#get you a man who's not only twice your height but can also hold you with one arm! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lizard-shifter-noms · 1 year ago

Text

Wayward Waters Chapter 5

——————————————————————————

Hello everyone! Chapter 5!

time to explore more of the world!

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

have fun reading!

and as always Reblogs are appreciated! (Also ASK’s are open so feel free to bother me!)

AO3 Link for those that prefer the layout there;

AO3 Wayward waters

——————————————————————————

I missed home, but right now i had no idea where the fuck i was.

Only that I was on some island with a big ass eel pit that injured one of the Crewmembers of the ship I had landed on somehow.

And now I was sitting on a slope in my Giant form with a Birdlegged Maniac who was used as a pillow by a sea serpent.

In all honesty? Fuck.

The last I had seen of my friends was in the storm that had thrown me off the ship I was supposed to be on and now one of the guys that found me and said he'd help me was out of commission.

I glanced over to Jamie, who had given up trying to remove Imugi’s head by now and was just lying there.

They looked sad, but not sad sad, rather the kind where one tried to hide they were sad.

I looked around for anything helpful but the only things I saw were more rocks, some sand and a few palm trees which were barely the length of my under arm.

Palm trees hmm…

A VERY stupid idea came into my head.

I slowly stood up so as not to startle them and walked over to the nearest tree, a dingy little thing that had broken almost in half by the storm.

Wouldn't make it for long now anyway and was only holding on by a thread.

Good thing too, Robin would never forgive me if I ripped out a healthy plant.

I positioned myself so that they couldn't see and tried to get the tree as quietly as possible, which was only half successful.

“The HELL you doing over there? I swear if you do something shady I will get the paint bucket we have on board and pour it into your nostrils!”

That had to be the weirdest threat I had ever received, and I lived in the same castle as Nea.

Man, I even missed her too, how absolutely stupid.

Whatever, I put the tree in my hand so it looked like it grew out from there before turning around.

Holding the hand with the tree up so it could be easily seen.

“Look, Palm tree”

Jamie made a choking noise before starting to full on laugh, keeling back over while Imugi looked confusedly at them before slinking back into the ocean.

“Your jokes are so bad I don't even know why I'm laughing at them!”

I just shrugged.

“Maybe they're funny because they're bad? Or your sense of humor is just as bad as my jokes”

Jamie made a noncommittal noise and I sprawled out on the grass where I was.

“Yo Kitty cat, how tall are you? You're like as tall as Imugi is long”

How tall i was? Well human form was around 5’10, for the giant one i could only guess.

“Uhh dunno? Like thirty feet? I can't exactly measure myself easily like this”

I heard shuffling and turning my head to look. I saw that Jamie had taken the measuring rope which had kind of started all of this mess with Ronan.

“Well then, hold still and I can check! We already went through so much chaos to get this stupid rope that we might as well use it!”

Well, fair.

“Yeah, it would be nice knowing how tall I am exactly, Is the rope long enough for that?”

They shrugged.

“Only one way to find out, also this thing is like fifty feet or so if not i can still measure twice and use math to figure it out”

They walked up next to my head with one end of the rope, setting it down on the same height as my scalp.

“Can you use your thumb to hold this end to the ground? I think id just drag it away if i tried”

I nodded and pressed the end of the rope into the ground while Jamie walked along my side down to my knees, counting the feet as they went.

I did wonder how tall I actually was, so far I had just estimated myself to be around thirty feet but I wasn't sure if that was accurate.

Probably not.

I did my best not to move as Jamie walked along my side, both to not mess up the measuring and to not startle the Bird Legged weirdo.

“FORTY FIVE FEET!”

I sat up abruptly at Jamie's shout, seeing the sun already low in the sky.

“What? Forty five? That's fifteen more than I thought!”

Huh, then again I had never really had anything to accurately measure myself with.

“Yeah! Forty five! You must be bad at math!”

“Does math have anything to do with me misjudging my height?”

Jamie flicked the rope and started coiling it up.

“Well according to some nerds everything is math somehow, So who cares?”

Well, I was the first to admit that there was a lot I didn't know, but everything was math? Who came up with that?

“Well, what now? Are we stuck on the island? I'm sure my friends worry about me and I'd like to get to them as fast as possible! And Ronan needs an actual Medic!”

Jamie tilted their head at me, and for a painful second I was reminded of Oakley, god I missed all of them.

Especially Robin.

“Well, bringing Ronan to a doc, an actual one not whatever Imik and Akeem are doing would come first, but the doc is also back at our base and we need to go there anyway for the map n’ shit.

So i guess now that our Captain’s injured well probably go there faster anyway, so i guess you get your wish”

Harsh, but true.

“Well i did want to get home as fast as possible but not like that, i hope he'll be okay, he will be okay right?”

Jamie just shrugged and waved to follow them, which I did, slowly.

“I'm sure he'll get over it, it's not the first time he got bitten by a electric eel, just never so many, also he managed to get through a fuckton of other weird injuries, so yeah hell be fine, he don't got enough brain for it to be damaged further anyway”

So Ronan would be okay in the end, good to hear.

“Hey! So you can shift into that fuzzy thing and into a giant right? Do you have anything more portable than that? Well be faster if you're not so fucking oversized”

Well, yes, but I hadn't done so because I hadn't trusted them thus far, but if we could go faster…

I waited for a moment that Jamie was looking forward to the boat and then turned the Gem on the bracelet, shrinking down to my human size.

The next time they turned to face me I was already back in my human form and they let out a startled screeching noise that grated in my pointy ears.

“You could do that the entire time? What the fuck! You should have done that sooner!”

“Well, i didn't know you guys, and i'm less likely to be stabbed as a giant creature, also the entire thing with my second heart starting to work and i didn't know if shifting would fuck it up even more”

“...Fair point, let's get back on the ship and jumpscare Imik!”

“What? Why? And why Imik?”

“Cuz Akeem can't be scared, also it's funny seeing Imiks Webbed ears Flare up in alarm!”

So just for fun then, yeah that was okay.

“Well, as long as it's okay I don't see why not, but shouldn't we focus on getting Ronan to the Doc you mentioned?”

Their face lost the mischievous touch.

“Ugh yeah fair, let's go on board and toss Imugi the Halfter so she can tow us away from the island”

They walked up the plank to the Boat and I followed behind,

almost slipping one time as the wood was slick under my feet and the Orange tinted sky made weird shadows.

“If you fall in i will laugh”

“If I fall in, I will make sure the splash hits only you!”

As stupid as being stuck away from my friends was at least the banter with Jamie was a little funny, they were gruff sure, but not malicious.

“Come on Kitty cat! Help me toss the tow thing to Imugi!”

I followed them up to the front of the boat where a variety of stuff was bolted down or straight up Built into the ship, like the box in the front.

The Box looked to be lockable and Jamie yanked out a weird construction of rope and metal, the front part reminding me of the thing they put into the mouth of a horse to ride it.

Then they tossed the front half into the water and hooked the part still on the ship into a pair of curved metal things that were bolted to the boat itself.

So that was the thing Imugi used to tow the boat! Interesting.

“Did you know that Imugi is named that because Ronan kept her in a mug for the first two weeks of her life? Apparently she was TINY! And ‘IN MUG’ became Imugi at some point”

What? That sea monster used to fit in a mug? A bucket I could maybe believe, but a mug?

“She was that tiny? Wait, why was she kept in a mug?”

Jamie shrugged.

“Orphanage probably wouldn't have taken kindly to a sea monster in the house, he left after Imugi got to big to hide, somehow got a boat and a bunch of idiots to help him out”

“You're also one of those Idiots, you're aware right?”

They waved me off.

“Yeah yeah, whatever, to get on this ship you gotta have a few screws loose anyway, and even more so if you end up staying”

Well, at least they were self aware.

There was a sudden tug on the boat and I leaned over to see what it was.

Apparently Imugi had found the tow thingy despite the Ocean getting dark before the sky and was slowly dragging it through the water, Boat and all attached.

Jamie hopped down from the railing and walked towards the stairs, the movement of their legs reminding me of a strutting pigeon.

Yeah, I'd better never mention that, as funny as the mental image might be.

I followed them down the stairs back onto the deck.

“Do we need to steer the boat if Imugi is towing it?”

“Nah, she knows where to go, she's not stupid she’ll know that with one of us injured the best thing to do is go Home”

Well, that was relieving, I doubted Jamie could steer properly, or even if so that they would do so in a normal way.

The sound of a door opening drew my attention while Jamie walked up the mast to the crows nest again.

Turning my head around I saw that it was Akeem, who softly closed the door behind him.

He looked at me unblinkingly for a moment, could he even blink? and then carried on past me as if nothing was amiss.

He opened a hatch in the floor and pulled out an Telescope, hit the mast one time and then tossed the thing up where Jamie caught it in their claws with a single leg.

Impressive, I had to admit that.

Despite their insane shenanigans they managed to function pretty well as a team.

Once again I was made aware of my own friends not being here with a pang.

I hoped i could go home soon, they were nice yes, but i'd rather go back to Tunstead and the Castle in Kamerasca.

Akeem then turned to me and I once again wondered if the guy had to blink at all, him being completely, well, Stone faced.

“Ronan is alright for now, we will head to Kariba Island as fast as possible to get him proper treatment, then after we have brought him to a doctor we will see that we find you a way to get home”

“Thank you so much, can I help somehow? I'm not good with boats or medicine but i can move heavy stuff”

The stone man shook his head.

“We are alright for now, should we need your help i will let you know”

With that he left again and went into the boat.

Huh, thus far I haven't set a single foot into the ship itself, eh whatever.

Also Kariba Island? Hadn't heard that before.

I wondered where on the map that was and what the island itself looked like.

Eh, I'd find out soon enough.

Soo… what to do now? I was stuck on the ship with nothing to do, and I did not want to sleep just yet as i was not tired.

I did not like that, it gave my brain time to think about Home which made me miss it all the more.

I Looked up the mast to the crows nest at the top.

One could probably see pretty far from there.

If Jamie could climb it with sweater covered hands then surely i could climb it normally!

I went up to the wooden structure and tried to jump up as far as possible only to slide right back down despite my best efforts to hold on.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Came Jamie's voice from above and glancing up I could see their head looking down at me.

“I'm trying to climb! Maybe I'll get lucky and see something I know!”

As unlikely as it was, it would at least distract me from thinking too much.

“Well you're doing a shit job at trying to get up here!”

“Help me then!” “Nah, watching you struggle is funnier”

I rolled my eyes at the retort and tried again to get up, only to slide down again while I wrapped my legs around the mast and held on with my hands.

“How the fuck do you do it? And with fabric covered hands no less?!”

“Hah! I'm just used to it! Tell ya what! If you can get up here with no help I'll give you one of my shiny pebbles!”

I was about to retort that I had no use for shiny pebbles when I saw what Jamie was holding up.

A whole ass Ruby the size of a thumb, partially obscured by the sweater which still covered their hands.

Even in the weird light of the late evening it was clearly visible, especially against the blue fabric.

Well, admittedly i had no need for it seeing as i lived at the castle but damn if that wasn't enticing.

“Where did you even get that?”

“Sometimes I help Imik crack open Boxes from sunken ships! So I get to keep some of the stuff!”

Huh, true sunken ships might contain treasure but one had to get lucky to get anything good.

“Alright, I'll get up there somehow!”

I tried to scale the smooth wood again and this time managed to get a little higher than before but fell down regardless.

“One should think that a guy able to turn into a giant cat could climb better than that!”

Well, true, but the Ardua form had claws…oh wait.

Jamie also used their claws to climb! Granted their bird-like feet were already better for climbing but maybe I should use my nails instead of trying to hold on with only my hands.

Yeah, I think I figured it out.

I slipped my shoes off and put them in one of the bolted down boxes so they wouldn't get lost and then went back to scaling the mast.

This time it worked! Without shoes and using all of my nails to grip better I actually managed to climb slowly up!

“Now you look like a monkey instead of a cat! Good thinking though!”

I looked up for a moment at Jamie's dumb comments and saw I was a little over halfway up by now.

Only a little bit to go!

I went at it and was nearly to the top in no time, noticing it was nearly dark now, damn how slow was i at climbing?

Then my hand slipped.

Before I could slip more or even fall Jamie's clawed leg had gripped my upper arm.

They pulled me up on the horizontal beam and I hung there for a moment like a piece of fabric.

“Ugh”

“Ayy you made it! Congrats!

You don't have to lay there like a wet towel though!”

Ohh this was a bit higher than i had originally thought.

I clung to the wood and tried not to think what kind of injuries I'd get should I fall from up here.

I also tried to calm my breathing and erratic heartbeat.

Well, heartbeats now, at least they were in sync now.

I decided to stop looking straight down and instead looked at Jamie.

Huh, they had made the vantage point into an actual nest, sticks included.

There also was a variety of knicknacks lying around, including some valuable looking things like gems and gold.

They held out a mishmash of shiny and glittery things in a cracked wooden bowl, still covering their hands with the blue sweater.

I wondered what was up with that but decided against asking.

Not my business, and there might be a reason as to why.

“Well, ya made it! As promised you get to pick whatever you want from the shiny stuff in the bowl!”

I continued to cling to the wood with all of my limbs but still peered into the bowl that Jamie held out to me.

There was the aforementioned ruby of course, which glinted despite the sun being almost gone by now, but also a variety of other stuff, some of which were fossils?

One in particular caught my eye, It looked like a crystalized sea star about half the size of my thumb.

The crystal itself was a pretty shimmering opal with hints of green and blue as well as orange.

Well, that would be one hell of a souvenir, and Fable said he liked stars so it would be perfect.

I pointed at the crystalized sea star, still clinging to the wood to not fall off.

Instead of handing the thing to me directly Jamie stuffed it into a little bag with a long cord and put it over my head like some sort of necklace.

“Now you don't lose it!”

“Thanks? I think”

They shrugged and leaned back in the surprisingly roomy nest-like build.

“Hey?”

“Hm?”

“How the fuck do i get down?”

They sat up again and looked down to the deck.

“Uhh, i just slide down or climb down, not sure if you'll manage that though”

“I'm NOT doing that, especially not now that it's getting dark! Please tell me there is some other way down?”

They stared at me.

“Well, only other way down would be to just fall, but i think that's worse for you”

Yes, yes it was.

“Oh fuckdamnit, what do I do now?”

“Eh, im sure Akeem will think of something tomorrow, or Imik though he's better at diving”

I looked at them with a deadpan expression even if most of that was probably lost in the slowly encroaching darkness.

“And what am I supposed to do now? I don't think I can cling the entire night to this piece of wood!”

“Uh, right, gimme a minute to make some space”

They haphazardly shoved anything pointy into one corner of the nest and then pulled me into it.

Despite being only four feet four at most they were pretty strong i had to admit that.

No wonder Imik asked for help cracking open old boxes.

I just flopped face first into it right where I was, shoving a handful of seashells away from where my head rested.

“I think this was a stupid idea, but quite frankly i don't care right now”

“You're laying there like a wet cat, have some dignity Kitty cat”

I just rolled my eyes at them and pulled my legs into the nest as well.

“Whatever, after climbing im too tired to care, you can wake me tomorrow you overgrown chicken”

With that i faced down again and used my crossed arms as a pillow.

It was only a minute later that I felt a clawed foot on my back, and then another.

Jamie settled on top of my back with what sounded like a very quiet chirp.

I was pretty sure for an onlooker they looked like a broody hen right now.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“You're warmer than the floor”

“Then get blankets or something, im not a fucking matress”

“You are now!”

With that they settled where they were and I could literally feel them poofing up like a little bird.

I gave up with a sigh, it wasn't worth the energy, Besides, it wasn't hurting me.

“Whatever, but if you fall of because i move its your own fault”

“Yeah yeah, i've fallen down before, its no that bad aside from the sprained toe i had once”

I just grumbled something into the floor.

“Hey, you good?”

“...i miss my friends, the last they saw of me was when i went overboard”

“Oh… well we are headed to get a map or whatever, or maybe there's a faster ship that will take you onboard?”

I just grumbled something into the floor, suddenly feeling worse than ever about being so far away.

“Hrmmmm”

I buried my face in the sticks so Jamie wouldn't see the tears in my eyes as I thought about what my friends could be doing right now.

Were they searching for me? Or did they already think I was dead?

Robin would surely push for a search but Rikaad, well, he usually only thought logically, and searching for me when I might be dead and he had something else to do wasn't logical.

He still had to stop the deserter fleet from Maringand and try to deal with the pirates.

And Arthur had no idea what even happened, he probably thought we were all on the boat doing stupid stuff.

My hands gripped one of the surrounding sticks and squeezed it till it broke.

As I buried my face even deeper into the sticks, which weren't as uncomfortable as expected, I felt Jamie move off of me.

They did not say anything but I could sense them right next to me.

Suddenly there was the sensation of a hand raking through my hair.

The hand was coarse, almost scaly and the fingers seemed to be tipped with claws.

Jamie's hand? No wonder they hid them in the sweater, people aren't nice to anything they deemed dangerous, and claws definitely counted as that.

I didn't move, or even make any attempt to glance at their hands to see what they looked like exactly.

The only thing I did notice was the number of fingers, five.

So definitely not like Oakley.

I kept lying there unmoving as Jamie detangled my messy hair somewhat, picking out salt and other stuff found in the sea that had gotten stuck there as I fell into the water in the storm.

The word preening popped into my head for a second.

As much as I did not want to admit it, the sensation of claws gently scratching at my scalp was strangely soothing.

I maneuvered my arms to be around my head so I could hide my face even better.

Just as Jamie didn't want me to see their hands, I didn't want them to see the silent tears running down my face.

God, I missed my friends, even Nea.

Despite having a person next to me who I was on good terms with, I had never felt lonelier.

Maybe because I finally knew what it was like to have friends and didn't want to lose that.

I tucked the arm with the bracelet under me and shielded my face with the other.

I stayed like that and let Jamie mess with my hair until I fell asleep, not once giving in to the temptation of looking at their hands as curious as I might have been.

I was who knew when later awoken to shortness of breath and a slap to the face.

I sat up abruptly, panting and gasping for air.

I looked around frantically, not recognizing anything as my sight refused to focus, leaving everything blurry while hyperventilating.

I gripped at my chest, feeling both of my hearts beat wildly and making the thumping sound echo in my ears.

Then I got a second slap to the face and my eyes finally focused somewhat.

“Whh?”

“Man you almost fell off! Are you okay?”

I looked at the person talking to me, noticing frizzy hair and a blue sweater.

“I- uh, Jamie?”

“Yeah! Who else could get up here?”

My brain was working too much and too little at the same time and I felt nauseous.

“Dude calm down, i don't want to slap you a third time”

I rolled over and dry heaved, actually glad to not need to eat right now.

“Do I need to get Imik or Akeem?”

I shook my head, still feeling awful.

There was no mistaking the way my limbs shook and my mind reeled with Images id rather not remember.

“No… im- im fine, just give me… some- some time okay?”

While I never had one prior it didn't take a genius to figure out I just had a panic attack, and even now my hearts were beating like mad in my chest and I felt weak, trying to steady my breathing.

“You don't look fine, what the fuck happened?”

I could sense them poofing up next to me while I leaned my head on the rim of the nest.

I closed my eyes tightly to try and banish the Images of corpses on a bloody field and an Injured Fable.

When that didn't work I opened them as looking at the ground way below me was better than those images.

“Hah… Panic attack, when i got tossed overboard i left the medicine from Oakley in my cabin”

“PANIC ATTACK? You don't think mentioning something like that beforehand would be a good idea? You would have fallen off hadn't I grabbed you!”

I groaned and tried to calm my shaking limbs and racing hearts.

“I never- never had one before! Didn't think i- id get one”

Suddenly a hand shoved my chest down again and a pillow was shoved under my head.

“Lay down dumbass, i'm going to get Imik”

“Wh-?”

Before I could say anything they had started climbing down already.

So instead I let my head sink onto the pillow and tried to calm down, repeating the breathing exercises I had shown Robin so long ago.

Breath in four seconds.

Hold for seven.

Then out for eight.

God, all of this sucked.

At least without needing to eat, I didn't have the problem of throwing up.

The random dry heaving wasn't any more pleasant though.

I rolled onto my back to the best of my ability and just stared at the blue sky, my vision still a little blurry.

I decided to lay there with shaky limbs until Jamie came back.

I felt absolutely awful, I never wanted this again, but I had no hopes of this being a one time thing.

I dug the heels of my palms into my eyes in an attempt to make the flashes of Images stop, not keen on reliving the moment Oakley Burned like a dry leaf.

Or the time Fable fell into the river after he got shot in the foot.

I rolled to my side and tucked my knees to my torso, dry heaving again which caused uncomfortable muscle spasms in my abdomen.

My two hearts were still beating wildly, but at least they were in sync now.

For the moment I just lay there trying not to get another panic attack and waiting for Jamie or whoever else to help me get off this stupid mast.

While I lay there I could hear the sound of metal thunking against wood and I closed my eyes tightly as it happened again, curling up and putting my hands over my ears as the sound came again, being horribly reminded of the sound the Arrows had made when they hit flesh.

Luckily the sound stopped as I was about to start hyperventilating again, but I still couldn't bring myself to move, staying where I was, curled up and with shaky limbs.

I was vaguely aware of Jamie being back and Imik also somehow being up here.

Akeem was probably too heavy.

I tried to look at them through my unfocused eyes but only saw blurry shapes.

“Its okay, calm down”

I heard one of them speak but through the white noise in my ear I could not tell who it was.

I flinched away when I felt a hand touching me.

“AKEEM! TOSS ME THE STUFF!”

Stuff? What stuff?

The blurry shapes moved and I could make out one of them leaving my line of, very blurry, sight.

Judging by the amount of yellow I could make out it was Imik.

He held a stick or something under my face before breaking it in half.

I smelled something weird, like an overly sweet plant but with a slight hint of rotten leaves.

It made my head swim and my thoughts blur together into a deep thrum.

My limbs feel heavy as well and I lost whatever little focus I had in favor of the fogginess.

Shortly after that my entire vision went black and I was back to being unconscious.

NEXT / PREVIOUS / OVERSIGHT

#sstc #lizards writing #vore story #giant/tiny #Sea of Barmea #mentions of panic attack #mentions of injury #mentions of death #ocean #Ship #sea serpent #sea monster #nsx vore

11 notes · View notes

lmelodie · 1 year ago

Text

Familiar Territory

BlackIce for Valentines Day!!! LET'S GOOO! A few years after Chance and Choice, BlackIce being back together for a hot second by this point.

I'm gonna be so fr, this little one shot has made me realize that I maybe don't know how to write fluff for these bitches?? It was harder than I thought it would be! There are other more fluffy concepts in my wips but this one has a lot more substance.

Oh, also y'all remember Ryder from this little doodle dump? The Mermaid? His character got overhauled and his name is Rowan now lol.

Bonus doodle at the very end, ENJOY!

Anyone from the magical realms will tell you, with varying levels of jealousy, that there are plenty of places that a magical being can roam about freely amongst human kind with minimal or even no cloaking involved. One of these being New York City, wherein everyone seems at least a little bit off kilter or odd in a way that blends everyone together in their strangeness. So realistically in the height of the Christmas season, no one would ever notice, or at least look twice at a very seasonally appropriate man in a blue suit in the midst of an otherwise normal group of friends.

"Join us! Join us! JOIN US!" Lucy’s chants fade into and then quickly out of earshot to Killian as her and Jack skate by yet another time on their route around the rink. She turns around on her skates and holds onto Jack’s shoulder so he can keep pulling her along as she waves down her fellow redhead as they go for another lap around.

She shouted the same thing to him for the last five laps and just like those other times he paid her no mind, glued to his chain smoking spot leaning against a nearby column.

The ambience of the Winter Village rink during Christmas on the edge of dusk was the pinnacle of experiencing the Christmas spirit that particular day. Even in her early twenties her enthusiasm for such things has never wavered, bouncing off the walls all day and Jack, Killian and Rowan were all subject to her special brand of holiday energy. Which includes her insisting that Killian should get out on the ice with them.

He only showed up maybe an hour ago, knowing that Jack was somewhere in the city, but he overlooked the inevitable presence of his emotional support dormouse and her new squeeze. So the boogeyman patiently waits for them to finish off on the side of the rink, watching her spin back around to take Jack’s arm for the casual stroll. His presence unassumingly creates a breach of space in the crowd of civilians around him who fear to approach him any further for reasons they themselves cannot articulate.

“Behind you!” Rowan shouts out to the pair as he quickly catches up to them on their rotation.

A curiously out of sorts human pyromancer that swept the young woman off her feet about 6 months ago. The whole met in college love story between a wizard and a sorceress with the stack of dropped books that he offered to help her with and everything. A rigamarole of horrible cliches that they've been enjoying to no end.

He quickly catches up to the pair and crashes into Lucy from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and pushing her forward and away from Jack as they slow to a stop further ahead. She chuckles in good spirits with him all the same.

“How'd I do?” Rowan asks through gasps of air as he brushes back the brown shaggy hair from his face.

Lucy rolls up the sleeve on her overcoat to check her watch, “Fifteen laps around in…forty five minutes.”

"What!? Oh come on! I was really pushing it too,” he chuckles breathlessly.

“That's not a bad time at all! I don't think.”

"Eh. I've seen faster," Jack interjects as he quickly passes them by.

“Nobody asked you,” she shouts after him, quickly tilting her head up to Rowan. “Don't listen to him, your time was fine. If it's any consolation you were fast in my heart.”

