#like late at night when everyone else in my family is asleep/upstairs
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Look What You Made Me Do --- C.S. feat. T.H.
In which, Taylor takes things a bit too far in Chris's body.
Trigger warnings: mentions of death, violence, blood/gore mentions
Divider cred: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Chris groaned as he looked up the steps. His back was screaming in pain like hell. "Fuck it. I guess I'll sleep on the couch." He mumbled. He slowly made his way to the couch and laid down. He groaned again, this time in relief. As he went to close his eyes, a silhouette of a long-haired male stood before him.
"Fuck off, Taylor. I'd like to sleep tonight. And you just know that that thing will come after you if it sees you prowling around. Do you really want me to get maimed?" he asked, attempting to reason with the ghost.
Gradually, the silhouette materialized into a real person (minus the fact that he was still a ghost). Taylor whined, "C'mon, you know I don't care about it! That thing thinks it killed me. It's not gonna care. You don't annoy the shit out of him. I do,"
"My point exactly! What if it finds a way to expose us?"
"It'd have to expose itself, too; you know Dave's doing his best to keep it from the presses and his family. Besides, he doesn't remember shit when he comes to."
"Well, you're not possessing me, and that's final! Good night, Taylor!" With that, Chris slammed his head down on the pillow and closed his pretty little eyes. He started to snore, a clear indicator that he was asleep. Taylor floated to the kitchen to make sure that Pat wasn't awake. Nope. Everyone else was upstairs, so the coast was clear.
He knew Chris would be pissed in the morning, but he didn't give a rat's ass. He floated back to the couch and into the brunette's mouth. When he opened his eyes, they were brown instead of bright blue. "Fuck yeah!" he whispered, getting up off the couch.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Dave had been sleeping obliviously until the demon opened up its glassy eyes. It sniffed the air, sensing something was amiss. Someone was up. While he was trying to sleep. As far as he was concerned, Dave's body needed rest, and the person wasn't causing any ruckus. He grunted before closing his eyes again. However, he did not surrender control to his original host, just as a precaution.
Taylor grinned, happy to explore. He was making Chris levitate a few inches off the ground as he opened the screen door to the patio. "Freedom!" he cried, smiling from ear to ear. He laughed as he made his hands light up with fire. "Woo hoo!" he yelled, taking flight into the night sky.
He sighed contentedly, feeling the wind in his hair. "This is great...I wanna do it every night, man!" he exclaimed. The demon woke back up, sniffing the air. It trudged into the halls and stood still. It listened to the night and heard cries of joy. Loud cries of joy. Annoyingly loud cries of joy. It growled, hating the fact that a mortal was having fun at two in the morning, disturbing its slumber. How dare they.
It cracked its knuckles, storming outside. Each of its footsteps created loud THUDs as it made its way to the patio. There was a smell. The smell it knew too well: fire. But the grill was off. The fireplace was lifeless. So what was the source? It looked up at the sky, seeing only 'Chris', which was confusing.
As far as it knew, Chris was seldom a night owl, often complaining about how much sleep he did or didn't get. But lately, he'd been complaining about hearing things...seeing things --- that made him lose sleep. Then it clicked. This mortal must've had an alter ego or some shit, because this wasn't normal. And boy, was this demon used to irregularities --- though not to this degree.
It did the only thing it knew how: it used its surroundings to attack. Taylor was on his back, flying comfortably in the air, when a chair was chucked at him. "HOLY FUCK!" he swore a bit loudly, dodging just in time. When he looked down, he saw Dave....fucking laughing?? But the mouth that housed coffee-stained teeth and the faint smell of cigarettes was replaced by slightly yellowed fangs of terror.
"Fuckin' shit!" he cursed, landing down on the ground. "The fuck you want with me, asshole?" To this thing, that was Chris --- he had no idea who it really was. "BED. NOW." it growled out, clearly pissed. "And why should I listen to you? You don't scare me!" Taylor challenged.
Usually, people listened to everything Dave said. So why wasn't this mortal doing the same? It was unbelievable. The sheer nerve of this guy! "BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T....YOU GET FUCKING GUTTED." It grinned maliciously, folding its hands together. If there was one thing Hawkins knew best, it was to stand your ground. "Oh, okay. Sounds like fun. Why don't you try me, then?"
What happened next was a mystery. Somehow, he'd blacked out. Although he'd been blessed with pyrokinesis and super speed, he wasn't blessed with timing things quite right...or predicting other spirits' moves. He groaned, opening his eyes. It was broad daylight, despite the feeling that it seemed like it had been nighttime moments ago.
He winced and clenched his teeth in pain as he attempted to get up. Why couldn't he? He craned his neck to see what was bothering him so much. Giant gashes in the form of claw marks streaked across the back of his left leg. "Fuck!" That was only the beginning. His shirt was tattered, reduced to being on the verge of shredding completely. More claw marks were on his chest, though they weren't as deep as the ones on his leg. And his right arm...this thing seriously bit him??
"Fucking asshole!!" he yelled, attempting to get up again. He failed, only just then realizing where he was: the driveway, near the gate. He shakily grabbed Chris's phone from his pocket, deciding to call Nate.
"Hello?" Nate mumbled, still sleepy. Taylor cleared his throat, trying to sound as close to Chris as possible, "Hey, Nate, um...I'm in the driveway and I'm kinda hurt. Could you come like...pick me up? I can't even walk, man. It's serious." A pause. "Hello?" No response. Instead, the front door practically flew open as Nate rushed out. "OH JESUS CHRIST!" he yelled, turning to everyone else. "HE'S HURT...BAD! I NEED SOME HELP!!"
Chris cried out as the alcohol was poured onto his arm wound. "Sorry." Pat apologized softly. "It will hurt, but that means it's working." He tried offering a comforting smile, though it was tinged with fear. Taylor, who'd surrendered control to the older man minutes before, reappeared.
"Who would do such a thing?" Pat thought aloud. "Why would they do this to you, Shifty?" He seemed genuinely heartbroken. It killed the spirit to see his friend in such a state. He realized how wrong it was for him to go out like that regardless of warnings.
"This demon did it. I just know it." Nate said, crossing his arms. "He's an asshole! Chris was probably just trying to sleep! Can it give us a break??" At that moment, Dave trudged down the stairs, half-awake. He grunted as some sort of greeting, unaware of the previous events; he was oblivious to the hate-filled glares of his peers.
As he poured himself coffee, Taylor watched with disdain. His host was brutally injured, nearly mauled by the frontman he thought he could trust. Chris gritted his teeth when more alcohol was applied to a different wound. He involuntarily shed a tear. The emotional and physical pains were getting to him.
"I hope you're happy, Dave! Thanks to you, we're down a man! And to think, just when we thought you had this under control! You nearly killed Chris! What's Josh gonna think when he sees this, mm?? He's gonna freak the fuck out and leave. You want that? I don't!" Nate snapped.
Dave looked up with a half-lidded stare, scoffing. "C'mon, he didn't lose a fucking limb! He's fine!" he shot back. "And why should I care about everyone else's opinions??" He kept going on and on, but Taylor tuned him out. Dave was being negligent to his friends' feelings and Chris's conditions.
His eyes blazed with rage, turning completely white. He balled his hands into fists, wishing he could punch Dave in the face right here and now. But he couldn't. He'd give himself away if he possessed his host now. Then a nasty idea popped up in his head.
The frontman needed a taste of his own medicine. But how? When? He knew --- he'd scratch him up, beat his ass to a bloody pulp...just like he did to him! To Shifty! Just to teach him a lesson. "Don't fuck with Taylor fucking Hawkins, bitch." He said before disappearing.
Chris cried in agony from not only the pain, but also from the betrayal. As the tears rolled down his face, he wished for revenge. Inside his head was the blonde, who whispered his idea. A sad smile poked at the corners of his face as he nodded. 'Sounds like a plan, buddy! I'm in!'
Later that night, Hawkins possessed his body. Granted, he didn't have all of his strength but had some. Some was better than none. He glided down the hall with an eerily delicate grace to Dave's room. He threw the door open, growling softly in frustration. '"Chris?? What the hell, dude?? I'm trying to sleep!!" The frontman whined.
"Listen here, pretty princess, I don't appreciate what you and Spooky did to me. You're gonna pay the fucking price!"
"W-what do you mean --- 'what I did to you'? And what do you mean by paying the p-price? Chris, what is going on with you??" Dave was backing away in fear, eventually booking it out of there. "Somebody fuckin help me!!" he yelled, turning the corners sharply as he ran. Taylor followed him, setting his own entire body ablaze.
Dave's screams echoed in the night, as he begged and pleaded for 'Chris' to stop. Suddenly, silence. Dave looked behind him, relieved that he lost his pursuer. But when he faced forward, the terrifying male hovered before him. "What're you doing, Chris? Why? Why??" he screamed.
"You nearly fucking mauled me to death, and you don't care!!" Taylor hissed, "You don't have this stupid thing under control! You're a selfish bastard, and I'm sick of it!" Despite Taylor being in control, Chris's voice was slipping through. "We can negotiate, man! C'mon, we've known eachih other for...gosh --- a good twenty years or so! We both have families, you get it! I'll let you take over lead guitar for a bit ---!" Dave began to offer, being cut off by a blast of fire aimed at him.
"SHUT UP!" Taylor snarled, steadily getting angrier and angrier. He didn't know why he was so angry all of a sudden. Things like this only mildly frustrated him. But his rage combined with Chris's and amplified itself into an uncontrollable force. His eyes went from white to brown on one side and blue on the other. He threw his friend into the table on the patio, his body weight causing the glass to shatter.
Dave groaned in pain, attempting to sit up. "Don't!" he tried to say, having to scramble to get up on his feet. He narrowly dodged the fireball thrown at him. Taylor briefly glitched through, his body replacing Christopher's. "TAYLOR??? THE FUCK??" The brunet screeched.
He picked up a larger shard of glass and tackled the frontman to the ground. Dave bravely fought back the best he could, but...even so, he couldn't prevent the deadly makeshift blade entering his chest. He sobbed as he got cut up and stabbed, tortured and tormented.
"What happened to the old Taylor? Why are you doing this??"
"I'm sorry, the old Taylor can't answer that right now,"
"Why?"
"Cuz he's dead!" He grinned, laughing afterwards. He picked up Dave one last time, taking him inside. "Eat shit." He wrapped his arms around his bloodied torso and lit himself ablaze again. "GAAAAAAHHHH!!!" Dave screamed as his skin burned. "How does it feel, huh?? To get fried alive?" The body switched back to Chris's as he spoke. He leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "What's worse is, nobody will ever believe you."
This was the end for sure. "T, I thought...I thought we had something, man.." Dave rasped, closing his eyes. He'd passed out from so much smoke and blood loss. As if someone had snapped their fingers, Taylor came down from his trance and surrendered control again.
A stampede practically flooded the halls as the rest of the band worriedly rushed downstairs. Chris was holding the unconscious frontman in his arms, eyes back to normal. He went pale, blood running cold. "No...no, no, NOOOO!!!" he wailed, tears practically flooding from his eyes. "Oh what have I done?? I just wanted to punch him or something...what the fuck did we do??"
Everyone stood there, the same shocked look of horror on their faces. "We need an ambulance now! Oh God, Dave, don't die! Don't die!" Chris sobbed, holding him close.
As the paramedics wheeled him in, Dave opened his eyelids. They were replaced with the black glassy look from the demon. It smiled devilishly, beginning to cut itself free from the restraints with its claws. Once it was newly patched up, it yanked the IV tubes from its arms and stood tall. "SO THAT'S THE GAME WE WANNA PLAY, EH HAWKINS?? BRING IT ON." It laughed as it stole its clothes back, slipped out the window, and floated to the ground. With that, it ran. The nurse panicked and frantically called for security to capture him.
"Come back here!" One of them yelled, in hot pursuit. "HA HA! YOU CAN'T CATCH ME, BECAUSE..." it stopped long enough to finish its sentence. "...I'M DAVE GROHL, MOTHERFUCKERS!" With a few short claps, he was gone. Vanished into thin air. It sighed in contempt when it arrived 'home.' "AND NOW, TO INVITE HIM BACK FOR MORE." It made sure to use some fresh blood from an innocent passerby, and began painting the wall with its fingers. When it was done, it signed it with a bloody handprint. It walked off to dispose of the body, laughing to itself.
Pat stood there in front of the living room wall, awestruck. He shakily walked up the stairs and knocked on Chris's door. When it opened to reveal the sleep-deprived man, Pat grabbed him by the shoulders. "There's a message for you in the living room, Shifty." he whimpered out.
Intrigued, Chris went to investigate. He gasped, mouth agape. "Taylor, the fuck have you gotten us into??" he asked. The specter appeared, just as surprised. "I dunno...but we'd better do something about it before it spirals outta control." he suggested.
They took the time to decipher it and take in the message. It read, in blood: YOUR MOVE, SHIFTY. DON'T BE A PUSSY. Both of them shuddered in fear, backing away. "We are fucking fucked." They said simultaneously. They pissed the demon off again, and were going to have to face off against it...again. Little did they know, their body had big, big plans and a big, big surprise in store. A large splotch of black appeared on Chris's mid-back area, but he was oblivious.
What mattered now was finding a way out of this...alive.
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The Trafficking Dream
I don't even know where to start for this one, it is super dark and things are already a little fuzzy and very confusing personally.
It started with me and my family and some friends, I think I must have been still a teenager or something, it would make sense with my mental capacity and attitude too, I'm guessing 16 or 17. We were all in this large, modern, slightly christmassy family home, strangely in the exact spot my actual childhood home sat, like the same street and everything. I had friends around, maybe a few cousins too, and we were all sheltering in place because it was snowing, there was a potential storm on the way, it was dark out, so we all gathered to watch some movies.
We were watching scary movies and I kept on seeing things out of the corner of my eye, or a dark figure outside, and everyone laughed and told me I was nuts and that it was just the movie scaring me. Eventually it was late and we all started to get some sleep, all bundled together in this huge living room.
The next morning there was this horrible moment when a girl was missing, one of our friends, let’s call her Jessie, all of her stuff was still here, but there was no sign of her. We reported it to the police but they were extremely unhelpful, saying it wasnt soon enough blah blah blah, and that we were all okay so it probably wasn't anything malicious and she had probably run away and would be back.
This turned us all away in upset, we knew she wasn't like that, and she never came back, was never found. She just became another missing person on a poster who people forgot about. It was horrible, especially when we'd see her mom.
Anyway, weeks pass and we are all gathered once more at my house, some didn't come because they were scared, but my cousins did. We stuck together all night, and no more scary movies. It was in bad taste, instead it was sort of like a vigil, we lit some candles, watched her favourites, and this time made sure every door was locked, my dad was asleep upstairs, etc. Yet again, I kept on seeing things out of the corner of my eye, at one point I could have sworn I saw a pair of eyes looking back at me from outside.
At one point, and this really shook me up, we were already on the verge of calling the police again, but I genuinely saw a hand in the shadows come from like nowhere (mostly because there was nowhere to go, it was just a few boxes back there, it didn’t seem physically possible) and in the hand, a syringe, and before my brain even realised what I saw, it was stabbed into the back of my cousins neck. Luckily I was around and saw it, and being a stupid teenager I didn't scream for help, or anything sensible, in a panic I ran forward, pushing my cousin to the ground and jumped up on the boxes, looking behind it, trying to figure out where the hand had come from. Again, nothing. Though I was terrified and had now seen that it definitely wasn't just a runaway thing, though it didn’t seem logical.
Anyway we scream for my dad, keeping an eye out, I grabbed some scissors and gathered everyone closer, I grabbed my cousin and pulled her into my lap, and dad called an ambulance and checked on everyone else and checked all the doors and even armed himself. It was terrifying.
When everyone was home safe, the police checked out the house, and we got my cousin to the hospital, it was discovered that she was injected with something, it was a strong paralytic laced with some other drugs - unlike anything they'd ever seen before. The police were now interested and questioned everyone including me but every time I tried to say that no one was there, that they must have been way too fast or something, they thought I was crazy. I wasn't though, and I was kinda a dumb teenager, so I was determined to prove that someone had been there, took my friend and injected my cousin, and like a stupid arrogant teenager I took it into my own hands.
I went back to the house, my Dad eventually found out and was also on his way there furious at me for endangering myself, but I thought I was smart enough to avoid it (because I was a girl and girls are taught to be careful from an early age for this crap, and also, I was armed with a kitchen knife, in that “I am an untouchable teenager” kinda way) and I was searching the house for any evidence left behind, maybe the syringe, maybe a foot print. Something, looking back, I should have left to the cops, even if they were useless.
This was obviously a mistake on my part, being so stupid, because I began to get a little scared myself, hearing things, seeing shadows again, but this time I wasn't going to wave it off as fear, I kinda shut myself in this big living room, knife up and brandished, turning around this way and that, checking every door until my dad got there. It wouldn't be fast enough though. The lights went out and I was met with these eyes, a silhouette in the shadow, it was so haunting it didn't feel real but I knew it was now and couldn't take the chance, I stuck the knife out and started yelling, firing questions that demanded answers, saying I had him now and all this ridiculous bravado.
That was when he took a step towards me, and down in his hand, another syringe. I kept my knife up but I was terrified. I tried to threaten him if he got any closer, but he didn't seem to care. He looked scruffy (like a real-life version of Guy from the Croods) and was in all black clothes, even gloves, and he took another step toward me with terrifying confidence. I (being a stupid teenager) started swinging this way and that, thinking if the knife is moving so fast all over the place there is no way he could get close. I was a fool.
He waited for a good moment and slipped in, free hand grabbing my wrist and as much as I screamed and writhed and tried to free my hand and slice at him, he took the syringe and planted it into my forearm, which I tried to shake loose as I watched the weird murky white liquid be injected into me.
My body started failing me almost immediately, joints going limp, my hand dropped the knife even, and my knees buckled as I began to fall to the floor, but this guy, he caught me, lowering me down as I was silently panicking, terrified, but unable to move or speak or scream for help. My dad's car pulled into the driveway but no matter how much I tried to scream there was nothing, and I was dragged outside, semi-conscious, in the freezing snow, until I blacked out, thinking this is it, I'm done, I'm dead. And it's all my fault for being stupid.
But I wasn't, not yet, I awoke, my body still extremely weak and pliable, and I was tied down on this table, like face down, it was like an old massage table, with the face hole. These are the moments part of me wished I was dead. I heard footsteps and saw two shoes approach, assuming it was the scruffy guy. I was then tortured, I won’t go into detail. It was awful, and lasted so long that I had time to think, because I couldn't speak, couldn't scream. I thought about how I wanted my dad. I thought about how this is what my friend must have gone through too, but at least I saved my cousin from it.
It was awful but I was still alive when they stopped, seeing the shoes disappear again and a clatter as a bloody blade met the ground. I should have known that even in these horrible horrible circumstances, I should not have wished I was dead, ever. Because another pair of shoes approached me, tender quiet steps, no blood on the shoes, different gait, it was a different person. I felt their hands on me, my body was in agony, but their touch was far more gentle, I had no idea what was going on. The hands went to either side of my face and lifted it up so I could see, it was scruffy guy (which meant whoever was torturing me was somebody else) and he looked into my eyes and in his, my own agony was mirrored. He held my face tenderly and whispered he was sorry, he was really sorry, over and over again. He said he was a monster too, but they made him, not that it made it all okay, but he was still so sorry and he was gonna help me. Obviously I perked up a bit at this, still terrified and disgusted, maybe his conscience would get me out of here, go get help or something - but I was mistaken, he was still too scared of the consequences, still had something being held over his head. When he said he would help me, I never could have guessed that he meant he would put me out of my misery. He held my head in his lap, and he ended my life, he killed me, and god did it hurt but I couldnt struggle, and death was far less painful than all I had been through in the past hours of torture. I died, freezing cold, powerless, tears falling down my cheeks and staining his jeans.
This, however, is not where my story ended.
I'm not sure when this dream started to incorporate the supernatural, but I stayed around, call it unfinished business or what have you, but I was there. I was a ghost or whatever you want to call it.
It started as really difficult to control, I had no idea what happened to my body, but this began a whole intense grieving breakdown. Tears, wailing, banging on walls, crying about how I had wanted to do so many things with my life, how I wanted to hug my dad, or my stuffed animals one more time, how I had never thought that realistically my time would be up at 17, it was awful, horrible and far beyond sadness.
Somewhere in the midst of all this pain and anguish, I sort of realised (but didn't yet really care) that my stronger emotions sort of felt weird and fuzzy, and I could actually interact with the world, bang on the walls with my fists, kick a door so hard it banged against the wall in its swing. It was like I was flickering in and out of existence as a ghost in the plane of the real world.
I realised this was assisted in feeling my most strong and extreme of emotions, my rage, my upset, and I thought of its uses in practice. Maybe I could go back home and see my dad, maybe I could prevent it happening to anyone else, maybe I could get revenge for my death. So I broke out of whatever dingy little room I was in, it was some warehouse on some industrial estate I didn’t recognise. It didn't click in my teenage brain who was still coming to grips with an afterlife, but that room... was where they had stuffed my body along with any others.
I got outside and it was strange that I still felt the cold. It was like when I was interacting and existing in the real world, that I could still feel, like a human, and it was dark and snowy. Anyways I found this set of tracks, footsteps, it went around the outside of the warehouse to this lamppost, and then became a set of bicycle tyre tracks. I had no way of knowing who it belonged to, but I had an idea, and I had to follow it through because quite frankly there was no one else around, I didn't know how to get home from there. Or if anyone could even see or believe me. I hadn’t believed in anything supernatural, or an afterlife, before my own death.
I followed the tracks for what felt like a few miles, eventually reaching this derelict sort of residential street, a lot of boarded up houses, old newspapers, overloaded trash bins on the street, and the tracks almost disappeared in the snow, but eventually I found the bike they led to. I went inside, (I wasn't quite sure how my ghost-abilities worked yet and didn't want to get stuck phasing through a wall, so I took the door. Once again, I was still wrapping my head around it, a few times my hand phased right through the handle, until I got pissed off, and I managed to jiggle it a bit, until I really got ahold of it and let myself in, it closed behind me) and found something I didn't quite expect. Down some stairs into a very dingy and dimly lit basement, all vertical wood panelled, the smell of smoke, mess everywhere, there was an old pc on a messy desk, a beat up guitar in the corner, and then on a gross makeshift bed in the other corner, it was scruffy guy, asleep curled up in a ball.
I was overtaken with rage, having found one of the people that was responsible for all this, and it wasn't hard to start messing with shit. I didn't make myself seen at first, just started throwing shit, knocked the guitar over, it woke him up and he started to freak out a little too, fear in his eyes, it was making me happy - until I started to realise (from a lifetime of watching Supernatural) that I didn't want to turn into a ghoul or lose myself to rage and become some kind of poltergeist.
I made myself visible using all of my rage and upset, and as soon as his fearful eyes fell on me, after a second of disbelief, he started.. crying. I'm not kidding. Full-on tears, he must have thought he was losing his mind or hallucinating, because he fell down to his knees and started crying. He seemed to think I was a nightmare or a really bad trip.
It took him a moment to gather himself and I used all of my energy to even muster words. Frankly this was a bit of a blur, I'm not even sure what exactly I said but I'll give you the basic gist of the conversation. I was furious, starting yelling and screaming even if a few of them did come out as garbled, muffled, or general ghosty-sounding noises. Despite his tears, I yelled about how I didn't deserve all this, nobody did. I actually got so angry that I started throwing things at him, he put his arms up defensively, I swung and punched and cried, I think I even split his lip. It was nothing compared to what I wanted to do, what I believed he deserved. But he didn’t fight back. He didn’t try to run or leave, he just sort of took it, like he knew he deserved it.
Once again in a scared defensive tone he burst out the apologies, crying over and over that he was so sorry, he never wanted any of this, that he couldn't stop, he had no choice, and that he was so sorry. That this is why he put me "out of my misery" because he couldn't stand being forced to hear them torturing me for fun like so many women before me, so he made it look as if the torture killed me. Of course I was still furious but I started to break down too. He was still terrified of my rage and extremely apologetic, but there was a weird tone in his voice, like he had been made too cold to even connect to another human. I broke down again, having my moments of "how dare you take my life away from me" and "is this what you did to my friend? And how many others?" And "I had so many things I still wanted to do, I wasn't done, it isn't fair, I just want to cuddle my dog one more time" and a lot more that are quite upsetting for me to even write down here.
He never stopped me, didn't even try to prevent me from trashing his room, he just stared at me, tears in his eyes, letting me trash it all until I tired myself out, having to sit down on his stupid gross bed to catch my breath and recover, which meant I was also like flickering in and out of being visible too. He was confused and scared and didn't even mention it.
I asked him what the hell he meant by "didn't have a choice" and why, if he was so sorry, was he doing this to innocent girls. He explained that it wasn't just him and some other guy, it was a network who had purposefully designed the fucked up drug in those syringes, and it was a ploy for stealing women for human trafficking. He explained that he wanted nothing to do with it, but his father was one of them before he died, and his mother was one of the poor women trafficked, and eventually killed. He explained that they basically raised him into it, and his two younger siblings, a little girl and a little boy, were taken away from him by these people, so they could hold their safety over his head and force him to do whatever they wanted, like swiping new girls like his father used to do. I wasn't exactly forgiving or sympathising with him, but it was a heart wrenching story, he even showed me a photo of the two kids, his siblings, and an old unwashed blanket that belonged to his little sister. They were so young. It had apparently been three years since he had even seen them. He went on to say that he never wanted to do any of this, but if he didnt bring them girls or if he went to the police for help, then they would hurt his siblings. Unfortunately in his own fucked-up traumatised mind, killing some of the girls and making it look like an accident from the torture, it was his only way of giving mercy to any of the women, making sure they wouldn’t be sold. It made me wonder why I was the only ghost I was seeing, why I wasn't seeing tons of other ghosts of dead women back in that warehouse.
Somewhere in my own confused and traumatised mind I started to empathise with this guy, his name was Nathaniel, but he went by Nate, and he sort of started to dissociate, but I wasn't done there. Maybe this guy, who looked about my age, was fucked up and did fucked up shit, but it sounded like he was as much a victim as he was a perpetrator. I couldn’t ignore my rage, but I did not have the strength in me to keep beating on him. I still wanted my revenge though, I wanted to tear this all down with this afterlife I had been gifted, so I told him I was going back to the warehouse to find information and that he would have to deliver it to the authorities so that the whole system would come crashing down, hopefully saving a whole lot of women and preventing it from happening to anyone else, even if I was still overcome with grief.
Nate naturally was too terrified to consider this an option and instead begged me to look for his little siblings, that he couldn't do anything unless they were safe. I hesitantly agreed, because no one deserved to be the victim of these horrible people, not this traumatised idiot raised in fire and not his little siblings either. So I went all the way back to that warehouse. I slipped inside, starting to get the hang of my abilities just a little bit more, and started to look around. I didn't find much in the way of evidence or leads apart from a whole lot of mess, bloodied rags, that sort of thing, so I headed back to the room I woke up in - that's where I found my body. It was horrible. Despite this and after another crying breakdown, I slipped off this red beaded bracelet I had been wearing, intending to return it to my dad for closure.
After having that moment of closure myself, I painstakingly left my own body, having not found the remains of my friend and hoping she was still alive (though beneath the pile my body was on, I did find charred remains, little bones and tiny shreds of burnt cloth, it was incredibly sad and only fueled my rage) I kept searching the warehouse, until I found some sort of office.
It had a few locked filing cabinets which are no hardship for a ghost, and inside were like tracking papers and ownership certificates, treating these poor women like cattle, but nothing on my friend, and nothing on those kids, until I found a little file in one of the locked drawers, that had an old bent photograph of two terrified looking little kids, skinny and worse for wear, but still recognisable as Nates siblings, it hurt to even look at, but I kept hold of it as proof.
Rifling through enough stuff, I found a letter, some bullshit about buying some women, but the important thing was it was addressed to someone who had to be important or like a boss in this stupid system, and it was addressed not to the warehouse, but to his home.
In my rage I didn't even care that it was dark and cold, and that I would probably be traumatising anyone who saw me flickering in and out of existence as I began the long walk in the snow to wherever this address took me. Eventually I found a house, it was large and fancy and clearly owned by someone with a lot of money, but no one was home much to my disappointment. Regardless, my growing anger took over me and I wrecked it all, trashing every room, tearing furniture apart, I even sort of scared myself with my growing strength, and each time I used it, it only made me more and more upset.
