#my roommate last year pretended she liked them then admitted to me later that she still got nightmares from a movie we watched | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xaphrin · 3 years ago

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Give it That Good Ol’ College Try

Day Four - College AU

This is from College Try, if you want to read the rest of it.

Raven felt the press of a hundred different bodies against her, and the smell to match. The fraternity always threw an End of Finals party, but this one seemed bigger than the last. Noise and music relentlessly filled her head. Excitement and relief seemed to be the primary emotion, and everyone there was either drinking to celebrate passing their classes, or drinking to forget their failures. She watched through the window as some of the party spilled out onto the front lawn. A freshman had thought it was wise to try and piss off Connor, but they didn’t realize that under that cheerful exterior, he was harboring the strength of an ox.

Raven winced as Connor punched him in the face before hefting the younger man over his shoulders and immediately dropping the freshman’s body into the front lawn. She shook her head and started weaving her way through the crowd of people, looking for Donna. They had all arrived at the party together, but Donna and Karen somehow snuck away when Raven wasn’t looking, leaving her wandering through a crowd of people she didn’t know. With an annoyed sigh, she slipped under an arm and headed towards the common space, where most people were standing around, drinking or dancing. They had to be here somewhere. They wouldn’t just leave her… would they? Someone drunkenly slammed into her, and Raven stumbled forward, her face smacking into another person’s shoulder.

She winced and rubbed her nose, looking up as the person in front of her turned around.

“You just got here. Don’t tell me you’re drunk already.”

Raven shook her head and looked up into Damian’s face, feeling her stomach tighten and her heart pick up speed. Of course she would bump into him. Memories of their last encounter filled her head, but she tried to keep herself from feeling ashamed. She masturbated, so what? She just… wished Damian didn’t have to know that. Instead she gave a one-shouldered shrug and leaned back on her heels, trying to look nonchalant. “I guess I’m still getting my sea legs.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was a small tug at the edge of his mouth, as if he was trying to keep from smiling. “Well, as long as you don’t go tumbling down the steps at the marina again, I think we should be fine. I’d like to avoid another late-night trip to urgent care if possible.”

Heat crawled up her neck, and she opened her mouth to snap something sharp back at him.

“Although…” He lifted his stare to the ceiling, pretending to think. “I didn’t mind what happened later.”

Her mouth slammed shut, and her blush darkened as she thought about the way his hands and lips felt on her. Raven would have been out-right lying if she said that she didn’t think about their time together every spare moment she had. Their make out session had been brief, but fuck. It was enough to make her wake up in the middle of the night, her legs twisted in her sheets and panting. Damian was one hell of a kisser - not that she’d ever admit that outloud to him.

She feigned indifference. “It was alright.”

“Mm-hm.” Damian nodded once, looking rather full of himself rather than deflated. “Noted. I guess next time I’ll have to try harder.”

Hell. If he tried any harder, Raven really would go up in flames. She managed to keep herself from shivering at the memories, and ignored his banter. There was a moment’s pause between them before she spoke again. “Have you managed to find someone willing to put up with your pompous ass as a roommate for next year?”

“No.” He lifted an eyebrow, searching her face. “Why? Are you officially submitting an application?” There was another pause, which immediately turned into a note of excitement in his voice that he tried to cover up. “Does that mean you got your acceptance letter?”

Raven nodded, a smile breaking through. “Yeah. I just got it today. I guess the two of us will be seeing each other for another few years.”

“Seeing each other?” Damian smirked, a suspicious glint in his eyes. “Is that so?”

“Not like that!” Raven glared at him, knowing he was trying to get a rise out of her. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know.” He feigned ignorance and lifted his eyes to the ceiling, as if thinking. “The whole idea could be misunderstood.”

Raven was about to respond when she felt someone slam into her back, dumping an entire cup of cheap beer over her. She winced and turned around to see some drunk idiot stumbling away without an apology, trying to suck the last few drops out of his now-empty cup.