Rowan snickers, “That doesn't even make sense.”

“It does so! Physics works differently in my heart. And what makes even more sense is getting a cocoa break,” she can feel her date dropping his arms from her waist as she takes his hand and pulls him along. “Keeping warm is important when someone likes to bite peoples fingers!”

Jack turns over his shoulder at the call out as they catch back up to him, “Excuse me? You've got the wrong guy here. I've worked hard to scrub that reputation clean ya know, and you're over here dragging my name back through the mud again. If you're looking for a finger biter, look at him.”

He vaguely gestures to Killian on the sidelines as the three of them complete the last lap and skate back up to the gate they entered at. Jack watches Lucy and Rowan exit the rink while he lingers behind on the ice and throws his elbows on the ledge. On cue, Killian throws the half burnt cigarette onto the floor and snuffs it out with boot, throwing his hands into his pockets to stroll over to where Jack has stopped.

“Your turn,” he says with a smug grin.

He rolls his eyes, “Absolutely not.”

“Why? Because you know you can't do it?”

“Yeah, actually. So what,” Killian shifts his weight slightly over to stand a fraction closer to the open gateway to the rink, the throngs of people moving about around him also move accordingly.

“So, I've been trying to teach you how for sky knows how long. It's your own fault you don't know.”

“None of that has been teaching, it was sabotaging,” he provides a ghost of a smile, “It's not a skill I need to know. There has never been a time where skating on the ice has ever been useful to me.”

“Says who?” Jack replies, “Who's to say it won't come in handy in the knick of time one of these days?”

“Me. That's never gonna happen so I don't need to learn.”

Jack gets an idea. Well, Jack had the idea ever since Killian showed up and has been simmering this entire time. It's the same idea he always has in locations and circumstances like these.

“Mhm, right. So why are you here exactly?” he asks with an air of feigned innocence.

Killian sighs, “Because I actually wanna do something fun for a change.”

“What, you're telling me that small children face planting onto the ice isn't fun?”

Killian looks out onto the ice with a small chuckle to see if any such occurrences would make themselves loudly known, “Oh don't get me wrong, that's always funny. Especially if you get a few right after the other in a stupid little domino effect. Or if all of them go down at once at the same time.”

Jack snorts in choking back a laugh, “Exactly. And I'm sure it would be a lot funnier from a better vantage point,” He says, motioning to the open gate.

Kills shakes his head, “Hah, nice try, but not in your immortal life. Now let's blow this ice cube stand and go west, I want a front row seat when the 405 gets backed up and wrecked from a freak blizzard.”

The marginally threatening tone and that one specific look was practically designed to catch a Yes as an answer, as the prospect was something they did often in the last couple years. Jack makes it seem he’s got him hook, line and sinker.

“Fine. I guess I can squeeze that into my very busy schedule—,” Jack pauses as he takes one foot off the ice, looking around the immediate vicinity before grabbing Killians arm with both hands, “—later!”

In one fell swoop Jack pulls Killian out onto the ice with subtle wisps of blue magic forming under his boots with each step to make blades of ice. A couple of sharp swears are heard as he clumsily stumbles into the rink, nearly slipping and falling at least twenty times in quick succession, forced to grab onto Jack as his only form of stability. He quickly comes to an unsteady stop, far enough away from the gate so he can't backtrack too easily and practically clings to Jack out of necessity, holding his breath.

Jack on the other hand keeps both of their weight steady by holding onto his upper arms with the biggest, shit eating smirk on his face. He lets him adjust his balance slightly as he lets the moment simmer for half a second, savoring it.

“Need help?” he finally says.

Killian's face uncharacteristically flushes, “No...! And fuck you!”

Jack can’t help but snicker while trying to help him stand up straighter and actually get moving somewhat, which his body language vehemently disagrees with and actively fights him against, “I just can't believe that after nearly two thousand years you still fall for it. Everytime. Truly amazing, have I ever told you how incredible you are?”

“Shut up! I’ll fucking kill you,” Killian grumbles, nearly sputters, tightening his grip on arms when his feet wobble a bit, “You are going to pay for this later, I swear to god.”

“Hm, promise?”

This actually earns a tiny laugh from him, but also gains a more menacing look, “You’d like that wouldn't you. Your just so fucking lucky that there’s so many people hERE—!”

Lucy and Rowan seated themselves on a nearby bench to watch Killian nearly fall again, each having their own cup of fresh cocoa. Lucy stretches and waves one of her arms in the air to catch their attention, “You're doing great Kills!”

“Lucy, I will break BOTH of your legs!”

Killian doesn't turn back but Jack looks directly at her with that same smug grin and a casual two finger salute to her as Killlian tries to steady himself again, clearly enjoying every precious second, knowing that it is a passing moment of superiority.

Lucy pays his threat no mind, Rowan beside her giving the two a more worried look for her safety as they survey the pair on the ice, their relative peace quickly devolves into their usual petty arguing about how Killian was only making things worse and Jack telling him to stop moving so much. This, turning a few heads of the other skaters that stay far, far away from the duo.

Rowan turns back to Lucy, giving a quick glance to her mug before pulling out his wand from an inside coat pocket. He brings the amber tip to trace the rim of the cup with a very soft glow, summoning trails of golden magic to follow its path and dip into the hot chocolate with fading sparkle and seeping the enchantment into the drink, making sure it stays at a perfectly hot temperature.

“You're almost as bad as him,” she softly smiles and brings the cup to her mouth, “you're not supposed to use magic out and about ya know.”

“It's not magic, it's…a prop,” he casually tries to excuse. “There's a Harry Potter store like, an hour away, it's fine. I just hate that the drinks get cold so fast.”

“Thanks,” her posture relaxes when taking another sip and leaning her head on his shoulder.

Rowan, while getting more used to it, still blushes slightly when she leans against him. He intuitively puts his free arm around her shoulder as they watch Killian struggle on the ice, with Jack trying not to laugh too hard at him. Lucy continues to egg him on from the sidelines with returned threats on her life, both her and Jack taking varying levels of enjoyment in his struggle for very different reasons.

#digital art #musings #CC #the santa clause #the santa clause 3 #BlackIce #jack frost #Lucy Miller #OC #its so hard to write fluff for these bitches!#impossible to think they DONT suffer in any given scenario

4 notes · View notes

sundrop-writes · 4 months ago

Text

I feel like Fred was EVERYONE'S childhood crush lmao. I mean I did want his brother REAL BAD, but Freddie, I'm here, I'm home, I love youuuu

i love skimming through the content warnings and catching the little surprise tools for later -> I love how the content warnings aren't even warnings for you, they're little surprise treats

"Fred calls himself Daddy and the reader is way into it" so am I actually (congrats Fred Weasley for making it to the very select list of men I'd call daddy) -> I was slightly hesitant to put Daddy kink in this fic, but I just couldn't get it out of my head and it felt so fitting for his character (and it's been so long since I have written a fic with Daddy kink and I wanted to so badly) so I am SO GLAD that he is one of the select men that you would call Daddy!!! (perhaps in a later fic, Ron will also make that list...?)

(i actually forgot this had smut in it KSKSKSK i was so focused on the ANGST and self made suffering) -> that is hilarious but also so understandable omg. I do this sometimes when I am writing an angst/smut fic lmao

"It seemed that just yesterday, you were a bright-eyed young girl" this entire first big paragraph goes so hard -> omg thank you!!! it's about the unbearable passage of time and also how quickly trauma and a dark world mentally ages a person

"and it left you the laughing stalk of the courtyard" the prank rivals to lovers story we've been hoping for <3 | "So - on with your revenge, it was" I love these two so much -> her immediately being like "it's time for a taste of his own medicine" is THE REASON HE FELL IN LOVE. Fred Weasley wants someone who will match his Prank Freak. she pranked him back and he immediately was picking out their future kids' names in his head

"the quiet robotic hum of ‘Jingle Bells’, occasionally overlapped by ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" this is such a funny prank idea -> FUN FACT - I got this idea from a Canadian kids TV show that used to come on YTV when I was younger called Prank Patrol. it was one of those shows where they set up elaborate pranks to goof people and filmed in in the reality tv style, but they also had a segment in the middle of the show where they showed you fun easy DIY pranks that you could do at home, and this was one of them (though I think that they recommended putting the singing greeter in someone's bedroom door hinge so that it sang whenever their bedroom door was open, and not in a book, but it functions the same way)

"You had a crippling fear of heights" which is a surprise tool :3 that'll help us out in a minute ("help" us out i guess) -> I will never understand people who only write Reader characters that they personally can relate to, because I absolutely do not have a fear of heights, and I find it so interesting to explore things like this through my writing. and it makes for good plot

"because watching Fred doing something he loved was a good distraction from just how high up you were" he'd also look Delicious playing -> edits of Quidditch Fred from POA - he was SO DELICIOUS !!!!

"planting his hand firmly on the railing at the other side of your waist" this gives me the same giddy feeling of someone holding me by the waist to get by behind me -> Fred Weasley is a PDA man and nobody can convince me otherwise, and he would find any excuse to slip PDA into his everyday life (he is the man who puts his hands on your waist to gently move you out of the way to walk by you and his hands are so big and warm that it's BUTTERFLIES every single time)

"Finally. I thought the two of you were never gonna get on with it" nothing could make me believe all the Weasleys weren't making bets on how long it'd take them -> I did not even think of this, but they FUCKING WERE. especially Charlie and Bill, who only met Y/N like twice, they immediately saw the chemistry between her and Fred and they were like "yeah, this is gonna be a thing" (George wasn't allowed in the betting pool because Fred tells him too much)

"I guess I was stupid enough to believe that I was part of that dream!” // "Would’ve been a waste of parchment writing to you, anyway" -> I always have so much fun writing angsty arguments omg

"Fred smirked, proud that after all this time, he could still draw a laugh out of you" the unbreakable curse of liking the "Funny Guy", he's Still funny even after a fight/breakup (it's almost humbling in a way) -> THIS IS SO TRUE. like imagine all the times that Fred came into the Apothecary and he was purposefully flirting with her and making dumb jokes, and she couldn't help but to laugh, and every single time she laughed, he held onto hope that they would get back together because he was like "that laugh is mine. she still loves me"

"In the back of his mind, he thought that Wood would be proud" oh 🥺 -> all those hours of being screamed at during Quidditch practice are gonna have his life !!!!!

"He likely would have died with that tight grip still around your wrist in those moments if someone had hit him with the killing curse" hey Sunny it's me knocking, let me in I just wanna talk 🔪 oh this ? don't worry about that | "Freddie, please, I don’t wanna die!” 🔪 Sunny I'm coming in -> reading this literally made me BURST OUT LAUGHING omg. cause I know if you showed up at my doorstep with a knife it would actually be to cut me a slice of cake <3 you'd never actually hurt me baby I know it !!! (also you think I PLAY AROUND when I write angst??? HUH)

"You wanted to sob, you wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream" YEAH !!! -> this is what happens when the Weasley twins get hurt !!!!

"He couldn’t possibly be talking about…? No. No, he wasn’t" im hitting both of you on the head with one of those rubber squicky hammers -> again HILARIOUS. and they both need it

"You had never seen Fred Weasley so sad before" im screaming and crying and ripping the wallpaper off the walls -> I feel like I have never seen a fic explore Fred's sadness? like yes, he's a joker, but he's capable of sadness. like the man have complex emotions. let him have some negative emotions!!! I really enjoyed exploring a more serious side of him with this

"I can’t lose you. You almost slipped out of my hands.” 🎵 waaaaaar is oooveeeeer 🎵 (kinda, maybe, yes ?) -> this was one of my favourite parts to write !!!! the rare emotionally distraught Fred Weasley, you tear me apart in the best ways!!!

"If one of us were to die tomorrow, I couldn’t live my last day knowing that I wasted it not being yours" I AM RIPPING MY OWN HEART OUT OUAT STYLE, MORE BLOODY MAYBE -> AGAIN I HAD WAY TOOOO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS HAHAHAHAHA

"You grabbed both sides of the sport jacket and used it to haul him down toward you" YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH !!!!!! I looove a good intense kiss scene 🙂‍↕️ -> me too? kiss scenes are sooooo underrated!!!! I am thinking "Your First Kiss With X" with the Harry Potter characters like I did for Titans??? I feel like they need it??? the world needs it!!!

"his bedroom had some silencing wards around" 😈 we'll put it to good use 😈 - PERCY HAD NO CLUE WHAT HE WAS GOING HAHAHAHA

"Did you miss it, darling?” He asked... with a cocky smile stretched across his soft lips" 😳😳😳😳😳 -> this such a last minute addition to the fic and I am so glad I did because Fred FUCKING WOULD

"Fred Weasley’s cock was a marvel that you couldn’t have forgotten if you had tried" are they identical in every way i wonde- *a gunshot sounds off* -> listen... this will be addressed in a different fic, but... they are. they are

"When I cum tonight, it’s gonna be deep inside your sweet cunt, yeah?” 🚨🚑🚨🚑🚨🚑🚨🚑 -> again this was so much fun to write mwahahaha

“Go on, good girl.” *holding the tmi jar very close to my chest* stop spilling all my secrets -> okay but.... this was also intensely self indulgent

"perfect heat of your cunt began sucking him in for the first time in over a year" and you KNOW they have not gotten with ANYONE in that time (only the company of their own hand for a whole year) -> YES EXACTLY!!!

"Unfortunately I don’t have any panties for you, so…” oh noooo what a nightmare (he's a fucking liar btw, the panties are under his matress) -> how did I not even CONSIDER THIS??? OMG!!! HE ABSOLUTELY HAS KEPT SOME OF HER PANTIES OMG

"Fred quietly let out a ‘yes’ in celebration" *punching the wall* he's such a dork -> in the BEST FUCKING WAAAAY

"soft planes of his muscles that had come from hard work rather than a distinct workout routine and the beautiful bit of fat on his lower belly" i am foaming at the mouth -> a muscled man who has super tight abs = sad, dehydrated. a muscled man who has a fat tummy = WHAT A MAN WHAT A MAN WHAT A MIGHTY GOOD MAAAAN YES HE IIIIISSSS

"his core was a Dragon Heart’s String, and that heart beat for you just as fondly as his own did" INSAAAAAAAANEEEEE -> this was inspired by the fact that I literally JUST read the chapter in Philosopher's Stone where Harry gets his wand and I was like THE LORE. THE LORE lmao

"but just as Fred’s lips brushed yours, George let out a loud, fake gagging sound" siblinghood is so real -> George is so fucking obnoxious and we love it so much

I am so glad that you liked the fic!!!!

The Way You Miss Me

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

I’m not trying to say I don’t wanna stay, I just know how this story ends.

Use my body against me - and all of our history.

I hate the way you miss me.

Summary:

Fred broke up with you. He made it clear that he was going to have a new life when he opened his shop, and he didn't need you to be a part of it. You being stuck on him was just another joke in a long line of pranks that he pulled.

And life kept on laughing at you when your fear of crippling heights was triggered by a potentially life ending mission the Order put together that had you dangling hundreds of feet over London, held up only by Fred's strength and determination.

So what does it mean when the two of you land, and he's the only thing that can stop your shaking panic? What does it mean when he's looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes, holding you tight like a lover would?

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Smut. Set during Deathly Hallows.

Word Count: 18,500

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full warnings list and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is equal parts angst fic and smut fic; the reader is a cis woman - uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; there is no mention of the reader's looks, race, hair colour, etc. in any way; this fic does use Y/N (and L/N as in Last Name); this takes place mostly during the beginning of Deathly Hallows, so there are mentions of dark topics, like death, and the cult-like following that Voldemort has developed; this is Exes to Lovers - Fred and the reader dated for a while during their time at Hogwarts and then broke up; (there is flashbacks in this fic to times during Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix); the reader is half-blood - she has one parent who is a muggle and lives in a muggle city and the other parent who is loyal to death eaters (and there is a later mention of the reader's mother being killed due to anti-muggle sentiment as Voldemort becomes more powerful); there is no mention of what Hogwarts house the reader is in; the reader has a crippling fear of heights (which is a large part of the plot for this fic); mentions of nausea and vomiting (as a fear response) (no one actually throws up during the course of the fic); the reader experiences actual life-threatening danger while on a broom - she nearly falls to her death, but Fred catches her; Fred does struggle to hold the reader's body weight, so it doesn't imply that he has super-human strength or that the reader is particularly petite (I wanted his reaction to be realistic for someone of any body weight); for part of the fic, Fred is disguised as Harry using Polyjuice Potion (but there's no confusion about his identity because the reader knows he took the potion); the reader experiences a panic attack due to the life threatening fall, and Fred helps her calm down; mentions of blood and semi-graphic descriptions of George's canon injury (his ear being blasted off); there is general emotional angst from the characters being in close proximity to danger, death, and life threatening situations; Fred calls the reader 'darling' and 'love' and 'sweets' and 'pretty girl' (in sexual and non-sexual contexts).

For the actual smut section: this is not their first time together as a couple and neither of the characters are meant to be virgins; there is undertones of sub/dom dynamics - Fred is a teasing soft dom and the reader is submissive to him (and there is mentions of the reader experiencing what could be considered subspace) (but there isn't any specifically laid out roles - it's more so one person enjoying taking care of the other, especially after experiencing the emotional turmoil of a near death experience together); there is Daddy kink in this (not until a bit later into the smut section, but it just came to me and I realized it suited Fred so well) Fred calls himself Daddy and the reader is way into it; praise kink - Fred calls the reader 'good girl' specifically because he knows she likes it; lots of dirty talk (Fred has a filthy mouth); oral sex - Fred receiving (she blows him as a thank you for saving her life) (also slight ball worship); mentions of the reader 'choking' on his cock (but there is no major breathplay or breath restriction); slight spit kink (it's a messy blowjob and he loves it); teasing and brief orgasm denial (toward both parties); hair pulling (toward both parties) - not with the intention of causing pain, but to direction someone's attention and to show appreciation and affection to the person; thigh riding - she humps herself on Fred's thigh while she is still wearing clothes; penis in vagina sex; creampie kink (I'm not gonna say breeding kink, because there's no mention of procreation or getting someone pregnant, even in theory, but they are both very turned on by the idea of him cumming inside of her); this could be protected sex OR unprotected sex - he cums inside of her raw but we can all pretend that they used a magical pregnancy prevention method if you want even though it's not mentioned in the fic; cockwarming (reader doesn't let Fred pull out for a while after he cums); I think that is finally it for this fic.

A/N: This fic is titled after a song by All Time Low, which I highly recommend listening to paired with this fic. This is actually part of an idea I had for a much longer multi-chaptered Fred x Reader fic, but I kept thinking about this one moment in the fic and how much I wanted to write it - so I did. And I decided that it would make a good oneshot. And I am actually insanely proud of myself for managing to capture the same emotions in under 20k that I originally thought would take me like 50k or 100k to properly communicate. I think this is fantastic, and it's one of the best things I have written in a while - and I really hope you guys enjoy it! Especially if you like angsty, emotional, exes to lovers fics.

...

Very often, you wondered when life had become so complicated.

It seemed that just yesterday, you were a bright-eyed young girl, dancing around a beautifully magical winter ball with the love of your life on your arm - and now, you were a confused woman who was terrified of how your life would end up because of a dark wizard and his cultist followers trying to overtake your world.

These days you didn’t even have that lover to comfort you through all of the confusion and dread that clouded the world around you.

You and Fred used to be perfect. That’s what a lot of people would have called the two of you - the ‘perfect’ couple.

Your story was something straight from a romance novel - the two of you were best friends when you were young, and that friendship quickly blossomed into affection. That affection naturally led into a sweet romance. When you were with him, your life was full of moments where you felt like a beautiful, flowery, desirable protagonist because of how he treated you. Your life used to be full of laughter, full of smiles, full of romantic gestures.

You and Fred were in the same year at Hogwarts, so naturally you knew each other. You weren’t really friends - at least not at first. You knew of each other, especially because you had some classes together.

But you didn’t truly meet Fred Weasley until more than halfway into your first year of classes together. You had the misfortune of accidentally running into a prank that was meant for a Slytherin Prefect - someone who had taken one too many house points off Gryffindor for the twins’ liking. And after being doused with red and gold paint and tripping over a toy rubber snake that had been charmed to hiss realistically when you got near it - you were reasonably frightened and crying, and it left you the laughing stalk of the courtyard - someone to be pointed at and mocked by everyone.

Fred hadn’t meant for it to be you. With the way he looked at you after the incident - full of guilt while everyone else pointed at you and laughed, imitating your frightening screams and attempts to jump away from the fake snake - it didn’t take you long to figure out the culprits behind it. And it didn’t take you much longer after that to plan your revenge. (Especially because, as much as Fred looked guilty, he didn’t simply come forward and apologise. Too afraid to look like a weak moron in the eyes of his brother and his other Gryffindor friends. So - on with your revenge, it was.)

You figured that all good pranksters should be due to be a victim sometimes, too. If the twins couldn’t laugh when they were on the receiving end, then they should stop playing pranks.

So you came up with something that you considered masterful. During your trip home for Christmas, back to Muggle London where your mother lived, you asked her to take you to a shop to buy a couple of greeting cards for your classmates. The ones that sing Christmas carols loudly when the hinge of the card is opened. Something clever, and not needing any magic at all.

And when you returned to Hogwarts after the break, you found a moment where the twins were distracted, and you stole their book bags in order to pull off your epic, amazing prank. You taped those singing greeters into the back of their Potions textbooks - a class that you shared with them, of course, so that you could enjoy the show. And then you waited.

You had trouble containing your laughter when Professor Snape escalated from annoyed to downright scalding angry as his class was filled with the quiet robotic hum of ‘Jingle Bells’, occasionally overlapped by ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town’. It was made even better by the fact that both of the twins clearly knew that the music was coming from somewhere in their surrounding area, but they had no clue what the exact source was or how to stop it. And with every snivelled demand of ‘just open your books and get to work’ - the music only started up again.

By the time they had been sentenced to detention for disturbing the class, you were nearly breathless and your ribs were aching from trying to hold back your laughter. Which, of course, meant that Fred easily spotted you out of everyone else - who looked equally confused or annoyed with the low hum of the music. And as soon as the class ended, he brought his textbook to you, thanked you for the worthy prank, and asked you how to stop it. He looked entirely amused and impressed when you pulled the tiny device out of the back, and proceeded to ask you a million questions about it.

You weren’t surprised when the next week, the annoying singing greeter ended up inside the teacher’s copy of the textbook on McGonagall’s desk.

From that moment on, his crush on you steeped inside of him like a fine tea, developing from an innocent adolescent attraction to full-blown, ‘drive you crazy’, ‘I would do anything for you’, love. It was lucky for him that you easily felt the same way.

Through the years of being by his side, becoming his best friend, pulling pranks together and trying desperately to get him to study - it was difficult not to fall for Fred Weasley.

You had been overjoyed when Fred invited you to the Quidditch World Cup. Even though you weren’t the biggest fan of Quidditch (and Fred knew that). The only reason you had started attending the games at Hogwarts was because he joined the team. And you only bothered to attend the games he played in, so your bias could be spotted from a mile away. But in his letter, with the ticket to the World Cup slotted into the envelope, he told you that it was ‘the game of the century’ and you ‘simply couldn’t miss it’.

You wouldn’t miss out on spending time with him, so you eagerly agreed to go.

This left you with only one glaring problem.

You had a crippling fear of heights.

It was one of the reasons that you never really gotten into Quidditch in the first place. You had absolutely no interest in playing, and even less interest in watching if Fred wasn’t involved. The idea of even flying on a broom being something that made you nauseated and shaky just from thinking about it.

The mandatory first year flying lesson was the only class at Hogwarts that you ever failed, but Madame Hooch took pity on you when she saw you crying and fisting the grass after only getting your broom about five inches off the ground. So she passed you anyway - just barely.

When you set out to watch Fred’s games at Hogwarts, you usually had to take some kind of anti-nausea tonic beforehand to make sure that you didn’t puke all over everyone else in the stands. And you usually couldn’t even make it up to your seat to watch unless one of your good friends held your hand. But you were alright once the actual game started, because watching Fred doing something he loved was a good distraction from just how high up you were.

Telling Fred about your intense fear had been one of the most honest, vulnerable moments that you ever had with him. Your friendship was usually all pranks and laughter, which you loved.

But one summer day, when you were hanging out with the Weasleys, they wouldn’t stop nagging you to join one of their family Quidditch matches because they needed an extra player to make the teams even. And after the twins’ endless teasing, saying that you were ‘afraid to lose’ or that you would be ‘too distracted by their daring good looks’ in order to play properly, you broke down crying and stormed off into the woods, because you were too anxious to admit the real reason that you couldn’t play.

Fred was the one who found you off in the trees behind the Burrow, tears still streaming down your face, and asked you what he had done to so greatly upset you. He had been terrified at the idea of making you upset, so hurt that he had been the one to make you cry. And after he found out about your fear, he didn’t laugh or mock you for it or play it off as something stupid like you thought would be so typical of him. No - instead, he wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders and he told you that he was genuinely sorry. And he promised that he would never invite you to play Quidditch again.

When you had accepted the invitation to The World Cup, you had forgotten how much your fear of heights played into watching Quidditch as well. The giant, impossibly tall temporary Quidditch stadium that had been set up for the event had been looming over you all day, but you didn’t want to quit and go home because of some silly little fear.