Then I heard a car engine pulling up. Immediately I hid in the shadows, then realised like an idiot that I didn't have to do that, I'm dead, so I left the trashed office with letters and evidence all over the floor and went downstairs and out the front door, leaving it wide open. I found myself in the garage, and a man was in his car, parking up, he hadn’t even had time to take off his seatbelt as he gathered some things from the passenger seat, but he never got the chance to leave his car. I appeared (more like apparated) in front of him in the driver's seat, had I not been a ghost I would have basically been sat in his damn lap, and I grabbed his shirt collars. The look of shock and fear in his eyes made me feel so fucking good. I started yelling at him, demanding answers about everything, I wanted to know where the hell my friend was, and this guy, freaking out and thinking he is losing his mind, tells me all the girls get new names when they are sold and that she was in a holding cell pending purchase, in a different warehouse, with the name Jasmine. I got him to tell me exactly where this warehouse was, and he was hesitant, but I grabbed his throat and squeezed until he coughed up the information. I was about to leave again, until I remembered Nate's little brother and sister.
I pulled out the photo I had found in his office at the warehouse, and shoved it in his face, demanding to know where the children were. He said he and his 'business' had no interest in children, and that they were just being held and all this crap about them but it was clearly things he was making up on the spot so I roughed him up a little bit, like phasing/gripping into his chest, it even spooked me a little. In the pain I made him reveal the truth, and it was horrible. He said it was too much money he didn't want to spend keeping the little 'rugrats' alive, so he took lots of photos as 'proof' to hold over Nate and had them killed and burnt almost a year and a half ago, just like any women he disposed of. This made me feel white hot with rage, I couldn't even speak, I drove my hand further into his chest until he screamed and then I disappeared from in front of him. He looked confused and scared and tried to bundle out of his car but I locked the doors, and started the engine, closing the garage door behind me as I trapped him inside to feel his own slow death, riddled with the same fear he inflicted on god knows how many people.
I waited outside with his briefcase for a moment before his screams and yells stopped, and I used the blood on my hand to write murderer on the garage door, not giving a crap if my fingerprints were in it, not like they could arrest a dead girl. I was past caring. I went inside to grab a load more of the papers and shoved them into the briefcase
I think I must have cried the entire way back, not giving a shit if anyone saw me, a ghost, carrying a briefcase through the snow. I didn't know where to go, the other warehouse was too far away to walk, and I couldn't exactly go home like this, not that I even knew where home was from here, and no police would start believing in the supernatural to take me seriously so I went back to Nathaniel.
I woke him up again when I dropped the briefcase to the floor, and he burst upright, a little scared but a little relieved to see me and not someone else. I collapsed to the floor and I guess he had a conscience because he got off the bed and told me to take it whilst I told him what happened. He grabbed an old towel and cleaned the blood off of my fingers, which felt really weird as someone who didn't quite exist, but with all the rage and upset I was feeling I couldn't even "turn it off" or disappear, I was stuck in the real plane, almost like a person again. He was even concerned for a moment, worrying that the blood was mine - it took a moment for it to sink in that ghosts don’t bleed.
I gave him my bracelet and told him it needed to go to my father, and I showed him the briefcase and told him about 'Jasmine' and the other warehouses where they made the paralytic and held the girls, with all their tracking and selling information, and told him it would need to go to the authorities. Obviously he was anxious at all of this and was waiting on news about his little siblings, which I almost could not bring myself to tell him, but as I collapsed onto that gross bed, feeling honestly a little sorry for him, I knew he would never help me expose this all unless I told him.
It was one of the hardest things I'd ever done, delivering the news to him that his little brother and sister had been killed, dead for ages, and they had been lying to him about holding them somewhere safe so he would do their bidding. Part of him didn't even believe me, I had to pull out the photograph, it was awful. And I'm not sure what happened here, maybe because it was a dream, or maybe because I was still just a teenager myself and so was he, or maybe just because I was in such a vulnerable position, I actually started feeling for him. I don't wanna dive into the weird fucked up psychology of this, I'm simply writing it down as it happened.
That night felt longer than any other night in my life, which was crazy because I wasn't even alive, even if I was starting to feel like I was, remembering I was just a ghost felt like a punch to the gut every damn time, and I hate to say it, but Nate was making me feel real, treating me like it, he never stopped being apologetic, seeming as broken as I was, especially knowing the truth about his little brother and sister. His own rage started to show, knowing that there was nothing they could hold over him any more, he was fearing for his own life less and less, in a sort of distressed and self destructive way, talking about how he was going to tear them down with me even if it got him killed too because he deserved it, no matter how many times I told him no.
Here's a funny thing, did you know ghosts could sleep? And dream? Because I didn't. Don't get me wrong, I didn't really feel hunger or thirst any more, but I could feel the cold of the snow, the warmth of that old mattress, and I dreamt; of when I was alive, it was more like and old tape replaying my memories, it felt way better than being awake, but the sun doesn't care about that, it rose anyway.
The next morning was tense, I hated the whiplash from waking from my dreams, into my new reality, and Nate had barely slept anyways, he said he had just been looking over the stuff in the briefcase, and the photograph, and watching me in disbelief just in case he was crazy and I was all just a hallucination, but I was real, I felt it when he reached out and touched my arm, my anger was dwindling, replaced with heart ache. The weirdest experience ever.
Anyways, with a lot of, well, bullying, from me, I convinced Nate to take this all to the authorities, and a lot more than just police got involved as this organisation seemed to span across the country, I was lingering the whole time, I even popped in when he was being questioned, and he was clearly uncomfortable and scared especially when they were basically interrogating him about the woman and his siblings, and the guy found dead in his car in his garage, and we both knew it wasn't Nate that did that, but there was no way they would have believed it was me. They knew Nate was somehow involved, and it did not sound like they cared about his own trauma and reasons.
Instead I did something extremely uncharacteristic, we left all the evidence there, the briefcase, the photograph, and the address to the other warehouses, but I broke him out. I helped Nate leave the building quietly and without detection, knowing he would go down for a lot of this too, if I didn't, and deep down I knew he didn't deserve the same treatment as all of those wacko's abusing women and killing children. He needed help. So I did.
Over the next few days, maybe even weeks (time blurs when you aren't really alive) I stayed with Nate. I helped him stay safe and avoid detection as he ran away, and he helped me, working on my abilities and the stability of my corporeal form and (as fucked up as it is) we got pretty damn close. Maybe it was a trauma bond, Stolkholm, who knows. I'm not saying it's right but it happened.
The trafficking ring collapsed pretty quickly, a lot of girls were rescued and taken into protective custody, including my friend, who was pretty beaten but alive, and a lot of the sellers and buyers and stuff were tracked down too, imprisoned for a very very long time.
I never stopped looking for his siblings, hoping maybe they would be ghosts like me, but I never found them, or any other ghosts really, except for a few of the other women I didn't know, other victims of the trafficking ring, I had to explain to them that they were dead, that they could pass on if they wanted to, and that this wouldn't happen to any other girls, because I had made sure of it. One of them even asked me to thank the guy that put her out of her misery because she couldn't take any more of the torture. She was talking about Nate. She actually wanted to thank him.
Over these few weeks, I decided that as long as I didn't lose my humanity entirely, I did not want to pass on, I wanted to stay. I fought an internal battle over going to see my father, I didn't want to reopen wounds for him when he was grieving his daughter, but I wanted to give him closure, tell him that I love him and that I was okay despite being dead, and that I had helped take down the whole organisation, but with Nates help I fended off the idea for a while, giving him time to grieve me and heal, I heard they even held a funeral for me. I went but stayed quite a distance away to allow people their own grieving, it was horrible watching them all wearing black, umbrellas in the rain, gathered around a casket. I almost went over there to see my dad when he broke down during a speech, but Nate stopped me thankfully. I stayed with Nate and we became more than fast friends. It was so twisted but we were all we had, looking out for each other, keeping each other safe and in check. I even helped him get his own help, therapy, etc.
After a few months, we decided it was time, I took my bracelet and Nate helped me find my way home. I was appearing real and corporeal more and more nowadays compared to my ethereal ghostly self, because it helped not raise any questions when I wasn't locking myself away, and it hurt me less to think about. The longer I went in my real body, even though it took a lot out of me, the less I was hurt by the knowledge of my past and how my life had ended.
I appeared to my dad and he freaked out at first, as I expected. He demanded to know who Nate was, and if this was some sort of sick trick, but I proved to him that it wasn't, ghostly tricks and all, and Nate gave him my bracelet as proof and closure. We explained that I was a ghost, we weren't sure how or why, and that I had stayed away to allow him to grieve. I told him about how I toppled the people that took us, and how I had been the one (with Nate's help) to get my friend back to her parents, and that I was so sorry I didn't make it back to him, at which point Nate had to excuse himself, trying not to break down. We weren't 100% honest with him about Nate's part in all this, we didn't want to confuse or hurt him and I knew he wouldn't understand.
My dad was worried for a while about me not passing on, being at rest or whatever, and took a while to accept the truth, but he was comforted by my presence and I was glad to have my dad back. Slowly but surely, after a long time of my dad and Nate being all I had, he introduced the concept of an afterlife to a few of my family members like my sisters, and my Gran, and when they were ready I showed myself to them too. Cue all the same breakdowns of disbelief and all sorts of emotions, but it was a weirdly dark but happy ending, I got to see my family again, my dog, my belongings, Nate was free from the control of the traffickers who were mostly all locked up if not dead, and I had helped him find a safe place to live that wasn't that grimy basement, and we were effectively inseparable, as I stayed with him most of the time to stop putting so much weight on my family. He went through a lot, I lost count of how many times he would break down, his nonchalant cold exterior cracking as he would apologise to me, he would still have nightmares about it all, and sometimes we would visit the memorial erected for the women who were lost, it was weird reading my own name on the plaque on the stone, but I got over it with time and support. He dedicated himself to keeping me and my secret safe, he got clean, he did the therapy, got his own job, and even took me to experiences that I never got to have before I passed.
What a weird dream…
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lately i have been feeling more emotional and irritable than usual. i wanted to buy a family photo album for pictures of our family. the way everyone reacted annoyed me because they thought it was an artwork product. they already confronted me about the way i’m spending my bank card money online. but i told them i wasn’t buying things as much as i have before so haven’t i improved. they said well i have started spending reckless amounts again and the money will run out if i don’t quit it. even after ranting to the others downstairs about being lectured by s.c.o.v.i.a, i felt like i was going insane. i personally felt for the first time in my life that i had been rickrolled by the amazon delivery person when my order looked very different from how it did in the picture. i tried asking c.h.e.l.s.e.y if she was going to agree with me on how i reacted to the team leader opinion. i felt like i was being ignored almost as if i was invisible to everyone where i am currently living at the moment. i told her to answer me and i banged her head on the sink and hit her a lot and kicked her leg. before that, i even felt so embarrassed about not being allowed to put the boxes of water into my food cupboard or fridge. i was told by the smartass to wait until all the other bottles have cleared and i can’t put them in the loft where the cleaning products and hoover is. after that, she just walked out of the front door and walked far away into the distance in the streets and i never saw her until the next morning. she asked me a lot of questions when she came to my room upstairs and i had nothing to say. after a while, our mum called me and we talked concerning what happened the previous day after 6:00pm. later that night, i called our mum very early in the morning and she said that she was still praying and sounded very tired. i felt glad to hear her voice even though i woke her up really early since i was awake for so long unable to sleep after waking up at 2:33am. after mum hung up, i just left her alone and i did nothing else but watched youtube videos until later in the morning around 7:50am. earlier today when i woke up, i was thirsty for some pepsi and i was looking for my purple cutlery set, purple cleaning cloths and pink soap bars. i wanted to open my online order while everyone else was asleep and quiet downstairs before they wake up to celebrate my absence. but i didn’t see any amazon packages on the fridge or anywhere near the floor. there was a padlock on the staff’s grey cupboard where all the printed documents and files were placed. i was so upset and angry about that and it also made me feel like an idiot and didn’t expect the grey cupboard to be locked as it never was before. around 8:12am, i was laying in my bed waiting for the staff to give me the awful tasting epilepsy medicines. after the staff finished that, they asked if i ate breakfast yet and i said yes even though it was after she left when i ate cheese crisps. i have stayed in my bed ever since and i have no idea what i should do and if it’s okay to eat in my room or not. just until the time we all grow old when finally everyone will feel comfortable around me again. i was born on 29th april 2000 in london middlesex hospital, near edmonton uk.
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I am so worn out. It felt like a really long day. I have had a headache since I went to bed last night. I couldn't take anything for it because I have my appointment tomorrow. Hopefully it goes away before then.
This morning was very awkward because the morning team lead and I still aren't talking. I do enjoy the silence but it is a very tense environment to be in. I haven't been in this situation since I started there. The lady that trained me was not very nice but we got along ok for a while. One day she found out what the last 3 digits of my phone number were and she thought I was the devil. She ignored me for months because of that. It was ridiculous and I think that's a stupid reason not to talk to someone. Anyway, I also found out that he isn't planning on going anywhere so that sucks. He went to ask my boss if he would be able to take 3 weeks off for his wedding next year. I already know that I am not going to have a good time if I stick around.
I was annoyed earlier while I was in decontam washing a pan because that creepy guy was doing his decontam shift and he wouldn't stop talking to me. He was trying to convince me to go bowling with him. I am not going to do that and I wish he would stop calling me his friend. I'm only nice because I have to be professional. I don't know what else I would have done to give him that idea because I do my best to avoid and ignore him. I wish they would stop asking him to work upstairs. It would be nice if I could just tell him I have a boyfriend so maybe he would back off then.
The afternoon was very busy and I didn't think it was going to be that bad. There was a specialty bilateral case and that took forever and they used a ton of stuff for it. The doctor was being a dick according to the tech and he kept asking them to open more instruments even though it wasn't necessary. He wasn't happy with anything they gave him. I inspected them and they are totally fine. He is just very picky and he was in a bad mood. I think he might have been stressed so I guess I can understand that. He doesn't do that procedure very often. He used a lot of stuff for his other cases too so I had a big pile at the end of the day. I didn't get all of it done but I don't even care. I just focused on the important things. I didn't put anything away even though my shelf was overflowing. I wanted to go home and sit down so badly.
I left and I made myself stop and get fast food. I knew I wouldn't eat anything if I didn't do that. I haven't had that in so long and I ate too much. I feel really gross but I think I needed to do that. I haven't been eating the best and I have been snacking too much. I didn't eat lunch today because they had wings and they looked horrible. I wasn't going to waste $7 on that. I'm just glad I'm full now.
Somehow I am still gaining weight but I think part of that is due to my soda intake. I haven't had a Dr. Pepper in 2 days and I'm grumpy about it. I know I need to stop because it's causing a lot of problems for me. I can also tell when my blood sugar is too high and it's not a pleasant feeling. I am afraid that I will develop diabetes if I don't stop because that runs in the family. I can have one sometimes but I can't do it every day anymore. I think that part of the reason my head hurts is because I am having horrible withdrawals. It's annoying but I think I am ready to quit now. I am just going to be sleepy all the time I guess.
I wish it wasn't so late but I am going to try to relax for a little while anyway. I don't have much else to say at the moment. I already got ready for bed and I'm cozy. I hope I don't fall asleep right away but I don't want to be tired tomorrow either. I think it will be a good day and I am looking forward to it. :)
I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow too!!! 💖💖💖
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472 of 2023
Do you still read the newspaper or have an online newspaper subscription?
No and no, I read news in newspaper online, but only on occasion.
What’s your favourite kind of meat? (vegan/vegetarian options count!)
I guess this survey is not meant for vegetarians as it forces you to choose a meat.
Have you ever been mistaken for staff at a store you were just visiting?
No, but I've been mistaken for NMBS and De Lijn staff lol.
What’s the coolest or most memorable animal you’ve ever seen at a zoo?
I don't go to zoos.
Do you share a bedroom with anybody?
Yeah, with my husband by logic.
What colour are the public buses where you live?
White, with a bit of yellow that's a part of the logo.
How often do you pay your utilities bills?
Once a month, like everyone.
What video game have you played the most hours of? If you don’t know, just make a rough guess.
I don't play video games.
Do you own a two-piece bikini?
I'm a dude, why would I own a bikini? Besides, aren't they always two piece?
Is there anybody else in the room you’re in right now?
No, my husband left for work and our cats are upstairs, I guess.
What have you got within reaching distance of you right now?
A bottle of Coca Cola, my phone, a box of tissues, and my calendar planner. And my tablet.
What have you been craving lately, food-wise? Anything non-food?
Sushi, and these days pizza. Non-food, just to be healthy.
Is your short-term or long-term memory worse?
Omg my short-term memory is shit lol. My long-term memory is great, though.
Do you do anything in particular to help you fall asleep?
Yeah, put the TV on.
What was the weather like today?
It's really cloudy.
Who will you see within the next week?
My husband and one of the people who sells us goods for our shop.
Do you have any guilty pleasure music? Anything you’re willing to admit in this survey answer?
I don't believe in guilty pleasures, I listen to what I like.
What was the last movie you watched that was over two hours long?
I don't watch movies, they're boring.
Speaking of which, what’s the longest you think a movie should be? I personally think most movies are too long.
15 minutes lol. And yeah I agree, movies are way too long.
Do you know anyone who is a medical nurse or doctor?
Yeah lol, the doctors and nurses in the hospital lol. From my family, my maternal grandma was a nurse.
Have you ever worked night shifts? If so, did you like it?
I did indeed and yes, I liked it. Time goes smooth when there's only you and a few workmates around and none of the bosses.
Are you good at fixing computer problems?
Yup, but I always procrastinate on fixing my own computer for some reason.
Do you tend to make decisions by following your heart or your head?
Head. I've been always like that.
What’s the population of your current city/town?
119.541, as of this year.
Do your parents live in their hometown(s)?
Nah, they live somewhere further.
What are you wearing today?
Black sweatpants and white t-shirt.
Are you one to accessorise a lot?
Nope, I only really wear my wedding ring and all my piercings.
What language other than English do you know the most words of?
LMAO. My native language is Dutch, it speaks for itself.
When was the last time you ate? Did you eat something nice?
This morning and it was oatmeal with apples and bananas.
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Chapter 4
It's been 1 week since Julia and I got together, and boy was our last therapy session something. When I saw Julia, I just smiled more than I ever have, now that she knows everything, I don't have to hide my feelings from her. My mother hasn't really talked to me so I didn't worry about that, but then she started her bullshit again.
"ELENA!! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO CLEAN THE HOUSE!" my mother yelled. I walked downstairs, "I was but then when I came down here, Barnabas was doing it so I just let him do it." I replied. "How many times have I told you to have NO ONE else do your jobs." She replied. "Many times, but he was already doing it." "NO EXCUSES, I KNEW YOU WERE WORTHLESS, YOU DONT DO SHIT AROUND HERE!" she yelled. "YOU YELLING AT ME ISNT GOING TO DO SHIT, IT MAKES IT WORSE!" I was full of anger.
Julia was up in her office doing some work, she hears yelling downstairs, she knows it's Elena and her mother arguing again. This time, she actually went downstairs and took Elenas side. "Elizabeth! Stop yelling! You yelling and screaming at Elena isn't going to do anything! That's all you do is yell at her for little things! Stop putting your anger out on her!" She was protecting me.
After that my mother walks out the front door and slams it and drives off, leaving Julia and I together.
"Are you okay sweetheart?" Julia asks me, wiping a tear that was falling on my cheek. "Yeah, she was just upset because she told me to clean the house but Barnabas was already doing it, and I didn't even tell him to." I replied.
"It's okay darling, i'm here, let's go upstairs, it's getting late." She said as we held hands walking upstairs together. I walk to my room and my mind goes back to the time when my mother woke me up in the middle of the night and traumatized me, that has never left my mind. I turn around as I see Julia about to walk into her office. "Julia?" I said in a soft voice. "Yes sweetheart?" She turns around facing me with a soft sweet smile. "Can you stay in my room until I fall asleep? P-please?" I asked in a nervous like tone.
She walks to me and walks in my room closing the door behind her. I was exhausted, but I just didn't want anything happening. "Anything for you." She smiled. I got in my bed and got under the covers and turned on my galaxy light that lit my entire ceiling. Julia laid beside me, she was cuddling me. I felt safe again when I was laying against her and felt her warm embrace, she was caressing my head softly because she knows that helps me fall asleep. I can smell her beautiful perfume that never left her. I close my eyes, knowing that Julia is with me. She never left my room, she ended up falling asleep next to me, which made me so happy.
Ever since Julia walked into the house and became the family doctor, my feelings have never left. The moment I first saw her, I knew someone nice and loving was finally living with us. It went from being her regular patient, to being her friend, and now she knows everything, while we are keeping our secret. Julia has lived with us for 2 years now, I kept my feelings in for 2 years, that was tough.
Julia and I act normal when we are around everyone and no one suspects a thing. When it's just Julia and I, that's when we act like ourselves around one another, though it's only been a week since all this happened. Julia apparently caught feelings for me also, which I was shocked but very happy at the same time.
The next morning I open my eyes and see Julia still next to me, I look at her and smile. She is so beautiful, her beautiful hair, her beautiful eyes, her beautiful lips, just her. She opens her eyes slowly and smiles, "Were you watching me sleep Elena?" She says with a light giggle and smile. "Well, not watching you, just admiring you." I blush. Our faces were inches away from one another. She looked at me and then kissed me. We haven't kissed since our last therapy session.
Speaking of therapy session, we have one today.
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njvfnjfhgfd
#the way i have been putting off finishing my good pIace rewatch right#and i finally just watched the second to last ep lmao and it made me so much more emotional than i remember ;-;#the fucking#'guess the good pIace is just having time w the ppl u love' or whatever SHUT THE FUCK UP CHIDI TT#i hate this show /s#bruhhhh that makes me want to cry so fucking much and u want me to watch the FINALE AGAIN??????#when they were talking about ending ur existence w the door or whatever that also made me want to cry#and i dont remember this episode making me cry the first time sdjgfhdngbkdh#rip my plan is to watch the finale at some point this weekend probably#well so either tonight or tomorrow lmfao#like late at night when everyone else in my family is asleep/upstairs#so i can sit here and fucking cry by myself :D lol bc when i go back to apartment i can't rly like reliably have time by myself#to sit and rewatch the finale and sob lolll#i hate this show why did i watch it again ;-; u know whats funny i rly want to rewatch Again w my friend/one of my apartmentmates lol#bc we wanna do like casual art sessions together and we did One and i was in the middle of my rewatch and i was playing it#for myself bc sometimes like listening to music while donig art doesnt do it for me it needs to be a show or something lol Anyway#but ya we've talked about doing it again and i think it'd be fun to rewatch it w her fully :D#anyway ya this show fucking sucks#(sarcasm sarcasm sarcasm fuck i love this show what the fuck)(i love it so much all i wanna say is i fucking hate it i hate it kjdhfgakdfn)#i fucking hate this show (lovingly)#i hate what this show does to me ;-; im FEELING TOO MUCH THINGS#anyway that was distracting me from my ongoing distraction rn of i/wbft brainrot and nto being able to focus on doing work#bc i just want iw/bft content and stuff but theres not much of that LMAO anywaydgfuhdbflgjbsfd#jeanne talks#lets try to get some work done :T also it's fucking close to my class registration date which i hate lmao#hate class registration season :D#also i lowkey have a lot going on for glowstick club rn (a lot of it is in my head lmfao)#so i am looking forward to the sobbing that the finale will bring#the release yk lmfao#i am eating a packet of strawberry pocky........ i should not eat this whole packet but
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i solemnly swear i am up to no good (george weasley x reader)
request: what if one night the golden trio is look at the marauders map that the twins gave Harry and they see the reader and George sneaking around hogwarts and they ask George about it the next day? ~ anon
warnings: yo i don’t even think i swear in this one it’s a miracle, can’t think of anything else but Fred’s dramatics
authors note: this is the best porcastination I have ever tasted (fuck chemistry uno?) anyway, I hope this is what you were looking for anon and thank you for the request <3
...
It's a carefully constructed routine, one that George has perfected by now. He's worked out that Lee is always the last to fall asleep, and so the coast is always clear when he begins to snore, that he's safe to slip from his covers and creep down the stairs, by which point the common room is always empty and he's free to leave completely undetected.
He knows the corridors to avoid, the ones with the gossiping portraits and regular prefect patrols. He knows that McGonagall keeps her classroom lit through the night to discourage snooping students and that the ghost will turn a blind eye at most things, unless they're in a particularly bad mood.
He's thought it through perfectly, even if he does say so himself. In fact, he's not had an incident since the first night they met up, when Peeves decided to draw the attention of every sleeping painting in the vicinity, who awoke rather grouchy, and ready to take their complaints straight to Dumbledore until George convinced them he wouldn't let it happen to again.
Now, though, he's sure he's considered everything and he's rather smug with himself when he arrives at the kitchens. (Y/N) smiles at him when he arrives, already perched on one of the counter tops beside two mugs of hot chocolate.
"Still beat ya, Georgie." She grins.
"Right you." He teases. "You have no idea the expedition it is to get here without getting caught."
"Excuses, excus-"
He's kissing her before she can finish, her laughter vibrating against his lips until she recovers from the abruptness of it and is gathering a handful of his jumper and pulling him closer as she does every time.
They've thought of everything to keep it their own, their sacred routine and their special secret. They've eliminated every possible hiccup that could occur, they're sure of it. Everything always goes as plan and their relationship is kept protected in it's own little bubble, the way they like it.
.
"You're not still obsessing over that map."
The boys by the fireplace jumps at the sound of Hermione's voice, staring wide-eyed as she stands on the bottom of the girl's dorm's staircase with a disappointed frown. Harry clutches the map against his chest, as if it will anyway hide it from her.
"'Mione." Ron exhales. "You gave me a bloody heart attack!"
"What are you doing up?" Harry asks.
"I left my textbook down here." She informs. "You?"
"We're uh, checking to see if Flitwick is still in the hospital wing with the flu." Harry admits shamefully. "So we don't need to the do the homework..."
"Of course you are."
She comes forward with a sigh, dropping into the seat beside them. She can't help but be slightly curious on the matter, even with her already completed homework upstairs. The map is characteristically empty for the time of night, most people's names stationary in their dorms except from the occasional pacing teacher, still up marking, or the prefects on their rounds.
It's what makes the set of footsteps tiptoeing down an empty corridor so noticeable, George Weasley's name so stark on the otherwise empty stretch of enchanted parchment. Hermione frowns at it curiously and points.
"What is George doing?"
"Who knows." Ron shrugs. "Probably just setting up some sort of prank."
Hermione gives him an unconvinced look and drags her finger up to the Gryffindor tower, halting at the boys dorms, where Fred's name lies still where he is sleeping. Ron takes a minute to catch onto the implication.
"Then why is Fred not there either?"
"Maybe he's gone rogue?" Harry suggests.
"I doubt that."
They return to George as his inky footsteps lead further through the castle, looping through hidden corridors and secret passage ways methodically before arriving at the kitchen, where upon realisation, Hermione lets out a chuckle.
"Oh."
"What?" Ron frowns.
"Look who already in the kitchens." She explains.
"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)." Ron exhales. "What's he meeting up with her for?"
"Think about it, Ronald." Hermione smiles knowingly.
Ron's brows scrunch in confusion, looking expectantly to Harry, who seems to have already clued himself in and is grinning knowingly. Then his eyes begin to widen with realisation and Hermione nods.
"He can't be- with (Y/N)?" Ron gasps. "No..."
"Seems that way." Harry gives an amused smile.
"That smug git." Ron breathes. "I knew he was hiding something!"
Hermione lets out a soft laugh, soon followed by Harry. Thoughts of Flitwick's whereabouts long forgotten at this new information and it's implications. In the kitchens the pair's names have stilled together, oblivious to the secrets they've spilled.
.
George sips slowly at his coffee, willing it to make up for his late night with a burst of energy. Even through his tiredness, he's grinning to himself at the memories of the night before. His eyes search for (Y/N)'s across the room, finding them quickly, well practiced in the art of doing so. She’s nursing a cup of coffee in a similar way, and gives a knowing smile before dropping her gaze with a slight shake of her head.
Across the table, Ron watches the exchange with insider knowledge and scowls at his elder brother, a mixture of perplexed and impressed. Harry nudges him warningly, but wears a knowing sort of smirk that George catches from the corner of his eyes and causes him to grow slightly uneasy from.
"What?" He asks.
"Nothing." Harry assures, coughing out a laugh. "Nothing, George."
"Alright..."
He attempts to return to his breakfast when he hears Ron snigger, rounding back on them with a frown. Hermione lifts her glass to her lips to hide her smile, only adding to George confusion. Fred's picked up on it too now, watching their little brother and his friends curiously.
"What are you lot so smug about?" Fred asks.
"That's what I'd like to know." George agrees with a frown.
