#miss molly mumbles

[yeahyeahmoveit]

Mullet Wearing Asshole - chapter 1 - billy h. x fem!oc.

𓉸ྀི We are gathered here today...to celebrate the beginning of MWA. 𓉸ྀི

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MWA master list

cw: not great capitalization...sorry, loves.

a/n: hi my loves!! sorry it took a few days to post, writing block has been hitting me like a fucking train recently. anywho, this chapter was hard for me to decide what I wanted to start with, but I like how it turned out!!

of course, if you have any questions or suggestions leave em in the comments or my ask box!

song for this chapter: (i know its teccccchnicallllyyy '85....shut your pie hole.)

-- ౨ৎ 006/june -- october 23, 1984 c

౨ৎ -- ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ ꜰʟᴀꜱʜ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍᴇ, my heart pounds in my chest at the god awful, familiar room. the ugly cream walls drenched in thick blood as I stand on wobbly feet, dr. ellis lay with her neck stretched in an inhumane manner. i shriek, and suddenly my eyes shoot open as i blink the horrible dream or rather flashback away, I'm met with the comfortable yellow walls, damaged roof, and my bed. I'm home.

I curl over the side of the bed, I let out a shaky sigh of relief as i see eleven sleeping peacefully in the bunk under mine, the warm hue of the sun illuminating her face enough to see the outline of her short curls and nose bridge. the bed groans under me as my back presses down to the mattress again. i count back from 10 in my head, hopper always claimed it calmed him down to count backward when he was stressed, but maybe taking mental health advice from an alcoholic wasn't super wise.

Once regulated back to my normal breathing, i assumed id probably wouldn't be able to sleep the extra 20 minutes before my alarm. my feet connect with the old wooden ladder as i take the steps one at a time. once on the floor i double-check that eleven is truly there and safe. rubbing my puffy eyes, i reach over for my walkman on the dresser, sliding the headphones on as i walk out of the room. "Just Another Day" plays quietly through the plastic.

Hopper fell asleep on the recliner again, i snort out a quiet laugh as i walk on the tops of my toes, avoiding the squeaky floor as i make it to the cupboard, grabbing a glass to fill it with the water from the sink, placing it on the cluttered tv tray next to Hoppers extended legs, i grab the remote and turn off the static tv screen.

the bathroom door creaked shut behind me as i lazily closed it with a swift wave of my hand. my eyes meeting my own as i glanced in the dirty mirror, i turned the cold water on, splashing the liquid on my sleepy face. i shuddered at the temperature, if the nightmare hadn't woken me up enough, that always did the trick. i reached for the concealer tube, swiping the makeup over the "006" embedded in my wrist. once the blue numbers were faint enough i patted some power onto it. Nancy taught me all about concealers and blushes last year, she was always sweet to me, which i appreciated greatly.

i looked up again, seeing the sunken circles under my eyes, i slid the concealer applicator over them, and a few red marks on my cheek. Eventually, once i was happy enough with the poorly blended makeup. i hummed quietly to the end vocals of the song as i left the bedroom, i slid back into El and i's room, she was already up which didn't surprise me much.

"hey sleepyhead," i said smiling softly in her direction as i slid the headphones off my ears, letting them rest in the crooks of my neck.

"hi," she yawned, he feet swung over the side of her bed. "why are you up early?"

i was quiet for a moment, deciding against telling her about the nightmare. not wanting to worry her. "no reason" i shrugged as i dug in the dresser.

i could practically feel the unamused look she was had. "nightmares?" she asked bluntly, even though we weren't blood sisters, she sure did know me like i was.

i sighed, sliding off my pj shorts and sliding on light-washed jeans. "no, silly. just woke up early because I went to bed early."

"you lie."

god she really has been having a horrible attitude from not being able to go outside, i understood it, but for her safety she needed to be safe within the shack.

"el-"

"no! you lie. friends- sisters don't lie.''

i had heard that line more times than i could count in the past year. sometimes she made it difficult not to side with hopper, mike was truly a pain in the rear end. "eleven, sometimes what i say is true!"

she huffed in response as he got up to walk out, before stopping at the door. "if you see mi-"

"eleven." i said in a soft warning, every day without fail she'd beg and plead for me to tell mike that she was fine and alive. poor girl, i truly did feel bad, i wanted her to experience the normalities of life that thankfully i was able too after everything. but i couldn't go against what Hopper thought was best.

she mumbled something incoherently before slamming the door shut with her mind, i heard Hopper groan and groggily yell something. sometimes i wonder if i'd really be that bad off still in the lab.

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"jesus, june." nancy whined as she ran her thumbs under my eyes.

"that rhymed." i said grinning.

i glanced up at the pitiful smile on the girls face. "did you even try to blend this out?" she sighed, her warm thumb pads patting on my pale skin.

"hey, leave the girl alone, i heard unblended makeup is so in right now!" steve said with a chuckle before being elbowed in the side by jonathan.

"sarcasm?" i asked nancy in a small voice, drawing my eyes away from steve.

"sarcasm."

"can you guys please shut up, for like 5 seconds?" Jonathan said in a grumpy tone as he hung another picture. each time i had to remind myself about hyperbole when people spoke like that, i had hoped to get use to it soon and not need to think about it every time.

steve slid around the table to look at the freshly developed picture, squinting from the red lights throughout the room. "is that-"

nancy saw it the same moment i did. "steve-"

"oh my god it is! that is billy! why do you even need pictures of that jerk?? he doesnt even look good on camera!" steve rambled out his complaints as his eyes darted around the multiple pictures. nancy moved to stand next to Jonathan as i stood behind steve trying to look over his shoulder to see what the fuss was about.

the three of them continued to quip comments back and forth. in the short time i had known steve it was really evident how fragile his ego was. poor guy. i wasn't interested in the bickering, i took the opportunity to look at the pictures.

the boy in them was the new kid, he was a grade older than me, but the same grade as steve, nance, and Jonathan. i ran my eyes down the pictures, one of them was the guy standing near what i guessed was his locker, surrounded by tommy h. and carol. yikes, i know those use to be steves friends.

another one was of him playing basketball, his pretty hair wet with sweat, a cocky smirk on his face as he eyed down his competition, like a hawk hunting prey. wowza. a funny feeling in my heart freaked me out a bit, it was racing like it did when i had a horrible nightmare, but i didn't feel scared? ignoring it, my eyes moved to another one, my slightly open jaw shut tightly with a frown, he had that same smirk, but this one was...different. he was talking to one of the cheerleaders. a strange feeling had me wanting to be that cheerleader, or rather just have him look at me like that.

i was quickly thrown off from gawking at the pictures as i felt steves hand on my elbow, spinning me around to face him. i already missed those pictures. "wha-"

"no. no! Absolutely not!" steve scolded like i was a puppy in trouble. i was confused.

"what did i do wrong?" i asked, genuinely worried i did something.

steve gave that same dang pitty expression as he softened up. "dont go near him, okay? you see him and you b-line the other way."

i looked over to nancy and jonathan with a confused look before bringing my attention back to steve.

"why not?" i asked with a slight tilt to my head.

"because...i-" steve huffed, pinching his nose bridge before bringing his hands to my shoulders. "i know his type. he's a bad person. he will hurt you, june."

my eyes doubled in size. "does he work for papa?"

jonathan must have been fed up with this conversation as he took over moving -- or rather shoving steve to the side. "he doesn't work for papa. but he's damn near close to seeming like it. he will...use you, you're fresh meat to people like him. You're innocent and they want to use that!"

i thought they were being rather dramatic. "You're acting like he'll even notice me! i blend in well!" i said, defending myself.

"yeah well, blending isn't necessarily...your best ability," Jonathan said gently, nancy scoffed quietly. my brows furrowed down.

"in short, he's a mullet-wearing asshole. simply ignore him and stay away! i- no we don't want you or him near each other, like, at all!" Jonathan said, awkwardly patting my shoulder.

before i could retort, the loud bell rang through the room, nancy and steve exchanged a few words before jonathan grabbed my elbow to lead me out of the room and walk me to class.

the phrase repeated over, and over, and over in my mind. "mullet wearing asshole". i had so many questions and was so curious. but i would have time to think about all that as i shoved the picture of billy and the cheerleader deeper in my pocket.

thank you for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated!! do NOT repost my work.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

I KNOW it's an April Fools joke but what gives them the right

[bigfootsmom]

tumblr is a super great and functioning website and isn’t showing me I’ve been tagged in posts 🤩 !!! so if you’ve tagged me in something and I never interacted with it, that’s why

[fangisms]

summertime at the burrow

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

Pairings: Best Friend!Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

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

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

"Good morning, trouble."

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

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

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

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

“I have.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

“Sorry, mum!”

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

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

“Sweating like swine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley—”

“Oh, none of that, call me Molly.”

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

“Thank you, Molly!”

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

“Everything processing alright up there?”

You nod.

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

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

“That’ll do!”

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

“You better start running, trouble.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m going to let them go.”

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

“You’re joking.”

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

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

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

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

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

You grin.

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

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

“What?”

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

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

“Unrelated.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fred!”

“An eye for an eye, sugarplum.”

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

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“Oh, bring it on,” Fred teases.

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

“Your move, trouble.”

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

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

“You’re supposed to be a gentleman!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So…”

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

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

“Get it over with already!”

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

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

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

“Took you long enough.”

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

“Oh, you’re trouble, Weasley.”

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

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

masterlist

[emmie-tt]

Can you write a harry potter x reader where the reader is harry gf and she got kidnapped into the malfoy Manor (in dh) and when Harry, Ron and hermione got captured there too, he finds her and he take her back to fleur and Bill cottage and he takes care of her because she got injured really bad while being there? <3 (also her having a lot of scars/marks and being insecure about them but harry will kiss them all and tell her they are perfect) and one night when she finally Trys to leave the bed (because her legs are really shaky) they go out and stay in front of the sea and they talk about their future? Sorry this is long hope you can make it <3

My Protector

Harry Potter x Reader

CW: Angst (Kinda) , Mental Problems, Mentions of blood and wounds, Mentions of Scars, Female Reader

How did you get here...As you lay on the cold hard ground of the Malfoy Manor your whole life flashes in front of your eyes. You had always been the quiet kid. Never causing drama. Never getting involved in drama. Never acting out. Hardly ever going to parties unless Harry had went with you.

Speaking of. Harry had been frantically searching for you, the moment he realized you were missing it felt like hi whole world stopped.

You didn't know that though. Not yet at least.

The lightheaded feeling began a few minutes ago. Whether it was from blood loss or dehydration was also unknown. You did know that it had been three days since you've had water and you also knew that gash in your forehead had been left unattended for quite a few hours so whichever was causing the lightheaded feeling was anyone's guess.

You heard a gasp from Luna Lovegood who was also being held captive but instead of reacting you ignored it choosing to focus on not passing out and praying to Godricks that someone helped and got you out of here...

The feeling of someones hands on your face brought you out of your haze and suddenly a fuzzy yet familiar voice was cutting through the silence

"Y/n...Y/n can you hear me?"

As your vision comes into focus your eyes widen as you realize who was knelt next to you.

"Harry..." you mumble as you weakly reach up and cup his face

He smiles weakly back, seeing you in so much pain and honestly so close to death...

"Hi sweetheart...I'm gonna get you out of here okay? Get you some help, alright?"

you nod slight and he slides one arm under your knees and the other under your upper torso. Picking you up bridal style he quickly makes his way out the things he noticed about the woman he loved more than anything was how much weight you had loss, the blood dripping down his arm from your forehead and that dazed almost lifeless look in your eyes.

He picks up the pace in his steps and as soon as the coast was clear he held you closer and floo you both off to the cottage.

------ At The Cottage ------

Harry quickly sat you down on the couch, the dizziness had took over and you had loss consciousness a few minutes prior. Molly gasps as she rushes over and helps Harry lay you on the couch.

She asses the wound on your head before quickly jumping into action and cleaning then stitching the rather deep wound

Harry stood at the end of the couch the whole time. His eyes never once leaving you as he watched Molly clean the wound and stitch you up.

He felt completely guilty for this whole thing, he had promised from the day he met you to protect you. You were nothing more than a ray of sunshine in his extremely dark life, the reason he lived was you and seeing you lay on the couch unconscious and injured absolutely broke him. He could not loose anyone else.

After Molly was finished she stepped back and walked over to Harry wrapping her arms around him in a tight motherly hug.

"She will be alright..." she mumbles softly into his hair as he begins to sob.

------ A Little While Later ------

Harry had fallen asleep sat on the floor next to the couch where you had been laid. His head rested uncomfortably on the edge as his hand gripped onto yours tightly. His whole body reacts when he feels you hand twitch slightly. His hands snap open and he quickly looks up at you right when your eyes slowly flutter open.

"Y-Y/n? Sweetheart, are you awake?" You groan softly as you reach up and feel at the now bandaged wound. Harry gently grabs your hand and pulls it back down, planting a soft kiss on your palm as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Hey...You're alright love...I'm right here..." He whisper softly as tears flood your eyes

"Harry..."

He stares at you sympathetically for a moment before, gently as possible, lifting you into his arms and holding you close to his chest. His hands rubbing up and down your back slowly as you sob into his shoulder where your head is resting.

He feels his own tears rise but he chokes them down to comfort you, something he knew you needed.

After a long few minutes you calm down and slowly sit up, ignoring the pounding that happens in your head at the movement. You hands wrap tightly around him and you stare down at him silently as he stares back before gently kissing your forehead leading you to let out a sigh and lay your head back down on his shoulder.