You wanted to spend the time with your friends. You wanted to enjoy the event because the people you loved most were having fun there. So you pressed on, ignoring the inevitable, letting yourself get caught up in the pregame revelry. You walked around the seemingly endless campgrounds with Fred and George, in awe of all the decorations and the different wizards from all over the world, showing off things from their homes. You chatted and charmed along with them as they collected bets before the game. You let Fred paint your face with large, ugly shamrocks because even though you didn’t entirely care about the teams or fully know them, you were rooting for Ireland to win simply because he was.

But the unavoidable nature of your problem became very apparent as Arthur guided everyone to your seats, and you climbed up more stairs, and more stairs, and more stairs - and the higher up you got, the more you found yourself shaking, especially when you looked down to the ground and saw that the people down there looked like little more than bugs. You hated it when your mind, naturally, went to what would happen to you if you stumbled over the railing and fell down all that way. You would splat on the ground, squashed like a bug. You would die within seconds.

You held on tighter to Fred’s hand - he would have said that he had grabbed your hand in the first place so that he wouldn’t lose you among the bustling crowd, and not simply as an excuse to be closer to you. You didn’t even realise how badly you were trembling in his touch as you looked over the railing (still a few flights down from your final seats) with intense apprehension.

“You alright?” Fred asked you simply.

“‘m fine.” You mumbled out the lie, giving him a large, forced smile - hoping that he would believe it.

You knew that if you told him how you were feeling, he would insist on escorting you back to the tent. Perhaps he would even insist on staying with you so that you wouldn’t have to be alone. So he might miss out on a once in a lifetime Quidditch game all because you had a bit of petty anxiety from being so high up.

So you tried your best to push down all your feelings and ignore them, even if it was making you shake and making your stomach churn. When you got to the top, peering over the edge of the railing of the very, very high up seats that Arthur had gotten as a thanks for his work on helping to organise the whole thing (apparently, the higher up the better to actually see the game), you felt an incredible sense of dizziness, and began swaying on your feet.

This was so much higher up than the Quidditch stands at Hogwarts.

Naturally, Fred noticed. It wasn’t something he would easily admit, or even something he did consciously, but he always kept an eye on you. Partially due to a knack for admiring your beauty, that adolescent love-struck feeling always making him more prone to staring at you. But it was also partially due to the fact that he felt a need to watch over you. Whether it be as a friend or as something else, he always wanted you to be safe, and happy.

And right now, your sickly, terrified face stood out like a sore thumb among the crowd of excited, cheering fans.

“Y/N,”

He called out your name in a serious tone that was so uncharacteristic of Fred, something that snapped your attention from staring anxiously at the ground toward him immediately. He cemented your attention on him when he put a hand on top of your tight, tense knuckles on the railing. His touch was warm, as always, and oddly grounding, removing even just a slight bit of that dizzying anxiety that you were feeling.

“Do you wanna go back down? I can bring you back to the tent,”

Of course. Just as you had predicted.

“No.” You easily answered, shaking your head furiously, biting your lip. “I-”

You didn’t want him missing out on such an important event because of you, but more importantly:

“I - I don’t want to be afraid.” You heaved out, your chest tight with anxiety. “It’s stupid - people do stuff like this all the time, right? I shouldn’t be afraid-”

“It’s not stupid.” He said firmly, quickly squashing down any self-belittling that you might be tempted to do. “You can’t control how you feel.”

Coming from him, it sounded like the most firm truth ever.

“If you want to stay, I’ll be right here with you.” Fred added on, giving you a warm, reassuring grin. “But just let me know if you want to go back down, and I’ll walk with you, alright?”

You nodded, hating that even though his words gave you that nip of courage you needed, you were still pulsing with a dull panic. The undeniable reaction that fear caused in your body.

Fred hated seeing you shaking, hated the deep frown that cut through your beautiful features - so what he did next was instinctive. He took his hand off yours and reached that arm, the one closest to you, around your back, planting his hand firmly on the railing at the other side of your waist. This trapped you in a close-knit hold beside him, something that made you feel instantly more secure - even if it was just from the warmth of him at your side.

“I’m not gonna let you fall, yeah?” He said quietly, leaning closer into your ear to be heard - the warmth of the reassurance causing gentle tingles down your spine. “I would never let anything happen to you, darling.”

Between the intense loving safety that he words wrapped you in with the sweet nickname he added on, and the firm cradle of his arm around your back, you knew that you would have no problem sticking it out for the game. But your brain was still trying to cope, your anxiety so incredibly nagging, and you couldn’t help it when your eyes drifted back to focus on the ant-like people on the ground, becoming shaking and nauseous all too soon from staring downward.

“Down look down.” Fred scolded you gently, using his other hand to grab your chin, forcing your gaze back up - it ended with your eyes locked with his, admiring the way the breeze blew his too-long ginger hair into his eyes. “Just look at me, alright? It’s gonna be far worse if you keep starin’ down there. Just look at me, love.”

“Just look at you.” You repeated in a quiet mumble, already so utterly locked in the powerful orbit of his gaze, feeling like it was near impossible to look away from him.

You felt his forehead brush against yours before you realised just how close he had gotten. But you couldn’t bring yourself to mind.

And ultimately, feeling the stands shaking beneath your feet as a particularly hard gust of wind came through and having another swell of anxiety rush through you was what drove you to closing the gap, sealing your lips on his in your first kiss. Fred made you brave, almost stupidly so, and you hoped that you had finally used that bravery for something good in capturing his lips. (Rather than the stupid mischief that the two of you usually got up to.)

Fred smiled into the kiss and George cheered loudly behind him - you thought it was due to the game starting, and when you pulled back sharply to look around for the players, you were met with nearly all eyes in the group on you, clearly gawking at the fact that you and Fred had kissed.

This included Ginny smirking almost evilly before she said:

“Finally. I thought the two of you were never gonna get on with it.”

This left you squirming with a mild embarrassment, and definitely not thinking about how high up you were anymore.

Looking back, the memory was painful - not sweet or fond as it had once been to you.

But it wasn’t nearly as painful as the memory of the day you and Fred had broken up.

He had asked you to be his girlfriend officially only a few days after the World Cup. He wanted you to know what that kiss meant to him, and he wanted the privilege of more kisses from you, on top of the ‘honour’ (his exact wording) of going back to Hogwarts with you on his arm as his girlfriend, making all the other boys in your year ‘pathetically jealous’. Of course, it was everything you wanted, he was everything you wanted, so you said yes.

The two of you dated for nearly two full happy years - right through your sixth year and into your seventh, until in April of your seventh year, shortly after Fred’s birthday, when everything came crashing down around you.

It wasn’t unusual of Fred to pull you away after a class - his hand in yours, igniting fluttery giggles from your lungs as he pulled you down the corridors to whatever secret little spot he had picked out. Even with Umbridge at Hogwarts, implementing more rules and cracking down on ‘fraternisation’ between students, you and Fred still found ways to sneak off to have your private little moments together.

So when Fred took you off to one of those private corners on chilly spring afternoon, you assumed that this was no different. You fell into the natural rhythm of pinning him against a wall, sealing your lips firmly to his in a kiss and waiting for his hand to sneak up your skirt while his tongue ventured into your mouth. You were shocked when this time, he didn’t kiss you back. He was limp and unreceptive against you, and that was when you realised that you had read the tone of the interaction very wrong - even if him dragging you away by the hand always led to making out in a quiet corner, and more than a bit of groping.

You pulled back, looking at him with confusion and disappointment plainly across your face.

“What’s wrong, Freddie?” You asked, well in the habit of using the nickname for him.

Fred’s expression was filled with sullen dread, and it made your stomach twist. It truly made you fearful of whatever he was going to say next, and you took a step back from him, widening the gap between the two of you in the dusty, draughty old stairwell. You suddenly felt too cold, even with your uniform sweater and thick robes on, and wrapped your arms around yourself to compensate.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” He announced quietly, continuing to lean on the wall that you had pressed him up against, staring at the floor, his eyes unwilling to meet you.

What? Had he cheated on you? Did he want to break up?

What terrible thing could possibly make this bright, funny joker so damn sad and serious?

“What is it?” You asked, filling with dread, your throat tightening up more by the second.

“George and I have decided that it’s about time we take our leave.” Fred announced, his eyes only flickering to you for a moment, looking for some kind of reaction. You were only further confused, and waited for him to explain. “The lease for the shop in Diagon Alley finally came through, and-”

“Well that’s great news, Fred.” You said, trying to sound happy and upbeat beyond the tension that was still tight in your chest. You had no clue why he was so downtrodden - the joke shop was his dream, and now that they had secured a location for it, that dream was coming true.

He heaved a sigh, his eyes turning to gaze out a nearby window for a moment before he turned back to you.

“It means we have to leave, darling.” He said sharply.

Your insides became heavy.

You knew it was a very Fred and George thing - so intent on not doing their exams, desperate to escape any further academics. You wanted to ask why they wouldn’t stay until the end of the school year, but you knew that you would get answers about how they didn’t need marks from exams that they were likely going to fail anyway to run a shop that they now owned.

It was something founded on their own talents and ideas, and they didn’t need the approval of professors marking them wrong or right in order to do it.

It was the life they had always dreamed of. And you were intensely proud of them for it.

So why did you still have that overwhelming feeling of dread?

“So - when are we leaving?” You asked, trying to sound confident and firm in your words even though you knew what was likely coming next.

You felt intensely disappointed when the all too predictable outcome smashed you in the face.

“You’re not coming with us.” Fred said quietly.

“Why not?” You argued gently.

You would drop everything and go with them - you felt far more emotional attachment to being with Fred than you did to finishing your year at Hogwarts. You knew that you could be a useful hand around the shop. Any venture helping Fred would be a worthy one to you. But staring you down were the calculating eyes of someone who had been telling you over the past years how much he didn’t want to disrupt your studies with his antics, because he thought you had a ‘brilliant mind’, and you were ‘so much smarter’ than him and George.

He thought that you could actually pull some decent - no, brilliant grades on your NEWTs and truly make something of yourself. The shop was a big dream of his and George’s, but Fred knew that you were destined for something so much greater that truly challenged and fully utilised your brilliance. So he wasn’t going to let you be dragged down to mediocrity by him.

Realising this, part of you still ached. Why was he so intent on leaving if it meant leaving you behind?

“Please don’t be stupid-” Fred sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, so I’m stupid now?” You scoffed.

He hadn’t meant to let the harsh word leave his lips - at least, he hadn’t meant it in such a harsh way.

“Y/N-” Fred used your actual name, something he rarely did, but you barreled right over whatever he was going to say with your next words.

You were hurting now, and you didn’t entirely care what he had to say.

“If I’m so stupid, then why should I even bother to stay here and take my NEWTs?” You hissed, twisting around his accidental slip into something he had never meant. “Or am I too stupid to even work at a silly little joke shop with you?”

Fred scowled deeply. It didn’t suit him.

“Y/N, this ‘silly little joke shop’ has been my dream since I was five years old!” He barked, now taking your heat of the moment words and running away with them. “You don’t-”

“I guess I was stupid enough to believe that I was part of that dream!” You cried out in return, cutting off his words once again.

‘You are.’ He choked down the words. ‘But I can’t bear to bring you down just because I want to be with you. I could never be so selfish.’

“I-” He choked on whatever he was going to say, swallowing it down. “I can’t do this right now.”

He moved to storm off completely, hoping to speak with you later when you both had calmed down, hoping to have a proper, happy goodbye with you before he and George actually left.

But your next words made him freeze on the spot, and wiped away all of those hopes within him.

“Fred Weasley, if you walk away, we’re done.” You said, now choking on tears.

You were utterly insulted that he wouldn’t even fight for you - that he wouldn’t even promise that his heart would be waiting for you after you graduated. To you, it was a sure sign that he was saying that his shop was more important to him than you were. That you were just some stupid schoolgirl fling to him; that along with the shop, he wanted to move on to other women, to find someone that he actually wanted to marry.

You had never been a part of the dream he had for his life - you had just been a passing fancy in his eye.

For Fred, it was all too painful. This was the conversation he had been utterly dreading since he and George had decided to take their leave, and it was going far worse than he had planned in his head. He couldn’t face the pain - he couldn’t face hurting you. He couldn’t face missing you, even during a few short months apart before you did graduate.

So he then did something so terribly stupid, looking to bomb the relationship wide open - hoping to end all of the pain before it even started.

“Good.” He said, barely turning his head to even look over his shoulder at you. “Would’ve been a waste of parchment writing to you, anyway.”

With those final, painful words, he stomped off down the stairs, leaving you to collapse against one of the nearby walls in a puddle of tears - for the first time in a long time, without Fred to muffle your sobs in a comforting hug.

You hadn’t been there to watch him and George ride off on their brooms when they finally gave Umbridge everything she deserved - you had been locked in your dorm, sobbing into your pillow because of that horrible, relationship ending fight. You had only heard from other people later that they had left Hogwarts in a blaze of glory, and you were the only person who knew for certain where they had gone and what their plans were now.

You hated to admit it - but you missed Fred Weasley.

You tried your hardest to get over him. You threw yourself into your studies, and you did pass your NEWTs with some of the highest marks in your class. But then, any thought of what potential career you might take on was tossed aside when the world went into upheaval at the hands of Death Eaters. And unintentionally, you were right back at Fred’s side again.

It was a dreadful thing - being forced to see your ex on such a frequent basis.

The last time being just a few short days ago when he had come into the Apothecary that you worked at in Diagon Alley, looking for some ingredients for a new WWW product that he wanted to make a test batch of. You had still spent last Christmas with his family, at the nagging insistence of Molly. After your mother had turned up dead and your father was missing, and you had to face the fact that he had likely defected to the Death Eaters out of fear (and the stupidity of his ingrained ‘old ways’), you didn’t really have any other family to turn to, aside from the Weasleys.

You saw Fred a lot more often than you should - more often than you wanted to, in fact. Because the more often you had to see him walk into your shop with a grin on his face and bear the small talk he would force you into before he finally put in his order, the more you ached. You wanted nothing more than to be able to get away - to go someplace far away that Fred would never find you, so that you could finally heal, could finally get over the way he had broken your heart.

But the country, and likely the state of all Wizardkind, was in upheaval. So many lives were at risk, and you had your part to play. You had signed on to become a member of the Order the minute you turned seventeen, and you weren’t prepared to shirk that commitment now, just because of a bit of girlish heartbreak.

It was the reason that you were standing in the now empty residence of Number Four, Privet Drive. You had been called upon last minute to replace Tonks on this particular mission, for reasons that everyone seemed tight lipped about. But you weren’t going to question it - you were just going to step up and do your duty so that Harry could be transported safely, and hopefully go on to defeat the Dark Lord once and for all.

According to Mad-Eye Moody, it was all very straight forward. Six of the fourteen members of the group would take Polyjuice Potion to turn themselves into decoy versions of Harry, making for seven Harrys in total, and the other half of the group would pair off with a Harry each to be their escort.

You weren’t a huge fan of the idea of Fred disguising himself as Harry, essentially putting a huge target on his back - but the plan had already been set in place. He had already agreed to it. There was no room for you to protest now.

“We’re not a big fan of the idea either, mate.” George spoke up when Harry protested against the idea of people risking their lives by being disguised as him.

“Yeah, imagine something went wrong, then we’d be stuck as a scrawny, specky git forever.” Fred added on with his usual humorous tone.

You held back a laugh at this comment, and everyone in the room eyed you harshly as you choked on your own breath. Fred smirked, proud that after all this time, he could still draw a laugh out of you.

Your sense of humour about the whole situation was soon stamped out when Mad-Eye mentioned brooms. The group would have to be flying because Harry couldn’t apparate or use any other common form of transport without the Ministry knowing.

“Brooms?” You questioned, knowing that your tone sounded far too panicked. “We - we’re flying?”

“Yes.” Mad-Eye snipped curtly in return. “What exactly about my explanation was unclear, Ms. L/N?”

His sharp tone and his glare in your direction, along with his use of your surname, instantly transported you back you Defense Against the Darks Arts classes in your sixth year, when you had been intimidated by the man - even if, strangely enough, you hadn’t been taught by the same man who now stood before you.

You swallowed tightly, a large lump forming in your throat already - an involuntary, wicked reaction overtaking your body because of your fear of heights. Fred looked at you with sad knowing in his eyes, and you didn’t notice when he clenched his fists tightly at his sides, resisting the urge to swaddle you in a comforting hold.

“Nothing was unclear, just-” You stuttered, breathing in deeply, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t have much experience with flying, and-”

“Weasley - er - Fred, has already informed me of that.” Mad-Eye said, correcting himself when he realised just how many ‘Weasleys’ were on this mission and how utterly confusing that would get. “He’s insisted on taking you due to your lack of experience. Is that all?”

Obviously, you didn’t want to publicly admit to your fear. You couldn’t reveal it as the terrible weakness that it was, especially not when there were so many other worries at play.

“Yes, it’s fine.” You said, nodding, trying to keep the conversation short and keep the attention off you.

“Good. Now if we’re all done dawdling, we need to get to work.”

It was downright strange seeing Fred transformed into Harry.

Even complete with the dorky clothes and the glasses, you still easily spotted him out of the crowd of ‘specky gits’. Maybe it was the years of practice that you had telling him apart from George that made it so easy for you, but he was still so irritably Fred. The fact that he slid his wand into his back pocket - something you had warned him dozens of times would likely result in the wand crunching in half and breaking when he sat down (and annoyed you to the point of you snatching it out of his back pocket to save it, especially before he sat down). The way he reached up to scratch his nose, the smirk on his face when he kept glancing over at the other Harry you were sure had to be George. Especially with the way they were steadily side-eyeing each other, speaking volumes with their looks and having a silent conversation that nobody else knew of.

The fact that his eyes kept flickering to you every few moments definitely helped you to pick him out of the crowd. Even though you were used to a gentle hazel gazing at you rather than that piercing blue, there was still a unique concern behind his eyes when he looked at you from beyond those spectacles - the same kind of gentle seriousness that you hadn’t really seen from him since he had held your shaking hand on the stairs of the stands on the day of The World Cup.

Stupidly, it only really occurred to you how close you would have to be with Fred, tightly riding behind him on the back of his broom, when you went outside and he ushered you to climb onto the back of his broom behind him. It had been a little over a year since you had broken up with Fred, and since then, you had not touched him.

Every greeting had been friendly, but from a distance. Even when he came into the Apothecary and laid his hand on the counter, you snaked out of the way in time to avoid his fingers so much as brushing by yours. You always laid his order on the counter for him to pick it up himself, so that his fingers wouldn’t accidentally brush against yours. You made sure never to have contact with him. And now, you were being forced to climb onto the back of his broom, to hold him tight.

But you couldn’t protest. You couldn’t demand to switch partners now because of some petty angst you were harbouring about a break-up that had happened so long ago. (Would you call it angst, or stupid, longing, painful heartbreak?) You couldn’t complain - not when this was about transporting Harry safely. This was about something so much bigger.

Sure, it wouldn’t be exactly the same as holding onto your Fred (not that he was yours anymore - you had to remember that). He was Harry-Fred right now, so he was much shorter and thinner, and you could easily pretend that he wasn’t Fred at all. Which is what you forced yourself to think about as you swung a shaking leg over the broom and climbed on, wrapping your arms around his waist, preparing for take-off.

It was a bit harder to pretend that this wasn’t Fred when you caught the faintest whiff of his expensive cologne (something he had only started wearing once the shop took off, something you noticed on him for the first time when he came to visit you at the Apothecary). It was definitely still lingering on his skin, something that was so painfully Fred even while you stared at the back of Harry’s wild black hair.

It pierced your heart a little bit more when he peered over his shoulder at you, striking you as so Fred with those somehow warm, caring blue eyes and gently asking:

“Good?”

To which you replied:

“m fine.”

The most terrible lie you had ever conjured - something that was soon covered up by Mad-Eye shouting some last minute instructions and waving everyone off.

When Fred kicked off the ground, you were immediately met with the most sickening wave of nausea that you had ever experienced in your life. You got way too high up for your liking within seconds, the houses on the ground growing far too small in your view, and you couldn’t fight the urge to shut your eyes.

Unfortunately, it only made you dizzier, but it calmed your nerves a slight bit. You didn’t even realise how tightly you were clutching onto Fred, an utter death grip around his waist, until you heard him let out a grunt of pain from his stomach muscles being strangled by your arms with your fingers digging into him like claws, holding on for dear life.

“S-sorry.” You stuttered out, shivering from the pure fear of it all, rather than the cool breeze that was whipping at your face. “Sorry, sorry!”

“I’m sorry!” Fred replied - it was still strange hearing him speak in Harry’s voice, and you were glad that it was temporary. “I should have told them you weren’t up to this mission, I-”

“I’m fine!” You barked back, hating the idea that your fear would make you unfit for a mission. But in a sense, you knew it was true. You would have spit in the face of any Death Eater, but your fear of heights was so utterly crippling. “Fred, don’t you dare for a moment suggest-”

“We’ve been breached!” You heard someone - Arthur’s voice, shouting from up ahead.

Your eyes whipped open and suddenly, you were filled with an entirely different kind of fear. Smoky black clouds of Death Eaters whipped through the sky around you - somehow, they had discovered the plan. And now, they were targeting all of the fake Harrys, firing off curses in every direction, looking for the real one.

They were targeting Fred.

That was the only thing at the forefront of your mind - they were going to hurt Fred.

“Y/N-?”

“Just get us out of here!” You told him. “I’ll cover you!”

You knew that you couldn’t close your eyes now. Of course you would step up to protect him. No matter if the two of you were lovers, friends, or something estranged - you still loved him in your heart, and you would protect him no matter what.

You grabbed your wand out of your jacket and gripped it stiffly, firing a stunning curse at the first silver mask you saw, still tightly gripping onto Fred’s jacket with your other hand. He used both his hands on the broom, gripping tighter with his legs to steer better, years of Quidditch honed skill coming in handy. His ability to be calm and fly mindfully while Bludgers were flying at his head made him a lot calmer with multiple Death Eaters firing potentially deadly curses all around him. In the back of his mind, he thought that Wood would be proud.

You were still shaking horribly, and a few of your spells didn’t land on the first try, but you kept trying. You centred yourself, remembering what you were doing, who you were here for. In your mind, it wasn’t about Harry, it was never about Harry - it was about Fred. It was because Fred had approached you about the last minute replacement, it was because Fred was the one on the broom in front of you, the one you would have died to protect.

You didn’t see when someone Apparated in a thick cloud of black smoke behind you, and raised their wand in your direction, hitting you squarely in the back with a heavy jinx. It was the force of a brick wall smacking you, something that sent you and Fred tumbling end over end through the sky and sent you flying cleanly off the broom because you didn’t have the instinct to grip the wood with your thighs like he did.

You let out a shrill scream as you felt yourself falling, your worst fear coming to life.

Thankfully, Fred was quicker than gravity - quicker than death.

He laser focused on you, and suddenly, everyone else was gone. All the supposed danger, all the Death Eaters - even other members of the Order who might have needed his help - they all vanished in his eyes.

It was only you.

He turned the broom into a deadly nose dive, racing down toward you, reaching with his hand out, and in seconds, while you were still hundreds of feet off the ground - he snatched you. He had your wrist gripped so tightly in his hand - slightly sweaty, already slipping. But he wouldn’t have let go of you if Lord Voldemort himself commanded it.

He likely would have died with that tight grip still around your wrist in those moments if someone had hit him with the killing curse.

He slowed the broom down, turning up out of the dive, intent to get you away from the fight, driving forward. Scarily, his arm muscles were already shaking from holding up all of your body weight.

You stared up at him with tears of pure terror dancing in your eyes, and though he was wearing the mask of The Chosen One - in those moments, the terrified, caring, loving eyes of your Fred were staring right back at you.

As much as you trusted him, you felt yourself slipping out of his grip, and more fear swelled inside of you.

“Freddie, help me!” You screamed, shaking, flailing under his grip, trying to reach your other arm up to help as he struggled to hold onto you. “Freddie, please, I don’t wanna die!”

“I’m not gonna let you die!” He replied, desperation gripping his throat. “Just - look at me. Don’t look down.”

Of course, you were distinctly reminded of that day at The World Cup. And somehow, you felt the same sense of safety with him now that you did then - even if you didn’t have the railing or even the gravity of something under your feet.

His muscles shook harder, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold onto you for much longer.

He had to pull you up.

“I’ve got you.” Fred huffed, straining with the effort. “I’ve got you-”

He tried pulling you up, but his muscles shook harder in protest, and he let out a harsh, murderous scream of frustration. And then he did the only thing that he could think to do. He gripped onto you tighter, and he used his legs and his other hand to do a sickeningly sharp barrel roll, twisting the broom completely around by leaning with his right shoulder. He flipped the entire broom with the hopes that you would get the chance to be flipped back onto it safely.

Luckily, even though you let out another terrified scream, you got the hint and hooked your leg around the wood mid-air, holstering your shaking body back behind him. You gripped onto Fred even tighter then, and one glance around told you that luckily, or unluckily, the fight had cleared off from around the two of you.

Perhaps they had heard you call this imposter Harry by the name ‘Fred’, perhaps you had given the real Harry away and ruined the whole plan. As you squeezed your eyes shut again and shoved your now tearful face into Fred’s back, selfishly, you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care.

The rest of the trip went on too long for your liking - you were still crawling with anxiety and eager to have your feet back on the ground.

Toward the end of it, you felt Harry-Fred’s body shift back into the tall, more muscular form that you were familiar with (somehow a bit more muscular than you remembered, but you tried not to get caught up on that detail). You were more than relieved when you felt your feet brushing against the ground with the landing. Distantly, you heard the familiar, comfortingly worried baulking of Molly’s voice, and you opened your eyes to see that Fred’s head was much higher up than it had been before, and his hair was thankfully returned back to its bright red state.