“Shit.” Raven looked down at herself, frowning. She was wet, sticky, and smelled of cheap beer.

“That’s definitely a start to your evening.” Damian looked down at her and laughed, motioning her to follow as he wove his way through the press of the crowd. “Come on, I’ve got a spare shirt up in my room you can borrow.”

She huffed, annoyed as she tried to peel her soaked shirt off her. “Is that a come on?”

He paused and looked back at her, his eyes searching her face for a moment. “Only if you want it to be.”

He was so blatantly honest that it shook her. Raven thought back to the way his lips felt pressed against hers, and the heat that burned between them. Something flared up inside her to the point where sweat prickled along her skin and electricity seemed to buzz in the back of her head. Did she want what he had offered before? The question weighed heavily on her, and she felt her own thoughts waffle. On one hand, she was still feeling uncertain about how quickly their feelings had shifted, but on the other hand… she wanted him. She couldn’t deny how much she wanted him, especially not after she had masturbated to thoughts of him.

Raven followed him up to the third floor of the massive house, where the sounds and smells of the party faded away. As they passed a few rooms, moaning could be heard, and Raven felt herself blush, wondering if that would be them in a few minutes. Damian paused outside his room, sliding his key into the lock and ushering her inside.

Raven breathed a sigh of relief to see Damian’s room was spotless, and smelled faintly of pine. It was an oasis of cleanliness in the otherwise filthy sea of frat boys. She also appreciated that he had a small en suite bathroom, which was probably a perk of being frat president.

“You look surprised.” He walked to his dresser and pulled out a black t-shirt that was entirely too big for her.

“I mean… I would have never pegged you for someone dirty, but I expected at least a shirt or sock on the floor or something.” She glanced around, inspecting the space with a keen eye. “A dirty magazine by the bed?”

“A dirty magazine? What are you? Fifty? That’s what the internet is for.” He gave her a lopsided smile before nodding to the small bathroom. “You can go clean up in there. I’d probably soak your shirt a little in the sink too.”

“Thanks.” She ducked into the small bathroom, happy that it was just as clean as his bedroom, and stripped her shirt off to run it under water in the sink.

As she looked in the mirror, she remembered she was wearing her only lacy bra, and she wondered if she subconsciously expected this. Okay, maybe not expect getting a whole Solo cup of beer poured on her, but maybe she expected to find herself in his bedroom. Her eyes flitted over her reflection, taking in the small smattering of make up on her face and her bra. Her boobs did look nice, it would be a shame to put them away…

Raven chewed on her lower lip as her stomach twisted, and she looked at his shirt still folded nearly on the counter. She could put it on and return to the party…

Or…

Raven felt the rush of the past few weeks slam into her suddenly. Everything from her date with Damian, to his confession of his feelings, the way he took care of her when she sprained her ankle, and their inevitable make out session when he brought her home. He kissed like he knew every intimate detail of her body and was determined to exploit it. She thought about how he didn’t tease her (too much anyway) about the incident with her vibrator. And she couldn’t ignore the way Damian looked at her when she told him that she had gotten into grad school. He looked excited and happy for her, and there was something that warmed her at that thought.

Raven took a deep breath and steeled her resolve as she pulled off her leggings. Her boring, cotton underwear definitely wasn’t sexy, but hopefully they wouldn’t stay on long enough to notice. She took one deep breath and opened the bathroom door.

Damian was sitting on the edge of his bed, glancing at something on his phone. “Are you ready to… oh.”

She swallowed, and tried to look like she had planned this, and that it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision. “We don’t have to go back to the party.”

“I’d prefer it if we didn’t.” Damian stood up and walked towards her, his eyes sliding over every curve as he appreciated her. “I don’t want to misunderstand whatever this is between us, so…”

Raven’s shoulders fell. “I’m standing in front of you in my underwear. What else is this supposed to be?”

