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kurokawaia · 24 days ago

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❛ DADZAI?? ❜

DAD!Dazai Osamu X MUM!Reader

WC: 1k+ | WARNINGS: x fem reader, reader is a mother, dazai is a father, you both have a daughter, ooc dazai? + more

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: hihihi!!! this idea has been stuck in my head for the longest time, And I absolutely love ur writing style!!!!!!!! So I’m wondering if it’s possible for you to write a dadzai x fem!reader and he has a little daughter!! Thank u!!! - ANON

m.list | bsd m.list

Dazai would be the ultimate playful dad. He'd constantly come up with games to entertain his daughter, he'd let her win every time! he doesn't love to see his little princess sad, he wants her happy all the time. No tears around here!

Dazai’s teasing extends to both you and your daughter. He’d affectionately poke fun at the little things, like when his daughter mispronounces words or when you’re caught being overly serious.

Dazai is very protective of the both of you, your his only family, your his wife, and she's his daughter. He makes sure everything is secure, he doesn't want either of you in danger, he's always looking out for the threats, especially considering what his last job was.

Dazai would constantly shower his daughter with affection, but in the most chaotic way possible. Imagine him picking her up and spinning her around until she’s dizzy with laughter, or carrying her on his shoulders >.<

After your daughter goes to bed, Dazai loves having lovey-dovey moments with you, kissing you, hugging you, teasing you, having sex with you, he loves you all.

Dazai always be thinking of spontaneous adventures to take you and your daughter on (yes he will avoid work by doing this, he's hitting two birds with one stone) loves to watch his little girl play on the playground, making sandcastles but he glares at any boys who goes up to her.

Protective Dazai! GLARES AT THE LITTLE BOYS WHO WALK UP TO HIS LITTLE PRINCESS 😭🙏🏼

Dazai’s attempts at teaching his daughter important life lessons would often be... unorthodox. He’d tell her bizarre metaphors or use strange examples... when she's older, in her teen years, she starts talking about a double suicide as well...

When his daughter comes home with school projects or arts and crafts, Dazai gets surprisingly into it. He’d help her build the most elaborate school project.

As much as he wants to shelter his daughter, Dazai also believes in giving her independence to explore the world. He trusts that with both of your guidance, she’ll grow into someone independent.

BEDTIME STORIES!! DAZAI LOVES PULLING GUNNY VOICES WHILE READING HIS PRINCESS A STORY! He’d act out characters, make exaggerated voices, and then cuddle up with her until she falls asleep, her tiny hand clutching his 🥺

Dazai and your daughter would often conspire against you in the cutest of ways, like pretending to plan a prank or plotting a surprise just to make you laugh.

Now.... Beast!Dazai as a father...

Dazai would soften in front of his daughter, would absolutely never get mad, never yell, none of that. He is incredibly protective of the both of you, almost to the point where he is paranoid because he's scared something might happen to you and his little princess.

Though he’s a feared man in the underworld, when he’s home, he’s a completely different person with his daughter. He’ll play peek-a-boo, help her chase butterflies, and allow her to style his hair (which is why he often has bows or clips in his hair when you come home)

He’s big on teaching his daughter how to read people and situations. Even from a young age, he’ll subtly point out things like body language, tone of voice, and how to trust her instincts. He wants her to be sharp and never get hurt, he doesn't want her to suffer in a world like his

Dazai spoils you both, bringing back gifts with him after missions, flowers, toys, all of that. He loves to see his girls happy.

On nights where he can’t sleep (which is often), you’ll find him in his daughter’s room, quietly watching her sleep (NOT IN A CREEPY WAY LAMFOBSOJBVLS) Sometimes, he’ll hum lullabies from his childhood to soothe himself as much as his daughter.

You are the one person who keeps Dazai grounded. While his daughter melts his heart, you provide him with emotional stability. He’ll confide in you about his fears of failing as a father, or anything, because he knows you're there to help him, to help him do teh right things, reassure him, telling him that he's doing the best.

Dazai trains his daughter in self defense. He doesn't want her involved in the mafia, he just wants her to be able to protect herself. He only does it when his pretty wifey isn't home though... he doesn't want to get scolded for you catching him teaching her how to wield and shoot a gun

Family nights every night! Dazai never knows when his last night will be so he makes you eat together, watch a movie, reading a story to his daughter every night without a fail because he chesrishes these moments so much.

Dazai isn’t big on over-the-top displays of affection in public, but when it’s just you and him, he’ll wrap his arms around you, especially when he’s feeling vulnerable. He’ll kiss your forehead or play with your hair.

Dazai would raise his daughter to be independent. He’ll often praise her when she tries to solve problems on her own, even if it’s just something as small as putting her toys away. He wants her to grow up capable, strong enough so a man doesn't need to provide for her (even if shes an adult, dazai will never approve of a man with her)

Though Dazai is laid-back around you, once his daughter starts showing affection to other male figures, whether it's an innocent crush or just bonding with a friend, he’ll get hilariously overprotective. You’d have to reassure him that his little girl isn’t going anywhere 😭🙏🏼

He has a habit of giving his daughter cute nicknames, princess, my little girl, my little princess!

Dazai occasionally fears that he won’t be a good father because of his past and the world he’s still involved in. But you remind him that he’s doing his best, and the love he has for both you and his daughter is more than enough to prove he’s a great dad.

Dazai has a hidden soft spot for his family (obviously). You often catch him staring at both of you with a soft, almost melancholic smile, as if he can’t believe he’s found something so pure and worth protecting.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

#dazai x reader #dazai fluff #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd x you #dazai x you #dadzai

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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

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How can you tell them apart? [Fred Weasley]

(Gif not by me)

Title: How can you tell them apart?

Pairing: FredWeasley x Gryffindor!reader, background Ginny x Harry.

Timeline: Non-specified, mentions of a non canonical kiss between Ginny and Harry.

Summary: Reader is the only person able to tell Fred and George apart and the twins have never known how she was able to, until one of them overhears, learning a little more than he had intended.

Warnings: a few swear words, mentions of kissing, brief angst and utter fluff. Not beta read nor spellchecked, we die like Sirius.

As always, I have used a little artistic license when it comes to the dorm accessibility between boys and girls, in order to fit the story.

"How the bloody hell can you tell them apart? Our mum can't even tell them apart!" Ron says exasperated as he flings himself down on the couch inside the Gryffindor common room, bumping clumsily into Hermione as he takes his place.

"Yeah I've been wondering the same thing..." Fred says suspiciously, moving closer to you as he fixes you with a mock glare which is juxtaposed by the glimmer in his eyes and the threat of a smirk tugging at his lips. George tails closely behind him and looks more than a little confused but happy to go along with it, a fake accusatory glare fixed on you, though it is much softer than Fred's. You fight to push down the nervous butterflies that build within you as Fred stalks darkly over to you, hovering like a looming shadow. "What can I say, it must be a gift," you shrug smugly, averting your eyes towards Hermione who looks upon you in amusement.

The twins had come down from their dorm for breakfast wearing one of their signature Weasley sweaters, emblazoned with their stitched initial on the front. You'd said nothing further than a greeting and had slipped them a knowing smirk before tucking into your breakfast. When the twin wearing the G sweater had asked for your opinion on something, you hadn't hesitated to correctly address him, much to everyone's confusion.

"I don't know Fred, maybe it's better that you leave it this week."

"Umm y/n, that's George," Ron had said wearily, with a cringe on his face at your mistake. You'd simply snorted in reply, barely looking up from your buttered toast and replied, "yeah and I'm Hermione."

"How!?" George had blurted out, outraged that you'd seen straight through their little scheme. Fred simply looked at you with a questioning gaze, trying to read your face but you had remained resolute, sitting smugly as you finished your breakfast.

Fred refuses to acknowledge your answer as an explanation and crouches down in front of the loveseat you are sat on so that you are eye level with each other. His eyes wash over your face, the suspicious look still plastered on his face as he tries desperately to search for some kind of clue.

"Try again," he whispers darkly as your eyes meet, his eyes sparkling with a dangerous glimmer. Refusing to be intimidated, you simply allow a smug smile to bloom over your face as you smile up at him innocently with doe eyes, showing him that you won't be exposing your secrets.

Not once taking his gaze off you, he bites his bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth as he often does when he's concentrating. “Georgie, I think we need to test out her gift," Fred says darkly, almost as if he's trying to call your bluff.

"Fred, I was thinking the same thing," George says ominously behind his brother as he moved and crouches down beside his slightly older twin, both of them now facing you with a dangerous look in their eye.

Much to your disappointment, Ginny had chosen that exact moment to burst through into the common room and immediately required your attention, pulling you and Hermione away from the intimidating twins and ushering you both into your shared dorm with only a questionable apology shot in the direction of her brothers at her interruption.

Once back in your dorm, Ginny immediately began retelling the story of what had just happened between her and Harry, finally kissing after years of flirting and building tension. You had almost forgot about your moment with the twins as you listened to your friend gush, so overwhelmingly pleased for her that she was finally getting the boy she had longed for, for years. "So, you seemed awfully close with my brothers back there," Ginny finally says, shooting you an accusatory glance as Hermione giggles, explaining on your behalf what had happened.

"So how can you tell them apart? I still have no clue and I'm related to them!" Ginny says, pulling the pillow beside her into her lap as she leans in slightly, intently listening to your answer.

You shrug slightly, not wanting to make it a big deal. "I don't know, there's loads of little differences between them, you just have to know what to look for."

"Like?" Ginny says, trying to bait you. You huffed out a sound that was a mixture of a laugh and a sigh, knowing there would be no escape from the questioning.

"Well, Fred has a slightly rounder face and a straighter nose than George and his eyes are a slightly different shape. He's got a scar on his left eyebrow and a little mark on his nose and George had two moles on his neck which Fred doesn't have. Fred used to be slightly taller but now it's George, not by much but it's noticeable if you're looking. Fred's hair sticks out like a flick at the end whereas George's doesn't, it sort of lies flat but with a little kink where he tucks it behind his ears when he's concentrating. Fred's slightly broader than George, like his shoulders and back are a little wider. Fred is usually always the one to speak first and then George will follow behind explaining whatever Fred has said because most of the time it's a blunt statement or an implication without any context."

You immediately felt embarrassed as your little rant had come to an end, never intending to spout out all your knowledge on the pair as Ginny and Hermione look at you with a mixture of shock and amusement.

"How much do you actually look at them?" Ginny teases, only furthering your blush.

"That's quite a list," Hermione says with a cheeky smile on her lips.

"Fine, fine thank you," you say sarcastically, trying to get them to shut up as you sit there mortified at your confession.

"So it's Fred then?" Ginny asks, making you frown in confusion. "Well most of the list was Fred this, Fred that and only a little bit of George sprinkled in. It's Fred that you like?" She's dropped her teasing tone and asks you honestly as a friend. You know that there's really no way you can deny it at this point and simply nod your head, biting your lip to hold back your smile. She immediately squealed and did a little dance on the bed at your confession.

"I mean, in the beginning I just really wanted to be able to tell them apart. I didn't want to be just like everyone else who either guessed or limped them together or ignored them because they couldn't tell, I wanted to be their friend," you shrugged gently. "The more I noticed the differences, the more I realised that it was Fred that I felt more connected to and I guess I started to get feelings for him and it's just carried on really."

"How long?" Hermione asks delicately.

"Years," you huffed out a laugh at your pathetic confession.

"But to answer your question, I can use those things to tell them apart but mainly it's just the feeling I get from Fred, like my mind knows when it's Fred and when it isn't," you shrug again. "He walks into a room and I just feel like magnetic pull like an invisible string that I don't get when it's George. Ughr I'm so pathetic." You drop your head into your hands as the realisation washes over you. The girls immediately try and comfort you but are quickly silenced by a knock on the dorm door. You each look around scandalised at who would be knocking now and you immediately feel a sinking feeling that someone might have heard your confession. Ginny goes and answers the door and awkwardly shuffles to the side at the caller steps into the room.

Fred. Shit.

You're sure you can't go any redder than you already are, wishing the bed would just swallow you up right then and there. "Just checking in on you ladies," he says but you can see his eyes shoot to you with a look you couldn't place, as if he was lying.

Ginny suddenly launches towards him and pulls at a wire hanging out of his pocket, gasping as she pulls out the extendable ear that he had clearly used to spy on your conversation.

Tears began to brim in your eyes as you thought of how much he'd heard, your whole world crashing down at the very thought. You were so painfully embarrassed you wanted to run away and sob but you were completely frozen in place, wishing it all to go away.

"Um, could I talk to y/n/n?" Fred asks shyly, running his hand through his hair. His sudden uncharacteristic shyness only fuelled your desire to cry, solidifying the idea that he was embarrassed and offended by your unwilling confession of feelings for him. He was probably mortified too that someone like you had feelings for him, no doubt either disgusted by the idea or trying to hold down his laughter at your pitiful crush.

