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fangisms · 1 year

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summertime at the burrow

A/N: i want to be an honorary weasley please im literally begging. notice me molly weasley

Pairings: Best Friend!Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fred finally invites his best friend home over summer holiday. Neither of you expected it to go so well. 3.7k words.

Warnings: fluff, best friends to lovers, ungodly amount of shenanigans, friendly bullying/teasing, mud wrestling, kissing, (friendly) violence, pet names (trouble, snookums, sugarplum, sweetheart), cursing, borderline frog abuse

"Good morning, trouble."

You hop into the seat next to him that he’d been saving for you. In fact, he’d been saving it for you since the first time you plopped down beside him after the sorting hat declared your house first year. You laughed when he shook your hand. He thought you had the cutest smile. Then you teased him for his devilish charm and he called you catty, and you’ve been teasing each other ever since.

"Are you packed and ready?” He sounds more worried than that time he nearly shattered his collar bone during a vicious Quidditch scrimmage. “We're leaving bright and early tomorrow. Mum says she's preparing a hearty lunch for our guests." Fred scarfs down the rest of his breakfast and turns to look at you to find you're looking back at him in bewilderment.

"Somebody's excited," you tease, ruffling his fiery locks and glancing over at George with a grin.

"If you think this is bad, you should see him before winter holidays," George huffs.

“I have.”

Fred rolls his eyes at you and you jab him in the side.

"Where are the lot of you off to?" Lee perks up from across the table, setting his plate down and wiggling his way between Alicia and Angelina.

"I finally got my honorary invite to the Weasley burrow this summer," you chirp, wrapping your arm over Fred's shoulders and leaning him into your side.

Lee cocks a brow and smirks at a suddenly and uncharacteristically shy Fred. "Well, it's about time! You've only been dating for—"

You shake your head. "No, not dating, Lee. I swear we've been over this—"

"Oh, we've been over it plenty. I just choose to ignore wicked witches when they lie—!"

You practically leap across the table with your teeth gritted to grab for his robes when you're stopped by the laughing twins holding you back from tearing into him. "Lee Jordan, you take that back right now, or so help me your mother will wonder why your hair's gone purple!"

"I'm not going to apologize for being lied to!"

"Let me at him! I'm trying to defend my honor here!"

"Miss—young lady!”—McGonagall appears behind you, sending you into shock and barreling back onto the bench—“Settle down! You're frightening the first years, and we typically prefer they come back in the fall."

"Apologies, professor, I was simply trying to have a friendly discussion with my classmate," you say, gesturing to Lee who smiles begrudgingly.

"Right, well, from now on, let's have our discussions from across the furniture, not on top of it." She wanders away, and you turn to stick your tongue out at Lee who is doubled-over and cackling at your being caught.

“I hope you know, we’re going to receive the same third-degree from my dear mother,” Fred mumbles in your ear. His heart races when you turn to him, a playful glint in your eye. You blink sweetly and rest your hand on his knee when he tucks his arm around your lower back. “But don’t worry, sugarplum, it’s never too late to try.”

He winks. Your eyes go wide, and you shove at his shoulder with a chuckle disguised by a scoff.

“Scabbers not the only rat in the Weasley family, I see.”

“That is exactly what I’m talking about, there’s no way you two are just friends—”

A slice of ham sticks to Lee’s cheek with a cold, wet slap as you eye him from across the table.

“Don’t listen to him, snookums, he just doesn’t understand our complicated arrangement,” Fred says, nudging your cheek with his nose and holding back laughter.

“Gross,” George mutters, grinning before he’s met with the same lunchmeat backhand his friend so rudely received. “Suppose I could’ve predicted that one.”

…

You wipe the sweat from your brow, slinging your carry-on over your shoulder before bending down to pick up your trunk. You’re trailing behind most of the rest of the group, just a few steps behind the twins while their younger siblings charge ahead through the field with Harry and Hermione. Fred checks in with you every couple of meters, making sure you don’t need any serious medical attention.

Once the twins breach the front door, you take a seat outside on your trunk, fanning yourself with your hand and throwing your head back. Then you hear:

“Fred, you better get out there and help that poor girl with her things!”

“Sorry, mum!”

You chuckle when he appears in the doorway moments later, winded as ever, hair plastered to his forehead, and still grinning wildly as he jogs over.

“What’s a lovely young lady like yourself doing outside all alone on such an unbearably hot afternoon?”

“Sweating like swine.”

“Ravishing,” he teases, shooing you off the suitcase, “head inside, mum’s absolutely itching to meet you.”

So you do. You can see her welcoming her children and their friends alike, and it fills you with the warmth of fresh gingerbread and the nerves of a teenage boy during school dance season.

“My dear!” she coos, arms outstretched even though a thin year of sweat coats every inch of your body, even though you’ve been wearing these clothes for a day, and even though you’re breathing heavy like a dog. She’s got her arms outstretched like you’re family.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Fred, and, goodness, you’re even prettier than he said you’d be!” —She gasps when he walks through the door, hauling your trunk in tow—“Don’t tell him I told you.”

“It’s been five minutes and you two are already sharing secrets about me. Only seven more days, Freddie,” he mumbles, setting the trunk down with a thud.

“Oh, well! It’s wonderful to finally meet you, dear, Ginny will show you to your room and lunch will be ready once you’re all settled!”

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley—”

“Oh, none of that, call me Molly.”

Your brows knit when she smiles at you so gently before making her way back to the kitchen.

“Thank you, Molly!”

Fred hops up from where he’d been relaxing on an armchair, clapping you on the arm with a reassuring smile.

“Everything processing alright up there?”

You nod.

“Peachy. Now give me a smile, you’re scaring me.”

You squint at him and pinch his arm, simpering when he hisses and swats your dry-gulching fingers away.

“That’ll do!”

“We’re up this way,” Ginny chirps as she rushes by and tugs you by the hand up the stairs.

Fred watches after you, rubbing his arm with a mean look on his face just before his playful resentment fades and his affections settle into the apples of his cheeks. This is going to be a long seven days.

…

Fred had never invited anyone to stay at the burrow. He preferred the company of his close family and whoever his mother deemed Weasley-enough herself. But he’d been saving this invitation. It stewed in the back of his mind for years before he mustered up the courage to offer it to you.

Ridiculous. That’s how it sounded in his head: ridiculous. If he wanted to ask you, he should have done it at the first chance. That’s what Fred would do. But he could never bring himself to get the words out whenever he swore to himself today would be the day. Because you’d just look at him with those damned doe eyes—you’d test his boundaries and make him all gushy inside—and it was like he was suddenly turned to a tongue-tied and pathetic halfwit.

And now here you are. An unofficial part of his family. But nevertheless a part of it. You’d found the annual Weasley strawberry-picking trip to be wonderful despite Fred pulling cheap pranks on you and the fact that it was basically sweltering outside. When you returned, you all spread out in the family room with bowls of the dewy berries in each of your laps. Everyone claimed a seat while you and Fred were forced to share the hardwood floor. You ended up tossing the small fruits into each other’s mouths with your legs laid across his thighs.

At one point, he lands one of the berries down your blouse. Almost immediately, he starts to laugh, clutching his chest while you gawk at him.

“You better start running, trouble.”

He gulps and scampers to his feet before scurrying out the front door. You take off after him, shouting curses into the wind when he rounds a corner.

You follow his footsteps but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“I swear, if I ever get my hands on you—”

He grabs your waist from behind you, dipping down to whisper in your ear. “You can put your hands on me whenever you’d like, sugarplum—”

“Merlin’s Beard, Fred! You scared the shit out of me!”

You jolt away, and he thinks you look genuinely angry this time. But he smiles and your features soften. Then you’re after him again, bounding into the tall grass with an uproar of laughter.

…

You spend the next few days of your vacation trying to beat Ron at chess then deciding it may be better if you and Harry team up to try and beat Ron at chess. You also take Ginny and Hermione shopping while the gaggle of boys trail behind the three of you grumbling and whining about missing their beloved Quidditch game.

You offer to help Molly with every meal, and she only accepts once you convince her your desserts are a crowd favorite back home. She’s proud to say she’s impressed, and she grows even prouder when you admit you adore big families like hers and see at least two kids of your own in your future.

Arthur takes a liking to you after you listen to him rave about the kind of items muggles use day-to-day and how fascinating their modern technology has become in recent years. He’s thrilled to find you actually take interest in his tinkering and collections and whatnot.

But most of all, you spend your time at the burrow with Fred. He steals you away after meals and keeps you up late to teach you his favorite charms. One overcurious evening finds you two perched together on the bathroom floor whispering and giggling while you brush a bold smokey-eye onto his eyelids. Let’s just say dinner that night was nothing short of hilarious: a look that Fred will never live down.

On the fifth morning, you jostle him awake. He whines about the sun not even being up yet while you drag him down the steps and shove your socked feet into an extra pair of rubber boots.

“What’s the bucket for?” he whispers, traipsing down the path along the side of the house when you stop dead in your tracks.

“Shh!” You press your gloved finger to his lips. A chorus of croaks erupts from the marsh beside the house. Nothing out of the ordinary for Fred, in fact that sound had often soothed him to sleep. But there’s a dangerous glint in your eye that tells him you’re on a mission.

“Can’t we do this when the sun is up? It’s cold and I’m tired—”

“The faster we catch ‘em, the faster we can go back to bed,” you whisper as your boot sinks into the edge of the muddy body of water. He sighs and sinks in next to you with his hands on his hips.

“I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to do this. You’re lucky you’re so pretty or you’d never get away with anything.”

You purse your lips and wade a little further out, looking out at the cooly rippling water beneath the sliver of sunrise.

“Yes, I would,” you say, quietly but so matter-of-fact he’s inclined to believe you.

Just then you spring into action, shoveling a small frog into your bucket with a victorious grunt. A few minutes later, he shuffled over to you and lowers his cupped palms into your bucket: three more frogs settle down into the center with a wet plop. You beam up at him, and it’s worth the early morning trouble to see you so happy and have you so close.

“So what do you plan on doing with these poor creatures once we’re done?”

You sit on the bank of the waterbed, sighing and setting the bucket beside you. He watches you from the water while you examine the small blob of darkness in the center of your palm. The bottom of the bucket is lined with croaking frogs, and the sun is well above the horizon, dousing the sky in soft pink and warm rose.

“I’m going to let them go.”

He lets out a sharp breath, hands falling to his sides, leaving streaks of mud down his tee shirt.

“You’re joking.”

You look up at him. You’re not joking.

“No,” he huffs. “You did not drag me out of my nice, warm bed to catch a million slimy frogs in the freezing cold dark just to let them go again.”

“Oh, but I did.” You’re crazy, he thinks. You’re crazy and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. Doesn’t make you any less crazy, though it might make him much less sane.

You set the frog down in the grass and leave the bucket tipped over. The small creatures immediately flood out from the splotchy tin opening into the newborn daylight and the crisp morning air. You stand and wipe your hands against each other a few times, scrunching your nose and finally meeting his eyes again.

“What’s wrong, trouble? Cat got your tongue?”

You grin.

“You know, one of these days, I’m going to say ‘no’ to you, and it’ll be a rude awakening.”

Fred walks past you like he’s really mad. Like it was an uncrossable line and you treated it like the tape at the end of a marathon. He’s hulking back towards the house when you grab his wrist to get his attention.

“What?”

But you don’t look sad. You don’t look pitiful or hurt. You look like you’re scheming, and it drives him crazy. As if he could ever say ‘no’ to you.

“You think I’m pretty,” you coo, batting your lashes just to get on his nerves. His breath hitches, and he feels warm despite the nipping cold of the morning.

“Unrelated.”

You drop his hand and cross your arms over your chest with a pout. He continues leisurely toward the burrow, tossing his gloves to the ground with a huff of hot air.

“Fred?” you call. And you sound worried, so he’s compelled to whip around. But when he does, he’s met with a rude awakening.

It was a misstep. A silly mistake, the wrong footing. Easily avoidable, and yet he didn’t avoid it. So he’s ass-first into a mud puddle with you shrieking in laughter about a meter away.

“You’re awful,” he grumbles, both hands propping him up and seeping into the thick mud as seconds tick by.

“I’m sorry! Freddie, I’m so sorry,” you cackle, taking a few steps toward him with tears of joy in your eyes. “But you should have seen your face!”

“Help me up,” he says, shaking his head and wiping his hand down his pajama pants before holding it outstretched to you. You grab it and tug enough to leverage him out of the muck. But he doesn’t budge. And in that moment, your eyes are filled with fear. Then, with one jolt, you topple down into the mud right beside him.

“Fred!”

“An eye for an eye, sugarplum.”

You push yourself up onto your hands to find your entire front is caked in mud, the mess narrowly avoiding your chin and above.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“Oh, bring it on,” Fred teases.

You smirk just before a handful of mud is smeared across his chest by your slippery glove.

“Your move, trouble.”

He shakes his head and chuckles, looking down at the abstract art work fondly. But not quite fondly enough to hold himself back. His fingers dig into the puddle determinedly just before patting the top of your head with it like a stray dog. You squint your eyes closed and groan before peeking one eye open and coating his cheek in mud.

You make it to your feet and Fred hurls a ball of mud at your ass but he misses and it lands in the grass in front of you. You bolt around the back of the house, but he hurls a hunk towards your shoulder blade. You yelp and shout at him:

“You’re supposed to be a gentleman!”

“I’ll show you a gentleman, sweetheart,” he hollers it just before he catches up to you. You squeal and nearly slip on a slick patch of grass, but before you can leap out of his reach, he grabs your upper arm and presses you against the tree just behind your back.

“That’s not playing fair, Freddie, I’ve got nowhere to run,” you say, breathlessly grasping at the edge of his shirt with a tired smile. He chuckles and plants one palm against the bark beside your head, bringing the other hand to cup the side of your neck.

“You don’t need to run anywhere,” he mumbles, “just stay here.” The dried mud on the pad of his thumb draws a swipe of dirt down your cheek. Your fingers curl around his wrist and your lips part sweetly when he leans in.

“Time to come inside, you two! Breakfast is ready!”

Your eyes go wide when he leans his forehead against the tree with a grumbled curse.

“I suppose I am quite peckish!” you chirp, dragging him along behind you all the way to the front door. You leave your boots and gloves outside and brush some of the dried dirt from your pajamas.

You sit across from him at breakfast and catch him stealing glances at you every so often. With a mouth full of food, you wink at him with a dirt-smeared face and almost make him spit out his juice when you kick him under the table. George teases the two of you about wrestling in the mud while Molly scolds Fred about tracking it into the house.

…

Before long, you’re facing the final night of your stay. You’d been dreading the end since the beginning, and now that it’s here, you’re heartbroken. It’s been nothing but fun and you’ve never felt so wonderfully vulnerable with so many people around.

But the thing you’ll miss most is Fred. He could sense you pulling away the last couple of days. Trying to shield yourself from the impact of reality. No matter how hard he tried to cheer you up, he knew nothing could stop you thinking about how much packing up and leaving would hurt.

With your things splayed out across the floor of your temporary room, you had started packing hours ago but kept finding ways to distract yourself and avoid the idea of leaving altogether.

“Need any help?” Fred knocks on the doorframe, leaned against it and wearing the blue jumper you once told him he looked best in. You smile up at him from the floor.

“No,” you huff, “but some company would be nice.”

He perks up and shuffles around your belongings to plant himself on the edge of the bed. You had made the bed up nicely, tucked the duvet and set the pillows out nicely. He told you you didn’t have to, but you did it anyways.

After a few minutes of folding and refolding the same shirt, you stand from the floor and join him on the bed. He’s leaned back onto his elbows when he nudges your foot with his. You nudge him back but don’t turn to look at him. So he sits up and bumps you with his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you,” he says, fussing with the edge of your shorts to distract himself, “Being here, I mean. As a part of our family.”

You smile down at his fiddling fingertips and inch closer, looking at him with this half-sad, half-happy look that has him confused and hopeless and head over heels and confused.

“I had a really, really nice time,” you whisper, leaning your head onto his shoulder and letting your eyes drift closed.

“So…”

You chuckle and smile to yourself, “So…?”

You sit up when the floor rattles a little, a thudding coming from the room below you. Then George shouts.

“Get it over with already!”

You both look at each other and giggle. Fred leans back again and you watch him tilt his head back and let out a sigh. His chest rises and falls beneath that damned blue sweater, and you trace your fingertips over his knuckles. He lifts his head and smiles cheekily at you, like he knows what’s going on inside your head. Like he has any idea. And for once, you think he might be pretty close.

You practically tackle him to the bed, smiling against his mouth when he cradles your face in one hand and rests the other on your waist where your shirt had ridden up from the ruckus.

You pepper soft kisses over his blushing face, leaving faintly glossy lip prints on his cheeks and nose and forehead and a stray one on the column of his neck. He goes slack against the bed, satisfied and content and happy all because of you. But still, he lazily opens his eyes and grins mischievously and says:

“Took you long enough.”

You smack your hand against his chest just hard enough to warn him.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Weasley.”

He cups your hand against his warm chest and his smile ebbs from mischief to something not as easily recognized. Something that makes him shy and pink thanks to the girl who likes the freckles across the bridge of his nose in the summer and his hands even when they’re covered in mud. Love that makes him much less sane for the girl who might just be crazy for loving him back.

And all of it makes him hold your hand and lean up to kiss you one more time.

masterlist

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fluff #fluff #fanfic #hp universe #hp fandom #fred weasley x fem!reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x gryffindor!reader #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers

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inuyashaluver · 7 months

Note

can you do one where Leah and reader had an argument and they are sort of into each other until reader gets injured and then just some fluffy fluff please xx

just as bad as each other - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your best friend are just as bad as each other, from your stubbornness, all the way to your infatuation for one another

warnings: swearing, mentions of arguing and injury

a/n: i eat this shit up! thank you for the request, love, please enjoy! ❤️ i won’t lie, i hate this a bit but i’m forcing myself to post it

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your best friend, leah were very much oblivious to the fact that you both loved each other. moving up through the ranks in england and arsenal together had you closer than ever for the majority of your lives.

you both knew each other better than yourselves, coming as a great shock to anyone that the two of you haven’t professed your love to each other.

you and leah got on like twin flames, soulmates even. you had the same values, passions, aspirations, music, the whole works, and unfortunately for anyone that knew the both of you, you were both extremely stubborn, just as bad as each other.

you moved in together a while ago, one of the only reasons your families let you play football in london together at such a young age all those years back. the time together only strengthening the affection you had for one another.

—

instances of both of you being stubborn weren’t exactly hard to miss, almost an everyday occurrence for the both of you.

one day, you had a little cold and leah picked up on it before you even started to show obvious symptoms.

it all started with a little sniffle before leah began to nag you to sit down and recover but you refused.

“(y/n) (y/l/n)” leah starts as you walk into the kitchen fully dressed in your training kit, “I really hope you’re joking” leah crosses her arms over her chest as you grab a protein shake from the fridge.

“what’s there to joke about, leah williamson?” you mock, sniffing a little before standing on the other side of the kitchen counter to look at her.

“go back to bed, now” she says sternly, her eyes narrowing at the cheeky glint in your eyes.

“why ever would I need to go back to bed?” you smile, attempting really hard not to cough.

“because you’re sick?” leah says simply, standing up from her seat and walking around to stand in front of you.

“I am not sick!” you exclaim, a little cough managing to escape the back of your throat from the volume. leah has an accomplished smile on her face when she hears it, raising her eyebrow teasingly as she looks down at you.

“you sure about that?” leah grins, you nod, pinching her cheek and running off back to your room to grab your bag before she could yell at you again.

throughout the entire car ride, leah nagged you about your stubbornness, threatening to get you benched for a while or even sending you back home to your family until you were better. you ignored her of course, insisting you were fine and feeling better than ever.

though, when you got to training, your condition seemingly got worse and leah shook her head when she saw you coughing and sneezing.

“how’d you let her come here?” beth coos to leah, rubbing her hand on your back as you lay on the floor of the gym, red nosed with a pounding headache.

“she’s not sick, huh, love?” leah places a hand on your back, to stand your ground, you sit up suddenly and look at leah with a glare.

“yeah, beth, i’m not sick, just allergies” you defend, swatting both pairs of hands away and moving towards katie on the treadmill. and of course, you were in a weakened state and managed to run for two minutes before you had to get off, lying back on the floor with an exhausted sigh.

“not sick, my ass” leah mutters under her breath, immediately walking over to you and kneeling down to look at you better.

“i’m fine” you breathe out, “you’re sick, i’m taking you home” leah asserts, grabbing your hand to pull you up but you refused. “leah, no!” you groan, attempting to loosen the grip of her hand but she wouldn’t relent, she huffs out a frustrated sigh.

“get up, please” leah tries to pull you up off the floor again and you throw her an icy glare, she can see your younger self shine through you at moments like this, you never change, it was honestly amusing.

“leah, i’m. not. sick.” you break down the words, “i’m not stupid” leah says simply, “i’m not getting up, leah” you taunt, the team snickers around you, both of you only used first names when in trouble or when you were truly angry with each other.

“you are so fucking stubborn, (y/n)” leah shakes her head, closing her eyes for a moment before hoisting you up in her arms.

you immediately protest, trying to wiggle out of her grasp but quickly stopping at the look she gave you, rolling your eyes and pouting as she carried you to the car.

“now you sit here while i get your stuff” leah warns, face softening a little at your sad nod before she closed the door.

“i’m taking her home” leah announces to the gym, gaining a few cheeky grins and teasing noises from the team.

“you two are made for each other” lia smiles brightly with beth, leah’s cheeks go a little pink before she looks down, waving them off before sprinting to the change room.

she quickly gathered both of your belongings and ran out to the car, looking over at you every couple of seconds while you looked out the window, little sniffles not being hidden anymore after your little dispute.

when you reached home, leah pushes you down to rest on the couch, making you take your medicine before she goes to get you something to eat. you look like a kicked puppy and it made leah’s heart break a little, maybe she was being too hard on you.

she comes back 20 minutes later with soup because you both knew you were the cook out of the two of you, when she got back, you pulled her into a hug.

her eyes widen a little in surprise, hugging you back without any hesitation, her hands rubbing soothingly over your back as you cuddled into her.

“i’m sorry, lee” you mumble against her shoulder, leah smiles a little, “it’s okay, love, i’m sorry too” you hug her for a little longer before sitting down in front of her. she smiles softly at you, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear before placing her hand on your thigh.

your cheeks turn rosy as you look up at her, leah’s breath hitched in the back of her throat for a moment when she saw how you were looking at her. “sleep” leah clears her throat, letting you rest your head on her thigh before you promptly dozed off.

—

in contrast to that stubbornness, you both truly had so much love for each other. it was painfully obvious that you saw each other as more than a friend.

when leah returned to the england team after her acl recovery, you were both extremely excited. it was always your dream to play together in england and finally getting that back after so long was something to treasure for the both of you.

after a particular match, leah was being interviewed by alex scott on the side of the pitch and you just couldn’t resist teasing her.