George watches as Ron's eyes drift across the room towards same place as his had a moment ago, to (Y/N). George's jaw slackens ever so slightly, alerting Fred to this new development, also glancing over at the girl. (Y/N) isn't blind to this new attention, lifting her eyes to meet theirs and frowning in concern.
"Shut up." George tells Ron sternly. "Don't say anything."
"What?" Fred frowns. "What are you on about, George?"
George fixes Ron with a glare whilst also trying to figure out how he's come to know this information. He's so sure he'd considered everything, yet his brother is grinning at him like he's just won the lottery for best blackmail material possible.
Then, from the corner of Harry's robes, he recognises the aged parchment that he and Fred gave the boy themselves. He finds himself gulping and his cheeks growing warmer by the second as Harry chuckles at him.
"What the hell is going on?" Fred ask sharply, growing agitated at being left out of the loop. "What has (Y/L/N) got to do with it?"
Ron last two seconds before he's blurting it out despite George's pleading look.
"George met up with (Y/N) in the kitchen's last night."
"Merlin..." George groans.
"What!?" Fred bursts loudly. "You what?"
George groans and drops his head into his hands as Fred stares wide-eyed and betrayed. George should have considered the map, the most damning piece of evidence there could be, that no perfect timing and strategic route planning could save them from.
"You absolute git!" Fred exclaims, punching his twins arms. "You've got yourself a girlfriend and didn't tell me!"
"Ah!" George exclaims, sitting up to rub his arm soothingly. "No need for violence!"
"Uh, yeah there is!" Fred argues. "How long has this been going on?"
"I don't know- a few weeks?" George offers.
"A few week-" Fred gasps. "And Ron knew before me?"
"I didn't exactly plan that." George defends. "Harry's got the bloody map."
"Wow." Fred folds his arms. "You think you know someone."
"Oh come off it, Fred." George groans. "I would've told you eventually."
"Eventually." Fred scoffs. "I'm your brother- your twin! I should have been told the minute it started!"
George runs his finger through his hair with a sigh and gives Fred a sheepish look, although it does nothing to appease his twin's sour look. He's nice enough to feel somewhat guilty for it, even with his brother's dramatics.
"Are you ashamed of your family George?"
That's when George clocks that he's just being a dramatic git. He rolls his eyes at his brother as he starts up with a rant on loyalty and brotherhood, hand on his heart like he's quoting Shakespeare.
"You'll get over it soon enough." George decides flippantly. "We just liked sneaking around."
"That's possibly the most goddamn boring excuse you could come up with." Fred announces disappointedly. "You just ruined my whole thing- I was hoping for something like she thought you were me the whole time and this was actually a case of identity theft."
"Sorry to disappoint." George smirks with a shrug. "But she thinks I'm the better looking twin."
"She's clearly blind."
"Listen, I'm sorry I didn't tell you all." George sighs. "It started as an accident and then we just kind of got used to it."
"Wow, romantic." Fred jokes.
"Shut up." George scoffs. "It's not everyone's idea of a nice date but it's ours and we like it."
Fred smiles quite genuinely at this, the defensiveness in his brother's tone.
"You really like her." He observes. "Huh?"
George's eyes drift unsubtly towards the girl in question, where his smile widens at seeing her with that smile he's so used to feeling on his lips when they kiss. He chuckles to himself before turning back to his brother.
"Yeah, yeah I do."
"Then I'm happy for you." Fred decides, clapping his brother's shoulder. "But ever keep anything like this from me again and your twin status is revoked."
"Noted." George grins. "Oh, and Ron?"
Ron gulps at the change in his brother's tone.
"Yeah?"
"I'd be checking your shoes for spiders for a while mate."
#george weasley#george weasley x reader#george x reader#george weasley imagine#Fred and George imagine#george imagine#weasley twins#weasley twins imagine#fred weasley#harry potter#harry potter fanfics#fred and george
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My first Phic Phight fic!
For @ecto-american’s prompt
His name was Danny.
That was the first thing he knew for sure was true, when he had first woken up it was what everyone called him, and it fit just fine, wasn’t something off or uncomfortable so he let it settle over him before he tried to speak.
His voice didn’t come at first, and it hurt to try so the nurses made him promise to take it easy for now, to sit back and listen. So he did.
He listened as the people around him spoke at length about how much they missed him, about how they couldn’t wait to get him home again, about how glad they were he’d survived.
The loudest and most talkative of the people that visited him and called him Danny, was a large man in an orange jumpsuit that went on long enthusiastic tangents that Danny had long stopped paying attention to. He was almost always with a smaller, authoritative woman named Maddie, who insisted He call her Mom. They told him they were his parents.
They told him they loved him.
And then they told him everything else.
The first time Danny remembered something it was with excitement, he was still in the hospital room and between the visits from the men in the starched white suits, his parents, and the doctor, he had been wrestling with the feeling that something was missing.
It had only been when Maddie had finally taken off the hood and goggles of her jumpsuit had Danny gotten a flash of familiar red hair and asked, ��where’s Jazz?”
His heart buzzed at the question, sure, so sure that it would get answered, that he had remembered something.
But both Jack and Maddie had just looked at him, disappointed, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask again.
Eventually, once the doctor declared him competent and unlikely to slip back into his coma, his parents had taken him home.
There were streamers all over the house and a giant party banner that read “Welcome Back” in thick black lettering and Danny forced out a small smile as he looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. Maddie walked up behind him and he flinched, his body acting before his brain could catch up.
She had frowned at his reaction, and when Danny, stuttering, tried to apologize she said it was okay, and with a tightlipped smile, she pulled him into a hug.
He forced himself to relax, frustrated with himself. This was his mother, there was no reason for his instincts to be so afraid. Jack had joined the hug and eventually Danny found himself relaxing for real, sure maybe getting his memories back was a slow uphill climb, but at least he wouldn’t do it alone.
Eventually his parents let him go and told him he was free to walk around the house and reacquaint himself with it. His room was the first door on the left upstairs, the bathroom was down the hall and the basement, apparently, was off limits.
So Danny went upstairs into his room. It looked something like a teenager’s room he supposed. There were the posters hung haphazardly on the walls and they were torn at the corners as if someone had ripped them all off the walls before hastily taping them back up. The bed was made too, and there was a lot less dust than he was expecting after being gone for a whole month.
In fact, it looked like he’d cleaned and organized the whole room before he’d fallen into his coma and Danny didn’t know why, but that thought set him on edge. Maybe he was just an organized person?
It was just… he didn’t feel very organized.
He kept looking around. There was that feeling that something was missing, something important to him, and he walked over to the nightstand by his bed. Placing a hand on the polished wood Danny fought the flash of a model spaceship that appeared in his memories. It wasn’t here though and Danny frowned. Was that something else he’d thrown away and simply forgotten?
Shaking his head Danny headed back downstairs, maybe he should just ask Jack, er, his dad? He should really get used to calling them mom and dad. But before he headed down he went to the room across from his and knocked.
Maybe he was being foolish, but he had expected someone to answer, had a name even come to mind. When no answer came he opened the door himself only to find a storage room, nothing but shelves and boxes and Danny scolded himself for the painful ache he felt in his heart.
It was another week before Danny had another memory, and just like the last two, it didn’t fit quite right. Like a piece from another puzzle jammed where it shouldn’t fit. So he’d asked Maddie.
“Sam?” she’d said, a carefully blank look on her face, “Oh! I remember Sam, she was an old friend of yours you used to talk about her all the time. Shame she moved away.”
And just like that, he’d had his answer as ill fitting as it was. Sam was a girl he knew that moved away, the memory he’d had, of her crying face screaming at him to stay awake just stay awake damnit, was probably from a long time ago. The pain he felt in his chest -just to the right of his heart- at the thought of her not being near and that he’d probably never see her again? That was nothing important.
It was another couple of weeks of sleeping in that house, waking up and going downstairs to eat with his parents, to chat about memories he didn’t have and tell stories he never resonated with, before he woke up screaming for the first time.
Maddie had instantly run into his room, Jack not far behind and Danny scrambled away from them both. His mind filled with images of painful green light and the ominous glint of red goggles twisting his reflection in their lenses as they looked down on him.
His parents had pushed past the barrier of pillows and blankets he’d made and pulled him into their arms, rocking him and shushing him until eventually he’d tired himself out from crying and fallen asleep again. The nightmares returned.
Eventually Danny stopped asking questions about his memories.
Either they were incomplete, fragments of something real that had been twisted in time, or they were wrong entirely, figments of his own active imagination. He’d never had a sister, they insisted. It was his mother, Maddie that had stayed up late some nights to help him with his homework and bake him safe, edible cookies as a reward. Tucker was a kid he knew at school, yes, but he’d moved away years ago and they hadn’t spoken in person since.
He had blue eyes, when he looked in the mirror, not green.
It was frustrating, being unable to trust himself- his own memories. If it was anything more than broken, incomplete fragments he’d have argued, insisted they were real.
But then again, he also had memories of Maddie leaning over him, scalpel in hand to cut away at his flesh. And he knew that couldn’t be true; the woman that smiled every time he came downstairs, called him sweetie and kissed him on his forehead every night, wasn’t the monster in his dreams. She couldn’t be.
So he ignored them.
He ignored the moments of instinct when Maddie or Jack went for a hug or a kiss and he flinched, ready for an attack. He ignored how he never seemed able to give a straight answer when they asked about his day, even if he hadn’t done anything interesting at all. And he ignored his nightmares, stuffing towels under his doorframe to muffle the sounds of his screams. There was no reason to keep waking up his parents like that.
But no matter how much he ignored, he compartmentalized, or he forced himself to smile, to hug back, and to spend time bonding with his parents, he never felt safe. Maddie insisted that he was, of course she did, this was his home. But even as he smiled and agreed and let her hug him again, he wanted to leave.
This time his dream wasn’t a nightmare. No scary, well lit labs with beakers and glowing buttons, or disgusting, painful flowers shoved into his mouth. Instead there was the ticking of clocks, rhythmic and constant. A gloved hand gently soothed his hair back, and Danny’s fear seemed so far away.
It was the first full night of sleep he’d had since he’d gotten “home”.
That morning he’d asked for an analogue clock. His parents had been confused, but they acquiesced easily and took him to the store to pick one out. The one he’d ended up choosing was a large ornate antique with little clockwork gears and a loud tick. He was excited to put it up in his room, right above his bed.
He slept better after that, and some of the tension that had been building in the house eased.
His dreams were still mostly nightmares, attacks by inhuman ghostly figures were the most prominent. But they didn’t leave the same bitter aftertaste, fear and uncertainty as the ones with the table, the scalpel, and the round, red goggles.
But now they were interspersed with better ones, fuzzy hugs and fields of blinding white, sitting in a garden pruning flowers as a soft, familiar voice gave him instructions, playing video games as the player character, confident and excited with a familiar presence at his back. And his favorite ones, the ones in the clock tower with the hooded figure and his soft smiles. The ones where he felt safest.
The ones that couldn’t be real, not if what his parents told him was true.
The next time they went out as a family after that Danny had wanted to go to a garden, and while at first Maddie was hesitant, Jack had insisted the great outdoors were perfect for helping him recover properly. Danny had been thrilled and hugged both of them in thanks, their answering smiles were soft and Danny had the thought that it had been some time since he’d seen those smiles reach their eyes.
Danny had a video game he apparently liked to play called Doom, and he was pretty good at it, judging by the level of his character. When he tried to message either of the two friends he had on his contact list though, the game glitched and his info got deleted. Frustrated he tried to reboot the system but the game itself had somehow gotten corrupted and there was no hope in recovery.
Just another thing that was apparently important to him that he’d destroyed or couldn’t find.
The worst was the time he woke with Maddie sitting next to him in his bed, she had a troubled look on her face and he didn’t know what it was he’d done wrong. Had he screamed in his sleep without knowing it?
“Danny honey,” she had said, looking over to him but not meeting his eyes, “do you remember what you dreamed about?”
He’d answered no, he hadn’t, which was mostly true. The only thing he really remembered about his dream was the feeling of safety and the ticking of a clock.
It took a month for Danny’s parents to feel comfortable leaving him alone in the house in order to go to work. He watched them walk out the door, fending off forehead kisses and muttered reassurances that they’d be home soon to check on him and that he should call if he needed anything, anything at all.
Once the door clicked shut however, the smile dropped off of Danny’s face and he set his eyes on the one thing he’d wanted… no, needed to do since he had that first nightmare.
He went to the basement.
The feeling of going down the stairs stumbled over a vague, blurry memory and Danny felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. This was just to be sure, just to prove to himself that all those dreams, all those nightmares he’d been having since his parents brought him home, were just that, nightmares.
He opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, confused when there was no lock, no resistance at all. Hadn’t they said he was banned from being down here? Why wouldn’t they lock it? Even Bluebeard locked the door his wife wasn’t supposed to enter.
The basement was…
A basement.
There were no spooky ominous beakers of strange and unrecognizable fluids, no haphazard lab equipment lying around without safety devices, nothing sterile or blinking and there was certainly no large metal table to strap someone down on.
It was just a normal basement with boxes and a desk, some chairs, a couple of old pieces of random furniture and Danny let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. This meant that Maddie was right, they really were just nightmares, probably some subconscious latent fear of going home with strangers that he couldn’t remember. That was all.
So why did he feel disappointed?
The next week was full of Danny waiting for his parents to leave before exploring the house more thoroughly. More than once he’d gotten caught in a half remembered routine that didn’t actually fit with his surroundings. Like bracing for a fight every time he opened the fridge, or expecting another flight of stairs after the second floor. Once he’d even risked going outside for a walk, trying to find his school based on half remembered directions that only served to get him lost.
It was a new routine that Danny found himself thankful for.
Not that he didn’t love his parents, he did! But for some reason, when they were gone, and it was just him with his space posters and his ornate ticking clock, and the piles of modified schoolwork that was supposed to help him when it was time to reintegrate into school, he felt a lot more relaxed. More carefree.
That was why, when he’d found the picture, it had felt like his world had crashed around him.
His parents had come home to find him sitting in the middle of the basement, tears long dried, and with the picture clutched tight in his hands, crumpled now with how long it had been.
“You lied to me.” he accused once they were within earshot. He didn’t have the energy to speak much louder than a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the silence nonetheless.
“Danny-boy we can explain-”
“No!” Danny shouted, getting to his feet, “You lied to me .”
Jack flinched back and Maddie stepped in front of him, protective, as if somehow, out of the three of them Danny might be the threat. He growled.
“I trusted you to tell me the truth, I trusted you with my memories, memories that were lost to me . I had a sister! You had a daughter . She existed, she was real, she’s in this photo! Smiling! ” Danny couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, it was all too much. To know that the girl in his shattered memories, the one with the soft hugs and the floral scents, that baked him cookies and held him when he cried at night, was real. And that she was gone, erased by the people he was supposed to be able to trust.
He moved to storm past them, to go upstairs or maybe even outside and look up at the sky and try to make something of the twisting, knotted mess that was his emotions, his mind, his everything right now. But Maddie grabbed his arm before he could, tears spilling from her eyes.
“We didn’t want to hurt you Danny.” she said, voice soft and broken, “we didn’t want to give and then take away.”
She pulled him into a hug and Danny didn’t bother to struggle or try and break out of it, just let her cry into his shoulder as he stood there, waiting for his own tears to dry.
The next day Jack and Maddie left for work with more reluctance, neither one willing to leave Danny on his own again. But worry didn’t pay the bills and whatever it was they were doing at their job, it was clearly important. That was something Danny was starting to remember, all the things that were more important than him.
Danny went to the library this time, determined to start figuring things out on his own. His parents had said that his sister, Jazz, had died in the accident that had put him in a coma. They said they didn’t want to hurt him, or risk him not wanting to recover his memories if they were painful and that grief was difficult to deal with even without the head trauma and emotional conflict.
His parents said a lot of things, Danny was starting to realize. And almost none of it could be trusted to be true.
The first thing he did was look for a death certificate for his sister, Jazz Fenton. After hours of searching, reading every single name that existed in every obituary for this town in the entire month when his parents claimed the accident had happened.
But there was nothing. Nothing at all.
So next he looked up phone records. Any Tuckers or Samanthas he could find, but he couldn’t remember their last names at all, just what they looked like.
How they had been crying over him.
He didn’t know if he believed that they’d just moved away. Then again, it was becoming increasingly clear that he didn’t know what to believe, if he believed anything at all. By the time he’d gotten home it was late, and his parents were already there.
At first they didn’t believe he was just at the library “trying to catch up on stuff” but they calmed back down once he’d shown them his library card and snapped that if he couldn’t even do that much why did they bother bringing him back from the hospital at all.
Dinner had been a quiet affair.
It took another week of library visits and recurring nightmares of dissection tables and glowing ghostly figures that attacked him before Danny gave up on finding out anything about Sam or Tucker. But he still didn’t stop searching for Jazz.
There was something almost obsessive about his search for her, he just couldn’t let it go. He had to know where she was, and if his parents, against all odds, hadn’t lied to him about that ... Well that was something he’d have to come to terms with when he came to it, not before.
He started scouring the Internet for her name desperate to find something, anything on her. And eventually he did.
There was an old article, from at least half a decade ago, that had her picture under the title “Four Teens go Missing in wake of Fenton Investigation”.
Next to her were two equally familiar pictures. Sam and Tucker… and then Danny himself.
Scrolling, desperate to find something, anything to add up the memories he was getting into a clear picture, he began to read the article.
In wake of the Investigation into the Fenton‘s possible abuse, Danny Fenton (15), his sister Jazz Fenton (17), and two friends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley (15), have seemingly disappeared.
The discovery came shortly after Jack and Madeline Fenton were released on parol and allowed to return home to spend time with their children since no physical proof could be found of any alleged wrongdoings.
What could have caused their disappearances remains a mystery. The prevailing theory is that they were involved in a cult that may have demonized the Fenton parents due to their controversial occupation as “ghost hunters”. Another popular theory is that the children fled the results of the case, afraid of the alleged illegal experimentation. Other theories include kidnapping, witness protection, the possibility of murder, and tying up loose ends.
Will we ever discover the truth? It remains to be seen.
Ghost hunters …
Danny felt his stomach drop, a wave of nausea rolled through him and he had to fight off the urge to relive his lunch.
Experimentation?
Nightmares and half remembered memories started clicking into place, finally , and Danny couldn’t stand it. Why were the only answers that made sense the ones that hurt the worst?
Would it have been better if he’d just let it go? If his memories never returned at all? If he just kept living, eating homemade cookies and flinching from hugs until eventually the itch underneath his skin dulled and he could just be happy as he was.
He closed the tab.
There was no one home when he got there, and it gave him the chance to pack what little belongings he had that held any meaning to him at all. The motions were familiar and he had the faintest feeling he had done exactly this before.
Maybe he had.
He’d made it out the front door by the time his parents pulled into the drive.
There was the urge to run, to go back inside and hide and pretend he hadn’t been doing exactly what they caught him doing. But he was tired. He was so tired of feeling wrong and scared and uncertain and never knowing why.
So he held his head up as they got into the car and approached them with their hands raised, cautiously, like he was a wild animal they were afraid of spooking.
Was that what they thought he was?
“Danny, we can talk about this,” Maddie said, beseeching.
He met her eyes with his own. “Will you promise not to lie anymore? I don’t even know how old I am-”
“You’re fifteen son-” Jack interrupted, lying again.
“I was fifteen five years ago!” Danny yelled, his hand tightening into a fist, “I found the article! I read about the case! Five years ago.”
“Danno…”
Oh, he was crying. It was novel almost, Danny had thought he was too tired to cry, that there wasn’t anything more that could hurt him enough to create such a response and he didn’t quite know how to react to it.
He raised his hands awkwardly to scrub the tears away and stepped back, frightened, when Maddie tried to move closer to comfort him.
“Stay back! Stay back…” he looked at his hands, they were young hands, his reflection too, hadn’t changed from the picture in the article at all. Experiments. “What did you do to me?”
“It was an accident.” Jack said, before Maddie stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.
“We didn’t know Danny. How could we have?” She said, keeping her distance, cautious. “We tried to fix it-”
“Fix what? ” He hissed, “you haven’t told me what happened! You haven’t told me anything!”
“You!” Maddie finally snapped, tears falling heavy down her cheeks. “We were trying to fix you… but it wasn’t working and you just kept getting sicker… weaker… we had to stop.”
It was too much for her, and she turned away, leaning into Jack’s large frame as he comforted her. “We didn’t want to lose you, Danny.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You already did.”
Danny left his parents there, crying on the driveway of a house that could never have been a home. He had a clock tower to find.
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Hi, so i was about to send a request, but my phone went all crazy and i don't know if it got send or not ): so here it goes again I was wondering if i could get a George x slytherin reader after the war, where they're dating but all his family disapproves because she had like this "bad reputation", so he gets sad and angry because this boy is super in love with her, and she is like super reserved so his family don't trust her, but she is actually such a sweetheart with him.
family is complicated // george weasley
masterlist!
a/n: this was so hard writing the weasleys as mean people omg. i love reading fics where everyone is happy at the burrow and molly is an angel so this was like tearing me apart lol. hope you like it!!
summary: The Weasley’s have never liked George’s girlfriend, and one snide remark makes George finally lose it.
also a disclaimer! family turmoil and drama ahead, so if that’s triggering to anyone, don’t read this one! <3
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The sun was hidden away, tucked behind the dark clouds that littered the sky in London. It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, as the heavy curtains to your flat were drawn closed.
The sheets were in a pool around your ankles and your body shivered tirelessly. George always got warm at night and had a habit of kicking off the blankets in his sleep. You clung onto him, trying to collect some of his warmth that oozed from his shirtless chest.
Your eyes opened, feeling awfully heavy in their sockets. You didn’t want to wake up, you didn’t want to get out of bed, you didn’t want to get ready, and you didn’t want to go to the Burrow.
The Weasleys were nice to everyone but you, it felt like. They welcomed Harry, Hermione, and Angelina with open arms, but you and Fleur were the spousal outcasts. The two of you bonded over it quite often, trying to make jokes of it, but really it bothered you both quite deeply. The only difference between you and the other spouses was the green tie you wore around your neck for seven years. You hardly found that to be reason enough for the whole family to dislike you, but they didn’t.
You turned away from your boyfriend, bringing the blankets up from your ankles and wrapping them tightly around yourself. You pushed your face deeper into the pillow, hoping that if you slept all day you wouldn’t have to do the adult thing of going to your boyfriend’s family house.
George lifted the blankets from his side, moving under them with you. He glanced at the clock on your bedside table, and saw no harm in sleeping a little longer. His warm arms found their place around you, and the two of you fell back asleep with the intentions of avoiding the Weasleys.
“They’re going to be late! I bet she’ll get him into some kind of trouble!” Ginny and the rest of her siblings could hear their mother’s shrieking voice from upstairs.
“They’re still not here?” Ginny turned to face Harry, rolling over in the small bed they shared the previous night.
“ ‘Spose not,” he mumbled bringing two heavy hands to his face and blocking out the sunlight creeping into the room.
“No wonder,” Ginny said, sitting up slowly in bed, “I wouldn’t feel inclined to come if I were her.”
“Well, George loves her,” Harry defended, finding the conversation to be one they had often.
Harry was never one to befriend Slytherins in school, but his maturing age made him able to see past the house’s reputation. He knew you couldn’t be evil if George liked you so much.
“I know he does,” Ginny snapped, “but that doesn’t make her any less,” Ginny trailed off, unable to find the right words for a moment, “weird.”
Harry sighed, feeling awake after the conversation. He brought his feet to the cold wooden floor of Ginny’s childhood room, and placed his glasses on his face. The two went down for breakfast.
“When do you think they’ll grace us with their presence?” Fred teased from his spot next to Angelina at the table.
“Whenever she feels like it,” Mr. Weasley grumbled from the head of the table, his eyes locked on the newspaper in front of him.
Fred groaned, rolling his eyes. He quite liked you. He thought that if his brother liked you, then he should too, and he had no reason to dislike you. Your ‘bad reputation’ that his mother likes to bring up so often, was for the same reason he and George had a ‘bad reputation’. You and George shared a love for mischief, and the Weasleys disapproved.
“When did you tell them to come, mum?” Bill asked from his spot next to Fleur.
Fleur was the one who wanted to know, but she had learned it was better to let Bill do the talking for her with Mrs. Weasley.
“Around supper,” she replied, moving to stand behind Bill and fidget with his long hair. He jerked from his mother’s prying hands.
“Then why are you expecting them to be here now?” Fred asked, ignoring Angelina’s warning graze on his knee.
“Everyone else is!” Mrs. Weasley defended.
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell them to get here when everyone else was,” Fred continued, giving his mother a confused look.
“You eat your breakfast, young man, and stop worrying about what I said or didn’t say,” she yelled, darting back into the kitchen to get another pan full of eggs.
Fred caught Bill’s and Fleur’s eyes from across the table and they all looked annoyed.
You and George finally managed to roll out of bed a little after noon. The two of you stumbled down the cold streets hand in hand, still in your pajamas. You were in search of something to eat for lunch, even though you were both due at the Burrow in a couple of hours. You hated going with an empty stomach, because when you would load your plate up with Molly’s wonderful cooking, she would send you glares. You also hated going on a full stomach, because when you didn’t fill your plate with Molly’s wonderful cooking, she would send you glares. You rather her think you didn’t like her cooking than give her the opportunity to comment on your eating habits. You would watch Ginny shovel serving after serving into her mouth, and all Molly would do is pinch her cheeks and call her adorable.
You had gotten used to the criticisms pretty early on. You and George were an odd pairing, so you didn’t expect an immediate connection to the family. However, you had figured that after five years they may have warmed up to you, but sadly they hadn’t.
George pulled you into a small café by your hand, leading you to a secluded table by the window. The two of you put in your orders, and enjoyed the serenity before having to go to what was now both your least favorite place.
You wore a flattering sweater tucked into some smart pants. Clasping a delicate gold necklace George had given you for your anniversary last year, you called out to him to see if he was ready.
He came out of the bathroom, hands busy with buttoning his shirt. He was nervous, he usually was when he saw his family these days, and his hands had a shake in them.
“Here,” you said soothingly, running your hands over the wrinkles in the shirt and moving his hands away.
You finished buttoning the shirt, and George admired you.
Here you were, comforting him, when it was you his family didn’t like. You were willing to make more of an effort than his family ever did, and he loved you so much for that.
You stepped away from him, and his fingers moved up to brush a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. His rough fingertips grazed the top of your ear as he tucked away the hair. His hand fell down to the necklace you wore, and he twisted it in his fingers,
“I love you,” he whispered, blinking slowly, as if he were trying to remember this moment forever.
George always had the fear that any trip home could be the end for the two of you. He loved you, and he knew you loved him, but he couldn’t blame you if the hatred got too much for you.
“I love you too, Georgie,” you smiled up at him, forcing away the nausea pooling in your gut.
You went to your fireplace, checking the clock on the wall to make sure you weren’t too early and not too late. The both of you erupted in green flames, and soon the delightful smells of a homecooked meal flooded your nose.
“George!” Ron called from his spot on the couch, spotting you two first.
“Hey,” George responded in a voice you knew was trying to sound happy but came out shaky.
You stepped from the fireplace, and Molly rushed from the kitchen with her apron still on.
“My baby!” she wrapped her arms around George, pulling away and cupping his face with her hand.
He smiled down at her, and you recognized the nerves in the smile.
“Hi, Mrs. Weasley,” you said from beside George, waving and smiling shyly at her.
“Hello,” she started, already looking for something about you to be displeased with.
“Y/n! George!” Bill called, entering the house with Fleur trailing behind him.
You knew they liked to escape to the garden when they had to spend any amount of prolonged time at the Burrow, you and George joined them some times.
“Hi!” you said excitedly, not missing Molly’s scowl in the corner of your eyes.
Bill wrapped his long arms around you, hugging you like a brother. You released him and hugged Fleur next. Those would probably be the only Weasley’s that offered you a hug, as per usual.
“Where’s Fred?” George asked once he was released by his father’s arms.
“He and Angelina went upstairs for a nap a few hours ago,” Molly said, rushing back into the kitchen.
“Did you want any help, Mrs. Weasley?” she turned on her heal, gave you a fake smile, and shook her head.
If anyone else had called her Mrs. Weasley, she would have insisted they call her Molly, but not you.
“A nap? Blimey, how old are they?” George joked.
Laughs echoed around the room, and George wrapped an arm around your waist.
The two of you stood in the living room next to Bill and Fleur, talking with Ron, Harry, and Hermione on the couch.
“Fred tells us the shops going well?” Harry said, looking to George.