"Y/n?" Ginny asks, turning to you to wait for your consent, subconsciously defending you like the great friend she was, even if it was against her own brother. You felt Hermione's stare on your sad form and you simply nodded, knowing you just needed to get it over with, like pulling a plaster off of a fresh wound.

"We'll be right downstairs," Hermione said, not missing the opportunity to glare at Fred as she walked past, trying her best to appear threatening. You couldn't meet his eyes, not even when the door clicked closed and you were left alone. You had never felt so achingly awkward in his presence and you tried your hardest not to let your thoughts spiral as you considered his next move. Fred crept closer to you, no doubt judging your demeanour carefully to check that you wouldn't launch yourself at him or run away if he spooked you. You felt the bed dip as he took a seat beside you, sitting on the edge of the bed just close enough to reach out to you.

He said nothing but reached out slowly to gently place his finger under your chin and lift it so that your eyes were looking into his. His eyebrows bunched together slightly as he noticed the unshed tears in your eyes. "I'm so sorry," he says quietly and your eyes closed at the pain consuming you as he began his rejection. "I only intended to hear what Ginny had to say, I wanted to make sure she was okay and that that little shit hadn't upset her. But then you started talking and I was intrigued, I'd always wanted to know how only you were able to tell me and George apart like some kind of superpower. You've never once called me the wrong name, or George and you've never once made us feel like we were the same person, just like everyone else has." His tone was soft and honest, two things you hardly knew Fred was actually capable of, which caught you completely off guard. "It was interesting to hear how well you know us, I never noticed just how well you do, mostly because my attention has always been on you."

Your eyes flashed up to his again at his words and he let out a little smile at seeing your shock.

"I'm sorry I found out like I did, but I'm so fucking glad I know now and I can't say I regret it." His words only surprised you more and you had to stop yourself from gaping at him.

"Tell me if I'm reading this wrong, but I really, really want to kiss you right now," he says, chuckling slightly as your eyes widen, the thumb of his hand that was cradling your chin absently stroking your cheek.

You don't waste another second and slightly lean into him, trying to close the distance between you as he leans forward, bridging the gap and capturing your lips in a kiss that sets off butterflies in you. The kiss deepens almost instantly as he pulls you closer to him, your arms snaking around his shoulders as you put every ounce of emotion into kissing him back, feeling like Weasley whiz bangs were going off all around you. His hand cradles your chin and neck as he holds you, dominating the kiss which you never want to end. You pull apart eventually, both a little out of breath as you look at each other with a little laugh shared between you at the sudden shift in mood.

"I'm a complete fool, if I'd just told you how I felt at the beginning we could have been doing that for years," he says with his signature smirk back in place, still a little breathless from the searing kiss you'd just shared.

You huffed out a laugh in reply, "not a completely fool, just a fool," you teased. He immediately launched himself at you, wrestling you to the bed as he climbs over you, planting another kiss on your lips as his hand tangled into your hair to hold you close to him.

"I'm not wasting anymore time," he says, pulling away as he gazes sincerely into your eyes, "be my girl?"

"I've always been your girl," you reply quietly, looking up at him with a sincere, loving smile. He smiles, chuckles and reaches down to give you one more kiss and you're convinced you could die happy now.

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #harry potter #fred Weasley x you #emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites

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natailiatulls07 · 1 year ago

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Childhood Sweethearts

Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Summary - After years of being separated, the two childhood lovers reunite once again

Warning - Herve Leclercs death, anxiety

Growing up, the Leclerc’s and the L/n’s were close family friends. Pascale and Herve were Y/n’s godparents. Being the same age, the parents would often stick Charles and Y/n together claiming that they were future lovers and soulmates.

That’s how the two developed a crush on the other, an innocent and first crush.

It didn’t help that the two would unknowingly play into the scenario of young love, like this one time Charles had given her his lollipop because there wasn’t any left for Y/n. Or the time where Y/n offered to play football with him when Charles’ other friends couldn’t, despite the fact that she didn’t know how to play the sport.

Pascale and Y/n’s mum would always say “oh look at them, the cutest little couple ever”. Or Herve and her father would always convince Charles to buy Y/n a little gift with his pocket money which he happily obliged to.

However, in 2017, after Herves unfortunate and devastating death, the two families grew apart. They never wanted this to happen but sometimes in life these things do happen and we can’t control them.

They felt uncomfortable spending time together without the company of the late Leclerc. Losing contact was when Charles and Y/n had finally broken apart.

Yet their life long love for each other didn’t flutter away, they would still love the other the same but just miss them incredibly.

“Yes mum, I’ll be okay don’t worry” I had only just gotten off the plan in Austria when my mum called me, she has always been very anxious when I travel alone.

“Ok honey, when you do see Charles tell him that he should bring his mum over sometime” That’s why I was here in Austria, I was planning on surprising him.

It all started when his little brother, Arthur, reached out to me through instagram dm’s.

Hey Y/n, long time no see. I was wondering if you could do me a favour

So when he explained how Charles had been feeling a little down about his performance this year on track and that Arthur thought it was best if I came to surprise him, I didn’t hesitate to agree.

It was along before race day Sunday came around. I had arranged to meet Arthur at the paddock entrance and he’d be my guide for the day. I had butterflies in my stomach, what if he had moved on from our silly childhood love? What if he didn’t want to see me again? I had many what if’s which didn’t help my anxiety. “Hey! Hey Y/n!” I heard the voice of the youngest Leclerc brother as he approached me, snapping me out of my head full of questions.

“Arthur Leclerc! Since when did you grow?!” I had always remembered how he would be smaller than me growing up and now he has grown well above my height.

“Long long time in the making, unless you’ve gotten shorter” He teased before pulling me into a hug. “No seriously we’ve missed you and your family…” Arthur’s voice now growing more somber.

“I know, we miss you guys too…but hopefully after today we’ll get some more time together…” I knew it wouldn’t be the same without Herve but we’d honour him and reminisce on the memories. Taking a deep breath as we pulled apart.

“Let’s do this! He’s going to be so happy!!” There was an evident smile of excitement on his face, which I only mirrored on my mine.

The race had just finished, with Charles coming in at second. Both Y/n and Arthur had managed to keep her out of sight of Charles, leaving the surprise for the podium.

Standing just below the podium, she watched how Checo then Charles and finally Max took their places.

Y/n wasn’t sure he’d see her as she was amongst a sea of red, all the Ferrari engineers and employees. That was until Charles had looked down at the red sea, his eyes clicked on a familiar yet stranger of a face.

His hand flew over his mouth to show his shock, before jumping down from second place and running down to her. Many staff members tried to stop him, but his force was too strong.

Finally the man in the Ferrari racing suit had come face to face with her again. “What? How are you here?” Charles had many questions, beyond baffled.

“To surprise you, Charlie” Their cheeks were beginning to hurt because of how much they were smiling. Crashing her into his arms, they both felt at home and comfortable.

“Oh ma amour… I’ve missed you some much” Y/n was close to tears, she had never found anyone who loved her the way he did. She missed that love they had for each other.

“Missed you too Charlie” She managed to croak out through her tears. They were both too focused on each other to notice everyone around them.

Arthur was watching from just beside, happy that he could reunite the childhood sweethearts after so long. Fans were confused but cheering nonetheless as they could see the relief and comfort this brought to Charles.

You could see Max looking down from his spot on the podium to see the two reuniting. He had known of Y/n from their karting days where her family would join the Leclercs to support Charles on the sidelines.

Max would often remember how she was the first one to hug and congratulate Charles whatever the race result, he saw the love in their eyes.

It had been a few days after the race, and the two were once again inseparable. Travelling back to Monaco whilst the two families planned a small get together.

“So Y/n, how is everything? I’ve missed our girls days out with me, you and your mum” Pascale had pulled Y/n aside, she wanted to catch up with her goddaughter.

“All good but even better now! Yes we should definitely do a girls spa day soon” A bright smile was etched on Y/n’s face, showing Pascale that she was far from lying.

“Of course, tell me has there been any other men in your life over the years…” As much as Pascale hated the idea of Y/n with someone else and Charles with someone else, she needed to know.

“No…Charlie has always been the one with my heart…” There was a sigh of relief coming from the older women’s lips as Y/n revealed her love for him.

“Well you’ll be glad to know that I think you and Charles are on the same page there…” She could only smirk when Y/n started to blush.

“Thank you Pascale, you really are my fairy godmother” With that Pascale pulled her into a hug, a long and warming hug.

“So tell us Charles, who is the new lucky girl?” The interviewer asked. It had been just over few months since Charles and Y/n reunited and their love had become strong than ever.

“She’s nothing new, we’ve always loved each other like we do now but yeah she’s my soulmate, my other half” Anyone who could see him now could see the love in his eyes.

This wasn’t an ordinary love story, and you could tell. “I love her and she loves me, always have and always will”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles lechair #charles leclerc x you #formula one #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 x you #ferrari f1 #formula one x y/n #forza ferrari #scuderia ferrari #arthur leclerc #Lorenzo Leclerc #pascale leclerc #max verstappen

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dreamcubed · 8 months ago

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i don't wanna live forever | mattheo riddle x reader

song; i don't wanna live forever [taylor swift, zayn] pairing; mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; ex2l, reconciliation, ex-lovers, angst, smut, hurt comfort(ish) word count; 2,8k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, toxic relationship, jealousy, controlling behaviour, mattheo is not a good person, neither is y/n, borderline cheating (not on y/n or mattheo), smoking, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, arguments, drunk sex, piv, fingering, degradation, ass-slapping summary; ever since you began dating, you and mattheo had been a fiery and toxic mess of breaking up and getting back together - only, when you finally try and date someone else, you realise that you miss and crave the unhealthy pattern that came with mattheo riddle

MINORS DNI! 18+ content.

i don't typically write smut but this oneshot felt incomplete without it. so, enjoy... 2 year anniversary & 1k celebration gift haha

masterlist

"wondering if i dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life."

——————————————

"I mean, why did you even date him in the first place?" Cho asked you, chewing on a chip, "He's literally You-Know-Who's son."

You sighed, used to this conversation from every person you knew, "You can't judge someone by their parents."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"Cho, his dad went MIA for thirteen years when he was one and his mum was in prison until last year. He hardly knows them."

"But," she said, "He was raised by the Malfoys and he was sorted into Slytherin."

You rolled your eyes.

She shrugged, "I'm just saying, the red flags were there."

You didn't reply, moving your gaze over to the group of Slytherin boys sat laughing with each other while they ate. Your ex-boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle, was sat among them.

It felt too definitive saying ex, however, since you two broke up and made up constantly, and had for the last year and a half, much to your friends' horror. You argued with him, you cried over him, you talked shit about him - but you loved him. And the love you had was a burning flame of passion, but it wasn't healthy. You had broken up a week ago, which was actually the longest you had gone without talking.

Normally, you would have caved by now, but you felt different this time. You felt immensely stubborn.

"It's time you stayed apart for good," Cho said, just as Mattheo's eyes locked on to yours, "He's bad for you."

You knew she was right, which was why you accepted when a nice Hufflepuff boy asked you to Hosmeade that weekend.

***

The bouquet of pink and red flowers being presented to you really should have given you butterflies, maybe even made you squeal, but they horrified you. Nonetheless, you smiled and said, "Awh, thank you. You shouldn't have," before taking Leon's extended arm and letting him lead you to the Three Broomsticks. He pulled the chair out for you, and you forced another smile on to your face.

"I've been wanting to ask you out for ages," he said excitedly, "But you were still on and off with Riddle."

You hummed.

"I'm glad you're done with him. He didn't treat you right."

It was mutual. You were just as toxic as Mattheo.

"But I will."

"Well, thank you, Leon," you said gently, "We'll see, won't we?"

He beamed at you, "You're so beautiful."

Surely such a comment should make you blush, right?

***

"How was the date?" Cho wiggled her eyebrows back in the Ravenclaw dormitories.

"It was... good," you said, placing the flowers on your desk haphazardly.

"Just good?"

"He's really nice, I- I just..."

Cho frowned, "He's boring?"

You shook your head, "No, he's funny and interesting."

"Then what's the issue?"

You shrugged, "I don't know."

"Give him a chance then, babe."

***

Leon wrote you poems, he took you on cute dates, he fed you, he walked you to classes, and he hung off your every word. But your eyes would always linger over to Mattheo - because despite everything Leon did for you, the only time you felt butterflies anymore was when you made eye contact with your ex-boyfriend. That glittery spark had never once burnt out in those long eighteen months you were on and off. Every argument and break up only seemed to make it burn stronger and brighter.