“ahh! leah williamson!” you scream like an excited fan girl, alex laughs immediately at how red leah got, pinching her nose bridge as you walked up next to her, laughing at how embarrassed she was.

“here we have ms (y/l/n) in the flesh after a fantastic performance” alex grins cheekily at you, you sling an arm around leah’s waist and on instinct hers goes around your shoulder.

“no no, i’m just leah williamson’s number one fan who managed to get on the pitch after I dodged security” you laugh at leah’s little glare she sent you, alex laughs at the two of you, knowing how at least one of you felt about the other, she didn’t miss leah’s pink cheeks.

alex turns the interview on you and leah watches you intently, her eyes focusing on you the entire time you spoke, a soft smile evident on her face.

leah gets asked a question but didn’t answer, focused on you and missing it completely, you bump leah’s hip with your own and she scrambles to answer, you giggle as alex teases her for being distracted.

you get called over by alessia and ella and before you leave, you throw alex a wink, “can I nominate her as player of the match?” you say cheekily, leah rolls her eyes and shoves you away gently, “okay, bye” leah laughs, you blow her an exaggerated air kiss and she grins, watching you walk away before getting back to the interview.

the moment got edited and reposted on almost every social media platform and you had to admit that you rewatched it a couple of times just to see the way leah was looking at you with all the love in the world.

—

though, unfortunately for you, what resulted in you and leah’s relationship fast tracking was you being injured and a massive argument between the two of you.

it was during a match for arsenal, the defence was all over you trying to rile you up and it was working. you were getting angry, tackling and running in ways that leah wincing.

she always scolded you to be careful during matches, after her own acl injury, her worst fear was you getting one as well.

thankfully, you went down with a hamstring injury, leah running to you immediately when you fell to the ground.

“love” she breathes out, you look up at leah tearfully, “hamstring” you wince, leah lets out a little sigh of relief, holding your hand tightly as you waited for the medics.

“i’ll be with you as quick as I can” leah kisses the top of your head before you got carried off to the physio room and the match ended shortly after.

leah sprinted to where you were as soon as it was over, pushing the door open with a scowl.

“what were you thinking?” leah looks at you sternly, you immediately sigh, making yourself as small as possible, you knew you’d get scolded.

“(y/n) that was so stupid, you’re being reckless giving into them like that, you’re giving them what they want” leah scolds, you nod along with her words, her words were bitter but you know they were just concerned but you were extremely pumped up on adrenaline.

“they were fucking targeting me, leah! what do you want me to do?” you exclaim, her eyes widen a little at your volume, you two rarely fought.

“I want you to stop being stupid and risking an injury like that!” leah spits out, you throw your head back in frustration, “leah, they fucking targeted me and then you don’t expect me to retaliate?” you try to reason but she’s not having it.

she stands directly in front of you, you sit on the bench as she looks down at you with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I know they targeted you!” leah starts, “you’re better than them and they can’t handle it, but just because you’re frustrated doesn’t mean you can get sloppy!” she argues,

“what would’ve happened if it was more serious? huh? you’re fucking lucky it wasn’t your acl, (y/n), I swear to god, why are you being so stubborn about this?” she grits out,

“okay, but it wasn’t, leah, it’s my stupid hamstring!” you yell, pointing at your leg, “i’m fucking sitting here injured and you’re going off at me, you’re the stubborn one!” you say in disbelief, leah’s eyes widen, she attempts to speak but you interrupt her.

“I get it, i’m stupid and reckless! I don’t know why you care so much!” you roll your eyes, “I care because I fucking love you!” leah exclaims, both of you look at each other in shock.

your hearts were beating so fast, you swore you could hear the other’s out loud. beat. beat. beat. “what?” you utter, she covers her face with her hands for a moment before looking at you.

“I love you” she swallows, “more than anyone” she says shakily, you look up at her tearfully, she can’t believe this is the way she’s confessing to you. “I love you, lee, more than anyone” you parrot, she shakes her head with a gentle smile.

“you know how much I care about you, yeah?” leah says softly, moving to sit next to you, “yeah, you just yelled it to me” you say cheekily, leah chuckles, “sorry” she smiles, grabbing one of your hands and holding it tightly. “me too” you grin, scooting forward a little so you were closer to her.

her eyes take in your appearance before falling to your injured leg, bandaged, iced and breaking her heart, she frowns as she looks at it. you follow her gaze and lift a hand up to her chin to direct her eyes to yours again, “i’m fine, i promise” you say earnestly, leah nods, pulling you into a little hug.

when she pulls away, her eyes flicker to your lips and you grin at her cheekily, “kiss me better, williamson?” you cock your head to the side and she chuckles, nodding as she ghosts her lips over yours, “sure, baby” she whispers, pulling you into a sweet kiss that had you feeling dizzy.

—

when you and leah finally started dating, you wanted to keep it quiet for a little bit but leah williamson doesn’t do quiet.

you were found out by accident when leah couldn’t keep her hands off you in the change room before training, discovered by a screaming beth while leah kissed you passionately as you were perched up on her lap.

“no way!” beth exclaims, you hide your face in leah’s neck and she laughs as beth runs out of the room to tell everyone what she saw, “I told you this would happen but you’re too stubborn” you grumble,

“nah, baby, no one’s coming” you mock leah’s voice “you lied to me!” you laugh, she scoffs, pinching your hip warningly as you ramble about how annoying everyone was going to be now.

“oh, my poor baby” leah coos mockingly, giggling before kissing you gently as you sulked, “it’s not funny” you whine, your own smile playing at the corner of your lips.

“it is a bit” leah grins, kissing you on the lips again while you fight your smile, trying to be stern with her, failing when she kisses you again and you melt into it.

it lasted for a couple of seconds until the entire team bursts into the room, a couple of your england teammates on facetime with some other teammates to tell them the news.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - just pretend it’s you!! ily veen ❤️

liked by bethmead_ and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: the kid’s alright 😉

view all comments

yourname: you’re alright 😉

↳ leahwilliamsonn: baby girl!

bethmead_: you both disgust me

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i’ll make sure to make out with my pretty girl in front of you xx

↳ yourname: i’m down

↳ leahwilliamsonn: me + you in beth’s cubby?

↳ bethmead_: oh god please no

↳ vivannemiedema: leave them beth

↳ yourname: hah!

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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hometoursandotherstuff · 28 days

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This 2002 house in Greenwich, CT looks like a funky modern farmhouse, but I like it. The interior looks retro. It has 5bds, 8ba, priced at $4.57M.

It's very artsy and looks mid-century modern. It's also very colorful.

This is some living room- look at the high ceiling and all the cut-outs in the walls and the ceiling.

They've got a small area where you can store wine.

Here's a family room area and dining room. Look at the storage.

This is the TV area.

That is some huge sideboard. You can put a whole smorgasbord on there. Not the shape of the attached table.

The cabinetry in the kitchen definitely looks retro.

There's a separate every day dining area with a built-in bench seat.

Looking up at the stairs.

This bedroom has an interesting built-in bed by the window and a head board with night stands attached to the wall. Note the colors of the bed legs and the orange-upholstered Eames chair.

This house is so skillfully designed and built to look retro.

This room has the same layout, but with twin beds.

The en-suite. This is nice.

The principal bedroom has a few steps down and is large enough for a sitting area. It also has a built-in bed.

Check out the fireplace.

The en-suite is huge. Double sinks are metal bowls, there's a big glass shower, round tub, and mosaic tiles.

Look at the cute rooftop deck.

Back downstairs they have serious-looking laundry room.

This is beautiful, it's an open bar, but I'm wondering if it's open or if it's glass. CT is a New England state and gets a snowy winter. I lived there for 7 yrs.

Outdoor kitchen.

Beautiful pool with a separate Jacuzzi.

One acre lot.

#modern architecture #artsy homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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livingforthehopeofitalll · 11 months

Text

Invisible Girl- Pt. 1 🫥

Coriolanus Snow x Reader

*Follows movie adaptation*

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Y/N Ravinstill's world was one of opulence and deceit. Born into the prestigious Ravinstill family, she was overshadowed by her twin brother Felix, whose incompetence was forgiven due to his gender.

One evening, Y/N's mother scolded her for reading a political article. "Leave those matters to your brother, Y/N. A woman's concerns are different."

"Felix, you should learn something from your sister," President Ravinstill would jest, not realizing the injustice in his words.

Y/N sat in her room, browsing over ancient texts. Felix barged in, a condescending smirk on his face. "Still pretending you're as capable as me, little sister? No amount of reading can change the fact that you're just a woman."

Y/N, accustomed to such belittlement, held her composure. "Perhaps, Felix, you mistake arrogance for capability."

There was a rare combination of beauty and intellect that Y/N possessed and it went unnoticed by her family. The Ravinstills upheld a tradition of favoring males, her potential was dismissed, and achievements ignored. Her only escape was the Academy, where her last name granted her popularity, yet the disdain lingered even there.

———————————————————-

Y/N's escape was the Academy, a place where her family name granted her popularity. But popularity came at a price. Arachne, fueled by jealousy, made Y/N's life unbearable and she endured the hate with a grace that only fueled Arachne's bitterness.

Sejanus, the rebellious soul, recognized Y/N's struggles. He became her friend, a companion in the silent rebellion against the Capitol's prejudices. Coriolanus, the ambitious but conflicted boy from the fallen Snow dynasty, observed Y/N from a distance, his curiosity growing into something more.

"She's different, Sejanus. She sees beyond the surface. It's... intriguing," Coriolanus admitted, his eyes following Y/N's graceful movements.

-——————————————————— It was a chilly afternoon at the Academy, and the courtyard was deserted, except for Coriolanus, who sat alone at a weathered bench, picking at his leftover lunch. His eyes were distant, lost in the tumultuous thoughts that often haunted him. Unbeknownst to him, Y/N observed from a distance her heart was stirred by an unspoken compassion.

Approaching cautiously, Y/N cleared her throat, "Coriolanus, is this seat taken?"

He looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Oh, um, no. You can sit."

Wordlessly, she placed a small bundle on the table—a set of clothes that once belonged to Felix but were discarded without a second thought. "I thought you might need these. My brother doesn't appreciate good things."

Coriolanus, unused to such kindness, stammered, "I... thanks, Y/N. But why?"

She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "Because we're more than the labels they put on us, remember? If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

Coriolanus, taken aback by this unexpected gesture, blushed, his usual guarded demeanor momentarily shattered. "I... sure, thanks."

From that day forward, an unspoken understanding formed between them. Y/N's act of kindness became a bridge, allowing them to traverse the gap that societal expectations had created.

-———————————————————

As weeks passed, Coriolanus found himself seeking Y/N's company more often. Their interactions evolved from awkward exchanges to genuine conversations, laughter, and shared secrets. The walls he had carefully built around himself began to crumble.

One afternoon, Y/N caught Coriolanus stealing glances at her during a lecture. "What's on your mind, Coryo?" she teased.

He looked away, feigning nonchalance. "Nothing, just... thinking."

Y/N's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Thinking about what, exactly?"

Coriolanus, unable to hide his smile, admitted, "Maybe about someone who's changed my perspective on a lot of things."

———————————————————

The Academy's grand hall buzzed with the energy of students preparing for the day's classes. Y/N, usually composed, entered the room, unaware that Arachne, fueled by jealousy, had plotted a public humiliation.

As Y/N took her seat, whispers circulated through the room. Arachne, with a venomous smile, stood up and called out, "Attention, everyone! I have a little game to play. Let's see if Y/N, with all her supposed intelligence, can handle a real challenge."

Sejanus and Coriolanus exchanged uneasy glances as the class turned its attention to Y/N. The atmosphere thickened with anticipation.

Arachne approached Y/N's desk, brandishing a sheet of paper. "I found this abandoned in the library. Looks like someone's secret poetry." She grinned maliciously.

Y/N, caught off guard, felt her face flush with embarrassment. The room fell silent as Arachne began to read aloud, her tone dripping with mockery.

"Roses are red, violets are blue, In the shadows, Y/N's secrets are true. A girl who thinks she's smart and wise, But in reality, it's all just lies."

Felix, seated nearby, erupted into laughter, relishing the moment. The cruel jest reverberated through the room, and Y/Ns friends, Sejanus and Coriolanus, exchanged glares with Arachne.

Sejanus, unable to tolerate the humiliation, spoke out, "Arachne, enough! This is petty and unnecessary."

Coriolanus, torn between his loyalty to Y/N and the desire to fit into the Capitol's expectations, remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Undeterred, Arachne continued, "Oh, Sejanus, you always were the bleeding heart. Can't you see? Y/N's just like the rest of us—full of flaws and secrets."

Y/N, gathering her composure, met Arachne's gaze. "I'm shocked you are so interested in me, Crane. Perhaps you should focus on all of your flaws instead of creating drama."

The retort, though defiant, only fueled Arachne's anger. As the class continued, whispers persisted, but Y/N, resilient, turned her attention to the lesson at hand. Little did Arachne know, the attempted humiliation only strengthened Y/N's resolve to defy the expectations placed upon her by the Capitol, and the ember of resistance within her burned brighter than ever.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #tbosas fic

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dracosbabygirl8 · 9 months

Text

TWIN

Theodore Nott x reader!Matteo Riddle’s twin sister - PART 2

Summary : in which Theodore Nott develops a forbidden crush on his twin sister's best friend in three situations (inspired by this tiktok)

Warning : toxic siblings relationship, mention of alcool and smoke (lmk if i missed any)

n/a : it's my very first writing, and I'm soooo nervous to post it!! and i also questioned myself if i had to provide a better ending. i just love the suspens and the tension in this one, but if you wanted more details about what private place you go, just let me know, and i’ll add it in the second part (yeah, it's already in the works). hope you enjoy

As Mattheo Riddle's twin sister, navigating daily life isn't a walk in the park. While he can be an incredible brother, showering you with everything you desire and providing unwavering comfort in times of distress, his overprotective nature poses a challenge. No one dares to approach you as he harbors a deep distrust, particularly towards men.

You're in the slytherin common room, casually hanging out with Pansy, Enzo and Blaise when Theo, Matteo, and Draco join you after their weekly quidditch training.

As soon as Matteo enters, he lightly taps your shoulder, which is touching Enzo's shoulder due to the smallness of the sofa you're seated on « hey more space, shawty » he remarks. You chuckle and roll your eyes, finding him quite ridiculous, but you oblige, shifting forward to avoid bothering your brother, who seems to be in a delighted mood, likely due to their quidditch win against ravenclaw.

Draco wanted to teases him a bit « let her breathe mate, she needs to experiment yk, have a boyfriend, etc » he says while lighting a cigarette. « Oh, i had a boyfriend once » you share with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Blaise jumps in with curiosity « and... how did it end? ».

You turn your head, your eyes narrowing as you fix a deep, playful stare on Matteo, your tongue rolling on your cheeks « and…he broke his jaw ». Laughter ripples through everyone, and amidst the chuckles, you catch a faint « that was predictable » from Theo, who observing the dynamic between you and your twin brother, shoots you an amused look, recognizing the subtle nuances in your expressions. Undeterred, you retort « yeah, but we were 11... » casting a mischievous glance at Matteo, who now sports a proud, devilish smile, you add « poor Craig... » in a hushed whisper, you shake your head in a sorry way before erupting into laughter with the others.

•••

You take place in the Great Hall patiently awaiting Matteo’s return from detention, you focus on a parchment resting on your lap. Meanwhile, Theo enter the Great Hall either, he see you, lonely sitting, while reading your parchment. Pretty as always, distinguished as always, like you were out from a fairytale.

He approach you confidently. You feel his intense gaze, accompanied by the wisps of smoke from his cigarette. « may i join? » you just replies with a light « sure » he take place next to you, dangerously close. « What are you doing here? » he attempts to start a conversation « uh- just waiting for Mattie to get out of detention. I had to give him my notes from potions before his quidditch training, n’you? » you answer. « Waiting for him to go to quidditch training » he replies, smiling lightly. « Is it your notes? » he points to your parchment, and you nod. He moves a bit closer, your knees now touching. « You’ve beautiful handwriting » he says while leaning, his words dancing tantalizingly close to your cheeks, the warmth of his breath and the alluring blend of his cologne and cigarette teasing your senses, sending shivers down your spine.

You turn your head towards Theo, faces remarkably close, and you find yourself lost in his deep green eyes. However, as you spot Matteo descending the stairs in the background, you swiftly step back on the bench in a heartbeat, creating a more formal distance between you and Theo.

« What are you two doing here? » Matteo inquires, reaching an eyebrow as he approches. « We were just waiting for you. I wanted to give you this since you overslept this morning, it's the notes from the potion class that you missed » you explain while handing him your parchment, Matteo expresses his gratitude by offering a light embrace and kissing your forehead.

« Here we go, mate, we'll be late for the match, i have to change » he says to Theo, already hurrying off and heads towards the stairs.

Before following him, Theo stands up and suggests « yk i think we should go out together sometime » looking down on you. Lifting your face towards him, you internally question if you heard him correctly « no- i mean, i don’t date my brother friend’s- sorry » you respond with a light smile, wondering if it might be a stupid test orchestrated by Matteo. « Oh that’s suck- i guess i should have kicked his ass then » he replies with a smirk on his face, stubbing out his cigarette and abruptly start to walk, leaving you alone with your heart racing dangerously fast.

•••

Pansy informs you that Draco will be hosting a party in the slytherin common room tonight. Despite being aware that it will undoubtedly irk your dear brother, you are determined to attend the party. You begin preparing yourself, opting for a subtle makeup look, donning earrings, and choosing a dress that strikes a balance between not being too provocative yet clearly not formal, for the occasion.

As you walk through the corridor, the booming music and lively cheers signal that the party is in full swing already. You're well aware that your brother — likely already drunk or high, or both — is somewhere amidst the revelry. A slight unease settles in; you know how unpredictable he can be, especially if he's not in the mood or if someone approaches too closely. Despite this, you muster a resolve, telling yourself « no- not tonight »trying to convince yourself and boost your confidence, you repeat silently « i’m an adult, capable of making my own decisions ».

As you make your entrance, you subtly scan the crowded room to locate your brother, intending to steer clear of him as much as possible, « the magic trick is to avoid eye contact » Pansy says with a chuckle, guiding you to move in the opposite direction of Matteo and his friends — who are, incidentally, your friends as well — are seated.

As you approach the table to grab a drink in a green goblet, the sensation of numerous eyes on you is palpable. Engaging in conversation with fellow girls students, you gradually find your way to the dance floor, feeling a bit tipsy. Joining Pansy, fully immersed in the beat, you begin to sway your hips to the rhythm, surrounded by other drunk students from various houses. You’re suddenly yanked by the wrist, and a familiar voice demands, « what tf are you doing here? » you sigh; facing this situation was inevitable, knowing he would spot you eventually. « Well, i was just yearning for a generous dose of infantilization from my dear twin brother, so naturally, i found the prime spot for it. Thrilled to see you here too » you retort, rolling your eyes. He doesn't bother responding, guiding you towards the group seated on the couch. He turns to face you, raising an eyebrow, poised to question you once again, « just here to enjoy the party, same as you » you reply after a sigh « stop treating me like a fucking child, can you ? » you add. He settles into a seat, commanding « fine, stay next to me then. I didn't like the way they all dance around you » with a resigned sigh, you lower yourself onto the sofa, a tinge of disappointment lingering. Positioned between Matteo and Theo, you observe Draco, Blaise, and Enzo engrossed in a spirited debate on who is the sexier girl at this party while sipping on their whiskies.

« What a way to enjoy a party » you whisper between your teeth, arms crossed. Theo ear you and chuckles, « want to try it? » he hands you a blunt. Smoking is nothing new to you, and he knows that. You indulge in cigarettes daily and experiment with weed during parties surprisingly receiving Matteo's approval. You accept, take the blunt and muttering a quick « thank you » to him. As you savor the hits from the loaded blunt, the smoke lingering in the air, you immerse yourself in a conversation with Theodore.

Despite finding him very attractive, you haven't talked with him much, especially one-on-one. Unsure if it's because he doesn't like you (or quite the opposite) or if you lack the courage to talk with your brother's best mate, whom you've secretly fancied for so long.

The conversation delves into things and other, drifting effortlessly from one subject to another, punctuated by shared laughter at his jokes and reciprocal smiles. Suddenly, he says « uh- you’ve got a bit of lipstick—just right here », he point out the corner of your mouth. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks, and as you reach to wipe it off, he leans in, his thumb brushing the side of your mouth, « and there you go » he says, offering a smile. You feels your ear and your cheeks burn from his move and his smile. You smile him back. Unbeknownst to you, the entire scene unfolds before Matteo, who abruptly crashes onto the sofa between you two, declaring, « fine, enough conversation » while death staring at Theo.

A sigh escapes you, it's incredible how your brother manages to disrupt everything. Irritation seeps in as you become increasingly bored. Rising from the sofa, you announce « i’m a bit sleepy, guys, i'll head back to my dorm, g’night ». They wish you a restful sleep, and as you stand up, Matteo asks, « do you need me to accompany you until your door? » secretly hoping Theo would offer, you respond, « no, it's okay, i’ll find my way, don't worry ». Taking your time to bid farewell to friends, you discreetly search for Pansy to tell her about your quick interaction with Theo. When you can’t find her you leave the room in direction of your dorm.

During this time, Theo replays every moment of your conversation in his mind—the brightness of your laughter at his silly remarks, the way your hair cascades perfectly over your face, and the sensation of your warm skin against his fingertips. Lost in these thoughts, he stands up abruptly, stating, « uh- i’ll grab a pack of cigarettes from my dorm » and departs without waiting for the group’s reaction.

As he exits the common room, instead of heading to his dorm, he veers towards yours, hoping to run into you in the corridor. « Already heading to bed? » you inquire upon recognizing Theodore's silhouette in the darkness « uh- yeah, not really. Actually, I was searching for a pack of cigarettes in my dorm » he answers a bit surprised. « Isn't your dorm in the opposite direction? » you respond, a hint of doubt in your voice « hm yeah, you get a point. Tbh, i was searching for you » he admits with an embarrassed smile while scratching the back of his head, in the dimly lit corridor, you look at him a bit confused, he step forward and confesses « i guess we didn’t finish our conversation earlier ».

Seated on the corridor floor, you share deep conversations and cigarettes together. During a comfortable silence, Theo inquires « isn't it annoying to have Matteo as a brother? » while staring at the wall in front of you. « Oh, definitely! He's nice and all, but he tend to put a damper on my freedom. There are plenty of things that i want to do, but he doesn't allow me... » you share, exhaling a puff of smoke, « and if he stopped preventing you from everything, what's the first thing you'd do? » Theo locks eyes with you, his gaze intense and unwavering. You lock eyes with him, torn between sharing the genuine answer or letting it linger unspoken. As the alcohol and weed take hold, you consider whether to reveal the truth. Summoning by a burst of courage, you smirk lightly and say « this... » before crashing your lips onto his. Your arms wrap around his neck, he kisses you back instantly, placing his hand on your waist and deepening the kiss. Seconds pass in this intoxicating embrace before you separate to catch your breath.

