside and Baji takes his place before you, ‘Let me carry you to your room.’

However Chifuyu stopped him, their intense stare off revealing unspoken emotions, as if they were competing for something precious.

You giggle at the sight and lean against Jake for support, ‘I’m not that bad,’ you slur, before glazing over at Chifuyu, ‘you always know how to make me feel better…Chifuyu…’

You then turn your attention back to Baji, eyes sparkling with mischief despite your inebriation, ‘...and Baji…so strong and protective…I love it when you take care of me like this,’ you smile and nuzzle your face into his chest, swaying a bit, ‘You guys are the best…I don’t know what I’d do with you..’

With your head nuzzled in Baji’s chest, you couldn’t see his face flush a deep shade of red as he held you close, savouring the warmth of your body pressed against his. His hands roamed your back, tracing the curve of your spine through your dress, ‘we’ll always be here for you. No matter what,’ he whispers, his voice husky. The sincerity in his words was palpable, and you could tell he meant every last syllable.

Meanwhile, Chifuyu’s piercing eyes never left yours, drinking in the sight of you in a daze of intoxication. He reaches out and tenderly brushes some hair off your face, ‘Just relax. We’ve got you,’ he murmurs, his touch feather-light yet possessive.

You lean into Baji’s embrace, feeling safe and cherished by his strong arms. You move to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent, ‘Mmm, Baji... you smell so good, you whisper, your breath hot against his skin. Your fingers play with the hem of his shirt, teasingly tugging it loose.

At Chifuyu’s gentle touch on your face, you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, your lips parting slightly. You reach up to cup his face, stroking his cheek with a soft palm, ‘Chifuyu... you always know how to make me feel special,’ you coo, your voice dripping with affection. Your thumb brushes over his lower lip, making him shiver.

As you caressed Chifuyu’s face, he closed his eyes, savouring the intimate contact. A low growl rumbled in his throat, barely audible over the music still playing in the background, ‘You're the only one who can make me feel this way,’ he breathed, his voice thick with longing. His hands found your hips, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the hard planes of his body, the heat emanating from his skin.

Baji, however, seemed to sense the charged atmosphere building between you and Chifuyu. He tightened his grip around your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh possessively, ‘Hey, let's get you to bed before things get out of hand,’ he suggested gruffly, though there was no mistaking the undercurrent of desire in his tone.

You giggle again, the sound breathy and sultry, as you feel the tension between your two best friends. You sway slightly, your movements languid and sensual.

‘Oh, come on Baji... we're all adults here,’ you tease, your voice a playful purr. You look up at Chifuyu with hooded eyes, your lips curling into a seductive smile, ‘Besides, Chifuyu seems to want some alone time with me…’

You turn yourself around to face Chifuyu leaving Baji’s embrace, your breasts grazing his chest as you wind your arms around his neck. Your hips roll against his, deliberately seeking friction, ‘What do you say, Chifuyu? Want to show me to my room?’ Your words are slurred, but the intent behind them is crystal clear.

Chifuyu’s eyes darkened with lust as he felt your supple curves molding against him. His hands slid down to grip your ass, squeezing the firm globes as he ground his hardening erection against you, ‘Fuck yes, I do’ he growled, his voice rough with need. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you thoroughly.

Baji, however, wasn't about to give up so easily. He roughly pulled you away from Chifuyu, spinning you around to face him again. His eyes blazed with jealousy and desire as he crushed his mouth to yours in a bruising kiss, ‘No fucking way am I letting him have you all to himself,’ he snarled against your lips, his hands roaming your body with desperate hunger.

You moan into the heated kiss with Baji, your body melting against his. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging sharply as she grinds her hips against his straining bulge, ‘Mmm, Baji... I need you,’ you pant, breaking the kiss to trail your lips along his jawline. Your teeth nip at his earlobe, tugging on the sensitive flesh.

You turn your head, catching Chifuyu’s gaze over your shoulder. Your eyes smoulder with desire, inviting him to join in. You beckon him closer with a crooked finger, your lips curving into a wicked grin, ‘You too... I want you both,’ you purr, your voice dripping with sinful promise. Your hands slide down Baji’s chest, your nails raking over his nipples through his shirt.

Chifuyu’s pupils dilated at your provocative invitation, his breathing heavy with anticipation. He stalked towards you, his movements predatory and deliberate. Once close enough, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his muscular frame.

‘Then take us both,’ he rasped, his lips hovering inches from yours. His free hand slid beneath your dress, fingertips dancing along the lace edge of your panties.

Baji, not to be outdone, palmed your breasts, his calloused touch sending jolts of pleasure through you. He leaned in, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispered, ‘I'll fuck you so hard, you won't remember anyone else's name but mine.’

You arch into Baji’s touch, a gasp escaping your lips as he pinches your nipple through the thin fabric of your dress. You roll your hips, grinding against Chifuyu’s exploring hand, craving more of his tantalising caresses.

‘Yes, I want to forget everything except the feel of you inside me,’ you whimper, your voice ragged with need. You capture Chifuyu’s mouth in a fierce kiss, your tongue tangling with his.

Breaking away, you turn your attention to Baji, your lips seeking his in a passionate collision. As they kiss deeply, you guide Chifuyu’s hand to the zipper of your dress, helping him with shaking fingers.

‘I need you both... now,’ you demand.

Chifuyu’s fingers deftly unzipped your dress, the garment slipping off your shoulders to pool at your feet. Your breasts, already hardened with arousal, were revealed in all their glory. He palmed the warm mounds, thumbs circling your pebbled nipples, ‘So beautiful,’ he murmured, leaning down to capture a rosy bud between his lips. He suckled gently, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

Baji, meanwhile hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanked them down, exposing your slick folds to the cool air of the room, ‘Christ, you're soaked,’ he groaned, his fingers dipping into your wetness.

You cry out as Chifuyu’s skilled mouth works magic on your sensitive nipples, while Baji’s probing fingers explore your dripping sex. You writhe between them, lost in a haze of pleasure, ‘Oh God, yes... don't stop,’ you plead, your hips bucking against Baji’s hand. You reach down to guide Chifuyu’s head, urging him to take more of your breast into his mouth.

With a wicked grin, you push Baji back just enough to shimmy out of your dress and panties. Then, with a seductive sway of your hips, you step out of the garments, leaving yourself clad in nothing but her heels and a daze of desire.

‘Now, gentlemen... I believe it's time for the main event,’ you purr, leading them toward the bedroom with a hypnotic sway of your bare ass.

Chifuyu released your breast with a pop, his eyes dark with primal hunger as he watched you sashay towards the bedroom. He followed close behind, his cock straining against his jeans, aching to bury itself deep within your welcoming heat.

‘We're going to worship every inch of you,’ he vowed, his voice low and husky with promise.

Baji brought up the rear, his gaze fixed on your delectable rear end as it disappeared into the bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and quickly shed his clothes, revealing his chiselled physique and the impressive bulge at the base of his throbbing erection.