And the thing was, Leon was too healthy for you: too sane, too trusting, too normal. Mattheo had turned you into a raging jealous monster, as you had him, and it was part of the reason you were on and off. Neither of you had ever actually cheated, but if you got too close to a boy? He would start an argument and scream at you until you yelled back that you were over. Two days later, he would corner you, never truly apologising but kissing and making up, muttering how he loved you before fucking you until the sun came up.

And you had done the same thing to him.

That was the issue with Leon: he was friends with everyone. Some of his closest friends were girls. Were you jealous? No. But you knew if you began to develop feelings for him then you would become more jealous than an innocent boy like him could handle. You would ruin him the way Mattheo ruined you, fucking him up for any future romantic endeavours.

It drove you crazy how respectful he was, how he didn't bat an eye at you saying you were going to study with a male friend. You needed more push and pull than what he was giving you: you craved a fight, because you craved the crazed passion that came with it.

Yet, three weeks passed by and Mattheo had made no effort to do anything more than glare daggers at you and Leon from across the room.

Then the Christmas holidays hit.

***

A rich Hufflepuff in your year - not Leon - was hosting a house party at their gigantic home, and you had scored an invite. In fact, so had everyone in your year, including a few people from the year above and year below. Leon had immediately owled you to say that he would pick you up before heading there, but you knew that as you patted on concealer and highlight, you were thinking about Mattheo's reaction when he saw you. He had hated when you dressed too revealing, saying that he could see guys' eyes on you - and he wasn't wrong, you just didn't care.

You had purposefully dressed yourself in a tiny black miniskirt and matching bralette, which as a combination left very little to the imagination. With the fishnets you adorned as well, it was borderline lingerie.

Maybe Leon would finally argue with you and make you feel something.

"Y/N, you look gorgeous," he beamed, not a trace of anger on his perfect face when you opened the door to him.

"Thank you," you said, fighting the urge to sigh, "You don't look so shabby yourself."

"Shall we?" he held out his hand to you, which you accepted.

***

The party was already in full swing when you arrived, and you made a quick motion to catch up by downing two shots. Leon watched you in amazement.

"You want one?" you asked, going to pour another drink.

He shook his head, "I don't drink."

"No?" you paused in your movements, thinking that maybe this would be the time you finally argued, "I drink a lot."

"Each to their own," he shrugged, "I'll look out for you."

"Thanks, then," you said awkwardly, "I'm gonna go for a smoke, you coming?" Had you partially said that as another attempt at angering him? Yes. But you also were craving nicotine.

He shook his head, "I'm good, we'll catch up in a bit, yeah?"

You nodded absently, pouring a third shot for yourself before creating a mixed drink and heading outside to the smokers' area. And, there he was, Mattheo Riddle stood with a cigarette between his lips and a drink in his hand.

Pulling out a cigarette that you had tucked in your bralette, you boldly walked up to the group of Slytherin boys and asked, "Anyone got a light?"

Nott, who was right next you, passed you his, but you never took your eyes off Mattheo. His eyes glided up and down your exposed body as you lit your cigarette and took a long drag, relishing in the taste. You watched his jaw clench.

"You and Duggard official yet?" Berkshire asked, referring to Leon. At his question, a borderline growl erupted from Mattheo.

You shrugged vaguely, "We'll see."

"Will you?" Mattheo asked coldly.

You exhaled some smoke, "Well, he's handsome, smart, funny and attentive to my every need."

"Oh, is he?" Mattheo stepped closer to you.

Chuckling, you said, "He's a very kind man."

Mattheo scoffed, pushing past you with a mutter of, "That's not what you need."

He was right, of course, but he didn't need to know that.

You turned your focus to your cigarette.

"He's not the same without you," Nott said casually, dropping his finished cigarette on the ground and stepping on it.

"No?" you murmured, a smile tugging on your lips.

"He hardly sleeps, hardly eats, is angry all the time," he continued, "So, please, stop your little charade with Duggard and get back with him already."

"Who says it's a charade?"

You heard Berkshire scoff, "C'mon, L/N, everyone sees you stare at Matt all the time. Everyone except Duggard, that is."

Biting your lip, you ashed your cigarette, "Well, maybe Riddle should man up and apologise."

***

The party raged on, and as the alcohol flowed through your system, so did the music. Leon didn't seem that keen on the party atmosphere, so you resorted to dancing with Cho and other Ravenclaw girls. That was until you felt a guy come up behind you and begin dancing with you.

You turned around to see a Gryffindor boy from the year above, and he wasn't half-bad looking, so in your drunken state you allowed it to happen. Cho gave you a sceptical look, but didn't intervene.

A hand tugged on your wrist, and you looked up to see Leon.

"Can we talk?" he mouthed, and you nodded absently, following him to the quieter room that was the kitchen.

"What?" you said a little harshly.

"I'd appreciate if you wouldn't dance with other guys," he said, his tone completely without malice.

Your instinct in these situations was to get aggravated, so you snapped, "Well, if you actually knew how to party, I wouldn't have to."

Leon stared at you blankly, "I'm sorry."

For fuck's sake, why did he have to sound so genuine?

"I'll try and come out on the dancefloor if that's what you want."

"Fucking hell," you cursed.

"What? What is it?" he sounded worried.

"Why don't you argue with me?" you exasperated, tugging at your scalp.

Leon frowned, "That's no way to resolve things."

"It's not about resolving things," you snapped, "It's about passion, it's about the spark, it's- it's..." you trailed off, "Rowena, I feel crazy."

"I understand your relationship with Riddle wasn't the easiest one, but I want to help you learn what a calm and healthy relationship is," Leon said gently, "Because you deserve better."

"Are you even listening to me?" you pulled your hands down your face, "I don't want peace. I want passion. I want twin flame bruises. I want a push and pull."

"I-"

You cut him off, "Mattheo would have beat the shit out of that guy for dancing with me."

"That guy probably didn't know you were taken-"

"Mattheo made sure that everybody knew I was his," you said firmly, feeling tears prick at your eyes, "I just need to argue, Leon - I crave it."

"Well, I can't give that to you."

"Y/N," a voice spoke in a growl behind you.

You span around, being faced with the one man who could make you feel electric. And that was when your emotions crashed all over you: upset and anger expressed through tears and yelling.

"Why are you taking so fucking long?" you screamed.

But he wasn't looking at you - no, he was glaring at Leon. "I think you've had long enough with my girl, Duggard," he drawled.

"She's not your girl anymore," you heard Leon reply, before he said to you, "What did you mean when you asked him why he's taking so long?"

You saw Mattheo clench his fist, and you grabbed his wrist to halt him, "Fucking talk to me, Riddle."

His eyes snapped to yours, "I will never be Riddle to you, princess."

"Considering we've hardly spoken the last few weeks, I'd say you are."

"Guess I'll have to remind you who you are to me, then," he chuckled darkly, pulling you away from Leon. The Hufflepuff boy went to follow you worriedly, but you glared at him and he stayed put. Part of you felt bad: a tiny, sober part.

You found yourself in an upstairs bathroom, pressed against a cool tile wall.

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I can't promise I'll be a good person about it."

"You're never a good person about anything," you muttered, relishing in his hot breath fanning on to your face.

He smirked, "We both know that's the way you like me."

You hummed, "Fuck me, Mattheo."

"I'm not sure you deserve a good fuck after everything you've done."

"I never fucked him."

"No?" he chuckled, "Good."

And then his lips were on yours, tasting, sucking, nibbling every centimetre. His hand quickly trailed to underneath your skirt, rubbing your clit through your scandalously thin panties.

He pulled away from the kiss, "Don't ever wear anything like this again," he kissed you again, "At least not in public."

"Whatever you want."

He hummed his approval, pushing your panties aside to push two fingers inside of you.

"Please, I just want your dick."

"Yeah?" he murmured, "How bad?"

"So bad, please," you begged, your tear and mascara stained cheeks enhancing the puppy dog eyes you gave him. Mattheo had to admit, he loved seeing you so desperate for him.

"You really don't deserve this," he sighed, unzipping his trousers.

You licked your lips as you watched him pull his rock hard dick out.

"I can't wait to feel your mouth on it again," he muttered, "But I'm feeling nice, so I'll just give you what you want."

Mattheo bent you over the sink countertop, lifting up your skirt and slapping your ass in the process. He pulled your panties further aside.

"Don't act like you don't just miss being inside me," you forced out, making him slap your ass harder.

To your surprise, he said, "Of course I fucking did."

And then he pushed inside you, quickly and without warning, causing you to gasp loudly.

"So fucking wet."

You arched your ass up to him, moaning.

"I don't think I'm gonna last long."

You were hardly able to reply, as he had begun to run circles on your clit as well. But, you agreed with him, as the absence of this feeling had made your body hypersensitive to Mattheo's every touch.

"Fuck, you're such a whore," he murmured, picking up the pace relentlessly.

"Your whore," you managed to say, your eyes rolling back into your head as you felt your orgasm build up.

"I bloody well hope so," he chuckled.

And then, as you both came closer to ecstasy, things went silent - the only noise being his groans, your moans, and the sound of skin slapping.

"Matty, I'm gonna co- fuck!" you cursed, feeling your release wash over you in red hot passion, your vision going white as your every limb shook. You didn't normally orgasm so easily.

He continued to fuck your overstimulated pussy, gripping your hips so hard it would probably leave bruises. "Gonna fill you up," he choked out, his breathing growing heavier as you finally felt his dick throb inside you, signifying his release.

Mattheo stilled, staying inside you for a moment as you both processed the situation. Eventually, he pulled out, helping you turn over so you were sat on the counter facing him. You were both panting.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually, and your eyes widened.

He had never outright apologised before.

"I'm sorry too," you mumbled back.

"I love you so much," he pressed his forehead against yours, "I just I-"

"I love you too. So much."

He hummed, "I just- I don't understand my father. I don't want to live forever."

You frowned, "Why not?"

"Because," he took your hands in his, "Without you, I'd just be living in vain."

A smile stretched widely on your face, "Want to leave this stupid party?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

And as you left the party, hand in hand and evidently in a post-sex haze, Mattheo said - loud enough for a few close people to hear - "I'm gonna marry you, you know that?"

And you did.

———————————————

masterlist

written; 25/02/2024 —> 09/03/2024 published; 09/03/2024 edited; —/—/——

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the-kr8tor · 6 months ago

Note

Oh so you want dad!Hobie requests? Take this shot;

dad!Hobie planning a mother's day surprise for R with the twins 🥹 he wants to make something handmade (of course) with them as a gift and a family dinner and R can't move a finger! It's her day so Hobie is the one responsible for everything as she rests and/or gets some quality time with the three loves of her life.

(R may be a bit skeptical because for a week Hobie's been acting weird from all the hiding but she just gives him the benefit of the doubt and in the end it's just him being utterly in love for her)

(Ow why'd you have to shoot me, bleaky?) Thank you for the lovely request!! 😘❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, dad! Hobie, mum! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, dad AU, twin AU, Fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You wake up to silence, it's quiet, and you smile, muscles relaxed as you hug your pillow. Eyes opening wide awake, you realize that it's too quiet. You've overslept, judging from the clock that blinks eleven am. This would be heaven for you but the eerie quiet has you flipping the covers away hastily, almost tripping over your own feet as you leave your shared bedroom; not even bothering to put on your slippers. Your mind races to different scenarios, a villain has your daughters, your five year old girls are currently making their own breakfast downstairs and now there's a fire. Or worse, green goblin is making breakfast for them.

“Billie!” You call, feet bounding down the stairs. “Mon—!” Skidding to a halt, you release a sigh of relief at the scene in front of you.

Your little family has their own aprons on. Hobie has your purple frilly one, while Billie and Ramona have their own, pink and yellow with little butterflies that's a bit big on their little frames. Their curls all tied up atop their heads neatly, courtesy of Hobie. All three of them are properly dressed up, like they've been awake for hours. You guess that they have been based on how messy the kitchen is, yet there's no speck of sauce or icing on their chubby cheeks or on their cute outfits.

They freeze on the spot, like you just hit pause on the remote control. Billie has her finger floating above a bowl, probably sneaking a taste while her dad is turned away, kneeled in front of the oven where he's halfway taking out a freshly baked cake. His mouth agape, hazel eyes blinking like a deer in the headlights. You just now notice how your home smells like a bakery and a restaurant. Sporting a pair of baking mitts on, he winces at the ruined surprise. Mona's eyes are wide, a box of sprinkles in her smaller hands. A huge dollop of the sugary treat escapes the confines of the box, colourful sprinkles raining down on the pink icing.

“Hi mummy—” Mona tries to nonchalantly greet you but Billie surrenders, arms raised, grinning from ear to ear.

“Happy mother's day, mummy!” Billie quickly climbs down the stool with the grace of a baby giraffe. Socked feet running towards you, you bend your knees to catch her before she hits your legs. Giggling, she embraces your neck. “Surprise!”