« Are we waiting here for your brother, or should we find a more private place? » he inquire with a husky voice and a smirk on his face, the lingering warmth of the kiss still palpable.

masterlist

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theodorenmyth · 2 months

Note

Enzo and mattheo sharing a lover who’s socially awkward

Two Suns, One Moon

Pairings ; Mattheo Riddle x GN!Reader x Lorenzo Berkshire

Summary ; Being the quiet, socially awkward lover of the ever-energetic Lorenzo Berkshire and the mischievous Mattheo Riddle often leaves you feeling like a shadow beside two suns. But a peaceful afternoon by the Black Lake reminds you that even the moon has a vital role to play in balancing the brightness of their world. What starts as a tranquil moment turns playful when a splash of water ignites a lighthearted battle, bringing the three of you closer together, reminding you that you belong exactly where you are—right between them.

A/N ; literally two orange cats, one black cat, two suns, one moon, two energetics and 1 calm trope. I LOVE THIS

warnings); none

Word count ; 1.7k+

The Hogwarts courtyard was alive with the usual bustle of students, but you found yourself seeking the comfort of the quieter corners. You sat on the edge of a stone bench, the cold seeped through your robes, but it didn’t bother you. It was familiar, grounding, a stark contrast to the overwhelming energy that usually surrounded you.

“Hey, love,” a warm voice called out, snapping you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Lorenzo Berkshire approaching with that ever-present smile of his, like sunshine breaking through the clouds.

Beside him, Mattheo Riddle walked with his usual confident stride, his gaze already locked on you, dark eyes brimming with mischief.

“Found our little black cat, have we?” Mattheo teased, slipping onto the bench beside you, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body. Lorenzo chuckled as he took the spot on your other side, sandwiching you between them.

You swallowed, feeling a little self-conscious, as usual. They were so effortless in their presence, like twin suns, burning bright and drawing everyone into their orbit.

You, on the other hand, felt more like a shadow, fading into the background as soon as they appeared.

“Are you cold?” Lorenzo asked, noticing how tightly you had your arms wrapped around yourself.

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, looking down at your hands, twisting your fingers nervously. Mattheo gently tugged on your sleeve, drawing your attention back to him.

“Liar,” he said, though his tone was affectionate. “You’re freezing. Why didn’t you wait inside?”

“I didn’t want to be in the way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Crowds always made you feel like you were on display, and being around people as lively as Lorenzo and Mattheo only amplified that feeling.

“Nonsense,” Lorenzo said, his arm coming around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “You’re never in the way, darling. We’d much rather have you with us than hiding out here alone.”

Mattheo nodded in agreement, his hand finding yours, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. “Besides, we’ve missed you. It feels like we haven’t seen you all day.”

“I saw you both in Potions,” you reminded them, a small smile tugging at your lips despite your nerves.

“Yes, but that doesn’t count,” Lorenzo insisted. “You were all the way on the other side of the room. Far too far away for my liking.”

Mattheo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We were thinking of staging a little incident, you know? Maybe a small explosion to get Professor Snape to rearrange the seating.”

“Mattheo,” you gasped, eyes wide with alarm. But you knew he was only half-joking. “You’d really risk detention just to sit closer?”

“In a heartbeat,” Mattheo said, his smile wicked. “It’s boring without you to talk to.”

“And to copy notes from,” Lorenzo added with a playful nudge.

You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension in your chest. It was hard to stay anxious around them, even if they were as different from you as night and day.

“So,” Lorenzo said, changing the subject with that natural ease of his, “what do you want to do today? We’ve got a few hours before dinner.”

“Whatever you two want is fine,” you said quickly, not wanting to impose your own ideas. You were always afraid of making the wrong suggestion, of boring them with your quieter tastes.

Mattheo raised an eyebrow at you. “You say that, but last time we let Lorenzo decide, we ended up trying to sneak into the Restricted Section. And when it was my turn, we spent an hour trying to scale the Astronomy Tower.”

“You were the one who suggested the Astronomy Tower,” Lorenzo pointed out with a grin. “And I seem to remember you enjoying the Restricted Section.”

“Well, I did manage to find that book on hexes I’ve been wanting,” Mattheo admitted, looking pleased with himself.

You shifted, feeling a bit out of place. The truth was, you were just as happy spending time with them doing something simple. You didn’t need the excitement they seemed to crave. But saying that out loud felt.. wrong, somehow. Like you’d be dampening their spirits.

Noticing your hesitation, Lorenzo’s expression softened. “We don’t have to do anything wild, you know. Just say the word, and we’ll go along with whatever you want.”

Mattheo nodded, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “Yeah, we’re not trying to drag you into trouble. Well, not always.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at their words, the reassurance soothing your anxieties. “Maybe we could just…go for a walk? By the lake?”

Lorenzo smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That sounds perfect.”

Mattheo stood, tugging you up with him. “Lead the way, love.”

As the three of you wandered down towards the Black Lake, you couldn’t help but marvel at how effortlessly they made you feel included, even when you felt so different from them. Where they were all fiery energy and boldness, you were quiet and reserved, more comfortable observing from the sidelines than being in the thick of things.

But somehow, they never made you feel like you didn’t belong. They accepted your awkwardness, your silences, and your tendency to withdraw when the world got too loud. They didn’t try to change you or push you out of your comfort zone, unless it was clear you wanted that.

Lorenzo kept up a light conversation as you walked, talking about everything and nothing, his voice a soothing backdrop to the crunch of leaves underfoot. Mattheo, on the other hand, stayed close, his presence a steady comfort beside you.

He’d occasionally point out something interesting, a particularly twisted tree root, a group of birds taking flight, and you’d find yourself relaxing, enjoying the moment without the usual pressure to keep up with them.

When you reached the shore of the lake, the three of you settled on a patch of grass, the sun dipping low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the water. You sat between them, feeling like the calm center in their whirlwind of energy.

“This is nice,” you murmured, the tension finally melting from your shoulders. “Thank you.”

Lorenzo leaned back on his elbows, tilting his head to look at you with a warm smile. “You don’t have to thank us. We’re just happy to be with you.”

Mattheo nodded in agreement, his hand finding yours again, fingers intertwining. “Yeah, we’re a team, remember? Two suns and one moon.”

You blinked, looking at him in surprise. “What?”

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “That’s us. Lorenzo and I, we’re the suns. Bright, warm, maybe a little overwhelming at times. And you, you’re the moon. Quiet, steady, a little mysterious. But we all work together, right? Balance each other out.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the metaphor wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You’d always felt like you were on the outside looking in, but Mattheo’s words made you realize that, to them, you were just as important a part of their little world.

“I like that,” you said softly, feeling a little bolder, a little more at ease. “The moon is pretty powerful, you know. Controls the tides and everything.”

“Exactly,” Lorenzo said, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “Don’t underestimate yourself, love.”

Mattheo chuckled, leaning in to kiss your other cheek. “We certainly don’t.”

A peaceful silence settled over the three of you as you watched the sun's reflection ripple across the lake. The quiet moment was short-lived, however, as Mattheo suddenly leaned over, scooping up a handful of water and flicking it in your direction.

The cold droplets splashed across your face, making you gasp in surprise. “Mattheo!” you exclaimed, wiping at your cheeks with the sleeve of your robe.

Mattheo grinned, looking unapologetic. “What? You looked like you were getting too comfortable.”

Lorenzo laughed, watching the exchange with a gleam in his eye. “Careful, Mattheo. I think you’ve just declared war.”

You narrowed your eyes at Mattheo, a mischievous spark igniting in your chest. “You’re going to regret that, Riddle.”

“Oh, I’m trembling,” Mattheo said, mock fear in his voice, though he was already inching away from you, sensing your impending retaliation.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, you quickly dipped your hand into the water, flinging a larger splash back at him. The water hit him square in the chest, soaking the front of his robes.

“Merlin’s beard, that’s cold!” Mattheo shouted, but he was laughing even as he wiped the water off his face.

Lorenzo couldn’t resist joining in, his hands cupping water and sending it flying in both your and Mattheo’s directions. “It’s every person for themselves now!” he declared, his laughter contagious.

Soon, the three of you were engaged in a full-blown splash fight, water flying everywhere as you all tried to outmaneuver each other. Mattheo, not one to be outdone, managed to catch you off guard with a particularly well-aimed splash, sending a wave of water over your head.

“Okay, okay! Truce!” you called out, laughing so hard your sides hurt. You held up your hands in surrender, trying to catch your breath.

Lorenzo was grinning from ear to ear, water dripping from his hair. “Do you accept, Mattheo?”

Mattheo eyed you both warily, as if expecting another sneak attack, but finally relented, lowering his hands. “Fine. Truce. For now.”

You smiled, shaking your head as you sat back down on the grass, the cool breeze drying the water on your face. Despite the chaos, you felt lighter, the earlier tension completely washed away.

Lorenzo stretched out beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you close. Mattheo joined in, lying on your other side, his hand finding yours again.

“See?” Lorenzo murmured, his voice soft as he nuzzled into your hair. “Sometimes, all you need is a little water fight to clear your head.”

Mattheo hummed in agreement, his fingers tracing patterns on your palm. “And a reminder that we’re all in this together. Two suns and one moon, right?”

You smiled, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun as you relaxed between them. For the first time in a long while, you felt completely at ease, content in the knowledge that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

“Yeah,” you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the peacefulness of the moment wash over you. “Two suns and one moon.”

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

Note

Could you write a continuation to ride it where they meet for the first time after that incident at a family party and he teases her the whole time until they fuck in her childhood bedroom 😳

I love your writing 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

oooh boy, here we go :)

What a Ride

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

warnings | 18+ smut, and nothing but, lil bit of angst, mostly just filth tho

a/n | this can totally be read as a standalone, but it does follow the events of Ride It and Let's Take a Ride, if you are so inclined to read along :)

.................

He’s doing it on purpose. He has to be. The way his knee keeps brushing against hers under the table is one thing, but the little glances over the rim of his wine glass tells her that this is anything but accidental.

It’s her dad’s fiftieth birthday party, and all she can think about is the way Joel Miller has been looking at her, the same way he looked at her that night when she got a little more of a ride than she bargained for when she called him to pick her up.

There’s enough people around, all gathered on the back porch for dinner, that no one would ever notice the stolen looks and lingering touches. A palm pressed to her low back as he slips by, a seemingly friendly squeeze to her shoulders from behind, the brush of his chest against her back as he reaches around her for another drink.

She hadn’t seen him since that night on the side of the road, and when she opened the door to him earlier this evening, the grin he gave her told her more than words ever could.

Now, sitting at the picnic bench in her dad’s backyard with Joel sat right next to her, she’s not sure how much more of his teasing she can take. The candles have been blown out, the cake has been cut, and he’s getting bolder by the minute, leaning closer into her side until the heat radiating off him starts to make her sweat more than the quickly-fading summer sun. She does her best to make small talk with her dad’s coworkers, keeping her eyes angled away from Joel who seems to be doing the same, even as his hand comes to splay over her thigh, fingers curling and resting right at the softness where her legs are crossed under the table. His thumb sweeps, back and forth, back and forth, over her skin, and she’s not sure how he’s doing that at the same time he’s easily talking to someone else about lumber. She, on the other hand, is starting to feel dizzy with the continuous motion, swallowing harshly around a bite of cake.

“You got a little something there, honey.” Before she knows what’s happening, Joel is turning to her and swiping his thumb along the curve of her bottom lip, stray icing smearing on the pad of his finger as he sucks it into his own mouth, eyes not leaving hers for even a moment. Her eyes widen, darting around. She’s only slightly relieved when it seems like no one else was paying attention to Joel’s antics. A low hum resounds from his chest, and that coupled with the lewd pop of his thumb leaving his mouth is enough to send her jerking out of her seat, his hand falling away from her thigh, as she hurries back inside. She doesn’t let herself take a full breath until she’s in her old childhood bedroom, slumping back against the door once it’s shut behind her.

It had been easy, not letting guilt creep in for what she and Joel had done, so long as she was away from her dad at school. But being home this weekend, she’s not sure how to reconcile the creeping shame with the undeniable desire she feels for a man who should be off limits. It had been torturous being in the same space, her dad swinging a proud arm around her shoulders and gushing to Joel about how well she was doing in her classes, all while Joel smiled brightly nodding along politely to her dad’s praises while all she could do was imagine the scrunch of his eyebrows when he bounced her on his– she stops her mind from going there again, blowing out a long exhale as she walks further into her room and splays out on the twin bed. She only stays in this room when she comes to visit now, for holidays and family events, and it’s been left exactly as it was when she was a senior in high school. It’s like a time capsule of four years ago, concert posters, polaroid pictures of her old friends, and entirely too much pink and purple.

She takes another deep breath, feeling the rise and fall of it where her hands are clasped over her stomach, trying to cool down the lingering heat from Joel’s touch. She reasons with herself that if she can just stay in her room for the rest of the night, and away from Joel, she’ll be fine. She’ll just tell her dad in the morning that she wasn’t feeling well, no big deal. But that plan goes out the window when the door to her bedroom opens.

“Thought I’d find you up here. You good?” She huffs, propping herself up on her elbows to look at Joel as he closes the door behind him.

“No, actually. I’m not good. What– what was that out there? You can’t just do stuff like that.” Joel crosses his arms over his chest, biceps swelling under the thin sleeves of his t-shirt, and she knows that he knows exactly what he’s doing, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“What, you didn’t like it?” She has a hard time getting the word no out, instead settling for a hard shake of her head and what she hopes is a stern expression. Joel just laughs.

“You sure about that, honey? That answer wasn’t very convincing.” He shuffles a little further into the room, his eyes trailing up and down her still splayed out body.

“I shouldn’t like it. And you shouldn’t either.” He steps closer to the edge of her bed, right between her legs that are draped over the side. His smile is all smarm, crooked and knowing, as he rests a knee on the bed between her legs, broad palms pressing into the plush of the mattress to frame her face. She feels all-consumed by the warmth of him as he hovers over her, her mind only going more hazy when he tilts his head to the side, the pink of his tongue darting out as he wets his lips.

“You just say the word, and I’ll back off. But I don’t think either of us really want that, do we?” He dips his head down, his nose brushing hers, lips hovering so close she can feel the ghost of his scruff on her skin. The low thrum of his voice nearly jolts her out of her skin when he speaks again.

“Words, honey. You gotta tell me what you want.” She lets out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, eyes darting everywhere but to his intense stare.

“I– I mean– won’t someone notice that we’re both gone?” As if on cue, the faint sound of the back door opening and conversation floods into the house, her head jerking toward the door to her room. Joel, however, is quick to demand her attention, bringing a hand to her jaw, calloused palm tilting her face back to him and giving her no option but to look into his darkened eyes.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me, honey. Don’t worry about them. What do you want?” She’s only a little embarrassed by the whimper that rattles through her throat at his rasped question, the smug grin he gets all the indication she needs that he heard it. It’s all just a little too much, the solid heat of him hovering over her, his scent - cedar and sweat - invading her senses, and those big, brown eyes of his all but melting her further into the mattress.

“I– I want you, Joel. Please–” She doesn’t even get to finish her plea when his lips smear against hers, swallowing her gasp and licking into her mouth. He crowds her until she slips off her elbows, splaying back on the mattress as he kneels between her spread legs. Joel kisses like he’s trying to make a point, keeping a firm hand along her jaw as his tongue slips against hers. He’s quite the sight when he does pull away, lips swollen and glistening, his pupils blown wide as he looks down at her.

“Been thinking about you, honey. How sweet you were for me. You been thinking about me too?”

“Fuck, yes. I–” She stops herself with a sigh when he ducks his head down, laying open-mouthed kisses to the arc of her neck, teeth nipping in all the right places.

“Keep talking, honey. Tell me what you thought about.” His words thrum low against her skin where his lips are dragging, eliciting another broken whimper from her.

“I thought about your hands– how big they are.” He murmurs an mmhmm into her sternum, nosing at the neckline of her tank top before leaning back and letting his palms spread across her waist. His eyes flicker up to hers as he fingers the hem of her shirt, and all it takes is her light nod for him to tug the fabric up and off of her, groaning when he realizes that she isn’t wearing a bra.

“Tell me more, honey. What else did you think about?” She goes to speak again, but gasps when Joel’s mouth lands hot and wet over one of her nipples, his tongue laving over the peak.

“Thought about your mouth– fuck.” He releases her breast with a lewd pop, but not before letting his teeth graze over the skin, sucking harshly and making her preen up into his hold. When he pulls away, he rests his chin between her breasts, grinning from ear to ear.

“My mouth, huh? Anything else, sweet girl?” Yeah, she thinks to herself, and I can feel it pressing against my thigh right now.

“Your– your cock. Thought about you filling me up– how good it felt. How big it felt.” Joel lets out a gruff curse at her words, his hips jerking against hers where he’s slotted between her thighs, the solid heat of him prominent beneath his jeans.

“Fuck, honey– got a mouth on you, huh? You learn how to talk like that at school?” She bites her lip, trying to simmer down a grin at his question as she trails her hands down his front, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. Joel is quick to take the hint, batting her hands away and sitting back to yank his shirt off by the collar. Her eyes widen as he kneels between her legs. She didn’t get him like this before, bare-chested, and now she wants him like this forever.

“Not as pretty as your college boys, I reckon.” She’s snapped out of her ogling by his huffed words, noticing his downcast look and– is he blushing? She quickly pushes herself up onto her knees, mirroring him as she takes his face in her hands.

“No, you’re way prettier.” He chuckles, shaking his head at her, but she means it. His broad, sun-worn chest, the soft little pudge of his belly still wrapped in obvious strength. He’s perfect, and she intends to show him. She shoves lightly at his chest, coaxing him to stand up from the bed as her hands get to work on his belt buckle. His pants undone, she stands from the bed only to kneel in front of him, taking his jeans and boxers down along with her.

His cock is perfect, another part of him that she didn’t get a good look at in the dim light of her driver’s seat the first time, the flushed tip the same pretty pink color as the flush spreading across his chest. She lets her nails scratch lightly over the tops of his thighs, looking up at him through her lashes. His lips are parted, eyes heavy and hazy as he looks down at her, bringing one of his thumbs to swipe along her bottom lip. The groan he lets out breaks in his throat when she sucks the pad of his finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it.

“Goddamn, honey. Look like heaven and hell all wrapped up in one pretty package.” She releases his thumb with a little pop, smiling up at him.

“Can I show you what else I thought about, Mr. Miller?” That gets a breathy laugh out of him.

“Go on then, honey. Take it. S’all yours.” He takes a sharp inhale when she swipes her thumb over his swollen tip, smearing the dribbling pre-cum down the length of him and letting herself get used to his thickness as she dips her head to lap at his slit, the salt of him immediately invading her senses.

It’s not like she hasn’t done this before, just that she’s never done it with someone who’s got a decade and change more experience than she does, and she can’t help the nerves skittering up her spine as she takes him into her mouth. But the long sigh he lets out does a whole lot to boost her confidence.

“Fuck, honey– perfect little mouth, huh? Think you can take all of me?” The ache in her jaw tells her one thing, but the little grunts he lets out the deeper she takes him coaxes her on until drool is pooling in the corners of her lips and she’s gagging lightly as the tip of his cock brushes the back of her throat.

“Christ– look at you– so good for me, honey, that’s it.” He starts to guide her with a firm grip in her hair, each filthy praise going straight to her core, her thighs getting slick underneath her cut-offs. She just can’t help herself, her hand that isn’t cupping his balls slipping down to unbutton her shorts, fingers deftly sweeping through her folds to smear wetness over her clit, drawing sloppy circles that have her moaning around Joel’s cock.

“Shit, shit– filthy little thing, aren’t you? Does this turn you on, pretty? Sucking my cock like a little slut?” She hums her confirmation around his twitching length, making him let out another gruff curse. He doesn’t let her continue for much longer though, tugging harshly at her hair to get her to pull off him before hauling her up by her arms, a whine leaving her lips at the sudden move.

“Sorry, honey– gotta be quick and I need to be inside you, right fucking now.” With that, he spins her around, pressing between her shoulder blades until her front is laying across her bed, cheek smushed into her comforter. His hands are rough and quick to yank her shorts and panties down, and he groans at the sight of her dripping cunt.

“All this for me, honey?” She hisses when he swipes his fingers through her folds, swirling around her entrance before dipping inside.

“Fuck, yes– all for you, Joel– please–” He shushes her, one hand kneading the curve of her ass while the other lines his throbbing tip up with her entrance.

“Gotta be quiet, sweet girl. Don’t whine, I’ll give you what you need.” She has to bury her face in her mattress to silence the moan that rattles through her chest as he presses his hips forward, her knuckles whitening around her fisted grip on her sheets when he bottoms out. She hears the ragged sigh Joel lets out, followed by the feeling of the warmth of his chest as he hovers over her, pressing a surprisingly sweet kiss between her shoulder blades.

“I know it’s a stretch for you, honey. You tell me when I can move.” How he manages to be both smug and considerate at the same time is beyond her, especially when all she can focus on is the way his swollen tip is grazing a spot inside her that’s making her toes curl.

“I’m good– s’good– you can move.” He presses one more kiss to her back, the heat of him withdrawing as his hands splay over the plush of her hips, rolling away before snapping back into her with so much force that she’s jerked further across her bed. He wasn’t kidding about having to be quick, the pace he sets desperate and brutal.

“Fuck yeah– better than I remember, honey– so good– my good girl.” All she can do is whimper into the sheets, the little sounds mixing with the slick slap of skin and Joel’s breathy pants. With a deep grind inside her, he suddenly snakes a hand under her, palming her breast before hauling her up against him, the sheer strength of the move making her clench around him.

“You gonna come for me, honey? Make a fucking mess? C’mon– fuck, lemme have it.” His other hand presses firm over her pelvis, fingers dipping down to swirl over her clit and she breathes in a hard gasp to keep herself from crying out at the stinging pleasure threatening to snap inside her.

That’s it, honey.

S’just too good, huh? Them college boys just ain’t cutting it?

So cute like this. Nothing in that pretty head of yours, is there? Too full to think, right?

His words are a hot, thick smear against her temple, his pace never faltering as he ruts into her, his hips smacking against the swell of her ass with each thrust. Her high hits her hard, a silent cry of his name on her lips as she spasms in his hold, her cunt fluttering around his throbbing cock. Joel is quick to follow, his hips stuttering before pressing as close to her ass as possible, warmth blooming in her core as he sighs out her name in her ear.

“Jesus, fuck– making me feel young again, honey.” She barely registers his breathy words, her ears ringing as she slumps back in his arms. He shushes her whine when he pulls out of her, gently laying her back on her bed and pressing a kiss to her chin with a murmur that he’ll be right back. She lays, languid and spent, slowly catching her breath as she starts to feel his spend trickling out of her, the heady feeling making her shiver. But Joel is back in a flash, his boxers and jeans pulled back up around his hips, though left unbuckled. He kneels down alongside her, cleaning her up as gently as he can with a damp washcloth which she furrows her brow at. He chuckles.