Harry noticed the shift in your personality. The silence that used to be replaced with constant chatter about things only Hermione could truly understand. The fear in your eyes that used to be full of light and shine. He noticed it all and it killed him...

"My love...Lets get you some food alright? And maybe some orange juice?"

He waits for your reply and when you nod he immediately stands with you in his arms and makes his way into the kitchen where he goes to place you in a chair only to be stopped when you tighten your grip and mutter out a soft "No..."

He stops in his tracks and stands back up with you in his arms, glancing down at your face

"No what love? You don't want me to put you down?" When you nod, confirming his question he sighs softly but obeys your wish and walks over to the fridge and pulls out a pitcher of orange juice that he pours into a cup and hands to you. As you sip at the juice he quickly makes a sandwich before taking a seat at the dining table and slowly feeds you the sandwich.

When you finish it a few minutes later he lets you finish the orange juice before standing and placing the dishes in the sink, letting the magic do its thing and clean the dishes, Harry makes his way down a hall and into the room Bill had given him to stay in.

He gently lays you down in the bed causing you to let out a soft whimper, he gently kisses your forehead

"Shh sweetheart, i'm right here...Let me get you some clean clothes okay?"

You hesitantly nod and he rushes off into the closet where he grabs an old shirt of his and a random pair of boxers before quickly making his way back to you where he finds you crying.

The guilt in his gut only grows and he walks over gently rubbing your back, you climb into his lap and he instantly lets you, wrapping his arms around your waist and rocking you gently as you sob.

Once you calm down he coaxes you off of him for just long enough to get you bathed and changed into the outfit before helping you into bed where he climbs in after you, letting you lay on top of him- rather uncomfortably, before holding you close as you fall asleep a few moments later.

And that is how most days go...

A few weeks passed and your physical condition had improved, the gash had almost completely healed, leaving a scar. All the bruises had faded and the small cuts had healed leaving their own small scars across your body.

Your mental health was another thing...While it hadn't worsened it really hadn't improved either...Harry could finally leave you alone but not for to long, you refused to leave the bed and talking still came very rarely for you.

Harry had left the room a few moment ago, to do something...He had said but truly you hadn't been listening.

Looking around the room your eyes land on the mirror hung on the wall, more specifically the reflection in the mirror. As you stared down your own reflection, seeing the large scar across your forehead caused disgust to rush over you in waves.

You slowly sit up in the bed letting the blanket fall to your waist, being in only your bra, all of the small scars that now littered your body were on full display. Your hands slowly ran over each of them, picking and pulling at them almost as if you were trying to get them off of you.

You were so lost in your own world that you didn't notice harry stepping into the room until you saw him in the mirror causing you to jump.

"What are you doing sweetheart?" He asks softly as he climbs onto the bed and wraps his arms around your waist after gently grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your skin

"N-Nothing..."

He clearly didn't believe you but instead of saying anything he gently pushed you back onto the bed and yanked the blanket off of you completely causing you to gasp and wrap your arms around his shoulders. "H-Harry! What are you doing?!"

He shrugs slightly as he leans down and kisses your forehead, right on the scar. "So pretty..."

Your whole body heats up as he leans down to your stomach area and presses soft kisses to each scar he could see as he mumbles praises.

"Beautiful..."

"Gorgeous..."

"Pretty..."

Any praise he could think of was flying out of his lips as he worshiped you, your face was the so ho from being so flustered that you couldn't stand it. This was exactly what you needed...That disgusted feeling melted away with every kiss and praise he gave you.

After a moment he looks back up at you, his glasses sat on the tip of his nose almost falling off. You giggle softly pushing his glasses back up his face, a smile appearing on your face for the first time in weeks.

Harry grins and moves up peppering kisses all over your face causing the small giggles to grow even more as you gently push him away

"My sweet girl" He says softly "Wanna take a walk with me? You seem in a good mood..."

You think for a long moment about the offer before ultimately nodding and slowly pulling yourself from the bed and into a standing position.

Harry smiles quickly following you out of the bed and helping you put your shoes on before putting his own on and leading you out of the cottage, the sun hitting your skin for the first time in weeks was an amazing feeling. You soaked it in for a moment before walking down the beach towards the water where you stop at the shore line letting the water wash over your sandal covered feet.

Harry slowly approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder as he gazes down on your face as you gaze out at the water

"What are you thinking about honey?"

You stay silent for a moment before leaning back against him "Our future..."

"Oh yeah? What about it?"

"I don't know...Just how- how everything is gonna end...With the war, the death eaters...he who should not be names..."

He sighs softly and kisses your cheek, before being taken you had no problem calling him Voldemort but now you were terrified..

"Nothing will happen to you again...Me, Ron and Hermione have a plane okay? Please don't worry about it..."

With a small nod you turn around in his arms and snuggle your face against his chest "How many kids do you want..?"

He looks down slightly shocked at your question before thinking for a moment "Honestly, it wouldn't matter to me...As long as I have you that's all that matters...What about you baby? How many?"

"Three...Two boys and a girl..."

He chuckles, your answer was instant with absolutely not hesitation behind it. "I'll do my best to help fulfill that dream my love..."

You giggle and slowly close your eyes as you rest against him. It finally felt like you could see a light at the end of a very dark tunnel. He had been everything you needed to get through such a rough time. Your love. Your support but most importantly your protector.

THE END

Oh. My. Goodness. I think this is my best work yet, I hope this is up to your expectations love!! And I am so so sorry it took so long to get this out there!!

[kinzis-writing]

Three Years | George Weasley

Kinzi's 25 days of Christmas: Blogmas Day 2.

Summary: In which Y/N and George have been together for three years, and it takes a mistake for him to take the next step of their relationship.

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem! Reader

Warning(s): mentions of wizard war, mentions of death (not major character and not specified),

This could have ended way better, also the fact that this imagine is shorter than I like as well. I am doing my best at making my Blogmas posts as long as possible, but sometimes it takes me hours to plan the plot of these short stories out. I am a perfectionist, so that is why I never re-read and edit any mistakes because I am afraid of wanting to go back and change the whole story. *Fred did not die in the war*

Three years, it has been three years since George had grown a pair and asked Y/N to be his girlfriend. Since then, there had been many events happen in the course of their relationship. They had moved past the awkwardness of the beginning of the relationship, they had gone through their firsts that every relationship goes through, and everything in between.

Their relationship had survived the second wizard war but had challenges. Seeing as Fred had to be taken care of because of an accident and then George getting hurt before then. It was a hectic and stressful time for the couple, but now everything was back to normal. Well, normal as everything could be after losing some of the nicest people.

Christmas was tomorrow and Fred and George had many customers in and out of the joke shop. Whether it was for Christmas gifts or something before going home for a Christmas prank. They had many customers a day and George had found it hard to be able to see Y/N during the holiday season. The joke shop was closing early and they would stay closed until after Christmas because they all knew the wrath of Molly if they did not show up on time or if they left early.

On Christmas day, Molly was having dinner at the newly built burrow and told everyone that dinner was at 5 o'clock sharp. That morning, George had gotten up to wrap the present for Y/N that he had spent a decent amount of money only to find it missing from the place that he had put it.

"Hey, Fred." George called knocking on his bedroom door and walking in, "have you seen-" He stopped when he noticed Fred's girlfriend wearing the necklace and earring set that he bought specifically for Y/N. The reason he had picked them out was because he had seen her looking at them and she refused to buy them because of the price they costed. “Found them.” He mumbled to himself, his eyes not leaving the necklace.

He was sure that there had to be some sort of mix up. His twin would not steal his girlfriend’s gift on purpose. Instead of getting angry, George did what he believed was right, found Fred and asked him what he thought he was doing.

“I’m sorry,” Fred mumbled when he noticed the distressed look on George’s face. “I grabbed the wrong gift and before I could correct it she was so happy.” He trailed off making George groan. “You could give Y/N the gift I bought for Angela.” He suggested.

George thought about it for a moment, they had hidden their gifts in the same place. Meaning it was an easy mix up and he knew that Fred was telling the truth about grabbing the wrong box. Fred had planned on getting Angela a promise ring, and that gift would work if George hadn’t already given Y/N one of those almost a year ago.

“I’ll come up with something.” George mumbled before leaving his twin to himself. He had less than four hours to come up with the perfect gift for his girlfriend and he was determined to find it.

Four hours had flown by and by the time George and Fred joined everyone at the burrow, Y/N was already there. It wasn’t a shock to the twin, seeing as she was early to everything.

“You’re lucky you aren’t a minute later.” Y/N spoke as she walked up and greeted George from where she had been helping Molly. She had gotten there early knowing that it would be hectic if she didn't. "Molly has be waiting for you guys to arrive."

George gave her a quick kiss before going and putting their gifts under the tree. He wasn't sure how Y/N would like his gift, but he had come up with something... sentimental. Angelina had gone into the kitchen to see what the girls were up to, while Fred and George joined their brothers and Harry by the fire.

"I doubt that Ron even got me something." Hermione stated to Y/N who was setting the Table for Molly. "He's still so awkward about some things."

Y/N let out a small laugh, "I think that's just Ron." Y/N was a year between each group. Fred and George were a year older than her, and she was a year older than the golden trio, while being two years older than Ginny. "Hi, Angie." She greeted with a smile her eyes flickering to the earrings and necklace the girl was wearing. "I love your jewelry set! I wanted to buy the same one, but I didn't want to pay that price."

Angiela gave the younger girl a small smile, "Thank you, Fred got it for me." she replied before going over to greet Molly.

Dinner had come and gone within an hour and Molly had the kitchen cleaning itself. The family gathered around the fireplace as they got ready to open presents. Y/N was sitting on the floor, between George's legs as he sat on the couch. She was chatting with Hermione as they were talking about the after-holiday plans and if anything had to change.

"I think I am going to move." Y/N told Hermione as the girl played with the necklace she always wore. "The place I live at is getting worse and the landlord won't fix it."

Pretty soon the presents were being handed out by the Weasley's and everyone gathered knowing the Christmas tradition at the Weasley's house. Y/N had gotten George the thing he had been wanting for a while and he was beyond excited to receive the gift. It was unexpected and it made him nervous about her opening her gift.

"Can you go upstairs?" George asked Y/N as he noticed Molly hand her the gift that he had gotten her. "I would prefer you not open it in front of everyone." he mumbled quietly as the couple stood up and snuck off.

The pair in the room that they assumed was Ginny's for when she came back home just due to the looks of the room and so on. "There was a mix up of gifts this morning," George started as Y/N went to open her gift. "Fred gave Angela yours and-" He stopped talking when he noticed Y/N's reaction to what was in the box.

Wide eyes stared down at the little jewelry box, you would assume it would hold something that you could wear. Yet, it was nothing close to that. The key laid flatly in the velvet box, and y/n did not know what to think. "What Are-What are you asking?" she asked scared to assume.

Maybe this was a sign that she could come and go as she pleases instead of knocking, or maybe it was exactly what she thought it was. "Will you move in with us, well me?" He asked carefully. "I know it's not expensive and like I said, Fred gave Angela yours by mistake and-"

His sentence was interrupted by Y/N stepping forward and wrapping her arms around the boy she had loved for four years, even though they had only been together for three. "It's perfect." She assured to ease his nerves at the fact that his gift was something he already had, or just the price of making a copy of the key. "You didn't have to get me anything."

George shrugged, "I figured it was time to take the next step, it just took a push from Fred." he spoke softly to the girl he knew he was so lucky to have.

"Well, you just saved me the stress of apartment hunting." She replied back as she grabbed the key out of the box and handed him the box back, knowing that it probably belonged to Fred's other gift. "I love you so much, you know that right?"

"Of course, love." George nodded with a smile on his face. "I love you as well." With that Y/N leaned forward and caught the Weasley's lips between hers. They kissed for a moment before pulling away, George with a cheeky grin, "I could have proposed instead."

Y/N's smile grew at the thought of eventually marrying George and becoming a Weasley herself. "That sounds like a plan for next year." She winked before kissing him one more time and leaving the room, him trailing behind her.

"Are you saying you'd rather live with me, instead of marrying me right now!?" He asked not knowing how to take the information if she were to confirm.

"I have to live with you first to see if we're compatible." She told him with a shrug, but she was joking. Regardless of what happened she knew that she would love him.

"What does that mean?"

I hated the way I ended this, but Blogmas day 2 is complete! I have been working on Blogmas, requests, and my Mattheo series so I have been busy. This is on top of having to study for my finals so.

[niceboyeds]

but daddy i love him (e.m)

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: sometimes you have to put the gossipers in their place, and sometimes you have to give them something to talk about. inspired by none other than the masterpiece that is The Tortured Poets Department!

contains: bullying, fluff, language, sexual innuendos if you squint, i think that's it but please reach out if i missed anything!

word count: 1.2K

a/n: hi babies I'm baaaack! with that said I'm rusty so please don't hurt my feelings lmao. i have an idea for a smutty pt. 2 if enough of you want it! okay here we go...

(tagging some mutuals so i don’t get lost in the blackhole: @luvmunson @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @munsonology @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @espressomunson 🫶)

masterlist

-----------------------------------

there was always something exciting about being with a bad boy. but then again, there was nothing “bad” about Edward Munson. he may get a bad rap but, aside from his lunchbox goodies, he is a gentleman before anything else. and a damn good lover. 

you sit in the diner with your friends, snickers and snide remarks could be heard all throughout the room and dozens of eyes burn into the back of your head for what felt like the millionth time. unfortunately that’s one of the prices to pay living in a small town like Hawkins.