“Oh thank you, dovey!” Pecking her temple, squeezing her tight, you feel Mona tugging down at your shirt. “Hi, baby.” Beaming down, you scoop her up, already an expert at carrying your two babies at once.

Mona holds out a candy flower for you, a shy smile on her lips, eyes soft and adorable at how she looks at you like you deserve the whole world. “Happy mummy's day, mummy.”

“Thank you, my flower.” She hides her face on the crook of your neck, you'd shower them both with kisses but someone else gets your attention.

Hobie saunters over to you, a bouquet of flowers in his arms that he procured from somewhere. All multicolored petals and seemingly out of this world. Still in your apron, he reaches for you all smooth and suave, eyes glued to your flustered face. Pulling you by the waist, he single handedly holds the three of you.

“Mornin’”

“It's definitely a good morning.” The twins watch the interaction, their eyes flicking over to the enticing flowers that seem to be painted with watercolors and with its petals opening and closing slowly. “What's all this?”

“It's mother's day, love. Did you forget?” Hobie teases, mischievous smile that you eagerly want to smooch away. You resist while your babies are still in your arms.

“Actually I did, I had a busy week.” You apologetically say even though none of it was your fault. There was trouble at work, to which you had to stay far longer than you should have for a couple of days. Then there was Mona who had the sniffles, and of course Billie followed with her own fever. On top of all that, you missed Hobie dearly while he had to stay overnight in spider society.

Hobie knows you had a crappy week, he appreciates everything you do, to the smallest things, to the heavier stuff that he wouldn't have solved if not for your help and mere presence alone. He wants to say so much gooey lovey stuff to you, to show how much he still loves you even after all these years of being together. And how that love has never wavered even for a second.

But for now, he'd settle for the breakfast that he and his girls prepared for you. There's lunch too, and dinner. He thinks that the surprise isn't all ruined since he still has a few tricks up his leather sleeves.

“Let's help you remember, yeah?” Hobie turns towards Billie and Mona who are mesmerized by the flowers. “What do you say, mac and cheese, let's give mum the best mother's day?” They stay quiet, eyes glued onto the other wordly flowers. Looking at it closely, it's all mechanical. You then realize that he made the entire bouquet, the thought has your heart melting.

Hobie shakes his head with a smile. “When I told you lot to keep quiet while baking, I didn't say to forever be this quiet. You two are scaring mum and dad.”

You chuckle, shaking them lightly in your arms. They look like they're out of the spell. Grinning up at you, eyes sparkling under the kitchen lights. They hug you simultaneously, you can feel how they relax completely in your arms just like how they used to back when they were still in their cribs. There's a part of you who wishes they don't grow up too fast so you could have more moments like this.

“How'd you get them to stay all quiet?” You ask, there's heat behind your eyes. Tears of happiness almost spilling over when Hobie places the flowers behind him and on the counter to hold you fully in his arms. He subtly helps with carrying the girls with how his arms snake around and under yours .

“Simple, told ‘em it was all for mum.”

You could feel the sob in your throat, Hobie laughs, not at how your lips wobble but it's the only thing he manages to do from how deep he is in the fog of affection around you four.

“Happy mother's day, love.”

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piastorys · 7 months ago

Text

My Eyes Are On You

Blurb

pairing; Oscar Piastri x Reader

plot; He's asked you to be his plus one. You couldn't say no...it would be rude.

You'd been in town the day before, searching for something that would be suitable for a formal McLaren event. Though, nothing really drew you in. You wandered, on the phone to your mum, when something caught ryour eye. It was perfect...

"Osc?" you'd call, standing in the ensuite bathroom. You'd hear footsteps and a gentle hum in response. You'd turn slightly, looking towards the door, "Could you help me put this on?"

Oscar would be stood there, eyes glued on the sight in front of him. You'd adjust your bracelets as his eyes widened slightly. You knew you looked pretty good, but you didn't think you'd turn him speechless. You'd smirk.

The dress was floor length, crimson and came in at all the right places. You wore your pretty, black louboutin heels (which you were gifted for Christmas by Oscar) and they tied everything in perfectly. All you needed now was your pendant necklace.

You'd raise your eyebrow at him as you looked up from your wrists.

"Good god.." he'd murmur, "But erm, yea, 'course." Hed move to stand behind you. You'd bundle up your hair, twisting it then moving it over your right shoulder. You'd feel his breath on the back of your neck.

You'd watch him through the big mirror in front of the bathroom counter. His eyes were on the clasp momentarily before he laid it around your neck. His wrist would brush your jaw as he positioned it, before moving back to put it on. You'd keep your eyes on him in the mirror as his fingers occasionally skimmed your skin.

As he secured it, you'd feel a kiss pressed to the top of your shoulder. His eyes would meet yours in the mirror. He'd smile back at you before his eyes moved down to admire the dress once more.

You'd suddenly feel a surge of butterflies and would fluster, unable to take in his sudden affection.

"You look really beautiful." he'd smile while his hands slithered around your waist and head laid on the shoulder he'd just pecked. You'd smile softly, still pink.

"Thanks, Osc. And you look really handsome in your suit." you'd reply, trying to break the sudden silence. Instead of a reply, he'd simply kiss below your ear.

It didn't come across as sexual or inviting, just really really loving. You'd turn to face him, and his hands would move with you.

"How long till' we need to go?" You'd ask, trying to calm yourself down slightly. You'd reach over to your phone to check.

"About ten minutes, so no rush." he'd reply, snapping out of his daydream. "I'm just, erm..gonna grab my tie."

You'd notice his accent sounded thicker as you watched him excuse himself. Your smile was still very present, along with your flushed cheeks and unruly knots in your stomach. You'd adjust the pendant, which was coincidentally engraved with OP81. You'd smirk down as the yellow bathroom light highlighted the small lettering. Tonight was going to be a long night...

Requests and reposts are highly appreciated 🤍

#formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #fanfic #op81 #oscar piastri scenario #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #reader x op81 #piastorys #mclaren x reader #scenario #oscar piastri blurb

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jamiesfootball · 7 months ago

Text

Delightful details from Uncle's Day:

Roy's sister blowing the party horn just as enthusiastically as Phoebe

Phoebe calling her mum 'mummy'

Her mum calling her 'Phoe'

The actress having similar high-note / mannerism to Phoebe when going down the list of Phoebe's Favorite Holidays

"Any day that annoys Roy, holiday for meee~!" with the pointed sibling grin

Phoebe's handmade, handdrawn Uncle's Day sign

A collection of novelty / graphic mugs

Rose-tinted wine glasses on the cabinet

How cosy and warm their home looks. It's not loud but its colorful and bright. Butterfly decals decorating the walls with no rhyme or reason. Full of toys and a big ol' calendar on the fridge and just. Signs of a kid lives here.

"She might be an old soul, but she's a proper fucking dweeb, isn't she?"

The implied agreement between Roy and his sister that Phoebe is an old soul

"Is that your Range Rover outside as well?" I fucking love him so much

The way it looks like Phoebe was dragging Jamie forward by the hand

They planned this

"Hello, Uncle Roy"

His sister not chiming in at all. Just snacking away

"Who's your best friend, Jamie?" "Probably Isaac." "Fuck off."

The gift. THE GIFT

Jamie immediately jumps explain the gift the second it's opened

THE SINCERITY. "I GOT THEM TO CHANGE THE 'E' TO A 'U'."

The fried eggs on the wrapping paper of Phoebe's gift

Roy's sister's face journey at the tie-dye shirt

Jamie's been here for 2 minutes and he's been fined twice

#ted lasso rewatch #roy kent #phoebe kent #roy's sister dr o'sullivan #jamie tartt

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noisycowboyglitter · 3 months ago

Text

Celebrate Rare Disease Day with Butterfly Heart and Zebra Ribbon Themes

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These awareness ribbons are used in various ways:

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By wearing or displaying these ribbons, supporters help spark conversations and raise vital awareness for conditions that might otherwise remain invisible to much of society.

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This collection of symbols is often found on awareness merchandise like t-shirts, pins, or posters. It resonates with individuals affected by rare diseases, their families, and advocates, serving as a reminder of strength, community, and the ongoing journey towards recognition and improved care.

Butterfly Gifts for Mum offer a delightful way to show appreciation with a touch of natural elegance. These presents often feature charming butterfly motifs, symbolizing transformation and beauty. Options range from butterfly-themed jewelry like necklaces or brooches to home decor items such as cushions or wall art. For

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garden-loving mums, consider butterfly feeders or plants that attract these graceful creatures. Personalized gifts like photo frames or mugs adorned with butterflies add a sentimental touch. These thoughtful presents celebrate the nurturing and transformative role of mothers, making them perfect for birthdays, Mother's Day, or just because.

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yois2aki · 7 months ago

Text

੭୧ chishiya with a reader who likes gift giving... . ۫

chishiya shuntaro x gn!reader (requested)

— warnings: fluff, ooc chishiya, beach arc, love confession, shy chishiya ohhh....

— summary: your gift giving and weird fact telling habit seemed to catch chishiya's attention. that was until it got too much to him.

— word count: 1.3k

people could tell you had a habit of collecting things that caught your interest in the most random occurrences. the motive had never been elucidated, as you wouldn't mind the others staring.

coming home from games tired and exhausted was part of your weekly routine. sometimes, you would refuse to take the car back to the beach just to breathe some air and later walk back by yourself.

it was unusual for you to come back empty-handed. during your time in the borderlands, you found out that gift giving was a pretty easy way for you to show your affection towards others. and even though sometimes you'd look at a pretty rock and mention it to kuina, or tell mira a random fact you heard about some time back in the real world, nothing compared to the surprises you'd prepare, chishiya.

you have noticed, way before even getting close to him, that he does not seem to get fazed by anything. if he complimented you, that'd be a reason for your sleep to be slightly better than the other nights.

knowing that about him, you made it your daily goal to try and steal a reaction from him. from the littlest things, like telling him all about how you learned that cheetahs don't roar but instead meow and purr. to more thoughtful stuff, like gifting him a personally handmade butterfly origami you spent an hour trying to figure out.

chishiya didn't understand the point of all this effort you took to catch him by surprise. why you were so devoted to making him seem happier. he had lost interest in life a long time ago. so why did he look forward to your every day's information?

"it's for you," you said, handing him a roughly made bouquet of red, white, and yellow flowers you plucked from a garden. "i don't have a place to keep them, and you seem like a much more responsible person for treating flowers."

chishiya knew that wasn't the real reasoning behind it, since your little presents and surprises every day had already become something he expected. he took the poorly made bouquet in his hands, which didn't really look like a bouquet, just a bunch of flowers gathered around.

he kept his eyes on them for a while, almost becoming philosophical from looking at them. he seemed to recognize this kind of plant; however, his memory betrayed him.

"these flowers are called chrysanthemus," you started, biting your lip in apprehension, in case he thought the idea of gifting him a bouquet was stupid. "or simply mums, or chrysanths."

chishiya didn't really know what to say. every single gift you had given him so far were simple things he found amusing but didn't pay much attention to. however, for some reason, being gifted a bouquet seemed to make his heart throb a little faster. he couldn't help but imagine the scenario in his head. you, contently plucking the flowers out of their natural spot and wrapping them together, thinking of him while doing so.

if he were with you at that moment, he probably wouldn't have minded it as much as he does now. instead complaining about the fact you're disturbing the eco system and urging you to leave the plants be. but he couldn't bring himself to be upset with you right now, not while you were so shyly giving him a bouquet of flowers.

"did you know these are native to east asia?" you commented, and he started listening intently. "however, the center of diversity is in china. i was quite lucky to find them."

chishiya felt like he should say something. perhaps a snarky remark on how you really gave yourself the need to study flowers well enough to recognize them, or maybe a lighter response like a simple thank you and a smile. but no coherent sentences could be formed in his mind, let alone out of his mouth.

at this point, he felt like even the flowers were judging him, given how silent the whole room felt. chishiya knew of the habit of giving others plants, obviously, but he had never even been on the giving end. how was he supposed to react to the receiving one?

it's necessary to mention that he also felt foolish. normally, it's the more serious person on both ends that gives the bouquet, as a way to show their appreciation towards the other if the physical touch or the words of affirmation are too tough. not the other way around.

"i also heard that the white variant of this species means truth, the yellow one means slighted love, and the red one means—" you suddenly stopped your words, your eyes opening like you had just seen a ghost, your line of thinking interrupting itself without your demanding.

"chishiya," you couldn't help but stand still, trying to make sure what you were seeing was true. the rosy tint present on his cheeks is getting more perceptible by the second. "are you blushing?"

he could only turn his head to the side in an attempt to avoid your attention. if he had the ability to sense others's feelings, he would be certain of the biggest smile on your face without even looking. this was definitely the largest process you had made so far, ever since you started this habit of yours. pride filled your chest as you finally realized you were the one capable of teasing him and getting revenge for all the times he made you feel like an idiot.