“Known your old man long enough to know where the bathroom is.” She huffs, still a little too fucked out to protest against the mention of her dad. Satisfied with his work, he sets the washcloth aside, cupping her cheek in his broad palm to tilt her head over for an entirely too sweet kiss.

“Want me to tell him you’re not feeling good so you don’t have to come back down?” She sighs, shaking her head in his hold.

“No, that’ll just make him more suspicious. I’ll be down in a second– just need to– regain feeling in my legs.” That makes him grin, stealing another kiss from her before he gets up with a groan, shuffling around as he searches for his t-shirt. She props herself up on her elbows, noticing his shirt near where her foot is dangling off the side of the bed.

“Looking for this?” He stops his searching, looking up at her. His jaw goes slack at the sight of her dangling his t-shirt over her foot, leg outstretched.

“Gonna send me to an early grave, jesus.” His palm slides along the slope of her calf, ducking down to press a kiss to her shin as he grabs his shirt. Quickly yanking it on, he sends her one more grin as he moves toward the door of her room.

“See you down there, honey.”

“Until next time, Mr. Miller.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller au #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou

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captain-hawks · 11 months

Text

STRESS RELIEF

♡ — atsumu miya x f!reader

Atsumu may be a legendary setter, but he’s also an incredibly sore loser. And all other forms of post-game slump stress relief pale in comparison to a particular one he shares with you.

18+ ONLY

wc — 2.4k

prompt — lactation kink

additional content — established relationship, fingering, squirting, coming in pants, coming untouched, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, cockwarming, questionable refractory periods, multiple orgasms, cum eating, insatiable Atsumu, Miya twin bickering, timeskip!Atsumu

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

“Is there a reason ya always call me to babysit after losin’ a game?”

Atsumu can hear the exasperation in his brother’s voice on the other end of the line, dulled slightly by the hum of customers chattering away in the background. He ignores Osamu’s question, shifting slightly from where he’s seated on the bench in the locker room as he tugs at his sweat-soaked MSBY jersey, pulling the material free from its damp grip on his chest.

“Some godfather you are,” he snarks back, offering Bokuto a wave as he slaps him on the back while walking past him on his way to the showers. “And how’d ya know we lost anyway, ain’t ya at work?”

Osamu snorts, “Had the game on in the office while I was working on the books. You played like shit.”

“Bite me,” Atsumu huffs, running a hand through his haphazard blonde locks.

“I’m leavin’ the restaurant in about an hour.”

“I’m droppin’ her off in forty-five.”

“Take a goddamn shower first, ya pig. I can smell you from here.”

“Fuck you, Samu.”

He can practically hear the middle finger that his brother proffers to the phone as Osamu laughs, hanging up on him. Atsumu trudges to the showers to wash away the grime from the court—and hopefully some of his sour mood in the process.

—

In the years that you’ve been together, Atsumu has always been a sore loser when it comes to his favorite sport, even more so once he went pro. He cycles through different ways of working through his disappointment with himself after tough games, ranging from forcing himself to run miles on end until he’s nearly throwing up when he regretfully calls you to come and pick him up halfway across town, to dragging Osamu out for impromptu boxing sessions (“Ya tryin’ to make yer face even more ugly?!”), to binge eating ice cream on the couch (until he’s then also throwing up).

Sex, of course, is also one of his favorite (and least self-destructive) options, though his frustration-fuelled stamina is enough to leave you both fucked out beyond belief.

However, following the birth of your daughter just over a year ago, Atsumu found…a new form of stress relief.

One where he’d prefer to have no interruptions.

Hence the recruitment of Uncle Osamu, who probably just thinks his pouty, needy brother forces him into babysitting duties to have loud, raunchy sex with his wife all night.

Not quite.

—

“You’re worse than our daughter,” you fondly groan at Atsumu when he immediately starts tugging off your jacket the moment you step in your front door after swinging by Osamu’s house, his impatient energy coming off of him in waves.

Atsumu’s sound of protest dies in his throat when he spins back around from hanging it up to watch you slip off your shoes, his pupils expanding from eager to lust-blown the moment his gaze falls on the two wet spots already soaking through the thin material of your sundress.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his lips slotting tenderly against yours as he pushes you up against the wall, one hand coming up to cup your tender breasts.

His tongue dances along the seam of your lips, and you part them, sighing into your husband’s mouth as he deepens the kiss. You card your fingers through his still-damp hair, keening at the feeling of his thumb teasing your peaked nipples through the fabric. The arousal simmering in your gut sparks, pleasure seeping through your nerves with each deft sweep of his hands along your skin as he effortlessly unhooks your bra, tosses it to the ground, and pulls down the straps of your dress.

“Can’t even wait till we get to the bedroom?” You ask teasingly.

“Nope,” he replies, though the sound is muffled from where his mouth is now latched on to one of your engorged, leaking tits.

Atsumu has never been one for patience.

You haven’t pumped all day, and the soothing feeling of Atsumu needily lapping at your tender nipples, milk flowing into his mouth, has you whimpering in relief. Knees going weak with a flush of arousal, you start to slide to the floor, and Atsumu follows suit, his warm body slotted between your spread legs as he continues to drink from you.

The house is quiet save for the wet, sucking sounds of Atsumu’s mouth slurping at your swollen tits, punctuated at intervals by his groans—the vibration of which makes you shiver—and the breathy, keening noises falling from your own lips.

You reach down, carding your fingers through his hair, running them from his messy, blonde strands to the soft, dark brown undercut beneath. He sucks harder, letting his teeth graze a pert nipple in the way he knows makes your toes curl, and you gasp, arching into his touch as you give his hair a rough tug in return.

Atsumu moans, and you do it again, tipping his head back enough to take in the dazed look in his eyes, milk coating his lips and dripping down his chin. Suddenly, you become very aware of the way your arousal-soaked panties are clinging wetly to your folds, sticky and plastered against your eager, aching cunt.

A knowing smirk teases its way across his full lips, and Atsumu snakes a hand up the skirt of your dress, running a finger down your slit. Separated from his deft touch by both your stockings and underwear, he teases you by pushing his fingertip firmly against the nylon and cotton where your fluttering entrance is. The material gives just enough, breaching your hole and scraping wetly against the tight walls of your cunt, and you whine, bucking into his touch as you plead for more.

You can feel another spurt of milk dribbling from one of your tits, and Atsumu dips his head back down to catch it, tongue tracing a broad stroke from your belly to your nipple as he laps it all up. And just when he latches back on to milk you further, you hear a ripping sound as he tears a hole in your stockings, one large enough to slip his hand into. He then uses his thumb to pull your panties aside, swiftly plunging two fingers right into your damp pussy knuckle deep.

“Atsumu,” you pant out, bucking up into him, the slick squelch of him finger fucking you warring with the sounds of his wet mouth fervently sucking on your breasts.

He groans your name, drinking deeply from one tit as he massages and squeezes the other, pulling away for a moment to let milk squirt and spray against his lips. The feeling building inside of you burns its way down your throat and into the pit of your abdomen, your tightly coiled composure beginning to unfurl amid a slick, exhilarating thrum of pleasure.

Feeling the way the muscles in your thighs have clenched, he swipes his thumb over your clit, stroking circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves as he firmly curls his fingers inside of you. The tidal wave of pleasure bursts, clear liquid spraying from your cunt as you come hard.

Atsumu’s own steady sucking grows sloppy as he moans loudly when he feels you squirt all over him, smearing spit and milk across the swell of your tits. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he pauses in his ministrations for a moment to suck off the creamy results of your orgasm before returning to the streams of milk leaking down your chest.

“Haaaaaah, oh f-fuck,” he groans as his entire body tenses and then goes entirely limp, arms wrapped loosely around your waist as he presses his forehead against your breasts, breathing hard.

“Did you come in your pants again?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

He nods, voice slightly muffled against your skin, “Ya know what you squirting does ta me.”

Playing with his hair, you smile, “Good thing we have all night.”

And Atsumu makes the most of it, both of you stumbling into the bedroom in your post-orgasmic bliss and collapsing against the mattress, slowly taking turns peeling off one another’s clothes until you’re both naked, his cum-soaked boxers left forgotten on the floor.

The thrum of anxiety and frustration from the game still lingers, and you know Atsumu hasn’t had his fill yet.

If this didn’t turn the both of you on so much, you know he’d otherwise latch on for hours on end without stopping once for air, suckling every last drop of milk from your swollen tits till the sun begins peeking over the horizon. And it’s not that you don’t spend hours with him lapping up your milk on nights like this, it’s just also always littered with copious amounts of orgasms, his normal refractory period taking a backseat to whatever milk-fuelled stamina keeps cum pumping from his cock far more times than either of you could ever hope to count.

An hour later, you’re on your back, legs spread as Atsumu drags his tongue up your slit, lapping up a glob of his cum that’s leaking out of you. He leans in to kiss you, his filthy mouth slotting against yours tenderly, and you can feel as more cum from his last two climaxes drips out of you and onto the sheets below.

He’s left your tits untouched for a bit, mouth otherwise occupied swallowing down your moans as he fucked you deep and slow. Milk dribbles down your body, and you arch your body up into his where he hovers over you, grabbing one of his hands and dragging it through the wet, sticky mess.

“Here I thought I was the needy one,” he quips, a boyish grin on his face.

You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t act like you’re done.”

“Not even close.”

This time, when his hot lips latch onto your tits, there’s nothing slow or gentle about it. He’s greedy in the way he sucks and slurps, palming at your breasts and groping your ass and squeezing your thighs. Need courses through you as you wrap your legs around his waist, both of you moaning in unison as his thick cock sinks into your cunt again.

The sound of him fucking his cum back inside of you is filthy, and you revel in it, nails digging into his shoulders and the heel of your foot pressing into his lower back as you urge him to go deeper.

He bites and sucks at the sensitive skin of your breasts, the mattress creaking loudly beneath you as he begins to roughly fuck you into it, cum leaking onto his balls and dripping down your ass. Your chest heaves as pleasure snaps through you like a whip, drunk on the combined feeling of the downright feral way Atsumu’s drinking your milk and the relentless way he’s pounding into your tight cunt.

When you come this time, it’s with a shout, vision going white as your pussy clenches down on his shaft. His orgasm follows in kind, Atsumu sucking on your nipple like his life depends on it while his cock pulses within the grip of your slick walls, once again filling you to the brim with another load of hot cum.

Atsumu collapses on top of you afterward, both of your bodies limp with exhaustion, though not enough to stop him from keeping his mouth latched to one of your tits, idly sucking away.

—

You don’t realize that the two of you fell asleep, not until you rouse to the soft morning light coming through your bedroom window and a round of knocks coming from your front door. When you go to shift, you find Atsumu’s head pillowed on chest, still unconsciously sucking on one of your nipples, even in his sleep. You roll your eyes fondly, stroking his hair.

Atsumu hums, stirring slightly. Softened cock still lodged inside of you, he rolls his hips, and you moan softly at the combined pleasure from the feeling of him sliding through the copious amounts of cum he filled you with and the hypersensitivity of being touched when you’re still half asleep. His eyes open slightly, and he gives you a tired little smile as he groans, mouth falling open as he rocks into you again.

His cock is quick to react, the feeling of his thick shaft hardening inside of the tight squeeze of your cunt leaving you breathless.

There’s another series of knocks at the front door, followed by the buzz of a text message on his phone.

Atsumu presses a kiss to your nipple before dragging his lips up the column of your throat, mouth capturing yours.

Another knock.

He pulls out and thrusts back into you deeply, languidly, cock dragging against your cum-soaked walls with ease.

Your phone buzzes.

Lazy, gentle kisses follow.

His phone begins to ring.

Atsumu reaches out in the direction of the nightstand, shoving his phone to the floor and ignoring everything but the way you keen and writhe beneath him as he fucks you through one more wet, tired, blissful orgasm.

—

Osamu, fully dressed in his Onigiri Miya uniform, looks like he’s weighing the pros and cons of fratricide when Atsumu finally opens the front door in a robe, his hands and a brush no match for what an all-night marathon of sex and sucking on your tits has done to his hair.

“I have a staff meetin’ in an hour, ya horny bastard,” he growls when he walks in, the malice a direct contrast to the way he then proceeds to coo over his sleeping niece when he sets her down in her carrier.

“We slept in,” Atsumu says casually, though his air of nonchalance is thrown off by the way Osamu unceremoniously shoves the diaper bag into his arms.

“Yer a shit liar.”

Exiting the bathroom looking far more put together than your husband, you place a finger to your lips as you gesture to your child, who’s somehow conked out despite their raised voices.

Osamu offers you an apologetic look, though he shoots his brother another glare when you make your way into the kitchen.

“Thanks again, Samu. Want something for breakfast before you head to work?” you ask him.

Atsumu pours himself a glass of orange juice in the meantime.

“Toast would be great.”

“Thought ya were in a rush,” Atsumu snarks before rolling his eyes and taking a large sip from his cup.

Rifling through the fridge, you brandish a hand in the direction of the myriad of beverages on the shelf. “Drink?”

“Milk’s fine.”

Atsumu chokes.

— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu smut #dee writes

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classicmemorialbenches · 1 year

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Is oak wood good for outdoor benches?

Oak wood is an excellent choice for crafting enduring and sturdy outdoor furniture. It possesses remarkable strength and durability, which makes it an ideal timber for creating timeless pieces. As oak ages, it develops a stunning silver-grey patina that is highly desirable to many people.

Oak wood can be a good option for outdoor benches, as it is a strong and durable hardwood that can withstand weather and outdoor conditions. Additionally, regular maintenance, such as cleaning and resealing, may be necessary to maintain the appearance and longevity of the bench.

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nataliasquote · 8 months

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Double the trouble | a day out | n romanoff

Part of the ‘Double the trouble AU’

Summary: a day trip with 2 3-year-olds is a lot to handle…

Age: 3 years old

Warnings: none

Pairings: WandaNat

wc: 2.9k

note: this was a request from anon (my first request!) so I hope I did it justice

- ⧗ -

Isla was always the loudest twin. She had all her firsts before her sister; word, steps, you name it, she beat Y/n to it. Which often left the younger girl feeling behind and unworthy, born to only follow in the shadows of her twin sister.

Natasha and Wanda tried their hardest to treat their girls equally, but with Y/n’s reluctance to try anything new and Isla’s strong temperament, they had a difficult situation on their hands.

Being three years old meant days were filled with trips to the park and fun days out for the whole family. Isla had been begging to go to the zoo, the colourful picture books she begged Wanda to read every night cementing her love for animals. Y/n nodded when asked if she wanted to go too. But what was she supposed to say? She did everything Isla did.

But the zoo wasn’t her thing. Whilst her older sister toddled around and pointed animatedly at all the different animals, Y/n stayed beside the stroller, her tiny hands fiddling with the fabric seat as she stared at the concrete pavement. Natasha tried her hardest to involve her, often picking her up so she could see over the fences and pointing to the monkeys who were chasing each other around the enclosure. But the little girl was having none of it, her fist wrapped around the strap of her mama’s tank top.

“What’s the matter maylshka?” Natasha asked, holding Y/n tight to her body as she lead them both over to a nearby bench. “I thought you loved the zoo?”

The small girl shook her head, flaming hair falling loose from its braids. “Isla like zoo. Not me.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed as she looked at her daughter. “But you said you wanted to go?”

Y/n gave her mother a glare. A very familiar one at that. “No. Isla said go. Not me.”

Natasha shifted so her daughter was now sat on her knee. She gently moved a stray piece of hair from her forehead and kissed it gently, rubbing the soft cotton of her t-shirt. “I’m sorry malyshka. I thought you wanted to go too.”

“It’s ok Mama,” Y/n said, placing her cool palms on her mother’s warm cheeks. Natasha smiled softly at the gesture and booped her on the nose, making the young girl giggle. “Can we get ice cream?”

Natasha pretended to think for a moment. “Ice cream? Hmmm, I don’t know.”

“I think yes!”

“Do you? And does Y/n make the rules now?”

The young girl nodded happily, her whole body moving with the force. “Ice cream!”

“Ok, big girl. Let’s get ice cream.” Natasha stood up from her seat and began to set Y/n down on the ground, but the three year old clung to her front like the monkeys behind her, tiny heels digging into Natasha’s waist. There were many things Nat loved about her youngest, but Y/n’s clingy nature was by far her favourite. It made her feel wanted, important.

With a stroller handle in one hand and a child balanced carefully in the other, Nat set off towards the jungle themed cafe she’d spotted on the map by the gate. Wanda had taken Isla off to god knows where, the young girl unable to sit still with so much happening around her.

The cafe itself was rather busy so Natasha expertly manoeuvred the stroller into a corner booth table and kicked the brake down so it wouldn’t roll into anyone’s way. She sank down onto the cushioned blue seat and allowed Y/n to straddle her lap, soft red hair tickling her nostrils as the young girl lay against her mother’s chest.

Natasha quickly scanned her surroundings before pulling out her phone and punching a quick update text to Wanda, who replied back with a video of Isla at the penguin enclosure.

“Look Y/n,” she turned her phone so the young girl could see but Y/n didn’t pay much attention. She watched for two seconds before her head went straight back to Natasha’s collarbone, finding more comfort there than anywhere else. “You’re really not bothered by the zoo, huh?”

Y/n shook her head lazily, her thumb coming up to brush against her lips, a telltale sign for Natasha who was well trained in motherhood.

“I think someone’s tired?” Another sleepy nod. “You wanna go for a nap, detka?” Talking was clearly too much for Y/n, who only replied with yet another nod. Natasha took her response and pulled the stroller close. However, she was met with some resistance as she tried to transfer a now squirmy three year old into her seat. “What’s wrong?”

“-na stay with you,” Y/n mumbled around her thumb before Nat gently prised it out of her mouth. Y/n’s big green eyes blinked up at her tiredly and Natasha couldn’t help but coo at the sight. Her girls were the most adorable things in her life and when they were tired they were so precious.

Nat moved her body back into the corner of the booth and allowed Y/n to swivel around so she was flat against her chest, cheek resting comfortably on the softness of Natasha’s chest. They may not be fed like that anymore, but the twins still found great comfort from their mamas’ chests.

It didn’t take long for Y/n’s breaths to even out and Natasha couldn’t help but take a quick selfie with her daughter, the moment too precious to capture. She stared at her screen with a blissful expression before posting it to her close friends’ instagram story. Only family and the occasional friend was allowed on there, and Yelena of course was the first to send a reply.

@ yelenabelova7

you better be bringing those munchkins to me soon. I want baby Y/n hugs too

Natasha rolled her eyes and laughed as she replied, flawlessly typing even with one hand.

@ natromanoff

i’m impressed you got the twin right. and i’m not putting them on a plane so you’ll have to come here. I know isla would love that.

@ yelenabelova7

I can’t believe you doubt me Natasha. I know my Y/n when I see her. Besides, she’s always clinging to you. You got the quiet one. Wanda has her hands full with the other monkey

@ natromanoff

They’re both our children, Lena. Wands is just happy to be dragged around a zoo. I’d rather sit

@ yelenabelova7

HA! You’re getting old sestra. You’re a mother, not a grandma. Not yet anyway.

Yelena’s comment made Natasha roll her eyes and place her phone down on the table. She cradled Y/n’s head to her chest and rocked her gently back and forth. A smile broke out across her face as she spotted her wife push through the large glass doors, Isla tugging on her arm impatiently.

Natasha held a finger up to her lips as her favourite girls approached, trying not to disturb her youngest. But her efforts were in vain as Y/n recognised the approaching voices and lifted her head to peer around. Wanda bent down and kissed her head softly, brushing her hair back as she pulled away.

“Hello sleepy head,” she cooed, taking a seat on the opposite bench and pulling Isla onto her lap. “Did the ice cream make you sleepy?”

“We didn’t even get that far, did we?” Natasha laughed, watching as Y/n’s head perked up at the mention of the sweet dessert.

“Can we get it now?”

Wanda looked down at Isla. “You wanna get some with me and we can bring it back for Y/n and Mama?”

“Sure!”

“Me go too!” Y/n squirmed off Natasha’s lap and ran over to Wanda, taking the hand on her other side. “Mama stay?” She asked, looking back at Natasha.

The redhead nodded. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

Wanda led the twins away like a mother duck and her ducklings, holding their hands tight until they reached the large glass cabinet. The young woman behind the counter smiled at the precious sight in front of her as the twins stretched up on their toes to peer in.

“Pink!” Y/n exclaimed, pointing to the candy floss ice cream that sounded disgusting in Wanda’s eyes. “Can I get pink?”

“Mommy I want chocolate!”

“What do we say when we want something?” Wanda asked, putting on her best ‘mom’ voice.

“Pleeeeeese?” The girls chorused, tiny toothy smiles dazzling up at their mommy. The worker chuckled and caught Y/n’s eye so she smiled widely at her too.

“That’s better. And yes, you can get whatever you would like. But you have to ask the nice lady politely.”

Isla being Isla spoke up first, puffing out her chest as she took a deep breath. “Please can I have chocolate please?” She pointed into the cabinet, just in case the server wasn’t sure which one was chocolate.

“Of course you can sweetheart. Is that in a cone or a cup?” Isla looked at her blankly and turned to Wanda, a clear cry for help.

“The smallest cone you do please. And just one scoop.” The girl nodded and began preparing her order. “They don’t need too much sugar.”

Once Isla’s order was complete the server turned to Y/n who was staring intently at all the colourful flavours. “Which one would you like sweetheart?”

“Pink?”

“Strawberry?” Y/n looked up at Wanda, tugging her sleeve for help. The mother shook her head and watched to see which one her daughter pointed too. Granted, Y/n could barely point in the right direction but her intention was enough to go off.

“I think she means the candyfloss. The one with the glitter on it.”

Y/n’s was scooped into a similar cone to Isla and then placed on the stand. Wanda quickly sorted herself and Natasha out; two scoops of honeycomb crunch in a cup for herself, and a double scoop of caramel coffee for Nat. Wanda always teased her wife for crunching on the coffee beans that topped her scoop. Natasha sure was a strange one when it came to her flavour preferences.

Ice creams clutched tightly in hands, Wanda ushered her little ducklings back to the safety of the booth where Natasha was waiting, a large grin plastered onto her face that mirrored that of her ice cream laden babies.

Sweet treats were consumed from the safety of the jungle themed cafe and Isla and Y/n swung their feet happily as they nibbled on their cones. Sticky hands and faces were just inevitable and Wanda was soon ready to attack both with baby wipes the second they were done.

“Did you two see everything you wanted to?” Natasha asked, scrolling through the pictures on Wanda’s phone of Isla at various exhibits.

“I saw lions!” Isla bared her teeth and roared, shaking her head like she’d seen the majestic creature do hours earlier. “And the ‘raffes!”

“Giraffes?”

“Yeah!”

Y/n tugged on Natasha’s sleeve and pointed to part of the mural covering the wall to her right. “They have those here?”

The colourful sea creatures were definitely oversaturated; pink sharks didn’t sit comfortably with Natasha. But she followed Y/n finger to a sparkly blue turtle and smiled, noticing how Isla and Wanda also did the same.