“I want to be sure.”

Raven grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him down far enough that she could kiss him. It was better than she remembered. Heat burned where they touched, and Raven’s hands tightened so hard in his shirt that she thought she might tear it off him. He smiled against her lips for just a moment before he met her kiss with vigor. Kiss after kiss after kiss, until she felt like she was so drugged with sensation that she couldn’t breathe. Her head was spinning and she thought she might be on fire.

Finally, Damian pulled back, his hands feathering up and down her back, drawing lazy patterns. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I…”

Raven’s hands - which had been pulling at the hem of his shirt - paused, and she looked up at him. A bolt of panic speared her heart, and she realized that she wasn’t entirely sure what she was thinking when she started kissing him. Maybe this wasn’t what he wanted. “What?”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured into this, Raven.”

“Mm-hm.” She pulled at his shirt and drew it over his head. “You’re sober, right?”

“Yeah…” He wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

“And I’m sober.”

“And?”

“And this is a decision we’re making as consenting adults. So… no, Damian. I don’t feel pressured.” She let her eyes drift over his sculpted chest, and another shiver slipped down her spine. Dear god. It should be illegal for him to look like that. “Do… you feel pressured?”

“No.” He reached up and toyed with the clasp of her bra. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something else, but he decided against it. Instead, he smirked and leaned over her, finally unclasping her bra. “I did mean what I said. I want to make you come - preferably with my mouth first.”

Heat slammed into her at top speed, and Raven nearly ripped her underwear as she shoved it down her legs. “Yeah?” Excitement and panic was mingling inside her to create something she didn’t have a name for, and all she could think to do was goad him. “You have such faith in your skills, Damian?”

He snorted and kissed down her neck, his hand cupping her breast as he toyed with her nipple, circling it with the pad of his thumb. It felt like she was consuming her. He nipped at her pulse, likely leaving a mark. “Are you goading me, Raven?”

“I’ve just never known a man who knows what he’s doing when he’s down there.” She shrugged, her hands trembling as he continued to kiss over her shoulders. “You can talk a good game all you want, but no one has ever made me come like that before.”

“Oh, this is a challenge.”

He sucked gently on her collarbone, his fingers teasing her nipples into tight peaks. Every brush of his fingers sent another wave of heat between her legs, and Raven had to squeeze her thighs together to find at least some relief. If he touched between her thighs, He would find her soaking wet and ready for him. He was definitely better than she gave him credit for, but she would be damned to admit that to him.

His mouth kissed over her chest, and he dipped his tongue into her cleavage. “And what do I get if I get you off with my mouth alone?”

She swallowed, suddenly realizing she was treading dangerous waters. “What do you want?”

“Let me think.” His hand slid up her thighs, and he traced the length of her, pretending to think. “You have to be my roommate while we’re in grad school.” He smiled. “You’re so wet, Raven.”

She blinked and glanced down as he kissed over her breast before lapping at her nipple. He teased it with his tongue for just a moment before drawing the peak into his mouth and sucking hard. Oh. Oh she was in trouble. Electricity skittered over her skin, and she only kept herself from moaning by biting the inside of her cheek. His mouth was hot and rough, giving her the exact amount of pressure she needed, and somehow left her begging for more. She shivered and absently played with his hair. “I… thought you rescinded the offer.”

He shrugged and stood back up, turning her before pushing her back along his bed. “The offer is still on the table.” His gaze raked over her, and Raven felt her blood start to boil in her veins. He shook his head and stopped forward. “You don’t even realize how gorgeous you are.”

She was surprised her blush managed to get darker, but somehow it happened. Raven summoned all the courage she could muster, and she spread her legs, looking up into his face. “Well… I’m waiting.”

Damian growled and he crawled on the bed, kneeling between her legs. “Oh, I am going to enjoy this.”