Molly rushed over to Fred, and there was some conversation, but you couldn’t make it out - blood was thumping in your ears, your body still overtaken by all the horrible symptoms of your fear. The moment that Fred dropped the broom in order to step away from it, you stumbled off into the grass on weak legs.

You hardly realised that you were hyperventilating - you simply felt dizzy, felt your chest aching from the lack of breath; you noticed that your vision was blurred with tears, and you knew that you weren’t getting enough oxygen. You pressed now muddy hands to your face in desperation, trying to usher more air past your lips, and it was then that a streak of orange fell into your view as Fred dropped to his knees in front of you. He had heard you gasping, and of course, rushed to you with nothing more than concern flooding his system once again.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” He murmured, trying his best not to panic himself at seeing you like this - he gently took a hold of your face, guiding your vision toward him. “Look at me. You’re alright now. You’re safe.”

Of course you knew that. You knew that you would always be safe with Fred.

But your body hadn’t even registered the fact that you had landed yet - the panic only now fully setting in, bringing with it the most cruel, shocking symptoms you had ever experienced. You did the only thing you could think of - the only thing that would truly make you feel safe. Something you knew would truly ground you after experiencing such chaos so high up in the air.

You launched yourself toward Fred, pressing your face into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist in a firm hug as you tried to stifle down sobs. He easily accepted this, his thick arms coming to cradle your back, selfishly thankful to have you back in his arms. He gently rocked you back and forth as he peppered more soothing words beside your ear.

“You’re alright now, darling.” He said, letting the pet name slip so easily that it frightened him. He rubbed a hand up and down your back, feeling your gasping panic all too quickly soothe away under the firm warmth of his touch. “You’re alright.”

Almost instinctively, he laid a kiss on your temple, not entirely realising that this wasn’t necessarily something an ex-boyfriend would do - he was so ripe with the urge to comfort you, the need to make your pain go away. He couldn’t help but take a little something selfish as the empathetic waves of your panic echoed over to him.

“I was never gonna let you fall.” He whispered, almost speaking these words to himself - a sacred promise.

He had regretted every day since the break-up, and even if he couldn’t be your lover, he was never going to let you get hurt.

You gripped him tighter, your breathing almost back to normal now, and you pushed your face tighter into his chest, relishing in the firm warmth of his body against you. This was something you hadn’t felt in far too long. Fred placed another kiss on the top of your head. He was about to say something entirely dangerous when another bit of chaos came tumbling through the garden, distracting him away from you and causing the words to die off in his throat.

Remus, hauling George across the grass - and George, slumped over, a massive amount of blood dripping down the side of his head.

“Georgie.” Fred gasped quietly.

Your head whipped around at this, and in sync, you and Fred scrambled to your feet, rushing to see what had happened to him. Fred lifted George’s other arm to help get him inside and safely rested him on the couch.

It was a horror show.

The flesh of George’s ear had been blown to bits, blood smearing down across his face and spilling down the side of his neck; he was sickly pale and barely conscious. His eyes only flickered, giving you some sense of life in him when Fred called out his name after making sure he was resting comfortably on the couch.

“Georgie?”

There was a rare quiver in Fred’s voice that made your stomach quake. Fear. You were not accustomed to hearing Fred fearful, not of anything. Even when he had abandoned Hogwarts and dove into a career as a shop owner without a single clue if he would find success, he did so without a single bit of fear in his heart.

But of course - seeing his dear brother like this, knowing that someone he loved had been so close to danger - it made him terrified.

“Hey, Fred.” George croaked back weakly.

At least he was conscious enough to speak. That gave you quite a bit of relief.

“How’re ya feeling?” Fred asked.

“Saint-like.” George replied, a tired smirk gracing his lips that told you he was forming a joke - something that was utterly hilarious in his mind that would only make sense to others when he delivered the punch line.

You wanted to sob, you wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream. Of course he would be making jokes only moments after nearly being killed.

“Come again?” Fred said quietly, tentatively.

Perhaps it sounded partially dangerous to him like it did to you. Perhaps George felt Saint-like because he was too close to death.

Both of you and Fred held your breath as you waited for the reply.

“Saint-like.” George grinned. And then he lifted a tired hand and gestured toward the bloody hole on the side of his head before he delivered his glowing punchline. “I’m holy. I’m holy, Fred. Get it?”

Fred grinned, and you let out a gasping chuckle that you knew was mostly tears. Behind you, Molly inhaled sharply through her teeth, running a hand over her forehead with the stress, and Ginny shook her head as she exhaled an exhausted sigh.

“The whole wide world of ear related humour, and you go for ‘I’m holy’?” Fred replied, unable to resist humouring George. “That’s pathetic.”

You knew that if either of them knew anything about the story of the Muggle painter Van Gogh, then they would have been making jokes in that lane.

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you.” George added on tiredly.

“You were always better looking than him.” You said, your voice throttled by tears, unable to resist.

When you turned around to retreat, you saw Ginny clutching onto Molly, clearly hiding tears in her mother’s shoulder, Molly’s face dancing with a kind of sadness you had never seen before. You knew you couldn’t run from your pain. You had known the Weasleys for so long, loved them too much. You had a distinct kind of duty here.

“Molly, do you have a cauldron around?” You asked, hating how choked with tears your voice was. “I can whip-up something for his pain. I do it at the shop all the time. And a Sleeping Draught, so he can get some rest.”

It was true - one of your many duties working at the Apothecary was making and bottling simple, common potions to sell (pregnancy test potions, simple multi-use pain potions, Dreamless Sleep Draughts, cures for warts and other common rashes) - many people liked the convenience of coming in and buying a potion for everyday uses rather than having to make it themselves.

“There’s no need-” George began to protest, but Fred easily cut him off.

“Come off it.” Fred hissed toward his brother, not taking kindly to ‘selfless’ idea of George not accepting something for the pain he was clearly in. Then, Fred rose up from his place beside George and turned to you with a look of intense concern on his features. “Whatever you need.”

…

You had barely begun to set up everything you needed for the brewing when the others finally came in, bringing more chaos with them. Remus accused Harry of being an imposter, which was quickly proven false. Apparently the Order had been betrayed, which explained the presence of Death Eaters on the mission so easily. They had used inside information to know when Harry was being transported - it was only luck that they had been thrown off by the Polyjuice Potion, having to chase down multiple Harrys and not knowing which one was real (even if George got gravely injured in the process).

Mad-Eye had been killed.

You weren’t sure if what you felt was mourning for the man. You hadn’t known him all that well. Not the true version of him, anyway. You continued to weep quietly as you worked on the potions, but you knew it wasn’t specifically for him. His death only served to remind you how truly dangerous the mission had been - how close you, Fred, and George, and the others had all come to death. How lucky it was that nobody else had been killed.

You tried not to let the suffocating gloom that had overtaken the Burrow due to the near failure of the entire mission disrupt the process of making the potions needed for George. When Molly didn’t have some of the ingredients that you needed, you gave Fred your spare key to the Apothecary and he popped over to get them for you. Mr. Michaelchuk, who ran the place, had always told you to ‘take what you needed’, and this was the one time you had actually taken him up on the offer.

When Fred returned, he fussed at George’s side, helping him change into pyjamas (when everyone else had cleared out) and tucking him in comfortably to a makeshift bed on the couch, with lots of pillows and extra cosy blankets, to the point where he got annoyed with Fred coddling him. You always knew that the two were good friends in addition to being brothers, as close as two people can be, but you had never seen so much abundant affection between them. It was sweet.

Molly came back downstairs wearing a plaid dressing gown, with a pair of tiny reading glasses balanced on her nose, her slippers scuffing along the floor. She mentioned that Arthur was already ‘snoring away’ - but of course, she had no intentions of going to bed herself. Because of course, if George was down here on the couch, it was so that she could watch over him while she busied herself with knitting - much like she had when Arthur had been on the ward at St. Mungo’s after he had been attacked by the snake. You had gotten a particularly nice jumper for Christmas that year, one that you still wore often when it got particularly cold outside.

Fred had settled to sit on the couch by George’s feet, and the two had fallen into a hushed conversation, though you didn’t hear most of it. And of course, it wasn’t long before Molly rushed Fred off to bed, just like she had done with everyone else, wanting to give George the space to rest without distractions from visitors.

“-just get her back, you idiot.” You hear George hiss in a whisper before Molly pushed Fred toward the stairs.

He couldn’t possibly be talking about…?

No.

No, he wasn’t.

You didn’t think about it. Instead, you let yourself get lost in the meditative process of brewing, making sure that the potions were perfect. You made sure that George was pain-free and lost to a deep, restful, healing sleep (with a few pre-brewed bottles of the potions to spare that would keep his pain at bay for the next few days) before you finally went upstairs, ready to collapse with exhaustion.

You passed by Fred and George’s room on your way to your final destination, Ginny’s room, where you would be staying with her and Hermione, from now up until Bill and Fleur’s wedding. After which, you would return to your apartment above the Apothecary and try to resume your best sense of ‘normal’ life. All of your things were already unpacked in Ginny’s room, and you had a sleeping bag set up on the floor there.

But of course, you naturally came to a stop at the mouth of Fred’s open bedroom doorway, letting an instinctive caring overtake you and participating in the need to check on him.

The sight you saw made your heart ache.

Fred was sitting on the edge of his twin bed, his posture slumped with pure exhaustion. He hadn’t even changed out of the now ill-fitting Harry clothes that he had to wear for the mission: jeans, a tee shirt, and a grey sport jacket that were now coated in dirt and traces of George’s blood, all oddly short in the limbs and emphasising his tallness, his hands still stained bright red in a way that couldn’t be washed off.

His face was marked with tear tracks, and his tired, dead gaze was fixated on George’s still neatly made matching twin bed. A space that was hauntingly empty across from his - a sign that his brother was missing. A sign of just how easily someone precious could have been taken from him that night.

“Freddie?”

You croaked out, the nickname slipping out in a way you couldn’t control once again, causing him to snap out of whatever distant, depressing thoughts he was caught in. His head jolted toward you, only now realising that you had been standing in the doorway for so long.

“Y/N,” He responded, his voice choked by tiredness, sadness.

It was so alarmingly strange to see someone who was usually the pinnacle of laughter reduced down to this. You had never seen Fred Weasley so sad before.

You had seen him angry, on occasion - like when someone insulted you, or when he had been banned from Quidditch for getting into a fistfight with Malfoy. You had seen him annoyed - like when he found out that the age to enter the TriWizard Tournament was seventeen, and he was only a few months away from being eligible. (You were thankful for that one, and secretly thankful when his Ageing Potion had failed).

You had seen Fred go through a lot - but you genuinely believed that was the first time you had seen him so deflated in the face of the world.

He rose to his feet, turned his back to you, almost as if trying to hide. He raised a hand to his face, and your heart ached more when you realised that he was trying to wipe away tears.

“Come on, let’s get you ready for bed.” You said, moving forward, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, moving up to peel the sport jacket off him.

You knew that the sadness, something he so rarely felt, had paralyzed him. You knew that sleep was what all of you needed right now - some rest to get your heads on straight. And you wanted to help him in any way that you could.

“I can’t-” Fred huffed, stepping away from you, putting some distance between the two of you in the small room. “I can’t do this right now.”

Your stomach curled into a horrible knot as he echoed the words he had spoken to you on that horrible day, when he had broken up with you and relinquished himself from your presence without a second thought.

It truly hit you then - he didn’t want your help. He didn’t want to be near you now. He had only held you close a few hours ago because it had been a matter of life and death. He had helped to calm you down because it was the friendly thing to do. He didn’t want you here now.

“Okay.” You choked out, nodding, taking a step toward the door. “O-okay.”

A hot tear rolled down your face, and you moved to make your way toward Ginny’s room. You were harshly whipped across the emotional spectrum again when Fred stopped you.

“Y/N, no.” He said, reaching out and grabbing onto your elbow. “Wait.”

“What, Fred?” You wheezed, your body breathless and exhausted from the horrible roller coaster that you had been on that night. You knew that you glared at him horribly, but you couldn’t help it. “What is it that you want from me?”

Fred took a step back, as though you had burned him, running stiff hands through his hair. You could have easily run off, turned your back on him and never spoken to him again. Just like he had done to you on that day so long ago. But you waited with your chest tight, waiting for him to finally give you an answer. Did he want to be friends? Did he want you to disappear from his life completely? Did he want-?

“I can’t-” He choked out, clearly struggling for breath. “I can’t…”

He swallowed around a fat tongue, and after a heavy moment, he finally got the words out.

“I can’t lose you.”

The words spooked you more than the sight of George’s bloodied, blown-apart ear.

You stared Fred down with a ghost in your eyes, somehow more terrified than you had been when you had been dangling hundreds of feet above London. He was frantic, rapidly searching for more words to explain himself.

“I - I almost…” He gasped, his throat tightly constricting again. “You almost slipped out of my hands.”

He spoke the words as though they were a horrible curse, raising his hands in front of him as if to demonstrate the point, as if to demonise his own limbs for not having enough strength to hold you up. His hands shook with undistilled anxiety, with anger towards himself.

His declaration gave you that sickly sense of nausea, as though you were back up in the air again. You realised that maybe he hadn’t been sitting on the edge of the bed, mourning about potentially losing George - but instead, he had been thinking about you.

“I didn’t. I didn’t slip.” You replied, the words choked off in your throat, rushing to assure him of the good he had done.

You were unable to resist the urge to reach out and take his hands in yours, steadying his grip with a firm anger of your own. You were unsure how he could be so cruel toward himself when he had saved your life only hours before.

“You held me up, Fred. You didn’t let me fall.”

He let out a huff, shaking his head negatively.

You knew there was something more troubling him - something deeper that he had yet to speak of, or perhaps wouldn’t tell you at all. He grinded his jaw tightly and slipped his hands away from yours. You stood there, looking at him tensely, wondering if he was going to clue you in, or if he would simply say goodnight and let himself stew with whatever horrible emotions he was feeling.

“I can’t live like this.” He declared harshly, his throat raw. “I can’t live with you at arm’s length.”

So what? Was he saying that… he was upset about the break-up?

Was he saying that he hadn’t actually wanted to be apart from you?

A look of pure confusion knit across your features, and in the murky silence, Fred moved on to explaining.

“I let you go once before.”

He whispered, the words so quiet on his lips, a crazed type of regret dancing in his eyes - in an instant, you knew he wasn’t talking about the mission or flying. He was talking about how easily he let you go from his life - the break-up.

“I let you slip away from me far too easily. And it was the stupidest thing I have ever done.”

“Freddie-?” You choked out, more chaotic emotions rocketing through your body now. Anticipation, anxiety - that love for him that you had bottled away slowly creeping back in. But you couldn’t bear to let it flow through you, not yet, not until you knew.

“If one of us were to die tomorrow, I couldn’t live my last day knowing that I wasted it not being yours.” He declared, the pure passion in his words causing every small hair on your body to stand up on end, making you dizzy. “I know that I’m the biggest git on earth for what I did to you, and for not apologising sooner, but please, please, please, darling-”

You couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed both sides of the sport jacket and used it to haul him down toward you, planting your mouth firmly onto his, moaning into a kiss that you had longed for, having so sorely missed the touch of his lips on yours.

You had missed him so damn much.

Fred was quick to keep up, letting out a delighted sigh of his own, his stomach doing flips in delight, almost in disbelief of just how lucky he was that you hadn’t slapped him across the face and stormed out.

When your hands ventured down, smoothing across his body - he became even more delighted that you seemed to want more than a kiss out of him. And he was quick to prepare.

He reached to his back pocket for his wand and pointed it at the still open bedroom door, performing a quick spell that slammed it shut and locked it. In the back of his mind, he was thankful that his bedroom had some silencing wards around it from the days when Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes had been in its infancy, operating their prototype experiments out of this room in the darkest hours of the morning. (Percy got sick of being woken up by the twins’ excited voices and the sound of sputtering cauldrons, and put the silencing wards around their room for his own sake, not knowing how much more it let the twins get away with.)

Fred was surprised when you took another fitful grip on the front of his shirt, using it to direct him back toward his bed and shoving him down onto it with a strength that he barely knew you had. He fell sideways across the small twin bed, his knees crumbling along the side of the mattress, leaving him sitting with his feet on the floor and his body half collapsed against the tightly tucked-in covers that his mother had prepared before everyone’s arrival.

He was utterly weak to your whims, anyway, and would have gone wherever you put him.

He was expecting you to climb on top of him, something needy inside of him yearning for the feeling of your body on top of his after missing it for so long. And he found himself further surprised when you dropped to your knees in front of him, settling your shoulders between his spread thighs, forcing him to spread his legs wider apart to accommodate you. The action spiking a sharp breath out of his lips when you shoved up the hem of the shirt that technically wasn’t his and reached for the button on the jeans that fit him even worse as his cock grew to life underneath them.

“Y/N, darling-” He choked out, breathy and sharp through his teeth, an intense wave of lust hitting him all at once.

All night, both of you had been through the emotional ringer - calm determination, fear, possessiveness, mild relief, grief. All while trying to hold back your emotions for each other, balancing right on the edge. Trying desperately to hold each other at arm’s length.

And now he had you right where he wanted you, where he had been dreaming of you being for months since the break-up; and for some stupid reason, some part of him still felt that it was wrong. That part of him screaming that he should be the one on his knees serving you, that he needed to better apologise-

He reached for your shoulder, clearly trying to coax you back up onto the bed with him, and you swatted the touch away.

“Don’t-” You choked in return, continuing on your determined path, ripping his zipper down and tugging at the waistband of his jeans. “Freddie, please. Let me do this.”

You looked up at him with a glassy heat in your eyes that he had never seen before. All the times he had pinned you against walls in quiet corners at Hogwarts, with his hand up your skirt - he had never seen you so wild, so desperate.

Something utterly possessive rippled through you - something that screamed that you needed to have him weak and moaning for you, that you needed to worship him, to thank him for doing the impossible and saving your life. He was a strong, wonderful man and you needed to taste that strength. You needed to know that you were the only thing that could have him weak, quivering, begging.

“Fuck-” Fred hissed out when you reached past the band of his underwear and grabbed his cock - your warm touch wrapped around his shaft felt like a deadly awakening, especially when it had been so long since anything but his own had had touched his cock.

All too soon, he surrendered to you entirely and lifted his hips, slipping the fabric of his jeans and his underwear down completely past his thighs, letting you have whatever you wanted from him. He supposed that’s how it always went with the two of you - he would let you have whatever you wanted, even before you asked. (That’s why the break-up had gone down the way it had - it had been the one time he had been stubborn on something, not simply letting you have your own way.)

You took him in your hand, slowly pumping his length as you admired him, gently re-familiarising yourself with his body, feeling like it had been far too long.

“Did you miss it, darling?” He asked, looking down the length of his body at you with a cocky smile stretched across his soft lips.

You rolled your eyes, hating the possibility of making his ego any larger.

“Oh yes, your wonderful big cock was the thing I missed most about you,” You griped in return, hoping that your sarcastic tone was more than apparent.

“I knew you only wanted me for my body.” Fred chuckled.

As much as you wanted to deny it - Fred Weasley’s cock was a marvel that you couldn’t have forgotten if you had tried.

During your time apart, it haunted your heated dreams, turning them into nightmares of pure want, your mind dangling something in front of you that you couldn’t have. It made things even worse when he would come into the Apothecary, flirting with you and flashing you a smile, showing off his broad shoulders in those fine tailored suit jackets and making your eyes flicker to his zipper in an utterly whorish way.

Now, you felt spoiled to have it in front of you again - the perfect beastly eight inches, lean and tall just like he was, curved off slightly to the side, sticking off from a sparse patch of ginger hair.

Your pussy clenched as you thought about having him inside of you again for the first time in so long, giving you that perfectly full feeling that your fingers never could - but you craved his taste first. You wanted him under your control - you knew part of it was driven by all the fear you had experienced that night, all the chaos that had made you feel so powerless. You needed to feel alive, needed to wield power over someone, something.

You got your mouth on his cock with a downright feral hunger.

Fred let out a deep moan and threw his head back, collapsing onto his elbows as the heat and wetness of your mouth enveloped the heat of his cock - it sent another wave of lust zipping through him, reminding him just how throbbing hard he was, just how much he needed you. This was made even worse when you moaned around him - you couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling of his cock in your mouth, perfectly full, making you choke in such a beautiful way when you dropped down to take more of him.

“Fuck, darling, shite-”

You quickly became drunk on the feeling.

Your eyes fell closed and you simply let yourself enjoy it, loving the fullness of his big, beautiful cock filling up your mouth. With a hand loosely wrapped around the base of his cock, your jaw wide as you began bobbing your head. Your tongue flat against the base, tasting as much of him as you could while you enjoyed the feeling of him so fat and thick in your mouth, gagging you slightly whenever the round tip hit against the back of your throat. It was a perfect, slow rhythm that agonised him and delighted you, and soon had spit pooling around your knuckles.

The wetness drove him even more insane, especially when it allowed for your soft lips to move slicker against his shaft.

“Goddammit, please, please, oh-”

You could feel his thighs begin to quake and quiver beside you, and you wondered if he was close already.

You couldn’t resist the urge to pull off - wanting to tease him a little. Part of you wanted that bit of revenge, wanting to get him back for the pain he had caused you when he had turned his back on you that day. Though you weren’t entirely cruel, and you didn’t leave him hanging out to dry completely.

You kept your hand pumping on his now spit-slicked cock (it was that slow, agonising rhythm that caused him to pant like a needy dog), and you moved your mouth downward, giving in to the personal urge to lick and suck on his heavy balls. You did want to drive him a bit more insane, and give into your personal curiosity about what the heavy sac would feel like against your tongue.

“Fucking - oh - darling, what are you doing to me-? That fucking mouth-”

Fred wasn’t sure if this was heaven or hell.

It left him stuck in some sick purgatory where the woman he loved had turned into a sex-crazed vixen, but wouldn’t let him touch you everywhere he wanted to most. Instead, he was sentenced to stare at you as your gorgeous mouth teased his aching cock, making him harder, driving him madder with every stroke of your little devilish tongue. He couldn’t take it anymore - not when your pretty fingers gripped around the base of his cock just right and your lips suctioned so perfectly around one of his bullocks.

He wouldn’t waste the night cumming over your fist without getting his hands on you properly first.

He weaved his fingers into your hair and yanked you back, caused you to let out a small yelp - not one of pain, but a bitter sound of complaint as you were pulled off his cock too early for your liking. The sharp tingle of him pulling on your hair caused your tongue to lull out, trailing a filthy bit of spit back to his balls that had him growling.

Before any words could form, he leaned down and used this grip on your hair to guide you to his lips, shoving his tongue into your open, waiting mouth - something that had you moaning once again, and easily following his lead as he guided you up to sit on his thigh.

“Don’t expect that I’m gonna waste it all over your hand, darling.” He murmured against your lips between heated kisses. “When I cum tonight, it’s gonna be deep inside your sweet cunt, yeah?”

You moaned loudly at this.

You had devolved past the point of words now - having his cock so thick and heavy in your mouth only making you fuzzy-headed and more needy for him. You unconsciously canted your hips against his thigh, grinding your pussy against him through the fabric of your jeans, needing more. You panted against his cheek as he moved deft fingers to undo the button and zipper of your pants while he continued to speak.

“I need you, pretty girl.”

He growled lowly in your ear, the pure passion of the declaration causing such intense waves of lust through you that you would have collapsed - if not for the brick wall of his muscled body holding you up. (Hold you up for the dozenth time that night, only for a drastically different reason this time).

“I need to see you cum on my cock. Missed this pretty cunt so much, can’t wait-”

He trailed off in his crazed lustful ramblings when he shoved his fingers past the now open fly of your jeans and into your underwear, quickly finding a distinct wetness and landing on your clit with a firm touch like a magnet.

“Freddie!” You wept into his neck, bucking into the touch as you tumbled into a madness of your own.

He began circling quickly on your clit, enjoying your gasps and other sounds, enjoying the feeling of you bucking so wildly on his thigh. All too soon, he was overtaken by a little pinch of mischief that always crept up on him. The urge to get you back for your earlier teasing. He quickly removed his hand and felt a smirk spread across his lips at the deflated little whimper you made, your eyes snapping open just in time to catch him licking your wetness off his fingers.

“Fred-” You began to protest, sharp demanding in your tone.

“Come on, get these clothes off,” He said, giving you a firm pat on the ass that made you far too weak to his whims.

“Freddie-” You whined this time - and rather than giving into you, he brought up a fantastic point.

“The faster you get your clothes off, the faster I can get my cock in you.” He whispered hotly against your ear, making you shiver.

You hated that he was right.

You stood up, moving to strip your shirt off over your head, glaring at him the whole time while he also began to strip himself.

“Go on, good girl.”

You hated how those words made you even wetter. You hated how easily he manipulated you based on weaknesses he knew so well.

“I hate you.” You mumbled quietly, absolutely no heat in the words as you reached to unclip your bra.

“Oh darling, if only that were true.”

He said pointedly, mourning peeking through that bit of mischief in his eyes. Something you didn’t have too much time to decode as stood to his full height to untangle his jeans from his legs, knowing that you would quake in his shadow and become even more turned on from this.