‘Get on the bed, baby,’ he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. Once you were lying back against the pillows, he climbed onto the mattress, positioning himself between your spread thighs.

You recline on the bed, your legs falling open in eager welcome as Baji settles between them. You reach for Chifuyu, drawing him down beside you until your bodies press together in a sensual tangle of limbs and heated skin.

‘Make me yours,’ you whisper, your eyes locked on Baji’s as he notches the broad head of his cock at your entrance. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he sinks into your welcoming warmth, stretching her deliciously around his girth.

As Baji begins to move, setting a steady rhythm that has you moaning in bliss, Chifuyu claims your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue dances with yours, mirroring the strokes of Baji’s hips as he drives deeper into her quivering depths.

Baji’s thrusts grew more forceful, his hips snapping against yours as he drove into you again and again. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your wanton moans and cries of pleasure.

‘Fuck, you feel incredible,’ he growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He angled his thrusts to hit that sweet spot inside you, determined to make you come undone.

Meanwhile, Chifuyu’s hands roamed your body, mapping every curve and valley with reverent touches. He cupped your breasts, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers as he continued to ravage your mouth with his own.

‘So responsive, so perfect,’ he breathed against your lips, his own arousal evident as his cock twitched against your thigh.

Your back arches off the bed as Baji’s relentless pounding strikes that magical spot deep within you. Your inner walls clench around him, milking his thick length as waves of pleasure crash over you.

‘Yes, right there!’ you scream, your nails digging into Baji’s back as you ride the crest of your climax. Your body trembles, on the verge of shattering into a million pieces.

Just as you teeter on the brink, Chifuyu’s fingers find your clit, rubbing firm circles that send you hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm rips through you like a tsunami, your vision blurring as you convulse around Baji’s still-thrusting cock.

‘Oh god, oh god, I'm coming!’ you wail, your voice raw with ecstasy.

With a hoarse shout, Baji buried himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilt his seed deep within your spasming channel, ‘Fuck yes, milk my cock,’ he grunted, his hips jerking erratically as he rode out the aftershocks of his intense release.

Chifuyu, ever the attentive lover, didn't let up on his ministrations, continuing to stroke you through your earth-shattering climax. When you finally collapsed back against the bed, boneless and spent, he gathered you into his arms, cradling you against his chest,

‘That's it, baby. Let go. We've got you.’

You melt into Chifuyu’s embrace, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his familiar scent as you try to catch your breath.

‘That was... incredible,’ she murmurs, her voice ragged, ‘I don't think I can move.’

Baji chuckles, carefully pulling out of you and flopping onto the bed beside them. He drapes an arm across your stomach, pulling you closer to his sweat-slicked body.

‘You don't have to, sweetheart. We're nowhere near done with you yet,’ he promises, his tone playful but with an underlying hint of possessiveness.

Chifuyu nods in agreement, his hand sliding down to cup your ass. Mmmm, round two?

Baji rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he gazed down at your flushed face. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss before trailing his mouth along your jawline and down the column of your throat.

‘I could spend hours exploring this gorgeous body of yours,’ he murmured, nipping at your collarbone, ‘Every dip, every curve... I want to know it all by heart.’

Behind you, Chifuyu pressed himself flush against your backside, letting you feel the renewed hardness of his cock nestled between your butt cheeks. He slid a hand up to cover your breast, teasing the nipple into a stiff peak, ‘We're going to take our time with you,’ he promised, his voice a low rumble in her ear, ‘Worship every inch of you until you're begging us for release.’

A soft gasp escapes your lips as Chifuyu’s hand cups your breast, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. You arch into his touch, craving more of his skilled caresses.

‘Mmm, I like the sound of that,’ you purr, tilting your head to give Baji better access to your throat. You can feel his hot breath fanning over your skin, igniting a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

‘But I'm not sure how long I can last,’ you admit, your voice tinged with need. You guys are driving me wild…’

Your hips roll back against Chifuyu, seeking friction against his rigid length. You bite your lip, trying to stifle a whimper as you feel him throb against you, ‘Please, I need…’

Baji smirked at your plea, relishing the effect he and Chifuyu had on you. He licked a stripe up your neck before sucking your earlobe between his teeth, ‘What do you need, sweetheart? Tell us,’ he coaxed, his hand drifting lower to brush over her mound. He could feel the slick evidence of her arousal coating her thighs.

Behind you, Chifuyu mirrored Baji’s actions, trailing kisses along your shoulder blade while his fingers teased the underside of your breast. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging gently, ‘Do you need our cocks filling you up? Stretching you wide and hitting all the right spots?’ he asked, grinding his erection against the cleft of your ass, ‘Because we'd be more than happy to oblige.’

You squirm beneath their touch, your body aching with a desperate need only they can satisfy. You rock your hips shamelessly, seeking more of that delicious friction, ‘Yes, I need your cocks inside me,’ you beg, your voice high and breathy with desire, ‘Fill me up, stretch me wide…’

You reach back, tangling your fingers in Chifuyu’s hair and yank his head down for a searing kiss. At the same time, you wrap your free leg around Baji’s waist, using the leverage to grind yourself against his straining erection, ‘Please, I'm so empty... I need you both to fuck me now!’ you plead, desperation colouring your words.

Baji groaned at your wanton display, his cock twitching eagerly against your slick folds. He grabbed your thigh, hiking your leg higher around his hip as he positioned himself at your entrance, ‘Since you asked so nicely,’ he purred, slowly pushing forward until just the tip breached her tight heat. He paused there, savouring the exquisite sensation before surging ahead, burying himself balls-deep in one smooth thrust.

Behind you, Chifuyu gripped your hips, holding you steady as he aligned himself with your dripping slit. He rubbed the swollen head of his cock up and down your folds, gathering your juices before pressing forward, ‘Fuck, you're always so tight,’ he gritted out, gritting his teeth as he fought the urge to slam home, ‘I'm gonna fill this little cunt so full of cum…’

You cry out as Baji’s cock splits you open, stretching you impossibly wide. The sudden fullness sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your core, making your toes curl and your vision blur, ‘Ohhh fuuuck, Just like that!’ you moan, your nails digging into Baji’s shoulders as he begins to move. Each powerful thrust sends your hips bucking back to meet him, creating a delicious rhythm.

When Chifuyu finally sinks into you, the dual invasion is almost too much to handle. You feel so utterly filled, stretched to your limits by the combined girth of their cocks. A keening wail tears from your throat as you start to ride them harder, chasing your impending climax, ‘Don't stop, please don't stop!’ you chant, your voice rising in pitch.

Baji sets a relentless pace, pounding into your sopping cunt with deep, forceful strokes. The obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, mingling with their laboured breaths and your moans.

‘That's it, take it just like that,’ he growls, angling his hips to hit that special spot inside her with each thrust, ‘Gonna fuck this greedy pussy 'til you're screaming for mercy.’