"why are you so shy?" you asked with a present smirk on your face. your voice alone was a sign you were smiling, not going easy on the teasing. "it's just flowers; have you never been given some?"

"shut up." chishiya managed to mumble out, seemingly not caring about whether you heard it or not.

he turned around, still with the flowers in hand, standing in an awkward position as he tried to remember who he even was and what he was doing here. he suddenly stared at an empty jar on his desk, his movements returning to usual as he seemed to have calmed down a bit, away from your gaze.

"hey!" you scurried after him, the smile unable to leave your face as your mind repeated the image of chishiya shuntaro speechless for once. "i wasn't done; don't run away!"

he ignored your protests, grabbing the handle with strength and almost kicking the bathroom door open, seemingly using anger to cope with the embarrassment he just presented you with. you could only imagine what was going on inside his mind. probably a ton of insulting words running towards him for looking like an idiot once in his life.

he filled the jar with water to a certain point, shoving the flowers inside it, and left the bathroom as he threw the item back on his desk.

"there you go," he began. back to that sharp tone of voice he normally uses, he still refused to turn around and look at you. "your plants are safe and sound."

"you still shouldn't have plucked them out of a garden." he sourly informed. you wondered if he was trying to save the littlest bit of dignity he had left on his soul; unfortunately, you were feeling quite mean that night.

"they were so pretty, though!" you whined out, your hands sitting at your hips. "oh, by the way..."

"the red variant of the chrysanths means i love you." you said with that devious voice again. the only thing that changed in chishiya's posture was the red tint of the flowers, now matching the color present on the tips of his ears.

— n/a: KANDKSJFKEJFNSJDN THIS WAS SO CUTEEEE!! i love writing shy chishiya or stupid chishiya in love he's such a loser....... (i say about a man who's 13 times smarter than me) :cc it's quite sad i have to get a bit outside his character to make it better but i still loved writing this. i hope you guys like it as much!!!

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desideriumwriter · 1 month ago

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Anyone But You | Chapter 13

Summary: You arrive at the Burrow, surprise everyone with your gifts to the twins, get caught greiving again, and end up in a bed you've been in before. Only this time, you were sharing it with someone you never thought you would.

CW: crying, tension tension tension, just awkwardness

WC: 3.6k

A/N: these next few chapters are gonna get real interesting, just bare w/ me yall

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous| Next | Navi

You were staying in Percy’s old room for the days you were staying, Angelina sharing it with you.

It was terrifyingly clean compared to the twins' room, you honestly wondered how Percy managed to live on the same floor for them for so long.

As you waited for everyone else to show up, you wandered around the living room, taking a look around at the family portraits and pictures on the wall.

Your eyes stopped on a familiar one, the picture from when the family took a trip to Egypt, their picture that landed in the newspaper. You really only remembered it because Ron was basically showing it to everyone that passed by him.

“Ah, I’m sure you remember Ron showing you this one.” Fred appeared from behind you, you jumped a bit in surprise. Goddamn ghost.

“Who are those two? Never seen them before.” You pointed to the two unfamiliar boys.

“Oh, those are my older brothers.” He leaned over to point. Your breath hitched at the way his arm hovered over your shoulder, his chest so close to your back.

“That’s Bill, he's the oldest, works as a curse-breaker in Egypt,” He said as he pointed to the long haired boy, then moving his finger over to the other boy, who had a large burn showing on his arm. “That’s Charlie, a bloody legend at Quidditch. He was Gryffindor captain.”

“What does he do now?” You turned to look at him for a second. Merlin, your faces were so close to each other.

“He works with dragons. He's the one that helped bring them to Hogwarts for the tournament.” Fred didn’t realize how he’d lead you back to that night until he saw your eyes flicker a bit. Oh, now he just felt bad and embarrassed.

You felt embarrassed as well, feeling stupid that even the smallest mention of the tournament would bring you back to Cedric’s death.

“Prefects. Both of them.” Fred blurted out, his attempt to shake you from your thoughts. “Mum was unhappy when neither me nor George were picked to be one last year. She said we broke the pattern.” He murmured.

“You and him have set off dungbombs multiple times. In several different places of the school. She really thought they’d choose one of you?” You let out a breathy laugh.

“Still so snarky. I thought we had something good going.” He dramatically sighed and pouted out his bottom lip.

“In your dreams.” You mocked, both of your heads turning when you heard the flame from the chimney spark up.

Katie stood there with raised eyebrows, surprised at the sight of Fred and you so close to one another, you quickly split away from each other.

“Hi Katie! Great to see you made it!” He cleared his throat, trying to pretend she didn’t see you two with your faces so close.

Fred so easily carried on, so easily pretended like you were never that close just a few seconds ago. That he wasn’t staring down at your lips. The butterflies in your stomach were still fluttering.

Fred calling your name broke you out of your thoughts.

“Could you show Katie where your twos room is at? After you can come down and we can get started with the cake and presents.” He happily rubbed his hands together like a giddy child, you just nodded and gestured to Alicia to come with you.

Katie thankfully never mentioned the sight she saw of Fred and you. Only asked you how you were doing and made casual small talk.

The table was crowded as everyone pulled up extra chairs to the table to sit and watch the twins open their gifts.

They went through their gifts politely but tearing open the wrapping paper as excited teenage boys do. Your stomach flipped once they got to yours, you hoped the smaller enchanted boxes were enough to throw them off with their guesses of what it was.

They eagerly opened each of their own boxes. Faces dropping in shock as they pulled out their gifts.

“Are these the newest model of the beaters bats?” George asked, his jaw ajar as he stared at you. Fred followed with the same look.

“I remember hearing you guys talk about how your personal practice bats were getting old and close to breaking so…” You shrugged nervously, clearing your throat. Everyone’s eyes in the room were on you in all the equal amount of shock.

You gave a small smile.

“Oh dearie, how much did you spend on those? I can-“

“It’s fine. Mrs.Wea- Molly, you don’t have to pay me back. I’m happy that I bought these for them.” That last sentence is something you’d never expect to come out of your mouth.

You were glad you bought something for the twins? Who would’ve expected you to ever say that.

Fred noticed your nervousness, you weren’t a fan of everyone’s attention being on you. He cleared his throat.

“I think George is about to take a bite out of the wrapping paper if we don’t eat cake soon.” Fred joked, turning Mrs.Weasleys and everyone else’s attention to the cake now.

Thankfully everyone had moved onto their own conversations with each other once everyone had gotten a slice of dessert.

Yet, Mrs.Weasley urged for you to allow her to pay you however much the bats cost back. You made up a lie that you got a discount on them from your dads friend. Which she most likely didn’t completely believe you about, but she sighed and gave up on trying to convince you.

Afterwards the adults split off into their own group outside, the rest of you changed into pajamas and crowded into the living room to watch a cheesy muggle movie to laugh at.

Before the film started George brought out a handful of celebration crackers, forcing everyone to grab one and wear the small paper crowns that popped out of them.

Fred and you were the only ones that got pink crowns.

During a boring part of the movie, you went into the kitchen to refill your glass with a bit of elderflower wine that the twins had snuck from their mum.

Footsteps followed across the wooden floor behind you.

A hand slid over a second glass, you looked up and of fucking course, it was Fred.

“Pour me some too?” He asked, jerking his head to his glass. You sighed and poured the liquid in his glass as well.

You immediately turned as soon as you grabbed your glass, wanting to escape any moment alone with Fred that could turn into-

“Hold on, your crown’s a bit lopsided.” Fred stopped you, his hands reaching up to fix the paper crown, pulling it down, trying not to tear the thin paper. His hands were so gentle, so careful.

“There! Prim and proper!” He gave you a shoulder dusting and put his hands on his hips like a proud mother.

You let out a puzzled breathy laugh and walked away, trying to ignore that weird hitch you felt when his hands felt so close to your face.

After the movie ended and conversation became slow, you all went upstairs and to your rooms.

“You and Fred eh?” Angelina teased as you threw your pillow you brought onto the spare mattress. You offered to sleep on the extra mattress, letting Katie and Angelina sleep on Percy’s old bed.

“Don’t start.” You half jokingly pointed a threatening finger at her, already knowing the intention behind her words, “There’s nothing between me and him.”

“Nothing except the raging boner he has for y-“ Her sentence was cut short by you flinging your pillow at her, making her nearly double over in laughter.

“She has a point…in a way. We all saw the way he and you were sneaking glances at the table, and on the couch.” Angelina plopped down on the bed next to Katie, who was finally beginning to cool down. You just shook your head, taking your pillow back.

“No, no! Don’t deny it! You two were giving each other eyes all night! ” Angelina poised as she began to shuffle under the covers of the bed, Katie following.

“We weren’t! I’ve been interacting with him as little as possible this entire time.” You were lying straight through your teeth, horribly too. They didn’t believe you, you didn’t even believe yourself. You knew your own words weren’t true.

“Oh fuck off.” Katie laughed in disbelief, “As little as possible? When I first got here the space between you two by the fireplace seemed quite little.” She teased, you felt your cheeks flush as Angelina broke into a grin.

“What? Wait- hold on- what are you talking about?” Angelina darted her eyes between the both of you, your denies were quickly cut off as Katie began to talk.

“When I arrived in the chimney, she and Fred were like two inches apart, looking at each other like they were about to kiss.” Katie scoffed and pointed at you, your jaw dropped.

“He was explaining the pictures on the wall to me!” You exclaimed.

“Oh my- Just admit it! You’ve clearly gotten a liking for him!” Katie groaned out, rubbing her hands down her face.

“I don’t! I’m only here because he’s been way too nice to me lately. I’m neutral about him at the most.”

“Y/N. You got him and George the newest beaters bats.” Katie deadpanned.

“You from six months ago would’ve thrown up if you knew that in the future you actually bought the twins gifts, nice gifts.” Angelina added in, nodding.

You groaned and fell back against the mattress.

“Fine, I got both of them good gifts! I’ve grown accustomed to the twins. Maybe just a tiny bit fond of them, alright?” You muttered, pulling your blanket over your body, settling in.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see how long you keep this act up.” Angelina teased before turning off the lamp behind the bed, telling you goodnight as you did the same.

Too many things kept you up. Angelina and Katie’s teasing words. That weird feeling in your stomach you’ve started to get when you stand next to Fred. How close your faces were to each other the other day.

And the lingering reminders of your dead best friend. That was the worst. You wished it’d stop. How do you forget about losing someone you grew up with?

You weren’t anywhere near being able to sleep, and shifting around on the mattress was hopeless. Sitting up, you were able to see Angelina and Katie in the dark room, they were both knocked out and sleeping peacefully.

You snuck out the room, cringing as the floorboards creaked underneath your feet.

The window at the end of the hallway let in enough moonlight for you to be able to see your surroundings.

You weren’t really sure where to go, it felt weird if you went to sit downstairs. It was nearing three in the morning and everyone was asleep.

Instead of going downstairs, you sat along the top step of the stairs. Not sure what good this would do, it’s just about the same as lying awake in the bed.

You traced over the small floral patterns on the wallpaper with your finger, doing anything to keep you busy from your thoughts.

It was so silent in the house, the quiet was scary compared to the amount of noise going on just a few hours ago. Everyone caught up in their own conversations, laughing at jokes or stories, the drunk and tipsy singing and cheering from the adults. Now the place was so calm and silent you could hear a pin drop.

A door squeaked open and the sound of feet against wood made you whip your head around towards the noise.

Fred was standing in front of his bedroom door, squinting and rubbing his eye.

“Y/N? What’re you doing out here?” He asked as he yawned.

“Couldn’t sleep. Again.” You shrugged, placing your hands on your knees. “What’d you come out here for?” You rubbed your hands back and forth on your pajama bottoms.

“I heard sniffling.”

“Oh. Sorry.” You mumbled, embarrassed at not realizing you were being loud. Fred walked over to you, stopping and standing next to you as he looked down at your gloomy face.

“You alright?” He said so softly, voice nearly a whisper. He took a seat next to you on the old wooden step, being sure to scoot and leave a good amount of space between you too.

Your answer to his question was a weak shrug. You stared and fidgeted with your fingers, blinking away the glaze forming in your eyes.

“Were you thinking about him again?” Fred hesitated before he asked, you just frowned and nodded. He let out a sympathetic hum in response.

“Our last conversation was about you.” You blurted out, Fred’s head immediately turned to you, a strange shocked expression on his face.

“It was nothing bad, I mean, I was annoyed as always but we were just talking about how I was going to give you your hat back.” Fred just nodded in response, really not sure how to respond.

“Fred. Why’d you forgive me so easily?” You sniffled, “I know I was crying and all, but you didn’t have to forgive me out of pity.” You looked at him.