Eddie is better than you, though, and doesn’t let it get the best of him. and while you know you could never physically fight someone, you still aren’t shy enough to threaten it. you are, to put it gently, less “reserved” with your words, and make sure to put the lonely housewives and their preppy children in their place about their assumptions of him. 

things have gotten worse as your dating life has expanded out beyond the four walls of Eddie’s quaint trailer or the few friendly drunks at the hideout once a week. you and Eddie both craved being together in public and decided long ago that you don’t care who has something to say about it. 

besides, you know who the real Edward Munson is, you don’t believe what the judgmental church-goers or ex-cheerleaders think of you. the only time it gets you is when you can see it hurting him. 

throughout lunch you keep one hand in his, feeling him tense up every so often when he hears his name come out of their mouths. 

“i wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak!” you hear from a group of your old classmates’ table followed by an eruption of laughter. 

Eddie squeezes your hand three times before letting go, scooting his chair out from the table and excusing himself to the restroom. the friends at your table all look to you for the next move, enough looks of defeat for you to end this once and for all. with a soft smile, you throw a $20 bill on the table and rise from your seat. 

“sorry guys.” you sigh, motioning for them to gather their things to leave as you push in your chair and make your way to the table across the room. Dustin trots his way to the restroom to grab Eddie as you hear Robin say your name softly, urging you to leave it be but everyone knows you can’t.

“hey guys! how are you?” you beam at your old friends, doing your best to smile at them. “Stacy, Lauren, Molly…” you exaggerate her name, informing her you heard her comment loud and clear. 

mumbles of good’s and small nods emit from them and their eyes bounce to one another nervously. “aw that’s so good to hear!” you beam, “i’m doing great too, in case you were curious. ya know, i couldn’t help but overhear you guys chatting over here and i just felt like i needed to come say hi.” their smiles drop immediately as you talk, and you let them sit in their fear of what you’ll say next. 

“yeah, you know what they say… once a bitch always a bitch, right?” silence fills the diner and you hear Max cough to cover her giggle at the door. 

“i’m sorry?” Lauren scoffs, genuinely unable to comprehend the fact that you might be putting them in their place. 

“aw, you should be. because let’s face it, it’s pretty embarrassing that we graduated years ago and you still act like this.” you look at them with pure disgust, knowing they haven’t changed in the slightest. you speak with confidence, your tone still friendly, “and to think you used to truly care for me.”

“w-we do still care for you. we just want what’s best for you.” Stacy chirps as the other two nod along with her.

“what’s best for me? pretending like you’re all some fucking saints walking around and saying you’re praying for me to ‘come to my senses’ as if i have no control over my own life? who i love is my choice, so save your prayers for yourself because you’re the most judgmental creeps i’ve ever met.”

you turn to leave, your sweet group of friends still standing by the door waiting for you, Eddie having joined them just in the heat of your argument. reaching for his hand, you crack open the door and turn one last time to their table. 

“and by the way? i’m having his baby!” their eyes widen with horror and their mouths fall agape as you follow Eddie through the door and giggle, skipping to be directly next to him.  

“woah, woah, woah?! you’re pregnant??” Steve asks, genuinely unsure as you laugh at his question. 

“no, i’m not. but oh my god did you see their faces??” 

Eddie chuckles alongside you, and you feel relieved he’s made light of the situation along with you. “yeah, not yet.”

~~~~~~~~

you sit on the couch with Eddie seated directly in front of you on the shaggy carpet. one by one you twirl his messy curls into ringlets with an unfathomable amount of hair products. you feel his once tense body relax against your knees as he twiddles with the frayed pieces of your blue jeans. 

“it’s true, y’know…” he says softly, barely above a whisper. 

“what’s that?” you ponder, curious more-so as to why his tone has saddened during your comfortable silence.

“what they all say. that you’d be better off with someone else- someone other than me..?”

“no, i don’t think they know what the hell they’re talking about.” your hands continue to work on his hair, with only a few sections left you couldn’t allow yourself to leave it be. But you continue to reassure him. 

“Eds, i don’t care that they think i shouldn’t be with you. i want to be with you. I love you. isn’t that what matters? not what all these bored-ass people think, but what we want?” 

“you… you love me?” he turns his head to face you once you drop the final curl back against his head. an ear to ear grin plastered on his face and his eyebrows wiggle. 

“of course i love you, silly. i love you more than i have the words to express.” you tell him truthfully, knowing in your heart that he is the man for you. 

“i love you too. i love you so fucking much.” 

he stands up from his crouching position, pulling you up from the couch with him. your lips instinctively crash into his. 

you interlock your fingers around his neck, trying to bring him closer to you as if you weren’t already impossibly close to him. you sloppily kiss each other before you pull away from him, a small string of saliva still connecting you to him as your lips separate. 

“eww!” you laugh, before pulling him by the hand and dragging him down the hallway to his bedroom. “come on, slow poke!”

“hey! i thought you said you weren’t having my baby.” he teased, bringing up the silly comment you had said earlier at the diner. 

“yeah, not yet.”

[imtryingbuck]

Too Late part two

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader. Fem!Reader x Conrad (whoever you picture)

Summary: part two of Too Late

Word count: 2,613

Warnings: angst. fluff. lies? Steve makes an appearance. 

Part 1

Masterlist

Now in the two years since she had left she finally felt at peace, she found herself.

~~~

For close to a year Conrad would visit Y/n in her little sanctuary that sat alone in the woodland area, for those months Y/n didn’t trust him of course she didn’t he was a member of Hydra, the bad guys who spend years and years destroying the goodness that was James Buchanan Barnes, destroyed and killed those that didn’t bow down to them and abide by their rules.

And while yes Conrad decided not to put a bullet in her head like she had asked for him to do, choosing to open her eyes to the betrayal, he chose to give her a second chance in life he was still the guy apart of a terrible organisation.

Even though she didn’t trust him she did have to admit that she appreciated his help, appreciated his company. Every time he visited he brought supplies and food for her, he even showed up once with a van that had a ray of different livestock in the back so she could start a little farm up like she had wanted to do.

Y/n tried, she really did try to not get too comfortable with Conrad but he was just so easy to talk to about everything and anything, she appreciated that he never once mentioned Steven and his betrayal with Natasha. She hated how funny he was, she hated how much she missed him when he left to go back to the monstrous organisation that was Hydra. Hated how he occupied her mind when he wasn’t there helping around the house fixing things and only accepting a nice cold glass of homemade lemonade from her.

She definitely hated how much he looked so attractive when he chopped fresh firewood for her.

She especially hated that.

It wasn’t fair, he was supposed to be the enemy yet he had treated her better in those few months than anyone had ever.

It had been exactly four months, three weeks and two days since Conrad had last been to visit and she hated it. Though she had the many animals to keep her company she had to admit she was kind of going a bit crazy.

Molly the cow would look at her like she was insane when Y/n would be perch upon on the wooden little stool that Conrad had made for her, talking to the cow as she milked her. Y/n swore that one time the black spotted animal rolled her eyes at the woman once.

Y/n walked into the pigpen fussing over the month old piglets that were the most precious little things she had ever laid eyes on. When her leg was knocked she looked down to see Grumpy, named perfectly for his grumpiness, she patted him on his head telling him to hold on for food, chuckling lightly when he snorted in response. The moment she finished putting the food in the trough she heard the unmistakable sound of a car coming up the gravelled driveway.

Nobody had ever come up to where she lived apart from…

“H-he’s back” she mumbled to herself before dropping the bucket with a clank and running out finding herself nearly tripping over her own foot when she had to turn back around to shut the gate of the pigpen.

Running to the front of the house she saw the same car Conrad always came in, her eyebrows pulled together when she saw two figures sitting in the front, as the car got closer her heart started beating faster as she noticed Conrad and another figure she had come to know because of Steve.

“Y/n-“ Conrad shouts as soon as he gets out of the driver side door “-god I’ve missed you” he jogs over to her and wraps his arms around her frame, pulling back when he notices she doesn’t hug him back but is staring at the other person who stands by the car. “I can explain everything I promise”

“It’s nice seeing you again Y/n.”

Two sets of eyes moved back and forth as Y/n paced around in front of them. One was nervous the other didn’t care about her reaction, well lack of one. Conrad went to speak but the other person in the room shook their head.

“Y-you lied-“

“I didn’t lie-“

“You didn’t tell me the truth!”

“Because I couldn’t, I’m sorry Y/n”

“It’s true Y/n. He couldn’t tell you the truth”

The truth being that Conrad was never a member of Hydra but a SHIELD agent. He had been undercover for four years. There were a handful of agents that were sent undercover and Conrad was one of them, the plan was to take Hydra down from the inside.

From what Conrad had said that it had worked, they had successfully captured members of Hydra one by one.

“Bu-but your meant to be the enemy”

“Yet you trusted him”

Y/n’s eyes squinted at the man sat next to Conrad “I understand that I’ve got real bad judgment when it comes to trusting men Fury”.

“I understand your confused but to be honest Conrad never lied to you-“

“I’ve been thinking he’s the bad guy from the moment he kidnapped me!”

“And yet you trusted him enough to let him come into your home”

“I-shut up. Okay so why are you telling me now?”

“I’ll let him fill you in on that. I’m going to go, it was nice meeting you again Y/n, truly. Goodbye”

Y/n watches Fury stand up fixing his trench coat before nodding to both of them then leaving. Taking the car with him. Leaving with a promise, promising her that Steve doesn’t and will never know that she’s alive.

Conrad’s eyes never moved away from Y/n, patting the seat next to him sighing a breath of relief when she sits. “I’m sorry for not telling you the truth about me, I wasn’t allowed to.”

“No I understand, sorry for overreacting”

“You didn’t-“ he chuckles “I missed you”

“I missed you too”

“So I erm I-I told Fury I want to retire and he’s accepted it, bu-but I was wondering i-if you would have me, here I mean”

“You want to say here? With me?”

“I haven’t got any family anymore a-and I feel happy here”

Conrad hated the silence that followed, he was about to tell her that it didn’t matter, that he would still come to visit, that he was sorry for overstepping when she finally spoke.

“We’ve got piglets. They are the cutest things ever, want to come look?”

“”We”?”

“Well yeah you live here now so…”

He moved so fast wrapping his arms around her, bringing her into his chest. Mumbling thank you over and over again.

In a way Conrad went off script when he took Y/n from her shared apartment with Steve, it was Hydra’s plan all along. The plan was to find a way to destroy Captain America. They had heard from a Hydra agent that was undercover with SHIELD that America’s golden boy had a girlfriend but was cheating on her with the black widow. The plan was to use Y/n as a way to get Steve to stop destroying their ‘hard work’. They were going to blackmail him, telling him that they won’t tell Y/n about his straying ways as long as he did what they said.

It was foolproof as the double agent told them that Steve was in love with Y/n.

Even though he had been cheating on her with someone she thought was her friend.

But Conrad knew that Hydra would hurt her just to get Steve to break. And that wasn’t something he could stand by and watch so he told the team he had been in charge of that he had gotten word that it was time to go ahead and kidnap Y/n. He did have to admit that it was admirable that she put up a fight against ten men who were ten times bigger than her, he hated it when Mitch punched her.

Due to having eyes on him he had to act as if the tears that were coming out from her pretty eyes wasn’t bothering him when she watched her boyfriend and friend sleeping together. When the Avengers showed up he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling as Steve tries to make a pathetic attempt at explaining his betrayal. He did have to force himself to stifle the laugh that tried to make its way out when Natasha had tears in her eyes hearing that she meant nothing to Steve.

Conrad’s heart clenched at hearing that she was pregnant because she had already asked him to kill her, a thing that he agreed to do even if he didn’t want to. But hearing that she had lost her unborn baby made his heart clench even harder.

Getting her out of the rundown facility was easy as his team were to focused on keeping their eyes and guns trained on the Avengers. Getting her to the farmhouse that sat alone in the middle of nowhere was easy even if she was driving him mad when she kept asking him where he was taking her.

Fury found out that it was Conrad that had ‘killed’ Y/n a few months back when he had to meet the man to talk about how the progress was going. Fury was angry. He had met Y/n a handful of times he thought she was sweet, nice, definitely didn’t deserve to have her life to be ended the way it was. That was until Conrad told him the truth.

For the four months, three weeks and two days since he hadn’t seen her it had drove him insane he wanted so badly to reach out to her and let her know that he was thinking about her, that he was definitely coming back to her. Fury made him go no contact with her until the dust settled around them.

Conrad begged Fury not to let Steve know about Y/n being alive or where she was, Nick wasn’t a stupid man he knew that Conrad had clearly grown fond of Y/n. Finding out what Steve had done, he gave the man pacing around in his office his word. Steve would never find out.

“Con! We’ve got a runner!” Y/n screamed trying to chase after one of the pigs who decided to make a run for it. “She’s coming your way”

“I’ve got eyes on her! I’ve got her!” He cheered picking up the animal, who actually sighed in defeat.

“Shes so fast it’s unbelievable”

“I know, she was on a mission to get away” he laughed placing the pig back down into the pen.

“Her mission fail- what?”

“I love you”

“I love you too”

“Gimme a kiss- wait…”

It had been two years since Conrad had joined Y/n at the farmhouse after retiring, in those two years Conrad had confessed his feelings for her, he understood that she probably needed some time since how her last relationship had ended so he was completely shocked when she jumped into his arms and kissed him. Through them two years they lived happily in complete ignorance of the world around them.

“What?” Following Conrad’s eyes looking up at the sky she frowned. “That’s one of SHIELD’s jets Con…”

“I know. Stay close to me okay”

“Obviously”

They watch in silence as the jet lowers on the field just at the back of their home, the door comes open and the ramp begins to descend. They share confused glances at seeing no one making an appearance, when someone finally stands in the doorway Y/n gasps.