Behind you, Chifuyu matches Baji’s rhythm, sandwiching you between their hard bodies. His hands roam your curves possessively, tweaking your nipples and delivering sharp smacks to your bouncing ass, ‘Such a good little slut for us, he praises, his voice rough with lust. Milking our cocks so fucking well…’

Your world narrows to the intense sensations coursing through your body, the relentless pounding of Baji’s cock, the deeper, slower thrusts of Chifuyu’s behind you, the biting pain and overwhelming pleasure of being claimed so thoroughly.

‘Yes, yes, yes! Oh God, I'm so close!’ you scream, your voice hoarse and ragged, ‘Don't stop, keep fucking me, please!’

Your inner walls clench and ripple around Baji, trying to milk him for all he's worth. You can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring ready to snap, ‘F-fill me up, I need your cum!’ you beg, your hips jerking wildly as you chase your release.

The feeling of your silken walls clamping down on him is almost enough to push Baji over the edge. He redoubles his efforts, hammering into you with short, sharp jabs that have you seeing stars, ‘Shit, I'm gonna cum,’ he warns through gritted teeth, his movements becoming erratic, ‘Gonna pump you full of my seed, make this pussy mine.’

Chifuyu isn't far behind, his balls drawing up tight as his own climax approaches. He leans forward, sinking his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he pistons into her from behind, ‘Cum for us,’ he demands, reaching around to rub furious circles over your clit, ‘Let go and cum all over our cocks like a good girl!’

Your entire body seizes up as the first wave of your orgasm crashes over you. Your vision whites out, your mind going blank as pure, unadulterated ecstasy consumes you, ‘AHHH FUCK, YES!!’ you wail, your back arching sharply off the bed as you come undone. Your pussy spasms violently around Baji, milking his throbbing cock for every drop of his scorching hot release.

At the same time, Chifuyu’s bite and frantic stroking send you hurtling into another peak. This one is even more intense, your second climax ripping through you like a tidal wave and leaving you a quivering, sobbing mess, ‘I-I'm cumming again!’ you gasp, your voice barely audible over the thunderous pounding of your heart, ‘Oh God, oh fuck, I'm cumming so much!’

Baji lets out a guttural roar as your rippling walls trigger his explosive climax. He buries himself to the hilt, painting your insides with thick ropes of his cum as he pumps you full to bursting, ‘Take it all, you dirty slut,’ he growls, his hips jerking erratically as he empties his heavy balls deep within you, ‘Gonna breed this sweet cunt…’

Chifuyu follows suit, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. He grunts harshly, his cock pulsing as he floods your already stuffed channel with his seed, ‘Fuuuck yeah,’ he pants, nipping at her earlobe, ‘So perfect, taking our cum like such a good little cumslut…’

As the last tremors of your climaxes subside, you collapse back onto the bed, your body limp and spent. You can feel the warm, sticky fluid of Baji and Chifuyu’s releases filling you, marking you as theirs in the most primal way.

‘Mmmph... so full,’ you mumble, your eyes drifting shut as a contented sigh escapes your lips, ‘Love feeling your cum inside me... makes me feel so owned, so claimed by you both.’

You shift slightly, your oversensitive pussy clenched tightly around the still-hard cocks buried deep within you. A soft whimper escapes you as the sensation of being so thoroughly fucked and filled sends a shiver down your spine, ‘Can we stay like this for a bit?’ you ask, your voice drowsy and pleading, Just basking in the afterglow…’

Baji and Chifuyu exchange a knowing glance over your slumped form, a silent communication passing between them. They both nod, settling in to hold their shared lover close as they catch their breath, ‘Of course, babygirl,’ Baji murmurs, pressing tender kisses along her temple.

‘We've got you. Just relax and let us take care of you now,’ Chifuyu wraps his arms around your waist from behind, spooning you against his chest as he nuzzles into your hair, ‘You did so well, sweetheart,’ he praises softly, ‘Took us so perfectly...Such a good girl for us.’

You lay there together, basking in the intimate closeness and the fading embers of your passion. In this moment, nothing else matters - only the three of you, joined as one in the aftermath of your lovemaking.

#anime imagines #anime smut #anime fanfiction blog #anime fanfiction #anime imagines blog #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo rev #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #fanfiction blog #keisuke baji #chifuyu matsuno #tokyo revengers headcanons #kinktober

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fcwoso · 1 year ago

Text

Personal tattoo artist · Mapi León

Summary: Mapi helps reader to overcome her fears but not without a cheeky proposal (fluffy)

MASTERLIST

María has always loved tattoos. It didn't matter if she was the one getting them or someone else, it was something she felt passionate about. She saw the body as a canvas, one that would tell it's own story as time passed by. The drawings and words each represented something, a thought or a feeling. Even if it referred to a miniscule moment. It wasn't a surprise when she announced that, that would be the career path she'd follow when her time as a soccer play would come to an end. On one side it was a scary thought, football is all she has been doing for most of her life.

"Amor (love), come on. You trust me, right?" María pouted as she put her sketchbook down. The book was filled with her creative ideas, she even dedicated a few pages to you. Sketches that reminded her of you, ones that she'd love you to get tatted. The Spanish woman pulled you closer and nuzzled her face in your neck. You could feel her sighing for the umpteenth time this evening, but not before she left a trail of kisses on your warm skin. She wasn't really frustrated, she just loved being a bit dramatic.

The evening started out relaxed. María had training in the morning which meant you two had the rest of the day to spent together. After Googling for a nice place to eat, you decided to go to a restaurant not far from your appartment. Unfortunately once arrived at the place, you stumbled upon a poster that said the place was under reconstruction.

The mood was pretty much killed after that but María came up with the brilliant idea to cook something at home. The muscles in her legs were still aching and all she wanted was to have a nice meal and watch a good show, was what she said. In reality she prefered cuddling on the couch with you. Her muscles were completely fine, she felt great even.

The now empty plates were placed on the glass table in front of the lovers while the tv was still on in the background. "Yes, cariño (honey). Ofcourse i do. It's just that i'm scared i'll regret it." You admitted. A few weeks ago you two went to visit an old friend of hers. That friend is a tattoo artist and offered you to get a tattoo of your choice. You actually had something in mind but backed out last minute. It was this intense fear of regret that kept your mind wondering if it was a good idea to continue, so you didn't.

María's hands found yours as she noticed you were actually worried. It really wasn't that big of a deal, but she didn't want to downplay your emotions. Your thumb grazed over the rose that was displayed on her palm. The rose was her own work, it was a piece she was proud of. And so were you, you were so proud of her courage. The exact courage you were currently missing.

"You know, it's okay to feel that way." María engulfed one hand of yours in hers while the other one travelled to your chin. "I just don't want you to regret not getting it". She softly placed a kiss on your lips and smoothed out the frown between your eyebrows. It's true, it's been a couple of months since you've started talking about this tattoo. Your lips found hers again right after she pulled away, missing her reassuring touch. Her eyes twinkled as she stared at your face, a child-like smile growing on hers.