“I saw a sign for an aquarium around the corner,” Wanda said. “There could be turtles in there.”

“We go!”

“Now hold on a minute-“ Wanda started, but telling two sugared-up three years olds on a mission to slow down was a fruitless effort. Natasha grabbed both of their tiny wrists and gently tugged them back to the table, earning little angry glares from both girls.

“What did we say about running off?”

“But-“

“Not buts, Y/n. What did we say?”

“Don’t run off,” they said in unison, the floor now much more interesting than Natasha who wasn’t smiling. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok munchkin, just wait 2 minutes and we’ll be ready.”

Wanda and Natasha packed up quickly and headed towards the aquarium side of the zoo, eyes glued to the two little girls in front of them whose hands were tightly clasped together. They may have their favourite parent and stay glued to their side, but Y/n and Isla’s bond truly was unbreakable. Starkly different, yet inseparable.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #fanfic #double the trouble au

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shakespeareanwannabe · 3 months

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As You Wish, Chapter 15

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, panic attack, drinking, sadness, reference to divorce, references to babies, swearing, references to body image issues, swimming and water games

Top Gun, almost 12 years ago

Jake yawned as he sat in front of his locker, his flightsuit half unzipped and his travel mug of coffee cooling on the bench beside him.

He was so. Damn. Tired. Of everything. He was doing the nightshift with the twins so that Buttercup could get some rest, but the top brass wanted him in at 6 a.m. on the dot to run low-light training simulations with the rest of the squad. His parents were constantly on him about taking Buttercup and the twins for a visit and, for a military family, they were having a real tough time understanding that Jake literally didn’t have enough hours in the day as it was. And on top of that…

His head drooped as he remembered what had gone down that morning in the cute little bungalow that he had finally been able to move his family into a mere month before Buttercup had given birth. He had busted his ass for that house, and she wanted to what? Move away for a job she could do from anywhere? When she was barely healed from giving birth and he could deploy again at the drop of a hat?

Jake shook his head. He had to get his head in the game. If he kept replaying the fight in his mind, he’d be useless up in the air. He’d already fucked up the last three simulations they’d flown, and Cyclone had really been up his ass about it. Even Mav had looked at him with disappointment in his eyes.

Jake pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and his fingers gripped his hair, tugging the blond locks tightly. What the fuck was wrong with him? This wasn’t who he was. Star quarterback, homecoming king, only aviator with two confirmed air to air kills of his generation. He’d married the perfect woman and had two perfect daughters, so why was everything so. Fucking. Hard?

“Hey man, are you…what the hell’s wrong with you?” Rooster’s voice came from the doorway but Jake couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything. He couldn’t move his head or his hands. Hell, he couldn’t even control his lungs, which were starting to burn with the speed of his breathing.

“Nothing” is what he tried to say, but all that came out was a garbled groan.

“Whoa, hey…” he felt Rooster take a seat across from him. “Dude, you’ve gotta breathe. Dude? Fuck…” The bench rattled beneath them as Jake flinched away from the gentle hand on his back. “Dude, fucking relax.” Rooster snatched one of his hands and tugged it to his chest, not noticing the blond hairs that ended up tangled in Jake’s clenched fist. Jake would’ve pulled his hand back but didn’t have the energy. He felt like he didn’t have the energy for anything anymore. “Just…try to breathe with me, okay?” Rooster took an exaggerated breath and Jake struggled to follow. “Dude, c’mon. You like to say you’re better at me than everything, but you’re gonna let me be better at breathing? No way. Try again.”

The next breath that Jake took was a little stronger. And so was the one after that. And the one after that, until he stopped shaking and he was able to release his fists and raise his head.

Rooster was staring off to the side and it took Jake a moment too long to realize it was because the older man didn’t want to see him cry. Jake hadn’t even realized he had been crying. Fuck, he hadn’t cried in years. Not even when the girls had been born. He’d wanted to, but he kept the tears at bay until he was in the privacy of his own shower, and everyone knew that shower tears didn’t count.

Jake used the scratchy sleeve of his flightsuit to wipe away the remaining tears before he sniffled, grunted, and sat up. “Thanks, man.” Rooster grunted and shifted on the bench, the wood groaning beneath his weight. “We, uh…we’ve been fighting,” he admitted quietly. “She wants to get a job and she needs more help with the twins, but I’m always needed here, so I don’t know what she wants me to fucking do, y’know?”

Rooster nodded once, eyes firmly on his boots. “You two will figure it out.”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m sure we will. Thanks, Rooster.”

The older man slapped the wood bench beneath him and stood. “Don’t mention it. Now, c’mon. Cyclone wants us on the flight field.”

“I’ll be right there.” His fingers still slightly trembling, Jake zipped up his flightsuit and downed his now cold coffee. “Hey Bradshaw? You’re not gonna tell anyone about this, right?”

“Tell anyone about what?” With that, Rooster pushed open the door to the locker room and disappeared, leaving Jake alone again.

Clifton, Texas, Now

The cold steel of the bleachers bit into Buttercup’s thighs as she chuckled around the mouthful of buttery popcorn she had just shoveled into her mouth, the crowd roaring around her.

Though she was not a football fan, the atmosphere of the high school football game was intoxicating. It seemed like everyone in Clifton had shown up to support the Clifton Cougars in their first pre-season friendly match. And while the keyword was supposed to be friendly, Jake and Javy were both coaching as though it was the last quarter of the Super Bowl and they were down by like 20.

“Let’s go, Cougars!” Abby cheered next to her, her face painted with blue and gold stars to match the school’s official colours.

“Get ‘em, Uncle Javy!” Charlie roared, her own bag of popcorn flying everywhere.

Her daughters’ enthusiasm increased Buttercup’s enjoyment of the game exponentially. While she had watched the Dallas Cowboys play while she and Jake had lived together and supported him when they won or lost, she had always found herself drifting during the televised games. Perhaps what she had needed was her daughters explaining the game to her. Or, she bit her lip, perhaps it was the sight of Jake in the tight white T-shirt and grey joggers that had her eyes hardly straying from the game in front of her.

He was so…passionate. The passion he had always shown for flying was now being shown as he conferred with Javy to call plays and helped bolster the offensive line. Even from her place halfway up the bleachers, she could see the bright stars shining in his eyes as he had a heart to heart with their rookie quarterback, and she could practically hear the warmth in his voice as he clapped the kid on the shoulder before he ran out onto the field.

There were only a few minutes left in the game and, while the Cougars were winning, and while it was only a friendly pre-season match, the hometown crowd was clearly loving the strength of their team. As the team lined up for one final play, Jake leaned in to whisper to Javy, who nodded enthusiastically before Jake turned and beckoned to them in the stands.

Charlie dumped her popcorn on her seat and turned to them eagerly. “C’mon, Mom!”

Buttercup shook her head. “He wants you two,” she smiled softly at her daughter. “You two go, I’ll hold the fort down here.”

Abby pouted at her. “Mum, please?”

“I’m sorry, babe, but there’s no reason your dad would want me down there,” she bit her lip against the sharp pang in her gut. “You two go.”

Abby’s shoulders slumped a bit before Charlie grabbed her arm. “It’s alright, Abs. You’re gonna love this.” Charlie tugged her sister down to the sidelines.

Jake bent down to talk to them briefly before turning back to the bleachers, beckoning to her again. Buttercup felt heat flood her cheeks but she shook her head. Perhaps there was a reason he wanted her down there with their daughters, but the memory of leaning against him on the dark path to the gazebo gave her pause. They had come so close…too close. And yeah, it had felt really good to be that close to him, but it was just nostalgia. They had been in close proximity for almost a week, their muscle memory from a decade ago was clearly kicking in.

From a distance, Buttercup could see Jake roll his eyes before he leaped the fence and started jogging up the steps to the bleachers.

“Buttercup, c’mon!” he called once he reached her row.

Her sigh barely masked her laugh. “Why? Jake, you know I’m not a huge football fan.”

“So? The Cowboys never lost a game when we watched together, so clearly you’re some sort of good luck charm. My boys could really use that luck right now.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ve been winning all game.”

“So?” He fixed her with those patented puppy dog eyes. “The girls want you down there and so do I. Please?”

She groaned as she stood. “You know it’s not fair when you use those eyes.”

He grinned back at her. “I know. That’s why I do it.” Tingles of electricity sparked as he took her hand and led her down to the sidelines. Abby and Charlie met her with a hug as she reached them and Javy grinned at her before turning back to the team to give them a pep talk for their final push with 30 seconds left on the clock. “Okay, now just stand there and be lucky,” he winked at her before turning to join the team again.

Before she could blink, the game was over and Javy was scooping Charlie up in his arms, placing her on his shoulders as the team surrounded him. She squealed as Jake wrapped her up in his arms, spinning her around. She grabbed his arm as her feet touched the ground again, using it to steady herself as he grinned down at her.

“See?” he murmured, as close to her as he had been the night of their dinner. “You’re my good luck charm.”

She felt the heat race to her cheeks as he released her, opting to scoop up Abby as he joined the team’s celebration. She watched as her girls bobbed high above the cheering teenagers and grinned. No matter what was going on in her personal life, seeing her daughters so happy was infinitely worth it.

After the game, she found herself tucked into a corner booth at the local diner, tradition dictating that the Seresin family and Company went out for dinner, whether the Cougars won or lost. Bob had picked up a flight from Dallas to London, stating he’d be back in plenty of time to help with the reunion party scheduled for Saturday night. Phoenix had flat out refused to go to the game, and Rooster had opted to spend the night with her, his wink and nod at Jake enough for the man to know that his friend would at best figure out what was going on between Nat and Javy, at worst keep her from burning the place down. But she found herself happy as she sunk down in the booth, laughing as Javy was immediately tugged away by members of the football team, who were holding court over a bunch of tables pushed together.

“Sorry, fellas,” Jake tilted his head towards his girls with a grin and the teenagers immediately bowed away.

“Huh,” Buttercup mused as the teenagers returned to their table.

“What?”

“Nothing. That was just pretty impressive.”

Jake grinned. “They know that when I’m with Charlie, I’m off limits.”

Something fluttered in Buttercup’s chest as the waitress came over to take their orders.

“Just the usual, Mags,” Jake smiled at her as he stretched his arms across the back of the booth, pausing only to ruffle Abby’s hair.

“Me too!” Charlie settled into her mother’s side.

“Me three!” Abby giggled.

Buttercup blinked. “Ummm…” She scrambled for the sticky plastic menu and winced when it stuck to the table.

Jake stilled her struggle with a light hand on her wrist. “How about the chicken Ceasar salad, a side of fries, and a sweet tea?”

Buttercup couldn’t tear her gaze away from his large hand encircling her wrist, heat radiating up her arm at the gentle touch. Her breath caught and her heart rattled around in her chest for a moment before she was able to compose herself. She was being stupid. It was a simple touch between co-parents, and it wasn’t too far out of the realm of ordinary to remember the food preferences of a former loved one. She always found herself remembering his order of a medium rare steak with fried okra and a loaded baked potato, after all.

“Y-yeah,” she attempted a grin and gently pulled the menu off the table as Jake slowly released her. “That sounds perfect.”

Jake smiled and winked at Mags. “How’s Frank doin’, Mags? All better after his surgery?”

Mags blushed under his grin. “Oh, yes, he is. And thank you again, Coach, for sending your boys over to help with the yard work. I don’t know what I would’ve done without all the extra hands.”

Jake waved an easy hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll let Javy know they were helpful.” He winked at her again as she scurried off to the kitchen with her notepad.

“Hey girlie!” Javy hollered over from his spot with the team. “Davidson here thinks he can beat your score at Ms. Pacman!”

Charlie practically crawled over her mother and barely caught herself before she went headfirst into the floor from the bench seat. “Oh hell no! C’mon, Abs!” One quick look up at her father, and Abby dove after her sister, both girls giggling as they shouldered the senior running back out of the way.

“Don’t worry,” Jake murmured to her, watching her as she watched their daughters with the rowdy group of teens. “They’ve known her for years and see her as a little sister, and they accepted Abby right into the fold too. They’d be first on the attack if anything happened to either of them. And Javy is right there. He’ll keep things PG-13.”

Buttercup felt her cheeks warm under the weight of his stare. “Sorry,” she sighed. “I guess I’m not used to this small-town living thing. I feel like I can barely take my eyes off her in London. Everyone there is practically a stranger.”

Jake settled deeper into the booth, his long legs kicking out. “Yeah…everyone here either knows each other or knows of each other. Everyone looks out for everyone else. It’s a weird vibe to get used to, but once you do, there’s nothing like it.”

She quietly thanked Mags as she delivered their drinks and took a small sip of her sweet tea before grinning. “I guess I just never pegged you as the type of person to like the Leave It to Beaver lifestyle.”

Jake’s laughter poked at the small flame kindling in her chest, sending sparks flying. She’d missed that sound. Towards the end of them, there hadn’t been much laughter to go around, but his laugh had always been one of her favourite sounds, especially when they first got together. He’d still had so many walls up, preferring to keep his squad mates at an arm’s length, and that included anyone associated with them. He’d been all biting wit and sarcasm, but once he’d lowered his defences, she’d been a goner.

“I guess I didn’t really give off a Mayfield vibe, huh?” he chuckled. “And you’re not wrong. I spent a few summers here with my grandfather, but my head was always in the clouds or in my cockpit, so I never really enjoyed it. But, I don’t know…” he gazed around while sipping his beer. “My grandparents always said there was no better place to raise a kid than here. So, when I retired…I don’t know, I guess I figured here was as good a place as any. And I would have my grandfather to help me raise Charlie, so…it made sense.”

Buttercup nodded thoughtfully, her eyes scanning the old pictures and news articles that had been pinned to the walls. “It must be nice…growing up in a place with so much family history.”

Jake shrugged. “I grew up in Dallas, but I guess it was nice coming here. Everyone I met had some sort of story about my grandparents growing up, or my great-grandparents.”

“And now Charlie gets to hear about her dad growing up, and her great-grandparents, and her great-great-grandparents…” Buttercup sighed heavily. Her eyes jerked up to meet his as his hand landed on top of hers, squeezing lightly.

“What’s wrong, Buttercup?” The kindness and warmth in his eyes almost had her tearing up.

She shrugged, sniffling back those tears that were threatening to pool in her eyes. “I think you were right. Taking the job in London was the wrong decision. I cut us off from all the support we had, and—”

“Hey, now…none of that,” Jake squeezed her hand again and leaned in, so close to her that she could smell the spice of his cologne and the woodsy undertones that were pure Jake. “I was a stubborn, jealous asshole when I said that. You…you were drowning in Miramar, and I was too scared to be willing to see it. I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am for that.”

Buttercup chewed on her bottom lip as she looked into those green eyes. “That’s the first time you’ve ever told me you were scared,” she whispered.

Jake hung his head and rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. “Yeah…I’m sorry about that too. I should’ve told you; I just didn’t want to add onto everything you were already dealing with. But maybe if I had…”

Buttercup flipped her hand and squeezed his gently, ignoring the shocks that went through her at the contact. “Communication was never our strong suit, was it?” she smiled sadly at him, and he chuckled in response, the sound sad and longing.

“No, I guess it wasn’t. But hey, we’re both older now, right?”

Her smile brightened a bit, even as her heart began to thud overtime. Was he suggesting…? But he couldn’t be. He was fresh off a breakup, and they lived on opposite sides of the world, and their daughters needed a solid unified front if they were going to adapt healthily into this new dynamic. Buttercup schooled her features before grinning at him.

“Yeah. We’re both older now,” her heart did a funny little flip at his smile, and she schooled that too. “We should be able to communicate way better for the girls. We did promise them a better custody arrangement, after all.”

It may have been a flicker of the old fluorescent bulbs overhead, or the shadow of Mags passing out their food falling over his face, but she could have sworn that a frown tugged at the edges of Jake’s mouth at her words. But in a blink, it was gone, and he was whistling for the girls to return to their table to eat.

“As you wish, Buttercup,” he murmured softly as their daughters raced over. “If a better custody arrangement is what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Saturday morning was a rush of activity and preparation for the Dagger’s reunion party. Jake, Javy, Bob, and Rooster had reached out to all their contacts and invited all the Daggers they had managed to contact. By Friday, they had received RSVPs from almost everyone. Penny and Amelia had immediately launched into planning mode, and Payback and Fanboy had enthusiastically agreed, the pair having stuck together since the Daggers had been disbanded. Omaha, Fritz, Halo and Harvard had all emailed back with their disappointed declines, seeing as they were all stationed in classified locations and weren’t due to be back in a few months.Yale said that he would come if he could, but it depended on his girlfriend’s work schedule. Even Cyclone and Hondo said that they would make an appearance if they were able, but Warlock wouldn’t be able to make it.

With such a large crowd, they had all been put on prep duty. Natasha and Bob had cleaned out a few of the empty dude ranch cabins to make space for their guests. Rooster had planned a huge menu of comfort food that they hadn’t really been allowed to eat while they were in the Navy. Jake and Javy had raided the local liquor store and brought back a veritable treasure trove of potent potables. Buttercup, Abby and Charlie had gone decoration shopping and brought back an embarrassing amount of cliche summer decorations, including flamingo floaties, sun-shaped sunglasses, and plastic pineapple cocktail cups. However, nothing truly got done until Penny rolled in with Amelia on Friday night, taking one look at the party supplies that had been strewn around the ranch house and sighing fondly, directing them with military precision.

Finally, after what felt like hours of hanging bunting, blowing up balloons, and cleaning the pool, Buttercup was lounging on a chaise by said pool next to Natasha, the Texan sun beating down on their skin as they laughed at the boys, all crammed in the pool playing an aquatic version of Dogfight Football.

Buttercup sighed contentedly as she sipped her margarita and watched her girls play with Payback’s kids, her eyes catching occasionally on Jake as he tackled Javy into the water.

“...are you even listening to me?” Natasha sighed, pulling her hat further down on her head to shield her scar from the sun.

“Hmm?” Buttercup’s eyes followed Jake as he threw the red foam football down the length of the pool, his muscles rippling as the water lapped at his waist.

“Damn, girl,” Natasha sighed as Payback’s wife, Maryanne, settled into the lounge beside them. “You’ve still got it bad.”

“Fuck off,” Buttercup muttered as she dragged her eyes away from the game. “Charlie, no tackling!” she shouted, as she noticed Charlie sneaking up on Payback’s son, Richard.

Amelia sighed and stood from where she was dangling her feet in the water. “I’ve got ‘em.”

“Amelia, you don’t have to do that…”

Amelia smiled at her and headed over to the grassy hill. “It’ll be good experience, don’t worry.”

Buttercup watched Amelia join the kids, immediately launching into whatever game they were playing with gusto. Shaking her head, she turned her head and noticed both women staring at her. “What?”

“Don’t what me,” Natasha grumbled. “Everyone can see how you two look at each other.”

“There’s no look,” Buttercup sighed.

“Honey, there’s definitely a look,” Maryanne sighed, watching her husband as he dunked Fanboy into the water. “He stares at you like he’ll never get enough.”

“It’s true,” Penny piped up from her spot under the umbrella. “He looks at you the same way he looked at you when you two first started dating. Like the sun rises and sets with you, like you hold the key to all of life’s happiness. Those kinds of looks don’t come around every day, sweetheart.”

Buttercup rolled her eyes and snuggled further down into her chair, determined to ignore her friends. There was no look. She and Jake looked at each other in a completely platonic, non-romantic way. If there was a look, it was the long-suffering look that parents shared with each other when their kids did something ridiculous. She opened her mouth to tell them that, but something smoky and slightly acrid filled her lungs instead.

“Hey, Rooster? Why does it smell like something is burning?”

In an instant, all the heads in the pool snapped to her. Except, it wasn’t Rooster who moved, but Jake. In one smooth move, he heaved himself out of the pool, his biceps flexing and contracting against his body weight as he swung his legs over the side of the pool.

Buttercup’s mouth turned to the Sahara as she blatantly stared at him, her eyes tracing the droplets of water that skimmed down his pecs and abs, blinking as he grabbed a white towel and quickly tousled his hair with it before picking up his tan baseball cap and slinging it over his head backwards, keeping his damp hair out of his eyes. He slung his towel over his shoulders as he strode for the grill, grabbing the tongs and flipping the burgers with practised ease.

“No look, my ass,” Natasha whispered as he passed, snorting at the dazed look on her friend’s face.

“Fuck off…” she murmured, her eyes tracing the rippling lines of his back.

“I thought Rooster was the chef here, Hangman?” Maryanne teased, her eyes watching Buttercup closely.

“Hey, everything else was done by me!” Rooster called, throwing off Fanboy’s overly enthusiastic tackle with ease. “Hangman’s just overly protective of his grill.”

“A man and his grill have a special relationship that nobody else can understand, Bradshaw,” Jake’s grin was filled with light and ease, clearly having no clue the effect he was having on his ex-wife.

“Seems like you have a lot of relationships that nobody else can understand, dude,” Javy waggled his eyebrows at him

“Did you really almost marry a former beauty queen that’s almost half your age, Hangman?” Payback asked, climbing out of the pool and catching the towel his wife threw to him.

“And can I have her number?” Fanboy smirked as he climbed onto one of the pool floaties.

“No,” Jake grimaced as he rolled the hot dogs. “Mickey, you don’t want her number.”

Javy cackled, flipping Fanboy’s floatie before he could flip Jake off. “Isn’t that the exact same thing I told you when we met her and her dad on the golf course?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Maybe. But y’all are acting like I came to my senses at the altar or something. We were barely engaged.”

“You were touring venues, Dad,” Charlie groaned as she flopped onto her towel by her mother’s feet.

“She had the Save the Date cards printed too,” Abby pointed out, sitting on the edge of Natasha’s chair.

Buttercup giggled at Jake’s expression. “They’re not wrong, Jake. You were going to marry that girl.”

Jake turned his eyes to her, and her breath caught at the anything but teasing look in them. If anything, those green eyes were heavy with guilt. Guilt and longing and a look that she recognized but didn’t want to name. Naming it made it real. Naming it made it breakable, and if it broke again, she didn’t know what she would do.

Suddenly, she was desperate to cover herself. What had she been thinking, wearing a bikini in her ex-husband’s backyard? She was too exposed, too much of her left revealed for him to see. Her hand blindly searched for a blanket or a towel or her wrap, anything to keep the heat of his gaze off her before it burned her again.

“Is this any way for a distinguished unit to greet their superior officer?”

Fanboy and Payback jumped to attention, whirling to salute Cyclone and Hondo as they strolled through the open back gate. Phoenix rolled her eyes while Javy and Rooster bestowed him with a one finger salute, and the spell that had hung between Buttercup and Jake broke. He blinked and turned back to his grill, and Buttercup ceased her senseless search for her wrap. She was being stupid. There was nothing between them, so there was no reason to cover herself up. Besides, it had taken her a long time to be proud of her body again, and she would flaunt it if she wanted to.