Once you were both naked, he ushered you down onto the bed, making sure that you were comfortable with your head on the pillow as he captured your mouth in another needy kiss. You moaned against his lips, easily sucking his tongue in as you tangled your fingers into that fiery red hair and gave an appreciative tug. You then tucked your knee up over his hip, opening yourself up to him - this caused his heavy cock to brush against your wetness, making you gasp into his mouth as the two of you made contact for the first time in far too long.

“Freddie-” You gasped, unconsciously bucking your hips up, causing your pussy to wetly slide against his cock in a way that forced a deep groan out of him. “Oh, fuck, oh-”

“Shh, darling, Daddy’s got you,” Fred replied, palming across your forehead and your hair in an almost gentle way while he further parted your thighs with a firm knee.

His words caused you to choke on another moan.

You had heard Fred refer to himself as ‘Daddy’ before - but much like everything else in his life, it was always a joke. He would be buying his favourite sweets and mumble ‘come to Daddy’ before tearing open the package and devouring them. He would say that his codename was ‘Big Daddy’ when setting up a particularly epic prank. (George was ‘Big Red’ and you were usually ‘Darling’ or ‘Garden Flower’. They were not the most useful or top secret codenames.) You had heard him jokingly shout ‘Daddy’s home’ when returning to the Gryffindor common room, only to have the expected laughs and jokes in return.

You had never expected that the name would turn you on so much. But you had never, ever expected to hear it in this context. You had also never expected that it would sound so natural in this context. But it suited him so well. It seemed to only compliment the gentle kind of caring he gave you - how protective he was over you, how safe he made you feel.

“Daddy,” You moaned in return - Fred gripped your hip with a deadly, bruising grip and looked at you with a fierce heat in his eyes.

Hearing that word from your lips turned him on in a way he couldn’t explain. And in that moment, it took every bit of his personal will not to slam his cock into you and hammer his hips forward until you said it again, and again, and again. Until you screamed it.

He took a hold of his cock with the other hand, and you expected him to slide into you, finally giving you both what you truly needed - but instead, he began rubbing the round head of his cock against your clit, further teasing you. You let out a gasp and looked at him with pleading in your eyes.

“Freddie,” You whined, attempting to angle your hips up, fruitlessly trying to trick him to slip his cock inside of you. You knew him too well, knowing that once he got the tip in, he wouldn’t be able to resist fucking you senseless. But he held you down with the hand on your hip, making you barely able to move at all against his muscular hold and the awkward angle he had you pinned with.

“Come on, sweets,” He purred, laying a kiss on your forehead, and then your cheek, trailing kisses down your neck as he murmured against your skin. “Tell Daddy what you need. Say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”

He began roughly smacking his cockhead against your clit, making you jolt and gasp sharper, making your pussy leak furiously against the bed. You cried out and gripped his hair tightly, almost meanly, desperate for the teasing to end. You didn’t see the way he was staring at your cunt, mesmerised by the sight of your swollen pearl kissing against his cock, glistening, wet and needy. Something that he would burn into his brain forever and most definitely revisit on lonely nights.

“Please, Daddy!” You moaned, hoping the name alone would goad him into giving in. But you knew what he truly wanted, and you couldn’t wait any longer. “Please - fuck - I need your cock. I need you to fuck me, I need-”

Perhaps he was truly satisfied by this, or perhaps he couldn’t take the teasing anymore himself - either way, he finally guided his cock down to your pulsing entrance and pushed in, swearing hotly under his breath when the tight, wet, perfect heat of your cunt began sucking him in for the first time in over a year.

“Oh, oh fuck, Freddie,” You moaned, tugging on his hair. “Oh-”

“Fucking perfect,” He swore into your ear. “Dammit, I’ve missed this pussy so much.” He choked on a groan as he continued slowly inching his hips forward, splitting you open with his massive length, making your pussy ache and burn in the most perfect way. “Good girl. So good for me. So good for Daddy,”

You both moaned loudly once he was fully seated inside of you - you, feeling that deep satisfaction of feeling so perfectly full once again, and Fred so deeply enjoying the wet warmth of your pussy around him that was so irreplaceable because it was you.

Sensing your need, especially after all his teasing, and after spending so long without him - he didn’t make you wait any longer.

Fred began rocking his hips into yours at a gentle, even pace, not wanting to hurt you. From the sound of your gentle whines and the feeling of you squirming beneath him, he could tell that you needed more. He could tell that now wasn’t the time for holding back.

He let out a gentle grunt and you became even more heated and curious as he began shifting around, some clear intent on his mind. You let out a sharp gasp when he raised himself up on his knees, poising himself in the perfect position to fuck you hard, deep, and powerful. Then, he made it even more deadly when he grabbed you by the backs of your thighs, making more air hiss out through your lips when he pressed your body practically in half, pressing your knees up toward your chest before he hooked his arms under your legs to keep them there and planted his hands firmly on either side of your chest.

The two of you were even closer, even more intimate, and you felt him so much deeper inside of you.

“Freddie,”

You croaked out darkly, already feeling him so much deeper as he settled in above you. Your pussy was leaking furiously around him now, clenching tightly and waiting for him to move as a ghost of dark mischief danced through his eyes that promised you were in for the sweetest kind of hell.

“Good?” He asked, smirking at you.

“Yes, but what about-?”

You wanted to warn him not to make too much noise, not to break the bed, which was already creaking in protest underneath the two of you - but he didn’t entirely care. Fred never truly cared about the consequences of his actions once he got an idea in his head - to him, the thrill was more than worth whatever pain may befall him.

The only time that hadn’t been true was when he had made the foolish, heat-of-the-moment mistake of breaking up with you. And now, he had to make up for it.

He put all the power into his muscled thighs (the same muscled thighs that had saved you just a few hours ago by gripping onto his broom and steadying the flight) - and ploughed forward with intense power. This began an unforgiving, hard rhythm of pounding into your cunt in hard, deep, fast strokes.

In seconds, you were putty beneath him - he had you perfectly pinned in place so that you couldn’t have moved an inch if you wanted to, all you could do was lay there and take it. You were weak against the savage movements of his long cock fucking into your swollen pussy over and over again, filling you up in the best way you could have imagined, becoming everything you needed in the world.

As the room filled with the harsh, wet slaps of his skin against yours and your weak moans, followed by his increasingly animalistic grunts - all there was in the world was you and Fred, the space where the two of you met, the place where he had your thighs pinned open so that his cock could absolutely ruin your pussy.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me,” He growled against your lips - you moaned pathetically in return, flooding even more wetness around his cock, making the sound of him fucking into you embarrassingly slicker. “Never should have let you go. Should have kept you right here, right where you belong,”

You wanted to tell him that perhaps the fight was both of your faults, that you should have reached out to him sooner and told him that you wanted him back. That the time apart had been so dreadfully tender for you too.

But your brain was soup, only further stirred up by the tip of his cock poking around in your guts. So any words you could have said chased out of your lungs with every passionate thrust of his hips up into your wet pussy, and all you managed in return was:

“Daddy! Fuck, oh-!”

“Shh, darling, I know.” Fred mumbled into your neck, taking a sloppy, greedy lick of your skin. “I know, sweets. Daddy’s gonna give you what you need. Gonna keep you fucked n’ full. Never gonna let you go again. Never gonna let anyone else touch you-”

Fred’s hips stuttered and you tightly squeezed around his cock at the words.

Perhaps it was a wink of his personal insecurity peeking through. The horrifying idea that because he had broken up with you, you might find somebody else. When in fact, you had been so caught up on him, only thinking about him, waiting for him. (The whole time, thinking that he had broken up with you because he no longer had any favour in his heart for you.)

“Just you, Freddie.” You breathed out, desperately trying to get air past your now very chapped lips. “Always yours-”

“Yes, mine.” He replied, that crazed desperation returning to his voice. “Mine, my girl.”

He sealed his lips against yours, grinding his hips tightly against your pelvis rather than fucking you with any kind of rhythm now - showing you just how deep he was inside of you, just how much he owned you, truly, from the inside out. It was something that made your stomach clench, made your body buzz with electricity, and made you whine around his tongue.

You were close.

Fred knew this - he knew you too well. He moved a hand down to your clit, letting one of your legs drop slightly, and had two determined fingers on your throbbing clit while he picked up the pace again, pulling his lips back from yours.

“You gonna cum for me? Gonna cum for Daddy like a good girl?”

His words, his velvet voice speaking to you so commanding yet so sweet, were what truly brought your orgasm to life in your belly. His voice made the fullness of his cock and the sharpness of his fingers on your clit all the more electric. You likely could have cum just from his words alone if he kept speaking to you that way.

“Yes, Daddy.” You moaned in response.

“Good girl. Come on,”

He breathed hotly against your chin, his eyes now eagerly dancing from your face to the space where your cunt hugged his dick, leaking around him in such a wonderfully filthy way. Clearly, he wasn’t sure where he wanted to look, what part of the show he was more eager to witness after missing out on you for too long.

“Come on, cum on my cock. Cum for me, love, good girl-”

His heated words trailed off as your head snapped back and your eyes squeezed shut, your fingers digging sharply into his bicep as your orgasm rocked your body. Fred grunted as he continued to fuck you through it, his eyes glued to you, taking in every single inch of the sexy beauty that was you, the love of his life, as you thrashed and moaned and came on his cock. It was the most perfect sight he could have imagined, and he easily ingrained into his mind forever, praying that he would never have to miss out on it - to miss out on you - ever again.

“Yes, yes darling, so good for me, so good-” He practically choked on his own words, his voice so thick with lust that it barbed the insides of his throat.

As he felt the last weak spasms of your pussy around his cock, he stopped rubbing your sore clit and became possessed with a new need, becoming slightly selfish now. He fucked his hips forward even harder, determined to find his own pleasure inside the sweet, soft walls of your cunt.

“Fucking hell-” He choked out a groan, dropping his head into your neck again as you petted through his hair, encouraging him through it while he unintentionally sent sharp zaps of overstimulation through your pussy with every needy, sharp push of his hips.

“Freddie,” You breathed out. “Come on, Daddy, cum for me. You’ve been so good to me, come on-”

He let you another loud growl and pounded into you harder, dropping his hold on your other knee and letting your legs rest to cradle around his waist as he blindly chased his own end inside your soft, wet cunt.

“Gonna fill you up, gonna fill you up so good,” He whispered into your neck, chanting like a man possessed, sending another unexpected wave of heat through you that made you moan weakly. “All mine, all mine, darling, all mine, gonna give you what you need, fuck-”

He tried to silence his moans into your neck as he stiffened his back and finally came - his own orgasm hitting him like a firework. He shoved his hips forward stiffly one last time, seating his cock deeply inside of you, stuffing you full, just like he had promised. He gentled grinded his hips against yours in mindless, stuttering strokes while he pumped spurts of hot cum deep inside of you - something that made your body buzz with even more heat and made you moan in return, clutching onto him tightly with your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders.

“Oh darling, oh-” He muttered quietly against your neck as the last waves of his orgasm washed over him.

It was so perfect, and made you feel so utterly connected to him. It was a distinct reminder of everything you had missed - his warmth, his caring, the thrill he gave you while at the same time making you feel so damn safe.

When Fred moved to pull away from you, moving to break that connection, every instinct in your body screamed that it was wrong. You clenched your legs around him, digging a heel into his lower back to keep him close, and he let out a grunt - still dizzy from his orgasm and unsure what you were doing. But he settled back into place, creating a filthy ‘squish’ between the two of you.

“Just hold me.” You said, having no clue when the tears had returned to your eyes, making your voice so clearly wet. “I missed you. I can’t lose you.”

“Hey, hey shh.” He said, leaning up to kiss along your cheek, rushing to kiss away those tears. “I’m right here with you, darling. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to lose me.”

He wrapped his arms around you, wiggling his grip between your back and the mattress to do so. This created the most stunning cocoon, forcing your two bodies even closer together - it wasn’t long before he became soft inside of you, but he stayed there for as long as he reasonably could, kissing along your forehead, your cheeks, your neck, uttering quiet reassurances that you weren’t going to lose him, that you wouldn’t have to miss him any longer.

It made you incredibly content and warm. At least while it lasted.

When Fred finally pulled out of you, you felt a deep sense of dissatisfaction and loneliness, which you tried to ignore. Especially because you weren’t sure if he would want you to sleep in his bed - which was something that you wanted very much, especially after the long day you had. But you weren’t sure if he wanted to be left alone to contemplate all of it, to be sure of his decision to take you back.

You jumped to get out of the bed as though it were on fire, and when you looked to your rumpled clothes on the floor - your jeans still stained with dirt from when you had collapsed in the garden, your shirt likely reeking of sweat from the nerves of everything that had happened - the idea of putting those clothes back on wasn’t exactly appealing.

Then, something else came to mind.

“My things are in Ginny’s room…”

You sighed, realising that if you wanted a pair of pyjamas for the night, or even a fresh pair of underwear, then you would have to waltz in and wake her up - and likely be interrogated about where you had been. She was all too knowing anyway, and any excuses you gave about spending the time caring for George or simply having a ‘talk’ with Fred would be seen right through by her.

Fred hummed, and stood, and you were surprised when he comfortably went over to the chest of drawers against the wall at the end of his bed, going right to the top drawer. The drawer where you used to keep some of your things when you stayed with the Weasleys on holidays - and surely enough, a small collection of your things were still in there.

Things that he had never returned to you after the break-up that you had never thought to ask for. You had no idea that he often came to this drawer, sneaking mournful whiffs of your scent - even used your shirts as a pillow case if he was feeling particularly lonely.

He pulled out a pair of your comfortable sleep shorts and a large, soft, worn green tee shirt with a large shamrock on the front and a ‘94 on the back that he had bought for you as a souvenir from The World Cup. It had been your all time favourite sleep shirt, and you had wondered where it had disappeared to when you moved into your apartment above the Apothecary once you started the job.

“I hope these still fit.” He said, handing you the clothes.

“They should.” You said - quiet, careful not to acknowledge the elephant in the room. The fact that he had kept your things all this time.

“Unfortunately I don’t have any panties for you, so…” He trailed off, a filthy grin plucking up over his cheeks once again when the implication hit the air - the fact that you would be commando underneath your clothing.

“Yeah, very unfortunate in your eyes, I’m sure, Fred.” You huffed, turning toward the door. “I should go get cleaned up.”

You let out a small squeak when two strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you sharply back, causing you to collide with the wonderful, bare, muscled, now slightly sweaty body. You couldn’t help but to melt into the touch, and you let out a quiet moan as he began kissing your neck - not in a particularly lustful way, but in a way that was purely loving and affectionate.

“Don’t think you’re getting away from me that easy, darling.” He whispered in your ear. “Please, do come back afterwards. You know I like to cuddle,”

You didn’t think that you had ever heard Fred Weasley say ‘please’ for anything so plainly in his life. But, as usual when it came to him, you wanted exactly what he wanted.

“Only if you insist.” You joked lightly, smoothing a hand over his arm that was still tightly encircled around your middle. “I suppose I can clear some time in my very busy schedule for cuddling,”

Fred quietly let out a ‘yes’ in celebration, and hesitantly let you go. He then collapsed back onto the bed, relaxing spread eagle, still confidently naked against the covers with his hands behind his head against the pillow. You couldn’t help it when your eyes did a once-over of his body, admiring the soft planes of his muscles that had come from hard work rather than a distinct workout routine and the beautiful bit of fat on his lower belly that made him so warm and nice to cuddle. Of course, when your eyes met his, he was smirking at you.

“I’ll be waiting, love.” He told you with a wink.

You rolled your eyes at this, biting your lip to suppress a smile at his somewhat deserved cockiness.

You moved to leave the room with your newly acquired clothes, wanting to freshen up in the bathroom a bit before going to sleep (the bathroom was right across the hall, so you would have to sneak across the way naked and hope that nobody would catch you, but it should be fine at this time of night). But when your hand twisted the knob and it didn’t budge, you remembered that Fred had locked it earlier.

He moved to grab his wand from the pocket of his pants, splayed out in the middle of the floor, but you reached for the jeans first. Your wand was still downstairs beside the cauldron that had brewed the potions for George, but often, you found that Fred’s wand worked fine for you.

Ollivander and other wand experts said that a wizard couldn’t find the same kind of success using a wand that wasn’t their own, but you found using Fred’s to be just as natural, like an extension of your own arm. Perhaps it was because his core was a Dragon Heart’s String, and that heart beat for you just as fondly as his own did. Either way, it was a fine substitution. You unlocked the door easily and tossed the wand back to him where he was sitting on the bed, and then you snuck across the hall to clean up and get dressed.

When you came back, Fred had crawled under the covers and was starting to fall asleep. When you crawled in alongside him, you found that he hadn’t bothered to get dressed, so you locked the door again, just in case. It was a basic charm that anybody could get through, but it would give the two of you a few minutes of warning to make yourselves decent if somebody did come knocking.

It felt like the most wonderfully natural thing in the world to settle beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist while he slept on his back, putting your head on his chest and feeling his sleepy fingers brush across your head from behind.

“Goodnight, love.” He whispered, so quiet as though he was afraid to break apart a beautiful daydream.

“Goodnight, Freddie.”

…

You wondered if all of it had been a dream.

Fred apologising to you, begging for your forgiveness, the two of you having amazing sex - it was something you had dreamt about many times before. It was something you had wished would come true, only to find yourself waking up alone in a cold bed. So waking up next to Fred, with his large, warm body coiled up against your back like a koala was one of the best ways you could have come into a new day.

It wasn’t long before the smell of Molly’s cooking reached your nose - the wonderful fatty sizzle of sausages and the bready warmth of toast that told you she was frying up a full English (likely because she had been having trouble sleeping after the events of the night before). Your stomach gave a painful pang, making you want to get out of bed to eat just as much as you wanted to stay cuddled up with Fred.

You gently petted a touch along Fred’s heavy arm that was wrapped possessively around your waist, and soon, he sucked in a sharp breath as he too began to stir.

“Merlin, I missed this.” He said, leaning in to smother you with more of his perfect warmth as he somehow crowded tighter against your back, kissing along your clothed shoulder and up your neck once again.

Your heart fluttered with the sweetness, the fondness of it all, and you wondered how such a hellish night had made way to such a perfect morning.

“I wish we could stay in bed forever, Freddie, but I think your Mum is making breakfast.” You remarked, finding yourself more aware of your hunger as you woke up more, and more drawn to the delicious smells.

“We can stay here for a bit longer.” He hummed into your neck.

Just then - his stomach let out a loud groan of protest, and you giggled.

“Come on, Big Daddy needs to eat too.” You said, using the nickname in a more playful, joking manner as you patted his thigh, untangling yourself from his arms as you got out of bed.

You were surprised, and slightly victorious when you saw a slight blush tinging his pale cheeks because of the teasing, the way you had used the nickname. It was amazing to see someone like Fred go from so powerful and confident to fluttering with shyness.

“I have to find some trousers,” He remarked, suddenly remembering that he was naked.

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” You grinned, walking across to the bathroom, lucky to beat anybody else there before the others started waking up.

When you hit the bottom stair, Fred was standing at the back of the couch with his back to you, now fully dressed in a pair of comfortable plaid sleep pants and an old Chudley Cannons shirt that must have belonged to Ron. (It was only because of many winding discussions about Quidditch among the boys that you hadn’t even wanted to hear that you knew the Cannons were Ron’s team and the twins hated them.)

Fred was leaning over, clearly talking to George, who was still laying where the two of you had left him the night before. You hated that your instinct was to stand back where neither of them had seen you and listen in on their conversation - but you had only learned such matters from Mr. and Mr. Extentenable Ear themselves.

“...well, yes, I would say that it did go well, but I would still have to classify the nature of the relationship as dubious. Or friendly at best.” Fred said in a rushed whisper.

Your stomach gave a twist. This time you had to assume that the twins were talking about you. Talking about what had happened between the two of you the night before.

“Dubious?” George’s voice baulked, clearly trying to stay hushed himself, but having a hard time restraining his volume due to frustration - frustration at not being able to get a better answer out of his brother. “The two of you had sex and you’re classifying the nature of the relationship as dubious? Are you an idiot or was the sex that horrible?”

You choked down a laugh at this, not wanting to be caught just yet, and resisting the urge to speak up and clarify that the sex was, in fact, great.

“No, she seemed perfectly satisfied, thank you very much.” Fred hissed back, full of sass. You would have said more than ‘satisfied’ - for once, Fred was actually being humble. “But I just didn’t think to stop and ask: oh, by the way, does this mean that we’re back together and you still love me? Or were just scared and lonely after almost dying and wanted a decent lay? Can you fill out a post-orgasm survey to clarify, please, and make sure to-”

An arm came up from the couch with a pillow, smacking Fred clear in the chest - hard enough to force a small grunt out of him. George was certainly feeling better. You were glad to know that your potions had done him some good.

“You should have just asked, you numpty!” George scolded him. “You’ve been mooning over losing her for-”

“Y/N,” Fred cut off his twin’s words by saying your name, announcing your presence as that smack with the pillow had caused him to finally turn his head and spot you there.

“Fred.” You grinned, not at all ashamed that you had been caught.

You walked over to the couch, leaning over to find George grinning at you in a way that said he was holding back a barrage of stomach shaking laughter because of the conversation you had caught the two of them in.

“For the record, I would call the sex more than satisfactory.” You said, a mischievous grin coming over your lips. “And I do still love you.” You announced, turning toward Fred. “I was lonely and scared last night, but that’s why I came to you. You’re the only person I want to go to when I feel that way. I missed you. And I want you back if you’ll have me.”

“Merlin, of course I’ll have you.” Fred breathed out a sigh of relief, now grinning as well. “I love you more than anything, darling. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“I have some idea, and it was bloody annoying.” George muttered out, only to be ignored.

You leaned in for a kiss, naturally, but just as Fred’s lips brushed yours, George let out a loud, fake gagging sound - one that had Molly running into the room, clearly fretting and worried that George was actually ill.

“I’m fine, Mum.” George groaned as Molly began patting down his head with a wet cloth - clearly, his night had been filled by the annoying, but loving fuss of his mother watching over him.

“Yes, yes of course.” Molly nodded, hesitantly putting the cloth down. “It’s time for breakfast anyway - do you feel up for sitting at the table, dear?”

“I would love to get off this bloody couch.” George groaned.

Fred rushed around to help him up, and after a moment of struggle to his feet, you grabbed his other arm to help him along into the kitchen.

“I suppose it all worked out for the better.” George said, smiling at you. “Even if you did end up with the less attractive twin.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile at this.

...

A/N: This fic is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. This is a capsule story meant to be read independently, and in terms of the narrative, there will not be a continuation. If you are going to leave a comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written here, do not comment asking for more. If you would like to read more of my fics, please take a look at my Harry Potter Masterlist, more specifically, my other Fred Weasley fic - Kisses Like Fire Whiskey. Thank you if you have gotten this far, and happy reading!

#star squared #fic comments #sundrop speaks #interactions #harry potter fanfiction #my lovely moots

2K notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 2 years ago

Note

Yandere Tengen Uzui Hcs ! Please

It feels good to be able to write more. Also, I naturally included his wives in here.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, overprotective behavior, threats, warnings, death

Yandere Uzui Tengen Hc’s

🎶Tengen is an individual who doesn't hesitate at all to approach you as soon as he has gained an interest in you, he's never been the shy type to begin with. There's no way to avoid the exuberant male either, even if you end up hiding he always seems to find you somehow. Very pushy to get to know you better, he almost always hangs around you and invites you over so you can meet his three wives. Tengen is possessive and protective so no wonder he rarely leaves you alone. Confident in his abilities and the skills of his wives, he is pretty sure that he can protect his precious darling better than the average person ever could, especially considering demons that might lurk around in every corner. He's not delusional though, he still knows that there are people far more talented than him and sometimes he might doubt himself but he rarely shows this whilst with you. It's his problem and not yours after all.

🎶Very affectionate and touchy, there is rarely a day where he doesn't flirt with you. He's a bit of a tease so especially if his s/o is the shy and bashful type, he'll love to tease and swoon over their flustered reaction which only encourages him to continue. Always has some sort of skinship with you, either by having an arm around your shoulder or holding your hand. He likes to show off what is his after all, especially to bring a certain point across in front of special people. Stalking is only done when there is no other way for him to be with you since Tengen adores your presence. Despite his expressive behavior, he's also quite shrewd and a good observer so he is quick to notice if something is bothering you in which case he can be a bit pushy until you tell him. The type to tell his darling to let him handle everything that might trouble them and ignore their protests with that boisterous attitude of his.

🎶He's tall and good-looking so some simply decide to avoid you since they are either scared of his height or realize how attractive the man next to you is, not to mention his arm that is tightly wrapped around you. The Hashira enjoys taking his darling outside and he also is confident enough that the normal person would think twice before approaching you with him, and often his wives, as your company. If someone does have the nerves, he uses his height to tower over them and pull his darling even closer against him though that smile of his doesn't disappear. It turns more cocky though, especially when he notices that his tactic to intimidate someone works. If someone is not confident from the get-go, he tells them in such bluntness that they shouldn't try if they're insecure and if someone is confident and doesn't give up, he ends up making them feel somehow inferior with his skills. If you show interest in someone, he might be a bit huffy since he doesn't understand what on them is better than on him yet that energetic behavior of his never disappears, at least not when you're there.