“Yeah, we’re doing alright,” George replied modestly. You flickered your eyes up at him, admiring him from where you stood tucked into his side. The shop was doing amazing, it was more successful than it had ever been.
“How’s your work, Y/n?” Hermione asked politely, and an awkward haze fell across the room as they all looked at you.
No one usually addressed you at Weasley family gatherings, so you were caught off guard.
“Good,” you choked out, clearing your throat and furrowing your brow, “it’s good.”
“She was just promoted,” George said proudly from beside you, nudging a finger into your side, “that Slytherin ambition of hers.”
“Really? Congratulations,” Harry said, the first and only person to say anything.
Bill and Fleur didn’t say anything because they already knew. The four of you had taken up having dinners at your flat sometimes, finding it better for all of you than the large gatherings at the Burrow.
“George!” Fred bellowed from the staircase.
He hugged his brother, hitting him on the back as they embraced. You smiled politely at Angelina, who nodded her head curtly at you.
“Y/n!” Fred said once he released George, hugging you.
Angelina’s eyes bore into Fred’s back as he did, but he didn’t care.
You smiled brightly at Fred, feeling relieved to have his happiness there. He and George were always the first to stick up for you when it came to Molly.
“Dinner!”
You all gathered around three tables put together in the garden, watching as dishes of food were levitated across the table. You served yourself food, catching Mrs. Weasley watching you with a critical eye from her spot at the head of the table.
Conversation flowed, though you, George, Fleur, and Bill generally kept to yourselves.
Bill sat at the other head of the table, with Fleur to his right and you to his left. George sat next to you, and the four of you talked like it was one of your usual dinners at your flat. It was better this way, less room for conflict.
All you had to do was make it through desert, which was moved into the house. That was it, one last meal and then you and George could say goodnight and be in the safety of your own home.
“Oh, I don’t think you want any of this dear,” Molly said to you, pulling away with a plate of cake in her hands,
“Mum,” George warned, holding his hand out for the plate while the other wrapped around your shoulders protectively.
You were never one to stop George from sticking up for you, which made Mrs. Weasley angrier. She looked to you, expecting you to give up the fight and not want any cake, but you looked right back at her with a blank look.
“She had an awful lot at dinner, George, she must be full.”
“Mum,” George said, louder and more angry.
“Don’t take that tone with your mother,” Mr. Weasley came from behind his wife, placing two comforting hands on her shoulders.
“Don’t speak to my girlfriend like that, and I won’t,” he responded, managing to sound somewhat calm, though a sharpness was in his tone.
“Excuse you?” Mr. Weasley questioned, his face becoming stern.
“George, let it go-” Ginny started from where she sat with Harry, the first one to take notice of the argument developing.
“No!” George said harshly to Ginny, whipping his head to look at her.
“What’s wrong?” Fred asked from behind you, shoveling cake into his mouth.
“Mum and dad are being rude to Y/n,” George started, looking accusingly at his parents, “for what? The millionth time?”
Mrs. Weasley gasped, putting down the cake on the counter next to her.
“George!” she exclaimed, prepared to make excusing defenses in her honor.
“It’s true mum,” Fred said from behind his brother, voice muffled by the cake in his mouth, “you’ve been, and usually are, quite rude to Y/n. And Fleur.”
You and Fleur made eye contact, both of your eyes widening as you realized tonight was the night where everything went to shit. No more passive aggressive comments, no more pretending everything was fine. After this, your invitation to the Burrow might be permanently revoked.
“He’s right, mum,” Bill’s cool voice said from beside Fleur, and everyone’s gaze shot to him, “you have it out for Y/n and Fleur.”
You stepped back, and George followed you, his arm still around you. It was like a triangle in the room, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at the edge of the kitchen, Bill and Fleur by the fireplace, and you, George, and Fred edging nearer the staircase.
“I don’t know what you talking about,” Molly defended, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Yes you do,” George said, narrowing his eyes at his parents.
“It’s late,” Mr. Weasley said, “maybe you lot should go home now.”
George scoffed from beside you, unwrapping his arm from your shoulder and stepping forward.
“Okay, Fleur, Y/n, why don’t you two go back to our flat,” George said in a soothing voice, “and we’ll talk this out, like a family.”
You fought the proud smile that wanted to spread across your face, and nodded your head. Fred guided you to the fireplace with a hand on your back, and winked at you as you and Fleur erupted in green flames once again.
“Well, this is not going to end well,” you mumbled to Fleur once you got home, putting a kettle on the stove, preparing enough water for George and Bill if they eventually came back too.
The yelling coming from the Burrow was unlike anything the small village had ever heard. Shouts of anger drifted from the windows, and the intensity of the argument could be felt for miles.
“You have no right to treat them the way you do!” Bill shouted at his parents, and also casted an accusing glance at Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Angelina. Harry had sunk into the couch, the only person still sitting as everyone else sprang to their feet.
“She’s not right for him, and Fleur’s not right for you!” Molly screamed back.
“You don’t get to decide that! I love her, Bill loves Fleur. What’s different about them? You love Hermione, you love Angelina, you love Harry. Why should Y/n and Fleur have to get the shit end of your behavior!” George yelled, waving his hands frantically.
“Y/n doesn’t even try with us!” Ginny interrupted, stepping closer to George, “She just talks to you and Fleur!”
“Because none of you ever gave her a chance! She tried so hard the first time I brought her here, and you all made her leave crying!”
Ron and Harry felt a pang of guilt at the thought of the remarks they had made about Slytherins the first time George took you to the Burrow.
“I don’t trust her,” Molly said, her voice stern but quiet.
“I frankly don’t care, mum. I love her. If you’re going to make me choose, I’ll choose her. Every time. I love her,” George said, his voice lowered and shaky.
“Me too, I’ll choose Fleur,” Bill spoke up, moving his wand from his pocket to prepare to apparate.
“Boys,” Arthur warned, stepping forwards and trying to soothe the situation, “don’t upset your mother.”
“Let them go! They’ve made their choices!” Molly pouted, moving to sit, defeated, at the table.
“Fine. Send me an owl if you ever come to your senses,” George said, moving towards the fireplace and picking up a handful of floo powder.
“Fleur and I have given you enough chances, don’t send us an owl. Goodbye,” Bill said finitely, apparating before anyone could say anything.
George hesitated in the fireplace, meeting everyone’s guilty looking expression. No one spoke up, and he nodded towards Fred, saying goodbye. He was back home in seconds.
You and Fleur turned to the men who had both just appeared in your living room. Bill had tears running down his face, and Fleur went to him immediately. Fleur looked to you and you pointed down the hall towards you and George’s bedroom, allowing them a place to have some privacy. George fell onto the couch next to you, and you went to the kitchen to bring him a cup of tea.
“What happened?” you spoke in a soft tone,
George retold everything, and you felt your throat closing as tears threatened your eyes.
“Oh, George,” you mumbled, taking his tea from his hands and placing it on the coffee table You held him, the both of you feeling exhausted. His upper body leaned into your lap, and you held his shoulders, soothing bits of his hair off his face.
You could hear the muffled voices of Bill and Fleur from your bedroom.
Suddenly, five people apparated into your living room. George sat up, and you grasped his hand as you looked at Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Fred all standing awkwardly in your living room.
“Nice place,” Ron said suddenly, craning his neck to look around the room.
Neither you or George responded and Hermione nudged Ron with her elbow.
“Right, sorry,” he mumbled, his lips going into a thin line.
“We wanted to say something,” Fred said, breaking apart from the group and coming to sit with you and George on the couch.
He turned around, looking at the group.
“We’re sorry,” Harry said first, looking at you, “I should have never said those things about Slytherins, it was stupid and so was I.”
You swallowed hard, eyes downcast at the floor.
“So am I. I actually think you’re quite cool,” Ron said, sounding just as awkward as you remembered him to be in school.
“I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry I stood back and let you get treated that way,” Hermione said next, and you met her sorrowful gaze. You nodded at her, returning your eyes to the floor.
Harry nudged Ginny, who reluctantly spoke, “I’m sorry too. If George loves you, then so do I.”
You smiled at the floor, nerves twisting in your stomach like they did when you first went to the Burrow.
“You guys were idiots,” George said sternly from besides you.
Your shoulders shook, and George lifted your chin with his fingers. He met your eyes, afraid you were crying, but was happy to see you laughing.
You looked at the group, chuckling senselessly.
“Thank you,” you said, “it’s a shame you’ll have to do that whole bit again for Bill and Fleur, though.”
Everyone laughed, and the group hadn’t realized Bill and Fleur weren’t there anymore.
“Did they leave already?” Fred asked from beside you.
“No, there in our room for some privacy,” you answered, pointing a finger down the hall.
“Ah,” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Not like that,” George reached behind you and hit the back of Fred’s head.
You stood, going to the kitchen and retrieving all the mugs you had in your cabinets.
“Need some help?” Ginny asked from behind you, Hermione by her side.
“Sure,” you smiled at them, and Ginny and Hermione moved into the kitchen.
They helped you carry out the hot cups of tea, placing them on the table. Bill and Fleur had emerged from the room, and were sat on the couch. You sat on the other side of Fleur, catching George’s eyes from where he sat on an armchair across from you.
He looked happy, finally being able to sit with his family and you in the same room without nerves plaguing his every thought.
#george#weasley#george weasley#george weasley fic#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley imagine#george weasley x y/n#george weasley x reader#george weasley x slytherin!reader#george weasley x you#harry potter
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“Make that Three”
A/N: I’m back! It got soooo busy with school and everything and it was causing so much stress so I set this blog aside for a little while. While going through my drafts yesterday, I saw this story and I really liked it. My original author’s note said I was so, so sorry because I thought it was bad? But coming back, I’ve come to the realization that I actually like this story ha! Anyway, if you’re still reading this author’s note, I hope things are going well in your life, and if they are currently not; I am sending out my thoughts and positive energy for you. My dm’s are always open <3 Enjoy reading :) xo Xuck
Summary: A few weeks before Molly decided it was time to bring the family back together, you run into George. After a special afternoon while spending some time with him, you show up at the ‘family sleepover’ holding a big secret.
Warnings: Fluff, mentions of pregnancy and a piece of art written with some grammar mistakes
"Y/N, my dear! How are you doing?” Molly asks while coming at you with her arms open wide, inviting you into a cuddle. You laugh and hug her back.
“Hi, I’m doing good. How about you?” You answer while unwrapping your arms. Molly lifts her hand, places a hand on your cheek, and smiles. “Now that you are here, I’m doing great!”
“I’ve missed you all so much! Come, come. Let’s get you something to drink.” Molly’s hand grabs your wrist and before you know it, you sit at the kitchen table with a cup of hot cocoa in your hand. You look around the kitchen and you see that practically nothing has changed, everything was in the place where it belonged. You let your eyes roam over the wall of photographs, every member of the family was on the wall multiple times. There were photo’s of all the Weasley children while they were still young, photo’s of everyone celebrating Christmas, and photographs of the children with their significant others.
You giggle at the photograph of Ron and Hermione on their wedding day, remembering the prank the twins had pulled on Ron. Fred and George had stolen his wedding suit and had it hidden somewhere very obvious. You have never seen Ron so stressed. Yeah okay, normally he is pretty stressed already, but this day topped it. Eventually, everything turned out to be fine.
You let your eyes roam the pictures again, now searching for the photographs with you in it. There were a lot because ever since you came home with Fred and George that one holiday, you were a part of the family and Molly saw you as one of her own. You let your eyes linger on the photograph of you and George longer than the others, your heart fasting up its pace and forming a small smile. It has been a couple of weeks since you last ran into him and things took an unexpected turn. It was a night of secret confessions, stolen glances, and lingering touches. The things that happened that one night, turned into a big, little secret no one knew of.
Molly intruded your thoughts as she began saying that it shouldn’t be long before the others are here. “It’s been a long time since everyone was home at the same time!”
You laugh at her and before you get the chance to answer, the front door opens and reveals the sounds of the voices from the rest. Everyone planned to show up at the same time, bombing the silence in the burrow.
“Y/N/N!” Hermione screamed, flinging herself into your arms. “Dear Godric, I missed you soooooo much.” She says and you giggle. “Hi ‘Mione, how are you doing?”
It took a good ten minutes taking the time to greet every member of the family minus three. Fred and George still had to work in the shop that day, so when the shop is closed they could come over with Fred’s significant other, Angelina.
Everyone is taking their places at the dinner table, as it is the best place for everyone to be catching up at the same time. There are so many stories to be told, some needing to be told multiple times because the others got into a conversation of their own. No one got a hold of the time and before you know it, a couple of hours have passed.
The front door slams open once again, revealing the last three persons missing at the table. Fred and Angelina took the first steps into the house. “Good evening my dearest family! How are you all doing?” Fred practically screams with a huge grin on his face. The whole family flew to the new people, hugging them and saying their greetings.
You were one of the last to greet Fred and Angelina, telling them your hi’s and how happy you are to be seeing them. Last but not least, you were the last to greet George. You e/c eyes catching his deep brown ones, showing a sparkle. He smiles softly and wraps his arms around your waist, while you throw yours around his neck. “Godric, I’ve missed you so much.” He mumbles and presses a secret kiss in the crook of your neck. With one last squeeze on your hips, he releases you and walks into the kitchen, ignoring the funny look on Fred’s face.
-
You and George were not official. There was in no way you could say you both were dating and it got a bit on your nerves right now. Everyone was done with eating and were now having a conversation - the millionth time today. You looked around the table and your gaze lingered around George’s. He was already looking at you. His mouth made the slightest smile which made you blush. It took everything in your strength not to fly over the table, grab George by his tie and kiss him on the mouth. You sigh and took another sip of your seventh cup of hot cocoa. Normally you wouldn’t have this much chocolate to eat, nevermind to drink, but lately you were craving it more and more. You knew why, it was a secret no one else knew so far.
Suddenly Molly gasped, flinging her hand over her mouth and looked surprised. Everyone stopped talking and stared at her. “Oh my, I’m so sorry!” She looks around, setting her eyes on Arthur. “I have made a mistake with counting the beds! We are missing one bed.” She puts her head in her hands and takes a deep sigh.
“It’s okay honey, we’ll figure it out.” Arthur says, putting his hand on Molly’s back.
“Well one of us has to sleep on the couch then.” Fred jokes and Ron laughs.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.” You say and look Molly in her eyes. “No, no. You won’t have to sleep on the couch.” She mumbles and pulls her arm around you.
“No Molly, it is okay. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch, I’ve grown to love it, to be honest.” You grin and take another sip of your hot cacao.
It's true, you have grown fond of the couch. You stopped numbering the moments you fell asleep on it, finding yourself waking up with a blanket wrapped around your body.
“Are you sure?” Molly asks and you nod. “Don’t worry, as long as I have my blanket and pillow, I can sleep everywhere.” You wink and she laughs.
-
It’s two o clock in the morning. Everyone went to their beds over two hours ago, leaving you in the living room with a blanket and a pillow. Molly has asked you a dozen times if you really didn’t mind and after practically sending Molly upstairs, she eventually accepted your answer. Right now you were sitting on the couch, the blanket wrapped around you while reading your book when you heard footsteps behind you.
“You really shouldn’t be sleeping on the couch. Take my bed, please.” The voice of George sounded. He came to sit next to you. “And sleep with Fred and Angelina in one room? No thanks.” You giggled and put your book down.
George opened his arms, inviting you into a cuddle which you gladly accepted. You put your head against his chest while folding your arms around his waist.
“I missed you, you know.” George whispered into your hair, placing a kiss on top of your head. You felt your face heating up, happy he couldn't see you blushing. "I hate that we haven't talked since that night."
"I know, me too." You mumble, pressing your face more into George's chest. "Do you really meant what you say back then?" You ask.
"Yes, I do." George puts his finger under your chin and lifts it so you have to look him into his eyes. "I want to continue this. What we have." He places a kiss on your mouth. Before you could answer his kiss, he has removed his lips already.
"I want that too." You smile at him. He grins and pulls you closer.
"Mom's going to ask us tomorrow if we all want to come along on vacation this summer. Should I say she has to reserve two places? You and me?" George asks, wrapping a string of your h/c hair around his finger.
"Make that three." You whisper, looking into his eyes. You see his eyebrows turn into a confused state.
"What did you say?"
"Make that three. Three places." You repeat and you grab his hand and place it on your belly. "I meant to tell you tomorrow when I saw the chance of getting you alone but here we are." You throw him a soft smile. Scared of his reaction, you distance yourself from him and look into the fireplace.
"Are you serious?" His voice sounds hoarse. All you can do is nod. "Checked it multiple times, different methods. All came back positive." You mumble, still not looking towards George.
"Look at me." Was all he said, but you didn't hear him. "Love, could you please look at me?" He asked.
When you turned your head, all you could see was George with one of the biggest smiles you have ever received from him. He grabbed your face and placed a kiss on your nose. Then one followed onto your forehead, both your cheeks and eventually he left one on your mouth.
"I love you so fucking much.”
#george/reader#george weasley#george weasley x reader#george weasley fluff#george weasley imagine#harry potter universe#george weasley / you#Dad!George#Dad!George Weasley#George Weasley pregnancy
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Unwanted-Peter Parker
Summary: Y/n Stark gets more than she bargains for when she joins her Pops, Captian America, for the civil war of the century.
Pairings: Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader, Steve Rogers x Daughter!Reader, Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Warnings: swearing, fighting
A/N: Just so you don't get too confused, Y/n is Tony Stark's biological child, however, she was raised by the Avengers and refers to Natasha and Steve as Mama and Pops. Also I wrote this a year ago LOL. Enjoy x
Part Two
New York, 2016
This was bad. Very, very bad. I had seen the secretary come in the compound over the screen of the security monitors. He marched into my home, unannounced and unwelcome, holding himself with purpose. I followed him over the screens, tracking his movements. I watched as he was led through the building, up the elevator and into...the conference room? Oh this was bad. Very, very bad.
I raced as fast as I could. By the time I got the to conference room, the whole group was already sitting in front of the secretary. I saw Wanda first. Her back was to me, but I could see her rigid frame and I knew something was happening. My father saw me approaching through the glass walls. He shot me a look that said "Don't do it. Don't come in here." I didn't obey.
The secretary stopped speaking abruptly when I walked through the doors. He gave me a quizzical look, did a once over and immediately looked at my father. Surely I don't look that much like Tony.
"Sorry I'm late, no one informed me about this team meeting," I gasped, short of breath from all the running. Of course, this was pushing it. As much as I wanted to be a part of the group, fighting was not my style, so I often got left out of important Avengers activities. I got to live with them, but that was it. Tony rose from his seat. He mumbled an apology to the secretary and gently ushered I out of the room. I would have fought back, but seeing the look on my father's face was enough to shut me up. And I never shut up. The secretary resumed his story. Something about golf and a heart attack.
My dad turned to face me. "Look kid, I get that you want to know what's going on, and you will, but today isn't the day."
"Okay," I said. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be, it's okay to be curious," he replied, walking back into the meeting. "Stay upstairs, okay hun?" I nodded and started the trek back up to my room. I shut the door and flopped onto my bed. Out of my long list of pet peeves, this was number one. Sure, I didn't want to fight, but come on family, I should at least get to be in on what's going on! Maybe I could help. I have powers for God sake. I am more than capable of helping the Avengers. But they always saw me as the little girl who needs protection.
"April, pull up security footage of the conference room please," I asked. April, the AI I built, that was modeled after Friday, projected the video surveillance from the ceiling. "Volume up." The group was in the same position as from when I left. The secretary was passing around the room. There was a thick white book being passed around the table.
"The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place," Steve said quietly. "I feel we've done that."
The secretary looked down at him. "Tell me Cap, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?" What? You were so confused. Why did the secretary care where my uncles were? No one answered the secretary's question, so he kept talking. I racked your brain to find the answers on my own. "...this is the middle ground." The secretary pointed at the book, now lying untouched on the table.
"And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Natasha asked.
"The you retire," the secretary responded. With that, he left the room and I scurried back downstairs.
Everyone was in the living room. I sat in the stairwell, again being uninvited to this group discussion. I listened to them fight. I figured out what was going on. The United Nations were being ungrateful little bitches and hated that they didn't have control over my family. So they gave an ultimatum: give in or give up. From the sounds of it, Uncle Rhodes, Vision and two of my four parents were in agreement with the accords. Steve and Sam were against it. Wanda hadn't said a word. Tension was growing high, I could feel it. I heard my father conclude that he won and a thud of the accords being tossed on the coffee table. Someone got up and left. Before I had the chance to act, the door to the stairwell was torn open. Steve pushed through and nearly stepped on me.
"Eavesdropping?" He smiled.
"You kicked me out, what else am I supposed to do?" I retorted. I noticed the tears welling in Steve's eyes. "Pops, what's wrong?"
Steve's glance fluttered to the ground. "Peggy. She, um..." was all he said. All he had to say. I was smart enough to read between the lines. I stepped forward and hugged Steve. He smiled, grateful that he had me. I knew how much Peggy meant to him. When I was little, he'd always tell me the story about how they met, how they never got that dance. And every time I would make him dance with me. He even took me to visit her once. I was ten and it was Christmas time. Steve told me that he wanted his favorite girl to meet his favorite niece. Now that was all but a memory. I held him tight before telling him to go. It was okay, I could handle the others. He left without a second glance.
Within days the team was scattered. Steve and Sam had gone to Peggy's funeral. Natasha was off to the signing of the Accords in Vienna. And then all hell broke loose when the bombs went off at the signing ceremony. As always, I were left home. I had no idea what was going on. At first this break in the team was about the Accords, but somehow Steve's old pal Bucky got involved. I didn't know what to think. The next thing I knew, everyone left for Berlin to rescue Steve and Sam from jail, leaving myself, Wanda and Vision at home.
When night fell, I was in my room, sulking as one would say. I was spending my evening flipping through Tumblr. There was a new superhero everyone was talking about. He called himself Spider-Man. New York based, focused on small neighborhood crimes. By YouTube footage alone, it was obvious he was a rookie. Soon enough, though, I accidentally conducted a full fledged search on this guy. He seemed shady. Sure, he's helping old ladies cross the street and all, but he just has a vibe. I couldn't put my finger on it. April broke me out of my research when she told me that there was a security breach in the compound. I pulled up the security camera footage and saw Clint Barton in my living room with Wanda levitating a knife at his nose.
I rushed downstairs. When I got to the living room Vision was holding Clint by the neck. I watched in silence as Wanda used her powers on Vision. She made it look easy. Slowly, Vision sunk to his knees. Wanda pushed further and the floor gave way. Vision was pushed through all seventy-four thousand levels of the compound. Wanda and Clint were about to turn to run out when you revealed yourself.
"Now was that really necessary?" I smirked. "We just had the floors waxed."
"Y/n," Clint warned.
"I'm not sitting on my ass," I said. Clint smirked and nodded. He knew he couldn't stop me anyways.
One car ride, plane flight and van trip later, I was in Germany. As it turns out, Steve wanted Clint and Wanda on his side, along with some ant dude named Scott. Scott was cool. Him and I sat together on the plane ride and watched Die Hard. He was asleep in the van when we pulled over in the airport parking lot. Clint told me to stay in the van. For once, I listened. I heard voices belonging to Steve and Sam. Clint slid open the van doors abruptly, shaking Scott awake. I chuckled to myself as he fangirled over my Pops. A voice over the intercom said something in a language I didn't know. A voice I didn't recognize said that the airport was being evacuated.
"Stark." Sam muttered.
Scott looked puzzled. Clearly he hadn't been filled in either. "Stark?" he asked.
I step out of the van. "Yes?" Steve and Sam look at me with wide eyes. Clint gave Steve a sheepish shrug. Behind their little blue car stood Bucky Barnes. I knew who he was. I learned about him in school. I knew he was some evil super soldier that attacked Natasha and Steve. He looked scary. He looked exactly like the type of guy to hurt my Mama and Pops. I held his glance until Steve spoke up.
"Y/n, what are you doing here?" Steve whisper-shouted. His voice always got quiet when he 'yelled' at me.
"I hitchhiked." I replied, knowing that at this point Steve didn't have the time to argue with me. He shook his head in defeat and took a deep breath.
"Suit up."
The airport was huge. Our group got suited up and started for the runway. I didn't know how Steve knew where to find my dad, but I followed him anyways. Before I could get any closer, Bucky held me back.
"It's, uh, not gonna be safe. You should stay here and keep low," he said. I frowned. I did not come all this way to not fight. But even still, I nodded. Bucky scared me. He and Sam took off in another direction to find the getaway jet. I laughed. This whole thing was ridiculous. My attention turned to the sound of my father and Rhodey flying down from the sky.
"Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in," Tony started. "That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?"
"You're after the wrong guy," Steve replied nonchalantly.
"Your judgement is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday-"
"And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find 'em first Tony. I can't."
"Steve," Natasha approached him slowly. "You know what's about to happen. Do you really wanna punch your way out of this one?"
I took this as my cue. "No, but I will," I said, emerging from my hiding spot. I looked at the faces of your family. My gaze fell on Tony and my smile dropped. He looked angry.
"You brought my daughter into this?" Tony yelled, turning to Steve.
"Technically, I brought myself," I said. "You really think you were gonna leave me out of all the fun?"
Tony pinched his brow. "Y/n, this is serious."
"No it's not," I objected. "No, this got personal the second you thought you were gonna loose Pops to Bucky." No one moved after I said that.
"Alright, I've run out of patience," my father finally spoke. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Underoos!"
Before I had a chance to process, a red and black blur whipped past my head. It landed on top of a nearby van. It was Spider-Man. As in the Spider-Man. He had taken Cap's shield from him. I said nothing. My father could have recruited me, but instead he chose this little neighborhood nobody. That hurt a little. The Spider-thing and my father bantered for a minute. So he's never even been in a real fight before, I thought.
"You've been busy," Steve smirked.
Tony turned back to Steve. "And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint and Y/n, rescuing Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep-" he paused, sighing. "I'm trying to keep to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart."
"You did that when you signed." Steve kept his cool. My father did not.
"Alright, we're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us, now, because it's us! Or squad of J-SOC guys with no compunction of being polite. Come on."
Everyone stood still, waiting. Steve put his web-cuffed hands in the air. Clint shot them free from a mile away. I saw Scott -or a tiny version of him. Spider-Man noticed too, right before Scott grew and kicked him in the face. My dad flew off to retrieve Wanda and Rhodey was ready to take on Cap.
"Hey Mr. Stark, what should I do?" Spider-Man asked. He sounded young.
"What we discussed, keep your distance, web 'em up!" My father barked, as he flew towards Clint and Wanda.
"Okay, copy that," Spider-Man replied. He shot a web at me first. It caught my arm and I got whipped to the ground. I glared at him.
"Really?" I hissed.
"Just following Mr. Stark's orders," He said before swinging off after Bucky. I was left on the ground once everyone dispersed. I tried pulling my hand out of the sticky material that was shot at me, but it was stronger than glue. I was forced to watch the action unfold and wait until Natasha ran past me.
"Mama, a little help here?" I called out to her.
She stopped for a second. "Sorry honey, I really don't want you getting hurt." She ran off and I groaned. No one ever wants me to get hurt. I suppose I should be grateful, but in a moment like this, gratitude is hard to find. I started toying with the web. I wondered if I could break down the molecules. Surely there had to be some sort of H2O compound in it somewhere.
My power surged through me, the current flowing to the hand webbed to the ground. I managed to manipulate the water out, just as I predicted I would. The substance melted off my hands. Gross, I thought. I wiped the remaining web on my pants and got up. The water from the webbing fell to the ground with a splash.
I stood up and examined my surroundings. Natasha was on the ground fighting Scott, who shrunk down and flipped her over her own head. The Black Panther was on the other side of the roof, battling Steve. I didn't move. As much as I wanted to be included, I couldn't bring myself to fight. Not now at least.
The two teams assembled, divided by a line on the pavement. How cinematic. I was on Cap's side. I never meant to fight against my father. If anything, I thought it was funny. I looked out at the team in front of me. They were all lined up, Rhodey, the cat, Tony, Nat, the Spider-brat. Vision hovered above them. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of my neck. I were scared. I wasn't made to fight.
"What do we do Cap?" Sam asked.
"We fight." Steve moved first. We followed in suit. My dad's team mimicked my team's actions and walked closer. We broke into a jog and then a full out run. This was really about to happen. I hoped that my family would go easy on me. I knew what I was doing. I reassured myself of that. I have done a bunch of training, especially with Wanda. I could move the freaking elements with my mind and manipulate gravity! As if the Spider-Man could beat that. I am Y/n fricking Stark. I can do this.