"Just a reminder, i can do the job as well." María said with raised eyebrows. She wrapped her arms around your waist, you could feel her getting excited at the idea because of the way she was almost restricting your blood flow. "I mean..." You wondered. It's María. Mapi. Your partner in crime. How would you ever be able to regret this tattoo?

She did have the equipment for it, she had the skills as well. "Princesa." María stood up firmly and placed her hands on her sides. "I believe in you." You started giggling, not being able to take her seriously because of the look on her face. "You're lucky you're cute." You said. Eyes following her frame when she made her way out of the living room. She came back with another book, a smaller book than the one she was drawing in earlier.

"What's that?" You asked, curiosity growing bigger by the second. "Oh, this old thing?" Maria huffed and laughed nervously. A few strands of hair were covering her face, she started to scan the pages of the mysterious book. "Escúchame (listen), i have this theory." You couldn't help but laugh at her behaviour, your fingers stroking her short hair back behind her pierced ears. "You should go for something totally different, you don't want to get a tattoo you've had major doubts about."

"Okay, but what does this book have to do with it?" You asked, still not fully understanding the purpose of it. The book was quickly placed in your hands by your lover. The woman next to you started to grow shy under your stare, which is unusual for her, feeling as if she had just exposed one of her biggest secrets. "These are sketches i've never shared with anyone. I'm sure you'll find one that perfectly suits you." María admitted with a soft smile on her face. You couldn't help but pull her closer in your arms, leaving a couple of kisses to the side of her face and on her now slightly red cheeks.

"Thank you." The sincere words were very much appreciated by the footballer. "I'd love to share some other ideas, though." The Spanish woman gained her confidence back in a matter of time. You suddenly found yourself sitting on her lap, legs on each side of her strong body. Her hands wandered around your waist and eventually rested on your thighs that were covered by one of her joggers. "There's this really cool name, something along the lines of Mani, Mapi?" She began. One of her hands moved and rested on your lower back, you quickly understood what she was proposing. "Yeah, there's no way i'm getting a tramp stamp."

#mapi leon x reader #maria leon x reader #mapi leon one shot #mapi leon #barcelona femeni x reader #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine

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blueberrypancakesworld · 4 months ago

Note

Hiiii, loved the NSFW alphabet for The Demon, perchance may I request headcanons on him with a first time submissive that uses the safeword? Hope you’re having a great day and if not I hope it gets better :)

The art of consent and words

The demon x girlfriend!reader

warning : smut (not fully explicit), no use of y/n, kissing, dom/sub, safeword use, mention of crying, aftercare, blindfold, mention of biting, gun play

Summary : In his career not only as a policeman and thus solver of the crime, but also in his career as far as his personal relationships are concerned, he had already had several partners but none was as gentle and beautiful as his current one…and above all so attractive when she told him that she would like to try out what it would be like if she were completely his.

info : Omg I'm so happy about the request for the demon, thank you for that and I hope you enjoy reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The relationships he had weren't always lasting, whether it was because of his job as a policeman who was constantly on missions or whether it was because he was into a little something unusual when it came to the bedroom, he didn't quite know. The job and his preferences were actually something quite normal, at least for him, and the acquaintances he had didn't seem to mind either, but the days when he woke up alone in his flat, the bed next to him empty, or the voice of a woman who disappeared again after breakfast and he was alone did bother him a little. Being alone was fine, but having someone else with him would have been nicer…and a wish that soon came true when he came across someone on the side of the road with a flat tyre during a normal patrol, and just a few months later, the said car owner with the new tyre found himself in his flat and so the relationship began…...

°The initial make out sessions started rather slowly, he had quickly realised that his love did not take over uninhibitedly, a hint of overprotection and insecurity seemed to run through her every time she sat on his lap, her thighs against his and exposed to his gaze. There was a look in his blue eyes that sent a shiver down her spine, ,,If you're not the most beautiful thing in the world," he murmured to her, before he drew her into a kiss.

°A kiss in which she felt his hands on her hips, the grip firm but not uncomfortable, her heart beating fast as she thought that no matter what happened he would never overstep the bounds of the word. A word they had discussed together over a glass of wine on the couch with the TV on in the background. She knew it and he knew that especially for first time submissives there were rules and boundaries, but never had he made her feel like she wasn't enough, ,,Honey…is that really okay? I mean, what if I did something wrong?" she had asked, nervously playing with the corner of her jumper.

°But it was his hand that had touched her back then on her neck he came closer to her and his look wasn't intimidating, on the contrary it was full of candour, ,,There's a first time for everything and if you say the safeword I'll stop immediately, besides you couldn't do anything wrong just relax and I'll take care," he returned before his lips came down on hers just like now when he suddenly took her gently but firmly from him and she felt the mattress beneath her.

°The cool softness of the cover made her squirm as the pillows enveloped her, she let her gaze wander over him, his upper body exposed, his lower body clad in jogging bottoms and she didn't even need her imagination to know what it looked like underneath, ,,Do you like to look and gawp, yes? Here let me help you darling" she suddenly heard his voice rougher than before and saw him kissing his way along her hand but his grip on her other wrist slowly tightened, she closed her eyes trying to get involved with him and suddenly gasped as she felt his cool hand run over her neck.

°It was unlike anything she'd known before but the goosebumps, the excitement and her rapidly beating heart told her how much she liked it and her sigh from him sank into a kiss as she felt the blindfold on her face firm enough to take away all light, defenceless and just being there for him. She snapped to attention as she heard a rasp and flinched as he chained one of her wrists to the bed, ,,Wouldn't want a fine specimen like you to go off," he whispered and she felt the sweet brief pain of a bite he drew from her ear to her neck.

°The feeling of being trapped increased with every passing moment, the longer she lay there not knowing what he was doing, his voice as appealing as it was frightening, making her heart pound harder and harder. His hands, rough and strong, touched her head and her groaned as he spread her legs and just let her lie there for a moment, almost making her lose her mind, she endured it, enjoyed it and felt herself wanting more. Until the moment she felt the cold barrel of the gun run over her body.

°She had agreed, had agreed that he could play the nefarious cop who would just take her and she had no choice, knew she was curious about the gun but now with the knowledge that in theory it could all be over with one shot she was scared, frightened and when her trembling voice released the safeword as he released the safety catch she felt tears in her eyes, ,,It's all right okay? You're free now, don't worry I'll get you out just a moment" she immediately heard his voice clearer brighter full of worry and not excitement. She felt the blindfold come off around her head, mingling with the click of the handcuff as he placed the gun on the bedside table.

°She saw him take his hands lightly, ,,Do you see everything all right? You were SO good, I'm proud of you, do you need anything?" he continued, giving her a moment to pull the blanket over herself, take a breath and wipe away the tears, at which point he handed her a handkerchief, ,,Thank you…that was-I mean for a moment I really thought that-” she didn't finish the sentence and looked at the gun before smiling slightly as she saw him demonstrate that it wasn't loaded. Her boy friend put the gun back and carefully placed his hand on hers, not firmly but gently as if he wanted not to startle her.