“It wasn’t out of pity.” Fred let out an unbothered scoff, “I could never really hold a grudge against you. I missed annoying you.” He tilted his head teasingly, you let out a weak laugh then sniffled.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be all depressed on your birthday.” You looked at your feet as you wiped your eyes.

“Well it’s past midnight, so it isn’t my birthday anymore.” He shrugged, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his plaid pajama pants. You rolled your eyes playfully, sniffling.

Holding it together for a few seconds, then breaking down into small cries again.

“I’m sorry, I’m- I think about how I knew him for so long, and now that he’s gone I just…I feel so alone. I just feel so stupid.” You sighed out, feeling embarrassed and pathetic at how vulnerable you were being. Fred stood up.

“Come on.” He breathed out, it almost sounded like a disappointed sigh. You stared at him with a perplexed look as he stood up and walked a few steps down the hallway, waving you over.

“Come on, you can sleep in my bed for the night.”

The weird thing about this was that you didn’t grimace or cringe at his suggestion. You didn’t refuse, you stared and hesitated for a second before getting up and going along with him.

George was already knocked out on his bed when you walked in. On his stomach in a starfish position and snoring. It got a small laugh out of you and Fred.

As you settled under Fred’s blankets, you remembered how comfortable it was from the one time you slept in it after the attack during the summer.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me sharing the bed? I can sleep on the floor if you want.” Fred whispered, trying to not wake up George. It would be awkward if he saw you in his brother's bed.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Thanks.” You whispered back before turning on your side, back towards Fred and front facing the wall as you felt the mattress dip as he got on.

It was quite cramped, his twin sized bed was not big enough to fit two people, especially not with Fred’s tall frame. You laid with your backs facing each other.

You tried your best to keep your eyes closed, but you couldn’t, you were stuck looking at the wall. You opened your mouth to speak, searching for words.

“Fred?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you hold me?” Maybe it was the tiny bit of elderwine you had earlier talking, maybe it was the tiredness, maybe it was that you felt really fucking sad, and you needed comfort.

You knew Fred and you weren’t exactly friends, but right now you're all this is the most comfort you could get at this moment.

“Um, yeah.” He cleared his throat, slightly confused but understanding. You felt the mattress shift as he turned to face you, his warm hands snaked around your waist, stopping and resting at your stomach. He gently pulled you close, your back touching his chest. The close contact made your breath hitch.

“Is this okay?” He asked softly, not moving his hands any more.

“It’s fine, yeah. Thank you.” You said quietly, nodding and finally being able to close your eyes and keep them closed. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep after that. Your mind is quiet and you're comfortable for once.

You wake up to Fred unconsciously flipping on his back, still asleep. You’re faced towards him, your head laying somehow comfortably on his arm.

The sun is peeking through the half closed blinds, stripes of gold light beam down across his face, enhancing the sight of his long eyelashes, his slightly parted lips, the freckles all along his face. You could probably count each one with how close you were to him. His long orange hair is splayed all over the pillow, it looks really soft. He’s got a pretty face, you must admit.

It’s quite nice when he isn’t talking. He looks nice. This is nice.

“You’re staring.” Fred mumbles with his eyes still closed, a meek smile on his lips. Your eyes widen for a second in shock that you’ve been caught without him even opening his eyes.

“I think my arms’ gone numb. I can’t feel it.” He said through another sleepy mumble.

“Oh, right.” You sat up, the sleepiness quickly leaving you and being replaced by realization of where you were. The embarrassment set in and you scrambled to climb over Fred and stand up. A very awkward position.

George's bed was empty. There was no way he didn’t see you and his brother sharing a bed. Great.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” You sputtered out and headed for the door, wanting to get out soon as possible. "Don’t you dare tell anyone about this." You stopped and turned back towards him, pointing a threatening finger at him, your tone falling back into the frustrated one you always would have around the twins.

"Wasn't planning on it." He shrugged after holding himself up by his forearms. Eyes squinty and sleepy, his hair messy and sticking up in some places, severe bedhead. It was kind of cute in a way.

“I won’t let this make anything awkward between us, you know.” He added, unbothered.

“There is no us.” You shook your head before leaving. There you went again, reverting back to your harshness to deny it all.

It was honestly hard to hate Fred as much as you used to. To be fair, it’s hard to have that pure hatred for someone after they’ve stroked your hair while you’ve cried in their arms. Twice.

It’s hard to hate someone when you’ve shared a bed and fallen asleep with them holding you.

You looked away as you gave him a stiff nod, leaving the room in an obviously flustered manner.

As you returned to the room across the hall, planning to grab your toothbrush and toothpaste from your bag.

Angelina was already sitting up in the bed and stretching, the spot where Katie was empty. Her belongings were gone as well too.

“‘Morning.” Angelina mumbled as she rubbed sleep from her eyes.

“Morning. Did Katie leave already?”

“Yeah, her parents had some surprise trip planned.” Angelina yawned, “I can see you slept well, I saw that you chose a different bed last night when I got up to use the bathroom.” She grinned evilly at you, you rolled your eyes.

“I can explain-“

“I don’t think I need you to. I'd rather not hear the details.” Angelina chuckled, your jaw dropped slightly once you realized what she thought had gone down.

“It was not what you think it was! We didn’t…sleep together. Not like that.” You whispered out the word, “We slept in the same bed but nothing more than that.”

“Except some cuddling?” She raised her brows at you.

“Listen, I was sad and probably tipsy and I wanted comfort.”

“You could’ve gotten comfort from me or Katie.” She shrugged. You stammered as you tried to find words, she was right.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yeah, because you're in love with Fred, not us.”

“I’m not in love with him!” Angelina shot you a look and you broke, “Okay, maybe, I have grown fond of him. But I’m not in love with him. It’s driving me insane, I used to hate him!” You groaned as you plopped down onto the edge of the bed.

“Used to. That’s the important part.” Angelina pointed at you with a smile. Happy to finally get you to admit that you did have some sort of liking towards Fred. You let out a sound of frustration as you put your head in your hands.

Angelina shifted and removed her legs from under the covers, stretching them before standing up and yawning once again.

“I’m gonna go find George. Good luck with this new chapter in your life. It’s really not that bad.” Angelina said as she patted you on the shoulder, leaving the room with just you in it as she went downstairs.

The worst part is that it was comfortable being so close to Fred.

No. The worst part was that Fred looked gorgeous in the sunlight. You couldn’t get the image of his stupid gorgeous face out of your head.

You had no idea how you were going to deal with these intruding feelings.

tell me what you thought here! <3 or ask tba to the taglist for this series!

TAGLIST: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @five-seconds-flat @nal-leo-17 @rhunew @albertdabuttler @livingdeadgirlflorette @getthefuckoutofhereidiot @merikaberika @beomibeom @sleepygirlsworld @rookiegoose @suna-rintired @imamexican @whotfskai @miaandthediamonds @tarzanathetumblingwarrior @isabellavolere @navs-bhat @df841 @siriusmarryme @ooopsiedaisy997 @residentdemonhunter @ma1dita @b4tm4nn @anonymously-ominous @mistpx

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #anyone but you fic #anyone but you universe #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader

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karlachismylife · 2 months ago

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I Need My Love To Be Here

Once again I couldn't help but do the second-most voted choice too. Why am I making my own life so much harder?

CW: fem!reader, reader and Price are married and have a daughter, long-distance relationship, my music taste projected once again, the tiniest bit of suggestive teasing, toothrotting fluff.

(Title from The Beatles' "Here, There and Everywhere")

Dealing with an energized six-year old refusing to go to bed was a battle alright, especially when your trusted partner with his commanding presence and a true Captain's voice wasn't there to help. You couldn't blame your little one for behaving herself better when John was around: isn't a natural law that the one parent that's often away and always comes back with gifts is the favourite one? It's not daddy who's forcing you to eat healthy food every day and go to sleep when you want another batch of cartoons.

It's the strict, stern-looking mum with her hands on her hips as she scolds you gently for throwing a fit over putting your toys back like promised.

Still, you'd want a little more appreciation and cooperation from Princess Price, sulking in her frog pjs - everything was frog since recently, you even got daddy a froggy hat for when he comes back from deployment.

He was away for a long time. Not somewhere dangerous, he told you as he called and texted regilarly, but he was constantly held back by one or the other thing that just couldn't be resolved without Captain's expertise.

That's what made his new phone call just the sweeter, since the first words you heard after closing priness's door hastly and moving to the living room, were:

"Guess who's coming home tomorrow, darling."

A relieved, longing sigh escaped you as you leaned onto the couch and stared at the ceiling with a dreamy smile.

"Good. Someone here needs a reminder how to listen to what she's being told."

"Is princess being a bad girl?" John's hearty chuckle warmed you even through the phone. You bit your lip, trying to save your own face from splitting in two with the horribly wide smile - same was gracing Price's face for sure, you could hear it, his plump cheeks all big and round, almost hiding his happily narrowed eyes.

"Not necessarily bad. But we have attitide and no respect for mummy's authority. Maybe I should start calling myself Captain too, just for her to listen to me."

"I'm afraid, impersonating an officer is illegal, love," he huffed and chuckled again, gruff, big, bear-hugging sound. A pause. "Are you being a bad girl?"

You pressed your phone closer you your ear as a warm tingling flooded your cheeks and held your breath.

"I'd like to report I'm being perfectly good, sir," if only you could see the way his kind eyes twinkled in the dim lighting of wherever he was, sitting on a chair with knees wide apart, one hand holding the famous cigar.

"That's good to hear. I have a little something for you. A reward for being so good for me and waiting while I'm in this shithole."

"The only reward I need is you back home, John," you weren't even being coy, just honest. It was so long since you last felt his rough palms slide over your sides and lock together as he pulled you into a tight hug from behind, pressing ticklish kisses into your nape.

"I know, sweetpea. Consider this an apology gift then, for taking so long," he didn't let you argue a single word, clearly set on having you accept whatever he prepared, as if him being alive, well and home wasn't enough. "Got us tickets to that McCartney concert, love. For all three of us. Gotta start teaching our princess what good music is."

You gasped, jumping in your seat - your heart did a little flip, cheeks burning now, butterflies that never went away even after years of marriage flocking to your lungs.

"But it's so close, how did you even- oh, I just wanna kiss all hells out of you, John!" His laughter dripped through the phone like spicy honey, sweetening already increbibly sweet deal.

"Oh, I can tell, love. Hope you feel the same way tomorrow."

"Why is tomorrow so far away?" You allowed yourself to be just as sulky and pouty as your little one snoring softly in the other room. Of course you could wait another day, you've waited for months already. But now every minute felt like a whole month itself.

"That's so you can get enough sleep before I make you forget about it for several nights."

#juju's love is illegal celebration #call of duty #cod #oneshot #fluff #cod fluff #price cod #price x reader #captain john price

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eulaliasims · 1 month ago

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Round 2, Midwife 2 / 5

Angus got a bug in his ear about fishing from someone (probably Elmet and his fishy tall tales), so they head over to the pond for the day. Helenet doesn't have much interest in fishing, so she just enjoys the sun and spends a while spotting shapes in the clouds. Huh, that one looks like—uh, something she probably shouldn't say around her son, actually.

Angus: Ma, look!

Helenet: Hm—oh, great work, Angus!

Helenet: Focus on the Otherworld... well, it's no cave, but there must be magic in these woods if he lives so nearby. Let's see...

While Angus admires his fish, Helenet tells him to not to wander while she goes behind a tree to take a wee—by which she means attempt to tap into her magic the way Arturo instructed her to. The alleged not-god, not-fairy man is less helpful than he seems to think himself, but when she tries hard enough to listen, there's a shimmering current of something she can feel like heat against her skin.

When the sparkles (they're sparkles, not energy, shut up Arturo) dissipate, there's a flock of butterflies fluttering around Helenet. That's not exactly helpful in her everyday life, but it does seem like progress. Unless butterflies are just attracted to sparkles.

As if magically drawn by the mere thought of him, Elmet is there when she returns to the pond.

Angus: Ma, Elmet says he caught a fish as big as me once.

Helenet: Elmet is exaggerating, love.

Elmet: Am not! There's some huge fish in the water down by Evervale.

Helenet: Where's your dog pack today?

Elmet: It's not a pack! Anyway, I'm not here for that yet. I was hoping to catch something for dinner. Eisu keeps talking about grilled perch.

Helenet: Well, that's kind of you. Have you, eh, met anyone here yet?

Elmet: No?

Helenet: Hm. I told him he should speak to you, but I think he's a bit shy.

Elmet: Really loving this bit where you don't tell me who I'm supposed to be meeting.

Helenet: Listen, if I had to be surprised, so do you.

Mum and Elmet from the farm next-door are talking about boring grown-up things, and fishing is also getting boring, but Angus found some butterflies!

Proof that Helenet does pay attention to her child sometimes.