“Knock it off, Beau,” Penny cooed as she greeted the Admiral with a warm hug. “Everyone should be at ease today.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled softly down at her before reaching out to shake Jake’s hand. “Seresin! Thank you for the invite.”

“Glad you could make it, sir,” Jake responded warmly. “I hope you brought your appetite. We’ve cooked up enough food to feed an army.”

“We’re both starving,” Hondo shook Jake’s hand. “We appreciate the invitation. I know we didn’t part ways on the best of terms.”

Jake shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It’s all water under the bridge.” Jake turned his attention to the grill for a moment before calling out, “Food’s almost ready everyone!”

Bob popped up from his seat under the cabana. “I’ll go get the stuff from inside and bring it out.”

“I’ll come with,” Natasha called, avoided Cyclone’s gaze with a fierce determination.

Jake’s eyes followed Bob as he put out a hand to stop her. “Actually, Phoenix, can you do me a favour and put all the meat in the trays? I’ll give Bob a hand.”

Natasha eyed him skeptically but nodded. “Sure…but if you do anything to piss him off, I’ll break your face.”

“Bold of you to assume that Charlie and Abby wouldn’t beat you to it,” Jake grinned as he followed the former WSO into the kitchen.

His former brother-in-law was standing with his back to him, his strategic mind undoubtedly figuring out the best way to get all the salads, sides, buns, and veggies out without spilling anything.

“You know, if we flip the lids so that they’re flat, we could stack the salads and I could bring them out and you—”

“Whoa, slow down there, Bobby,” Jake chuckled as he moved to stand beside him. “I want to talk to you for a second first.”

Bob’s eyes remained on the table. “What about? You and I don’t really have much of anything to discuss, do we?”

Jake flinched but nodded. “Yeah, alright, I deserve that.”

“You deserve a lot more than that,” Bob huffed. “I told her to stay away from you, and—”

“And I fucked it up,” Jake bit out. “Just like you always knew I would.”

Bob’s eyes finally raised to meet his, and there was a fire in them that Jake hadn’t seen since Natasha had been brought to the medbay, bleeding from her eye and nonresponsive.

“She was sick, Seresin,” Bob hissed under his breath. “She was so sick and you…”

Jake’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he worked to dislodge the words he had been struggling with for years. “I wasn’t around to notice.” Jake sighed even as his heart panged. “I know. I missed half of her pregnancy and then I deployed again when the twins were like three months old. I agreed to deploy again even though I knew she was struggling. And the one thing that seemed to spark her…” Jake shook his head. “I’m not trying to make excuses, Bob, but I was scared. My wife wasn’t herself, I was running on next to no sleep, the brass kept wanting me for training exercises, and the girls were so young and helpless. Everybody needed a piece of me and I couldn’t deal. That’s no excuse, but it’s the truth. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, ever since you got here.” Jake took a deep breath and held out his hand. “I wanted to thank you…for taking care of my family when I couldn’t. I know they’re your family too, but since I wasn’t capable…I’m damn glad you were.”

Bob considered his hand for a moment. “I don’t think you weren’t capable,” he muttered after what felt like hours, and he shook Jake’s hand. “I can’t imagine what was going through your mind. You always felt the need to be perfect…you put too much pressure on yourself to be perfect in every aspect of your life, and when home wasn’t perfect…” Bob shrugged and released his hand. “You both cracked under the pressure. I’m not saying it was all her fault, because she was really sick, but it takes two to get married. It takes two to get divorced too.”

Jake blinked at him. “Jesus, Bob, you’re like Dr. Phil without the accent.”

Bob scoffed and started flipping the lids on the salad bowls. “And you’re still a dick, just without the flightsuit to justify it.”

Jake laughed and started loading the condiments into a metal tray, feeling lighter than he had in a while.

“They ate everything,” Rooster muttered, gazing down at the empty metal trays and all the empty bowls. “I’m pretty sure Fanboy even ate part of the watermelon rind.”

Jake laughed loudly, clapping his friend on the back. “Why do you sound so surprised? You do remember who we’re dealing with, right?” At that, a loud crash and a screaming chorus of “We’re alright!” rang out from the backyard.

Rooster sighed, hanging his head. “I’m too old to deal with this shit anymore…”

Jake grinned and tossed his head. “Why don’t you go make sure nothing valuable got broken out there? I’ll handle a bit of the clean up in here.” Rooster shot him a look and he rolled his eyes. “Dude, it’s my house. My kitchen. Don’t worry, I’m not going to mess up your precious system.”

“Yeah, you’d better not,” Rooster muttered as he strode out the double French doors to the backyard, scooting out of the way to let Buttercup go by with the empty dessert tray.

“They’re a bunch of animals,” she sighed, taking in the mess.

Jake chuckled. “Careful, or you’re going to start sounding like Rooster.”

He started gathering up the metal trays and stuffing them into a recycling bag.

“You’re not cleaning up now, are you? Everyone wants you out there.”

Jake shrugged. “Just a bit. Rooster will have my head on a spike if any bugs get in here because we left the mess for too long.”

“Oh…” Buttercup bit her lip as she looked around, then back to him. She seemed to be steeling herself before she nodded and said, “Let me help you then.”

Jake smiled softly and murmured his thanks before the two of them fell into a bittersweet rhythm together, dodging and weaving around each other as they stacked plates, snagged garbage, and rinsed cups.

“Now, this takes me back,” Jake’s voice was wistful as he began scrubbing down the serving utensils.

Buttercup smiled as she grabbed a ladle from him to dry. “Christmas…New Years…St. Patrick’s Day…”

Jake snorted. “You were the cutest little elf I’ve ever seen.”

Buttercup gasped in mock outrage. “I was a leprechaun, thank you very much.”

“Still adorable,” Jake shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I can’t say the same for you and Santa Claus.”

Jake turned to her, letting the tongs fall into the sink with a dull thud. “What was wrong with my Santa Claus?”

“Other than that you wouldn’t let anybody but me sit on your knee, and you told Rooster and Javy to fuck off when they tried to ask you where the presents were?” Buttercup grinned at him.

“Hey, I was a very jolly old Saint Nick!”

“If by jolly, you mean horny…” Buttercup bit her lip, wincing internally. She hadn’t meant to say that. She really shouldn’t have said that. But there was something about the normalcy of being in his kitchen, cleaning up after a Daggers party. It was warm, it was calming, it was familiar.

A gush of wetness against her bare belly tore her from her thoughts and left her gasping at Jake’s cocky face.

“What?” he smirked. “You’ve been in your bathing suit all day and didn’t get wet. Thought I would help you out with that.”

Buttercup put down the dish she was drying and started winding up her towel. “Now you’ve gone and done it, Hangman,” she glared playfully at him, brandishing the wound towel in his direction before snapping it in the direction of his bare thigh.

“Hey!” he yelped, rounding the island to escape the towel’s sting. Safe behind the island, he grabbed the sink sprayer and aimed it at her, laughing at her squeals as the water rained down on her.

“Get back here, Seresin,” she cried, winding up her fabric weapon again as they began to chase each other around the kitchen. Around and around they went, water from the sprayer and the sink splashing up and towels whipping back and forth until Buttercup’s foot hit a damp patch of tile and slid out from under her.

Wincing, she braced herself for a fall…that never came.

“Easy, darlin’,” a thick arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close, steadying her against a sturdy chest. A sturdy bare chest. “You alright?” Green eyes gazed down at her, worry and that touch of something that would remain nameless filling them.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she murmured, one palm braced against his pec.

“I don’t know, I kinda like it,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning over her cool bare skin.

“Because you get to play hero?” she murmured, feeling his heart begin to beat harder and faster as she leaned against the counter, and he caged her in between his arms. They both knew she could easily escape, and just as easily tell him to back up, but she didn’t.

“Because I get to hold you again,” he admitted softly, his nose grazing hers for all of a nanosecond.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the heat of him press closer to her. “Jake…”

A low groan vibrated in his chest. “Tell me to stop…tell me we can’t…”

“I…” her breath shook. She knew they shouldn’t. Their situation was messy enough as it was. Not to mention he was fresh off a broken engagement. And, if this fell apart again, the girls would be devastated. She would be devastated. She couldn’t open herself up to him again…and yet, she also didn’t have the strength to say no to him. “I—”

“Hey, Seresin, I—oh!” Cyclone hesitated in the doorway. “Sorry, I’ll just…”

“It’s fine, Admiral,” Jake sighed, knowing the mood had been shattered. “What can I do for you?” His skin felt cold as Buttercup slipped under his arm and went back to drying the dishes.

“Well, there were rumours floating around that you were planning on joining us again, putting those skills of yours to good use in a few years. I was wondering if there was any merit to that?” Jake gulped as he sensed Buttercup going taut behind him, but Cyclone continued. “I was playing golf a few weeks ago with General Beaumont and he mentioned that you might want back in. Tell me the old man wasn’t just pulling my leg, Seresin. We need an Ace like you back on duty.” The clatter of metal against metal caught Cyclone’s attention, and he stopped, seeming to finally realize the tension that had clogged the air. “I should go see what Hondo got up to,” he bowed out with a slight frown in Jake’s direction before clicking the doors closed behind him.

“Buttercup…” Jake turned to see her tense back and bowed shoulders leaning against the sink.

“You want to go back?”

Jake’s eyelids fluttered closed. Shit.

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#jake seresin x reader #glen powell #as you wish fic #jake seresin #top gun maverick #parent trap au #top gun fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic

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get0sfav · 10 months

Text

MEANIE! | ryomen s.

↳ ryomen sukuna x f!reader

assigned to be the resident bad boy's lab partner who also happens to be your friend's twin brother? so cliche! loosing your virginity to him? even more cliche! ugh!

18+ Minors DNI!

warnings; university au, mean!sukuna, virgin!shy!reader, sukuna is yuji's twin brother, superr cliche, ooc sukuna, cussing, teasing, dub-con/ish, pet names (good girl, brat, doll, etc.), name-calling (slut, whore, fucktoy), degradation, fingering, ass spanking, biting, nipple play, slight groping, mentions of f!masturbation, size difference, doggy style, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (sukuna convinces reader to let him hit raw😔🤚🏼), multiple orgasms (2), choking, creampie, breeding kink, yuji catches the two of you🤓, not proofread.

wc; 2.7k

a/n; writing this made me realise how I was not built for this shit p.s this is so horrible but I had to post it because it was supposed to be up yesterday but eh, anyways, I promise the next fic would be a lot better thank you for reading. also lmk if anyone wants to be tagged in these fics !

tags(?); @satocidal <3

A familiar set of pink hair caught your sight, and if you didn't know better, you'd assume it was Yuji. But it wasn't, because you weren't in the cafeteria, waiting for him on a bench, but rather in a class he didn't take. No, It was his brother- Ryomen Sukuna. They looked identical for the most part, except, they often didn't. Where Yuji had a soft face, adored with the biggest smile ever, his brother had a sharp, ink clad face with an ever present scowl on it.

Luck of course wasn't on your side when you got assigned as his partner. Yuji wasn't happy either, because no way in hell would he want you, one of his best friends to be anywhere near his brother. Not like you had a say in any of this, but this project was worth about 40 percent of your grade, and you needed to get an A+ on this one. Your last project went horribly because of your last partner, and you weren't about to let another lazy, or rather intimidating partner let you drag your grades down once again.

Sukuna was sat beside you, occupying nearly 2 whole seats with the way he was spreading his legs. He seemed the least bothered about what the professor was saying, didn't bother to make notes or anything. That automatically meant that you were going to take notes for the both of you.

Great.

Chewing at your pen while the lecture hall filled with low chatter of people talking to their partners, discussing whatever topic they were assigned, on contrary to you and your partner, who was still the least bothered about anything.

Building up the courage to finally talk to him, you turn around to face him, but your attempt to speak up was cut off by his intimidating glare, "You're gonna do all the work, I'll pay you- or whatever. I don't got no time for this shit." He scowled, looking back towards his phone. "I- but-" The words died down in your throat with another look from him.

The class was dismissed soon enough, as he threw his bag over his shoulder, giving you a look that you couldn't quite understand, "Well?" He raised a brow, the way he stared down at you from his height was quite intimidating. And when he put one foot forward, his gaze only became more imposing.

"C'mon, speak up."

"Well-" You took a deep breath, trying to sound a little brave while speaking "Well, what I meant to say is that I can't complete the project by myself- it's way too big, and it's worth like 40 percent of our grade."

"Then I guess you'll fail" He chuckled, bringing his phone out and ignoring whatever else you had to add onto the matter. He did not want to be bothered. He turned to face you, the most threatening thing you could think of was now looking at you, and he had no intentions of moving. It was quite the sight.

You simply backed down, almost shriveling into the little bubble you came out from. Well that was a shit show. No wonder his brother didn't like him. Hell, moments like these made you wonder how the hell him and Yuji are related, moreover, twin brothers.

"What do you expect me to do? Babysit you? You know how to write, how to research, I'm sure you can figure it out." Sukuna grumbled, before returning his eyes to the screen of his phone. He clearly didn't want to be bothered, but he also didn't want to give the dean another reason to get on his ass, so he'd maintain the conversation. For now, atleast.

"I wouldn't have bothered you if I could do it alone-" You stated, chewing on your fingernails "It requires two people, and I don't think I count as two so." The words simply spurted out of your mouth, and you had no idea where you got the confidence to even speak like that in the first place. Maybe it was because you had already decided that it was A+ or nothing, and there was absolutely no way anyone was going to stand between you and your grade.

"Oh? And why can't you do it alone?" Sukuna asked, finally turning his gaze from his phone up to you.

His gaze was almost threatening, as if he was sizing you up. Which he was. After a moment of silence, and a slight shake of his head, "Fine." He said, turning on his heel and walking away. He did not, however, wait for you to follow, even though the way he ended the conversation implied that he wanted you to follow him.

"Oh-" Was it really that easy? Or was there a catch to his agreement. Whatever it was, you were sure you could handle it, but as for now, you quickly stuffed your things in your bag, rushing after him.

"And one more thing" He called over his shoulder, still continuing to walk. His voice sounded stern, unamused. It didn't have the same warmth and softness to it that Yuji had. Sukuna sounded cold, threatening and had a slight edge to it.

"We're not partners. Don't talk to me more than you need to."

"Okay" It wasn't as if you wanted to talk to him either, but it wasn't a big deal to affirm what he had said. "Well? Should we go to the library or somewhere else?" You asked awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt.

"I do whatever I want, and you're coming with. We're going to study at my place." Sukuna did not go to the library to study- hell, he didn't even study, and definitely not in a pair. He didn't even acknowledge you until you spoke, but you would have to follow anyway. He turned to walk, expecting you to fall in line.

"Alright..." You spoke under your breath, following him back to his house. You had been there a couple of times when you hung out with Yuji, Megumi and Nobara, but you had never seen Sukuna around at that time, and you had a slight hint that most of the times he was out partying, or getting wasted one way or the other.

Atleast that's what Yuji had told you.

His and Yuji's apartment was close to the campus, and that's where you two went. He crept inside the house, removing his shoes at the door and you did the same. The same cold voice spoke once again, and you were left with no choice but to follow him to his room.

The lights were off, and the place was lit by a window that let the sun shine inside.

"You can sit on the bed." Not bothering to say anything else, he threw his bag on the floor, choosing to sit on his desk and working on his PC. Surprisingly, he actually knew what the topic was, and had already collected some material regarding it.

"kay" You nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed as you placed down your bag beside you, taking out your own laptop to work.

The two of you worked in silence, the only sound echoing in the room was the typing sounds of keys, or the occasional sigh that escaped his lips.

He continued, rolling his neck to ease up some tension, he seemed to work in silence, only calling your name when he needed something from you.

After a couple of hours, Sukuna pushed his chair back, stretching his arms out. He had finally finished and it was, rather impressive. Sukuna's writing skills were, to say the least, superb.

"Are you nearly done yet?" He stood up from his chair, walking to stand beside you, leaning down a little to see what you were doing on your screen.

"Yeah, I'm almost done. Could you just mail me everything you've written? I'll compile it and print it out and maybe tomorrow we can work on actually doing the project practically, since we're almost done with the theoretical part?" You spoke in a soft tone, looking at him, waiting for his response.

*He stared back down at you, for about a whole minute, his gaze was almost intimidating. "Check your email." He sighed, standing back straight to stretch his arms once more. You nodded, checking your email just as he asked, only to find the work you needed already there in your inbox. Wasn't he efficient.

"Oh, well, thanks. I think we're done for the day, right? I guess we'll meet tomorrow then?" You acknowledged, before packing up your stuff in your bag, giving him a curt nod, a way of saying 'thank you.' He simply gave you a quick look, probably his way of telling that he heard you. With that, you darted out of his room and towards the font door, without sparing another glance towards him.

As you exited his apartment, you realised that you may or may not have left your phone on his bed. Dreading to face his gaze once more, you needed your phone to get home, so, with sweaty palms, you knock on his door once, waiting for him to open it. The door flew open, with Sukuna's annoyed expression, eyebrows crossed in annoyance, "What the hell do you want now brat?"

"I- I think I left my phone inside." You gulped, and he simply lets out a grunt of annoyance, opening the door just enough for you to slip in, which you do quickly, rushing to his room where you previously sat to find your phone. Luckily, it was easily spotted, kept on the nightstand. You quickly pick it up and pocket it, turning around to find him leaning on the door frame with the same cruel eyes of his.

Refusing to make eye contact with him, you try to swiftly exit the room, but fate had other plans for you. Tripping on whatever invisible obstacle that was placed in your path, you fall. On Sukuna.

A yelp escapes your mouth, thankfully, his reflexes were quick, but not quick enough, causing the two of you to fall on the floor, him taking the most of the collison. You're way to afraid to even open your eyes, because you knew you'd be met with the most deathly glare from the man beneath you. What makes things even worse, you were basically stradling his lap, hands on his chest, and let's not forget- his hands, on your ass. Your cheeks turn crimson at the realisation, as you squeezed you eyes shut, hoping that maybe, somehow a strike of thunder would evaporate you from the world.

You're frozen in place, not being able to do anything as you await the meanest string of cusses ever heard, probably even a shove too, but no. What you hear is much, much scarier. A chuckle. A chuckle from the Ryomen Sukuna. "What's got you blushing like a 'fuckin virgin eh?" His chuckle resonated in the silent room, making heat creep up your entire body. You weren't sure whether it was from embarassment or something entirely different.

"Aw, you like my hands on your ass brat?" He teased further, slightly squeezing your ass in between his hands, eliciting a gasp from your lips, your eyes flowing open, only to see a smug smirl on his face. You were sure at this point, your entire face was red, and maybe, just maybe he was right. You just might like his hands on your ass.

Seeing your reaction, he pushes you so you were properly stradling his lap now, squeezing your ass once more, this time a little harder. "Let me guess- y're a virgin?" He concluded, from the looks you were giving. Was it really that obvious? Well, there's no point in lying anyway. You nod slowly, as he barks out a laugh, causing you to flinch a little, "Fuckin hell," He shook his head, the smirk still on his face, "Your cunt must be fucking tight, hm?"

His words made you shudder, and god you'd be lying if you said his words didn't give you the tingling feeling in your lower stomach. "Hah. Tell me this then, what would happen if i did," He gripped your ass tightly, and without putting in any effort, he lifted you up along with himself, causing you to mewl. Your legs were now hanging beside him, his hands still on your ass as he walked and thre you on his bed, quite a bit violently for your liking.

"W-What are you trying to do?" Your voice came out meekly, but he simply chuckled once more. "let's say; if i were to do, this," He moved closer to you, his hands gripping at your waist, pulling you closer to him, slowly snaking his hands under your shirt, his cold hands feeling electrical on your bare skin as you bit back a hiss, "And then, this," His hands were moving up and down your waist, inching closer and closer to the hem of your bra, "Do you like this?" He smirked, now enveloping his finger around your waist, pulling you in a way that you were laying on you back, with him on top of you.

Fuck him and his annoying, good looking, smug face. You never found him to be even remotely attractive before, so why were you dripping in your panties then? Was it your touch-deprived brain feel so turned on from finally being touched by someone else other than your own fingers? Probably.

Almost like he could read your mind, his skilled fingers traveled to the hem of your pants, raising his eyebrows, his way of asking if you wanted it. Not a single word came out of your mouth, breath hitching in your throat. You weren't sure yourself, whether you wanted this or not, but he took your silence as approval, pulling down your pants in an instant, followed by the removal of your shirt as well. It all happened so quickly that there was no time to process it, before his tongue was inside your mouth, while his hands roamed around your underwear clad body. You moaned softly in the kiss, his experienced lips guiding your own, his tongue exploring your mouth. Messy, sloppy and rough. He didn't stop kissing you, wanting to go on forever.

He breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting both of your lips and the sight makes the sensation in your lower stomach even stronger, feeling yourself growing wetter and wetter every moment.

You want to say something, anything at all, but you trail off, your throat feeling dry when his fingers tease along the line of your jaw, down to your chin. Tipping it up, he leans in and leaves a warm kiss on your throat, trailing lower, lower and lower until he reaches the valley of your breasts, fingers travelling to your back to unclasp the hook of the bra, throwing it away somewhere along the rest of your clothes. He bites down on the sensitive skin just about your left nipple, before lapping it with his tongue. His free hand plays with your other nipple pinching and pulling at it.

Each and every action he does causes a new sound to erupt from deep within you, the way you responded made him go wild. There was just something about virgins that made him lose his mind. The way they responded from just the slightest touch- or how wet their cunts get from just kissing. But he'd have to admit, you were his favorite by far. It wasn't just you that responded to him, it was your whole body, wanting more and more from him. He loved it.

His fingers brush over your clothed folds before he cups your mound. Grinding the heel of his palm against you gently, you roll your hips up into his touch, rubbing against his hand, "God.. Do you feel that doll, feel how soaked you are? getting my hand wet by just rubbing it over your pantie, tch, I bet you'd stain my sheets from just how wet this little pussy is." Closing your eyes shut at his words, you feel yourself leaning more and more into his touch, wanting nothing more than for him to touch you, directly.

Eager pants leave you when his fingers teasingly dip between your folds through the thin material of your panties. The fabric is damp already and as he teases you with touches that are entirely too gentle for your rising desperation, you find yourself whining under his cruel touch. He simply chuckles, "tch, now, now, it's not nice to get all eager, you should be thankful to me." His actions get more cruel, as he does nothing but play with your folds from over the fabric.

Satisfied with how you’re whining underneath him, he slides his fingers to the hem of your panties, pulling them down with a snap against your skin, retreating to keep them in the drawer of his bedside stand. The air hits your wet cunt, causing you to shiver, as you push yourself on your elbows, watching him look at your cunt with greedy eyes. Spreading your legs further apart, two of his fingers dip into your hole and he is pleased to find it welcoming him into your tight heat. A loud moan slips past your lips, as you feel his fingers dip inside you.