I put a smile on your face, contrasting everyone else's bitter looks. "I call the spider!" I yelled, just as everyone began the battle. Spider-Man heard me and slowed down just a bit. I cocked an eyebrow. He resumed his pace and ran straight for me. I ran headfirst towards him. He threw out his arm to web me, but I was faster. With a swish of my hands, I changed his gravitational pull and made his feet flip out from under him. He landed on his back with a hard thud. As gently as I could, I morphed the pavement under him to trap his hands. "Careful there, Spider-boy. Don't wanna get stepped on." I walked away. I made it about ten steps before I heard the sound of concrete cracking. I turned around and saw that Spider-Man was breaking free of his restraints. I was shocked. He has super strength. Great. I should have moved out of his way because the second he got one hand free, I was webbed against a truck.
"For the record," he said, getting up in my face. "It's Spider-Man." He swung off into the airport through a glass window. I watched the glass rained onto the ground. Taking a deep breath, I quickly removed myself from the webs. I needed a plan. A strategy. I thought about at the opposing team. Everyone was scattered around the airport. I thought about who would be easiest to fight. But then I realized, the strategy wasn't about how they'd fight, but who. There was no way in hell that my parents or Uncle Rhodey would even think about fighting me. The Black Panther didn't know me, so he was a threat. The worst Vision could do was pick me up and fly away, so he was in thr safe zone. That left the spider. I smiled to myself. Rematch time.
By the time I found Spider-Man, he had already webbed Sam and Bucky to the floor. He was perched on top of a light post, saying something about impressing my father. Sam's mini falcon whizzed past me and grabbed Spider-Man by the web. He got pulled out a window, banging his side into the pane on the way out. I ran over to Sam and Bucky. Quickly, I destroyed the webbing and helped them up. They both gave me a quick "Thanks kid," before running back out. I followed them, staying loose on their trail.
Once I got outside my eyes scanned the area for the Spider. I saw Wanda piling cars on my father and Natasha fighting Clint. Then I spotted him, fighting Cap. He was underneath a jet bridge . Cap threw his shield at the support beams and the whole thing fell on top of Spider-Man. He caught it of course, but Cap ran away. I formed my plan.
"Hey!" I called out. I walked around the collapsing jet bridge. I stood in front of the struggling boy. Or man, I didn't know. "Remember me?"
"Heh, how could I forget such a pretty face," he grunted, starting to fold under the weight of the jet bridge. "You wanna give me a hand?" I glared at his face comment, but lifted the jet bridge anyway. He ran out and I let it fall. Both of us stopped for a minute, gasping for breath beside the rubble. He was close enough to hit. So I did. Without warning I threw a punch of air at him. It hit him right in the chest and he got blown back into the side of a van. "What the hell man?" He got up and shot a web at me. I dodged and threw another gust of wind. It shot him out of the air. He webbed at a pole and swung past my face. I redirected his gravitational pull, but not before he got a kick to my face. We both got thrown in different directions. I landed hard on the ground, pain shooting up my spine. I got up first, now angry. Forgetting about my powers, I lunged at him and threw a punch. I missed and he shot webs at my feet, holding me down. Immediately, I dissolved them and Spider-Man's eyes widened. Well, his mask's eye holes did anyway.
"How did you do that?" He yelled. "What kind of witchcraft-"
"Its not witchcraft," I spat. "It's called manipulation of the elements, look it up. I figured there had to be some water compound in this and I was right. All I had to do was remove it."
"That's so cool! And how did you do the foot thing earlier? Was that just the wind you do or do you have telekinesis too? Are you like the Scarlet Witch?" He rambled on. I took this to my advantage and caught him off guard. I used the van he'd hit earlier to become his gravitational pull and yanked. He went slamming into it and groaned. When he tried to get back up, I was already five steps ahead of him. Morphing the earth metals in the van, I contorted it into a shell that crushed Spider-Man until he was covered and stuck.
I heard Scott say that he was gonna tear himself in half over the earpiece. I got distracted from holding Spider-Man down and turned to see a giant Scott. Spider-Man broke free. He tore the shell off himself and threw it at me. I was wacked across the side and fell the the ground again.
"Holy shit!" he says, looking at Scott. His back was to me and I gave him one last wind push. He fell on his face and I laughed. "Oh come on, don't you have some dolls to play with or something?" I just scoffed and walked past him, stepping past his hand that was on the ground. He let out a yelp and you kept walking. Dolls, I thought. I'm thirteen I don't play with dolls. I watched as the rest of the battle went down. I wasn't quite sure what to do. I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Natasha was standing just behind me. "Come with me." We started jogging off. It was natural for me to listen to her. I realized about five seconds in that technically she was my enemy right about now, but I shrugged it off. I ran through the fight, past the big Scott and towards a warehouse. I could see the outline of a jet get bigger as I approached it. Natasha stopped behind the entrance. She was waiting.
"So what do we do?" I asked.
"We wait to fight," She replied, not taking her eyes off the horizon. I came to realize this probably means I would be fighting her. Maybe she wanted to use me as a hostage or something. No, that's silly. Right?
Steve and Bucky got closer to the building I was in. They nearly made it until Vision laser beamed the shit out of a nearby communications tower. Wanda caught it before it fell, giving the two men time to race towards the jet. I stepped out to help Wanda. The both of us were able to hold the rubble long enough for Steve and Bucky to get through. I panted, proud of myself for getting this far.
A searing pain sliced through my brain. Both myself and Wanda fell to the ground, screaming. I could barely look up to see that Rhodey was sending some sort of wave through the air. The tower fell and Natasha was quick to haul me out of the way before I got crushed. I might be better than Spider-Man, but I definitely don't have his super strength.
Steve and Bucky still managed to get through the falling paces of metal and concrete. Natasha left my side and marched swiftly towards the two men. I couldn't hear them, but I could sense the tension from a mile away. Natasha lifted her arm, taser aimed and ready. Steve held his shield up in defense as Natasha shoots....the Black Panther? I guess she's on our side now? The jet started to take off and you watch an Natasha continues to battle the Panther. I fell to my side, wiped out.
My father flew into the warehouse just as the jet leaves. You thought maybe he was going to fight Natasha for betraying him. I was wrong. He was coming for me. He landed beside me and dropped to his knees. His helmet closed and I could see the worry plastered on his cut up face. He knelt beside me and gently held me up.
"Are you okay?" he asked. I nodded, not really able to make words. He looked over at Natasha, who was looking at us. She had an apologetic look, but I know she doesn't regret letting Cap go. My father let me go and charged off after the jet plane. I lied down, enjoying the feeling of cold concrete against your skin. I closed my eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I paced around the living room, driving Nat crazy. I knew that the second my father got home I would be in deep shit. So when Friday alerted me that Tony was home my heart rate went up 29373%. The battle, this fight, it ended worse then I could have imagined. Natasha told me that my father could have died. Rhodey was paralyzed from the waist down. I had no idea if I'd ever see my Pops again. This was bad. Very, very bad.
I slowly walked down the main hall towards the front doors. I was scared. My hands and the back of my neck were sweating. I knew exactly what was coming. Every time I had asked my dad if I could be an honorary Avenger, I got the same lecture. That it was too dangerous, I didn't have the proper training and it's too much for his little girl to handle. Even when I asked to just be a part of the business side of the team, Tony laughed and said no. I've broken a lot of my father's rules, but this was the line. And I had gone so far over.
As I approached the front door, I could hear my father speaking. I heard another voice too. My heart dropped. It was Spider-Man. Why was Spider-Man here? I ducked behind a wall and listened in to the conversation.
"...outstanding job kid. Your fighting technique was on par. And, listen, I know we're not allowed to have kids on this team, but if we need you again, we'll call." I heard my father say.
"Thanks Mr. Stark. This was so cool," Spider-Man replied. I wondered if he had his suit on or not. I wanted to know who this guy was. I revealed myself from behind the wall. The two looked at me. I looked at my father first and fought the urge to burst into tears. He looked awful. His face was all cut up and the black eye he got was still a little swollen. I glanced at the figure beside him and frowned. Spider-Man was a kid. He looked like he was my age. He had a mop of curly brown hair and doe eyes. He was almost equally as beat up as my dad and I gracefully took credit for that.
"Y/n, this is Peter. He's, uh, one of my interns. Kid, this is Y/n," Tony said. My annoyance turned to anger. Now my father was lying to me?
"How old are you?" I asked, eyes narrowing. I knew that I sounded rude, but this kid had kicked me in the face twice. I didn't think he deserved my manners.
"I'm fourteen," Peter gulped. A year older than me. And I kicked his ass, I thought. "You gave me quite a fight back in Berlin."
"Yeah and I beat your ass doing it."
"Speaking of which," Tony spoke up, "I have to talk to Y/n about that. Happy will take you home Peter." Peter nodded and said goodbye to my father. He said goodbye to me, to which I didn't reply. Peter frowned at that as he walked out the door.
My dad turned to me when the door shut. "What," he began, "were you thinking?"
"Well I-"
"No. This is where you listen. Do you know how dangerous that mission was. Do you know how many people got hurt? You saw what happened to Rhodey, that could have been you!"
"But it wasn't" I retorted.
Tony's frown deepened. "That is not the point. You put yourself in serious danger, and for what? So you could feel a little more included? You could have died. This was my one rule, my one ask of you, and your broke it."
"Oh, come on now, I'm a Stark, it's in our blood to not listen to our fathers." My father gave me the coldest look and I shut down. I took a deep breath. "Look, I didn't know that it was gonna be this bad. You know me, daddy, I'm not a fighter, I'm not some hero. You think I would have gone if I knew it would turn out like this? I thought this was just gonna be another one your you and Pops' stupid fights. And yes, I could have gotten hurt, but I think I handled myself pretty well. You saw what I did you that little protege of yours. I beat him to the curb."
"Y/n you were reckless. Peter was prepared for this, he was ready."
"And I still beat him."
"Y/n you're not listening to me. This is why I chose Peter over you. I would have taken you if I knew you wouldn't do something stupid. But you did anyway." And with that he walked away, leaving me, teary-eyed in the front hall.
Tony came by my room later that night to apologize. He said that he was sorry for being harsh, that he just cared about me and I scared him. I knew he meant it and I forgave him, because that's what we do. Besides, it wasn't Tony I was angry with. This is why I chose Peter over you. Tony's words echoed through my head. I knew that he loved me more, I'm his daughter, he had to. But I were jealous. Jealous that stupid Peter Parker got the praise for the work I've wanted to hear for ages. And mad at that stupid spider for being stupid.
This is when I decided that I hate Peter Parker.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker#peter parker imagine#marvel fanfic#spiderman fanfic#fanfiction#marvel#mcu#enemies to lovers#one shot#spiderman homecoming#captain america civil war#spiderman far from home#stark!daughter#tony stark#tony stark's daughter#tom holland#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x reader#natasha romanoff#steve rogers#clint barton#wanda maximoff#black widow#captian america#hawkeye#scarlet witch
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The Sunrise and Your Sins | Chapter 2 (NSFW)
!!!! Link to Chapter 1 !!!!
AAAHHH thank you to everyone who read my first chapter!!! I’m sorry for the super long delay on chapter 2, I’ve been recovering from a car accident so this fanfic kind of lost it’s priority bc I’ve been in pain lol. But I’m feeling better now so new chapters should be coming out faster!
From this chapter forward, there will be explicit sexual content meant for audiences 18+ so minors please do not engage! or engage and just don’t tell me idk
All links to car visuals and playlists and art and tags and all that jazz can be found in chapter 1 :)
Word Count: 14k
New Tags: consensual sex, oral sex(giving and receiving), brat and dom, choking, breeding kink, face sitting
‘You free this weekend?’ you read the text off of your phone. You groggily glance at the time, which read 3:33 AM.
‘Depends.’ you respond back to Kuroo. Two and a half weeks had passed since the last job he worked, meaning it had been two and half weeks since you had seen him and discussed your suspicions about your father.
‘Friend of mine is throwing a party. Karasuno Killers are gonna be there.’ Kuroo replies. Your pulse quickens, remembering the conversation you and Kuroo had about your brother and his racing team.
‘I’ll be there.’ you pause before hitting send, questioning if the action you were tempted to make was a good idea. ‘Are you free rn?’ you type, pressing send and locking your phone, setting it down next to you as you stared up at the ceiling. Your heart raced at even the thought of Kuroo, of the idea of being in his presence alone again.
Your phone lit up seconds later. ‘Be there in 15.’ You can feel yourself blushing, and you can’t stop the grin that spread across your face.
You practically jump out of bed, changing into something casual. A flash of red catches your eye, and you grab Kuroo’s jacket, draping it over your shoulders. You sit back down in bed, impatiently waiting for Kuroo to text you.
After what felt like an eternity, you finally got a text from him. ‘Here princess.’ You smirk at the use of the nickname, you were starting to get used to hearing him call you princess, and you couldn’t deny the fact that you liked it.
Moving quietly through the house, you quickly peer over to your father’s office to see if the lights were on. Long work nights were common with him, the only downside being that the computer with access to the security cameras was in that office. Lucky for you, he seemed to be asleep upstairs, so that was one less thing to worry about.
“Hey there.” Kuroo’s deep voice practically echoed through the quiet night, and you quickly shush him as you lock the front door. He laughs, holding the car door open for you. He shuts it behind you and goes around to his side, climbing in and starting the car.
“So, where to?” He asks, turning to you, his elbow resting against the center console, a huge grin spread across his face.
“Anywhere.” You say, anxious to get away from your house, away from your father. It gave you chills thinking about your brother and the connections that were beginning to form, with your father only a few feet away at times. You tried your hardest to act as normal as possible around him, but you knew that eventually he would catch on to your sudden change in behavior.
“Are you hungry?” Kuroo asks, pulling out his phone and unlocking it. You take a peek at his lock screen, and see a photo of a black cat staring back at you.
You shrug. “I could eat.” You say, causing Kuroo to chuckle.
“I know the perfect place.” He says, calling someone. “Hey Haiba, you guys still open?” He pauses as the person named Haiba responds. “Perfect. I’ll be there in 20. Save a table for two.” He pauses yet again. “No you ass, not for Kenma. I’m bringing a girl.” He says, hanging up the phone.
You laugh at the interaction between them, looking over at Kuroo as he pulls out of the driveway and through the neighborhood. Kuroo glances over at you, smirking when he realizes you were already looking. You quickly look away, staring ahead intensely.
“You look cute in my jacket.” He says.
“Does that mean I get to keep it?” You ask playfully, smiling sweetly at him. He laughs, a big grin on his face.
“I’ll tell you what. You can keep it, but I will need to borrow it from time to time for races. Fair?” He says, holding a hand out for you to shake as he keeps the other on the wheel.
“Sounds good to me.” You say, grabbing his hand and shaking it. Your fingers graze over the callouses and scars on his knuckles, and you turn his hand over to examine them.
“Just some work related injuries.” He jokes, squeezing your hand.
“These are from working for my dad?” You ask, your voice quiet, almost out of shame.
“Yeah.” He responds. You couldn’t hide the painful expression on your face and Kuroo quickly took notice of it. “Nothing to worry about though, princess. I’m tougher than I look, I promise.” He says, winking. Kuroo brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss, making your heart skip a beat and your cheeks glow red.
He lets go of your hand to switch gears as you enter the city. There are no shops that appear to be open and no one on the street. Kuroo slows down, pulling into a parking lot.
“It doesn’t look like anything’s open.” You state as Kuroo gets out of the car.
“Looks can be deceiving.” He says, shutting his car door. You let yourself out, closing the door behind you and turning towards him. He takes your hand and leads you to a small shop with a sign that reads “Haiba Ramen”. From the outside it had looked as though it was closed, but as soon as Kuroo swung the door open, you realized it was anything but.
There were plenty of people in there, almost all of them wearing racing jackets of different colors, the style similar to Kuroo’s. The smell of ramen was strong and welcoming, your hunger growing as you entered the shop.
“DK!” You hear someone call out. The patrons of the ramen shop all turn their heads to look at the both of you, and you were met by a chorus of greetings.
“Someone’s popular.” You quietly comment to him as he leads you to a table away from the crowds.
“Haiba’s part of Nekoma Crew, part time mechanic, part time ramen shop owner. He’s better at cooking than fixing cars though.” Kuroo motions towards the other patrons in the shop. “These are all racers. The store is closed to the public at 10, but stays open for friends and racers until 5. Me and the team usually have our meetings and get togethers here.”
“Well who else would let you fuckers in this late at night?” A tall guy with silver hair says, placing two waters on the table. Kuroo gets up to greet him.
“We’re eternally grateful Lev.” Kuroo jokes, giving Lev a half hug. Lev rolls his eyes as Kuroo sits back down.
“Hi.” You say shyly, giving a small wave to Lev, who smiled down at you.
“You must be…(y/n).” Lev says holding a hand out for you to shake.
You scrunch your eyebrows together, shaking his hand. “Uh, how do you know my name?” You ask skeptically, curious as to how he already knew you.
“DK won’t stop talking about you at the shop. Sometimes it’s like he can’t shut up about you.” Lev smirks, looking over at Kuroo. You look at Kuroo with a face of fake shock, grinning from ear to ear. You see his ears growing red as he avoids your gaze.
“Your tip is rapidly decreasing the longer this conversation goes on for.” Kuroo says, making you laugh. Lev scoffs, mockingly putting his hands up.
“Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want to third wheel on your date any longer anyways. Now, what would you two love birds like to eat?”
Kuroo sighs, putting his face in his hands in distress. The entire exchange made you laugh, getting to see Kuroo as a normal guy instead of a mob henchman was refreshing. Friends, not colleagues. Race cars, not drugs. Not to mention, it gives you butterflies thinking about the fact he talks about you to his crew.
“Surprise me.” You say, catching Lev’s attention. “Make me whatever you think I’d like. Or whatever you feel like making. I promise I’ll eat anything.” Lev grins brightly, turning towards Kuroo.
“I like her. Don’t screw this up!” Lev calls out to Kuroo as he walks away to the kitchen to start on whatever it was he would choose to serve you.
“So you talk about me, huh?” You say, smirking at Kuroo.
“Maybe.” He says, cheekily grinning at you. “You don’t talk about me to your friends?”
“I...don’t have friends.” You say, shrugging. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t really leave the house much.”
“You don’t have any friends?” Kuroo asks, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Nope.” You say, taking a sip of your water. “I mean, I had friends in high school. But I sort of drifted away from them after graduation and after my brother died.”
Kuroo nods, knowing that your brother’s death was a touchy topic. “Well, you have to have someone to talk to. Someone you consider a friend.” He says, diverting the conversation away from the dark and depressing stuff.
You thought to yourself for a second, trying to think of a person you found yourself spending time with and talking to, or even someone that you enjoy being around. “You.” You answer, smiling at Kuroo. “You’re kinda the only person I ever talk to.”
Kuroo smiles back at you, letting out a small chuckle. “I’m honored, princess.” Kuroo takes your hand in his, planting another gentle kiss on the top of your hand, making you blush.
“Are you usually up this late?” You ask, getting curious about Kuroo and his life away from you and your family.
He shrugs, rubbing small circles along your knuckles. “Some nights, if I have a job or if I’m working on something with Kenma. Tonight I just happened to get a text from a friend about the party this weekend, I thought it’d be a good way for you to get in contact with Karasuno.”
“Who’s party is it?”
“A good friend of mine, Kotarou Bokuto. He’s the leader of Fukurodani Squad, his racing name is Blackjack.” Kuroo answers.
“Is he…” You pause, wondering the best way to ask if Bokuto’s a criminal.
“No.” Kuroo says before you can finish your sentence. “He’s just a racer. Him and his crew are pretty well known internationally, so all his income comes from his shop. He’s...just a really good guy. Not a bad bone in his body.”
“Oh, so you do have normal friends.” You say sarcastically.
“Well, Fukurodani and Karasuno are the normal teams. They don’t do the shady stuff. Seijoh Brawlers and Nekoma Crew are pretty similar, since only me and Oikawa do the jobs. Kenma gets involved every once and awhile, but it's rare. Inarizaki though, they’re literally all drug dealers. Drug dealers who happen to also be racers.” Kuroo explains.
“That would explain why Kita doesn’t have a fancy jacket.” You say, remembering the plain black hoodie he wore the last time you saw him. “So it’s just you, Oikawa, and Kita doing the shady stuff?”
“Yeah, mainly just us. I promise not all racers are big bad guys.” Kuroo jokes to you.
“You’re not a bad guy.” You say, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re just...someone who works for a bad guy. Bad guy adjacent.” You smile at him, knowing that one of the things that held Kuroo back from pursuing anything with you was the fact he saw himself as the villain. The truth was, maybe the both of you were just bad guy adjacent — not necessarily the villains, but stuck being attached to the bad.
Kuroo gives you a sad smile, squeezing your hand back. “I guess that’s better than being the evil genius.” You knew exactly who he was talking about, who the evil genius was in this morbid epic that is your life. The mastermind, the puppeteer, the dark hand behind the curtain. Your father. It was a hard pill to swallow, but it was one that you had to, which you and Kuroo both knew. An unspoken acknowledgement of the fact that sooner or later, you would have to face your demons — that regardless of what, or who, they are — Kuroo would be right there beside you.
Your moment with Kuroo was interrupted by Lev, walking out of the kitchen carrying a plate and a bowl. “Bon appetit love birds.” He says, placing a bowl of ramen in front of Kuroo and a plate of chicken wings in front of you.
“Thanks Lev. Put it on the shop’s tab.” Kuroo says, digging into his ramen.
“Thanks Lev.” You say, smiling and picking up a chicken wing. It was still steaming, hot and fresh from the fryer.
“I hope you two enjoy. DK, you gonna be at Blackjack’s party this Saturday?” Lev asks, turning towards Kuroo.
“Yeah, we’ll be there. Do you know who the party’s for?” Kuroo asks, picking up a soft boiled egg from his ramen and eating it.
Lev shrugs, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. “No clue. That guy just throws parties for the hell of it. I’ll see you both there!” He says, walking back towards the kitchen.
You take a bite of the chicken wing, and you instantly understand why Kuroo said he was a great cook. “Holy shit.” You say, looking over at Kuroo.
Kuroo peers over at you with a mouth full of noodles. “I know.” He says, mouth stuffed to the brim. He finishes chewing and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “A guy on my crew named Yamamoto always gets them. Same with Bokuto.”
“It seems like you know everyone in Tokyo.” You say, digging into your big plate of wings. Lev also left you a small bowl of rice as well as a cup of miso soup, which you also began digging into.
Kuroo laughs, picking up more noodles from his bowl. “If they race, I know them.”
“It also seems like everyone knows you.” You say, thinking back to when you first entered the shop, and all the greetings Kuroo was met with.
“Well, everyone kinda does. Y’know a title like Drift King isn’t just given to anyone.” He says, smirking at you. You roll your eyes at his arrogance.
“How lucky am I to be sharing a meal with the great Drift King.” You say jokingly. Kuroo places his chopsticks down, looking across the table at you.
“Is this not a date?” He asks seriously, eyebrows furrowed. You practically choke on your chicken, which you place down on the table. After wiping your hands on a napkin, you look at Kuroo, who was still staring at you intensely.
“Was it supposed to be?” You ask shyly, unsure if the miscommunication was on your end or his.
“Well, I kind of assumed, you asked if I was free. Now we’re eating a meal together. You never really fight it when people talk to us like a couple.” Kuroo says, fidgeting with his spoon that laid in the broth of his ramen.
You pause for a second, thinking over what he just said. You avert his gaze, staring into your miso soup which had begun to settle and separate. “Did you...want this to be a date?” You ask, looking up at him skeptically.
“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to it being a date.” He answers carefully, but with a tone of confidence. “But, if you don’t want it to be, that’s fine.” He says quickly, trying to avoid a bad mood shift between the two of you.
You pondered again over what he said, and what it would mean for the two of you. Is a relationship the right thing to get into with everything going on? Would it even be appropriate for the two of you to be together?
“This is a date.” You say, your heart pounding away anxiously as you look into Kuroo’s hypnotizing hazel eyes. He grins proudly at you, all feelings of anxiety going away as soon as you confirmed that this was, in fact, a date. “But, it is just a date. It doesn’t mean anything...specific.”
He shrugs, picking his chopsticks up to continue eating. “That’s fair. No worries, princess. I’m in no rush here.”
You smile to yourself, content with the conclusion that you and Kuroo came to. “Thanks. I just don’t think I’m ready for anything serious right now. With everything going on with my dad.” You say, knowing that this was something Kuroo already knew.
“Yeah, I get it. Bigger fish to fry right now. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” He says, winking at you.
The two of you had continued to eat in silence, occupied with the delicious food in front of you. At one point, Kuroo had placed a small bundle of noodles into a spoon of broth, holding it out for you.
“Aw, for me?” You say, leaning over to take the bite. The ramen was perfect, apparently everything Lev made was incredible.
“What kind of guy doesn’t share his food with his beautiful date?” He says, making you smile.
“I guess that means you deserve a chicken wing.” You say playfully, placing a wing in the empty bowl that once held your miso soup. “You should feel special, I really don’t share my food.”
The two of you had finished your meals in silence, simply enjoying one another’s company. It feels as though this small outing was a break from the reality you both dread — rather than playing detective or operating within a gang, you were just a couple out on a date.
“We better come back here one of these days.” You say, stacking your empty dishes up. You and Kuroo had finished everything, full and happy, now starting to get sleepy. The other racers in the shop had already left, and you could hear Lev cleaning in the kitchen.
“Fine by me. As long as you still consider it a date.” Kuroo says, getting up from his seat and stretching. You get up as well, and Kuroo holds out a hand for you to take, which you do. Walking alongside him with his hand in yours, you grab onto his arm with your other hand, feeling especially affectionate towards him.
“See you later Haiba!” Kuroo calls out as the two of you exit the shop, the cool night air breezing past your face, waking you up.
You let go of Kuroo’s hand to open up your car door, and Kuroo walks around to his side and climbs in. As he turns on the car, the clock reads 5:05 AM.
“It’s pretty late.” You comment, realizing how tired you had gotten. You lay your head against the car seat, turning your head to look at Kuroo.
“Yeah, I know. Do you wanna go home now?” He asks, turning towards you to see your drooping eyelids.
“Hmmm… not just yet. How about you drop me off when the sun comes up?” You ask sleepily.
“Whatever you want princess.” Kuroo says quietly, starting the car. You rest your eyes as Kuroo begins driving off, feeling content as you drift off to the sound of Kuroo switching gears. You never thought that you’d ever be comfortable enough to fall asleep in someone’s car, given how paranoid your brother’s death had made you. But with Kuroo, you were just so at home, so trusting of him. You almost couldn’t believe that before your first job with Kuroo, you just saw him as the hot guy who worked for your dad.
Before you knew it, you were being gently awoken by Kuroo, the sun beginning to peak over the horizon. You didn’t recognize your surroundings, but you weren’t at all worried. There was never anything to worry about if Kuroo was with you.
“Where are we?” You ask, looking around. It appeared as though Kuroo took you to a park, a bit away from the city.
“We had some time to kill, I figured you’d want to see the sunrise.” He says, unbuckling his seat belt and turning to look out to the horizon. You do the same, sitting up in your seat and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
After a few moments, you recognize the park Kuroo took you to. “When I was younger, my mom would take me and my brother here.” You say, memories coming back to you. You thought it was strange, how everything seemed to be leading back to your brother lately. It almost felt like a sign.
“I used to come here a lot too, with Kenma. Maybe we ran into each other once.” Kuroo says, leaning against the armrest. You gently lay your head against his shoulder, wrapping both of your arms around his.
“What a coincidence that we ended up here.” You say softly, relishing the moment between the two of you. The sun’s rays were barely peeking over the horizon, giving the sky an orange glow. There was a decent amount of overcast, so it gave the sun a softness to it. It was as though the sky was still drowsy, unprepared to make its first appearance for the day.
“No place I’d rather be.” Kuroo says, barely louder than a whisper. He tenderly places a kiss on the top of your head, staying there for a second longer than expected.
You slowly move your head up to look at him, your faces closer than they have ever been before. At this distance, you could really study the features on his beautiful face, the dark bags under his eyes from one too many late nights, the small scar on his cheek that was most likely from a job gone wrong, his dark lashes that framed the striking hazel eyes that now stared directly into your own.
You thought about all the other people that had stared into the same set of eyes you were now gazing into — all the women who knew him intimately, the friends who saw the good in him, the enemies who saw the evil, those whose last moments were spent looking down the barrel of a gun into these hazel eyes. To them, it probably felt like staring into the gates of hell, but for you, it felt like home. Kuroo felt like home.
His lips slowly graze against yours, almost tentative, trying to read the situation as it happens in real time. A simple ask, a gentle whisper of a question against your lips, inquiring if this was okay.