🎶That exuberant attitude of his disappears when he's in a serious mode and is a rather scary switch. He's very protective over his precious darling after all, makes sure that all demons that are sighted near their village are quickly taken care of so they don't have to worry about anything. When he threatens someone, he does it initially with the same smile of his though there is something crooked going on with it since it doesn't reach his eyes and his voice is a few octaves deeper as he silently threatens someone to stay away. He's a Demon Slayer so his job is it to save humans yet sometimes he has to wonder if there aren't exceptions. Everyone who hurts you or treats you rudely without remorse is only scum in his eyes as well as in the eyes of his wives. All three don't shy away from threatening someone, Makio by far the most impulsive one from the four. Such warnings are most of the time enough but who knows, someone might end up being poisoned are unfortunately killed by a demon if they don't listen.

🎶You don't know how but somehow he manages to make you move in with his wives and once you're inside that house, you aren't going to leave it anymore. Unless one of them accompanies you that is. The household is a bit chaotic since sometimes a small argument erupts who gets to spend time with you but Tengen, Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma always manage to make up and spend time together with you. The problem is that all of them seem way too adament to dote on you to the point where you feel like they don't trust you with anything. Hinatsuru is the most understanding one so she would arrange you to help them somehow so you don't feel completely useless. If you mention to Tengen that you want to leave them, he brushes it off with a slight laugh and a nudge against your forehead, chiding you for such a bad joke. You'll notice that his grip on you tightens if you should continue though before he pulls you flush against his chest and mumbles in a lower tone that you're home, where you belong to.

🎶Congratulations for not only having him but his three lovely wives adoring you too. It's like his obsession is infectious or something like this since they adore you just as much as Tengen does. All of them take care of you together. He's rarely mad with you, most of the time he just chides you like a little child when you throw a tantrum which might only serve to infuriate you further since you feel like he doesn't take you seriously. Once he ends up becoming a bit scary, you're just as quick to feel frightened though. Very touchy, he smothers you with affection, all of them are in some way suffocating though, Hinatsuru is the least overbearing. Boasts in front of others about how sweet, precious and lovely you are. You don't have to worry about anything, he'll take care of it for you together with his wives! You just have to deal with him since he is incredibly time-consuming, never wants to leave you alone when he isn't on missions.

#yandere demon slayer #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere tengen #yandere uzui tengen

283 notes · View notes

certifiedwhore4slashers · 3 years ago

Text

Scream 1996 Headcanons(SFW)

includes sidney, billy, tatum, stu, randy and dewey. reader's gender is not specified so gender neutral:)

pretty short headcanons. Mainly because I’m lazy

Warning: Slight NSFW mentions(not extreme) and obsession.

Sidney

-Would 100% be protective of you, due to past experiences of losing loved ones under "mysterious" circumstances, aka ghostface.

-She would be very soft to her s/o, so very much a cuddly type of girl.

-Jealousy rate is 3/10, she definitely trusts you, so i feel like she wouldn't get jealous. But of course, can get a tiny bit jealous if some flirts with you.

-Sidney might be slow with trusting you after Billy fooled her, but she would end up trusting her s/o, knowing you were different.

-This girl loves affection, but not entirely PDA, maybe hand-holding at the most?

-Sidney is pretty insecure, but not for reasons people might assume, so she would kinda assume sometimes you don't truly love her, but you assure her every single time you do.

-Sidney has intimacy issues so it would take her a while to be intimate with you but you’re pretty patient:)

-She tries to be there for you as much as possible and tries to keep you safe if a ghostface is in town. It really depends though if her s/o listens or not.

-in private she’s a pretty affection person and would rather spend her free time with you than anyone else:)

-Sidney would be in-between little spoon and big spoon, she would like cuddling but again she would have to be in a serious relationship for any of that, not a one-night stand type of girl.

-If her s/o is taller than her, she would like it because height doesn’t matter same thing if her s/o was short, height isn’t the biggest thing in a relationship.

-you two would probably have been very close best friends before dating, She doesn’t really date random people that she’s known for not that long.

Stu

-what can I say besides the fact that this man is completely fluffy? or is he really?

-in some situations, Stu can be manipulative towards you when he wants to be. For someone who Is always cheery he has a dark side.

-of course Stu stalks his s/o, mainly as ghostface so he won't get noticed.

-he’s a very cuddly person and also a big spoon, but sometimes he can be the little spoon, I really depends.

-Stu’s a very clingy person which is canon-? Idk for sure but it seems to be. His parents are never really home so having no parental figure he’s clingy and attentive.

-if you’re small, he loves it, sometimes teases you about it, but not all the time.

-if his s/o is taller, he also loves it, a tall partner is a win-win.

-as for your intimate life, he’s kind of on board with that and loves fucking, dom/sub it doesn’t matter to him:)

-Stu still is ghostface though so he does kill for you. Sometimes tries to scare you because he thinks it’s hot when you don’t enjoy it.

-I would say jealousy scale is a 7/10, you wouldn’t know that though by the looks of it but he is. Once again a very attentive and clingy person if anyone touches what is his then it’s over for them.

- he does get jealous of Billy occasionally, but he trusts his partner in crime.

-unlike Sidney I don’t think it matters to him if he’s known you his entire life or only a week, He could fall for you instantly.

Billy

-He’s a bit more complicated than Sidney and Stu just in the way he is a psycho but I’ll try.

-not really a big fan of affection, at least publicly and it depends on his mood. He’s got mommy issues so he does love affection if he’s in the mood.

-Jealousy scale is 100000/10, this man will not think twice about killing for you, at least as ghostface. He can contain his jealousy at like school or in public.

-tbh you were going to be his victim until he fell for you. He normally wouldn’t fall for someone so fast but you were different.

-so he kinda got obsessed with you, possessive as well. You’re his and his only, nobody else’s.

-sometimes Stu will help Billy kill people close to you or people who’ve wronged you in his eyes, delusional? Maybe.

-this might be Yandere? Idk, this is canon considering Billy’s a psycho. his possessiveness does bother you sometimes.

-despite falling for you fast he would have to have known you for a while, just like Sidney. He’s a hopeless romantic like Stu.

-Possessiveness is like 1000000000/10, He is a killer, after all.

-very manipulative, convincing you to date him in the first place.

-Like Stu, he would stalk you and get to know you before you became his s/o.

-guarantee that your life changes forever<3

Tatum

-she’s a cool and chill person, so She would convince her s/o to do crazy shit, like getting high or going to parties.

-very confident and tries to boost your self-confident a lot, if her s/o is self-conscious:)

-I don’t think Tatum is a very jealous person so her jealousy scale would be 1/10? That’s the lowest so she trusts you a lot. -being her s/o, you would join the friend group and maybe get along with everyone? it depends. if you're shy then maybe not.

-If her s/o is confident, then you would get along with her friends. You both would go well together<3

-Tatum would be intimate with you as soon as possible, with consent and would be soft with you.

-You would join her on her wild shit:)

-Being Tatum's s/o, you would get invited to the cool parties and sometimes get drunk with your gf<3

-She would be there for you in your darkest times and just in general, always supporting you and defending you.

Randy

-Randy is a huge softie, so guarantee he would be fluffy with you and cuddle you whenever possible<3

-You would watch a ton of horror movies, even though he could be very into them and go a little crazy.

-He is more protective than jealous? I could see that but i would give his jealousy a 3/10, i guess?

-If his s/o was a horror geek too, he would be pretty happy someone shared the same interest as him.

-Like Sidney, He would have had been close friends for a while before falling for you, just because he would know you pretty well, so dating you would be pretty easy.

-He would be very understanding and also your #1 supporter besides your parents if you had a good relationship with them.

-You sometimes visit him working at the movie star, kind of mess with him but not too often, you don't want to get him fired.

-Both of you are total dorks, but that is what makes you compatible:)

Dewey

-Like Randy, is a TOTAL Softie, but a bit insecure because he thinks you could do a lot better. But you assure him several times that he is good enough for you.

-Dewey is a bit shy so if his s/o was outgoing and an extrovert, he would be a bit overwhelmed but would love you anyways.

-sometimes, he is the big spoon, but could be the little spoon occasionally.

-Jealousy scale would be 5/10, but not extreme and is mainly due to insecurity and regret.

-He tries to protect you as much as possible because he couldn't save his little sister <3

-Very supportive and caring towards his s/o, comforting you whenever you need him.

-If Ghostface returns and you two are dating, he would try and keep you out of it, for your safety.

-So in general, Dewey is a pretty good bf:)

#stu macher #billy loomis #tatum riley #stu matcher x reader #tatum riley x reader #randy meeks #sidney prescott #sidney prescott x reader #randy meeks x reader #billy loomis x reader #dewey riley x reader #scream 1996 x reader #scream 1996 #y/n #scream x reader #gn!reader

1K notes · View notes

iambilliejeanok · 3 years ago

Text

🌸Introducing: 🌸

Fandom:Attack On Titans||Jujustu Kaisen|| Naruto

Warnings: 18+, NSFW,

🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸

Levi as Mr Steal Your Girl/Guy

Player stats:

Here’s a short king who knows his worth and will literally use your girl or your man as an example, incase you try and disrespect him because of his height.

Isn’t much of player, but let’s just say that if he wants you…he can probably have you.

Loyalty:

He’s not one to sleep with every one in town, and he only does hoe shit to humble the haters.

When he’s in a relationship, he’s one hundred percent loyal to his partner and expects the same from you.

Love Languages: (in order according to him)

Quality Time

Words of Affirmation

Physical Touch

Acts of Service

Giving gifts

Because he could die on any day, it’s always his priority to spend ample time with his loved ones.

He’s very vocal about the way he feels about you and expects you to return that energy, or else he gets sad, but he won’t complain about it.

Prefers to spend the night with his partner, is always bummed about about being far from you.

Pros:

If it’s two things you benefit from living with Levi is that he’s a great cook and doesn’t mind taking care of dinner most nights.

He also does a great job at keeping the place neat and tidy.

Will make you feel like you’re the only girl in the world.

Cons:

The place is clean. Always. Everytime. The two of you might have an argument about the cleanliness of the house every now and then, especially if you’re not able to keep up with how he likes things. It’s just something he can’t compromise for.

Very protective of you. He’s lost too many loved ones to not micro monitor you and constantly need reassurance that you’re by his side or he will have a panic attack 🥺

Sexual fantasies:

Levi always imagines face fucking someone to his hearts desire. He’s always wanted to freely do that, but who’s gonna let him? So he’s accepted that the reality of that happening is very much non existent.

Sexual preferences:

Doesn’t matter what gender he’s dating, he’s always the top. Always. He cannot be tamed. He is the tamer.

He’s very gentle 🥺 but that doesn’t mean he won’t make a few adjustments for your preferences. He’s more of a love maker than a fucker. Loves the moment to be sweet and sensual, no matter how filthy it gets.

He’s open to anything, but he especially loves to give a good spanking while he’s giving out back shots.

Likes it raw. A condom just isn’t the same.

Desires:

Loves to give head. From the back, with your ass in his face please. Will eat your ass too…if you let him clean it for his own peace of mind.

Just thinking about the taste of your juices gathering in his tongue makes his mouth water. He might be too desperate to wait until the two of you are home.

💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗

Gojo as The Player:

Player stats:

If y’all looking for a hoe you got it right here. FOR THE STREETS! Even he can’t estimate his body count. You’re always hearing reviews from nearly every one😩

If he’s in a relationship he will try his best to stay faithful but he can’t ’t guarantee anything legit 😭

Let’s just say that relationships aren’t really his thing. But the streets….home.

He prefers a no strings attached thing and never sleeps with the same person twice. Also prefers to sleep with people who don’t happen to see him everyday or know him too well.

Doesn’t know who you are afterwards. Don’t even look at him because he seriously forgot.

Loyalty:

When it comes to bitches…do I even have to say?

But when it comes to his students and friends? He’s very loyal. You’d get more loyalty and respect from being his friend than his lover.

But otherwise, would literally die for you without a second thought if he does hold you close to his heart.

Love languages: (in order according to his personality)

Acts of Service

Words of Affrimation

Giving gifts

Physical Touch

Quality Time

He will bend over backwards for those that he cares about to make sure they’re safe, happy and successful.

He doesn’t even realize that he does this, but he always compliments people. He’s gonna say whatever is on his mind anyhow, so when you do get a compliment from him, just know it’s genuine. He also is also very vocal about his feelings, so expect him to say a few caring things along the way.

Anytime he sees something that reminds him of you, he’s getting it. You’re going to wake up to flowers everyday and a bubble bath when he’s got some time off.

He loves getting things done for you, even the smallest of things, like opening your juice box for you.

Pros:

He’s a walking bank. Mei Meis favourite contact. So if you share a personal relationship with him, he’s most likely spoiling your ass everyday. That means souvenirs from all the places he travels too. If you’re his girlfriend then his card is yours. So wax, nail and eyelash appointments are all on him. And expect to receive all your services from the best. He tends to spend a good coin everywhere he goes so he’s quite famous amounts business owners, you’ll most likely get really great discounts and offers. Might even get yourself a wig sponser just for rolling with him.

Sex is very overwhelming with him. And you get it every time he’s with you. 😓(when will it be me)

You could learn quite alot from him and excel with his support and motivation.

Cons:

He’s gonna cheat on you girl. As for respect, he’s got non of it. The sweetest boyfriend in the world, but he’s not just your boyfriend. And when he’s done with you he’s really done because not even the baddest pussy in the game could get that some loyalty. Maybe he might smash twice…maybe.

Sexual fantasies:

He’s hasn’t quite figured out how to make this work, but he’s always fantasized about getting showered in squirt. Yes. You read it right. He wants nothing more than a bunch of women all masturbating to the sight of him and then squirting all over him and moaning his name in unison.

Sexual desires:

Very rough and aggressive. Loves to take out a lot of energy during these sessions. He’s always gonna go hard, deep and fast when he’s fucking you. For one, he wants you to come quick in his dick, quick enough to bring you to a screaming mess by the third orgasm.

Loves to have you scratch him hard while he’s turning your soul inside out, literally making you gush like a tap with that goofy ass smile on his damn face.

He just absolutely loves hardcore fucking. And he needs someone who’s able to handle it. It’s one thing to be willing to let him fuck you the way he wants, it’s another thing to actually let him fuck you the way he wants.

Sexual preferences:

Missionary, preferably with your legs slung over his shoulders and your hands clawing at him while he’s at it.

If he really likes you, he’s gonna make you suffer. Until you’re begging him to stop. If this is just a quick session for him, he’s just gonna last as long as it takes for him to cum before he’s out of there faster than you can say black flash.

🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸

Kakashi as The Toxic King

Player Stats:

Well what can I say, being toxic takes thought and planning, which is something Kakashi is good at when he wants to be.

Will literally romance you and make you feel like the only girl in the world one day, and then treat you like a complete stranger the next.

He’s broken a lot of hearts. Doesn’t have a good reputation amongst the ladies.

I can’t say you cannot count on him because he’s gonna make you feel like you can and then he’s gone, on some “we aren’t even dating” 😭😭😭😓😓😩😓

Loyalty:

Sure, he’s loyal when he’s serious. Like I said, he’s toxic side is pre thought and mediated. He’s not naturally toxic, so when he doesn’t decide to put that monster away in the closet, he can be very promising.

Will he cheat on you? Probably not if you’re officially together, but as long as he didn’t specifically say “I want you to be my girlfriend/boyfriend”, he’s a single man.

Will literally watch you cry, comfort you, and still keep repeating how silly you were for believing in ideas he certainly didn’t out in your head.

He is a prick yeah.

Love Languages: (according to his personality)

Physical Touch

Quality Time

Acts of Service

Words of Affirmation

Gift giving

He’s very touchy, and can be super romantic, that’s why he’s dangerous😩 but with the right person, it’s absolutely amazing. He’s all about that skin on skin contact. Hold his hand. Always. Slipping his hand under your shirt and leaning his head on your shoulder or on your head.

Will serenade you to the moon and back, taking you on plenty of date nights, lunch dates, etc. giving you all the attention in the world, it’s great when he’s serious about you, but just plane cruel torture if he’s only feeding his own desires and not yours.

If he actually starts taking a lot of weight of your shoulders, that’s when you can guarantee his serious about you, because he doesn’t usually enjoy doing unnecessary work if he doesn’t have to. But for someone he’s serious about, he’ll do just about anything for them.

Pros:

Treats you like a queen! Spoils you in more ways than just financially.

Loves some nice, slow and dragged out foreplay. Until you’re basically begging him to move along with things.

There are quite a few pros that come with dating the Hokage.

Cons:

TOXIC! He’s such a liar when he isn’t all about you. Will tell you exactly anything you wanna head if it will get you off his ass about something. “Are you really only with me?”, “yes sweetheart, no one else has my interests like you” 😩😭

Sexual preferences:

Serious switch energy. Literally whatever works for the moment, he can run with. Maybe he leans a little more toward the top side, but he certainly does love being a pillow prince sometimes.

He gets really mean when he’s giving out back shots and will literally fuck you are even when you’re screaming for him, but he absolutely love this position.

Sexual Desires:

If there’s one thing Kakashi lives for, is the way you struggle to kiss him back while he steadily finger fucks you. Loves loves love, everything that revolves around fingering you.

He always makes a big mess whenever he puts his hand between your legs, and even if you’re begging and whining for the real thing, he might not give it to you at all, if you don’t quit whining. You just simply have to let him finger you to his hearts desire. Even if it means you’ll keep coming for him.

Sexual fantasies:

A threesome with a man and a woman. He’s always wanted to fuck while getting fucked. Or topped while being topped. Maybe suck a dick and eat pussy at the same time. He’s also always wanted to people giving him all the attention, both of them greedily sucking his dick, maybe with an extra person sitting on his face. He just loves the overwhelming idea of being pleased and pleasing.

💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸💗🌸

335 notes · View notes

ficmachine · 3 years ago

Note

Maybe monty with headcanons about a trans guy reader and how he supports them?

Look, I know we all know Monty as a hothead with a short fuse but he would ABSOLUTELY support you more than anyone else.

under cut bc kinda long

Montgomery Gator (FNAF) x Trans man Reader

[Headcanons - Ally Monty]

Whether you just started coming out or you were going stealth the whole time Monty doesn't seem all that surprised. The only indication might be is the way he briefly rises his eyebrows at you, waiting for you to continue. When you instead ask what he thinks, he simply shrugs.

He doesn't get why so many people make a fuss about the whole gender thing but he also realises that humans are much more complicated than he is. It's only when you explain just how difficult it was for you to tell him that he realises how much you personally have to struggle with just to be you. Something inside him clicks and he grumbles something about it being unfair to you.

He doesn't need to be told twice so if you tell him your preferred pronouns and name he'll switch to using those immediately – no questions asked. You're still you, and you're still his, and that's all that matters to him.

If you ask him he'll make sure your name, gender, and pronouns are updated in the company's files. He'll even get you new badges with your updated name and help you come out to the rest of the employees. If not, he'll simply ask what can he do to make this easier for you – if you want him to do anything at all, that is.

The croc goes out of his way to research as much as he possibly can on the subject, occasionally going off to find someone who might know about this to ask something he couldn't find an answer to on the internet. For the next few days he's in research mode, doing his darn hardest to educate himself as much as he can. After all, he's got a lot of spare free time at night, and you've been off sick, so he's got all the time he needs.

When one of the managers asks him why the sudden interest in the trans community in general - after he snarled at them to mind their damn business - he simply states he heard someone mention being trans and wanted to look into what it was. After all, it's not like their programming is equipped with that kind of knowledge either so he was simply curious.

He also found out that being “he/they” is a thing... Hm... Uh-oh.

Oh well, he’ll dwell on that another time.

By the time you're back and feeling better he's not only educated himself but also (begrudgingly, he claims) shared what he found out with his bandmates just in case they didn't know being trans is a thing. And for the most part they did, but they let him angrily vent about how much shit trans people gotta deal with anyway.

He can and will absolutely fight a bitch on spot for you. He would've done it anyway but now he realises that more often than not people misgender (it has a name, as he found out) you on purpose. Earlier he would've shrugged it off and barked your correct pronouns at them, not exactly realising how uncomfortable it made you. Now? He's ready to throw hands on sight if it's an adult.

If it's an honest mistake, especially from a child's side, he'll calmly correct them and ask them to not do it again. If the kid asks why he'll very slowly kneel down to their height and explain that you're a man; you've always been a man, and that your voice, face, or how you hold yourself doesn't make you any less of a man.

Once or twice you saw him tug a Karen aside and hold a lengthy “conversation” with her during which he held himself back as much as he could. You never really hear what he says but seeing a grown ass adult who just yelled at you and demanded to know what's in your pants, go from beyond peeved to quiet within minutes is always a sight to behold. Bonus if the said Karen or Kyle approaches you after to apologise.

Surprisingly he becomes pretty damn good at diffusing these sorts of situations. How he manages to hold himself back enough to either talk sense into them or personally escort them towards the security office is beyond you, but you appreciate it.

425 notes · View notes

miekasa · 3 years ago

Note

Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it.

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby.

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad.

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on.

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying.

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside.

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place.

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone).

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way.

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for.

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch.

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés.

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this.

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it.

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well.

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program.

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do.

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk.

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes.

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to.

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye).

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester.

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other.

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand.

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right.

#anonymous #when.... when.... WHEN IS IT MY TURN #aot x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot imagines #no because he's the love of my whole life #jean fluff #jean smut #eren x reader

703 notes · View notes

chaos-burst · 4 years ago

Text

one way or another (i’m gonna get you)

Dorian has a problem.

That problem is currently drunk off his ass and trying to balance one of Opal’s daggers on the tip of his nose. Of course he’s failing miserably, hitting himself in the eye with the blunt end twice thus far and maybe Dorian shouldn’t chuckle about it, but Dariax just keeps trying as Opal and Fearne edge him on.

“If you’re not careful you’ll stab your own eye out”, Orym says. He’s still nursing the same beer he started drinking an hour ago, probably to stay sober enough to stop any shenanigans that go too far.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, buddy. That already happened to me, like, three times, and I just healed it back together. No big deal.”

Dorian can see that Orym is at a loss for words.

“Dorian, do you think I can do it?”, Dariax calls over to him where he’s sitting, holding his lute and enjoying the warm evening breeze.

“Sure, Dariax. I’ll write a song about you if you do”, he says with an amused smile. Dorian tries to keep his smile from widening as Dariax beams at him and tries even harder.

All his life Dorian has been taught to be proper and well behaved—maybe that is why he feels drawn towards—well. Towards the group. The group that Dariax is also a part of and that Dorian definitely doesn’t feel drawn towards more than any of the others.

He starts moving his fingers mindlessly over the strings of his lute as Dariax stumbles backwards, falls over Opal’s outstretched legs and lands in her lap with the dagger clattering to the ground in front of them.

Dorian thinks about Dariax sitting on his lap, then he almost chokes on his own spit because so far Dariax hasn’t done anything even remotely appealing or attractive. He’s had shit on his beard, piss on his hands, he’s dirty and loud and so obnoxious.

But when he told Dorian that he’s the handsome one and that he’s just good at talking to people and whether Dorian wants some tips from him—Dorian was tempted. For a split second, he was thinking about Dariax offering to teach him how to flirt.

Because Dorian might be aware that he’s handsome, but he has exactly zero idea about how to flirt with people.

“Hey, Dorian! Do I still get a song?”, Dariax shouts, still half sitting in Opal’s lap.

“Sure, buddy. I’ll write you a song.”

“Cool! It’s a promise!”, Dariax says, thumbs up, a big grin on his handsome face.

There, Dorian can admit it.

Dariax is handsome. They’re all handsome. It’s really no big deal. Not at all.

Dorian tries not to think about what his parents would say about Dariax, because it’s completely irrelevant. It’s not like his parents will meet his friends, and especially not Dariax. Maybe he should go to bed and hope that come the next morning his circling thoughts will have stopped.

“Are you working on the song?”

Dorian blinks and turns his head, only to come face to face with Dariax who managed to get up from Opal’s lap and is now sitting right next to him, leaning way into Dorian’s personal space.

Dariax smells like ten different kinds of alcohol, leather and thankfully no bodily fluids, which is definitely an improvement. Dorian wishes that the fact that he’s seen this man with shit on his beard would dissuade his heart from beating a little faster every time Dariax grins at him.

Sadly his heart doesn’t care.

Neither does his stomach, which is currently doing all kinds of complicated gymnastics since Dariax invaded Dorian’s personal space.

“No. I don’t think I can concentrate in here while all that is going on”, Dorian says and gestures towards Opal who is now teaching Fearne how to do body shots.

“Aw, man. Can you play something? Something...hm. Something cool.”

“All my songs are cool, thank you very much!”

Dariax laughs.

“Yeah, okay, you’re not wrong there. You have a really beautiful voice, buddy. No wonder that goliath lady fell in love with you after like, three minutes!”

Dorian feels something that reminds him a lot of the feeling he gets when he’s falling or misses a step on some stairs. His heart starts doing an offensive little tumble and he clears his throat a little too loud as he leans out of Dariax’ space and clutches his lute as if his life depends on it.

“I don’t think I would know what to do if someone actually fell in love with me”, Dorian says with an embarrassingly shrill laugh and a second after the words have left his mouth he regrets them already.

“Aw, buddy, I told you—I can totally teach you a few tricks, you know? Just show you how to get real popular with the ladies. Or gents. Or people in general”, Dariax says and winks at him.

Dorian wishes he could turn into thin air. His cheeks feel very hot.

“I—uh. I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s not like I really have the time—“

Dariax snorts and raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, come on, Dorian. We’re just hanging out, right? If you wanna get laid, we have plenty of time for that. You should just relax a little more. Okay, so. What’s your type?”

Dorian stares at Dariax for almost thirty seconds before he clears his throat again.