It’s been four years to that day since she last saw him. Those four years weren’t kind to him honestly. His hair was longer and he was even sporting a beard. He looked bigger in muscle though his face was slimmer, his once bright blue eyes were now sunken and dull.

“H-how did he find us?” She whispered unable to move her eyes away from him.

Steve Rogers had found them.

And unfortunately was now making his way down the ramp.

Since Y/n had her eyes trained on his approaching figure she didn’t notice the rest of the Avengers making their exit from the jet. Even Loki and Bruce were there.

“You-you made out that you’ve been dead for four years and yet here you are shacking it up with the enemy” his voice was deeper than it use to be.

“How did you find her?” Conrad asked standing in front of her, not liking the way Steve’s eyes moved up and down her body.

“You let me believe that you was dead baby, for four years I’ve-“

“What are you doing here?” She cut him off.

“Fury. He’s not as sneaky as he thinks.”

“Why are you here Steven?”

“I want you back” Steve states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Not happening. Leave all of you”

“Baby I made a mistake-“

“Don’t come any closer Rogers. I mean it” it’s now Conrad’s turn to interrupt him. Steve cocks his head to the side and laughs. But does as the other man says.

“He’s Hydra baby-“

“He was undercover for SHIELD. Please leave now”

“Is that what he told you?”

“It’s what Fury told me. Leave”

“Just come home okay, I can be better please baby I love you”

“I’m already home. Tony, Bucky please get him gone”

Bucky looks at her with an unreadable expression on his face “it’s nice to see you again Y/n/n. Come on Steve she’s happy here let-“

“No. No because she isn’t. She can’t just run away and pretend she’s dead-“

“You was cheating on me Steven. With my so called friend as well. I’m happy here, I don’t want you anymore”

“Natasha meant and still means nothing to me baby, it was a mistake, one that I want to make up for. Please just come home”

“I don’t care, I stopped caring about you and her a long time ago. I won’t ask-“

“Just come home!” Steve shouts cutting her off.

“She is home! Just leave and move on”

Standing there Steve shakes his head slowly before looking back up to Y/n. “D-do you really love him?”

“I do”

“Does he make you happy?”

“He does”

Nodding, defeat and acceptance written on his face. “I really am sorry for everything I did Y/n, I-I never wanted to hurt you, I’m sorry truly.”

Leaving Conrad’s side she walks closer to Steve, standing in front of the man who she loved so much, the man who broke her heart. “I forgive you Steve, I’m happy now. Conrad is a great person and he makes me happy”

“I’m glad. I-I’ll always love you Y/n. Goodbye” Steve says before walking backwards and turning around to walk up to the jet. Everyone all except Natasha nods or waves to Y/n before following their captain.

Watching the jet leave Conrad moves closer to her wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing her neck. “You alright my love?”

“I’m more then alright, come on I’m starving and let’s not forget I am eating for two”

Hand in hand with Conrad she walks into their farmhouse seeing the positive side to seeing Steve again, it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

At first Steve cheating on her was the worst thing that ever happened to her, but now four years later she was finally happier than ever before with the man who loves her and their unborn baby.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @vicmc624 | @capsbestgirl77

[ellecdc]

Grounded (for til college)

CBBH-verse: Harry and Ron are read their Miranda Rights after the Flying Car Catastrophe of Second Year as requested by fans of the CBBH series 😊

Over the past eleven years, there have been many family meetings amongst the Potter, Black, Lupin, Weasley, Longbottom and Lovegood tribe.

A family meeting was called when a five-year-old Draco and Harry began fighting over who got to perform the big brother duties for Jasmine Potter, and then again a year later for Aurora Black.

A family meeting was called when every glass, vase, pot, and basket in the manor were turned over to 'stop nargles from hiding in them' (it was Luna).

A family meeting was called when someone moved all of the pots and pans in the house onto the roof (it was Harry). 

A family meeting was called when someone started drawing moustaches on all of the pictures and portraits on the walls (it was James). 

A family meeting was called when Fred and George pranked Neville by hiding his toad, Trevor. Each member of the household spent three hours looking for him – Lily later found him hidden in her underwear drawer. 

Another family meeting was called for going through people’s underwear drawers.

Family meetings were called quite frequently, what with the number of members these families had within them. They were called for fights, for updates, for announcements and for check ins. 

But there are two things that have never happened since these families began calling family meetings:

Never, not once, has James Potter ever called a family meeting. And never once has a family meeting been called whilst the children were away at Hogwarts.

Until today.

“Is it really necessary I’m here?” Regulus drawled as he leaned against the wall behind you in the headmaster’s office as he studied his nails. “I mean, I don’t even have a spawn to punish.”

“Sshh,” Remus spat loudly from his spot beside you standing at attention like a soldier. “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“Dad’s mad guys...” Sirius mumbled from your other side. 

“Is it bad I kinda feel sorry for Harry and Ron?” you asked your husband quietly.

He shook his head in response. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so mad.”

“Please, 10 galleons he doesn’t even give them a warning.” Regulus added from his place.

Sirius scoffed. “Oh, you’re on.” 

The murmurings were interrupted when the two twelve-year-olds were ushered into the office with Dumbledore and McGonagall trailing behind them. 

Before anyone could make sense of what was happening, Molly Weasley stood from her seat beside her husband and began screeching.

“RONALD WEASLEY. WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU THINKING?”

Ron’s face brightened to the likes of his hair as he tried to hide behind Harry. James stood beside Molly with his arms crossed. 

“Okay, I know now’s not the time.” You whispered to your husband, “But James’ arms look really good when he stands like that.” which was met with an exaggerated nod of his head.

“When he’s less mad, we’ll tell him.” 

“It was the platform! It was charmed or something and wouldn’t let us on and we missed the train!” Harry tried to argue.

“So, you opted to steal the Weasley’s car and drive it across the country!?” James asked incredulously. 

Harry instantly deflated.

“It was reckless, it was stupid, it was dangerous.” He continued as he started to pace the room, eyes never leaving the forms of the two second years. You gulped loudly on their behalf. 

“You could have been seen. You could have been hurt. You could have died.” He carried on. 

“Your father is now going to be facing an inquiry at work and it is all your fault!” Molly added.

Remus’ eyes furrowed as he leaned into your side. “Well, I mean his father did illegally charm a muggle vehicle...” But you elbowed him hard when the death stares of Molly and James turned towards you. 

“You have absolutely no idea the kind of trouble you could have caused. That you have caused.” Molly continued as she returned her attention to the boys.

“You two have always been mischievous, which I feel I have taken in stride because you are, after all, the product's of Marauders. But this? This exceeds mischievous. This borders insanity.” James said severely. You and Remus exchanged a wide-eyed gaze.

“Mr. Potter and I have discussed your punishments, young men.” Molly stated as she considered the two boys in front of her. But it was James who read them their sentence.

“You will spend the entire summer working at Uncle Moony’s bookstore.” 

This was met with a “what!?” cried out from Ron, Harry, and Remus.

“Why do I have to be the bad guy?!” Remus cried in distress.

“I don’t think you are, Moons.” Sirius said with a chuckle. He turned to regard his friend when he saw a look of understanding cross your features.

“I think it’s Regulus.” You clarified for the werewolf with a smirk.

Sure enough, the three of you turned to see a disturbingly wicked grin spreading across Regulus’ face.

“They’re just lucky Lily was at work and couldn’t be here for this.” Sirius muttered as you all turned your attentions back to the boys. “They’d be working for Regulus ‘til college.” 

[nectardaddy]

what's your favorite scary movie? | matsukawa issei

cw/notes: lots of sexual humor, language, they're watching scream idc (quotes in bold are taken directly from the og Scream), scream isn't that scary but let's just pretend it is, I was wheezing while writing this, thank you @mollyrolls (GO READ STOP THE CLOCK MOLLY IS COOKING), and "gothic frat boy mattsun" for the brainrot for this man, probably wildly ooc (borderline crack)

pairing: post timeskip!mattsun x fem!reader , written in second person (you, yours), previously established fwb/situationship

word count: 1.2k

It wasn't often you found yourself hunkered down in a mass of blankets on the couch, usually preferring to do so in the comfort of your own room. Cocooning yourself with your legs pulled up to your chest. It also wasn't common for you to watch a horror film - alone. A shot of adrenaline flowing through your veins at the thriller in front of you. Further setting the mood with lights shut off and a single candle lit on the coffee table. The television reflected off your face, deep reds, blues, and greens etching into features that were on edge. 

So deeply engrossed in the movie your brain shut out everything else, eyes transfixed on the screen as you pulled the blanket a bit closer to yourself. But the sharp twang of your phone ringing made you jerk, letting out a small yelp at the sound as it tore you away from the suspense the movie gave. "Fuck-"

Letting out a small breath, you dropped your shoulders in relief as your eyes slid to your phone. Screen lit up with the name "Issei <3" across it, you picked it up and took another small breath before accepting the call. Leaving the movie to still play in the background, you put the phone up to your ear.

"I'm in your walls." His voice shone through with a laugh before you even managed to say hello.

"Whatever happened to hello? How are you?" Questioning as your eyes flickered back the television screen, multitasking as you spoke to him. Exchanging pleasantries, talking about your day, and listening to him ramble on about work. Not realizing the sound of the movie was up high enough for him to hear, you heard him let out a cackle at the movie.

" Listen here you little bitch, you hang up on me again and I'll gut you like a fish, understand? "

"Damn- I wish you would gut me like a fish."

You rolled your eyes at his comment, a small smile pulling at your lips nonetheless. "Shut up, Issei." But you couldn't help but chuckle regardless, biting back a smirk even though you knew he couldn't see it. "That doesn't even make sense."

“I miss you.” An off kilter comment from him that made you pause, tearing your eyes away from the screen and looking down. A situationship at its finest, you and Matsukawa; talking and spending time with one another so much that others thought you were together - not putting a label on it from a fear of commitment. So his words made your heart jump to your throat, a sinking feeling settling in that was worse than the movie that played in the background.

“I miss you too.”

“ What do you want? - To see what your insides look like. ” 

You heard him stifle a laugh, “same.” Whatever ‘moment’ you had, if you really wanted to call it that, was completely dashed. Rolling your eyes at his crudeness that you had become all too accustomed to. It wasn't unusual for the man to make such remarks, to the point where you believed it was simply in his dna. It was in his nature to be a loveable, sarcastic moron.

“Don’t make me regret saying I miss you, dumbass.” Though you couldn’t help but laugh at the comment as well, but before he could respond he heard an audible crash sound from your television, followed by you taking in a sharp inhale of air. Mumbling a small ‘shit’ under your breath that you hoped he didn't hear - he most certainly did.

“You're scared aren't you?” Asking through a shit eating grin, one you could hear through the phone. You closed your eyes and groaned. “You want me to come over?”

“Watching this was not an in for you to come over.”

“It is now,” he chuckled. “So can I?”

A scream echoed off the walls and rang through the living room. You flinched at the sudden sound and gripped the blanket you had wrapped around yourself in temporary fear. The volume turned up all too loud, you didn’t hear the knock at the door of your apartment. But you most definitely heard the door swing open; whipping your head around and breath catching in your throat at the sound. Letting out a scream before covering your mouth in embarrassment once your eyes locked with familiar brown ones. 

"What's your favorite scary movie?” A grin pulling at his lips, a mischievous one filled with debauchery, before he howled in laughter; closing your door behind him. 

“I should have never let you come over, dickhead.” You felt your heart rate drop, being that it skyrocketed just seconds before, and you let out a sigh. 

“Aw, don’t say that. You love it when I come over.” His sly grin never left his lips as he sat next to you, plopping himself down on the couch and slinging his arm around you. You tried to fight the smile that desperately wanted to show itself, ultimately losing as you looked over to him and rolled your eyes. 

“Unfortunately, I do.” You heard him sigh exasperatedly, moving his other hand to his heart. “You’re the pain in my ass I don’t think I have the heart to get rid of.”

“Damn, you really know how to hurt a man’s feelings.”

“Shut up and watch the movie.”

The next hour was spent with your eyes glued to the screen, flinching and gasping every so often at cheap jump scares from the older slasher film. Matsukawa simply couldn’t help himself in reveling in this, holding you closer to him and giving your arm a squeeze after every jump, after every sharp inhale - to him, it really couldn’t get better than this. Joining you amidst your barrage of blankets sometime within him sitting down; his arm still over you and your head rested on his shoulder. Occasionally, his eyes would flicker down to you. Catching your own eyes, to which you quickly averted back to the screen, only for him to smile.  

“ There's always some stupid bullshit reason to kill your girlfriend. ”

“I would never kill you, by the way.”

His comment made you pause a moment, taken aback by the implications. Never knowing if he was truly serious, always toeing the line of frivolity with every word spoken, you simply brushed it off with a chuckle. “Oh wow, thanks, Issei, I was getting worried for a second.” Matching the energy he gave to you with a smile; to which he turned to you, looking over your features before humming. “Does that make me your girlfriend?” The question slipped from your lips before the thought registered in your mind. Internally kicking yourself for asking something so stupid, and outwardly looking down in mortification.

Another pause. One that lasted a bit too long, your heart sinking into your stomach from dread, thinking you said the wrong thing. Looking down at the fuzzy blanket you had draped around you and grasping it into a fist as unease consumed you. 

“Only if you promise not to become one of those girlfriends that leaves their boyfriend to die in horror movies.” 

You looked up at him once more, confusion written on your face that swiftly turned as you chuckled. A silly smile on his lips that was nothing but caring, a juxtaposition to his normal smirk. “Yeah, I guess I can do that.”