This was way better than any time when you had touched yourself on your own, his two fingers stretching you out better than anything. The length of his fingers caused you to jerk, feeling the slightest bit of pain from how long and thick they were, small tears forming in the corner of your eyes "Shitttt look at you" He grunts, and you look up at him, only to see him palming the tent in his pants, "You're nearly crying from my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock doll?" He chuckles cruelly, picking up the pace of his fingers inside you.

Your walls pulse around him and you arch your body into him when he curls the digits up and rubs exploratively within your pussy, trying to find the spot that makes you see stars.

He's too rough, adding a third finger and pushes all three of them into you down to the knuckle. This tears a gasp from your throat and you buck your hips up into his touch, over and over again, as you feel the strength leave your legs. You were seeing stars now, eyes closed shut, gasps and moans leaving your mouth. He loved the sight, continuing his pace, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter.

"Su-Sukuna, 'm gonna cum-!" Your fingers grip the sheets beside you, your entire body shaking from the intensity and quickness of his fingers, moaning his name over and over again, "Good girl, good fucking girl, cum for me" He smirks, adding his thumb to rub circles on your clit, a yelp flies from your mouth as you're a sweaty mess under his touch. With a few more pumps from his fingers, you're yelling out his name, knuckles white from how hard you had been gripping the sheets as he guides you through your high, the intense wave of pleasure hitting hard, head hitting the plush mattress as your arms give out, and everything seemed a little dizzy around you.

He retreats his fingers, causing your cunt to clench around nothing. You hear him zipping down his pants, chuckling dryly. "Cmon slut, I ain't done with you yet." His hands grab at your waist, flipping you over so that your head was pressed against the mattress, and your ass was facing him. Huffing, you turn around to see him, eyes widening when you're met with the sight of his cock instead.

It was long, not too long but longer than the average one you saw in porn. He was girthy too, multiple veins running down to the tip of dick. The tip was flushed red, leaking with pre-cum, his hand grabbing the base of it. What caught your eye was that the tattoos that decorated his entire body ended just where his dick started.

"Aren't you going to use a- a condom?" You objected, slightly biting your lip. He simply scoffs, "Trust me, you don't want to use a condom for your first time doll, it's just more painful." He shrugs, his finger collecting the pre cum from his tip before pumping his hand up and down on his entire length. He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and a slight pout, "If you're that worried I'll buy you morning after pills alright?" He sighs, before aligning the tip of his cock with your already sensitive cunt, causing you to shiver.

One of his hands holds your waist, while the other grips your ass, slapping it twice and kneading the soft flesh, before he starts pushing more and more of his dick inside you, grunting every time your walls pulse around him.

You're holding back tears from how painful it was feeling, biting down on your lip hard enough to draw some blood. He notices how tense you are, massaging the small of your back, "Relax, it's going to be worse if you're tensed up, brat." His grip tightened against your hip, and just when he was almost inside you, he bottomed out, pulling your hips to meet his torso, eliciting a loud cry from you, and a drawled out grunt from him.

*"Fuck you're so tight" He moans, throwing his head back, giving you a moment to adjust to his length, tears spilling from your eyes. Carefully, he starts moving. You lean your head back, your jaw dropping open and a moan leaving your throat. The way his cock stretches your walls out, pain and pleasure are mixed together, "'s to big sukuna!" He ignores your cries, gripping tightly against your hit as he starts to pick up his pace, the pain slowly turning into a pleasurable feeling.

He pulls back totally, leaving only the tip inside your cunt before ramming inside. You cry out with pleasure, clenching your walls around his cock as he thrusts in and out of your pussy with no mercy. His hand which was previously gripping your waist grabs your left tit, groping and pawing at it, pinching the nipple over and over again. The bed shakes underneath you and sounds of skin slapping against each other resonate in the room. The scene was so lewd, your pussy making squelching sounds every time he thrusts a little harder, hitting the sweet spot within you.

Every so often the squelching nosies of your pussy can be heard as Sukuna thrusts his cock inside of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth gaping open as loud moans and whimpers leave your throat. He was too rough, too rough to be your first time, but there was this thrill you got every time he bullied past your walls, hitting deep inside you.

He grunts, his fingers trailing up your back and to the nape of your neck, before he grips it hard, pulling you back so that your back was against his chest. His hand now held your throat from the front, and the new angle made you feel that he was inside your stomach, thrusting harder and harder.

Sukuna watches as his cock slides in and out of you, filling you up with pleasure. Sinful whimpers and cries leave your throat, strained from the hand wrapped around your throat. He could get used to the scene, watching how your tits bounced up and down with every mean thrust of his, how your hands desperately tried to find something to grab a hold of. Oh how he loved this.

You moan, feeling your mind shut from the pleasure, and how strongly the feeling of pleasure was creeping up. You were going to come again, "Sukuna ah- ah shit! I'm- I'm gonna come!"

"Not yet" He grunts, breath fanning over your ear as his thrusts become sloppier, "Not yet" his words are drawled out, "Gonna fill you up, yeah, take it like the good whore you are mhm?" He whispers, licking your ear and nearly sending you over the edge, "Sukuna pl-please! I-I need to-" "Shit- fuck, cum on my dick then" You felt hot, sticky ropes of his cum filling you up, as he thrusts once more, feeling everything empty out in you.

It's a lot, oozing out from your sore, abused cunt. The two of you pant heavily, His fingertips give your throat a light squeeze as he starts to roll his hips back, and you drop to the mattress, feeling more than euphoric, stars, moons, the entire universe clouding your thoughts. You were on cloud 9, even though your core was still shaking, even if he had fucked his cum deep inside you. It didn't matter, it was all too ecstatic, the daze you felt better than any high anyone could have ever experienced. You heard him chuckle, feeling his hands press on your worn out and shaky thighs, almost as if massaging the sore muscles.

It's bad to set expectations from him though, because all he did was use his thumb to collect his cum that leaked out of your hole to your thighs, pushing it all back inside. Giving your ass one last slap he stood up, and got dressed in just his sweatpants, and just then, you heard your name being called.

Your eyes widen as you realise who it was, turning around to see Yuji standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and an expression of disgust on his face.

"Get out you measly brat" Sukuna groaned, pushing his hair back before slamming the door in poor Yuji's face.

This just got a lot awkward, didn't it?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna jjk #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk ryomen

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kiyokothehuman · 6 months

Text

Queen of Inarizaki

pairing: inarizaki x manager!reader

summary: calming your children w kita being a dad 🙏

a/n: bye my haikyu phase is coming back gg i sobbed when i read the manga

After a long day of refilling water bottles, taking notes, keeping track of what's happening, and tending to your dear volleyball obsessed idiots – It's safe to say you were exhausted.

You set your clipboard aside on a nearby bench before placing a hand on your hip, examining the chaos before you.

The two blonde and grey haired second years bickering over the pettiest things, Suna taking pictures for 'documentary purposes' and a tired Aran desperately trying to keep the situation under control.

"Those two.." You muttered, marching over your way to them. Hitoshi shot Suna an anxious glance, as if to warn him on the menace that's about to be set free in a couple of seconds.

The twins continued arguing with each other, not noticing the figure slowly approaching them.

"This would've been avoided if you just–"

"Just what!? Shut yer trap!"

"You two, listen–" Aran tried to speak up before he was cut off by a gentle hand placed on his shoulder. He gulped down, slowly turning to his side seeing the expression on your face, the complete opposite of gentle.

"I'll take it from here," you tilted your head, a passive aggressive smile encasing your lips while an intimidating aura surrounded you.

"Oh!? So the great and amazing Atsumu can't–"

The grey haired twin paused mid sentence, before realizing the situation he was in. You towered over them, arms crossed and a vein popping out of your forehead – A clear indication that you were absolutely pissed.

"Atsumu and Osamu Miya."

The Miya twins immediately stopped whatever they were doing and turned their full attention towards you.

"I said to pack up your things, but here you arguing like literal children!"

You yelled, your hands pinching their ears before making their heads crash against each other. "Ow, ow, ow! Y/N-senpai–" Atsumu rubbed the back of his head.

"Is that clear?" You questioned, pulling the two boys up by the back of their shirt.

"Y-yes, ma'am.." They muttered, a satisfied smile appeared on your face, letting go of them. Suna was stifling a laugh, making Atsumu shoot a glare at him.

"Suna, you're involved in this too!" He froze, dropping his sly smirk. You harshly pinched his cheek before letting go after hearing him yelp out a small grunt. Now it was the twins turn to laugh.

"I told you to go help me clean up the gym, not stand there like an idiot. Don't give me that attitude!" You scolded, urging him to start working.

Sighing, you put a hand to your forehead muttering, "It's only been 5 minutes since I was gone.."

—

Bonus!

Once again, you were greeted at the sight of the twins yelling insults at each other. Everyone in the team was seated at Onigiri Miya for their high school reunion., but they all seemed so..different. Although it's as if nothing changed after hearing them argue.

"Atsumu, Osamu! Shut your damn mouth!" You scolded, while an anxious Aran tried to calm you down.

Kita fought back a chuckle as he lazily rested an arm on your chair. "Still the same after so many years." He muttered, earning a glare from you.

You — No, everyone was still the same. Even if we've all went our separate ways; some abroad, some working, or some continuing to play volleyball, we were all still the same people who coincidentally just went to the same high school at the same time.

Everyone might seem different somehow, but sitting together and talking like the old days makes it seem as if we're back in the past.

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #miya osamu #osamu x reader #kita shinsuke #kita x reader #suna rinatro #suna x reader #hq #hq x reader #hq x y/n #haikyu x you #haikyu x y/n #hq x you #aran ojiro #inarizaki #≡;- ꒰ °Kiyoko Writes ꒱

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thefriendlyferretwriter · 7 days

Text

Weasel

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!F!Reader

Summary: A back and forth with the infamous Fred Weasley sends the two nemeses into a back-and-forth that lands them in detention, where both their frustration and anger send them into a deep argument full of insults, tension, and revelations.

Warning: LONG, 8k words, lots of scene cuts becuz a LOT happens, rivals to lovers (not really, Fred's obsessed with reader and is a little shit), boy pulls on the pigtails of the girl he claims he dislike type trope, was forced to give reader at least a last name, same for her best friend ( went with one of the most generic name Tiffany), Fred being a little shit, argument, tension, reader is unhinged

A/N: Fun fact about this fic it almost included a Pygmy Puff before I checked and discovered that they were created by the twins for their shop and since they are still students I had to go and swap it up with a baby puffskein. No idea how to describe that fic, there will definitely be multiple parts, enjoy!

There are no other places like Hogwarts.

The scenery, the castle's secrets, and the yearly competition between houses are something to behold.

But what might be icing on the cake is the library. The place where I can lose track of time all the while learning about the magical world.

The library has a hush rule but you can't help the coughs, the few ink pots falling to the ground, or even the giggles here and there but it doesn't bother me one bit, it even helps me focus as I enjoy yet one more day in the castle.

"Hi there Raven."

And there goes my enjoyment.

With a roll of my eye, I direct them toward the annoying voice belonging to none other than Fred Weasley who stands there with his satchel on his side leaning against one of the book-filled shelves.

"Weasel," I acknowledge him with a sigh looking back down at my page.

"Weasley," he corrects drily.

I brush him off as I finish my inked sentence and wait for it to dry before turning the page and asking him what he's doing here.

He leans on the table by his hip and crosses his arms inclining his head towards me, "What is it to you?"

"You being here is a bad omen so either you're here to sell your stupid stuff to the first years," I say glancing at his sachel for a second before looking back down at my work, "Or it involves annoying me and I'm having a good day to waste it dealing with you today."

I don't look at him and instead focus on my next sentence when I hear some shuffling and a piece of rolled-up parchment drops next to me that I recognize all too well.

"You must be kidding me," I groan snatching the parchment from the table.

"Unfortunately no. McGonagall benched me and said that if I wanted to stay on the quidditch team I needed a tutor."

His speech makes me groan as the lines reiterate his rant in a distinguished manner and is signed at the bottom by Professor Flitwick.

"McGonagall sent me to Flitwick who recommended you. Said you needed tutoring on your record."

I let go of the paper and join my hands together placing my thumbs on the base of my nose to try and diminish the incoming headache.

"Soo," he draws out attracting my gaze, "See you later, I'll be waiting for your owl."

I see him walking backward, all cocky as he dares to wink at me before turning around and descending the spiral stairs.

I audibly scoff and slam my notebook closed.

Yet another day ruined by that damn Weasel.

"He's a pest."

"You're exaggerating again," she laughs at me standing up from her seat.

"No, I'm not!" I say shoving the last book in my bag as class just ended, "He's obnoxious and annoying and a nuisance to my peace," I stand up and follow right after her.

It's been a few days since my unfortunate meeting with the least likable Weasley in the library and the meeting with Professor Flitwick and McGonagall this early morning couldn't have gotten any worse since no amount of pleading on my part could get them not to assign me with him. As a supplement I had the redhead walk in on me pleading which had him reveling at my misery digging me into a deeper foul mood.

"He's a funny guy that sometimes goes too far," she says pushing a chair that wasn't tucked under its assigned table.

"He's the bane of my existence," I say full of venom.

She laughs walking toward the classroom's exit," That's romantic."

"No, saying someone is the bane of your existence isn't romantic."

"I'm sure you could turn it into something romantic, like a poem or a book about forbidden love," she daydream walking through the door.

"You read too many romance books," I say stepping outside the classroom when I freeze and feel like I'm going underwater as my body is iced out for a moment.

It feels as if I've been hit with glacius but I'm able to use my voice and squeal in shock as the feeling subsides and I'm brought back from my shock by two giggles.

I see two first-year Gryffindors laughing nervously before they simultaneously decide to run away, one of them letting loose on her wand that was levitating the bucket letting it fall on the ground with a loud clash.

I'm left in the middle of the open hallway surrounded by classmates who just exited their class.

The wind hits me and I feel my body shiver before I look up at my friend whose mouth is covered by her hands in surprise.

I hear it.

The annoying infuriating sound of distant laughter, one I cannot mistake for another.

My eyes zero on him sitting on the transfiguration courtyard's tree clutching his stomach as he laughs balancing himself on the branch.

"You were saying?" I ask her rhetorically still dripping in the pink-colored jelly-like liquid.

She lowers her hands and approaches me slowly trying to wipe my face.

I feel the bubbling of rage making its way up my throat with my breathing taking up seeing him seated up there on the branch looking like a king sitting upon the throne of his buffoonery surrounded by his brainless friends, or rather, George's brainless friends and it makes me snap.

I push her hand away and stomp my way through the hallway onto the courtyard's grass toward him.

"Weasley!" I yell as I march to him.

"Oh, now she remembers my name," he laughs out loud for his twin and his friends to hear as the number of students stopping by increases.

He slides off the branch with ease and starts strutting to me with this damn cocky smile.

George stands up from his leaning stance on the tree, "Fred," he says.

I don't know if it's a warning or a scolding but his intent doesn't matter to me.

My hearing is replaced with the beats of my heart drumming in my ears as my face feels as hot as lava.

My steps get bigger and bigger and the closer his infuriating smirk approaches, the rage escapes me as my hand swings back and closes into a fist before landing in his face mid-step.

The audible hit is met with a groan and while I'm far too small to send him to the ground with a punch it does send him swaying back and hunching over.

In a second George jogs to his twin and hands him support grabbing his elbow as Fred's groan turns into another one of his annoying chuckles.

"You see how she hit me?!" he shouts looking delighted by the situation before he lays his gaze back on me with a bit of blood on his teeth.

His smirk falls and I believe for a moment that I finally did it, I finally managed to instate fear in this jackass before I realize his gaze moved from my frame to someone behind me.

The buzzing in my ears ceases and my hearing comes back to me as the grass crunches under one's weight indicating someone approaching.

A cold sweat travels through my body when I turn around and spot none other than Professor Hooch standing tall in front of us.

By instinct, I take a step back and bump into Fred before jumping aside as if he burnt me which isn't far off as my knuckles are calling out for help burning and tingling from the impact it had on his cheek.

She sends us both one of her infamous hawk looks that could petrify Dumbledor himself, "I presume that display of violence can be explained by your appearance?" her pointed look is directed at me.

I try to wipe the substance off my hair with an annoyed huff.

Her eyes travel to Fred whose head is pointed down grabbing his chin and messing with his mouth moving his jaw from side to side.

"That rewards the both of you with an hour's detention," that answer makes him groan and I point at him with outrage.

"But he-!" My disbelief doesn't reach her before she cuts me off.

"You're both dismissed. Mr.Weasley, I advise you to escort your brother to the infirmary to tend to his injury. As for you, I advise you to go clean yourself up before heading to the infirmary as well, perhaps at a time Mr.Weasley won't be there," she finishes her sentence looking at George who acknowledges her insinuation with a nod.

Still clutching his jaw, Fred is led away by his elbow by George as Hooch walks to stand in front of me, "While I understand your frustration I did expect better from you than violence."

My eyes widen and the breath I take in is cut off, "He-"

"This isn't about Mr.Weasley's childish behavior, he will receive his punishment either way. What disappoints me is that you could've avoided any punishment by reporting this to me or any other professor in the area but instead, you will ecope of an hour's detention as well."

She says shaking her head as she walks away leaving me standing here in the courtyard covered in the substance and an aching fist that doesn't even feel satisfying knowing it didn't teach the jerk anything.

"Why is it so windy today?! I thought it was supposed to be sunny!" I complain trying to be louder than the wind.

"No it's supposed to switch all day, look," my friend says motioning to the daily prophet in her hands bringing the paper closer to my face so I can see the weather section indeed announcing an insufferable change of weather all day.

"You can still spot the puddles from the rain earlier," Luna Lovegood points to the Quidditch pitch where the grass is still two shades darker and the random puddles of water stir with strength from the wind blowing.

My venting is interrupted by a loud collision that sends me twisting around back to the pitch to see Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teammates fighting over the quaffle like rabid dogs in what is supposed to be an amicable match as a form of training.

"Remind me again what's the point of an amicable match if there is no amicability?" I ask turning to face them just to miss the apparent goal from a Gryffindor through one of the Ravenclaw's lowest hoops.

I groan when I recognize the face of the person who managed to pass our defenses as he basks in the small victory.

"What is it raven?! Can't take in the sigh of greatness?!" he gloats seated comfortably on his broom with his red hair all tussled.

His pretentiousness blinds him and his arrogance leaves him to ignore the whistle suggesting the match continues and leaves a fellow Ravenclaw to score in a flash right behind him. The only indicator that anything happened at all is the small thunder of applause and shouts of approval coming from the small gathering of students who decided to kill time and participate in the amicable match to cheer each team on.

His head whips around and the sight of the opposite team scoring sends him tilting his head back with a groan that he tries to conceal but it doesn't escape anyone's notice.

The karma is enough but it is so rare to catch the weasel in one of his life life-learning moments that I don't hesitate before deciding that I need to add my little grain of salt to the wound.

I have it, I have the perfect response to give him right on the tip of my tongue and I wonder for a second if the smirk grazing my lips isn't a giveaway but my witty taunt is stopped when a broom enters my line of vision.

"See?! I told you your presence would do me good. Look at that, bullseye!"

I'm sure he means no harm, I know him to be humble but the poor lad either didn't see Weasley or simply decided to ignore his presence.

The fact that he is being ignored after being wrecked is sickly satisfying and my smirk manages to widen somehow.

It is clear he simply didn't see Fred as this one's scowl sends him silently flying away in an awkward, one-sided staredown that ends with him glancing at me with an uncomfortable wide-eyed stare, silently asking for help.

I stare at him flying further and further away and only look back when I notice George approaching his twin on his broom.

His frustration is clear and the eye roll along with his head thrown back pleases me a great deal.

The devilish idea is too good and it doesn't take a lot of self-convincing before I fall for temptation.

"What is it Weasel, too busy drowning in your own ego you can't pay attention?!" I shout so my sickly honeyed voice reaches him and George as I tuck my now pastel pink hair behind my ears.

'The concoction should last less than a week. This Flemont Potter was a genius!' nurse Pomfrey said.

The scowl adorning his face fills me with warmth and electricity buzzes through my veins knowing I have the last word for once.

"Nice hair," he tries himself at a desperate dig that does not work as Professor Hooch whistles for him to fly back to the match.

Turning his back to me, he flies back to the center of the field I can't help but laugh realizing that it's the first time he turns his back to me without walking away with the last word.

The whistle is blown and the speed at which each team goes at the other's throat could cause whiplash if one wasn't used to it.

I'm focused on a group of players when my peripheral vision drags my eyes to my friend throwing the quaffle with all his strength leaving another small group of three players to speed away.

Taking a moment to take in his throw he looks back down and waves at me with a smile, satisfied with his play.

I wave back with a grin of my own before he disappears out of my sight as a bludger hits him straight in the back of the head with a resounding thunk throwing him off his broom and crashing to the ground.

I hear a loud yell and realize it comes from me as my body instinctively reacts and bolts toward the pitch.

Professor Hooch is already by his side by the time I run to his limp self.

"Is he okay?!" I get caught off guard by my friend reaching him and kneeling at his side before I do.

I stand there looking down at him in shock as people start surrounding the area trying to take a look at the wounded on the ground when I notice the Gryffindor team lowering themselves on the ground including the culprit.

His quidditch robe swings with each one of his steps as he walks towards the commotion very slowly like in a trance.

"You too bring a stretcher," she says shooing away both a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw player.

I hear George Weasley calling after his brother who has now reached Professor Hooch kneeling on the ground

"Is he okay?"

How dare he. His filthy meek voice asking about his well-being as if he isn't the reason my friend is lying unresponsive on the ground.

That familiar boiling sensation in my chest rises again and I feel my fists clenching by themselves.

Before I can comprehend my thought process I am bolting toward him. Still, before I can reach him George jumps in front of him getting ready for whatever, a whatever that does not come as I am held up by the waist by two Gryffindor players sensing the hostility.

"What is wrong with you!" I holler up in the air struggling with all my might against the hold of the chasers which is useless against the player's strength.

The rest is a blur, George pushes the douche towards the locker room as I follow the stretcher closely to the infirmary.

"If you stare any harder you're gonna be the first third year student here to achieve wandless magic," she chuckles "It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. back down at her textbook.

"False," I utter not leaving the weasel out of my burning stare.

I notice her raising her head from my side view in wonder.

"Granger," I state chewing on my thumb's fingernail.

The sight of him simply sitting there without any consequences under the excuse of 'it's part of the game, nobody can prove there were any malicious intents behind that strike' drives me mad and haunts my head with multiple scenarios of murder that keep replaying again and again.

"You have to let it go. Pomfresh said he'll be fine."

"He didn't deserve that strike it was targeted to piss me off because I got the last word," I say wincing when I realize I bit my thumb a bit too hard and drew some blood.

"It's part of Quidditch, many, many people took strikes to the head."

"Bullshit. A strike to the head during an amicable match? Come on," I roll my eyes frustrated that everybody seems so eager to just brush this incident off.

"I'm gonna start thinking you're checking him out and not actually glaring at him."

"Have you lost your mind?!" I say louder than intended, my head whipping left to glare at her this time.