In a surge of confidence, your lips crash against his, urgency in your kiss, borderline desperation. Had you been pining for Kuroo all this time? More importantly, was he?
His hand gently made its way up to your face, as yours snaked behind his neck, pulling him closer. His other hand moved underneath his jacket that you wore, wrapping around your waist. You felt the calluses on his fingertips, rough against the smooth skin of your lower back.
The sun began beaming into the car, bringing the both of you into the light. It felt euphoric, being bathed in morning sun as you kissed Kuroo. Your heart raced in excitement as you felt Kuroo smile against your lips, and you gently sigh as he pulls away to look into your eyes.
He grins at you, his eyes studying every detail of your face. You smile back at him, feeling pure bliss.
“You kinda taste like chicken wings.” Kuroo says, chuckling softly. He gently runs his thumb against your cheek, admiring your face.
You close your eyes, shaking your head at his stupid comment. You laugh, realizing that the goofiness, the silly jokes and banter that you and Kuroo share is the reason why there were never any doubts in your mind with him. Kuroo could make you laugh despite all the darkness in your life, and that is what made you feel the way you felt. Maybe it was love, but maybe it was too soon to tell. Maybe being the girl in the passenger seat was enough for you at this time.
“Well you taste like ramen.” You say, your voice hoarse.
“What a pair we make.” Kuroo says, placing one last tender kiss on your lips.
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“Sweetheart, come here for a moment.” You hear your father call out to you from the hallway. You let yourself into his office, and find Kuroo sitting in the chair in front of his desk.
“What’s going on?” You ask tentatively, sitting next to Kuroo.
“Your dad has some questions. About us.” Kuroo says.
“Us?” You question, looking at Kuroo. He wore a poker face perfectly, staring directly at your father with an unwavering gaze.
“I know you two are getting close. And (y/n), sweetheart, you know I trust you. And Tetsurou, you have earned my trust over the years with your loyalty to this family. I just need to know what exactly is happening with you two.” Your father says.
“We’re friends.” You say quickly, crossing your arms defensively.
“Friends?” Kuroo asks, breaking his cool demeanor to look over at you. Your father raises an eyebrow, looking between you and Kuroo curiously as you try to figure out what this relationship is.
“Maybe more than friends. Someday. Not right this moment. But a strong maybe.” You answer shortly, fumbling over your words.
“I see.” Your father sees, nodding his head. “Are you two...being safe?”
“Dad!” You say, embarrassed by this interrogation.
“Yes, sir. Well, there hasn’t been anything that requires...safety, but when it does — IF! If it does, we will be safe. You have my word.” Kuroo says. You could hear his nerves getting the best of him, and you couldn’t help but find it entertaining how scared he sounds as he practically word vomits to your father.
“Good.” Your father says shortly, awkwardly adjusting in his seat. “Now, for business...I don’t know if I’m okay with (y/n) being seen with you.”
“What?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Our family is a moving target for a lot of people, especially the Nohebi Clan. I don’t know if it’s the best idea for the two of you to be going out in public.”
“I understand, sir.” Kuroo says, in his eyes you could see his disappointment.
“Dad, that’s ridiculous.” You say, getting fed up with the passivity of the conversation. “I’m going to be leading the Sakanoshita family one day. I’m a target no matter what. But no one will take me seriously when I do take over if I’m locked away all the time. People need to know me. They need to know who’s going to be the next King of Tokyo.”
“But you just had your first job. You’re jumping into this too quickly.” Your father argues.
“Keishin had years of training. I’m playing a game of catch up here, and I think the more experience I have, the better. I can’t run an empire from the confines of this house, dad.” Again, playing the dead brother card. It’s a tricky one to play, but it always works.
Your father sighs, folding his hands in front of him. “You sure know how to argue.”
“I learned from the best.” You say, smirking.
“I’ll make a deal with you.” Your father turns toward Kuroo. “You’re getting a promotion. You’re now (y/n)’s bodyguard. She goes somewhere, you follow. If she wants to go somewhere that is potentially dangerous, don’t allow it. And you.” He turns back towards you once more. “You don’t go anywhere without him. You can go out, be social, earn your place here as a Sakanoshita. Let people learn who’s the next King of Tokyo.”
You grin, knowing that you would be able to reach an agreement with your father. “Sounds like a deal. Kuroo and I will be going to a party this Saturday.”
As you proudly saunter out of your father’s office, he calls out a question. “What party?”
“Racer party. Gotta make sure everyone knows the new Sakanoshita boss.” You call out, walking out the door and down the hallway, leaving Kuroo and your father to their business meeting.
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You could hear the party before you could see it, the music blasting so loud it could be heard from down the street. Even this far from the house, there were already cars parked along the side, all shiny and suped up like Kuroo’s. A lot of time had passed since your last real social outing, but you were at ease knowing Kuroo would be there with you.
“Just a fair warning, Bokuto is...very loud.” Kuroo says, slowly driving past all the cars and making his way to the driveway of the house. The house was very modern, with a long driveway leading up to a white home with a balcony in the front, huge windows letting you peek in to see all the people inside. The music continued to grow louder and louder as you drew closer to the house, and the cars got nicer as well. Apparently only the people with fancy cars got the good parking spots.
“How loud are we talking?” You ask Kuroo as he puts the car in park and turns the engine off.
“Like...imagine the exact polar opposite of Kenma. Then make it louder. That’s Bokuto.” Kuroo explains as he gets out of the car. You do the same, walking over to his side and grabbing his hand. The two of you walk up the stairs to the door, and Kuroo swings it open without knocking. And just like that, you were officially at your first street racer party.
“Hey, it’s DK!” You hear someone shout distantly, followed by a chorus of greetings. It was just like the ramen shop, everyone being so quick to greet Kuroo.
“Hey everyone.” Kuroo says loudly, greeting everyone at once. He pulls your hand so you’re standing in front of him, leading the way into the party. Everyone gawks at you as Kuroo places a hand on your waist, coaxing you to walk further into the house.
“Does everyone know you? Should I start getting used to that sort of greeting?” You ask, maneuvering your way through the crowd.
Kuroo laughs, giving your belt loop a tug and pulling you into him, your back crashing into his strong chest. “Eventually people will start saying DK and (y/n).” He says into your ear, kissing you on the cheek. You smirk at his comment, a part of you enjoyed the attention everyone was giving you as Kuroo held you against his body. He really knew every way to feed into your ego, and you really did love it.
“HEY HEY HEY! IS THAT MY BOY DK?!” you hear a loud, chaotic voice say from the kitchen. You and Kuroo turn your heads to find the source, and you see a tall, muscular guy with spiky grey hair grinning at the both of you. You notice the grey bomber jacket he wore, meaning that he was a racer like Kuroo and Oikawa. His appearance was a bit intimidating, and his features were almost...owl-like.
“BOKUTO!” Kuroo yells, letting go of your hand to greet the host of the party. The two tall, well built men embrace in a hug, clapping each other on the back. You stand there, smiling at this new side of Kuroo. You understood what he meant by Bokuto making him feel more normal.
“Good to see you dude! Hey, Lev mentioned you were bringing a girl! Where is she?!” Bokuto asks excitedly, looking around to try and spot you.
“Right here.” You answer, moving to stand next to Kuroo. “I’m (y/n). And I’m assuming you’re the infamous Bokuto?”
Bokuto laughs, throwing his head back. “Infamous, eh? That must mean DK’s been talking about me.”
“I figured I should warn her on what she’d be walking into.” Kuroo says slyly, wrapping an arm around you. You found it endearing how affectionate Kuroo acts with you, making sure to keep you close.
“Glad I didn’t scare ya away.” Bokuto jokes, grinning at you. “Well, DK here is like a brother to me, so by extension that makes you family. Both of you just make yourselves right at home, drink whatever you want and let me know if you need anything. Mi casa es su casa, as Cypher would say. Well, he probably wouldn’t say that, but it’s definitely Spanish.”
You laugh, smiling up at Bokuto. Kuroo was right, he really is just a genuinely nice guy. Bokuto was a refreshing change from the usual dark and scary stuff that you and Kuroo dealt with.
“Say, speaking of Cypher, where is the punk?” Kuroo asks, looking around.
“Upstairs with the rest of the Brawlers. Your guys are out back. Say, you guys want anything to drink?” Bokuto asks, turning to the counter full of liquor.
“None for me. Gotta make sure someone gets home safe.” Kuroo says, squeezing your shoulder.
“Well look at you being all chivalrous!” Bokuto says, playfully punching Kuroo’s arm. “Anything for you, (y/n)?”
“Sure, I’ll drink whatever.” You say, unsure of what to ask for. High school parties were one thing, but what the hell are you supposed to drink at a street racer’s party?
“One mystery drink coming right up.” Bokuto says, turning around. “Akaashi!”
A handsome guy with short dark brown hair turns at the sound of his name. “Can you make a drink for (y/n) pretty please?” Bokuto asks, grinning at him. Akaashi nods, putting his cup down and picking up an empty one for you. He pours some random bottles of liquor and some more random juices into a cup, handing it to you.
“Thanks.” You say, taking the cup. You take a sip, and to your surprise, it wasn’t disgusting.
“Akaashi’s kinda the drink expert. And car expert. He’s kinda good at everything.” Bokuto says, noticing your look of amazement. Akaashi rolls his eyes behind him, but you notice his ears flushing red at Bokuto’s compliment. “I’m gonna go be a good host and do my host thing, but I’ll find you two later!” Bokuto turns away from the both of you, walking towards the crowd of people outside.
“Oh and DK!” Bokuto calls out loudly, making plenty of people turn towards Kuroo. “I’m glad to see you’re finally off the market! No more bachelor’s life for you!”
“Bachelor’s life?” You question, looking up at him skeptically. Prying eyes peered over at the two of you, no doubt trying to sneak a peek at the great DK and the girl that took him off the market.
“Don’t worry about it.” He answers, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. Of course he was a lady’s man before you, just look at him. But just how many girls were in your place before you got there?
Kuroo takes your hand, leading you upstairs to where Cypher was. The two of you found him lounging on a couch with a bunch of other guys wearing jackets similar to his, talking and laughing with a bottle of expensive looking tequila in his hand.
“Hola amigo.” Kuroo says in a mocking tone, sitting next to Cypher. You sit next to Kuroo, and he puts his arm around you possessively.
“Hola lovers.” Oikawa slurs, lazily placing an arm around Kuroo. “Good to see you didn’t scare princesa away.” He says, nodding to you.
“You’re (y/n).” You hear someone say from the opposite end of the couch. You turn your head to see a guy with tan skin and short spiky brown hair staring at you.
“Uh, yeah.” You say, caught off guard by how many people already knew you. Seriously, how often did Kuroo talk about you?
“Oh, sorry.” He says, appearing to snap himself out of deep thought. “Cypher was telling us about the last job and mentioned you. Just put two and two together. I’m Iwaizumi.” He says, getting up and extending a hand to you. You shake his hand, smiling at him.
“That’s right, I was telling a story! Now, as I was saying…” Oikawa continues on, recounting the events of the job that you accompanied them on, silver tequila sloshing around in the glass bottle as Oikawa wildly gestures with his hands as the story progresses.
“So Sly Fox had the cargo the entire time?” Iwaizumi asks, looking at us skeptically.
“The entire time.” Kuroo says, nodding. “Speaking of the Sly Fox, where is he?”
“Outside with your crew.” a scary looking guy with deep set eyes answers. His hair looked very unique, a bleach blonde buzz cut with two black stripes running around his head.
“Thanks Mad Dog.” Kuroo says, getting up, dragging you with him. “Cypher, let’s go. Got some work talk to do with Sly Fox.” Oikawa clumsily gets up, taking the tequila with him.
The three of you walk down the stairs and out the backdoor, where you immediately see a group of guys sitting around a fire pit, half of them wearing black, and the other half wearing Nekoma bombers.
“Sly Fox!” Kuroo calls out, getting Kita’s attention. He looks up from his rolling tray, blunt in hand. “We got some business to talk about. You too, Snake Eyes.” He says, pointing at Kenma.
Kita nods, looking over at his guys and motioning for them to leave the area. Kuroo does the same, and the Nekoma Crew minus Kenma leave. You, Oikawa, and Kuroo each take a seat around the fire.
“What are we talking about?” Kenma asks, looking over at you and Kuroo. Kita continues to roll, and Oikawa slouches in his seat, taking sips from his bottle.
“Yeah, what are we talking about fellas?!” Bokuto says with a grin on his face, walking up to the group of you and grabbing a seat. You couldn’t help but smile at his behavior, his charisma.
“Work stuff, Bokuto.” Kuroo answers, giving Bokuto a warning look.
“Oh! Got it! Say no more, plausible deniability and all that jazz. You guys let me know if you need me!” He says, getting up immediately and walking away with haste. The entire time the grin on his face never wavered, he didn’t seem the least bit offended by being kicked out of the conversation.
“Bokuto knows the stuff we do, but we keep him out of it. He’s...a bit soft for our line of work. And he knows if he hears anything, he could get in trouble. So, he stays away.” Kita explains, licking his rolling paper and sealing the blunt.
“We got some new intel from the boss.” Kuroo says. Oikawa sits up, paying attention now that the real business talk had started. “We may know who gave the anonymous tip during the last job.”
“Someone we know?” Kenma asks.
Kuroo nods. “Suguru Daishou. Fangs. He’s the lead for the Nohebi Clan.”
“Nohebi?” You ask. Everyone looks over at you. “They used to work for my dad.”
“What happened to them?” Kita asks, lighting his blunt and getting it started.
“Daishou crossed my family, I guess he was trying to make a name for himself by taking on my dad. Didn’t end well.” You say, remembering overhearing your father’s work conversations with Fangs when you were in high school.
“Which would explain the grudge he has, and why he tried to bust us.” Kenma says.
“But how would he know about the move? There were no other cars on the road that night.” Oikawa points out, setting his bottle down.
“That’s the million dollar question. We still don’t know how he knew, but we do know he has eyes on us. Which means you guys and your teams need to be careful, at least until the Daishou problem is sorted out. Sound good?” Kuroo asks, looking at Oikawa and Kita. They both nod, understanding the risk that the Nohebi Clan posed.
“I’ll see what I can find out about Fangs and Nohebi.” Kenma says, which Kuroo nods to.
“Thank you. The more we know, the better.” Kuroo glances at you, meeting your eyes. “Any of you guys know where Karasuno Killers are?” He asks, looking around the group.
“Upstairs living room. You got business with them?” Oikawa asks, looking over at you.
“Something like that.” Kuroo says, taking your hand and standing up. “We’ll catch you guys later.”
“See ya.” You say, giving a half wave with your cup in your hand. You follow behind Kuroo, once again going through the house and up the stairs. You were keenly aware of the eyes that seemed to follow your every move, and you couldn’t help but notice that they were almost entirely female. What, was Kuroo such a hot commodity that you being with him tonight was a headline?
“See that, you pulled the E brake too soon.” You hear someone say from the partially shut door. You and Kuroo had made it to the room that Oikawa said the Karasuno Killers were in.
“You guys watch racing footage at parties?” Kuroo questions, slowly opening the door. Inside, there were three guys sitting on a couch in front of a TV that appeared to be playing a video of a street race.
“Not everyone is blessed with your drifting skills, DK.” One of the guys say, getting up to greet him. He had a warm smile, dark brown eyes, and short brown hair. Him and Kuroo give each other one of those bro hugs, and afterwards he turns to look at you.
“I don’t think we’ve met.” He says, extending his hand to you. “Daichi Sawamura. Mechanic for Karasuno Killers.”
“(y/n) Sakanoshita.” You say, shaking his hand. He raises his eyebrows slightly at surprise, no doubt at the mention of your family name.
“Sakanoshita?” Another guy with a buzzcut and a gruff voice says from behind Daichi.
“As in the King of Tokyo Sakanoshita?!” The third guy says, his voice higher in pitch. He wore his brown hair spiked up, with a single blonde streak right in the middle.
“Please excuse these two dumbasses, they’re not the best socially.” Daichi smiles apologetically, moving to invite you and Kuroo to join them on the couch. Behind you, Kuroo shuts the door.
“You said you’re a Sakanoshita?” The buzzcut one repeats, staring at you intensely.
“Tanaka, chill.” Daichi warns, looking over at him.
“Yeah Tanaka, you’re gonna scare her away.” The guy with the blonde streak jokes, punching Tanaka in the arm.
“Oh shut it, Noya.” Tanaka says, shoving him back. “Sorry. My sister knew someone with that last name.” He says, looking over at you once more.
“You’re Saeko’s brother?” You ask him, getting his attention. He looks surprised, almost a little scared by his sister’s name being mentioned.
“How do you know my sister?” He asks, his voice taking on a threatening tone.
“Yeah, what’s your business with big sis?” Noya asks, eyes darting between you and Kuroo.
“Take it easy, guys. We mean no harm, I swear it on my crew.” Kuroo says in a peaceful tone. Tanaka and Noya lighten up, but continue to stare at you skeptically.
“Keishin Ukai was my brother.” You say, causing the three men from Karasuno to sit straight up, simply from the mention of his name. “I know he dated your sister, and I want to talk to her.”
“No one talks to big sis. Especially not strangers.” Noya says, leaning back against the couch.
“You’re Black Lungs’ sister?” Daichi asks, looking at you with curiosity.
“Yeah. He raced under the name Ukai to get away from my family. And I know about the accident. I’m sorry Tanaka.” You say sincerely, looking at Tanaka. You didn’t know to what extent Saeko was injured, but you assumed that she had to have taken some amount of damage.
Tanaka shrugs, looking away. “It’s all good. Why do you need to talk to my sister?”
“I need to know the truth about my brother. About how he died. And I heard that your sister and my brother were pretty close, I just want to talk to her about him.” You say, nearly begging.
Tanaka sat for a second, thinking of a response. “My sister...she doesn’t talk to many people nowadays. She hasn’t been the same since your brother passed. Black Lung was her soulmate, or whatever.” He says awkwardly, shifting in his seat. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to put her through reliving that night just for your sake. I really am sorry, (y/n), about your brother. He was a cool dude.”
You sigh, taking a long drink from your cup. You had a feeling it would go like this, but you couldn’t help feeling disappointed by the outcome.
“We think we know the truth about his death.” Kuroo says, making everyone in the room look at him. “We know it wasn’t an accident.” You knew he was taking a risk saying this, telling these guys the suspicions you held. He was gamlbing with the only intel the two of you had.
“What do you mean the truth? His death was a tragic accident and that’s that.” Daichi says in an assertive tone.
“Daichi, it’s okay.” Tanaka says quietly, his eyes not moving from your own. “You two know the truth? Or just theories?” He questions you.
“We...have theories. But I think that talking to your sister will help point us in the right direction. Or maybe even give us exactly what we need to prove our theories.” You say, trying your hardest to convince Tanaka.
Tanaka sighs, looking at the TV, which remained paused on a frame of an orange Mitsubishi. “I don’t know.”
“No one knows you.” Noya points out, getting your attention. “You don’t belong to any crew, I know you’re here with DK but you aren’t officially a part of Nekoma. Everyone knows your dad is a shady dude. And Saeko shouldn’t have to relive Black Lung’s death for a stranger.”
“You’re right.” You say, knowing that everything he was saying was correct. You were a stranger, the idea of a dead street racer’s little sister suddenly coming out of hiding to ask a thousand questions about her brother’s death was far fetched, even for you. “You guys have no reason to trust me, or to let me talk to Saeko. But I’m desperate. I just — I need to know what happened to my brother. I’ll do anything.”
“What do you think Saeko would want? What would she have (y/n) do to prove herself?” Kuroo asks.
“I know exactly what she would want.” Tanaka says, sighing and sitting up. “A race. A memorial for Black Lung. We haven’t had one for a while, but the last time she had one, all the money raised from it went to...a memorial fund. For your brother.”
“A memorial fund? For Keishin?” You question, uncertain why the son of a millionaire needed a memorial fund.
“It goes to Saeko. Helps keep the shop open, and funds her research into what happened to your brother.” Daichi answers.
“So I’m not the only one with theories.” You say, beginning to understand. “I’m assuming it goes to P.I.’s, buying access to private files, stuff like that?”
“We can neither confirm nor deny that.” Noya says in a robotic tone, like it was a line he was taught to say.
“If we do the memorial race, who’s racing?” Kuroo asks, changing the topic.
“Me.” You answer immediately, making everyone look at you in shock. “A Black Lung memorial race, with his little sister making her racing debut. It could be big. Raise a lot of money. I know the type of power my family name has in this city.”
“And it would prove to Saeko that you’re serious about meeting her.” Daichi points out.
“Okay, how about this.” Tanaka says, shifting in his seat once more. “You and me, headline race. If we can get some more racers in on this, then great. If you win, you can meet Saeko. If you don’t, then oh well. At least she’ll get some more funds for her...side project.”
“I can get some more racers in on this.” Kuroo says.
“Perfect. We got a deal, you two?” Daichi asks, looking between you and Tanaka. You nod, sticking your hand out.
“Deal.” Tanaka says, shaking your hand.
“Looks like we got a race to plan.” Daichi says, grinning at Kuroo.
Kuroo smirks, getting up. “I’ll go start recruiting some more racers.”
You follow Kuroo, getting up and heading for the door. “I’ll see you on the road, cue ball.” You say, smirking at Tanaka. You slowly head out, leaving the door cracked open.
“HA! CUE BALL! Get it, cause you’re freakin bald!” Noya yells, cackling with laughter. You chuckle, their conservation fading out as you walk with Kuroo back downstairs.
For about an hour or so, you and Kuroo went around the party, mingling with racers, recruiting them for the Black Lung memorial. You got at least enough people for three more races. So far, the lineup was you vs. Tanaka, Kuroo vs. Bokuto, Iwaizumi vs. Atsumu Miya from Inarizaki, and Oikawa vs. Kita. Kuroo pointed out that there would be a good turnout for the memorial given how many great racers were on the bracket, which made you both nervous and hopeful.
“So, since when do you race?” Kuroo asks you, sitting down on the couch.
“I’m pretty sure I can figure it out.” You say, sitting down next to him, draping your legs over his. “Gas pedal makes car go vroom vroom. Seems simple enough.” You joke to him, making him roll his eyes.
“Sounds like someone needs a teacher.” He says, leaning closer to you.
“Sounds like someone wants to teach me.” You say, closing the gap between the two of you, kissing him.
A buzz from your pocket interrupts you, causing you to pull away from Kuroo and take your phone out.
‘Call me now.’ the text read from your dad. Kuroo saw it over your shoulder, and immediately sat up.
��Dad, is everything okay?” You ask, trying to drown out the sound of the party.
“You need to get out of there, have Kuroo take you somewhere safe. Nohebi is looking for us.” Your dad says in a rushed tone. You hear some shuffling on his end, and your mother’s voice in the distance.
“What? Nohebi knows I’m here?” You ask. Kuroo looks at you with concern, seemingly ready to get up and run at any moment.
“Daishou has eyes everywhere. Don’t come home, your mother and I won’t be here. Tell Kuroo to protect you no matter what.” There’s a brief moment of silence between the two of you. “Your mom and I love you, sweetheart. We’ll see you soon.” Three beeps signal the end of the call.
“We need to go. Nohebi’s coming.” You say, jumping up. Kuroo follows suit.
“I’ll let the guys know.” Kuroo says, beginning to race towards the backyard where Inarizaki, Seijoh, and Nekoma were hanging out.
You follow him out, trailing behind him as he approaches Cypher and Sly Fox. Before you can catch up to him, he’s already heading back towards you, taking your hand and dragging you through the house and out the front door.
“Will everyone be okay?” You ask him, running to the car. You hop in, Kuroo doing the same and turning the car on.
“Between Seijoh, Inarizaki, and Nekoma, they have Nohebi outnumbered three to one. They won’t try anything at a party this crowded. Daishou’s too smart to fight a losing battle.” Kuroo says, immediately racing away from the party, the houses of the neighborhood zooming past your line of sight. “The gangs aren’t the target anyways. We are.”
As if on cue, you see in the rearview mirror three cars pull up to the party, and Daishou climbs out of one of them. He was vaguely familiar, you could barely recall seeing him in your father’s office, but you knew that he would recognize you and Kuroo in a heartbeat.
“We got out just in time.” You say, looking over at Kuroo.
“Barely. We’re not in the clear just yet princess, still need to get somewhere safe.” Kuroo says shortly, continuing to fly down the empty Tokyo streets. “We don’t know if Daishou had eyes on us as we left. And as soon as he realizes we aren’t there, they’re gonna be all over the city looking for us.”
“So where do we go?” You ask him.
Kuroo pauses, staring out at the freeway in front of the two of you. “My safehouse. It’s under a bogus name, in an old neighborhood. They won’t know to look there.”
You nod, sighing and rubbing your eyes. You didn’t feel even the slightest bit tipsy from the drink you had earlier. How did the night go bad so quickly?
“Hey.” Kuroo says gently, reaching over to hold your hand. “Everything will be okay. As soon as we’re at the safehouse, we’ll be in the clear. And I’m sure your mom and dad are somewhere safe as well.”
His reassurance goes a long way, easing your nerves and allowing you to relax a little. There was no use stressing yourself out while you’re stuck in the car, driving to an unknown destination.
After about 50 minutes of silent driving, Kuroo finally pulls off of the freeway and enters an old, run down neighborhood. Everything was quiet, and the streetlights overhead were flickering in the darkness.
“Home sweet home.” Kuroo says, pulling into an alley next to an apartment building. He turns the car off, going to the trunk. You get out as well, watching Kuroo as he drapes a large tarp over the car. A bright red luxury car would definitely stand out in a neighborhood like this.
Kuroo takes your hand and leads you up the apartment complex stairs to a door labeled ‘A402’. With one of the many keys on his keychain, Kuroo unlocks the door, opening it for you.
There wasn’t anything very special about the apartment, it seemed like the type of place a person would crash at for a night or two then leave. A small but functional kitchen, a modestly sized living area with a couch and a TV. As you continue further into the apartment, you see a quaint bathroom with a standing shower, and a bedroom barely big enough to fit a full sized bed.
“There’s some pillows and stuff in the hall closet. And some extra clothes in the bedroom.” Kuroo says, setting his keys on the counter and pulling out his phone. As you reach for a light switch, Kuroo stops you. “Wait, don’t. We shouldn’t make it look like anyone’s home, just in case. At least until I hear back from Kenma.”
Although his paranoia seemed a bit much for you, you knew that it was for a good reason. If the Nohebi Clan was enough of a threat to make your father go into hiding, no precaution was too extreme.
“I’m gonna go change.” You call out to him, grabbing a spare shirt and pair of men’s boxers from the bedroom closet. You gently close the door, beginning to strip off your party outfit and changing into Kuroo’s clothes.
After taking a moment to recollect your thoughts, you decide there was no use worrying about things that were out of your control. Your mother and father, the race that you volunteered for, even the party you just fled from. What was in your control, however, was the bed.
“I’ll put some sheets on the bed.” You shout out to Kuroo once more, grabbing the pillows and sheets from the closet. It felt almost hotel-like, the way everything was pristine and untouched. At least you knew this wasn’t the sort of place Kuroo took other girls.
“Perfect.” You say, fluffing the pillows one last time, then stepping back to admire your work.
“I heard back from Kenma.” Kuroo says, pushing the door open and entering the room. He flops onto the bed, ruining your perfect sheets and collapsing your freshly fluffed pillows.
You sigh in annoyance, closing your eyes to keep your cool. “What did he say?” You ask, sitting next to Kuroo.
“Everything’s all good. Daishou and his guys showed up, asked for us. Oikawa and Kita were waiting for them, so they barely even made it past the front door. Told them we left a while ago, and that they didn’t know where we went.” Kuroo rubs his forehead with his hands, pushing his hair back. In the dim light that radiated from the street lamps outside, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes.
“No one got hurt? Are they still out looking for us?” You ask, your brain going a thousand miles an hour.
“Everyone's fine.” Kuroo says gently, taking your hand. “From what Kenma knows, they gave up looking for us and now they’re trying to find your dad. I think they’re assuming I brought you to them.”
You breathe another sigh of relief. The two of you were finally in the clear, finally safe, at least for tonight. “So we’re okay? At least for now?”
“For now, yes. In the morning Kenma will let me know if we’re all clear to go back to your place. But for right now, we’re safe.” Kuroo says, turning over to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your thigh.
“We’re safe.” You whisper to yourself, running your fingers through Kuroo’s unruly black hair. The moment of calm being shared between the two of you is disrupted by a loud rumbling from your stomach.
“You hungry?” Kuroo asks, grinning against your leg.