Speaking of Eisu, he drops by that afternoon so Helenet can check up on the baby and gift him some tea, and catch up on the latest gossip, of course.

Helenet: Hmm, I wonder if I could do Mum's rejuvenating spell like this...

It... seems to work? But she can't really prod Eisu for detail about how refreshed he suddenly does or does not feel without letting slip why she's asking.

Helenet should really introduce Angus to Wulfric's son.

#TS2 #eulalia: Veridia #sims: Helenet #sims: Angus #sims: Elmet #sims: Eisu

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goodeapple · 1 year ago

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be nice to your neighbors.

i have a million and two wip's in my Ysilla folder and somehow, i have to add one more.

i am an exhausting person. love y'all lots!

pairing : Aemond x Ysilla (Rhaenyra'sDaughter!OC)

warnings : Aemond is a simp & Ysilla is a plant nerd. Awkward flirting. Fluff. No smut :(

word count : 2,500+

It’s so fucking early. What self-respecting tattoo shop is open at 7AM on a Sunday? On God’s day? Aegon hasn’t stepped foot in a church since he was thirteen which explains the hours, but why the fuck is Aemond here and not him?

Aemond wasn’t exactly planning on going to church today, but maybe if he had the option, his arse would be in a pew next to his mother right now instead of perfecting a sketch for an appointment that isn’t even until next week.

His Americano is lukewarm, steam long blown away by the small oscillating fan tucked up on a high shelf. A row of overstuffed books, on everything from Classic Americana design to Valyrian legends he wants to detail on paper, fill up the rest of the ledge. The next one down houses a line of knick knacks he could never force himself to part with- a tiny tacky snowglobe from Harrenhal, his grandfather’s Hand of the King pin from when he was in the courts, 8-tracks from his mum’s rebellious punk phase before she went to college, and at the end, a framed photo of him and his siblings the day they opened the shop. Three identical terrified grins are spread over their faces, nervous anticipation bleeding through the black-and-white snapshot. Little pieces of his life in his little corner of the world, where he gets to do what he loves.

And the most important little worm to him sleeps the day away in her glass vivarium by the door. Vhagar lounges under her UV bulb, baking on a large smooth stone after inhaling her breakfast. His little crocodile without the teeth. The soft garden green bearded dragon with her yellow belly has been his constant companion since he rescued her from a Oldtown pet shop when he was a pre-teen. He hid her under his bed for a full seven months before his mum found her one day when she was searching for missing socks. It was an impressive feat, one she even had to acknowledge after blowing her fucking top.

Aemond darkens the curve of the kraken tentacle he’s sketching, a piece for a client coming all the way from the Iron Isles. The little suction cups still need more depth and he hasn’t even begun to flesh out the texture of the skin yet when the bell hanging above the shop door tinkles, signifying an end to his blissful solitude.

“Hello? Helaena, you here?”

Aemond drops his pencil, shoving off from his desk, grumbling as he goes. There’s still a hint of sleep in his eye and he rubs it away as he walks up the hall to the lobby.

“We don’t take walk-in’s on the weekends and we don’t have any appointments scheduled ‘till 9. So, are you sight-seeing or are you just overly punctual?” He doesn’t mean to sound like a dick, it just comes second nature.

The back of the head that greets him as he blinks open his eye is a pretty one, thick brunette curls pinned up with gold butterfly clips. The girl abandons the magazine she’d been leafing through, turning at the sound of his voice. The wide eyed look that’s spread over her face emphasizes plum-shaded irises, framed by palm leaf eyes. There’s a pair of beauty marks peppered on the dawn of her cheekbone. A rosy mocha mouth is pouted before it curves up into a charming bend of itself.

“I’m sorry, I'm not here to get any work done. I was just coming in to give something to Helaena.” The woman shimmies the large gift bag held tight in her fist as proof. “I’m a friend.”

Aemond shrugs off his disappointment. “Oh, my bad.” She’d be a gorgeous canvas. The golden brown of her skin would take color like a fucking champ. Black would be even better, really make the contrast pop. The smooth peak of her shoulders from underneath the oversized cream cardigan she wears is a tantalizing taste of something he wants to indulge in. “She’s not here yet.”

Her expression collapses and Aemond regrets causing such a look to dim her face. “Oh damn, she told me she’d be in at this time.”

Aemond thinks maybe he should call his big sister, considering he hasn’t received her standard “i’ll be there in 10, I PROMISE 10 MINUTES AEMMY!!” text today, when the girl’s face blooms into one of recognition.

“You’re Aemond, right?”

“Uh, yeah- yes, yes I am.” He coughs, straightening up a bit, manners braided into every core memory he possesses. His mom, in Aegon’s terms, is a tightass but damn him if he doesn’t know how to treat a woman.

“I always see you coming in and out of here, and well, you and Hel and Aegon all look alike, so I put two and two together and made four that you’re the missing piece of Three Headed Dragon.” She gestures to the air, implying she’s speaking about the name of the shop. The gold chains layered around her neck, some with pendants and some without, jingle with her movement. Aemond likes the softness of the sound.

“And when she came in for a succulent recommendation a few months back, I asked about you and she told me your name, and… yeahhh. I just didn’t want you to think I was some weirdo who’s been waiting for the perfect moment to get you alone.”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t think that.” He makes himself look very serious, knitting his brows in a thick, no-nonsense line but he has to bite his lip to keep from snickering, which she notices.

She breathes out a laugh, dipping her head in surrender. She turns to the entrance, and Aemond is worried she might leave. He doesn’t mind her company, which is a miracle considering the hour.

“Hey-”

“Is this your’s?” She points to the hyperrealistic direwolf stencil he’d cranked out last year during an artist’s block that he couldn’t shake for the life of him. The piece is gruesome, wicked lines and keen edges that intimidate even him, and he drew the damn thing.

“Uh, yeah. Good guess.” The black frames adorning the gallery wall are a mixture of his and Aegon’s work, all in varying shades of grays and blacks. His brother’s signature new school style is easily distinguishable to Aemond, but he admits some of their earlier sketches are more uniform than not.

“You do beautiful work.”

Aemond’s eyebrows raise and he lets the compliment warm him.

“I appreciate that. Many wouldn’t call that beautiful, but I think it has a certain magnetism to it.” He looks the woman over, using the excuse of actually searching for ink so that he can appreciate her willowy arms and the peek of shapely legs through the dash in her skirt. “Do you have any?” Aemond gestures to the wall, before gesturing to her.

She shakes her head, freeing an errant curl that falls over her forehead. Aemond picks at his joggers to keep his fingers from doing something stupid.

“Oh no. I’m not the biggest fan of needles. Self-admittedly, I can also be a bit of a flake, so permanent artwork on my body kind of gives me hives.” She shivers and Aemond thinks her modesty is adorable.

“That’s a shame.”

Mystery woman snaps her fingers, spinning on her toes to pin him with a look, and Aemond basks in the scent of jasmine and sea salt that wafts his way.

“If I change my mind, I know who to go to.” She blinks suddenly, her pointed hand gliding behind her to rub at the back of neck in a bashful way. “That is, if you’d ever want to. Or, if you’re like, accepting clients.”

“For you? I think I could make an exception.” Aemond leans into the counter, settling to her level. The way the flush of her cheeks drips into the creamy sweep of her chest makes him hungry. She drops her hand, edging forward on timid toes.

“Well, aren’t you sweet.”

He doesn’t really know how to reply to that. He can feel the tips of his ears heat up, and when she tucks her lock of hair back in place, he wishes he would’ve done it for her. He can see a thin line of dark walnut bracing the white of her eyes with how close he is, so close now he can smell the cinnamon on her breath from the condensating chai latte she holds in her other hand.

“Aemond!” The back door slams and his sister’s voice floats up the hall.

“Fuckin’ A, sorry I’m late. I hit construction traffic and I had to get gas or I would’ve been pushing my Volksy here, and then I needed a coffee, believe me.” A white-blonde head of super short hair is unleashed when his sister yanks off her crocheted bucket hat, and she gasps as she catches sight of the shop’s first patron of the day.

“Good morning, muffin, I was trying to get here as fast as I could!” Helaena is a tornado of violets, lavenders, and magentas, purple her chosen color of the day as she spins into the room, tucking her backpack into the lockable cabinet by Aemond’s knees.

The girl’s smile is a thing of beauty and even if it’s for Helaena, Aemond will keep it for himself.

“Good morning, Hel. No worries, your brother’s been keeping me company.”

Helaena spares him a look, sending a delicately sharp elbow right into his ribs.

“Has he? It must be your lucky day- he usually scares off the customers that aren’t on the schedule.”

Aemond throws a sturdy blunt elbow into her shoulder and revels in the wince that she tries to hide.

“Mmmm, not scared off yet. But if you would’ve given us a few more minutes, who knows?” A wink is sent his way, showing she means it in all good fun. Aemond fires a smile back at her, curling his lip up in a smirk he knows carries some weight to it. She swallows- he can see the jump in her throat, before she damn near flings her reason for coming in onto the counter.

“Here! She came in yesterday towards closing time, a special delivery just for you.”

Hel snatches it with greedy hands, unknotting the twine laced through the handles so she can stick her whole face into the bag.

“Oh my word, it's beautiful!” Helaena exclaims, wonderment turning her tone soft and breathy. Aemond can’t stunt his curiosity, knocking his sister’s head out of his way to peer into the gift bag.

“It looks moldy.”

Mystery woman looks mildly offended by his assessment, but it’s his sister that thwacks him in the chest.

“Shut it! You and Aegon practically drowned my cactus when I went on holiday last summer; what do you know about plants? It’s stunning and wonderful and all mine!” Helaena pulls out the plant with careful hands, gathering up the trailing vines like she’s lassoing a rope.

Hel oooo’s and ahhh’s , rubbing the silver spotted leaves between her fingers, smelling the somewhat heart-shaped sprouts for any lingering fragrance. Aemond’s surprised she doesn’t pop one in her mouth and give it a taste.

“A cactus?”

Aemond shrugs, happy to have the woman’s attention back on him, even if it is at his expense. “It looked thirsty.”

The giggle she gifts him makes his 5AM alarm worth it.

Helaena claps her hands together twice, calling attention to her like she’s a nursery school teacher. “Tell me about it- what’s its name and how do I keep it alive?”

“It’s a Scindapsus pictus, but satin Pothos or silver Philodendron is easier to remember. Even though it’s not technically a Pothos or a Philodendron, it’s in the Araceae family, which can be confusing, y’know? It’s naturally from the Hills of Andalos but it can also be found from Tyrosh all the way to Pinkmaiden.”

The siblings blink at her, both enjoying how she waxes on about something obviously interesting to her, even though it sounds like Dothraki to them. The brunette takes notice of their silence, tapering off her anecdotes while wearing a quiet, bemused grin.

“Anyways,” she twists the ring around her pinky in circles of nervous energy, “lots of light, water her like once a week, and she should thrive.”

“She’s perfect! Oh thank you for picking her out for me, darling. I’ll take such good care of her." Helaena has a way of hugging you with her words. It fills you with the warm and fuzzies, and the girl looks stuffed to the brim with them. She sighs though, shouldering the strap of her bag into place.

“I gotta get back to the shop- my early lunch break can’t go past 7:20, or Miss Olenna will be pissed if I’m not there to let her windowshop the roses.”

Helaena flutters around the counter, gushing promises of midday coffee dates and takeaway dinners before sweeping up the other girl in a rocking embrace.

The woman beams, happiness a good look on her, before pecking his sister’s cheek in parting. She pushes open the shop door, ducking out before catching it right before it closes. Her head pops back in, and the same stubborn curl from before has come loose again, twisting around the corner of her eye.

“It was nice meeting you, Aemond.”

“Likewise…” Did he not catch her name once the entire time? Fuck him and his so-called manners.

Her smile is so bright, it burns itself behind his eyelids. “Ysilla.”

“Likewise, Ysilla.” Aemond rolls her name off of his tongue, discovering he quite likes the taste of her. A gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl.

She bids him a little wave of her hand before shutting the door softly. She looks both ways before darting across the roadway and into roots., an aptly named nursery that bursts at the brick with vegetation and flowers.

Aemond turns on his sister with alarming agility.

“Alright, share with the class. Who was that?”

“That’s Ysilla, Aem. Duh. She runs the plant shop across the street.”

He resists the urge to flick her in the forehead. His trainers are new and he doesn’t want her size seven foot print scuffing them up.

“I’ve never seen her before.”

“Well you would, if you ever bothered to come out of your room and meet our neighbors. She’s been in charge for about a year and a half now. Mr. Forel is an old flame of her gran’s, or something like that, and she needed a job when he was thinking of retiring. So, perfect timing, I guess.” Hel fluffs the leaves, turning the plant pot this way and that, trying to decide which angle is most appealing. She carts it around the shop, holding it up to the spaces she’s thinking of occupying it with.