There is no silence as the Care for the Magical Creature class takes place outside and the lack of chatter is covered up by the sound of wind rustling the nearest tree's leaves and the distant purrs and grumbles of the different creatures in their pen.

"Is there a problem?"

Unlike McGonagall or Snape, Professor Hagrid's tone of voice isn't accusatory but genuinely one of concern. This concern eats at me as the idea that he might believe even for a moment that my words are targeted towards him makes bile rise in my throat.

"No!" is my immediate response to reassure the professor but the rest of my explanation seems to be stuck in my throat as I have a hard time imagining myself explaining to the class that I was just defending myself at the mention of me hypothetically checking Weasley out.

That same person here in the open classroom with a side smirk plastered on his annoying face trying his best not to laugh at me, not because it would be rude but because not laughing at the right time alongside the rest of the class wouldn't be as satisfying as a full-on public humiliation.

I see Hagrid lowering his chalk and I can already foresight him asking what he might have done wrong which is not something you want to ask as a teacher in front of a bunch of ruthless teenagers.

His other hand joins in on the other starting to mess with his chalk making him appear anxious and way less mighty.

The awkwardness doesn't begin to measure to the remorse of having put him in this situation because of my impulsive nature.

"It's my fault!" my friend shouts in my defense.

Looking at her, Tiffany managed to snatch up a baby puffskein and hold it up to Hagrid's sight.

"I put him in her hair and she was afraid he would do a pooh."

The laughs are inevitable but I'm certain the 'do a pooh' will haunt my nightmare.

The mocking is a harmony of taunting and I can only look beside me to glare at her sitting there with the puffskein in hand as I wish he would just 'do a pooh' in her hands this instant.

At least Professor Hagrid seems reassured, smiles as the misunderstanding is cleared up, and turns back around to continue the lesson.

We're sent to different enclosures containing different creatures and are instructed to feed them to create a bond.

"Look at him acting casual as if he didn't send someone to the infirmary with a trauma to the head," I say full of venom seeing him being buddy-buddy with another Gryffindor girl as they try to feed Mooncalf in the open and have a laugh as they are surrounded by the eager herd starving for pets and seeds.

"Will you quit it and enjoy one of the only course that's relaxing here," she scolds kneeling closer to the ground to feed a diricawl who nibs at her finger affectionately before walking past her hand and pitter-pattering to her to lay his head on her chest to receive pats on his head.

"Plus you've already been told we can't know if the blow was on purpose."

"That's a load of bullshit and you know it, he's one of the best beaters here," I say with a pointed look at her throwing a violent handful of seeds towards the rest of the diricawls.

"Did I just hear you compliment Fred Weasley?" she says looking up at me with a teasing smile.

"It's not a compliment I'm just stating a fact, the probability of Weasley hitting someone right on the head by accident at such distance is close to none," I say throwing another handful as my eyes catch a paddock with dubogs in it, one in particular who is devouring the weasel with his bulgy eyes.

There are three dubogs in the small paddock and two of them are cooling off in the dirty pond uninterested in anything else but sunbathing with only their eyes above the murky water blinking one at a time as the third one is eating up Weasley with his eyes.

A devilish idea makes its way into my head. The opening I get is served to me on a gold platter as Tiffany is distracted by the herd of diricawl overtaking her landing her on the ground, surrounded.

My chance is heightened by Weasley's back turned to me talking with his little girlfriend.

I take my chance disregarding any rational thought invading my head. Sneakily climbing over the fence, I crouch and walk toward the desired enclosure. The creature doesn't seem to sense me approaching and if he does he doesn't seem to care one bit licking his eye and pawing the ground with his hind leg.

A part of me wishes I could egg him on and ask him if he wants to nibble on the Weasel's ankles but I'd rather not throw my plan out of the window. Instead, I carefully slide my arm to the latch and pull on it slowly to make sure not to make any noise before giving the door a small push to create the crack that seems to be enough to throw the creature out for a jog as he crashes against the paddock's door.

I don't get to see the seconds before the disaster as I have to hurry back and jump over the fence once again, running back to my friend and free her from the diricawl's clutches giving her a hand and raising her back up as the show starts.

The screams that grace my ears aren't from fear but more from shock as the tall redhead lands on the ground when I finally get to lay my eyes on him. The dubog licks him from bottom to top with the creature's natural dirt and slimey skin rubbing off on him as his Gryffindor girlfriend screeches for help calling for Professor Hagrid who runs up to help in a flash.

The man's height isn't only impressive and intimidating but also a great advantage to grab the massive creature off and drag it back to its enclosure where the other two are still sunk in the water, sunbathing and behaving.

Once shut close, Professor Hagrid grips the wooden bars of the enclosure to gather himself before turning around and helping Weasley up with just one hand gripping the back of his blouse. While he seems shaken up by the encounter, he tries to rub off some of the mud on his face but only manages to smear it looking around at the rest of us.

The reactions vary, some are as shocked as he is and others shrug off their worries and are now laughing at his appearance now that they've established that he is healthy and no longer in danger.

I myself giggle knowing that while I can't get him punished for his action back on the pitch, I get to watch him look like a fool and even up the score. My friend does not agree and lets me know by elbowing me in the ribs making me groan mixing laughter and painful grunts.

Laughter that is spotted by the redhead when his head whips to me before his eyes light up.

His eyes shift from eureka to burning hatred. Shrugging off the hand of his friend trying to tidy him up and storms in my direction.

"It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. The confrontation is cut short when Hagrid once again showcases his immeasurable strength by yanking the weasel back with a tug on his now mostly white blouse and throwing him behind his eleven-foot frame that stands now right in front of me.

"Enough with the both of you!" his voice booms in the open area.

He takes a step back and I can get a peak at the redhead enough to see him huffing and puffing from being thrown around like a doll.

"This is a classroom, not a pub. Now the both of you will walk all the way up to Professor McGonagall's office and explain exactly why I had to send the both of you to her and she will be the one to give you your punishment!"

I look at him now, hair disheveled and his tie undone covered in dirt and mud and slime. He still looks somewhat decent as he pushes his hair back with a huff.

I must look just as messy with my pink hair having been thrown on the ground and I decide to tug at the end of my own blouse trying to tidy myself up and avoid any more wrinkles on it.

"Miss Granger, please accompany those two, you know what to do if they misbehave."

"She tried to kill me!" Fred yells pointing at me.

"Do you have any proof, Mr.Weasley?"

He seems to hesitate for less than a second before motioning to me with his hand in frustration.

"It's logical thinking, she hates my gut and she's crazy!"

"You jerk-!" I bellow throwing myself in his direction before I'm engulfed in the Professor's arms.

"Enough!" He yells once more letting me go only when I stop fidgeting in his hold.

"There is no way of proving the Miss did anything. This paddock's lock has been faulty for a while and after this incident, I will personally see that it is dealt with."

He says as if he was addressing the whole class who is still standing all around us watching the event unfold.

"As for the both of you, you will do as you're told and let Miss.Granger accompany the both of you back to the castle and receive the punishment the both of you deserve for the waste of both my time and your classmates' time."

The tone is harsh and the decision is final.

"I am very disappointed in the both of you. You're worth so much more than this petty rivalry," the man shakes his head walking away.

Those words seem to have the same result on both of us. We look down a bit ashamed before we are ushered away by Hermione as we start the long and silent journey back to the castle.

We both stand in silence, side by side with yet a respectable distance as the two professors stand in front of us with judgmental stares that don't need any words to transcribe their distaste…or is it disappointment?

We were sent to our respective bathrooms to clean up 'as best as you can' while my request to wash off completely was denied by both teachers and so here I stand with the back of my blouse tainted by dirt as Weasley could barely wash the slimy texture out of his own blouse and barely dry it with what I believe might have been a spell.

And so here he stands looking dirtier than me despite the order to clean up.

"Now that the awful stench has been managed I believe a proper punishment is in order," McGonagall says with her hands joined in front of her.

"I agree, my cauldrons are in dire need of a scrub," Snape says with his usual disinterested tone.

Weasley starts protesting and claims that I should receive a harsher punishment for my so-called actions.

"She tried to kill me!" he protests.

"And as I told you Mr.Weasley there is no way for us to possibly prove this claim as Professor Hagrid did not see any of this unravel."

"Just like no one saw you throw that bulger." I bite under my breath.

"Exactly Miss.Hermlock. And I would suggest you speak with your full chest if you have any objection." Mc.Gonagall drily berates me.

"Snape-Professor Snape," he quickly corrects himself, "said multiple times that in such cases veritaserum should be used, and since she's SO confident saying she didn't do anything she won't mind doing this, won't she," he says towering over my side.

"I've always known you were a moron but I never thought you would outdo yourself in front of teachers," I smirk crossing my arms.

"Mr.Weasley, even with Miss.Hermlock's permission, the usage of such beverage on a student is forbidden. I would've hoped that with a father working for the ministry, you out of all of us would remember that."

My smirk doubles in size which I thought would never be possible.

In the end, my smirk is wiped away when we are both awarded two hours of detention with Snape. And as if it wasn't enough the punishment is cleaning the endless potion class's cauldrons.

We're ordered to go clean up, thoroughly this time and go for lunch before being expected in the dungeons for our detention hours.

We arrive at the same time just as the last student exits the class, we are left standing side by side, or more precisely 3 feet away from each other as we walk in right in front of Snape's office where he is seated with his head down to his paper purposely stalling and letting us stand there in awkward silence.

What must've been minutes feel like hours as I try my best not to side-eye the redhead standing silently beside me.

I wonder if I should've refrained from opening that damn pen when I hear those continuous scraping of pen meant to insult us as the dark-haired teacher ignore our presence.

He finally puts his feather back in its inkwell before he stands resting both his hands on his desk, "I believe I don't have to remind you what you need to do during those two hours of detention."

Neither of us answers and that seems to egg him on to stand straight and walk around his desk to stand right in front of us, his hands placed behind him.

"You two will clean every single cauldron here, I made sure none of my classes cleaned their equipment to make sure the lesson will stick and you won't have to keep me company again on such a fine day," he says bending to my height and looking straight into my eyes for just a moment before moving his sight onto Weasley, "At least one of you will learn."

Standing back up his speech is interrupted by strong stomps getting closer.

Turning around, the three of us look towards the class's entrance as we spot for a single second a figure sliding across the entrance and disappearing with a loud thud that sounds painful.

It is the first time I make eye contact with the weasel since the last time we butted heads and it is to share a sour scrunched-up expression for the victim of the fall who we hear grunting in the hallway before the sound of their footsteps echoes once more and we see the face of the one who rushed here most likely to speak to Snape.

He's bent over leaning on the door out of breath.

"Berkshire, if you're done fooling around you may grace us with an explanation as to why you're disturbing this detention."

Still out of breath, Enzo Berkshire huffs and puffs for a few more seconds before settling down still bent over.

"It's Nott," he exhales deeply before breathing in once more, "He and Wood started a brawl between quidditch teams, Hooch told me to come get you."

Turning back to the teacher, his eye roll is noticeable and his silence is an obvious assessment of the situation as he probably is planning what to do now that he is torn between us two and the alleged brawl.

"Alright, As the head teacher of house Slytherin, I will accompany Berkshire and assist Professor Hooch in this conflict."

He points to us, "As for the two of you. You will stay here and complete your detention without any complaints. If you leave before your time is up, I will know and that will reward you an entire week of detention."

Pointing at Berkshire, Snape walks past us and orders him to lead them away and with a flick of his wand makes it known that it is thanks to that maneuver that he'll know of us potentially leaving the classroom.

"Behave." is all he says before walking right behind a speeding Enzo Berkshire.

I wonder if he was referring to the both of us or maybe just Weasley.

I don't get to ponder on that before my thoughts are drawn elsewhere at the realization that my worst nightmare is unfolding before me, I am now stuck with the most insufferable student here for two hours doing the most aggravating task besides cleaning the house bathrooms.

I only get back to reality when I hear him throw his robe and satchel on a nearby station.

Being left alone with him, the task at hand, and the absence of Snape to muzzle the redhead angers me as I frop my own bag and stomp to one of the sinks filled to the brim with dirty cauldrons.

I don't even get to enjoy a full minute of tense peace as the douchebag starts his usual yapping.

"Can't say I'm surprised he would leave me alone with you, Snape has always hated me and it's no wonder he left me with you considering you tried to kill me," he mouths off as always lifting a cauldron from its stove and piling it on top of another one.

"And yet you're still breathing, what a shame." I roll my eyes as well as my sleeves picking up a scraper.

A moment of silence passes and I pray this is the moment he realizes he needs to shut up so we can endure the rest of this detention in mild peace but alas this is a good idea and everyone knows that Frederick Weasley never had one of those in his life.

"Damn. The sorting hat must've made a mistake, maybe you belong with the other psychopaths in Slytherin." He throws both cauldrons beside the filled sink with a loud clang.

"I'm sorry but I'm not the one cladding the scales." I bite back.

"Oh, she has claws," he draws out loudly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask genuinely turning around to face him.

"No, the question is what is wrong with you," He asks back louder.

"Nothing is wrong with me! You're the one who can't figure out when to stop, you're the one who always goes too far and you're the one who went too far once again, so much so that you ended up sending my friend to the infirmary!" I hurl and see him losing that fire that usually overtakes his pupils showing he enjoys egging on people once they are set off.

"It's the risk when you play Quidditch," he tries and fails to sound firm in his statement making me scoff.

"For Rowena's sake, you're still acting as if you didn't purposely throw that bulger at him!" I say running my hands through my hair in frustration.

"I didn't!" he says even less believable.

Done with his excuses I turn back around to give all my attention back to the dirty cauldrons when he manages to slide between me and the sink making me take a huge step back.

"I didn't mean to throw it that hard."

I stare at him, no, I glare at him feeling the urge to punch him again but I remember that it didn't do anything for me the last time and instead opt to let out my frustration by hollering at him and walking away before I make the mistake of punching him and have a Professor magically appear out of nowhere to give me more detention again.

Even when I think I finally win and have him admit to his wrongs he still finds a way to make excuses for himself.

"What were you expecting?! I'm a beater that's what we do!"

Does he really think I don't know what a bloody beater is?!

Is he trying to make me pass off as an emotional wreck because of my appropriate reaction to such injury during a supposed amicable match?!

Any beater whether amateur or professional could agree that either maliciously or not that throw was unwarranted during training.

"There really is something wrong with you," I walk right in front of him, toe to toe, and spite my statement right in his face pushing him aside to gain back access to the sink.

I start scrubbing as my mind throws all the different reasons I despise the fucker. Irresponsible, unfunny, no compassion.

I'm so lost in my spiteful analysis of him that I don't register that my thoughts aren't my own anymore as I unconsciously start rambling out loud.

"An idiot who doesn't even think before taking people down with him," I grumble scrubbing away.

"Come on now it's not like he's dead," He nips throwing down yet another pile of small cauldrons beside me.

"I'm talking about me!" I yell letting go of my current task and letting the pot fall and clang with another one causing a ruckus in the sink.

"Not only is my friend in the infirmary because of you but I'm also stuck with you trying to teach someone who I learned has never been slacking in muggle history before recently."

His jaw slacks open and his eyes double in size like the breakfast sausages I had this morning.

"Wait a minute. You think I'm doing this on purpose?!"

You do everything on purpose! Your dad works for the ministry, he is a Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office employee dammit! If anyone is an expert at muggle stuff it's your dad!" I say as a matter of fact.

"And tell me exactly what would it bring me to purposely be bad at this subject all of a sudden?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe to annoy me more often than usual." it sounds like a question but I know I'm just clarifying the situation.

"You think I'm gonna waste my days stuck with you in the library acting dumb for fun?" he tries to ask sarcastically.

"And why not? Beside the library part isn't that what you do all day anyways?"

The quick wit seems like it struck him as he scoffs with a broad smile.

"If you want to be a failure for the rest of your life go ahead and be my guest but I'll ask you not to take me down with you."

That same disbelief smile disappears and leaves place for a blank look that doesn't often grace his face.

"Unlike what you think, success doesn't necessarily come from academic prowesses." he tries to bite.

"Obviously not when it comes to you." I mock before turning back around feeling satisfied for getting him not once but twice in a row.

The triumphant silence doesn't last long before he dwells in a monologue that I don't bother listening to. Instead, I tune him out and start scrubbing which helps to cover the annoying sound of his voice.

His speech feels like hours long but is probably just a few minutes tangent as by the time my ears recognize his next sentence I'm only done with the first cauldron.

"-With such a nasty attitude it's no wonder Murphy didn't show up to your date."

The cauldron clashes with another as I let it fall back into the abnormally huge sink before turning my head toward the nuisance of my life.

"How do you know about that?" the voice that comes out of my mouth is one I don't recognize.

He pauses and seems to hesitate.

"Heard Katie talk about it to her friend."

"I never said anything about it to Katie, 'matter of fact I never said anything about this date to anyone ever so there's no way you heard this through gossip."

"He told me." he tries again even less believable than the first time.

"Bullshit." I seeth.

It's bluff, while I believe I might know Murphy it's not to say that he isn't just like any other guy and simply good at hiding his real intentions.

He starts ranting about some story I can tell is made up on the spot and it's like the wheels stopped turning and the lightbulb lights up in my head with such intensity that the next words come out of my mouth in a loud realization that echoes his own.

"You did this, It was you!" I accuse him with a rageful glare.

He steps back and rolls his eyes tilting his head back, "Oh my-you know what?! Yeah, I did. I warned the guy and I did well because he deserved better than to be stuck on a date with a stuck-up cunt like you." he finishes his tirade by sticking his index finger in my enraged face.

"You're fucking evil." I spit it like it's a statement everyone agrees upon watching him turn his back to me walking farther away.

My outburst is so intense that I have to take a shaky breath and keep my tears at bay as my better judgment is thrown out the window and I decide to finally pour all my frustration out.

"You know, you always take some sick pleasure in telling me I'm cold-hearted," the beginning of my speech is shakey but I quickly regain strength in my voice to let out all my poison,"But you can't even own up to your own fucking flaws and the fact that you're nothing but a jackass who use your so-called 'pranks' to harass everyone in school because they know better to be friends with an asshole like you who's only friend is his twin because no one else wants to be around you!"

My rant is over and the only noise filling the space is my heavy breathing. Catching my breath I feel hot and can barely focus on anything other than my heart beating in my ears as I feel my boiling blood travel all through my body as I stare dead into the eyes of the one who brought me to such an extent of anger.

When my heart settles and I can finally hear my breathing slow down I can focus solely on him and realize that his stare is dead.

He's not glaring, he's just looking. All trace of anger is gone and he's left staring at me or rather through me with dead eyes.

I seem to have struck a nerve and for once the guy doesn't have a comeback. Instead, I'm rewarded with the shoulder shove of a six-foot-something figure who passes me to walk to the sink and starts scrubbing away…

What the heck?

The feeling of regret invades me for a moment but is quickly replaced by one of annoyance.

Why should I feel regret? It's not like he ever feels regret for the horrible things he does. He never apologizes to anyone no matter how far he crosses the line.

The regret quickly fades and I instead let the small spot of confidence inside me grow. It's the first time I've ever shut the mouth of the biggest jerk there is, why shouldn't I enjoy it as long as it lasts?

After everything, I'm entitled to this. I'm entitled to twist the knife.

I take a first careful step and then a second, more confident one closer to him and the sink.

"Yeah, I might be a cold-hearted bitch. But you're an arrogant jackass who's not even funny." I say more calmly yet still petty.

"Oh piss off!" he shouts throwing the cauldron back into the sink with a smash that I wonder might have actually shattered or maybe chipped one of them.

I jump aside to avoid another shoulder shove and follow him with my eyesight to spot him grabbing his stuff and realize he is trying to escape this detention to avoid my lash-out.

Figuring out his plan I catch up and run past him to stand in front of the door blocking his way out.

"No! No, You called me what you called me and now I get to call you whatever I want!"

I wonder for a moment why he doesn't push past me, for sure his frame can easily overpower mine but instead of crashing into me to walk out of the potion class he instead turns around and throws both robe and satchel on a station with a shout that almost rivals mine.

"Alright then let's go ahead, get it all out of your system sweetheart." He snarls standing in the middle of the class, his arms expanded before he places them on his hips.

"You!" the bitter tone escapes me in a rough huff as I point at him, "Have done nothing but make my life hell since the day I arrived." I start walking towards him, "And for what? I have NEVER given you any reason to hate me and yet I have been the target of so many of your pranks that I started being known as the damn Weasley's guinea pig!" I throw my finger in his direction before it falls back on my sides as I walk slowly but with conviction towards him.

"There we go!" he says faking being proud probably to egg me on in my rant with a sick smirk bending down to my eye level and crossing his arms probably to toy with me and undermine me as he always does.

"You do nothing at school but be a nuisance and waste everyone's time including mine and it's so sick to think that you can't even let others be successful just because you can't achieve anything on your own, it's pathetic!" I'm getting closer, almost toe to toe with the redhead who doesn't take a step back and stays planted where he stands or rather is bent over.

"Come on let it all out," he snarls.

"But somehow I was still stupid enough to think that this time you would have the decency to at least admit you went too far and apologize for hurting my friend but even then you cannot take responsibility as always," I finish my tirade taking my final step right in front of him as our noses brush.

"Anything else?!" he angrily spits in my face with a scowl.

I breathe in harshly wishing I could punch him or clap back like I did before but realize if my rant hasn't aroused all kinds of empathy it is useless to keep calling him names it won't male a difference.

"Yeah, your attempt to make me look ugly by turning my hair pink completely failed because I still look good unlike you," I say sourly throwing a glance at his mop of hair.

He sneers.

His arms that were crossed in front of him manage to travel up and brush strands of hair behind my ears before his fingers slide down and twirl the locks in his hands toying with them.

When I'm done bathing in the hatred coating his eyes I notice I'm not the only one panting when I feel his breath brush my face.

Why is he panting? I'm the one who just rambled angrily for five minutes.

"Got it all out?" he says calmer this time around.

I look at him and my eyes make the mistake of switching between his eyes and lips just a second to see his doing just the same and analyze my face.

We haven't moved from our spot and I don't know why.

"Yeah, I think so," he whispers his lips brushing over mine with each syllable.

He stands back up, his hands leaving my hair and falling back to his side as he brushes past me leaving me to stand there frozen trying to comprehend the goosebumps littering my body and my hands shaking by my hips.

I manage to turn around and see him grabbing his stuff and making his way to the class entrance once more.

I find my voice, less confident than before but still strong enough to try and stop him.

"What are you doing detention isn't over yet!" I begrudgingly state.

"Then I guess I'll get a week's worth of detention!" he announces walking out with one hand clutching his satchel and the other one throwing his robe over his shoulder.

He's gone, and in the newly found silence, I breathe out through my nose and assess what just happened.

Weasley just mocked me, pissed me off and egged me on, undermined me, and left me in a classroom filled to the brim with cauldrons to clean all by myself after toying with my anger, my hair, and…

My hand bolts into fists and my nails sink into my palms as I conclude what I already know.

I hate him.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #ennemies to lovers #rivals to lovers

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