Honorable mentions that I couldn't fit in:

“ Number one: you can never have sex. ”

“Well I guess we're fucked.”

“ Number two: you can never drink or do drugs. ”

“Double fucked.”

banner by @/editsnocturne , divider by @/cold--carnage

[yeahyeahmoveit]

Mullet Wearing Asshole - Intro - Billy Hargrove fanfiction.

hi, my loves.

We are gathered today to mourn my sanity, as I begin my first fanfic! (that has seen the light of day.)

╔══════════════════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ════════════════╗

chapter 1!!

Prologue of sorts - Adjusting to teenage life after being a lab rat, groomed into being a mere governmental weapon, is difficult, to say the least. Especially since the world 006 and 011 had sworn to seal off, along with who they sent into it, and it started cracking into reality as we know it. If that isn't enough, another certain attention deterrent shows up, one big Mullet Wearing Asshole.

! TRIGGER WARNINGS ! - adult themes including but not limited to smut (warnings will be put before chapters including The Devil's Tango), detailed descriptions of alcohol and drug use, and detailed descriptions of physical and mental abuse from parent and government figures. tldr; don't read this if you don't like stranger things, bad haircuts, sex, and spelling mistakes.

Mood Boards -

006/June hopper. - (s1 and before, only for flashbacks or past scenes.) The character face claim is Katie Holmes!

(s2, since that's where this story will take off from.)

Billy Hargrove - (s2)

this story will NOT replace elevens very important role! I'm not trying to replace any characters or exchange dialogue with my own OC. i maaaaayyyyyy do it once or twice only when absolutely needed. (i dunno bout yall, but i HATE that so, so much. one of my. biggest fic peeves.) i want to be creative with this, not lazy.

if you have any questions or suggestions, feel free to ask either in my inbox or in comments! and with that, look out for the first chapter some time soon.

toodles, poodles!

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

miss minutes really wants to get her holo grammed, huh

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob ends up on thin ice with Molly after Bradley ends up on thin ice with her sister. But all he can think about is the perfect night he spent with her and how he'd be crushed if he didn't get a chance to do it all again. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, 18+

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Bob was trying his best to be in the moment at the Hard Deck, since he was the one who invited Molly's sister out for a drink. He wanted to say thank you for all the hard work she put in while Bradley was away. But he was so distracted. 

Molly had spent the entire day sending him selfies while she was at work, and some of them were definitely rated mature. Bob had almost broken his phone earlier trying to minimize a photo of Molly's pierced nipples when Coyote walked over to him. She had snapped the photo of herself in the bathroom at the hospital when she was on break along with the caption I miss you, Bobby <3

The little heart at the end reminded him that he had already said he loved her. He assumed she hadn't heard him, but it made him blush just the same. And now he was at the bar with her sister and Bradley, which should have been fun, but he just wanted to get home and see Molly. 

Bob watched Nat and Jake both relentlessly flirt with Team Mom, but there was no way she had eyes for anyone except Bradley. And then he wondered what it would be like if he brought Molly here. He wanted to, because he already wanted to be with her all the time. But...Bob looked around at all the guys, and that feeling of self doubt was back. Jake was handsome and charming, and probably the kind of guy Molly was used to being with. 

When Nat offered to buy a drink for Team Mom, Bob cut her off, glad for the distraction. "No, it's on me! It's the least I can do since you gave up so much of your time this week to fill in for Bradley. What do you like?" And while he was up at the bar, waiting patiently for Penny to fill his order, Molly's sister ran out of the bar, followed closely by Bradley. 

"What happened?" Bob asked, holding two beers while Jake rubbed his forehead with his fingers. He mumbled a response and walked away, but when Bradley finally came back inside, he looked like he was ready to kill Jake. 

And then the barrage of text messages from Molly came through. Bob's eyes went wide as he read them.

Are you aware that your buddy Bradley is actually a fucking dickhead? I can't BELIEVE what he did to my sister! 

Seriously, Bob. Why didn't you warn my sister about him?! What the fuck! He called Everett baggage!

Please tell me you're not like him!

You know what? Maybe I don't want to find out. 

Bob called her immediately, but she didn't answer. When he got her voicemail, he said, "Mo, please call me back so we can talk, okay? I don't think Bradley meant any of what he said. He's not a bad guy. And I... don't think I could ever do anything to hurt you." He contemplated telling her he loved her again, but he ended the call before he could. 

He was already home for the night when he got one last text from her.

I'm not coming over. 

Bob collapsed in his bed, raking his fingers through his hair, wondering if this, of all things, was what would cost him his chance with her.

--------------------------

Molly was having a wonderful evening with Everett. They painted huge masterpieces on poster boards and left all the messy brushes in the kitchen sink. Molly secretly loved leaving an innocuous mess for her sister to clean up in her otherwise spotless house. It kept her on her toes. 

"Movie time? With ice cream?" she asked Everett, checking the time. Of course she'd let him stay up late. That's just what aunts did. 

"There's ice cream?!" he shouted, sprinting back into the kitchen.

"Of course there's ice cream," she replied, kneeling in front of the freezer. "I know all of your mom's secrets. She thinks she's so sneaky, but you can't get anything past me." After removing all the healthy, pre portioned frozen dinners, Molly hit the jackpot. There was a gallon of fudge ripple and a gallon of vanilla raspberry. "See?" she asked Everett, holding them both up.

"Fudge ripple! Fudge ripple! Fudge ripple!" he chanted, and soon they were watching a PG-13 movie with two spoons stuck in the ice cream carton. 

"Want some more?" she asked, passing the carton to him.

He took a bite and said, "I don't think my mom wanted me to watch this movie."

Molly sighed and shook her head. "I'll cover your eyes for the scary parts, okay?"

"Okay!" he agreed.

Molly took a few more bites before she asked him, "You like Coach Bob, right?"

"Oh yeah, like a whole lot," he replied. "Almost as much as I like Coach Bradley."

"That's a lot," Molly muttered. "I like him, too." She was smiling as Everett looked at her. 

"You should probably marry him," he said seriously. "I heard my mom say that Coach Bob is smart and nice and that she never thought you could do so well."

Molly scoffed and rolled her eyes. "That sounds exactly like something your mom would say, and that's exactly why we are eating her overpriced ice cream without her. Now close your eyes for the scary part."

About twenty minutes later, Everett was sound asleep on her lap while she finished the ice cream. Then she carried him up to bed, starting to get a little nervous that her sister would be back soon. She tucked him in, turned on his nightlight, and then hightailed it back to the kitchen to hide the evidence of the empty ice cream carton. 

But when she got home, Molly could tell something was wrong and went right into protective jungle cat mode. "What happened?" she asked softly as soon as she saw her sister's tear streaked cheeks and quivering lips.

After a few minutes of being held in Molly's arms, she was able to whisper, "Bradley told all of his friends that he'd never date me, because I have baggage."

"That fucking prick. Does Bob know about this?"

"Probably," she said softly against Molly's shoulder. "He must."

"I'll call him right now," Molly said vehemently. 

"No, please don't. You had an immaculate first solo date with him last night which ended in a hot makeout session. I don't want the three ring circus that is my life to start messing up yours."

It had been more than a makeout session, but Molly wasn't going to correct her. She was so into Bob after being intimate with him, that she was devastated now. Because Molly knew she would ditch him in an instant, even if it would hurt, in order to support her family. 

Molly kissed her sister's cheek and promised, "Your life is not a three ring circus. And Everett is not baggage. And Bradley isn't worth your time if that's what he thinks. Now let me help you get changed for bed."

-----------------------

Bob barely slept, and he was wide awake before his alarm went off on Saturday morning for the tee ball game. He hadn't heard another word from Molly. Even if she wanted to yell over the phone, he would have loved to hear her voice. 

When he arrived at the ballfield, Bradley was already there. "You look like shit," Bob told him, and he could hear the disappointment in his own voice. 

Bradley closed his eyes briefly. "I feel worse. Promise."

"Did you talk to her?" Bob asked. Bradley didn't hang around at the bar last night after things blew up, so Bob really wasn't sure exactly how bad it was.

"She doesn't want to talk to me. I'm such an idiot."

Bob just kind of shrugged as he set things up for their game against the Tiny Blue Jays. "Molly is angry, too," Bob informed him. "She's barely texted me back since yesterday."

Now Bradley looked sincerely upset on Bob's behalf. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll figure it out," Bob mumbled. "And you need to apologize to Team Mom until she forgives you. Did you tell her that you said all of that stuff a long time ago? You barely even knew her then."

"Yeah, but I still said it," Bradley replied, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. "And between the slap to my face and the valid points she was yelling at me, I didn't get a chance to try to explain myself. But she's not going to want to hear it anyway."

Then Bob felt his heart lurch as he looked up toward the parking lot and saw Molly and Everett headed his way. "I'll be right back," he mumbled and headed for her immediately. 

Everett ran past him, calling out, "Hi, Coach Bob!" before continuing on to Bradley. But Bob had his sights set on Molly and her beautiful face filled with indignant anger.

"Molly," he gasped, wanting to reach for her as she came stomping to a halt in front of him. She was glorious. God, he was in love with her.

"Tell me you knew," she demanded. "Tell me you knew Bradley was trying to play my sister." She was practically vibrating with concealed rage now. "Tell me you fucking knew he doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as them."

Bob swallowed hard, and her eyes flashed. "Molly, he loves them. I don't think he would do or say anything to intentionally hurt either of them." 

"He has a sick way of showing it," she spat. "He called Everett baggage."

Bob held his forehead in his hands. "I think Bradley just needs to talk to her. He's so crazy about them, he's really beating himself up."

Bob watched Molly glance past him to glare at Bradley while he helped Everett get ready for the game. "He can rot," she said, but her voice was softer now. "And so can you if you agree with what he said." 

"I don't," he promised. "Please, Molly. I...I missed you yesterday as soon as I dropped you off at your car. I missed you all night. I missed texting with you until one of us fell asleep."

She looked up at him, eyes searching his face. She muttered, "I missed you, too," and then she was heading toward the bleachers. 

----------------------------

Molly was finding it hard to keep giving Bob the cold shoulder after another day. She was spending a lot of her time with her sister and nephew, sleeping over there and taking Everett out to keep him entertained.

She didn't feel any better after she blew up at Bradley. In fact Molly felt worse, because she sensed that Bradley really was sincere in the way he just wanted to apologize. And he clearly doted on Everett. Maybe he really did just want a chance to apologize, but Molly knew her sister wasn't ready to listen yet.

Her phone went off, and she reached for it while she was making coffee at her place late on Sunday morning. 

Coach Cute Glasses: I miss you, Molly. 

She groaned; the gas station flowers were in the vase right next to her, and she was trying not to look at them. Casey never did anything like give Molly flowers. He'd given her some hickeys and exactly two orgasms. But he also hadn't been friends with anyone who hurt her sister. 

She moaned helplessly. Her body was betraying her. She wanted to spend another night curled up with Bob, all warm and protected. She wanted to feel his even breathing and listen to his soft voice as she fell asleep. "Damn it," she whined, typing out a message to him.

Miss you, too. Any chance I'm still invited to your place? 

Molly was weak for Bob. She knew that already. Just one night with him, and she was constantly daydreaming about him at work. His rough hands. And how sweet he was. And how he wanted to be exclusive with her already. And his big cock. 

Coach Cute Glasses: You are always invited. Please, Molly, anytime. Do you want to spend the night with me? 

Molly snorted as she read the text, but another one was already coming through.  

Coach Cute Glasses: I didn't mean that the way it probably sounded! I'd just love to see you. I would be so happy if you wanted to come by, and even happier if you wanted to stay with me all night. I liked how it felt to wake up in bed with you. 

Molly tucked her phone into the pocket of her scrubs. He could wait it out for a bit. That sort of thing was good for a man. Especially one who was that eager to see you. But by the time she parked at the hospital, she texted him back. 

---------------------------------

Bob was in such a panic. Molly was coming over. And he wasn't sure if she was upset with him or just Bradley. He wasn't sure if she was planning on staying over. 

"I'm sorry," Bradley told him for the hundredth time when he called him. "I'm sorry if I blew it for you."

"I'm going to talk to Molly in a few hours," Bob said, rushing through the parking lot to his truck. He was running around, grocery shopping, trying to distract himself. 

"Can you tell her I miss her sister and Ev?" Bradley asked.

"I'll try," Bob promised as he got into his truck and ended the call.

Molly worked until 8 o'clock. He had a few hours to kill before he'd see her, so he wasn't quite sure why he was rushing. Then he stopped for more gas station flowers and cleaned his already spotless condo. He tried to eat dinner, but he couldn't stomach anything except toast. And when he finally heard her ringing the intercom button, he ran to answer it.

"It's Molly," she said softly, and he quickly let her into the building. He stood with his front door open, and a minute later, there she was. She had changed after work, and she looked stunning. No make-up at all and just some jeans and a crop top, but Bob felt suddenly short of breath. He wanted to run his hand along the flower tattoos on her side, and kiss her there too. 

"Molly," he whispered, fighting the urge to blurt out another I love you. He needed to keep it together right now. "Come in."

She walked past him and looked slowly around his living room and dining room while he closed and locked his door. He didn't have a lot of stuff, and suddenly he felt a little ridiculous that his place was so sparse. 

"Very clean," she muttered, her voice and clothing filling the space with so much color and warmth as she examined the gas station flowers. "I wouldn't know how to keep up with it," she said, turning and smiling softly at him. 

"I missed you," he blurted out, and her smile grew.

"Tell me more," she demanded, turning to fully face him. 

Bob swallowed and took a few seconds to gather his thoughts. He was afraid he was going to stutter or say something stupid, but Molly just smiled at him, her all-knowing eyes gentle on his face as she waited.