“What are you two, besties?” Aemond is so not jealous. Nah, never. Nope. No way, no how.

Helaena pauses, looking thoughtful before resuming her decorating.

“I’m kind of trying to be, but she goes to class after she’s done at the shop and if she’s not doing that, she has three brothers she helps take care of when her mum is working. So I stop off when I can and chat with her so we can catch up.”

Helaena cheers as she steps off the footstool she keeps around for high reaching access, admiring the vines cascading from the partition wall that divides the waiting room from her piercing studio.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” His sister is obviously speaking about the plant.

Aemond stares through the window across the street, the tan stucco building a bright bustle of life next to the high brow boutique to its left and Hot Pie’s bakery to its right. The numerous hanging pots from the ledge above the doorway would 100% split his skull if he wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking. Big glass windows are crowded by giant emerald fronds and stalks of leafy sprouts. The flower pots mirroring each side of the doorway are starting to wilt with the season, but the vibrant highlights of color splash a last breath of life against the stone.

If Aemond squints, he can catch a dark head of curls bouncing behind the register.

Maybe a plant wouldn’t be a bad addition to his shelves.

“Without a doubt.”

#hotd #aemond targaryen #ysilla targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #modern hotd #modern aemond targaryen #my writing

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fallinginvictus · 5 months ago

Note

do you have any wips at all for the time loop au? 🙏🙏

WIP Wednesday Andrew & Aaron Time Loop AU

I haven't had time to write lately so I only have a tiny little bit of the first part of chapter 3 and I'm not actually sure that's how it's going to stay when I actually post the whole chapter but I'll post anyways.

part one

part two

tw: character death, suicide, mention of drug abuse, Tilda, suicidal thoughts

“You're a parasite,” his mother had told him once when he was five, her head resting on the couch, her black eyes staring at the ceiling, her clouded mind lost in the high. “You suck everything out of me and then still expect me to give you more of my love.”

Aaron stood there for a second, his puffy little hands holding tightly onto the drawing he had been trying to show her, the mother he had drawn staring lovingly at him, the mother in real life taking a puff of her cigarette, her eyes never leaving the ceiling, never looking at her son.

“I just wanted to give you the gift that I made you,” he tried to defend himself with a pout on his lips, hoping his mother would want to look at it, look at him. Hoping she would smile and thank him for his thoughtfulness, for his kindness. Hoping she would acknowledge his existence.

“I just wanted,” his mother repeated mockingly, grey smoke slithering out of her lips. “That's all you do, Aaron. You want and you want and you want and you never once think about how much you take from people. As long as you get what you want you are willing to suck me dry.”

“I-I wasn't asking to take anything,” he said softly, tears pooling in his eyes. “I just wanted to give you a gift to make you happy.”

At those words his mother's gaze finally turned towards Aaron, her black eyes looking straight through him.

“To make me happy?” she scoffed before extending her long, pale fingers towards him. “Show me then.”

Aaron hesitated for a second, his hold on his precious drawing getting tighter, the paper wrinkling in his hands.

“Come on now,” his mother tilted her head, a grin painted on her thin lips, her coral-red lipstick a little smudged. “You wanted to show me my gift, so show me my gift.”

Aaron stepped forward, a spark of hope lighting inside of his chest, the drumming of his own heart echoing in his ears, a little smile forming on his lips as he carefully handed the drawing to his mum. He had worked on it for hours that morning while she was busy getting high, he had picked his best colours and tried his hardest to stay inside the lines. It was a drawing of his mum and Aaron holding hands, big and happy smiles drawn on their faces, colourful butterflies were dancing all around them and a big yellow sun was shining on the top-right corner of the page.

“This is me and you,” he said as he shily pointed towards the two stick figures on the paper and then he placed a kiss on her cheek, his soft lips meeting the hardness of her cheekbone, his warm hands gently holding onto her cold shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“You made this just for me,” she said, arching a perfectly trimmed brow.

“For my mummy,” he nodded while smiling at her. “A gift to make you happy.”

“Oh, to make me happy you say?” she chuckled. Her tone made Aaron take two steps back and he stumbled a little when his naked feet got tangled in the black carpet. His mother's eyes were cold, the black of her pupils drowning the light brown of her eyes, none of the softness that he sometimes saw in them was visible.

“Yes I-”

“So you didn't give it to me so that I could thank you and tell you how good you are?”

Aaron didn't reply. He hadn't made her the drawing to get compliments but a part of him had still hoped for them, had hoped to hear nice words and receive warm smiles. Had hoped for warmth and love, for attention.

“See Aaron?” she said, her eyes burning holes into his skin. “You pretend to be such a lovely boy who only wants to please others but you can't fool me, I'm your mother. I know you like nobody else does. I put up with it because I love you, but no one else other than me will ever be able to put up with your selfish behaviour, with your endless needs, with your wanting and taking. I can see right through you.”

☆☆

As he lays on his unmade bed, the darkness of his room engulfing his body and his mind, Aaron finally feels light and free, the weight of the sky no longer resting on his shoulders, the cloud of darkness that had for so long engulfed his lungs finally dissipating.

He stays there for a while, staring at the darkness, searching for a crack in his heart, an ounce of doubt in his blood, regret in his mind. He searches thoroughly and critically, every thought gets analysed and pulled apart, every emotion gets dissected and categorised, and only when he's sure that nothing at all has been overlooked he finally gets out of bed, ready to face the final day of his life.

He takes longer than usual in the shower, letting the hot streams of water untangle his muscles, warm his bones. He uses all of his shampoo and conditioner, until there is not one drop left inside the bottles. He lets the water wash over him until it starts to turn cold, until there is no hot water left at all. When he finally steps out of the shower, condensation has filled the air and all of the glass surfaces and mirrors are fogged over. Aaron prefers it that way, he doesn't want to look at his face, doesn't want the reminder of what he's leaving behind. Of who he's leaving behind.

When he looks at his phone it's thirty-two minutes past seven in the morning and Aaron's heart stops beating for a few seconds: Andrew had called him five times.

A few seconds later it rings again, the phone vibrating in his hand as the ringtone fills the air, covering the sound of his now racing heart.

“What? Is something wrong?” Aaron asks as soon as he picks up the phone, worry crawling under his skin and spreading throughout his body, rooting him to the ground. Andrew would never call him of his own free will, he would never contact him unless something had gone terribly wrong.

“Are you still clean?” is what Andrew says from the other side of the line, his voice sounding strange, strained.

“What?” Aaron's blood turns into ice, freezing his veins. His thoughts drift towards the hospital's supply room, towards what he knows will take place that afternoon. For a second, for a naive and stupid second, Aaron feels touched and warmth tries to melt his frozen veins: maybe Andrew still cares for him, he thinks, maybe he still wants for Aaron to be safe.

“Just answer. Are you still clean?”

“Yes, I am. Almost 10 years.”

“Do you feel like using again?” The question feels like a trick, a trap.

“No,” he says and smiles a little: he doesn't feel like using again but it doesn't mean he won't.

“Good. Don't,” Andrew says before hanging up the phone.

Once Andrew's voice is gone and only silence can be heard in his empty house, Aaron feels hollow again. He wants to call his brother back, to hear him talk about his day, his week, his life; he wants to tell him about his annoying neighbour and his stupid little dog that barks all day and night and won't let Aaron rest; he wants to go to a café and eat three different types of cakes and discuss with him which one is better; he wants Andrew to trust him and confide in him; he wants to confess his pain and tell Andrew that there is a tiredness in him that won't ever leave him, that drags him down. He wants Andrew to burst through his door and save him. He wants and wants and wants and he hates his mother for being right: he's a parasite that will never be satisfied. Aaron won't suck Andrew and Nicky dry like he did with his mother.

☆☆

When he was thirteen, Aaron discovered that he had a brother, a twin, and something that he thought had long been lost sparked in chest again after years of laying dormant between his ribs: hope.

The whole night he paced around his bedroom, up and down and down and up, his whole body buzzing with that long forgotten feeling, thoughts getting tangled in his brain as he tried to organise them, to make sense of them.

He had a twin brother.

He stood in front of the broken and dirty floor-length mirror at the side of his room and stared at himself for what felt like hours but couldn't have been more than a few minutes: in front of him stood his reflection, dark circles under his eyes, hollowed-out cheeks and sharp cheekbones, rosey lips and messy blond hair. Soon enough there wouldn't just be a mindless reflection standing in front of him, but a real-life human with feelings and thoughts, a brother that looked just like him, a twin that had once been part of him, with whom he had shared the first nine months of his life.

He walked towards his desk and ripped a page from his chemistry notebook. He stared at it for a while, thinking about what he should write. He knew he was an unlovable child, he knew his personality was unlikeable and his mere presence exhausting; he wasn't friendly and he wasn't funny, he was neither sweet nor cute and he had never once been good at making friends, but he was desperate, the need to make a good first impression was burnings in his veins.

He picked up a black-ink pen. He had stolen it from one of his classmates, it was new and expensive, the gel ink rich and deep.

Five different times he began to write his letter and five different times he ripped out the page, his hands shaking, his breaths getting erratic. Aaron had never been a writer, had never liked reading, had never cared about literature, often falling asleep during Mr. Jackson lessons and now he could do nothing but curse at himself for such oversight: he didn't want his brother to think of him as an illiterate idiot who couldn't string two sentences together.

Aaron had never felt more dumb than he did on that Thursday evening as he tried his best to present himself as someone that Andrew could love, someone that was worthy of love.

☆☆

“You look happy today Doctor Minyard,” is the first thing he hears when he walks in front of the nurses station. “Did something good happen?”

Aaron smiles at Nurse Mary, “Just a good day,” he shrugs. Maybe it is a lie or maybe it isn't, Aaron isn't sure anymore.

The day passes slowly and then all at once, a strange feeling buzzing under his skin, electricity licking up his veins. He wonders if it's anticipation or dread, joy or sadness. He wonders if maybe it's a mixture of every emotion that he has ever felt throughout his life. It had been so long since he had felt so much and so strongly; it had been so long since he had felt something other than emptiness and loneliness for a prolonged period of time. He can't decide whether he enjoys the feeling or if he despises it.

He feels guilty as he walks towards the supply room: all around him are those afflicted by unimaginable sicknesses and pains and every day and every night they fight as hard they can to keep their lives: they hold on tightly onto a thin rope that is on the brink of snapping, their knuckles white, their hands bloody, their muscles aching from the strain. And here Aaron is, forfeiting his life as if it means nothing.

The keypad beeps four times, short and loud, and then a third time as the door opens. Aaron takes a deep breath as he steps inside and closes the door behind himself, the dim light inside the small room casting shadows on his face, the stale air making him feel as if he's going to suffocate at any moment. There's a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and a slight shake overtakes his hands as he tightly grips the glass vial. He stops for a second as the syringe sinks into the grey rubber stopper, his laboured breaths the only sound inside the quiet room.

There is a second after Aaron sinks the syringe in his body where flashes of Nicky's warm smile and Andrew's concerned face dance behind his eyelids, a moment where he could change his mind, put the syringe away and walk out of that room alive. But the faces disappear as quickly as they had appeared, smothered by the knowledge that he would only suck them dry, that his wants and needs would only ever hurt them. No matter how hard he tries to keep his wants sealed inside of his chest, beneath his ribs, Aaron knows that they would always find a way to escape. He's a parasite, his existence would only ever bring pain to those around him.

He pushes the morphine in his veins.

That morning he had told Andrew that he didn't feel like using again and while it had been true it hadn't been the full truth. Aaron had long since learnt that a drug addict could never stop being a drug addict. He could get clean and he could stay clean, but the addiction would never fully leave him, a part of him would always crave the drugs, the high, like a broken bone that had never healed quite right and would ache when it rained and when it snowed.

When the morphine finally makes its home in his veins, Aaron welcomes her like an old friend. He lets himself feel the euphoria as it rushes through his body and down his veins, as it reaches his every cell. His body goes limp and he slumps against the wall, the syringe slipping from his fingers. Aaron had forgotten what happiness felt like but as he lays on the snow-white hospital tiles, he thinks he has finally found it again. Maybe drugs, he ponders, had been his only real friends.

His brain goes numb after a while, a dense fog making its way inside of his mind, clouding his thoughts, blurring his vision. His body feels heavy and he lets it fall to the ground, the sound of his head forcefully hitting the ground echoing inside of the silent room. Aaron doesn't even notice. Nothing hurts anymore, the constant and unbearable ache that is his loneliness now hidden inside of the dense fog that is clouding his brain.

Why couldn't you make me just a little lovable, Aaron asks God as he falls into darkness. Why do I always have to be alone?

#aaron minyard #aftg #aftg fanfic #andrew minyard #twinyards #all for the game fanfic #fanfiction #tilda minyard #twinyards time loop au

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