°She felt her body slowly calming down again and she enjoyed his warmth and touch, taking his hand and giving him a slight smile, which he happily returned, ,,I'm so proud of you, I love you," he said, leaning his forehead against hers for a moment as they lay there together on the bed, hearts recovering from the experience, and he offered them both a glass of water and a few snacks. And she felt herself wanting to talk again that evening, felt how even though it was her first time with something like that, she didn't find it so off-putting or scary, the shock at the beginning had left her with a slight tingle, ,,I think I'd definitely keep trying it," she murmured, putting her hand on his as they sat together on the couch at the end of the day, watching something on the TV and drinking a glass of wine, knowing that this would ask for so much more than just that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@angelsanarchy , @starry-eyed-wild-child , @nsfwsimp-account , @tae-baefor3v3r , @rmwfe

#strange darling #strange darling the demon #kyle gallner #the demon x reader #male x female #no use of y/n

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woniverse-writes · 1 year ago

Text

"Moth to a Flame (part 5)"

Bada Lee x Reader

part 4 ⟵ part 5 ⟶ part 6

series masterlist

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 6k

warnings: swearing, angst, y/n is a little psycho asshole in this chapter, but like- bada.... eeh scary, a lot of plot changes cuz I like playing the victim lol, not proofread, ending was kind of rushed, nothing i write is a reflection of anyone's true character and is a work of total fiction

Shortly after Rie Hata’s message finished playing on the monitors all teams wrapped up their fun and began heading back to the studio to begin preparing for the mega crew mission. They all dry their hair and get changed, reapplying their makeup to prepare for filming again, when the host appears with another message. He congratulates the remaining teams for surviving, and at the mention of Tsubakill’s elimination y/n and the rest of Jam Republic immediately frown.

Daniel continues to explain the mission and informs them that there will be three different concepts that they have to use, but the way they will be decided is by group discussion. On top of that team Bebe has the benefit of going straight for whatever concept they want without discussion. The three creative prompts consisted of ‘outdoor’, ‘structure’, and ‘all gender’.

“Ooh we could definitely do something sick with structures” Audrey perked up and her partner-in-crime nodded in agreement before speaking

“Yeah but honestly I think we could do well with any of these…” y/n countered smirking cockily prompting Emma to hum and hold out her hand for a high five.

“I personally feel like we should go for outdoors. I already have so many ideas for what we could do and I know some of you do too…” the leader chimed in, eyeing Ling and Y/n at the mention of other members having ideas. They decide to have their three creative directors be Kirsten, Ling, and Y/n and the three begin coming up with their own separate ideas, with the help of another member.

When the crew came back together after a few moments of planning and creative briefing, they all shared their ideas. Kirsten came up with the idea of showcasing the beauty of New Zealand since it was most of their crew’s homeland- she wanted to shoot on the beach and have the rocks behind them. Ling’s idea was to take more of an approach that would appeal to their Korean audience, by incorporating more K-pop dance styles and music and shooting in the heart of the city with all the lights in the back. Everyone really liked both ideas, but y/n’s quickly became their favorite when she explained it.

“Okay so this might be too much, and could easily get muddled- but what if we did a sports theme? Like- we each represent a different sport or activity while also representing our culture or background… each of us could get a highlight and we’d all have our “teams” that would dance in our own styles- then we’d all come together in the end as a sort of pep-rally type thing…” y/n finished off the basic ideas of her take, and everyone immediately either nodded or clapped, thoroughly impressed with how quickly she had come up with such an elaborate idea.

“And this is exactly why you’re here girlfriend- forever a genius…” the leader nodded and smiled at her youngest, clapping her hands slowly and appreciatively. It was an idea that could work with all three concepts so the team decided to mark y/n’s as the top choice as of right now.

When all the teams gathered to pick their concept Jam Republic and Bebe were the only groups that chose something other than ‘structure’, Jam Republic sticking to their outdoor idea and Bebe going with the all gender category. After the pink team explained why they picked what they did, it caused Deep n Dap to change their pick to outdoor as well, saying it was because they felt their crew could easily rival Jam Republic, which caused Kirsten to maturely and professionally nod, while y/n covered her mouth and snickered.

After Jam Republic has guaranteed themselves a spot in the outdoor concept, they head back to their team hideout and begin to plan out their ideas in full. Y/n already begins to map out choreography for her and Ling’s sections, while Emma does the same for herself and Audrey, leaving Kirsten and Latrice to pair up. The girls decided to head back to New Zealand and take advantage of the scenery as part of the expression of their members’ culture. It was a nice blend of y/n and Kirsten’s concepts.

______

Y/n and Bada hadn’t really talked much since they began preparing for the Mega Crew mission, both focusing on their team’s success. Although they still texted daily, sometimes it was only a quick good morning or goodnight, while other times they had fuller conversations.

‘Have a safe flight, text me when you land plz!’ y/n read the message right before she got on the plane. She felt her heart swell at the little gesture of care, hearting the message and replying with a selfie of her in the airport paired with the words ‘thank you lovey, I will <3’.

Jam Republic boarded their plane and took off from South Korea to New Zealand, with many plans already going wrong as soon as the plane was in the air. You see, they had just been informed of how bad the weather was in the area, then about how many of the dancers they called for wouldn’t be able to make it. Each member was responsible for contacting and securing 10 members to come dance with them, explaining how the show would be paying for their trip and all the dancers had to do was show up and give it their best. It started off really well, with each of them actually coming back with more than 10 dancers. Then the weather hit. Flights were canceled or delayed to the point where people wouldn’t make it in enough time to learn the dance. On top of that, their idea to shoot at the beach was totally scrapped due to the intense winds. With the major setbacks of losing over half their dancers and not being able to use their original scene, the girls had to redo choreography and practically start the whole project over.

“This can’t be happening…” y/n was the first to start spiraling, ever the drama queen- but this time it was very justified. All six members of the crew stood in a circle in the middle of the studio floor, eyes flitting back and forth between each other and their leader, who was staring at the floor deep in thought. Kirsten let out a huge sigh and crossed her arms tensely.

“I’m sorry girls… but I really don’t know what we’re gonna do…” the leader ran her hands down her face and let out another deep breath, turning away for a moment with her hands on her hips. At that moment, the youngest realized how serious the situation really was, seeing as her leader wasn’t presenting her usual calm self. Typically when there was an issue, Kirsten was calm, cool, and collected- even if it seemed unsolvable… she always had an answer no matter what.

y/n being the perfectionist she is, began racking her brain for any possible solutions, already feeling her lungs begin to collapse at the possibility of complete failure. On top of being a perfectionist, the young girl also had a pretty bad case of savior complex, feeling like she had to fix everyone’s problems, especially when there was no one else who could- even if she knew that she herself probably wouldn’t be able to fix it either (at least not without bending over backward and bleeding herself dry).