"I...can't get you out of my mind. I called the runway attendant Molly by accident earlier, because I was thinking about you. Phoenix, my pilot, will never let me live it down."

Molly's laughter had him taking a step closer. "Tell me more," she said, also taking a step toward him. 

"I can't stand the thought of you being upset with me," he said sincerely. He ducked his head and added, "Thursday evening was one of the best nights of my life. Because I spent it with you." He paused, finally daring to meet her eyes.

"Oh, keep going," she said with a nod. "You're doing great."

"I want you to believe I'd never be friends with Bradley if I didn't think he was a good person. And I think he just got a little mixed up. Your sister and nephew really threw him for a loop, you know? But he really loves them."

Molly hummed and shrugged. "I guess I could relay that message to my sister. But I also have a message from me to you."

Bob took a deep breath. "What is it?"

"I missed you, too. I can't stop thinking about you either. And Thursday night and Friday morning, you were so sweet to me, I just want more." Then she kissed his chin and took his hands in hers. "I want you to touch me."

Bob pulled her close as she placed his hands at her waist. He would never get used to being around her, not as easily as she seemed to already know how he operated. She looked up at him, gaze open and earnest. Soft fingers gliding up his arms, tucking into the short sleeves of his tee shirt and gently squeezing his biceps. She placed three soft kisses to the corner of his lips, and he was done. He had to fight the invading thoughts of her nipple piercings and the way her body feels and looks when she's whining for him in her bed beneath him.

"Molly," he begged, but he wasn't sure what he was begging for. 

"Bobby?" she asked softly, pushing one hand through his hair and keeping his gaze focused on her. "I think I need you to fuck me."

"Oh," he groaned, turning her and pushing her back against the wall. He caged her in, and she looked absolutely delighted. 

"If you want to." Her voice was soft and sweet, and her gaze was anything but.

"Honey," Bob managed between ragged breaths as she let her hands come to rest on his abs. She was messing with him. Messing him up completely. She knew exactly what she was doing, but meanwhile, Bob was new to this game. But he was a quick study. A fast learner. 

So when Molly licked her lips and pouted, saying, "You don't want me Bobby? I thought you wanted to be the only one," he was ready for her. 

He wedged one thigh up between her legs, and she gasped. Then his mouth was on hers, rough and demanding. She was grabbing for his shoulders, rubbing herself all over him. He could feel her teeth, digging into his bottom lip, not hard, but definitely not soft. When she released him, she licked his lips until her tongue was in his mouth. 

Bob was rock hard, and try as he may to keep control in this moment, he couldn't. Because Molly was stroking him through his pants and tasting his mouth. Her nose was rubbing along his as she whispered, "Do you want me, Bobby?"

He reached down, wrapping both of his hands around the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up into his arms. Then her lips were on his neck and her arms were wrapped around him as he took her to his bedroom. She was on her back on his bed, kicking her shoes off while her little top rode up so Bob could see the soft undersides of her breasts. There was too much to admire here, and he froze up. 

When Molly's hands found the zipper of her jeans, she whispered. "I want you to say it, Bobby. I want you to tell me everything you plan to do to me." And then her hand was slipping inside her underwear, and she was stroking herself as he watched. 

"Mo," his voice was hoarse. He pushed her knees apart and settled between her legs, bending to kiss her wrist before pulling her hand free of her jeans. "I want to put my mouth on you."

The smile that curled along her lips as she started to shimmy out of her jeans and underwear should have made him a little nervous, but he was beyond help. Her bare pussy was right there, and she smelled so good. As soon as her jeans hit his floor, Bob's face was buried in her. 

"Alright, Lieutenant Floyd," she moaned softly. "Okay." And to Bob's delight and dismay, Molly's hands were on her own breasts, pushing her shirt up and playing with her piercings. She tasted so good as he ran his tongue through her wetness and sucked on her clit. But soon he was rutting into the bed, the sight of her fingers on those little barbells spurring him on. 

When Bob slipped his tongue inside her, Molly's back arched off the bed as she started whining for him. "Bobby, I want your big cock." He grunted in response, willing to give her anything in this moment, and shocked by how much he liked her dirty talk. 

He worked the zipper over his painfully hard erection and scrambled to get himself free. And then he was rocking into her at the same time he got his mouth on her nipples. 

"Yes," she hissed softly, head tipped back with a soft giggle on her lips. He was fucking her, and it felt just as perfect as it had a few days previously. Like her whole body was made for him. Like every response from her perfect lips was just what he needed to hear. "So fucking big."

He pushed those little, silver barbells around with his teeth and tongue, tugging a little bit until Molly was gasping his name. When he sucked harder on her nipples, she was screaming for him. And when she came on his cock, holding his face against her breasts and shaking beneath him, Bob could hardly believe he'd been able to make her orgasm again. 

"Molly," he gasped. "I love the way you shake."

"Oh my god," she moaned as he fucked her through her little tremors. But then she was sitting up, kissing his face, and Bob slipped out of her perfect warmth as she moved to kneel on his floor.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as she guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. She pulled her shirt over her head, and ran her hands up over his thighs. Bob's pants were pulled down to his knees, and Molly pushed them to his ankles before wrapping her pretty lips around his cock. She settled in between his legs, and Bob could only stare at her and try to memorize the obscene sounds they made together. 

Molly was good at this. She was good at everything. Bob tried to keep up, but her mouth felt too perfect. And then she popped up onto her knees and started running the tip of his cock along those pretty piercings. "Molly!"

"You like that?" she asked coyly, but Bob was hypnotized by the look and feel of the barbells on his erection. With a soft groan, Molly squeezed her perfect breasts together, sandwiching Bob between them. He thrust himself up closer to her mouth, and sure enough, she parted her pretty lips and licked him. Bob continued to do this until he was grunting and Molly's saliva was dripping down her chest, making the sensations even more spectacular for him. 

Slick saliva, wet breasts and Molly's mouth. "Oh!" he grunted, stroking her cheek with his knuckles as she sucked on him. But when she took his tightening balls in her soft hand and gave him a little squeeze, Bob came hard, without any warning. He watched in alarm as his cum spurted all over her lips and cheeks while she giggled. Molly jerked him off until he was gasping for air and wishing he had enough in him to coat her whole body, because it looked that pretty.

She licked her lips and opened her eyes, and Bob watched as his cum dripped down from her eyelashes, along her cheek and landed on her nipple piercing. Molly took his hand in hers and ran his fingers through the mess before guiding his hand up to her lips. She tasted him there and ran her tongue between his long fingers and across his palm. 

"You made the mess," she whispered before sucking on his thumb for a beat. "Now you have to help me clean up."

"Gladly," he promised, nearly rocketing off the bed as she set his hand on her breast. Bob used his wet thumb to collect his cum from her piercing and then he let her take his hand between her lips again. But then he was on the floor with her, pushing her gently onto her back as she laughed. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, but the words died on her lips when Bob licked his own cum off of her chest before kissing her and letting her taste it. He held both of her wrists in his hands above her head, and he was treated to the sights and sounds of Molly. She was rubbing her pussy along his soft length as she licked his cum from his mouth, and Bob just enjoyed making out with her on the floor. Everything tasted like him and smelled like Molly, and he listened to her soft laughter. 

His hands and shirt were a mess of cum, and Molly's pretty face absolutely lit up for him when he whispered, "I like the way I taste on your skin."

"Bobby. You fucking deviant," she moaned, taking his face between her slightly sticky palms and leaning up to kiss his lips. She wrapped one leg around his waist to keep his body against hers, and Bob let his cheek come to rest on her chest. He'd never been called anything close to that before, but he could tell he'd lose himself in the moment with Molly over and over again like this if she'd keep letting him. 

And then he blurted out, "You're not mad at me then?" while she combed her fingers through his hair. 

She hummed in contemplation. "No, I'm not mad at you, Coach Bob. I'm pissed off at Bradley, and I'm trying to protect my family. But I'm not mad at you."

Bob sighed in relief and ran his fingers along her pretty tattoo. He had found it actually painful the way she'd been avoiding talking to him, but he could see where she was coming from. 

"That makes me happy. And I can understand you wanting to protect them. They are where your loyalty lies."

"Don't fuck with my family," she whispered softly as she turned her head, and Bob glanced up at her as she swiped at her eyes. "I hardly have any left."

Bob could sense that she wanted him to change the subject, so he kissed her soft skin and said, "I like your tattoos."

She laughed sardonically and said, "Thanks."

"Did you get the carnation tattoos because it's your favorite flower?" he asked, running his index finger along the colorful ink.

"No," she told him. She was quiet for a moment, and Bob started sweating before she asked, "Did you know that there are different flowers that coordinate with your birth month?" 

Bob had heard of this before. "Sure," he told her, wondering where she was going with this. 

Her voice sounded a little rough, but her fingers were still soft in his hair as she said, "My parents were both born in January. Carnations were their birth flowers. That's why I have the tattoo. And kind of why I love the gas station flowers."

"Oh," Bob said, about to add that she didn't need to talk about it if she didn't want to. But then she rolled a little closer to him as he sat up, and she pointed to the other three flowers mixed in.

"The morning glory is for my sister's birthday. The chrysanthemum is mine. And the pretty red rose is for Everett's birthday in June. I got that one the day after he was born. It's actually my favorite one."

"It's beautiful," Bob told her, running his thumb along the chrysanthemum and meeting her eyes. 

"Listen," she told him, kissing the tip of his nose. "I'm protective of my sister. She took care of me when our parents both died. I moved in with her while she finished college. She shared her bed with me and made sure I ate. She sold my parent's house and gave me most of the money to pay for nursing school and a new, reliable car. And the fact that I can occasionally help her out a little bit now is really important to me. So if you think I need to castrate Bradley, you should probably just tell me now, okay?"

Bob laughed in spite of himself. "Maybe a kick to the nuts, but castration is probably not necessary, Honey. He's beating himself up enough, I can tell you that much. And I honestly think Bradley would jump in front of a moving car for Everett." 

"See, now that's what I like to hear," she told him, sitting up and draping her arms around him. Her skin was a little sticky from his cum, and Bob let her push him back until he was laying on the floor underneath her this time. She settled her chin in his chest and looked up at him. "Now tell me when your birthday is, Lieutenant Cute Glasses. I want to know how your flower would look in my tattoo bouquet."

Bob could feel his cheeks warming up. She wanted to know what a tattoo in his honor would look like on her perfect skin. And now she was just lounging right there on him, naked as the day she was born and just completely flawless. And she was waiting, just like she always did. Waiting until he was ready to say what he was thinking, but never rushing him.

He laughed softly and shook his head. "I have the most embarrassing birthday," he told her, and she cocked her head to the side. 

"Oh," she sighed. "April twentieth?" 

"No," he told her. "Worse. Leap day. February 29th."

"Oh! No, that's such a good one, Bob!" she insisted. "And your flower would be a violet. So pretty!"

But he just kept shaking his head. "Mo, you don't understand, Honey."

"Then explain it to me," she whispered, kissing his chest and stroking his skin. 

"My name is Bob. B O B. Bob. I got the nickname Baby On Board during flight training a decade ago, because I was technically five years old...."

She blinked at him a few times before she burst into laughter. Bob waited while Molly rolled around on the floor, gripping her sides and gasping for air. "And technically how old are you now?" she managed to ask through her laughter.

Bob waited until she calmed down a bit more. "Eight."

"Eight!" she screeched. "Don't say that to me! We've had sex!" Her laughter had Bob chuckling too now. "How old would you be if you had a birthday every year?" she asked, eyes wide as she giggled.

"Thirty two."

"Thirty two! Perfect," she sighed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "I'm not going to get arrested then."

Bob rolled his eyes and whispered, "I think a new flower would look pretty good in your bouquet."

And now Bob was thinking about a violet tattoo on her skin next to the other pretty flowers as Molly curled up on his bedroom floor with her arm wrapped around him. 

---------------------------------

Bob without Molly....it just doesn't make sense. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 5

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[atypicalamortentia]

Part 2 of disappear??? Maybe reader and percy getting walked in on or sum

Disappear Part Two || Percy Weasley

Synopsis - Your secret relationship with Percy is about to become common knowledge.

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - Characters are aged 18+!

Word Count - 1.5k.

{Caffeinate Me}

Part One.

It had been a few weeks since your last rendezvous with Percy. Christmas and New Year had come and gone, so you were finally ready to start getting life back to ‘normal’ and of course that meant sneaking around with your lover once again. The Weasley’s were on a day-trip, to where you weren’t sure, but Percy didn’t go with them. He claimed he was sick just so you could swing round and pay him a visit undisturbed. So that’s what you did. You made your way to the Weasley home and let yourself in to find Percy straightening up the place. “There you are,” you smiled widely. You opened your arms and walked over to Percy, enveloping him in a tight embrace. “What are you doing?”

“Straightening up for mum so she doesn’t have to do it when she gets home,” Percy replied as he pulled away from you and placed some neatly folded blankets on the sofa. You found yourself still smiling and nodded at him in response. 

“How long is it going to take?” You asked, trying not to sound too desperate for him straight away.

“Well, I just need to put these blankets in mum and dads room and then I’m all yours,” he winked. You felt a familiar ache settle between your legs at the sound of his smooth voice and a shiver ran up your spine. He walked past you and up the stairs to Molly and Arthur’s room with you following close behind. He set the blankets gently on the bed before turning to you with a wide grin. Percy then grabbed your hand and walked, quickly, to his bedroom. Neither of you bothered to close the door, too preoccupied with taking the other’s clothes off until they were nothing but a scrambled pile on the floor as you both lay on his bed completely naked. “Gods I’ve missed you,” Percy mumbled as he pressed his lips against yours feverishly. You could only respond with a grunt as he wouldn’t let you pull away, his tongue invading your mouth and tasting you. You could tell from his sheer eagerness that he had missed you. 