“Maybe.” You say, realizing how hungry you’ve been all night. Is eating at parties still not cool, or was that only a high school thing? You didn’t see anyone else eating at Bokuto’s, so you assume it still wasn’t. Or maybe you were too worried about everyone staring at you to notice if anyone was eating.
“I’ll go grab some stuff at the convenience store.” Kuroo says, getting up and grabbing his jacket. “Onigiri?”
“And some ramen please.” You request politely, smiling sweetly at him. “Be careful.”
“Always am, princess.” He says, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips.
Kuroo exits the room and you hear the front door shut and lock. You found yourself in a silent, dark apartment, alone.
‘Might as well see if the TV works.’ you think to yourself, getting up and walking to the living room and plopping down on the couch. Just like the bed, it felt brand new, as if you were the first person to sit on it.
After flicking the TV on, you mindlessly scroll through channels, trying to find something to occupy your mind. It felt wrong, how everything was so dangerous and scary tonight, but all that you could think of was that one thing Bokuto said. ‘No more bachelor’s life for you!’ What does that even mean?
Grabbing your phone, you realize that you really had no one to talk to. Normal girls would text their best friend, or even just a regular friend when they want to talk about boy problems. Normal girls, with normal friends and safe lives. Maybe Kuroo really is the only person you talk to.
You scroll through your recent messages, trying to find anyone to talk to. Dad — no. For obvious reasons. Mom — maybe on a regular day, but not right now. Kuroo — big no, for even more obvious reasons. Dentist — yeah, if you were really that desperate.
“I guess I could talk to myself.” You mutter out loud. After a moment of lonesome silence, you sigh. “Yeah, no. I’m not that crazy.”
What kind of bachelor’s life was Kuroo living before you came along, before that early morning watching the sunrise? You always assumed he was the no strings attached sort of guy, considering the type of work he does. But then again, the only times you ever saw him was when he was working. Maybe the Kuroo you knew was just one side, the professional side. Of course he let his guard down around you, joking and flirting when you were alone. It had been that way for as long as you could remember, since Kuroo started working for your dad. But maybe that was just another side, the side for girls he was interested in. Maybe you weren’t the only one who got to see that side. You saw two out of however many sides he has — the flirt and the henchman. Maybe you didn’t know him at all.
The sound of the front door creaking open draws you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see Kuroo with a convenience store bag filled with food.
“I wasn’t sure which onigiri you’d want, so I got one of each.” He says, plopping a bag filled with various onigiris onto the living room table. “And I got two ramens, spicy and regular. I’ll take whichever one you don’t want.”
“Spicy please.” You say, chuckling at how much food Kuroo got for just the two of you. Kuroo shrugs his jacket off, leaving it on the couch. Grabbing the bag with the ramen, he walks into the kitchen, flicking the lights on.
“One spicy ramen coming right up.” He says, pulling a pot out of the cupboard. You grab a salmon onigiri from the bag in front of you, unwrapping it and taking a bite.
“How often do you use this place?” You ask, watching Kuroo as he fills the pot with water and puts it on the stove.
“Once in a blue moon, really. If a job goes wrong and I need a place to lay low, I stay here. Or if I need a place to crash and don’t feel like driving home.” He answers.
“Where do you live, anyways?”
“Close by the Nekoma shop, same building as Kenma. We talked about being roommates for a while, but we agreed we’d probably start hating one another.” Kuroo chuckles to himself, walking back to the living room to grab an onigiri for himself.
“So it’s just you?” You ask, trying to steer the conversation in your favor.
“Me and Yoruichi.”
“Yoruichi?” You ask, feeling like you knew the name from somewhere. Maybe an old anime?
“My cat.” He says, grinning. “I found her on a job, actually. She kept following me around and just jumped into my car when I wasn’t looking.”
“Sounds like a pretty good life.” You say, trying your hardest to be subtle. “A bachelor’s life.” Okay, not so subtle.
“I knew you were still thinking about that.” Kuroo says, laughing. “You know you can just ask me stuff. No need to try and jump over hurdles trying to talk to me.”
“I’m not really good at this.” You admit. “You know...talking. Being open. Relationship stuff.”
“Relationship, huh?” Kuroo asks, turning to you and smirking. The pot of water behind him was at a rolling boil, letting steam into the kitchen.
You roll your eyes, your cheeks were definitely blushing but you hope that Kuroo couldn’t see it in the dim light. “Whatever this is.” You say quietly, knowing that a real label was the last thing either of you were thinking of with all the things you both were dealing with.
“Like I said, ask me anything.” Kuroo says, his back turned to you as he stirred the ramen.
“What did Bokuto mean by ‘a bachelor’s life’?” You ask, getting up to join Kuroo in the kitchen. You lean against the counter opposite the stove, staring at Kuroo’s muscular back.
“I was...definitely a bachelor. For a while.” Kuroo says, back still turned to you.
“Like...you had…” you say, trailing off. You were torn between saying “hoes” or “bitches”.
“I had...some girls that I spent time with. Nothing serious, though. I always made sure to keep things casual.” The conversation felt tense, slowly but surely growing more and more awkward as more details were being revealed.
“I don’t really care about how many there were.” You say quickly, reassuring Kuroo and clearing some of the tension. “I don’t care who they are either. But is there anyone I should be worried about? It felt like everyone was staring at me at the party.” The memory of all the girls at the party staring at you curiously was persisting in your mind.
“No one to worry about, really. None of them seem like the type to backstab, especially considering soon everyone will know you’re a Sakanoshita.” Kuroo says slyly, referring to the upcoming race in memory of your brother. You knew that as soon as everyone learned of your family, your sense of anonymity in Kuroo’s world would be gone.
“I have one more question.” You say, moving to stand next to the stove, nearly in front of Kuroo. “If those girls were nothing, and you usually keep things casual, what are we?”
Kuroo pauses, thinking for a moment before setting down his chopsticks and turning the heat to a simmer. Turning to you, he places his hands on either side of the counter next to you, trapping you underneath him. Your heart raced as you felt your breath catch in your throat, caught off guard by Kuroo���s sudden closeness to you.
“I’m whatever you want me to be.” He says, barely louder than a whisper, his lips hovering over yours.
“You’re mine.” You say, your gaze bouncing from his eyes to his lips. Kuroo moves closer to you, his body pressing against yours.
“I’m yours.” He responds, wrapping one of his arms around your waist.
“Kuroo…” You whisper, lips grazing his. He reaches next to you, turning the stove off. In an instant, his lips crash against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, desperate for more — more contact, more kisses, more Kuroo. The entire night Kuroo kept you close to him, never leaving your side at the party, always making sure to let his kisses linger a few seconds longer than normal. All the pent up tension was finally being released, the adrenaline rush that came with all the drama from tonight only fueled the boldness of yours and Kuroo’s actions.
You grind your hips against him, making him groan. You were very aware of two things; his growing member, hard against your body, and the sudden wetness between your legs.
You gently push against Kuroo, freeing yourself from underneath him. His lips stay attached to yours, refusing to break the seal the two of you made. In one swift motion, you release from his grasp, and without looking back, you calmly walk to the bedroom, leaving Kuroo standing in the kitchen alone, pining for more.
“Are you coming or not? Make sure you turn off the stove.” You call behind you, toying with Kuroo. You grin to yourself, knowing that you were just as irresistible to him as he was to you.
You open the bedroom door, behind you Kuroo’s footsteps grew closer and closer. Suddenly, you feel his arms around your waist again, and in an instant Kuroo is in front of you grabbing you by the throat, moving you so your back is against the door, pushing you backwards to shut it.
“Such a pretty princess.” Kuroo says, closing the gap between you two. You felt your heart rate quickening, being trapped under Kuroo’s touch like this. A light moan escapes your lips, this dominant side of Kuroo makes you want him even more. His hand wrapped around your throat, his hard cock against your leg, the whole room felt electrified.
“Kuroo please.” You whisper, eager for more.
“You want me?” Kuroo asks, his lips barely touching yours. He wraps his other arm around you, grabbing your ass and pulling you against his body. The only thing that stopped the two of you from being directly pressed against one another was his hand around your throat.
“Yes.” You answer breathlessly, moving your head forward, your lips colliding with his. Kuroo breathes heavily, removing his hand from your throat and moving to grab your ass. Almost by instinct, you give a light jump, wrapping your legs around Kuroo’s waist, his hands supporting you and keeping you from falling.
Kuroo moves backwards until his legs hit the bed, then he slowly sits and reclines backwards, careful not to drop you or break the kiss. He maintains a firm grip on your ass as you straddle him grinding your hips against his, yearning for more friction between the bulge being held back by his jeans and your throbbing pussy.
His fingers gently graze at the bottom of your shirt, tugging it upwards. You take the hint, sitting up and removing your top effortlessly. Kuroo does the same, sitting up slightly and lifting his shirt over his head. In the dim glow of the street light from outside, you could just barely make out the dragon tattoo on that stretched from his neck down his arm.
“Take these off.” Kuroo says, rubbing your thighs.
“What’s the magic word?” You tease.
“Now.” He says, reaching for your neck, forcefully pulling you down to look him in the eyes. You smirk, relishing in the fact you were able to see this side of Kuroo. There was no fear within you as he tightened his grip around your throat, only more and more arousal at the sight of the great Drift King grasping for control.
Gently, you take hold of his wrist, making him let go of your neck. After placing a small kiss on his thumb, you get up, unbuttoning your pants. Kuroo’s eyes never left you, he was hypnotized, his hand rubbing his hardened crotch. He almost looked as if he was stuck in a trance, watching you undress before him, as if you were something out of a magazine that had come to life right before his eyes.
Reaching behind you, you unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor, your nipples already rock hard. Kuroo lets out a small “fuck”, watching you in amazement. You turn to look at him, feeling no need to cover your nude body, no need to hide from him. You want him to see you, it turns you on watching him touch himself as he stares at you with lust in his eyes. At this moment, you wanted nothing more than to climb into that bed with him and fuck all night long.
You take a few steps closer to him, bending down and reaching for his pants, smirking as you hear his breath catch in his throat. Kuroo moves his hands away, hoisting himself up on his elbows to watch you. After unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, he moves slightly to allow you to remove his pants — and to his surprise — his underwear as well.
If there was a god out there, you were certain that they personally blessed Tetsurou Kuroo with a gorgeous penis. Standing perfectly erect in front of you, you stop for a moment to simply take it all in. The size, the girth, the slight lean to the left, the vein popping out in excitement, the droplets of precum gathering on the head. At just the mere sight of his cock, you felt a fire light inside of you, eager to pleasure him.
“You just gonna sit and stare all night?” Kuroo asks sarcastically, looking down at you with a smirk. Without saying a word, you gently lick the precum off of the head, your eyes not leaving his. He gently sighs, his smirk falling as his mouth stays slightly agape. You will yourself to salivate, and in one seemingly effortless motion, you take his entire length in your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You gag slightly, trying your hardest to relax your throat to keep his dick in your mouth. Kuroo’s head falls back in pleasure, and a beautiful moan escapes his lips.
“Goddamn, princess.” Kuroo says, lazily picking his head up to look you in your eyes. Once again maintaining eye contact, you slowly withdraw his dick from your mouth, allowing your drool to dribble from your mouth onto his penis. Kuroo’s chest continued to rise and fall heavily, watching your every move. Licking one long stripe along the vein of his penis, you once again take him in your mouth, this time creating a rhythm, your head bobbing up and down as your hand strokes the length that you couldn’t fit, letting your spit lubricate his cock.
You begin to lose yourself in the moment, allowing yourself to close your eyes and bask in the sound of Kuroo’s soft groans as you pleasure him.
“Come here.” Kuroo says, breaking your concentration. You slowly take his length out of your mouth, leaving it wet with your saliva. Kuroo reaches for your thighs, pulling you upwards to look you straight into your eyes as you hover over him, his wet length hitting your inner thigh.
“Sit on my face.” Kuroo commands roughly, hands wandering up and down your legs and ass, his fingers gently brushing the lips of your vagina. You shiver at the small contact made, ready for more. After planting a short kiss on Kuroo’s lips, you let him guide you until your pussy is just barely hovering over his lips, his hands securely gripping your thighs, your bare tits practically glowing in the dim light streaming in from the empty street. You felt so defenseless, exposing yourself as Kuroo stared up at your naked body, you both knew he was strong enough to hold you down against his mouth if he wanted to.
Slowly, tentatively, you lower yourself down, your heart pounding out of your chest in excitement. Without missing a beat, Kuroo’s large hands tighten their grip on your thighs, holding you steady as his tongue furiously licks your pussy, practically making you double over in ecstasy.
Your moans and whimpers of pleasure echo through the room, and Kuroo takes this as a signal to quicken his pace, his tongue licking fast strokes against your clit and dipping slightly into your hole. His pace continued getting faster and faster, tongue alternating between circling your clit and deeply thrusting into your hole. You were certain he was leaving bruises on your thighs, trying to keep you still against his devilish mouth. Gripping tightly onto his hair, you feel yourself beginning to come undone on top of him, your walls tightening as you grind your hips against Kuroo’s face, his nose nudging against your clit, the pace never slowing down. You weren’t 100% sure he could breathe, but you didn’t really care. All that mattered to you was reaching your climax with Kuroo’s face buried in your pussy.
“Kuroo!” You moan out, pulling his hair a little harder as you feel your walls pounding as you hit your peak, struggling screams escaping your mouth as Kuroo continues gently lapping at your clit as you cum. It took everything in you just to stay upright, the intensity of Kuroo’s mouth never letting up even as you came. You ride out your high on Kuroo’s face, slowly releasing your grip on his head as he takes his hands off your thighs.
As you continue to try to catch your breath, you lift yourself up, giving Kuroo room to breathe. He breathes deeply as well, looking up at you with a smirk.
“You sound cute when you scream my name.” He says smugly, rubbing your thigh. You roll your eyes, your cheeks burning. Shifting backwards, you widen your stance to straddle his waist again, the tip of his penis just barely grazing the lips of your drenched pussy.
“And I like you better when you’re quiet.” You say, just barely louder than a whisper. Your face was once again centimeters away from his, and his lips were still glistening with your cum. Without hesitation Kuroo’s lips meet yours, sloppy, wet kisses being swapped between the two of you as your hand takes hold of his dick, lining it up with your entrance.
You watch as Kuroo pulls away from the kiss, his face contorting in satisfaction as you sink into him. You sigh, closing your eyes as his length slowly starts filling you up. There was only a little resistance, your walls having to stretch to adjust to his size. But even so, he felt so comfortable inside of you. It felt as if the two of you were made for one another.
You feel your eyes roll back as you shift your hips, his dick twitching slightly inside of you. Kuroo’s hands gripped onto your ass deeply, urging you to move, to create some sort of friction. With the support of his hands, you move your hips upwards, then downwards, up, down, up, down, two bodies moving almost perfectly in sync as the room filled with the sounds of Kuroo’s moans and your screams.
The two of you kept a rhythmic pace to maintain the high you were both building, his hands guiding your hips as you steadily let your body rise and fall against his. Fireworks exploded at your core every time your hips collided with his, the head of his dick ramming against your cervix.
After some time you slow down, your legs were getting more and more tired as you rocked against him. Kuroo senses your exhaustion and effortlessly flips you over onto your back, getting on top of you. Lining up his rock hard cock at your entrance, he looks down at you with a malicious grin.
“So desperate for my dick, huh princess?” Kuroo teases, letting the head of his penis rub along your soaking wet pussy, your walls clenching every time it barely grazes your clit.
“Just get inside me already.” You demand, your body aching for more. You were so close to reaching your second high, and you were more than ready to keep going all night if Kuroo wanted to.
“What’s the magic word?” Kuroo says, using your words from earlier against you. He slowly lowers himself until his lips graze your hardened nipple. The tip of his dick continues to rub against you, making your pussy throb. Kuroo flicks your nipple with his tongue, before taking it between his teeth and nibbling softly, causing you to yelp at the sudden contact. Kuroo moves away from your nipple, sucking hard on the soft tissue of your breasts, leaving hickeys scattered across your chest.
“Please fuck me Kuroo!” You beg, unable to take any more stimulation. You feel Kuroo chuckle against your skin, right before he finally lets his tip enter you. He pushes into you at a painstakingly slow rate, making you groan in anticipation, shutting your eyes tightly. Kuroo always left you yearning for more, lusting for his touch.
Kuroo moves his head upwards, nestling his face into your neck as he gradually increases his pace. He leaves small kisses along your neck, taking your ear lobe between his teeth and tugging on it, making your eyes roll back as you let out a loud moan. You shift underneath him, bucking your hips upwards as you wrap your legs around his waist. Kuroo groans into your neck, letting his head rest against your shoulder as he continues to pound into you, leaving shockwaves running through your body with every thrust.
“Kuroo, please make me cum.” You moan out, tangling your hands in his hair. Kuroo quickly pushes himself upward, hoisting your legs up and using his thighs to keep your hips suspended in the air, his dick still deep in you. Kuroo smirks as he sees your eyes roll back in pleasure, your hands grasping at the sheets around you, your breasts bouncing with every thrust. His smirk only grows wider as he begins rubbing small circles on your clit with his thumb, causing you to scream so loud you were certain everyone in the neighborhood could hear you.
With this added stimulation, you felt yourself getting closer to your climax much faster, the pressure building up in your pussy as Kuroo continues fucking you from this new angle. Without any warning, you feel your walls clenching like a vice around Kuroo’s dick, causing Kuroo to take his thumb off of your clit so his hands could grab your waist, keeping you still as you cum all over him.
Your climax is only further intensified by Kuroo continuing to pound into your tight cunt, aching for his own release. The feeling of your vaginal walls spasming around his cock was more than enough for him, but getting to see you scream in pleasure as he sends you over the edge is what really did it for him. To him, there was no better sight than seeing his princess cum.
It didn’t take long until Kuroo let out a throaty groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he fucks you even harder.
“Cum inside of me.” You barely make out, your body overrun with satisfaction. Kuroo leans down once more, pinning your hands over your head as you wrap your legs around him. Looking deeply into his eyes, you watch as his face contorts in ecstasy, his forehead dropping against yours. You feel his cock twitch inside of you, and you feel your cunt fill up with Kuroo’s hot cum.
After a last few sloppy thrusts, Kuroo pulls out of you, leaving you lying on the bed breathless, your chest rising and falling as you try to gain your composure. Your pussy was practically bursting with liquids, both yours and his. Kuroo briskly walks over to the bathroom, and you hear some shuffling and the sink running. Kuroo returns with a wet washcloth, kneeling in front of your soaking wet vagina and tenderly wiping up any cum that was on you.
“Such a gentleman.” You comment, looking down at Kuroo as he concentrates on cleaning you up. He looks up at you, smiling when he realizes you were watching him.
“Only the best for my girl.” He says, getting up and wiping his dick off with the rag. You move to lay on your side, feeling more than content with the events that just occurred. Kuroo lays next to you, looking into your eyes.
“My girl?” You repeat back at him, squinting your eyes skeptically. Kuroo rolls his eyes, throwing his arm around your waist and pulling you next to him.
“I’m yours. You’re mine. That’s the deal.” He says, winking at you.
“Since when am I yours?” You ask teasingly, knowing damn well that there was no arguing that you and Kuroo belonged to one another.
“Since you screamed my name so loud the entire neighborhood heard you.” Kuroo says, smirking. “The hickeys speak for themselves too. They’re like a personal tag.”
“Shut up.” You say, rolling your eyes at his lewd comments. You couldn’t hide the smile on your face as you thought about the idea of being Kuroo’s. “I’m yours.” You whisper, inching your face closer to Kuroo’s.
“You’re mine.” Kuroo responds back, placing a loving kiss on your lips. There wasn’t any lust, any heat in this kiss, which was a drastic change from the absolutely filthy deeds the two of you were just committing. It was a simple kiss, sealing the deal the two of you made.
“Round two after dinner?” Kuroo asks jokingly, pulling away from your kiss. You laugh, resting your forehead against his, lazily nodding at the proposal of more sex.
Alone with Kuroo in that tiny little safehouse, you felt more at home than you had felt in years. Maybe it was the intensity of everything that happened that night, maybe it was the sense of belonging you felt as you laid in Kuroo’s arms, maybe it was the way your heart fluttered every time you heard Kuroo say “I’m yours”. Perhaps it was all of it, all of these emotions and sensations coming together, a light in the middle of the darkest storm that raged on around you, right outside the walls of this apartment. That storm wasn’t going to stop, and you and Kuroo were fully aware of the dangers that lurked around the corner for the both of you. But maybe the comfort the two of you found in one another was more than just a shelter from the impending storm. A solemn promise that regardless of the future that lay ahead, there was one constant that would remain true — he is yours, and you are his.
#kuroo tetsuro x reader#Kuroo Tetsurou#Kuroo#haikyuu#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu fanfic#hq#deciphered#smut#kuroo smut#haikyuu smut#multi chapter#kuroo fanfic
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After The Ceremony - Chapter 1
Hey Guys!
This is the first chapter of a mini Elriel fanfiction that I'm working on. You can also read it on AO3
Summary: Elain and Azriel after Nesta and Cassian's Mating Ceremony.
Words: 1,847
Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony has long since been over, but Elain couldn’t bring herself to go back to her room. No, Elain had too much restless energy to even attempt to fall asleep tonight, and instead of tossing and turning in her bed all night, she decided she may as well be useful and start to clean up. It took only ten minutes of laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, before silently walking downstairs to the ballroom. Nuala and Cerridwen offered to help her, and Elain knew that they wouldn’t have minded staying up all night to clean with her, but she really just wanted to be alone. So, the twins like everyone else went to bed, and Elain stayed in the ballroom of Feyre and Rhysand’s River House putting herself to use.
There was something about being alone in the middle of the night that just seemed right to Elain, when everyone else was sleeping, she didn’t have to worry about putting on a face for everyone to see. She didn’t have to plaster a smile on her face while her heart was cracking in her chest. It was a test of her resolve today, Elain thought, as she pretended, yet again, that everything was alright. It took everything in Elain, every ounce of will power and restraint, to not break down and cry in the middle of the ballroom as she saw a familiar rose necklace around somebody else's neck.
Elain wanted to cry, scream, and cry some more whenever she looked at Gwyn, or Azriel, or even Mor. Especially Mor, when Elain saw her dancing and smiling with Azriel. It just felt so wrong. It should be Elain wearing his necklace, and it should be Elain in his arms as they spun around the room completely oblivious to everyone else.
After seeing Gwyn wearing her necklace, Elain immediately turned to leave the room because all she wanted was to be alone with her feelings and not worry about someone seeing through her fake smile, but as soon as she turned she caught a glimpse of the sun and a shadow dancing across the floor.
Elain had never seen Mor and Azriel dance together, and she never wanted to, especially when watching them smile at each other ruined whatever was left of her heart. They looked so incredibly beautiful together, and Azriel was smiling down at Mor with a warmth Elain hadn’t seen since the last solstice when she made him laugh. And Mor was smiling up at Azriel with an ease Elain had never noticed between them.
Confusion danced in her chest with every other emotion she was feeling.
Elain was only forced out of her staring from a heavy arm that fell across her shoulders. She blinked and a drunk Cassian appeared in front of her face, a stupid grin strectched across his face that was the result of unadulterated love and copious amounts of wine.
“Dance with me!” Cassian pulled her onto the dance floor, snapping her out of her imminent depression and into a crowded dance floor.
Elain let out a sign and continued sweeping the surprisingly messy floor. It seemed like most of the cake she and the twins had baked for the party ended up on the marble floor somehow, but she supposed that drunken fae couldn’t be expected to be tidy. The full moon illuminated most of the room, but there were still some faelights along the wall that added just enough light for her work. After sweeping, and picking up a surprising amount of glasses from the floor, Elain collected the bouquets from the tables.
It took her months to craft five bouquets for the ceremony, one for Nesta, and four for the women standing beside her. The core of Nesta’s bouquet were red carnations, pink roses, with bursting dahlias. Every bouquet held pink acacia’s - the flower of friendship. Feyre’s bouquet consisted of blooming magnolia’s and eye-catching violets. Her own was made from magnolias, nightshade, and a sprinkle of periwinkles. Emorie’s held vibrant hyacinths with white jasmine, and Gwyn’s bouquet was crafted from lavender, morning glories, oleanders. All the flowers were grown and cultivated by Elain herself, and she felt a shimmer of pride as she looked upon them.
Elain was getting ready to move the bouquets and their vases from the ballroom into the dining room, thinking they would look nice in a room where her family spends most of their time, when a familiar shiver floated down her spine. She didn’t look up as she said, “Hello, Azriel.” She knew he would reveal himself to her.
“It’s late. You should be sleeping.” His deep voice blended in with the night, causing her knees to weaken slightly and her eyelids to relax. What she wouldn’t give to fall asleep with that voice whispering in her ear while his fingers slid against her skin. What she wouldn’t give to stay awake all night with his voice in her ears and his fingers on her skin. Elain lost count of how many times she lost herself in thought as she tried to imagine what his lips would feel like against her throat.
“So should you,” Elain said, turning her body slightly to see him walk further into the room from where he leaned against the doorway. “I thought everyone was asleep. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
“Do you normally spend your nights cleaning up after drunken fae?” Azriel asked as he approached her. He stood maybe two feet away, but Elain could still feel the warmth radiating off his body. Another shiver made its way down her spine. Her skin felt so sensitive in his presence that it was hard to focus on anything besides him.
“Normally just Cassian,” Elain attempted to joke. Her chest felt slightly lighter as she noticed the twitch of his lips. It was a mistake looking at his lips. Her tongue brushed against her own that suddenly felt dry. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
Azriel nodded. No words, no explanation, no attempt at conversation.
“You’re a lovely dancer.” Elain said, unable to stop herself, but she wanted him to know that she noticed him. She wanted him to know that she wished it was her in his arms dancing in front of everyone else.
“Thank you. You didn’t dance much at all.” Azriel noted and Elain felt the warmth of a blush on cheeks.
She gave a small shrug and said, “I was only asked by Cass, Rhys, and Lucien.”
Rhys was the first to offer her a dance, and she loved her brother-in-law too much to say no. Rhys was a lovely dancer, and she fought to keep a smile on her face under his prying eyes. Her dance with Cassian involved mostly her propping him up so that he didn’t collapse on the floor. Her dance was Lucien was non-existent.
“Why didn’t you dance with him?” Azriel asked softly. If it wasn’t the dead of night she wouldn’t have heard it.
“I don’t want to give him false hope,” Elain said, taking a fortifying breath before she continued, “It’s wretched to think you have a chance, a connection, to someone when you don’t.” She prayed to the Mother that Azriel didn’t notice her shaky breath, her racing heart, or how it took all of her bravery to say that.
In the soft glow of the faelights Elain saw a flinch run across Azriels face. It took him a moment longer than usual to school his features into their usual mask, but he couldn’t hide the pain that shimmered in his eyes.
The similarities weren’t lost on Elain. How this night resembled that of the solstice. Azriel and Elain being the only two people awake in the house. Her mate sleeping upstairs. The same crackling excitement rushing through her. The hope that maybe she would finally feel the brush of his lips against hers, and she wouldn’t have to speculate about what he tasted like anymore.
“Elain.” Azriel said her name as if it pained him.
“Why did you do it?” She whispered hotly. “Why did you give my necklace away? Why did you dance with Mor and look at her as if she were the only female in the room?” Before her bravery completely ran out she took a step forward, grabbed his hand, and placed it against her heart. “Did you feel this break tonight?”
His hand was hot against the thin cotton of her nightgown. She could just barely feel the traces of his scars. Elain wished there was nothing between them.
“Because it did,” Elain continued. “It broke every time I looked at you. It broke when I saw the necklace, and it broke when I saw how beautiful you and Mor looked.”
“Elain,” Azriel said, his voice harsh, his hand pressed further into her as if he too wished there was no nightgown separating them. “I want to, but I can’t.”
“I don’t understand,” Elain stared at his churning hazel eyes. She couldn’t help the lonesome tear that slid down her face. She was about to wipe it away when he beat her to it. His large, warm, wonderful hand brushed away her tear before cupping her cheek. Despite the pain that was growing in her chest, she would feel it all again if it meant his skin on hers. She would withstand any pain if it kept them together. “Make me understand.”
“I want to kiss you,” Azriel said. Elain felt each word as it brushed against her face. “I want to rip this nightgown from your body, lay you on the table, spread your legs open and feast until I’m drunk off the taste of you. I want to slide into you until I’m the only thing on your mind, and then I want to bring you so much pleasure you’ll never want to be away from me. And once you found your pleasure, I’d take you upstairs and do it all again. If I ever got a hold on myself I would make love to you the way you deserve.”
Elain, loving the warmth and wetness that flooded her core, felt as if she was about to combust. One tiny spark and she would erupt into flame.