“No… no we can easily fix this-” all eyes went to the youngest member who ran off to grab all their notebooks and bring them back over to where the crew still stood. She spread them out, riffling through the pages until she found ideas they could use.

“We can still use the stadium… it won’t be as grand of a scale as we wanted, but that can still work. And- and we can make it related to New Zealand instead of all of our different backgrounds, so it’s easier to put together and less choreography to make up… we can fix this!” y/n was frantically and hopefully (delusionally) explaining her ideas, trying as hard as she could to bring the team’s morale back up. They sat down in their circle and began connecting the ideas, just hoping for the best at this point

Even though the Jam Republic girls were frustrated, they only let it fuel their will to work even harder. It crushed y/n a little to have to scrap her idea, knowing it would’ve brought them an easy win, but she was determined to make their new routine strong. The team had ultimately decided to keep the athletic theme but changed it quite a bit to highlight rugby which was a big part of New Zealand culture. The girls planned on dancing in the bleachers and on the field to portray a Friday night lights feel, or a game- since it technically was still a competition between them and deep n dap.

A few days go by and it isn’t getting any easier for Jam Republic. As much as they try to stay positive, the insane lack of dancers makes it hard to achieve the impact they’re going for. Y/n kept saying how they needed to keep trying to find more dancers, but Kirsten just wanted to focus on perfecting the routine with what they had. The young girl also kept mentioning little ideas and elements to add in order to amplify the concept they were going for, but again the leader was more focused on solidifying the present piece. Y/n ended up getting so frustrated that she would just randomly start tearing up and crying during their breaks, not allowing herself to stop for more than 30 seconds, grabbing a quick sip of water, and then immediately going back to practicing. She thought that maybe if she gave it her all, she wouldn’t be as disappointed in herself when she wasn’t satisfied with the outcome.

Of course, all of the girls were on edge but they at least were able to put it aside at some moments, still being able to enjoy parts of the process. y/n tried her best not to let her teammates see how anxious and worked up she was, but the girl was so overwhelmed with fear of failure that it would be impossible for anyone not to see it. Which is why it made everything so much worse for her when she continued to go through the rest of the preparation without a single person asking what was wrong. Y/n understood- really, she did. Everyone needed to focus on the end goal, and that meant there wasn’t time to deal with her feelings.

Bada was beginning to worry, seeing as the last response she had gotten from y/n was days ago. The girl had landed her flight and texted the Bebe leader immediately, letting her know she was safe, but also explaining the problems that had already arisen. They talked briefly about how the pink team was likely going to have to restart everything if the weather didn’t ease up. Then a couple of days later, they talked on the phone about the complete concept change and reboot of their whole routine. Y/n tried to keep her stress to a minimum, not wanting to be a burden to the other girl who was also beginning to get stressed.

It had been many days since then, and she’d texted the younger girl three separate times as well as tried calling her twice. Bada finally got a response the day before Jam Republic would be flying back to Korea for the midterm mission check, where they as well as the other teams would be reviewing each other’s practice videos of the choreography. It had been a somewhat longer text message reading ‘hi. I’m really sorry for not responding at all for the last few days. I know you’re probably just as stressed as i am, so I’m sorry for not being able to be there. Things haven’t been going good over here and I’m honestly really scared to present what we have… but I’m sure everything will be fine haha. How have you been?’

Bada felt her heart clench at the girl’s words, understanding why she wasn’t responding but still feeling a bit upset nonetheless. It hurt her to see y/n try to brush off her stress and redirect her attention so it would focus on caring for others instead of caring for herself.

Jam Republic arrives back in South Korea and heads straight to the studio to film their reactions and judgments of the other teams. They immediately make their way to their pink hideout passing by other crews, but not having time to mingle or really do anything more than smile and wave. The girls were exhausted from the flight, jetlag, and overworking themselves. y/n didn’t even realize team Bebe wasn’t with the rest of the crews when they passed through the lobby.

Bebe sat in their room, feeling more anxious than usual, a bad vibe floating through the air. No one could quite put their finger on it, but something definitely wasn’t right and it was causing all of the members to feel its effects. It officially came time for all crews to review each dance practice video. Each team’s video played one by one and the members had time to fill out the review cards before moving on to the next.

Bebe’s video played next and the reactions were not positive, to say the least. Everyone seemed disappointed by the piece as a whole, expecting something much bigger- the music was too big of a risk, the props were poorly utilized, and it was overall just too simple. It wasn’t a bad video- it just didn’t meet anyone’s expectations since they were all waiting for some elaborate project, knowing Bada was very capable of doing so. Shortly after, a similar reaction was felt while everyone watched the Jam Republic video.

“They don’t have enough people…” Mina Myoung was the first to observe the team’s lack of crew members. They even paused the video to count how many were shown, seeing 28, which was under the minimum limit of 30 people.

“It honestly isn’t powerful enough… it’s just not impressive” Buckey commented, crossing her arms over her chest. Yoonji sighed and frowned.

“This is so sad… I was really rooting for them” The girl mumbled, genuinely feeling pity for the international team, hoping they’d be able to pull through.

When it came down to voting for the team that should be eliminated, Jam Republic ultimately chose Bebe. They were originally tied between voting for Bebe and Wolf'lo, with y/n fighting her best fight to vote for Wolf'lo because it just didn't look entertaining to her and they had no story or plot.

"y/n…" Kirsten started off in a warning but gentle tone

"We can’t just not pick Bebe because of you and Bada… this is a competition babe." and y/n was kinda hurt by that because she knows how to be objective and she didn't even think she was biasing Bebe- she just personally didn't like Wolf'lo and thought they should be eliminated over any other team.

Then it finally came down to the results. Each team would be given a scorecard showing the comments and feedback they’d received from the others. One card would reveal the team voted as most likely to place first, and another would reveal who was most likely to be eliminated. When Jam Republic opens their card, it felt like all of the air suddenly got sucked out of the room.

“God DAMN” Audrey laughed humorlessly in absolute shock, as they all stared at the words ‘MOST AT RISK FOR ELIMINATION’ in big bold letters at the top. y/n stopped breathing for a few seconds and she’s pretty sure everyone else did too, seeing as there was not a single sound to be heard in the dressing room. The young girl once again tried to convince herself to think rationally, but couldn’t get past the anxiety and crushing weight of failure that was starting to fill her lungs. She wasn’t even angry, even though she should’ve been because she understood. y/n understood that they didn’t meet the criteria, and their dance simply wasn’t as put together as it should've been, especially in comparison to other teams/

What really got her emotional was realizing that Bebe- that BADA- voted for them too… it felt like such betrayal and she wore that shit on her face like usual. But still- she didn't feel angry, just betrayed and heartbroken, and really fucking disappointed. The more mature and logical side of y/n was still trying not to jump to conclusions because maybe it wasn’t Bada that decided… Maybe it was the same situation her team had going on- maybe Bada didn’t want to vote for Jam Republic but the majority of others did. Y/n truly did understand everyone’s reasoning, but that didn’t make it hurt any less, especially having Bada vote to eliminate her as well

“It’s gonna be okay lovey… I promise” Kirsten wrapped her arm around the youngest’s shoulders and whispered reassuringly to her as she watched her begin to have a mental breakdown. Moments later, the rest of the crew’s ranking was revealed, showing 1 Million in first and Jam Republic in last, but also- Bebe in sixth, the second to last place. Seeing this, Bada sighed and began to have her own slight mental breakdown.