Percy trailed a hand down your exposed body until he reached between your legs, slicking his index finger up your folds and gathering your wetness on his fingertips. Then he brought those same fingers to his lips, tasting the sweetness of your juices on his tongue. A moan escaped him and you saw his hardened cock twitch between his legs as his tongue lapped around his digits. “Percy,” you whined, thrusting your hips against his in a futile attempt to convince him to fuck you already. “Please.”

Percy shook his head and removed his fingers from his lips before placing them back at your entrance. “It’s been a few weeks,” came his response. “We need to get you good and ready before we make love.” 

You let out a shaky sigh and nod as he pushes a single finger into you. Moaning, you grasp at the sheets below you as Percy begins to slowly move his finger in and out of you. His pace was agonisingly slow but you revelled in the feeling. Shortly after a few thrusts, he inserted a second finger and kissed down your neck. “Oh Gods,” you moaned out, throwing your head back. 

“You’re so tight,” Percy mumbled as he continued to move his fingers in and out of your sopping cunt slightly faster now. He scissored his fingers just right to stretch you in the way he needed to as he bit down at the soft flesh covering your neck. “That’s right baby, let go,” he whispered, thumb grazing your clit. You gasped upon the contact and Percy began to rub your clit slowly, pushing you to your first orgasm. Your entire body tensed up as your climax washed over you, your hands gripping the sheets tighter as moan after moan left your lips. It felt good to not be so quiet and just let loose the sounds you needed to make. When your orgasm finished, Percy retracted his fingers and pressed them against your lower lip. “Suck,” he commanded. 

You nodded and did as he said, tongue sticking out and darting around his fingers licking away your spend. Percy groaned at the sight, an almost animalistic growl erupting from his throat. “Will you fuck me now?” You said, your voice practically begging. 

Percy smiled sweetly at you and nodded, “since you were a good girl, I’ll do anything you ask.” 

He positioned himself on top of you, pushing you down completely onto the bed. Your hands had already let go of the sheets below and wrapped themselves around Percy’s neck, pulling him as physically close to you as possible. The tip of his cock penetrated your entrance, and even with two fingers to stretch you it was still a slight struggle to fit him all the way in immediately. Percy pushed into you slowly, kissing your cheek and whispering words of praises into your ear. “Oh,” you gasped, as he fully bottomed out inside of you. He found himself grinning from ear to ear as he allowed you to adjust fully to his length before he began to move. His pace started off slow, but built up within a matter of seconds, his face holding all the concentration he had to not blow his load into you right away. Your nails dug into his back causing Percy to gasp at the pained sensation, but continued his pace against you. He was relentless in giving you pleasure. The headboard began to bang against the wall as a result of his forceful thrusts, only adding to your already dripping arousal. “Percy! You’ll break the bed,” you squealed, a slight giggle leaving your lips. 

“Don’t care,” he mumbled against your neck, his lips making their way to yours to kiss you passionately. He swallowed your moans eagerly. 

You were both so in the moment that you hadn’t heard the Weasley’s enter the home or the twins come running up the stairs. “Holy shit!” Came the twins' voices simultaneously. Percy stopped his movements and pulled out of you almost immediately, grabbing the nearest piece of fabric he could find to cover your body away from his brother's view. 

“What is it?” Came Ron’s voice from down the stairs. 

“You gotta come and see this!” Fred shouted back. 

Both yours and Percy’s eyes were wide, like deers caught in headlights as you both shook your heads. But it was too late. Ron was already running up the stairs, peering his head around Percy’s room to see you and his brother engaged in the most intimate of positions. Ron went pale, paler than he already was as his mouth hung open wide at the sight. “Oh my God,” Ron whispered.

“Ron-” you started.

“Nope. Nope. I’m out,” he said, throwing his hands up defensively as he turned to walk away. 

The twins stood there still, shit eating grins on their faces. “So…” George sang. “How long has this been going on?” 

You couldn’t answer. You found yourself stuttering nonsense as you tried to wrap your head around the fact that the twins had just walked in on you and Percy mid-fuck. “A while,” came Percy’s reply.

“So when you were putting the Christmas decorations up with Ron and you disappeared, you were-“

“Yes.”

“And you were-“

“Yes.”

“That makes so much sense,” Fred nodded.

“I knew it,” George said smugly.

Fred shoved him in the chest and scoffed. “No you did not.”

“Well I knew Percy was seeing someone!” George exclaimed. 

“How on earth did you know that?” Percy asked furrowing his eyebrows.

George and Fred shrugged together. “You weren’t as grumpy anymore. Thought you had to be getting it from somewhere.” 

Percy blushed a deep shade of red before grabbing a pillow and throwing it at his brothers, hitting them square in the face. “Alright alright we’ll leave!” Fred shouted, throwing the pillow back. “Next time, close the damn door.” 

Fred and George left the room, closing the door behind them. Percy looked at you apologetically, laying down next to you on the bed and staring at the ceiling. “Sorry,” he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You were still speechless, but managed to stutter out a quick, “why?”

“For my brothers.”

“I’ve known Fred and George long enough. Besides, we should have closed the door behind us,” you said with a shrug, finally recovering from the utter embarrassment you were feeling. 

“Mhm,” Percy hummed. His hand began to stroke circular patterns on your forearm in a soothing manner. He held you close to his body and smiled as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Next time, we’ll close the door.”

“At least we don’t have to sneak around anymore,” you mumbled, burying your head into his chest. “We can be together openly now. See each other more.”

“I’d love that,” Percy said, smiling widely. 

You smiled back at him and kissed him softly before pulling away and looking back at the door. “The door is closed now… how about we finish where we left off?” You said, a cheeky grin on your face. Percy raised an eyebrow before climbing back on top of you. That night was certainly a night to remember, for the both of you. Not to mention, the Weasley’s didn’t get any sleep.

[billybob598]

Look What I've Got (Sophia Smith x Reader)

Heyyyyy. I did not want to put this gif in because it makes me sad, but I thought it made sense with the story. Also, this is a F1 reader, there was a little vote between f1 reader or swewnt reader and f1 won 8-6 so sorry to anyone wanting the swewnt reader but this is a democracy. I might do a similar one later with a swewnt reader for those people. Anyways, it's a shit title and a shit ending so have fun reading! Remember any feedback good or bad is welcomed! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.8k (My longest fic ever wooooo!!!)

You were a proud girlfriend right now. Here you were watching your girlfriend of almost two years, Sophia Smith,  playing in her first-ever World Cup. While you missed the group stage games due to the F1 Grand Prix in Hungary and Belgium, you were finally able to come to Australia. Your girlfriend didn’t know that you were here yet nor that you were attending the USA’s Round of 16 match against Sweden. Throughout the warm-ups, Sophia seems laser-focused, so much so that she doesn’t see you sitting in the stands wearing her jersey. Of course, it is instead her best friend Naomi Girma who spots you first. When she points you out you don’t think you’ve ever seen your girlfriend's head turn so fast. Her eyes land on you and she sprints towards you with a blinding smile.

“Oh, my God! Baby, I’ve missed you so much!” Sophia squeals out as she hugs you tightly. 

You chuckle, “I’ve missed you too, love.” When you pull away from the hug, Sophia immediately connects your lips. You reach back and slip your arms around her neck, trying to deepen the kiss. Gagging sounds come from beside you. Sophia groans and tries to chase your lips when you take your lips off of hers, suddenly aware of all the cameras, family members, and teammates surrounding you. You give her a weak smile and slightly push her back to the field. 

“Nooo, I wanna stay with you,” she pouts. You find her pouting adorable, but as much as you want her to stay with you, you know that she has to go continue to warm up. 

“Hi Y/N! I’m your favourite player right?” Naomi yells from across the field.

You wink at her with a cheeky smile, “Oh, of course. Girma on top baby.” Sophia gives her best friend a harsh glare before leaning in to give you one last hug.

“I’m your favourite though, right baby?” She asks quietly. You give her a subtle kiss on her ear while mumbling an “Always” to her. 

As the game gets underway, you watch nervously at every movement the US makes. Each time Musovic makes a fantastic save you can’t help the little groan of frustration that leaves your mouth. You can tell Sophia is starting to get frustrated with herself, whenever she feels she misses an opportunity she puts her head in her hands. The skin around your nails has been chewn. When extra time ends still in a 0-0 draw, your nerves increase tenfold. As Andi steps up to take the first penalty kick, Mollie, Sophia’s mom, reaches down and grabs your hand, squeezing tightly. When Sophia steps up to take a potentially game-winning penalty, you and her mom hold your breath. You can only watch in despair as her kick goes over the bar, her hands going straight to her head as the reality that she missed sinks in.

When the VAR call comes through and Lina Hurtig’s penalty is called good, your entire body deflates. The entirety of the US team breaks down, including your girlfriend. All you want to do is hold her and comfort her when you see her crying. It’s not her fault, you know that, but she’s already got it in her head that she’s to blame for everything. After a couple of minutes of tears and hugs among the team, the players start to make their way to their families and friends. You let Sophia sob into her parents' shoulders for a while. Finally, she pulls away and looks at you. You try to give her a smile and reach for her. She looks away and slowly starts to back away from you. The confusion you feel is represented on your face. 

“I’m sorry Y/N I just need some space right now,” she softly speaks. You nod, albeit confused but trying your best to be understanding.  After a long time in the locker room and taking their showers, the players start to emerge. Sophia shows up, her eyes bloodshot and puffy. She heads straight for her family once again. You hang back unsure of what she wants you to do. Her family leaves the two of you alone when her eyes meet yours. Opening your mouth to say something, you are caught off guard when she speaks first.

“Just don’t, okay?” Once again confusion writes itself all over you.

“Don’t what?” You ask.

“Don’t say that I did such a good job, that it was just unlucky I missed and that I’m still young, or some shit like that,” she says, a bit of anger seeping into her voice. You nod slowly, carefully choosing your next words.

“Okay, I won’t say that. I do think you did a good job, though. But, if you don’t think you did then whatever. All I know is that you made me crazy proud,” you state, trying to cheer her up. You don’t know what happened, but it seemed that sentence had set off Sophia. 

“Well I don’t care if you're proud of me, that doesn’t change the fact that we lost and it was all my fault! If you think that it wasn’t my fault, you’re astronomically wrong,” her voice rising with each word said, “I don’t care if you're proud of me. I don’t even know why you’re here, I don’t want you to be.” Her words sting. You take a step back, trying not to show just how hurt you are. 

“Do you really mean that?” You ask quietly.

“Yes. Yes, I do,” Sophia says harshly. Of course, she didn’t mean it. She has no idea why she’s saying these things right now, her heart cracking at how dejected you look. 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I think I’m gonna head back to my hotel I guess,” you whisper, looking down at the ground to ensure that she doesn’t see the tears pooling in your eyes. Quickly, you turn around and make your way to the parking lot. Your eyes stinging and your vision blurring, but you’ll be damned if Sophia gets to see you cry. The second you disappear out of her sight, Sophia feels terrible. Why on Earth would she say that? “I don’t care if you're proud of me,” who the fuck even says that? You flew halfway across the world to spend some time with her during your summer break which was only a few weeks, and this is how she treated you? For the entire bus ride back to the hotel, everyone is silent. Some people are crying, but Sophia is kicking herself over how she behaved towards you. She sends you a couple of texts, which she can see you read but don’t respond to. Then, when the team gets back to the hotel, she tries to call you a few times. Each attempt just gets your voicemail. Naomi, who was aware of the situation, just told her friend to rest and try again tomorrow. Sophia relents and comes to the conclusion that you won’t respond tonight and that she just needs to let you sleep and calm down a bit. 

The next day, as soon as she wakes up Sophia tries to get a hold of you. She calls you again and again. While eating breakfast she’s on her phone, praying that you’ll reply to one of the many texts she’s sent you. Her friends are slightly concerned at how dejected the forward looks after each passing minute with no word from you. Finally, Ashley Sanchez suggests that Sophia goes to your hotel to try and iron things out. Their flight wasn’t until the next day so she had the time. After thinking about the idea for a bit, Sophia decides to just go for it. She does know where you are staying and figures it’s only a fifteen-minute walk over. Sophia plays with her rings the entire time, her nerves only increasing as she gets closer to the hotel. Finding your room easily, she stands outside of it for a few minutes, trying to plan out exactly what she’ll say. Eventually, she knocks and holds her breath. When you open the door, Sophia’s heart breaks at the sight. Your eyes were red and you looked tired. You had heavy bags under your eyes and your hair looks dishevelled. You were definitely caught off guard by Sophia just showing up at your door. 

“Hey,” Sophia speaks softly.

“Hey, what do you want?” Your words have a slight bite to them. Sophia winces at your tone, but she knows it’s well deserved. 

“Um, I just wanted to apologize, you know, for last night,” she says avoiding eye contact with you. You sigh heavily.

“Yeah, okay,” your girlfriend looks up at you confused by your words.

“Okay?” 

“Okay. What you said was totally out of line and right now I don’t particularly feel like talking to you,” your voice is flat and she can sense a hint of anger in it. 

“Oh…” Sophia trails off, now feeling stupid for coming over. Obviously you wouldn’t want to talk to her. “Right, sorry. But can’t we just try and talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about? I understand you were sad and disappointed in yourself, Soph, but you don’t get to just lash out at someone who didn’t actually need to be there. I chose to be there, for you, and then you say shit like, ‘I don’t want you to be here’ That’s not fair to me and you know it,” you breathe out, happy to finally get that off your chest. 