“Uh. I—don’t. Well. Adventurous. Maybe—uh. Maybe brunettes?”

“Adventurous brunettes? That’s pretty vague, buddy. Just saying. Wait a second!”

Dariax leans closer again and puts his hand on Dorian’s shoulder. Then he does a terrible shout-whisper into Dorian’s ear that shouldn’t give him goosebumps but, fuck, it definitely does.

“Are you into Orym?”

Dorian blinks and turns his head to stare at Dariax who looks as if he just found out an earth-shattering secret through some careful investigation.

“N—no! No, he’s not. I mean, Orym is—fine? I don’t, uh—what I meant to say is... I don’t really know what my type is”, he ends lamely.

Of course Dariax feels the need to put an arm around Dorian now.

“Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll get you laid in no time. You have a pretty face and voice and all that, pretty sure that’ll go easy peasy.”

“That’s really not—“

“Hey guys, what are you whispering about?”, Opal shouts.

“We’re trying to figure out what Dorian’s type is to get him laid!”, Dariax shouts back.

“No, that’s not—“

“Ohh! Interesting! You don’t have a type? Did you never have a relationship before? Wait—are you like, a virgin?”

Dorian abruptly gets up from his chair. He’s definitely not drunk enough for this.

“I’m going to bed”, he says and leaves the room in a hurry, ignoring the disappointed shouts of his new friends following him outside.

Dorian hopes that his friends have forgotten the whole thing about supposedly getting him laid and about how Dariax intends to teach him flirting. But unfortunately the universe decides to not do him this favor.

Suddenly, every remotely attractive person they pass invokes a whole litany of questions.

Opal, Fearne and Dariax want to know everything. Which height, body-type, eye color, temperament, and style of clothing does he like? Does he prefer any genders to others? On six different occasions, Dariax tries to wingman Dorian into asking random strangers on dates.

Dorian is so desperate that he considers just telling them that he actually has someone back home, just so they will leave him alone.

It wouldn’t be the first lie he told.

Dorian feels a pang of guilt for lying about his name to these people who keep fighting alongside him.

Orym, bless his soul, is the only person who doesn’t partake in these interrogations and at some point, after Opal had asked Dorian if he was more into “tits or asses” Orym had quietly stated that “he deserves his privacy, you guys”.

Dorian has no idea if he’s a “tits or asses” kinda guy.

But Dorian just can’t stop thinking about the way Dariax’ voice sounded when it lilted “Man, you have the prettiest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen” the last time they were drunk.

It seems weirdly typical and ridiculous that Dorian has to have his first crush on the most chaotic man he ever met.

Dorian wishes he could forget about those damn words, just like everything that happened in their first week.

“You know”, Orym says to him two nights after that cursed conversation as they’re making their way further south towards Byroden, “if you told them to stop in earnest, I think they would respect that.”

The landscape is a carpet of green, sloping hills, rolling fields that lie bare now that winter is closing in around them. The sky is blue and cloudless and as they talk their breath puffs up in front of their faces and vanishes shortly after.

Dorian looks at Orym and then pointedly turns his gaze at Opal and Dariax, who started making a list of their findings regarding Dorian’s type.

“You sure?”, he says with one eyebrow raised.

Orym looks at least as pained as Dorian feels right now.

“I see your point. But they’re not—you know. Not bad people, I guess. I don’t think they want to hurt you.”

“Well, they’re not hurting me, they’re annoying me to death!”

Orym pats him on the back in a way that is so pitiful, Dorian can hardly take it.

“I wouldn’t usually encourage lying, but maybe you could just make up a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or—“

“What if I just tell them that you’re my type”, Dorian interrupts and Orym blinks at him.

“Uh—“

“No offense, you’re not. Not that you’re not handsome or anything, I just. Well—“

“It’s fine”, Orym says with a snort and shakes his head with a disbelieving smile. “You don’t have to fuss about it. You’re also very handsome but not my type.”

Dorian tries not to be offended after the last kick to his ego in Gilmore’s shop and clears his throat.

“Okay, so. What about it? Will you be my—I don’t know. My fake boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Orym, I’m desperate here!”

“I will not be swept up in all of that. I still think you should just try to talk to them.”

Dorian feels betrayed and huffs, but he doesn’t press the issue any further. It’s probably going to be fine, he thinks. That is, until Dariax walks up to him, grins up at him cheekily and bumps his elbow into Dorian’s side.

“So. Are you finally ready to admit it?”, Dariax asks.

There is a glint in his eyes that Dorian can’t quite read.

“Admit what?”, he asks, already dreading the answer.

“That you have the hots for Orym!”

Dorian stares down at Dariax, the man he, so, so very unfortunately has “the hots for” and sighs deeply.

“You caught me”, he says with a gravelly voice. “I have the hots for Orym.”

“I knew it!”, Dariax shouts, then catches himself and turns his voice into a whisper instead. “I fucking knew it!”

Dorian massages his temple.

Maybe becoming an adventurer was a terrible idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. He could make a name for himself somewhere else. The Menagerie coast is supposed to be lovely all year around.

“Okay, don’t worry, buddy. I gotcha. I’ll keep your secret, won’t even tell the girls at all. And you know what, because we’re such great friends I have a special offer just for you”, Dariax says and leans in even closer to Dorian, who has to lean down significantly.

“And what offer is that?”, Dorian asks with a sigh, resigning himself to his fate. At least Orym knows that Dorian isn’t actually attracted to him, so, he thinks, this can’t possibly get any worse.

“I should totally be your fake boyfriend so you can make him jealous.”

Dorian stares at Dariax.

Dariax stares back with the proudest grin on his handsome face.

The universe is trying to punish him. For whatever reason, it must have decided to make Dorian the butt of a cosmic joke. That’s the only explanation for all of this.

“I don’t think that’s—“

“It’s perfect! Don’t worry, I have experience with this sort of stuff, just lemme handle this.”

Dariax winks at Dorian and then grabs his hand to intertwine their fingers.

“Hey guys”, he calls as he pulls Dorian along who follows helplessly, his heart stumbling in his chest as his consciousness zooms in on the feeling of Dariax’ hand in his, “guess what. I should’ve clocked it all along, but of course it makes perfect sense! Check it out!”

And as Orym, Opal and Fearne turn their heads, Dariax raises their intertwined fingers and beams at the others.

“Wait…”, Orym starts slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion, “what…?”

“Too late, Orym. He’s my boyfriend now”, Dariax says and Dorian wishes that the wind would just pick him up and carry him away.

Dorian has to say something.

He can’t, under any circumstances, keep this up.

He is sitting—and gods, his heart is beating so terribly fast—on Dariax’ lap.

Dariax had insisted on it and now his muscular arms are wound around Dorian’s waist as if this is the most normal thing in the world. For someone who doesn’t actually have to breathe to survive, Dorian feels a little bit like he’s suffocating from the staccato inside his rib cage.

They made camp close to a rock formation that, according to Fearne, looks like a pig with wings. The night smells of snow, but Dorian feels hot despite the cold.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He knows it even less when Dariax’ hand finds one of his and just casually starts rubbing circles into the back of his hand with a thumb. Dorian can feel Orym’s eyes on them and sadly that edges Dariax on even more because he thinks his plan is working.

“You know”, Dariax says and sounds way too casual about it, “I can’t believe how lucky I got. Pretty sure you’re the most beautiful person I’ve been with so far, Dorian.”

“I—uh”, Dorian says, then somehow forgets how to speak. His cheeks feel incredibly hot even though he doesn’t sit remotely close to the fire.

Orym cocks his head and suddenly his eyes turn a little too wide for Dorian’s tastes.

Dorian doesn’t want anyone to understand anything about this disaster.

“Well, I would certainly love a boyfriend who tells me nice things like that”, Opal sighs dreamily. “Or—you know. Maybe a girlfriend. Who knows. I certainly don’t.”

She laughs a little too shrilly but Dorian doesn’t have the mental capacity to think about it anymore because a tingling sensation is running through his body and crawling along the underside of his skin as Dariax’ fingers just keep on gently, way too gently, drawing nonsensical symbols and circles on Dorian’s hand.

“Well, I just know what’s good. I make a great boyfriend”, Dariax announces with a smug undertone to his voice. The sad thing is that Dorian can’t even disagree.

So far, Dariax has been nothing but—well. There is no other word for it. Gentle and accommodating. He also started flirting with Dorian and his flirting only ever got tasteless twice during the last twenty-four hours.

He has offered to carry stuff for Dorian, held his hand, given him way too many compliments for Dorian’s poor heart to handle, helped him climb over some rocks and purposefully took a hit for Dorian in combat earlier today while shouting “Not my boyfriend, you ash-hole!”.

If someone had told him that Dariax makes good boyfriend material, Dorian would have scoffed at them.

But now.

Well.

Now he’s in even deeper shit, because this doesn’t help his feelings at all. It does the exact opposite of helping.

Gods, Dorian wishes he could kiss him.

“Well, I am certainly—uh. Happy? For you two”, Orym says with a pointed look at Dorian. Dorian tries to tell Orym that this wasn’t his idea with his eyes alone, that this is the worst, that Dorian definitely needs saving, but he doesn’t think anything gets across because the moment that Orym says that and looks at Dorian, Dariax seems to decide that he can’t have Orym looking at Dorian like that.

Dorian makes an embarrassing screeching sound as he is dipped backwards on Dariax’ lap. There is a very handsome, dwarven face with glinting eyes right in front of his when he opens his eyes again.

“Just go along”, Dariax whispers and before Dorian can protest or even just try to catch up with what’s happening, there are dry, warm lips pressed against his mouth and Dariax is closing his eyes.

Dorian’s brain is blank for a few seconds, then it kicks into overdrive, much like his heart that seems eager to jump right out of his chest and into the campfire. Dorian can’t fault it, because he, too, would love to jump into the campfire, never to be seen again.

Dariax is holding him with one arm while his other hand is resting on Dorian’s cheeks where Dariax’ thumb starts rubbing circles again as he kisses Dorian.

Dorian wants to run away.

He wants to kiss back.

He wants this to be real.

Dariax doesn’t actually want to kiss him. He only does it because he’s pretending, there is nothing real about any of this, no matter how nice and exciting his warm lips feel against Dorian’s.

Dorian pushes him away, clambers up from his position, trying very hard not to fall as he stands up, and steps away from Dariax hastily.

“I—ah. I need to. Pee. Yes. Pee. I’ll be—uh. Later!”

And he walks as fast as he can without breaking into a run.

His lips are still burning after he stops walking without even seeing where he’s going. It’s dumb. All of this is so incredibly dumb.

Beautiful eyes, beautiful voice, beautiful person.

Dariax really has to stop saying these things.

It’s already enough that Dorian developed this stupid crush after such a short amount of time on the road. It’s stupid that it had to be Dariax of all people—couldn’t it have been someone reasonable? Like Orym?

Couldn’t it just have been no one? Or a nice, noble lady that he impressed with his songs and good looks?

No.

He’s standing in the middle of nowhere, his heart beating rapidly in his chest with no clue where he even is or what he’s doing. The trees around him are leafless and bare, stretching towards the dark sky like skeletal silhouettes. Dorian doesn't know what to do.

Dariax kissed him.

He had his first kiss with a complete and utter maniac of a person. His lips are still tingling and gods, he wants to kiss him again and again and again—

“Dorian! Doriaaan!”

Dorian turns around and wipes at his face that feels weirdly wet.

Gods, he hates everything and everyone right now.

Dariax comes to a halt in front of him, his breath coming quickly and holding his compass rose.

“Okay—wow. Your legs. Are so. Long. You’re so. Fucking fast”, Dariax huffs and puts his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

Dorian looks at him and can’t decide whether he wants to kick Dariax in the shin or just run away further.

“So, uh—sorry. I got a little carried away and I kinda—uh. It was brought to my attention that it wasn’t very cool of me to just kiss you without asking if that’s okay with you. So—uh. Really sorry about that, shoulda thought about that before I—uh. You know.”

Dariax scratches the back of his head as he looks down at Dorian’s left knee.

“It’s—well. Yeah, I suppose a little warning would have been nice. It’s—uh.”

Dorian stops and wipes at his face again and when he looks back up Dariax is studying him, his gaze intense and uncharacteristically serious.

“Wait—wait a second. Was that your first kiss?”

“No! I mean. Yes! Sort of! Maybe!”

Dariax gapes and Dorian wishes the earth could swallow him up whole.

“Oh fuck, buddy, man, that’s. I’m really sorry, I didn’t—damn. I really fucked that one up, huh?”

Dariax looks so earnestly mortified at what he’s done that Dorian can already feel how he’s forgiving him, how he finds it endearing, how his heart swells in his chest like the idiot that it is.

“It’s not such a big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just—uh. Maybe we should talk about all of this stuff before… you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, totally. I swear I’m usually not a creep or anything, it was just… you know. The heat of the moment, or something. So…”

Dariax is scratching the back of his head again and swallows before he shoots Dorian a lopsided grin.

“So. No kissing and stuff like that, huh? Just the hand-holding? Hey, maybe a hug or something?”

Dorian stares at him and he could swear that Dariax’ cheeks are a little redder than before, which, Dorian supposes, comes from his embarrassment about his earlier fuck-up.

As long as they’re doing this fake-boyfriend gig, Dorian could kiss Dariax whenever he wants. Because apparently Dariax doesn’t mind that one little bit. He might never get the chance again to kiss him if he says no now.

So Dorian does something incredibly stupid and impulsive and maybe it’s even a real ash-hole move. In this tiny moment in time he decides to be selfish.

“Kissing is fine. Uh—you know. You’re not that bad at it, I guess”, he says and laughs which sounds terribly false in his own ears but Dariax perks up and throws him a reckless grin that makes Dorian’s heart stumble in his chest.

“Ha! You just wait for it, I’ll kiss your brains out before you know it!”

Dorian might be addicted.

He knows that this is all a ruse based on a misunderstanding but gods, kissing Dariax is so good.

And Dariax somehow makes it seem as if he’s just as into it as Dorian is, because he keeps kissing him all the time. Of course, it never happens when they’re alone and only when Orym is in more or less close proximity but if Dorian isn’t careful he’ll start believing that they’re actually boyfriends sooner than later.

Dariax is so good at pretending.

He kisses Dorian as if he never wants to kiss anyone else. He holds Dorian’s face in his hands as if it’s something precious. He kisses Dorian breathless and at more than one point Dorian had to stop him because he was getting a little too into it and he’s afraid of overstepping any boundaries.

Dariax promised that he would kiss Dorian’s brains out and it’s absolutely working. On the seventh day on their journey south they get so caught up in making out that they don’t realize that the others have gone to find a camping place for the night.

“We should—uh. Probably follow them”, Dorian croaks and stares down at Dariax’ lips.

“Hmhm. Yeah. Probably a good idea”, Dariax mumbles. Then he kisses Dorian again.

Dorian gets lost in the sensation of tongues sliding against one another and the feeling of Dariax’ hand cupping his cheeks. Dorian slides his hands into Dariax’ hair and buries his fingers in there, something that provokes a sound from Dariax. A sound that gives Dorian goosebumps all over his arms.

He wants to hear it again. He wants to touch more. He wants, he wants, he wants—

Dariax pulls back, his eyes glassy, his breathing labored.

“I—uh. Ha. I got a little carried away. Sorry. What do you say about checking where the others went?”

“Sure. Yeah. Great idea. Let’s go.”

He steps away from Dariax and stuffs his hands into his pockets to keep Dariax from reaching for them. This is a complete and utter disaster.

Dorian knows that he should stop it.

He shouldn’t abuse Dariax’ trust like this and keep up his pretense when all that Dariax wants is to help Dorian make Orym jealous.

Which has, of course, not worked in the slightest, but Dariax insists that it’s just because Orym is such a rational and level-headed guy.

“We just need to wear him thin, you know.”

Dorian doesn’t know.

He feels like he doesn’t know anything anymore.

When they finally reach the campsite, Fearne has placed her head in Opal’s lap and seems to be napping as Opal carefully braids her long, green hair.

“You guys alright?”, Orym asks with his eyebrows raised. Dorian feels himself flush and clear his throat.

“More than alright”, Dariax answers and winks. The implication makes Dorian’s cheeks heat up even more.

He didn’t think that Orym’s eyebrows could climb even higher, but that’s exactly what happens as he regards the two of them.

“Dorian, can I talk to you for a second?”, Orym asks and gets up from the log he was sitting on. Dorian shoots Dariax a glance and he seems… off.

Dariax doesn’t return Dorian’s look, he just walks over to the fire, lets himself fall down next to Opal and asks, way too loudly to be necessary “So what’s for dinner?”.

But Dorian doesn’t have any time to think more about this, because Orym grabs his wrist and pulls him towards a group of trees, away from the campfire and away from Dariax whose eyes seem to bore themselves into the back of Dorian’s head as he follows Orym into the night.

“What are you doing?”

Dorian doesn’t have to ask what Orym means. He wrings his hands and stares at the ground.

“I—uh. I don’t really... I don’t really know?”

“So when you said adventurous and brunette, what you actually meant was short, stocky and a complete disaster?”

“I—um...”

Orym looks at him with raised eyebrows and despite the fact that Dorian is so much taller than him he suddenly feels very small.

“Well. Dariax kind of got it into his head that I’m into you. Which I’m not.”

“Yes, we established that.”

“Exactly. And. Well, he thought it would be a good idea to be fake boyfriends to make you jealous.”

Orym’s eyebrows rise even higher towards his hairline.

“But I’m not jealous. Because you and I are just friends.”

“I know, okay? It just kinda got out of hand?He’s so—I don’t know! I don’t know what to do!”

Orym sighs and rubs his temples.

“So. You’re actually into Dariax?”, he asks.

Dorian presses his lips together and takes a deep breath before he nods.

“And he doesn’t know. He thinks you’re into me?”

Dorian nods again.

“And now he’s waiting for me to get jealous and for us two to be boyfriends?”

Dorian shrugs helplessly.

“Isn’t that... I don’t know. It seems like lying to him.”

“What do you want me to do? Just tell him that I have the hots for him and then leave the country forever?”, Dorian hisses.

“Well, maybe he has the hots for you, too!”, Orym whispers back and Dorian can’t help but laugh. It sounds a little hysterical.

“Then why would he offer to help me to get with you?”

Orym stares at Dorian for a full thirty seconds. Then he sighs.

“I guess it’s a little hard to... fathom... what goes on in Dariax’ head.”

“That seems like an understatement.”

Orym scoffs and shakes his head with half a smile on his face.

“I can’t believe you actually fell for—that.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry. I guess to each their own.”

“So what’s your type then?”

“Uh—I don’t really have a type. I’m not into the whole relationship stuff. Or—uh. The sex stuff, for that matter.”

“Oh. Oh! I see. Well, that seems pretty convenient. Way less stressful than what I’m doing with my life.”

Orym smiles and shakes his head again.

“I’m not going to lie, when I’m watching you and Dariax or Opal and Fearne I am glad that I don’t have to deal with any of it”, Orym admits.

“Opal and Fearne? How do you mean?”, Dorian asks. His brain is still stuck on kissing Dariax without Orym even being in any close proximity. His whole brain capacity seems to be occupied by thinking about Dariax. It’s an absolute clusterfuck.

“Never mind. So, what do you intend to do? You can’t keep this up forever”, Orym says and pulls Dorian away from a trail of thoughts that was leading towards something explicit and utterly unbefitting of a talk with a good friend about feelings.

“I—uh. I’m still figuring it out. I’ll just. You know, I could just tell him that I’m not into you anymore and then he would probably stop”, Dorian says and ignores the uncomfortable tightness of his chest as he thinks about not being able to kiss Dariax anymore. Or hold his hand. Or being told that he’s beautiful.

He’s so fucked.

“I think you should just tell him, you know? We’re adventurers now, no one knows what might happen. If I learned anything from our Voice of the Tempest, it’s that you should do your best to live without any regrets, because time is a precious thing”, Orym says.

“A weird soup”, Dorian answers, his voice weak and his heart hurting. Orym snorts.

“Yes, sure. A weird, precious soup. Anyway. Think about it, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Something is up with Dariax.

Dorian has no idea what it is, but there is definitely something wrong.

He’s quieter than usual, which is disconcerting. He’s also, very definitely, holding onto Dorian’s hand way tighter than before.

“Hey, is everything alright?”, Dorian asks him quietly as they’re getting ready for the night. The sky overhead is dark and full of clouds and the moon is barely visible.

“Yeah, sure. Stellar”, Dariax says but he’s not looking at Dorian.

“You don’t look stellar”, Dorian insists and puts his hand on Dariax’ shoulder. Dariax’ eyes flicker down to his hand and then up to his face. Dariax opens his mouth to answer, but Dorian doesn’t hear anything because there is a searing pain on his back and he slumps forward and crumples onto his knees.

His vision goes blurry from the pain and he can feel that there is something coursing through his body. It hurts.

“Dorian? Dorian!”

Lying down seems like a great idea. What if he dies now and he didn’t even tell Dariax that he’s not into Orym? What if his adventure ends here already? He doesn’t want to sink into the weird soup that is time already. He wants…

“Take your hands off my boyfriend, you fuckers!”

“Hey! What’s going on?”

“Dorian, are you okay?”

He is definitely not okay and while he probably should have different priorities as he’s bleeding out in the grass, all he can think about is the fact that Dariax just called him his boyfriend.

“Dorian, are you okay?”, Dariax’ voice sounds muffled and far away.

“Heh. You’re really good at pretending”, he lulls as he’s turned onto his back to look up at Dariax’ face.

“What? Guys, I think he has a concussion or something!”

“Well, heal him!”

“I’m trying! Dorian, hey! Buddy, don’t pass out on me, okay?”

“Did you know that your eyes are really pretty?”, Dorian slurs and he wants to raise a hand to touch Dariax’ face that seems way too red all of a sudden, but he can’t move a muscle and as he feels Dariax’ warm healing magic flow into him, he passes out from the mind-numbing pain.

Dorian has never shared a bed with anyone. Neither in a platonic nor in a romantic or sexual way.

When he wakes up there is someone plastered to his side. The quiet snoring tells him that it must be Dariax.

“Are you okay, Dorian?”, Fearne’s soft voice reaches his ears and he turns his head to see her sit on his other side, her hand places closed to his shoulder as if to make sure that he’s within reach.

“Uh—ow. Yeah. What happened?”

Dorian tries to concentrate on his own body and on Fearne’s words, but he’s distracted by the feeling of Dariax sleeping so close to him. His arm is thrown over Dorian’s chest and his face is pressed into Dorian’s shoulder. Orym is nowhere to be seen.

“Those Nameless Ones seem to have a pretty far reach. They really want that spider crown.”

Dorian groans as he tries to move.

“They hit me with poison or something?”

“Yeah. Dariax fixed it. Then he insisted on carrying you back to the cart. Then he insisted to tuck you into bed. And then he just sort of flopped down next to you and stared at you really intensely until he passed out.”

Dorian tries to laugh but almost chokes on it as he imagines this short man trying to carry someone as tall as Dorian. His thoughts circle around the fact that Dariax cared for him, healed him, tucked him into bed.

“So. Ah—where are Orym and Opal?”, he asks to distract himself from the feeling of having Dariax pressed so close to him.

“They’re checking to see if we’ll be safe for the night. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Fearne smiles down at him and starts scratching Little Mister under the chin as she hums a melody that Dorian’s never heard before.

“Did you ever have a really dumb crush?”, he asks before he can stop himself. Fearne turns her head to look at him again and cocks her head.

“A crush that was dumb because it wasn’t mutual or a crush that was dumb because the person was dumb?”, she wants to know.

“Ah. Huh—I haven’t thought about it that way. I guess… how about we go with both?”

Fearne puts her index fingers to her lips and cocks her head from side to side as she thinks about it.

“Well, I don’t think crushes are dumb just because they aren’t mutual. And I also think that Opal is very intelligent in her own, special way.”

Dorian blinks.

“Wait. What?”

“Hm?”

“You have a crush on Opal?”

“Sure. I thought it was pretty obvious”, Fearne says and smiles dreamily.

“Uh—maybe. Now that you mention it, I think Orym clocked it.”

“She is just. You know. Very exciting and spontaneous and funny and creative and pretty.”

The way that Fearne just talks about her crush makes Dorian wonder why he isn’t able to just say it like this. That he likes Dariax because he’s funny and brave and adventurous and a complete idiot in a lovable kind of way.

“What do you like about Dariax?”, Fearne wants to know.

“Uh—well”, he laughs nervously and clears his throat. Dariax is still softly snoring into his shoulder. “I guess… I guess pretty much everything?”

“That’s so sweet! And that’s what he said too. You guys just fit so well”, Fearne says with an earnest smile.

“Wait. What?”

“Hm?”

“What did you just say?”

“I said that you guys fit really well.”

“No. No, I meant before that.”

“Uh—well, when I asked him what he liked most about you, he also said that he likes everything about you. I thought it was really sweet, you know? There was a whole list of things, but he stopped midway through it and said ‘So basically, everything’.”

There was a whole list of things.

A list.

“So basically, everything.”

“Dorian? Are you really okay? You look a little flushed.”

“Hm? Oh—yeah. I’m fine. Perfect. Peachy. Never better.”

He laughs nervously and glances over at Dariax as his insides dissolve into small, hyperactive butterflies. Maybe it’s not what he thinks. Maybe Dariax meant that he likes everything about Dorian as a friend.