Some teams celebrated their rankings while others sat quietly, reviewing the feedback and pondering what to do. Jam Republic sat in silence as Kirsten read over the comments. Y/n sat by her side with her head in her hands sobbing silently, so overwhelmed that she didn’t know what to do. The entire team was at a loss, and soon Kirsten started crying too, wrapping and arm around the youngest members, who finally let her emotions be shown to her team. The loud cries were the only sound in the room.

Y/n was able to calm herself down after about 20 minutes of crying. The poor girl felt so awful about how things were going feeling responsible for a lot of it- thinking that maybe if she had pushed her ideas a little more, or gotten in contact with more people, or even just tried a little harder, maybe Jam Republic could’ve done so much better. Even though she’s calmed down, tears still flow down her face without her even realizing it. Y/n was never angry at anyone else for their opinions, but now she’s feeling awfully spiteful towards herself. The youngest member was filled with so much resentment and self-hatred, that it immediately sent her into an inescapable depression.

The show writers and staff were cruel. So cruel for making these girls show off their inspiration boards and creative briefs live in front of the other teams. Each team explains their given concept and how they came up with the details to highlight what they chose. While it was much more of a relaxed environment (in the sense that there would be no feedback or ranking based on this), a majority of contestants were nowhere near feeling at ease.

The members of Jam Republic were able to build themselves back up and put on their game faces while presenting, except for y/n. She really did try her best to not look like she was about to cry at the drop of a hat, but it was no use. The girl was simply not herself. The small girl’s usually bright and energetic personality was nowhere to be found, not once cracking even a hint of a smile- even when Jam Republic received immense praise for their ideas. She didn’t find any enjoyment in the other crew’s presentations, although to be fair she wasn’t really able to focus on them- she just sat there in a daze.

It made everyone nervous to see Jam Republic’s youngest member like this. Her members noticed that she had become even more irritable than before- but now in a scary way that genuinely had them concerned for themselves and everyone else. The girl was calm but you could just feel the rage and depression and resentment radiating off of her to the point it made chills run down your spine.

_________

After every crew had shared their ideas and idea boards, they were allowed to go back to head back to their hideouts to discuss any adjustments or further plans that had to be made before returning to their projects. Jam Republic had to get right back on a plane in a few hours to head back to New Zealand and somehow fix their entire routine, again.

Y/n just finished walking up the staircase leading from the fight zone to the crew lounges, when she heard someone call out her name from closely behind her. The girl turned around to come face to face with the tall leader she had been talking with for the last few months.

“Hey, are you okay? I called your name like three times…” Bada questioned worriedly, her eyebrows furrowed and head tilted as she waited for the younger girl’s response, with wide caring eyes.

“...I'm just really tired” y/n whispered in the meekest voice possible, already feeling her eyes start to sting again, but trying to cover it up with a smile. Bada sighs and pulls her into a big hug, and surprisingly y/n doesn’t burst into tears. The girl continues to try as hard as possible to keep the droplets from escaping her eyes as she squeezes them shut.

“Look… I’m really sorry” the older of the two began resting her head atop y/n’s, but the shorter one felt her body tense at the apology already not liking where the conversation was headed. y/n let go of Bada’s waist and backed away, waiting for the older girl to continue.

“It wasn’t personal… the dance was still very good, and it’ll look even better with all of the ideas planned out!” she finished, referring to how her team had voted Jam Republic as the worst crew. Y/n’s face lost any emotion she had regained, looking empty and exhausted again, making Bada’s skin prickle.

“no, I understand” was all y/n spoke, already trying to disconnect from reality to save herself from crying again or making a bigger fool out of herself than she already has. But Bada is only more upset by the reaction, seeing as y/n just doesn’t seem at all like herself. The girl genuinely looks empty inside and no one on the show has ever seen her like this, in fact- no one in Jam Republic has even seen her like this and they’re all beginning to become extremely worried about her. And even though it’s clear the small girl just needs time and space, Bada decides to keep talking

“The vote was objective I promise, I don’t want you to think anything personally of it” At the end of the older girl’s sentence, y/n just felt the tiniest bit of a scowl make its way onto her face, feeling pissed off at the thought of someone once again thinking she doesn’t understand the concept of a competition.

“Obviously- I’m not stupid, this is a competition.” the harsh tone that comes out of the younger really throws Bada for a loop because she has never seen y/n speak to or about anyone like this- and it makes her feel sick to her stomach that her first time witnessing it is directed at her.

“I- no, what? Of course you’re not stupid! I just wanted to make sure… to make sure you knew. That’s all.” Bada started off a bit panicked and emotional but quickly was able to calm down and speak rationally, understanding the younger girl was known to have a bit of a temper. There was a long silent pause.

"did you decide on Jam Republic?" y/n asked a bit accusatorily

"Huh?" the older tilted her head, still absolutely confused about how this situation was occurring right now.

"did YOU, as in yourself, Bada Lee, decide to vote Jam Republic as the team to be eliminated, or was it someone else's idea…" There was silence for a moment before Bada sighed then pursed her lips

"We all decided-"

"but who's idea was it? Did you even argue it? Were you even thinking of anyone else? Or did you just immediately decide and agree that my team should be the next to go?" Bada didn’t say anything as she started to get a little frustrated, but she watched as y/n just scoffed at the lack of response and turned to walk away, rolling her eyes. Bada followed her and pulled her aside, a few feet away from the outside of Bebe's dressing room

"well you voted for my team as the worst, so how is this any fair at all?" the tall leader finally let her emotions take control of her as she shot back with much less frustration than her counterpart, but still irritated nonetheless.

"because I didn't want to vote for you! I fought to vote Wolf'lo over you guys because I know you don't deserve to go home! I understand it from an objective perspective- I promise Bada, I do- but that doesn't make it hurt any less!" There were a few beats of silence before y/n continued

"and it's honestly really infuriating that you don't think I understand that this is a competition-" she finished off quieter than before but still filled with annoyance and betrayal.

"WOAH- now when did I EVER say that??" now it was Bada’s turn to blow up

"Oh my god- you don't have to say it! You clearly think I'm just here to have fun and make friends!" y/n once again raised her voice, this time rising in pitch as well.

"Why would you say that??" Bada fired back and was immediately met with the calmest tone of voice y/n had spoken in since the argument began, and it terrified her.