“And why can’t we do that?” Elain asked quietly, as if she were afraid of ruining the moment. As if she were afraid he would slip away from her yet again.
“Rhy’s pulled rank on me.” Azriel replied. The only sign of tension was the muscle that contracted in his jaw. Elain ignored the urge to run her tongue over it.
“Huh?” Elains brain was too hazed with desire to form a proper sentence.
“He forbid it.” Azriel replied, tilting his head forward slightly, and brushing his nose against hers. The breath that floated across her face threatened to knock her over.
“Forbid what?” Elain managed to get out - too absorbed in him to think clearly.
“Us.”
Elain didn’t have time to think about what Azriel said as his lips descended on hers.
#elain archeron#azriel#elain acotar#elriel fanfic#pro elriel#elriel fanfiction#elain x azriel#elriel#acotar fanfiction#acotar
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Ex- Five Hargreeves x Female Reader
Description: Six months after Five breaks up with Y/N, he finally finds her. (Also Y/N is Number Eight. She has body manipulation powers)
A/N: I wrote this for Wattpad, but I really want to post it right now! But I might start and imagine book on Wattpad soon. I just have to finish a few more stories. I love this so much and I hope you do too!!!♥️♥️♥️
Warnings: swearing (I think that’s it)
Today felt like every other day. I woke up, I got ready for the day, and I'm on my way to go get coffee.
I just got my coffee and sat down when the bell on the door dinged, indicating that someone was here. Normally, I don't pay attention to it, but for some reason, I looked up. And I regretted it immediately.
Five Hargreeves.
My ex.
The love of my life who shattered my heart.
He seemed to notice me staring and looked over. As soon as his eyes met mine, he smirked.
I quickly looked at the coffee sitting in front of me.
Why is he here?
"Hello, Y/N."
That voice.
I lo-hate that voice.
I looked up to see him sitting on the other side of the booth with his cup of black coffee.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Having coffee with an old friend," he said.
"We're not friends," I said, "you made that very clear six months ago."
The smirk never left his beau- face.
I picked up my to-go cup and got up from the booth.
"Where are you going? I just got here."
"Getting away from you," I said. And with that, I walked outside.
I need to get home. I'm not going to let him ruin my day.
I walked up the stairs to my apartment. I unlocked the door and walked in.
"Bout time you showed up."
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Five, what the hell!?" I yelled.
"I need to talk to you," he said.
"Well, I don't want to talk to you," I said setting my keys on the table, "so please leave."
"Not until you let me talk to you," he said.
"I thought you said everything you had to say when you broke up with me."
He sighed and stood up, "You know as well as I do that we needed to break up. We fought all the time and neither of us was happy."
No, he wasn't happy. He caused all the fights.
‘We have to stop the apocalypse.'
'The apocalypse is more important.'
'I would, but I really need to focus on the apocalypse.'
Flashback
"Five, please just relax for a few minutes," I said as I laid on his bed and watched him write equations all around his room.
"I'll relax when I have this figured out, all right?"
I sighed and walked out of the room. I get it. We have to save the world. Make sure that billions of people don't die, but he seriously can't pay attention to me for just a few minutes!?
He acts like if he stops for even a second the world is going to end right then and there.
I haven't cuddled, hugged, or kissed him at all these last few days. I'm getting desperate. All I want is a minute of his time. I don’t think that it's too much to ask.
***
A few months go by and we successfully stopped the apocalypse. I used my body manipulation powers to calm Vanya down, so she didn't end the world.
She's fine now and she's learned to control her powers. She felt really bad about everything.
We rebuilt the academy and decorated it the way we all wanted. While we're figuring out how to put Grace back together, I volunteered to cook for everyone.
And that's what I'm doing now, cooking dinner for everyone.
"Smells good, love," Five said wrapping his arms around my waist.
I rolled my eyes and ignored him. Between stopping the apocalypse and rebuilding the academy, we still haven't really hugged, kissed, cuddled, or even really talked to each other.
Now that it's all done, he's acting like he didn't ignore me for three months.
"What's the matter?" He asked taking his arms away from my waist.
I put the burner on low and turned to face him, "what's the matter is that you basically ignore me for months and then act like we're okay!"
"We're not okay?" He asked.
I groaned, "No, Five. We're not okay!"
"Then talk to me!" He yelled.
"I tried like a billion times! And it was always the apocalypse, you working on the new academy, or you being too tired from working on the new academy."
"Those are pretty good excuses, Y/N!"
"I'm not saying they aren't!" I yelled, "I'm saying that you could've taken a break to hang out with me. Do you even know the last time we actually spent time together or had a loving moment together?"
"Last night," he said blandly.
"Last night? Oh, you mean when you got back late and climbed into bed when I was half asleep and gave me a kiss on the cheek?"
"Yeah."
"No, Five! That was a very nice gesture, but not at all what I'm talking about!"
"What are you talking about then?" He asked
Oh my God. Is he for real?
I groaned, "do you even love me anymore?"
"Of course, I love you! I just don't understand why you're so upset with me!"
"Are you fucking kidding me!?" I yelled.
"No, I'm not. What's your problem?"
"My problem is that my boyfriend can't seem to find a balance for me and for work. Work is always more important than me!"
"That's so not true!" He yelled.
"Oh really? Remember when I asked if you take a break from the equations for just a few minutes to hang out with me?"
"We're talking about the end of the world Y/N!"
"But you totally could've spared a minute for me! And a month ago when I wanted to spend time with you, but you had to help Luther and Diego get supplies for the academy."
"God, you're so needy!" He yelled.
"I'm sorry that I just wanted some attention from my boyfriend!" At this point, I'm in tears.
"Well, I'm trying to give it to you now and you keep pushing me away!"
"You pushed me away first!"
"I didn't push you away. You did that yourself!"
I scoffed, "FUCK YOU, FIVE!"
I stormed out of the kitchen and past our family (who was eavesdropping) and went upstairs to my room.
Is he seriously that ignorant?
I slammed the door and fell onto my bed crying.
***
Five and I haven't been the same since that day. We can't be in the same room as each other or else we argue.
Our relationship is falling apart. If he would've realized that he's the reason we're in this mess, we wouldn't be here.
"Y/N?" I looked up from my book to see Five.
"I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of fighting," he said.
"Me too," I said.
Is he finally going to apologize? Take the blame? Or at least some of it?
"I'm done," he said, "we're done."
What?
H-he's breaking up with me?
"What?"
"I'm. Breaking. Up. With. You." He said slowly.
He spatial jumped out of my room.
I sat there in shock. I never expected that we would break up.
I stood up and started packing my things. I don't know where I'm going, but I can't stay in the same house as him.
End of flashback
I moved into my apartment the next day. I hoped that me being out of the academy would make him see that he needed me. But he never looked for me. So, I gave up.
"Five, seriously. Leave," I said.
"No," he walked over to me.
"I don't want anything to do with you," I said.
He raised his eyebrow and walked towards me. I backed up until I hit the wall.
He smirked.
"Five-"
He cut me off by kissing me. He placed his hands on my waist and pulled me closer to him.
I admit it, I missed him. A lot. But he can't just show up and hope things can go back to the way they were before.
I carefully pushed him away from me, "you can't just show up here months after breaking up with me and kiss me."
"I miss you. A lot!"
"I miss you too, but you can't expect me to take you back that easy."
He sighed, "you're right and you don't have to take me back. Just please hear me out and then I'll leave."
"Fine," I caved.
"Everything was my fault. I put work before you and I pushed you away. I was stupid and I should've spent more time with you. And worst of all, I hurt the love of my life. I broke your heart and I'm so so sorry," he said, "I'll leave you be now. Just know, I love you more than anything and I really am sorry."
He kissed my head and spatial jumped out of the apartment.
I walked over to the couch and sat down.
Should I give him another chance?
I want to.
I love him and he was really sorry.
Screw it.
I grabbed my keys and walked out. I locked the door and ran down the stairs.
I knocked on the academy door and Klaus answered it.
"Oh. My. God. Y/N! You're back! Come here!" He pulled me into a hug.
"Hi, Klaus. As much as I would love to catch up with you, I need to talk to Five," I said.
"He's in his room. He's been so lost without you. He actually just got home not that long ago. He seemed upset."
I sighed, "we'll catch up later."
"I'll hold you to that," he said.
"Later Klaus," I said walking past him and running up the stairs.
I knocked on Five's door.
"Klaus, go away. I told you that I don't want to talk!"
"It's not Klaus," I said.
The door flew opened revealing Five. His eyes were red and bloodshot.
Awe.
"You left before I could say anything," I said.
He stepped aside to let me in. I walked inside and he shut the door.
I turned to him.
"What do you want to say?" He asked.
I walked over to him and took his hands in mine, "you're not the only one at fault for our break up. I should've been more understanding. You wanted to save the world and help rebuild the academy. While I just wanted you to pay attention to me. So, I'm sorry too."
He smiled, "So, will you take me back?"
I leaned in and kissed him.
"I take it that it's a yes."
I nodded and he leaned down to kiss me again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he placed his hands on my waist.
He pulled away and rested his head on mine, "I love you."
"I love you too," I said.
"Does this mean you're moving back in!?" Klaus called from the hall.
Five opened the door to reveal all our siblings.
"Yeah, I'm moving back in," I said.
They all practically tackled me in a hug.
"Don't break her. I just got her back!" Five yelled.
#the umbrella academy#five x reader#five hargreeves x reader#tua#tua five#five hargreeves#aidan gallagher#luther hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#allison hargreeves#vanya hargreeves#ben hargreeves#diego hargreeves#five hargreeves x you#Y/N Hargreeves#hargreeves siblings#Hargreeves#sloane hargreeves
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Spicy horror
Pairing: Frank x [fem] Reader Word count: ~ 4 000 Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: It's Halloween, and (y/n) and Frank finally confess their crushes to each other when binge watching horror movies on Frank's place. Kind of content: Praising / Protected / Oral
Requested by @thisisjustforrequestingfanfics (can't tag you, sorry hhh my T*mblr is acting weird)
a/n - I'm sorry that I coudn't proofread, I might do it soon; I was supposed to be asleep rn
"You're just annoying, old man," I tease with a grin. "But don't whine or else you'll ruin the makeup!" I continue spreading the white concealer over his face, careful to get it on the corners around his nose and around his eye, though not to irritate his eyes.
"No, fuck you," Frank groans, his face twitching to suppress any expression. "Why can't we watch it again tonight? They're the best movies! And stop calling me old man, it's just my birthday! I'm not decomposing or anything!" Despite his words, he smiles, opening his eyes once I pull away, leaning back against the chair of the desk – I roll my eyes.
"Yeah, I agree." I grab the eyeshadow palette from the desk and move closer to him again. "TCM is a great series and all, but can we not watch it for a single week? It's your birthday and we can watch literally any horror movie! And it can be special, like, not something we've watched a thousand times already to the point we already know most of the lines." I glare before motioning for him to close his eyes.
Frank sighs grumpily, leaning his head back. "What are you planning on, then? Alien? Jaws?" He lets out a weird cry when I slap the side of his head lightly, though he is soon chuckling.
"And then you complain when I say how annoying you are!" I spread the dark eyeshadow over his eyes, humming. "It's been a while since we've watched The Howling, Evil Dead, House of Wax. I mean, 'm not gonna complain if we decide on Alien and Jaws either." He hums, pouting. "Don't worry, you're still my favorite old man." I press a kiss to his head.
"I hate you," he laughs.
After a little bit of fake blood and retouching on my makeup, the two of us are leaving Frank's house to go to school, waving his mother goodbye. We don't look like what most of the kids will go dressed up as – not putting enough effort nor choosing the same themes as the jocks and popular people and not invisible enough just to throw on whatever in a black theme. Frank looks like a chill vampire with Bela Lugosi's Dracula references, though still looking like a punk, while I decided on one of my favorite characters. Nothing too extra, but still in the vibe.
"You look ridiculous with that hair slicked back." I kick one of the pebbles on the sidewalk. "I prefer the hedgehog or whatever it is in the normal state."
"I honestly feel like I could kill someone just from biting their jugular off." He grins, throwing his nose in the air – I can't help but to chuckle; he's adorable. "But not gonna be anyone from school, they're not worth it neither their blood would taste good." He twists his mouth. "I feel like most I'd get would be booze, botox and steroids."
"Damn," I snort, "awfully accurate. You're gonna starve, sorry."
Frank pouts, looking down, but a smirk soon tugs on his lips as he takes a step closer. "But you're not that bad, baby, you know?"
"Oh, fuck off!" I roll my eyes, clicking my tongue. "You just want to get in my jugular!"
Both of us burst out in chuckles and our conversation eventually dies down when we walk past the gates to inside the school, replaced by jokes at other people's costumes, sometimes needing to hold onto each other from laughter.
We walk into the first class, already a bit late, but all it does is to attract everyone's attention the moment we step in.
"Ridiculous, as always," some girl mutters under her breath. Funny.
Frank wraps a hand around the length of the coat to stupidly bring it to cover the lower part of his face, looking around with narrowed eyes then wide ones. "I smell not just a lot of blood here," he says in a low and raspy voice, "but also stupidity!" He points at the girl judgingly, making her twist her mouth disgusted.
"I hope Freddy Krueger visits you tonight," I say when walking past her, patting her shoulder. A scream comes from her when noticing the fake blood stain I leave behind on her white outfit, having Frank and I chuckling on our way to the back.
No one really pays attention to the classes – it's Halloween, we're even in stupid clothes and anxious for whatever is going to happen later in the day, so the teacher doesn't even bother scolding Frank and I for talking nonstop in the back of the classroom. To be honest, I think only the goody two shoes are actually doing something, sometimes turning around to glare at the others.
"Okay, okay, shut up for a minute!" I tell Frank, taking a look at the messy words over my notebook to check if I forgot to write something down. "We've got The Howling, Alien, Evil Dead, House of Wax, Dawn of the Dead, Funhouse, Pumpkinhead..."
"Fright Night," Frank continues, "Opera, Cannibal Holocaust, Texas Chainsaw–"
"I said no TCM! Fuck you," I curse, rushing to write everything down, crossing out TCM when I accidentaly write it down.
"Friday the 13th, Poltergeist, Near Dark and Elm Street," he finishes, glaring at me. He hits my shoulder, not enough to hurt. "I'll make you watch TCM with me until you have memorized every single frame of it!"
"Your TCM phase will have died down by then!" I twist my mouth bitterly. "Sorry to kill the hype, baby!" I throw my nose in the air with a chuckle at his sulky manners. He furrows his eyebrows, sucking in a breath for words he never really gets to say. "And we still got to watch all these goth movies and shows lying around! Do you think it was easy finding the 60s Addams family show on DVD? Or that one Frankenstein version on cassette." Okay, the last one was easy to find in a yard sale, but still, it was just luck.
"Okay, mommy, please just don't punish me," Frank says with a groan and a fake moan. I stare at him as he's not able to contain his laughter before starting to hit him with the notebook.
"Too bad you're not a good boy, hun."
For once, school ends up actually being nice and just because Frank and I were getting in the character sometimes and pissing people off. By lunch, he had pulled on some sunglasses and looked like the stupidest fucker while eating his sandwich and smudging more of the lipstick and fake blood around his lips. At some point, we had pretended to have a fight and pierce the other's chest with a pair of scissors just to squeeze a bag of fake blood at whoever walked by – mostly some of the jocks or plastics. So much fun.
The house is quiet when we arrive back at it, a couple hours after school ended, and we find out, later, a note from Frank's mom apologizing she can't be here during the rest of his birthday, though she's sure he'll have fun with me.
"Imma take a shower," I sigh, pointing upstairs.
"Sure," he hums, looking up from the note for a moment to smile at me.
Thankfully, I always leave some clothes at Frank's place because I'm here far too often and not always have the chance or disposition to go back home and grab some clothes. It doesn't prevent me from stealing his hoodie, however, and walking out of the bathroom without all of that sticky makeup or fake blood is the best thing ever. Later, Frank is the one to go take a shower while I take care of the food he had already started to prepare.
"Much better!" I raise my eyebrows at the sight of Frank with his hair back to normal and only a bit of black makeup smudges the underside of his eyes now.
"Y'know, I never said a single thing about how you looked," he mutters with his brow low, coming to lean against the counter, next to me, "still, you've been attacking me every chance you got!"
"Does it offend you?" I smile.
"No, but it still hurts!" He sniffles, a hand flat against his chest. "I know I'm too badass for you to handle, but you don't need to let it be that clear!"
I look at him from head to foot. "I hate you, y'know that?"
"Love you too, hun!" He grins and moves closer, cupping my face exaggeratedly to peck my cheek before we head upstairs with everything we need.
We turn the lights on to organize everything, soon sitting down against a pile of pillows and with food surrounding us, though most of it is on the bedside tables since Frank, mainly, gets extremely uncomfortable with it falling on the bed. It doesn't matter, though, since the food and half empty cans end up going forgotten halfway through the movie at the same time the chatter dies down and we watch The Evil Dead as if it was the first time.
Some funny part comes on – well, not exactly funny, but enough to make us chuckle quietly – and brings us back to reality, sighing and glancing at each other, adjusting our postures as we'd slid down the pillows.
Frank yawns.
"Already tired?" I tease, poking his shoulder.
"No." He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Getting tired is for losers." He does glance at the clock on his bedside table, however, and the red glowing numbers say it's six something.
"You're my favorite loser, then." I smirk lightly, exhaling.
Frank's eyebrows knit together as he looks at me, but then rolls his eyes. "Well, duh, of course I am! Who else? I'm the best." He scoots closer until his head is leaning on my shoulder and I can't help but to smile.
"No, I am," I groan, arms wrapped around him.
"I am!" He glares and, at some point, we end up in a wrestling match, pushing each other around the mattress among laughter and curses, which comes to a stop when we start getting too tired and I just let Frank lie down on top of me, head on my chest, still watching the movie. "Do you like anyone, (y/n)?" he asks suddenly. "Like, got a crush?"
Random. Why does he want to know? I mean, I do have a crush, but telling him about it is difficult.
"Um, yeah, I guess, why?" I blink, startled when he suddenly brings himself up on his elbows to stare at me.
"I swear to God I'll hunt them down if you forget about me because of them, do you understand?" Frank presses his forehead to mine. "You're the only one I got, sometimes I'm so worried you'll even leave me for whatever reason."
"What?" I breathe a chuckle, though there's not exactly anything funny here. "Never in my right mind would I do that! And you can't hunt my crush down if my crush is actually you," I laugh in a sudden rush of confidence, which wears out awfully quickly, leaving me lying there and rethinking every life choice.
"Me?" Frank widens his eyes. At the lack of answer, he takes a hold of my collar, straddling my hips. "Did I hear it right? Please, (y/n), (n/n), soulmate? I'm your goddamn crush? For how long?"
I shake my head lightly, shrugging. "Months? A long time."
"And you just told me now?" He cries, forehead pressed to my shoulder. "Slow motherfucker."
"I didn't want you to leave me either, c'mon!" I sigh in defeat, running a hand through his hair. "I remember that time a girl confessed to you and you'd simply vanish whenever she showed up. What if that was with me? I'd not be able to live like this, y'know that."
"Y'know, yeah, seeing it from that point..." Frank shrugs, bringing himself up to face me again. "Still, I wouldn't avoid you like that! Dunno, but it doesn't matter now because you just relieved me of months of suffering. Looking at these pretty lips without being able to kiss it." He furrows his eyebrows, eyes on my lips. "Can I kiss you, tho? Now that we feel stupid for all these months. Damn. At least I feel."
I breathe a chuckle. "Of course! Do you think I wasn't dying to do it either?"
Next thing I know are Frank's lips pressed against mine softly, soon growing firm with confidence. His fingers run along my neck lightly, in a caring manner, dropping to trace my collarbones.
"Also," Frank breathes, pulling away; his face never moves farther than a couple of inches whilst he adjusts his position, lying down beside me on the mattress. "Maybe it's wrong to say and I've always tried to say it in a subtle manner, but–" his eyes meet mine, "–you've got the body of a goddess! Like, dunno, sometimes you comment about not having an 'ideal', skinny body, but you're just so perfect," he groans, wrapping his arms around me tightly.
"Frank!" I tap on his back lightly. It's not that I don't like what he said – no, damn, it sends my heart fluttering, this warmth taking over my chest –, but is it really the truth? I didn't think it was possible for anyone to tell me this.
"No, I'm telling the truth!" Frank grins. "Like, your thighs and all. I just want to squeeze and bite you! Not in a bad way, I mean." I must give him a funny look because of how flustered he grows, tongue playing with his lip ring as he looks away. "There's a lot to unpack, fuck, I thought it was obvious how I always sit there gazing at you and shit, but..."
"Likewise." I glare playfully, making him chuckle.
"Y'know–" Frank smiles lazily, "–this is the best birthday I've ever had, by far." He brushes his lips against mine softly, watching me through half lidded eyes. "Never knew you'd actually like me back. Never believed it was possible, to be honest."
"I never cogitated you like me," I breathe.
"Well, okay," he says, "we've already gotten through this. I think we should focus on now."
"I'm not the one who keeps bringing back past thoughts!" I chuckle at how he pouts, scowling funnily.
"Shut up, shut up, I get it!" Frank rolls his eyes and presses his lips to mine before I can say anything, having me smiling against the kiss until returning it, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. Now that we've finally kissed, keeping our lips off each others' feels almost impossible – letting go of each other feels almost impossible. "God fucking damnit," he groans under his breathe, moving to press kisses down my jaw, soon reaching my neck.
A sigh escapes my lips at the kisses, though it turns into quiet pleased sounds at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin and sometimes closing around it, sucking on it whilst all I can bring myself to do is tugging onto his hair. Suddenly, however, feeling his hands traveling down to my hips and squeezing them makes me gasp, probably reacting a bit more than I intended.
"What?" Frank pulls away at the same moment, eyes wide. "Did I do something wrong? Please– Damn, I'm so sorry!"
"N-No, no," I finally bring myself into speaking up, feeling my cheeks burn bright red. "I, um, I actually... liked it. A lot. Sorry if I scared you, I just wasn't expecting it. I don't mind, really," I insist as he continues looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.
"You sure?"
"Yeah!" I smile, bringing him for a quick kiss before he's trailing down my neck again.
Frank's hands go down my body, experimentally at first and then squeezing my hips again, receiving another reaction this time, including just a soft gasp as I push my hips up – a shiver runs down my spine with it, a nice one. Fuck.
"Damn..." Frank breathes, hands running down to my thighs then up again to slide under my shirt. "It's a bit early, maybe–" he shrugs, looking at me, "–but... is it okay if..."
Holy hell. "Of course," I say without thinking much – he continues to stare, so I nod.
"Fuck yeah," he mutters, lips against mine for a few seconds before he's pulling my shirt over my head and the expression on his face carries such admiration that I can't help but to feel embarrassed for a moment. He never lets me cover myself, nonetheless, hands flying to my waist to hold firmly onto it as he's pressing kisses from my stomach to my hip. "No, seriously–" he sits up again, "–how can someone be so perfect?" He seems to be talking mostly to himself, getting rid of his shirt.
"Dunno." I grin. "How does it feel to be so perfect, baby?"
Frank exhales shakily. "You'll be the death of me and I ain't even joking." He presses a kiss to my collarbone, starting to nibble down at the skin again, trailing down to my chest, lips sometimes lingering over my breasts – sure as hell he leaves a few marks behind, considering how invested he gets.
Something tells me he doesn't know what to focus on. His hands never stay in the same place for too long, going down my thighs then trailing up to my waistband, up my torso, and then he repeats it.
"C'mon," I mutter, placing his hands on my waistband. He's a bit hesitant, but quickly undoes the buttons and starts pulling it down – I help him, kicking the pants away in the end.
A string of curses slip past Frank's lips as he quickly gets rid of his jeans too and, when coming back, he kneels down between my legs this time, spreading them apart. Our lips are yet again locked in a kiss, different from the others, more heated up and urgent this time as we hold onto each other. I play with the hair on the back of his neck and tug onto it instead at the feeling of his hands around my ass, groping.
"Frank, damn," I breathe quietly for a second we pull apart and, opposite to earlier, he gets the hint and does it again, humming against my lips. Once he stops groping, his hands just run along my skin, up and down my body, sometimes lingering. The most lovesick look decorates his face when he pulls away. My heart.
I place my hands on Frank's shoulders as I sit up, changing our positions. He observes me with wide eyes and I smile at him before pressing kisses to his neck, leaving behind a hickey before I can go lower and lower until my fingers are around the waistband of his boxers and I pause, looking up at him, and continue after he nods.
Frank's already half hard, a breath hitching in his throat as, after discarding his boxers, I assume my previous position.
Even if it's not the first time I've done that, this nervousness still lies under my skin as I wrap a hand around him, pumping him lightly before wrapping my lips around the head experimentally. He breathes sharply.
Only halfway through it that I allow myself to look up at Frank, pausing for a moment after finding out he's been watching, propped up on his elbows, eyes focused on me and jaw slack, but I don't look away, hollowing my cheeks instead and watching him break under my gaze, letting go of all the tension for a second.
I repeat the motions a few times and pull away, licking up along the underside, around the tip, and he's suddenly pulling me away – eyes wide and face flushed this time.
Frank mumbles something I can't quite understand, but it doesn't really matter. He moves closer, both of us soon assuming the position we were in minutes ago, pressed against each other. Now, he removes my underwear and his hand slips between us, however.
Pleasure is sent ringing up my spine at the feeling of Frank's fingers slipping past my lips, quickly finding my clit and wasting no time on working his thumb on it while a couple of fingers tease my entrance. Moans just escape my throat easily after he breaks the kiss, mouthing his way until the inside of one of my thighs – he bites and sucks on the skin there. His tongue is suddenly there, then, against my clit, working around it before being replaced by his lips and my vision goes fucking blank when I can feel him sucking on it.
"Fuck," Frank curses once pulling away, moving to frantically rummage through the nightstand's drawer; I groan at the loss of touch, pushing my hips up into nothing.
Hearing the sound of foil being torn makes me understand what's happening, and I watch him rush to slip the condom on, giving us a moment to catch our breath before he's positioning himself, a hand on my hip whilst another holds himself up.
"Tell me if there's something wrong, okay?" he asks slowly, "I'll stop right away. Don't be afraid."
"Same to you," I say softly, cupping his face to pull him for a soft, quick kiss.
Frank smiles with a nod and looks down before I can feel him against my entrance, pushing in slowly. I wrap my arms around his shoulders tightly, feeling his chest vibrate against mine with the low moan coming from him, replaced by a sigh once he sinks in completely. He starts moving right away, hips jerking experimentally before attaining a heavy and slow pace which doesn't last long due to how needy we are already.
I gasp at how he thrusts in harder, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to hold him close and having my legs around his hips, instinctively.
Curses and praises are breathed into my ear among moans, somehow making the pleasure pool down in my lower stomach even more intensely, summed up to feeling his hands groping on my ass again, fingers sinking into the skin.
"You're just so perfect, (y/n)," he babbles, "and even better that now you're all mine."
Suppressing a louder moan turns out to be impossible at the feeling of Frank's hips reaching a certain angle and, soon, the answer I had in my slips away from my grasp and all there's left is just how good he feels. I travel a hand up to his hair, remembering how he reacted to it earlier, and tug on it in a form of response, though also wanting to hear how pathetically he moans at it.
"'M gonna cum," I manage to say before being cut off by a moan, arching my back.
"Me too, babe," he groans, "almost there."
Frank pauses, adjusting himself so a hand is under my thigh and another on the mattress for major support and his thrusts are suddenly harsher. I throw my head back at the same time, holding onto him tightly, and it doesn't take long for all the pleasure that had been building up so far to unravel at once – it apparently triggers the same on him, considering how tight his grasp gets whilst a higher pitched moan comes from him.
Coming down from the high, I feel almost numb, in a good way. Frank pulls away and I'm only aware of him when he's lying down next to me, both of us breathing heavily and unable to do anything aside from staring at the ceiling for a long moment.
"Damn, I love you so much, so much," he mumbles again.
I breathe a chuckle, feeling him cuddling up to me, arms wrapped around me. "And I love you, dumbass." I press a kiss to his head.
"My girlfriend now, right?" he asks. "Nevermind, you don't get to choose." He chuckles, though it quickly dies down. "Just kidding, okay? Tell me to and I'll fuck off."
I laugh, still breathless. "Of course I am. I didn't confess for nothing."
#frank iero x reader#frank iero imagine#frank iero#mcr#mcr fanfic#mcr x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#x reader#female reader#n*fw#my post#my chemical romance#fluff#smut#imagine#oneshot#requested
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