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever I have to do to show you that I’m sorry. Please just forgive me and I’ll make it up to you, please Y/N,” she begs, her eyes full of tears at this point. Now it’s your turn to avoid eye contact, looking anywhere but her eyes. You hate seeing her cry, more than anything. While your heart aches to just forgive her, you know that you can’t just let it go that easily. She’s said sorry, but that alone is not enough. 

“Soph, I’m sorry. I think I need some space.”

“What? No, no, no, please Y/N. I’ll do anything,” she continues to plead with you. 

“I’m not breaking up with you, okay? Don’t worry. I just need some time. What you said wasn’t cool and I just want to calm down a bit,” you say trying to keep the emotions out of your voice. You feel terrible at how heartbroken Sophia looks. “Sophia?”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, that’s okay. As long as you're not breaking up with me,” she mumbles, wiping at the tears running down her cheeks.

“No, God no. It’s just a break,” you say quickly, wanting to make sure she understood. She smiles slightly at how panicked you looked. With that, she moves to walk away, but not before giving you a hug and a kiss on your cheek. You blush slightly, watching sadly as she walks away. 

For the next few weeks, you and Sophia did not talk. You went back to your apartment in Monaco and continued to train and prepare for the Dutch Grand Prix. Sophia went back to Portland and after taking a week off recovering from the World Cup, rejoined training with the Thorns. Everyone could see how distracted Sophia looked at training and outside of it. They knew that you guys were on a break and that you were not talking to each other. While she was still playing well, her friends noticed that she was a lot quieter and that she didn’t seem to want to spend too much time with other people more than she had to. Your own team could also see how sad and distant you looked. So, a few days before you were due to fly to the Netherlands, your teammate and friend, Lando Norris, suggested you ask her if she wanted to come to the race.

A/N: I know that the race weekend is scheduled from the 25-27th and that Portland has a game on the 27th, but let’s just pretend that there is no game lol.

Agreeing with the idea, you send Sophia a text asking if she wanted to fly out to the Netherlands and watch the race. Sophia, of course, says yes and immediately starts to pack her bags. You send her the tickets for the weekend and the plane. 

As Sophia walks into the paddock, she’s nervous but excited. There was someone from the McLaren team showing her to the garage, and while she had come to a few Grand Prix’s before the car had been terrible then. Since the last time she came, the team had seen a ginormous amount of improvement. Now, you were competing for podiums and top 5 finishes instead of trying to not finish in the bottom 5. She was shown to your driver room and told that you were in a meeting, but you’d be done soon. After waiting for about ten minutes the door opens and you walk in, with your race suit hanging around your waist and the black fireproofs leaving little to the imagination. You stop your movements when you see Sophia sitting there.

“Hey, thanks for coming I know it was pretty last second,” you say sincerely.

“Yeah, it’s no problem. Thanks for inviting me,” she responds. She notices you playing with your hands nervously. Deciding that you need to stop, she stands up and reaches out, grabbing your hands and encouraging you to play with the rings on her hands instead. You smile softly, finding it sweet that she always remembers you like to play with her rings. For a few moments, there was silence. Then you break it with your words,

“How have you been?” Sophia sighs, thinking back to the last couple of weeks.

“I’ve been…okay,” you give her a look, “What?”

“The bags under your eyes say differently.” The US player looks down, embarrassed. 

“Okay, so maybe I haven’t been that great.”

“Mhm, well I guarantee you’ve been better than I have,” you murmur. Sophia gives you a questioning look. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t focus, I did terrible in the simulator training. I think some space was good for us, but now I think I’m feeling better.” She smiles at you, raising her eyebrows, encouraging you to continue “Do you wanna get back together?” Sophia smirks,

“I thought we didn’t break up? We were just on a break,” she challenges. Your eyes widen at your mistake,

“Err, well, shit.” She laughs at the expression on your face. “Well, whatever we were on, do you want to stop it now?”

“Yes please,” she requests. You chuckle lightly, before wrapping your arms around her neck. She smirks and rests her hands on your hips then leans in slowly. Your lips meet and start to move against each other. One of her hands moves across your abdomen, your abs tensing slightly under your fireproofs. She runs her tongue across your lips asking for access which you grant. Your tongues fight for dominance as she pushes you against the wall, deepening the kiss. After a couple more seconds, you pull away from each other.

“So, no more break right?” You ask teasingly. She fake ponders the question until you hit her shoulder lightly. She laughs,

“Yeah, yeah. No more break, babe” You grin and connect your lips once again.

For the rest of the weekend, Sophia is by your side. She loves hanging out with the mechanics and engineers. She also really likes Lando, who’s in a good mood for most of the weekend because the car is performing really well. Your girlfriend watches from the garage in excitement as you get your first-ever podium in F1 at Zandvoort. The Internet goes mad when you point and blow her a kiss from the podium, something which she returns. The team starts the post-race celebrations inside the garage while you are finishing up some media and debriefs. When you come running in everybody cheers and there are a lot of hugs and high-fives given out. You go straight to Sophia, holding your 2nd place trophy proudly.

“Babe! Babe! Look what I’ve got! It’s so shiny!” You shout happily. She laughs at the giddy expression on your face.

“Yeah I see it, love. It’s pretty cool,” she says while pulling you into a tight hug, “I’m so proud of you.” The smile that you give her melts her heart. For the rest of the night, you two stay tight together and drink the rest of the champagne in the bottle given to the podium finishers. A couple of weeks ago you thought your relationship was over, but now here you are with your girlfriend proudly beside you for one of your lifelong dreams. It doesn’t get much better than that.

[rockingrobin69]

Basic Maths

“Draco said he can’t sleep,” Harry admitted, half-mumbled into his coffee, for some reason blushing over this, mostly concerned, but Ron just hummed and said, “That’s sweet.”

“What?”

“What?”

“What’s sweet?”

Freckled nose scrunched up. “You said he can’t sleep. Because he misses you. That’s a bit sweet, isn’t it?”

“I never said,” gasping, “Ron, it’s been three days. He can’t be missing me so much after three fucking days.”

The look on his face, exasperated and something else. “Mate.”

“What?”

“You what. Why do you think—no, it’s too early in the morning.” Tapping his shoulder, this tired look that had nothing to do with the fact it was barely six. “Harry, you’re my best mate, but you’re rubbish at this.”

That’s exactly what he was so scared of. Being rubbish at this. He didn’t know how to do—any of this, didn’t know how to, say, think the right words. Worried he’s misinterpreting everything because he’s so desperate for the tiniest of shred of… Enough. Another sip of coffee, miserable: enough.

“Harry,” great, now Ron sounded miserable too, “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” rougher than intended. “It’s fine. Let’s just get to work, all right?”

Ron stared at him for the longest moment, but then he sighed, and his shoulders rolled with it. “All right. We’ll talk about this tonight?”

“Sure thing.”

They won’t.

*

“And he got me another one, although I specifically said not to,” trying for a pout, ending somewhere like a sigh, rolling his eyes at how ridiculous this man was, and Hermione smiled and said, “What a wanker.”

“Right?” twitching in his seat.

“Absolutely. Getting you the pastry you like even though you specifically told him not to.”

“It’s just, every time we go to his place he—‘Mione, he’s worse than Molly.”

Hermione’s eyebrow arched. “Uh-huh. Worse, you say. Harry, you’ve not stopped smiling all day.”

“What? No I’ve not.” Nonsensically offended. “I’m… just wish I knew what he’s thinking.”

The look in her eyes, something terrible, hot and itchy like pity. “Harry.”

“No, I know, I know. I’m blowing it all out of proportions and it’s not a big deal and it shouldn’t be, right, we’re casual, and we’re friends, and that’s a lot more important. There’s no need to overcomplicate it.”  

“Harry—”

“It’s fine.” Coughed until he’s convinced himself too. “It’s fine. Let’s just… eat, yeah?”

He could see she was dying to say it, but thankfully, mercifully, she just grimaced and shook her head. “Fine. You’ll figure this out, won’t you?”

“Yeah. Probably.”

He won’t.

*

“Then he knocked on the door with the scarf in his hands. Gin, I think he went all the way back just to get it.”

“Mad,” Ginny said and stole another chip from his Styrofoam tub. “No, that man is completely mad, so much is true.”

“Isn’t he just. He was soaking wet—I had to convince him to stay and take a bath while his clothes went in the tumble drier.” Left unsaid: how impossibly soft Draco had looked in Harry’s robe, with his hair curling sweetly and his cheeks all pink. How he curled on Harry’s sofa and watched the telly with an arched eyebrow, obviously not following but still enchantingly caught.

Left unsaid how Harry leaned closer just to smell his own shampoo on Draco, how it squeezed his chest so tight he thought he might die. How lovely, how brilliant, how terrible it was to have him this close and this warm and this wrong.

“Harry,” Ginny’s sigh brought him back to the café, to the bright lights and the ache that still didn’t quite leave his belly, “you’re such a bloody idiot, I could strangle you.”

“Hmm? What? Why!”

“Why. He asks me why. You practically have love-hearts for eyes and here you are asking me why.”

Harry grunted something not-quite in English. “I don’t… it doesn’t matter. How I feel. He’s the one who said about keeping it casual. He’s obviously not—” lost the rest of the sentiment to a sigh, bone-crushing. Ginny was staring at him with an open mouth.

“Doesn’t matter,” she repeated, sounding dazed. “Harry, you berk, just talk to him.”

“We talk all the time.”

“No, I mean, actually talk to him. Why's that so terrifying? You’re meant to be this fairly-brave man, remember?”

Meant to be, was the point exactly. If she asked him to step into a burning house to save him (and not that it was a fantasy that Harry spent so much time dreaming about, in frightening detail)—but this was something else. Harry’s never learned how to… won’t be able to handle this particular loss. After everything, this would be the thing to break him, of that he was sure.

“Just talk to him. You’ll see, everything will be all right.”

It won’t.

*

“Just wondering if, erm, you know when he’s meant to be back, or…” his voice died into a croak. Pansy, still with her arms crossed, glared.

“No idea. Now, if that’s all.” Going for the door, and Harry’s heart—

“Wait!” with his foot forward, with his chest writhing, “wait, it’s not all. I don’t understand why he’s so angry. What did I do? Pans, please.”

Must have been the tone that got to her, the crack in his voice, because Pansy’s frown softened. “You two will be the death of me. I swear, if I have to listen to him whining one more time—”

“What is he whining about? Why… he looked so miserable. And now I can’t eat anything or get any sleep and I need to know, I need to know why he’s so upset and how to make it right. How do I make it right?”  

Pansy’s wide eyes. “What… you’re joking. Why he’s upset? Not even you are that clueless.”

“But what if I am. What if I am, and I’m losing my mind. I miss him so terribly it’s like my belly’s on fire and it’s only been a couple of days and please, I just, don’t understand why he’s angry with me when I’m so bloody—” exhausted, and terrified, and mostly exhausted. Not the lack of sleep: the lack of Draco in his life, the lack of his smile and his snarl and his cologne, and his hair and his eyes and his hands.

“Shit,” Pansy said, something flashing on her face. “You’re bonkers for him too, aren’t you.”

Wasn’t really a question, but Harry still nodded, tragic. Swallowed. Swallowed again. Bonkers for him too. “You’re not trying to say…” but he couldn’t even finish. She was, he thought, trying to say. “Why didn’t he just—tell me? I’ve been—he’s—no, that’s not possible.”

“Not possible,” Pansy said.

“No, no. He would have—I’ve been—for years. He’d have said something. I couldn’t be more obvious if I fucking tried.”

“Have you met Draco?” sneering again. “Our Draco?”

Something like laughter, hot and terrible, itchy up his throat. “Okay, yes, but…” not sure how to, what to, so panicked because he couldn’t face losing him, not Draco, their Draco, his Draco. “How do I make him realise. That I—too. That I, more.”

Sighing dramatically: “I think you know how.”

Already taking a step back, still shaking his head, his whole chest fluttering with giddy panic: “I—I have to—”

“Go, you arsehole,” but she was smiling.

What if Draco refused to speak to him? What if he wouldn’t listen. What if it was too late. What if he didn’t want Harry anymore? Harry tried to breathe.

He couldn’t.

*

“Idiot,” Draco was laughing, dear and too bright in his arms. “I can’t believe you…”

“I can’t believe you,” delirious with joy, burst open with affection, “you git, why didn’t you just tell me.”

“Beg pardon? Why didn’t you just tell me?”

On the sofa, curled around each other, and this humming in Harry’s ears that could only be contentment, that could only be burning, aching relief. “Dunno. Suppose it was… I couldn’t bring myself to risk it. I was too scared.”

Draco’s eyes were so grey and so close. “I thought I was so obvious. I thought—”

“I know.” Couldn’t believe he just gets to kiss his nose like that. Couldn’t believe Draco’s arms around him or the little sound he made when Harry nuzzled his neck. “We were maybe being a little silly.”

“A little,” Draco said, fondness dancing in his eyes. “Come here.”

Harry would, always, always. “Kiss me, you silly man.”

“Impatient, are we. I’ve only wanted this for, what… what are you doing, you berk!” to Harry, lifting him in the air a bit with the jump and settling again, closer, ever closer. Draco’s laughter rang in his ears, soothed something in his writhing belly.

“We’re not casual,” Harry said. “I’m so serious about you, Draco.”

“Not casual,” he nodded. “Is this what you wanted? Are you happy?”

Too much for words: he was.

(Flufftober day 5. Find the soft AO3 collection here).