"Bada- you haven't seen me as a threat once this entire competition… have you? Not to you, not to your team…" Bada stuttered for a second, completely blindsided by the argument

"where is this all coming from y/n?" the tall girl asked, genuinely concerned. y/n sighed and her eyes softened, shook her head.

"never mind" She turned and went to walk away, but Bada grabbed her by the wrist again and dragged her inside the blue team room, closing the door behind her

"you need to speak to me. You need to communicate with me what's going on right now because whatever you're feeling is totally valid- we had a rough day out there- fuck, we’ve had a rough few days, especially you- but that doesn't mean you get to take it out on me… so please tell what's wrong, so I can try to help." the older girl calmly and gently explained her thoughts and feelings to the girl in front of her, and y/n almost cracked. almost.

“I think it’s best for me to focus on the competition… building relationships clearly isn’t working out to my benefit" Her previously soft and watery eyes, had quickly cleared up within a few seconds, leaving her looking cold and unapproachable again. The response was petty and childish, y/n herself knew that, but she said to hurt Bada.

why do you want to hurt Bada? She was apologizing, why are you making this harder? You’re being childish and proving everyone right- you’re not fit for this competition, you’re too young y/n and you don’t know how to handle things when you actually need to.

The younger girl’s internal dialogue was emotional and resentful towards herself, but for once, the expression on her face didn’t show how she was truly feeling. The anger and hatred taking over her features wasn’t directed towards the older girl in front of her, which is what anyone witnessing the interaction would assume. y/n could feel her stomach churning and her face getting hot with embarrassment. She didn’t understand why she was acting like this and didn’t know how to get herself to stop.

It felt like hours had passed before Bada spoke again and when she did it was led by an aggressive scoff.

“You can’t be serious right now…” she challenged so calmly that it sent a chill up y/n’s spine, the younger girl’s resolve finally breaking down and it became apparent that she wasn’t actually as tough as she was trying to be. Bada could see the cold glare falter for a split second, watching as her eyes became full of emotion before the younger was able to reel it in again.

“Why wouldn’t I be serious? This is a competition and the only people I should be trusting are my teammates, I shouldn’t be letting my emotions get in the way of things…” y/n responded just as calmly. If anyone else were to be present for the interaction they probably would've froze to death due to how cold the two were being.

“Next time I'll make sure to vote objectively and solely based on what I see in front, instead of trying to think about who deserves to be here more.” she finished with an empty, tight-lipped smile, tilting her head feigning understanding, and Bada let out a humorless chuckle

“God- have you always been this manipulative?” it was her turn to try and hurt the other girl. y/n’s cocky grin dropped immediately and she straightened up entirely.

“Excuse me?” the younger girl furrowed her brows and scowled again

“You heard me…” Bada replied cooly and nonchalantly as if this were any other normal conversation

“I came to you, apologizing for what I did and your response to that is to start an argument- and THEN when you realize you’re in the wrong, you try to turn it on me?” the older girl finished, voice rising slightly

“I never turned it on you- I said how I needed to focus on the competition and stop being so friendly with everyone, how are you so self-absorbed to think that was about you?” y/n could barely even get her last word out before the other was shouting over her.

“BECAUSE IT WAS- it so obviously was a dig at me y/n, because who else are you close with? Huh??” the volume of Bada’s voice caused the younger girl to flinch, no longer being able to preserve her emotions. The tall girl took a few steps forward and leaned down, getting in y/n’s face.

“Who else can actually stand being around you…” shot after shot fired, Bada was doing a much better job at hurting y/n than y/n was doing hurting Bada. She wasn’t even thinking about how she used to tell herself that she would never be the reason y/n would be crying, and now here she is, feeling satisfied when she sees a single tear run down the girl's face. She wasn’t paying attention to how it sucked all the air out of her lungs and made her stomach turn in disgust, only noticing the minuscule feeling of satisfaction.

“I think it’s so funny how you say that, knowing damn well you get jealous any time someone even looks at me… you know better than anybody that anyone in this fucking place would love to be in your position-” and this caused Bada to let out a loud laugh of disbelief, backing away slightly before getting right back in her face

“Yeah? Then how come nobody even paid attention to you until I took notice… you know that’s the only reason you’re popular, right? If it had been anyone else, no one would’ve cared… admit it to yourself, nobody wants to be in my place y/n- they all wanna be in yours, so maybe think about how lucky you are…” Bada didn’t believe in a single thing that was coming out of her mouth, she honestly couldn’t even believe her own voice hearing how condescending and spiteful the words sounded as they left her lips. She could feel a slight ringing in her ears, part of her brain processing it as a tiny voice screaming at her to stop and that she was making a mistake. But the damage was already done.

Y/n was barely holding back tears anymore, pursing her lips and clenching her jaw did nothing to stop the flow of salty droplets from streaming down her face. Her nostrils flared slightly as she swallowed down sobs and tightly closed her eyes.

“I’m not having this conversation anymore…” she managed to get the words out without sounding horribly choked up as she turns away to leave, hand about to turn the knob as the older girl lets out another dry chuckle.

“Oh so now you wanna act mature? Let me tell you this isn’t the mature way to handle the situation anymore- you don’t know how to talk to people or resolve conflict, in fact you’re NOT confrontational at all, and are really just a scared little girl who’s all bark and no bite. You’re such a child- that’s all you are- is a FUCKING child…” it’s dead silent after Bada’s done screaming at her. Y/n turns around slowly and just stands there for a moment with a blank stare, then lets out the most dry, humorless laugh. It honestly scares the shit out of the older girl, eyes going wide and face paling, coming to her senses and realizing how fucked the situation was.

Y/n was smiling and laughing, albeit a little psychotically, all while still crying- she had finally snapped, and Bada was terrified. The girl in front of her could easily be a danger to herself, and possibly others in the state she was in, but all the leader could think about was how there was probably no coming back from this. The younger of the two just closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them and nodding at Bada with a tight-lipped smile, taking a deep breath.

“Okay” y/n smiles painfully as tears continue to run down her face- she turns around, swings the door open, and slams it shut as she walks out. The silence that followed was broken only seconds later as Bada heard the sobs that were almost immediately released by the girl who had just left.

y/n hadn’t even noticed the rest of Bada’s team standing around the corner, as she walked in the other direction to head back to her own room. Once she was far enough away, Lusher led the group quietly into their space seeing their leader sat on the couch with her head in her hands.

“Hey…” she speaks quietly, and Bada looks up with an empty look in her eyes, but tries to hide it when she realizes her team is present. Before she can even try to pretend nothing happened, the sub-leader was speaking up again

“We heard everything…” Bada sighed and felt tears pricking her eyes, disappointment and heartbreak finally taking over as she realized how fucked up the things she said were. The younger members sat around their leader and rubbed her arm or leg while they all watched with sad eyes as she sobbed. This was going to be a rough next few days.

notes: i'm so sorry...

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