“If you’re sure you’re okay I think I’ll stretch my legs a little bit. This cart is pretty small”, Fearne says and scoots towards the exit of the cart. Little Mister follows behind her and a moment later Dorian is alone with a snoring Dariax, whose hand has somehow managed to sneak under Dorian’s shirt.

What is he supposed to do now?

Wake Dariax up? Confess his feelings?

His heart beats so quickly that Dorian is almost afraid that it might just leap out of his rib cage. In the end he’s not brave enough to wake Dariax up and instead intertwines their fingers and turns his head to look at Dariax who has definitely drooled onto his shirt.

He knows that he’s completely fucked because he thinks that this is endearing.

Dorian raises his arm and gently cards his hand through Dariax’ hair.

Dariax makes a small sound in his sleep, something that sounds like a content sigh, and the butterflies in Dorian’s stomach start dancing happily.

“D’you really think my eyes are pretty?”, Dariax mumbles a second later and Dorian pulls his hand away hastily as Dariax’ eyes open.

“Um—well. Yeah. They’re… they have a very nice color”, Dorian croaks. Dariax pulls his hand out from under Dorian’s shirt and starts rubbing at his eyes.

“You okay again?”

“Yeah. Thank you for saving me. And carrying me to the cart. And—uh. Tucking me in.”

Dariax’ cheeks redden as he coughs slightly before sitting up.

“Well, you know. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”, Dariax says with half a laugh in his voice that doesn’t sound completely genuine.

Dorian swallows and bites his bottom lip as he tries to find the words. He’s usually not bad at talking, so why does this seem so endlessly hard?

“So—uh. I have something to confess”, he starts as his thoughts start spinning around in panicked circles. Dariax turns his head to look down at him.

“I know, I know”, he answers.

“Huh?”

“Well, I figured, you know. When Orym dragged you away I thought you guys probably had a talk?”

“We did, yeah”, Dorian says but he is endlessly confused about what that has to do with anything.

“See, I knew it. So you think it finally started working, huh? Told you, I’m really good at this kind of stuff.”

Dorian decides that he has to sit up for this. His head is spinning and his heart is racing and he is endlessly confused about what in the ever-loving hell is going on.

“Working? What are you talking about?”

“You know, the jealousy thing.”

Dorian stares at him.

Then it finally clicks.

“Dariax… I don’t want to be fake boyfriends anymore”, he says quietly before he can think of a better way to say it. Dariax’ expression twists and he looks away, his hand reaching for the back of his head to scratch at his scalp—a sign for nervousness, as Dorian knows by now.

“Yeah. Okay. I—uh. That’s—“

“I want to be your real boyfriend.”

Dariax blinks a few times. Then his face turns the deepest shade of red that Dorian has ever seen on him.

“You—what?”

“I don’t like Orym. I never have. Not like that. I—uh. I like you. And when—if—I kiss you again I don’t want it to be just pretend, I want to really kiss you. Because I—uh. I really like kissing you.”

Dariax is still staring at him, seemingly stunned. The hand at the back of his head has stopped moving and started to sink slowly back into Dariax’ lap.

“So…”, Dorian says and the nervous energy humming under his skin is almost unbearable, “can I? Can I… kiss you? For real?”

If Dariax doesn’t say anything soon Dorian might have to flee from the cart and actually leave the country. The suspense is torturous, his words hang heavy in the air between them. And then, faster than Dorian can react, Dariax lounges himself at Dorian and kisses him so passionately that Dorian can’t suppress the moan that escapes him.

Dariax pushes at him, shoves Dorian back down onto the bedroll, sinks one hand into Dorian’s long hair and cups his face with the other.

Dorian’s brain goes blank as he arches up against Dariax’ weight on top of him.

“So, is that a yes?”, he pants into the kiss.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes”, Dariax rasps and kisses him again. “Gods, you’re so pretty. I thought I was going to go insane.”

Dorian makes a very embarrassing noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper. Maybe he likes those compliments more than a normal person would.

“So you like me?”

“Are you kidding me? So fucking much.”

Dariax is kissing his whole face now and Dorian wraps his arms around him. He feels light as a feather and the butterflies in his stomach have gone completely off the rails.

“Are you guys decent?”, Opal shouts from outside the cart.

“No! Go away! I want to make out with my boyfriend!”, Dariax shouts back and Dorian laughs.

“Don’t leave any icky spots though!”, Opal says.

“Oh, come on”, Dorian hears Orym protest.

“That’s what Prestidigitation is for, Opal! Read a book about magic!”, Dariax announces loudly and Dorian has no time to protest this obscene exchange because Dariax is kissing him again and Orym seems to be dragging Opal away from the cart.

“So do you know what that means?”, Dorian mumbles against Dariax’ lips.

“Hm?”

“I don’t need any flirting lessons from you after all.”

#critfic #exandria unlimited #exu #exu fic #dorian storm #dariax zaveon #fanfiction #mi writes #critical role #doriax #text #screeching into the void #this is 7k words of chaotic fake dating ooops

595 notes · View notes

quindolyn · 4 years ago

Note

Ma’am i am begging for a wolfstar blurb where Remus has a innocence kink and Sirius has a corruption kink

With love, my vagina

Dumb Bunny || Remus Lupin and Sirius Black

Word Count: 4,553

A/N: I hope you like this Bo, you’re my favorite and you know that. I also wrote like 90% of this in one sitting so I don’t know if it’s any good because you usually i take breaks and come back and look at what I’ve written but who knows. Love you so much my love.

Warnings: degradtion, praise, names like slut and dumb, blow job, oral virgin, dogg style, this is post Azkaban kinda

Masterlist

Kneeling at Remus’ feet staring up at the outline of his cock pressing up against his pants was daunting. You’d never actually given head before, had guys asked? Sure, but it had just never seemed worth the trouble, you’d never actually gotten a good look at any of their pricks because as soon as you’d nixed a blow job they were desperate to get inside of you.

Not that that had been all that great either, but you digress.

You watched with wide eyes as his nimble fingers moved to the button on his slacks, pulling it through the hole before unzipping his zipper which allowed his slacks to drop and pool at his ankles.

This left him in only his navy boxers which allowed you to get a much better look at the outline of his cock, you could almost see the ridges of the head as it was jostled around when he stepped out of his pants, kicking them to the side as he repositioned himself in front of you.

You sat there, unmoving as you stared down his cock, not quite sure what to do now.

“Come on Pup, don’t tell me that you’re so clueless that you don’t know what to do with a cock when its been laid out in front of you,” Sirius sniped from where he stood, leaning nonchalantly against the wall as his eyes raked over your figure, clad only in the pair of pale pink panties and matching bra that you had put on hours earlier. “Don’t tell me that you’re that useless.”

“M’not useless,” You grumbled, casting your eyes down in shame, “I just, I’ve never done this before.”

“Speak up there Pup,” Remus commanded gently, slipping two strong fingers under your jaw to tilt your head up so that you could meet his gaze, “Can’t hear you when you mumble, and s’not nice to not look at someone when you’re talking to them.”

“M’sorry sir,” You apologized, trying to keep your eyes on his and not on his ever growing bulge, still straining against the material of his boxers, “I was just saying that,” You gulped, casting a sidelong glance at Sirius before moving your eyes back to meet Remus’, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Never done what before?” Sirius asked from off to the side, his smirk evident in his voice as he moved to stand next to Remus, “Come on bunny, wanna hear you say it.”

You looked up at Remus with pleading eyes but it was clear he wasn’t going to call his dog off, “I’ve never given head before, I’ve never sucked…” You felt your face heat up as you trailed off at the implication of your words.

“Oh come on,” Sirius chuckled, kneeling next to you so that you were of equal height, “Don’t get shy on me now, you can say the word puppy, I know you can.”

You found yourself not mortified by his condescending matter but rather ridiculously turned on, you could already feel a knot begin to form in your belly.

Sirius kept his eyes trained on you expectantly until you finally relented, “Cock,” As the single word slipped from your mouth you felt embarrassment bloom in your belly which was silly really, it was only just a word.

“Come on now, all together,” The dark haired man grinned mischievously.

“I’ve never sucked cock,” You admitted bashfully, looking to Remus to measure his reaction. You were nervous, not only had you never sucked someone off before but both men were a decade older than you with more sexual experience. What if you weren’t good, or you couldn’t take them and triggered your gag reflex? With all of these thoughts swimming around in your head it was hard to form a coherent thought and that was purely from nervousness, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like when you had them inside of you.

He had to restrain himself from groaning, both at your words and the innocent look on your face as you gazed up at him, “You’ve had sex though right baby? We’re not gonna take your virginity are we?” He asked, because if he and his lover were about to be your first time it was going to have to be a whole lot more special than this.

You were quick to shake your head, “No, I’ve had sex, I’m not a virgin.”

“Well in this hole you are,” Sirius captured your jaw, turning it to face him. His thumb brushed against the seal of your lips in a nonverbal command for you to open them, which you did of course.

You watched with wide eyes as Sirius gathered spit in his mouth before he spat it into your mouth, the taste of him bleeding across the expanse of your tongue.

��Let me see Pup,” Sirius commanded as you stuck your tongue out, allowing him to see his spit on your tongue before he gave you your next direction, “Good girl, now swallow.”

Not as restrained a man as Remus he did groan watching your throat with an unguarded lust that had you shivering at the idea of what thoughts laid behind that gaze.

“Pads is right, you’re a very good girl,” Remus praised, directing your attention back towards him. Your mouth dropped open at the sight you were met with, Remus’ stiff cock standing proud and tall in front of your face with his hand wrapped around it.

“Am I going to suck your cock?” You asked, wide eyed and slightly concerned as you gazed up at Remus. Though his dick was prettier than you anticipated with its bright red, leaking tip, and the ridges caused by the veins that ran along the sides it was absolutely mouth watering, but the idea of fitting that in your mouth was nothing less than nerve wracking.

He let out a low chuckle, one of his strong hands moving to brush your hair out of your face, his eyes trained on your lips, “No, not yet baby. Gonna wrap those pretty lips around Sirius he’s a little bit smaller, it’ll make it easier for you.”

You heard Sirius grumble in discontent at the comment as he pushed himself up to undo the buckle of his belt, shedding both his trousers and boxers with far less dignity than his counterpart. Though yes, he was a bit smaller, it didn’t appear to be a significant difference and did little to soothe your woes about your potential performance.

“Don’t worry Poppet, m’gonna teach you how to suck his dick. It's not hard I promise,” The tall man knelt beside you, his hand still on his prick as he smeared a kiss along your temple. You allowed your eyes to close at the contact, leaning into the touch as Remus guided one of your hands to his cock. It practically jumped into your grasp as oppositely charged magnets would attract each other.

Though you’d given a hand job before Remus’ much larger, scarred hand found its way to encase your’s, guiding you through the motions of pumping up and down the shaft.

“How about me?” Sirius sounded petulant, like a child, but there was absolutely nothing child like about the way his dick rested heavily in the palm of his hand, he wasn’t as long as Remus but what he lacked in length he made up for in girth. The head of his member was more purple than red, though it leaked just as ferociously with the beginning drops of precum.

“He’s right Puppy,” Remus told you, pulling his lips away from your temple so that you would be forced to support the weight of your head on your own and meet his eyesight, “Gonna teach you how to give a blow job, okay?”

You nodded your head, “Yes, Sir.”

Impatience radiated off of the man who stood before you, the head of his cock staring you down, before you could talk yourself out of action you reached out and took the shaft in your hand, getting used to how it sat heftily in your hand.

“You’re gonna want to spit in your hand first Pup, it’ll make it easier,” Remus suggested, his length still secure in his own hand. You followed your instructions, switching Sirius’ member to your nondominant hand while you spat into the other one before resuming your previous hold.

Gazing up at him as you worked your hand up and down the length of his shaft you noticed the way his eyes were entirely consumed by lust, shining grey irises now black, blending in with his pupils.

“Use your thumb to smear the precum baby, like that,” Remus continued to coach you, watching as you ran your thumb over the sensitive head of Sirius’ member and how he jolted at the motion, “See he likes it.”

“Do you? Do you like it, Daddy?” You peered up at him through your eyelashes, cocking your head to the side without ever relenting the movement of your hand, “Am I doing a good job?”

Remus groaned from beside you, his gaze having left the dick in your hand, now landing on your face. Sirius simply smirked, dark curtains of hair framing his visage, the mere sight of him looming above you was enough to make you embarrassingly turned on, feeling pleasure begin to simmer in your belly you could only imagine how it would feel when you had him in your mouth.

“You’re doing a very good job Puppy,” It was Remus who spoke this time, “But it looks like Pads might be a little desperate to get his cock in your mouth, you think you’re ready?”

“I think so,” You nodded.

That was all Sirius needed before he was releasing his member from your hold, gripping his hand around it pumping it once, then twice before bringing the head to rest on your bottom lip. Tracing the seal of your lips with the weeping head of his prick he spoke, “Come on Puppy, wanna be the first cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“You heard him (Y/N), open your mouth, time to take his cock.” Remus said from beside you.

“B-But I’ve never done this before, how am I supposed to know what to do?”

Getting more and more frustrated with the fact his prick still wasn’t in your mouth Sirius began shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be alright,” The werewolf soothed you, running his fingers through your tresses, “Gonna help you.”

Glancing over at Remus for one last confirmation you didn’t realize what Sirius was doing until it was too late and his member was making contact with your cheek as he slapped it against the side of your face, streaking precum across your skin, “Hurry up slut.”

You whimpered at the degradation of both his words and his action as you felt a pang of pleasure zip through your body, shivering at the filthiness of it. You shifted in your spot, trying to rub your thighs together to soothe some of the ache that resided there and that wasn’t showing any indication of relenting but neither of the older men were having it.

“Stop that,” Sirius growled, capturing your jaw in his hand, pushing your cheeks together so that your lips were forced open, “Not about you right now, you’re supposed to be getting me off,” With that, having lost all patience he pushed the head of his cock into your mouth, releasing a strangled groan as he stopped himself from pushing in deeper.

Remus let out a small chuckle shifting so that he was closer to you, “There you go Poppet, just start with the head. You wanna be sure to keep your teeth tucked away so that you don’t hurt him,” Leaning in closer towards your ear he added something else in a low whisper, “We can do that later, yeah?”

You let out a small giggle, which because it was muffled by the cock sitting inside of your mouth sent vibrations of pleasure through Sirius, starting at the head of his member and working their way up the shaft. Unable to control himself he bucked into your mouth, not considerably deep but deep enough to jar you.

“Careful Si,” Remus scolded gently, one of his hands going to grip Sirius’ bare thigh as a reminder not to rush. Looking at you he saw the tears brimming in your eyes at the sudden and unexpected motion, “Puppy,” He cooed, caressing the side of your face with his knuckles, “Gotta breathe through your nose, do you know how to do that baby?”

Shaking your head gently you were careful to keep your teeth tucked away behind your lips while still signaling that you had no clue what you were doing.

“Are you choking on my cock?” Sirius mocked you, the concerned tone of voice so sickly sweet it was nauseating, “Not even doing anything with it, just sitting there in your mouth and you can’t even take it,” He thrusted up gently into your mouth, just enough for the head of his cock to brush up against the roof of your mouth as cause you to gag around his length.

“Be nice Sirius,” Remus seethed through gritted teeth, glaring up at him while he pet your hair, grounding you as you focused on inhaling and exhaling through your nostrils. Concentrating on that helped you to calm your gag reflex, no longer having a problem with how his member was positioned in your mouth.

“Daddy can be mean can’t he?” Remus directed his attention towards you, his tone was so falsely sympathetic that it worsened the need bubbling up inside of you as the pleasure in your stomach continued to simmer.

You stopped yourself from nodding again, this time letting out an affirmative hum which pleased Remus as he watched Sirius’ hips stutter as he refrained from forcing his length all the way down your throat.

“You can suck harder bunny, it’ll feel good and he’ll tell you if something hurts or doesn’t feel good, gotta trust him to do that.”

Taking his advice you sucked more harshly at the member inside of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head while looking up at him to gauge his reaction, he was still looking down at you, unblinking as though if he lost sight of you for even a moment the pleasure would stop.

Remus slid his body behind yours so that your back was pressed to his chest with his cock achingly pressing into your bareback, smearing precum along your skin.

“Gotta hollow your cheeks Pup, like this,” His fingers found their way to either side of your face, pressing gently on your cheeks until he could feel the cock inside of your mouth. “It’ll feel good for him, make it tighter like it would be if he was fucking your cunt.”

One hand quickly abandoned your face, sliding its way down your stomach until his fingers were brushing the top of your lacy panties before slipping just his fingertips beneath the material. He simply cupped your pussy possessively, not working his fingers between your folds or into your hole, but just resting there, clutching you.

“Fuck Moons,” Sirius gritted, “She’s a fucking natural, hollowing her cheeks so prettily for me it’s like fucking her actual cunt.”

You whined at his words, squirming once again trying to relieve the ache burning between your thighs, the way he spoke to Remus, to Sir, like you weren’t even there. It was deliciously objectifying, degrading, and you loved it.

Remus smiled into your neck as he moved to nip at your ear, the contact subtle, but still enough to have you shivering as pleasure tickled at your nerves which felt frayed and exposed, with every motion, every exhale against your skin it was like on fire had been set to each of them individually.

“Gonna make him feel even better now poppet, bob your head up and down and you’re gonna take your hand,” He took one of your hands, which had been resting on your thigh, and guided it to the base of Sirius’ member, “Just move it a little bit, on what you’re not able to fit into your mouth, don’t wanna neglect it.”

Following his instructions you worked the exposed length of him in your hand as you bobbed your head up and down the rest, taking about half of his cock into the velvety warmth of your mouth. Running the brunt of your tongue along his shaft you acted upon the courage you felt surge through you, using the hand not at the base of his cock to grapple at his balls.

You were more than pleased with the strangled moan that fell from Sirius’ lips, you’d gotten groans out of him earlier but not a moan. Remus noted this as well, his mouth still pressed against your ear, “Look at that, he’s so pretty with his head thrown back like that, moaning, and all because of your mouth.”

One of his fingers found your bottom lip which was dripping with saliva, and he ran the pad of his finger along the cushion of your lip, pressing gently.

“How’s it feel, Pads?” Remus looked up at the other man.

“She was born to suck cock,” He exhaled sharply as you took him deeper in your mouth, making a point to continue to hollow your cheeks.

The hand cupping your sex slid a finger between your folds, collecting your wetness on a singular digit causing you to jump at the contact before you rolled your hips towards his hand nonverbally begging for more.

Moving his lips to suck dark purple hues into the delicate flesh of your neck Remus spoke into your skin, “Once you make Daddy cum then it's your turn Bunny, don’t be greedy, you gotta give before you get.”

Taking his words at face value you became even more determined to make Daddy cum, knowing that not only would it be a personal feat, your first blow job, but that when it was done you would be getting so much more.

Breathing in sharply through your nose you willed your gag reflex not to act up as you pushed your head down on his cock, taking in as much of Sirius as you could which you were pleased to see that it was a majority of his length inside of your mouth by the time you hit your limit.

You sucked more harshly at his member, swirling your tongue around what you could before Remus rose from where he had rested behind you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before moving to stand next to Sirius. You whimpered when his fingers slipped from your cunt but were intrigued as you watched through your lashes. Observing as Remus’ hands slipped under the smaller man’s shirt, palms running up and down the toned planes of his stomach as he meshed his lips with the other man’s.

You were unsure but you thought that you heard a command for Sirius to rid himself of his shirt as he quickly undid the buttons, letting the dress shirt fall to the floor with Remus’ quickly following suit.

Watching the two men make out with each other, Remus’ hands nestling themselves in Sirius’ long hair and Sirius’ gripping at Remmy’s bare ass, spurred you on in your efforts to make him cum.

Adjusting Siri’s length so that it sat comfortably in your throat and that so you could feel where it bulged against your throat before you swallowed around his length.

If the feeling of his load being shot down your throat wasn’t indication enough that your little trick had done the job then the sharp, “Fuck” the man released from above you certainly was.

You swallowed his cum just as you had his spit before easing yourself off of his length, taking extra care to keep your teeth from his sensitive cock. Looking up at him with wide eyes you watched him lay his head on Remus’ chest as marks similar to the ones left on your neck were left on his, and though yours were beginning to feel a bit tender you knew that Sirius was loving his as much as you were loving yours.

“Did I do a good job Daddy?” You looked up at him owlishly, cocking your head to the side.

“Fuck Moons if you don’t fuck her I will,” Was all you got in response as Remus chuckled into the newly bruised skin of his lover pulling away to assess you.

He frowned looking at you as he noticed that you were still in your underwear, “Up,” He ordered, once you were on your feet he was in front of you in a single stride, strong, scarred arms were extending around your torso to undo the clasp of your bra, pulling the straps off of your shoulders allowing the garment to fall to the floor before kneeling in front of you to tug your panties down which you then stepped out of.

“On the bed,” He ordered simply, your panties hanging from the crook of his finger as he moved to deposit them in the pocket of his blazer, cock bobbing in the air as he moved about the room.

Positioning yourself on the bed, on your hands and knees you caught a glimpse of Sirius lounging on an armchair in the room, cock resting against his thigh as he recovered from his first orgasm of the night. He shot you a lazy smile before raking his eyes along your form, studying each ripple and ridge hungrily.

On your hands and knees, you felt uncomfortably vulnerable but you knew it was all worth it when you felt Remus settle in behind you, his hands moving to grip your hips and pull you back towards his pelvis.

You pushed your bum back towards Remus as you felt the head of his cock run through your soaking folds, you were almost embarrassed by how wet sucking Sirius off had made you but you couldn’t quite summon the energy.

“Don’t rush bunny, I got you, I promise,” With one hand guiding his cock and the other anchoring you to him he pushed just the head of his member inside of you. You clenched around him, trying to suck more of his length up into you because though you technically had him you needed more.

Not feeling particularly patient himself Remus wasted no time before pushing the entirety of his length inside of you, growling as your cunt pulsed around him.

“Sir!” You moaned feeling yourself stretch around him, having never taken his cock before you weren’t ready for the way that he stretched you so wide it was bordering on painful just barely avoiding tipping over the edge.

Allowing you a moment to adjust to his length he pulled out of you until his member barely rested inside of you before thrusting himself all the way back in. A hand running down your back signaled for you to arch your back for him which of course you did.

His pace was fast but deep, the depth of his strokes consistent as he reached depths inside of you you hadn’t even known existed before. Pistoning his hips in and out of you the rhythmic sound of skin slapping up against skin filled the room and you could feel his balls slapping up against your clit which each and every thrust.

“Pretty bunny,” Remus’ low voice sounded through the room, accompanied by the sounds of your skin against each other as he leaned back to watch his member disappear in you before pulling back out, “Such a pretty bunny for me, so sweet and innocent aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” You responded, allowing your head to drop and hang as you fell onto your elbows rather than your hands.

Sirius tutted as he rose from his seat in the corner, his beautifully tattooed body still glistening with sweat as he began pumping his cock while walking towards you, “Please, she’s not a pretty bunny, she’s a little cum slut. Dumb little bunny.”

You whined out at his degradation, your eyes squeezed shut as a wave of pleasure coursed through you causing you to let out a ragged breath.

“See, she likes it, dumb bunny.” Though you couldn’t see him you were sure that he was grinning wickedly down at you.

“No m’not! I’m a pretty bunny,” You insisted, though your message was a bit undercut as you slurred your words.

“That’s right, pretty bunny,” Remus cooed, groping the globes of your ass in his hands, squeezing the flesh before pulling away to observe the handprints he left on your skin, if only for a moment.

“She wants to be, but she’s not, she’s just a cock hungry slut.” Sirius countered and you looked up at him with pleading eyes, desperately seeking his approval but all you got was a sneer as he pumped his cock next to your face.

“Not nice, Sir says you’re mean,” You whined as Remus continued to thrust in and out of you, rather enjoying watching the interaction between his two lovers.

“Oh is that right? Well, I don’t fucking care if I’m mean, you’re a dumb fuck bunny and if telling you that is mean then oh well,” He grasped your jaw in between his hand, forcing your head up at an uncomfortable angle to make eye contact with you, “Guess I’m mean.”

The whine you released at that was perhaps the most pathetic of the night, you felt pathetic at the gush of wetness you felt at his words, the pleasure in your belly progressing from a simmer to a boil as Remus’ hand reached around to find your clit, pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves between his thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t listen to him,” The man buried deep inside of your cunt told you, “You’re my pretty bunny, keep on being my pretty bunny, prove Daddy wrong.”

It was all too much, the contrast between Remus’ praising words and Sirius’ harsh ones, the sight of Sirius’ tattooed hand working up and down his shaft, Remus’ pace in and out of you and his hand on your clit.

It was just all too much.

You could barely see straight as the pleasure boiling in your belly overflowed, like hot lava flowing you felt pleasure flow through your veins as you climaxed. Your orgasm left you feeling warm in every nook and cranny as your eyes rolled back into your head. It felt like you were underwater as your thoughts swam around you, mingling with the noises in the room around you.

Your head was still heavy as you opened your eyes which you hadn’t realized you’d squeezed shut, you jolted forward as Remus continued moving in and out of your pussy, trying to get away from his cock. Your orgasm had been electrifying leaving you sensitive but Remus didn’t seem to be relenting.

“Don’t recall telling you you could cum Poppet,” Remus said from behind you, and that’s when you realized why he wasn’t stopping, “Maybe Daddy was right, maybe you are just a dumb bunny.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #Sirius black #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #Sirius black smut #Remus lupin #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #Remus lupin smut #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x reader smut #marauders smut

2K notes · View notes