Before Raven knew what to say back to him, he leaned forward and let the tip of his tongue split her. Oh fuck. She was in trouble. Just one pass of his tongue and she already knew that he knew what he was doing. Raven’s fingers buried into his hair and she shivered as she felt him hook his hands around her hips, dragging her tighter against his mouth. Damian made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded somewhere between pleasure and contentment, and Raven thought she might come from that sound alone.

He used his hand to open her to him fully, blowing gently on her clit. Raven’s hips bucked and she shivered. “T-tease.”

“Yeah?” He lifted his eyes to hers and never looked away as he circled the tip of his tongue around her swollen clit.

Oh fucking god. She wasn’t just going to lose, she was going to die, and he was going to be relentless when he killed her. Desperately she tried to think about something boring - her Chem 101 class she failed. Or-

Her thoughts splintered as Damian wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked. Fuck. She was so done for. Her hand tightened in his hair and she pushed her hips up into his mouth, practically riding his face. Damian took the hint, and he did not disappoint. His lips and tongue worked on her with renewed fervor, tasting every part of her. Flicking against her clit before sliding into her, savoring her. Every stroke made her feel like she was going to explode, and Raven was practically riding his face in seconds, desperately chasing that high. She didn’t care if she lost his bet, she would find a way out of it later. All she really knew was that he was about to give her the best orgasm of her life.

“Damian…”

At the sound of his name, he redoubled his efforts, his tongue a blur against her clit until Raen felt herself careening over the edge. Her hand pushed his mouth tight against her clit and she rode out her orgasm with his tongue stroking her over and over and over. It was like she was being pulled apart before she was thrown back together. Her head was filled with colors and sounds, and it was gorgeous.

Finally Raven collapsed back on his bed, panting.

But Damian didn’t stop.

He kept going, his broad shoulders forcing her thighs wide. His mouth continued to tease her clit, and she felt him slide two fingers into her, pumping with sure, long strokes. Raven shuddered and she whined, feeling her second orgasm start to burn inside her again. Her body was still shaking, and yet the hollow heat was still burning in the pit of her stomach. He was stoking the flames, bringing her higher and higher until she thought her head might burst and every secret thought she ever thought about him was going to spill in the space between them.

“D-damian… you… made your point… I-”

Her words were cut off as he added a third finger fucking her so fast and hard, that Raven was uncertain if she had two orgasms run into each other or he just drew out one for that long. Tears were running down her face, and she felt his pull back just a little, lapping up every part of her like he didn’t want to waste a drop of her cum.

Finally, Damian sat back on his heels and grinned at her, licking his lips. “I can keep going.”

“If you do, I’m going to die.”

“Yeah?” He stepped off the bed and dropped his jeans to the floor, taking his underwear with them.

Raven stared at him, giving a shrill laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

Damian blinked and looked down at himself, confused. “What?”

“Your dick is the size of a goddamned tree trunk, Damian!” Raven found herself shrinking back against his pillows, staring at him. “How in the hell do you think that’s going to fit?”

He gave an incredulous snort and fished around in his bedside table for a condom. Raven noted that he was reading to expiration date, and she wondered when the last time he slept with anyone. He certainly wouldn’t have been wanting for any partners, given his stupid good looks and his massive cock.

“I assure you, I’ll fit.” He rolled on his condom and moved closer to her. “Unless you want to stop?”

Raven glanced down at his cock before looking back into his face. For half a second she thought she might say no. Instead, she found herself wondering what he was going to feel like inside her, stretching her wide and fucking her with as much vigor as he ate her out. She shivered and spread her legs.

“I’m not going to back down from a challenge.”

“Yeah?” He hooked her legs in the crook of his arm and spread her wider, lining the tip of his cock up with her. “Is that what my dick is? A challenge?”

“Well, Mount Everest is a challenge, and your dick is bigger than that so-”

“Raven?”

She snapped her mouth shut and looked up at him.

“Stop talking so I can fuck you properly.”

Before she could think of a comeback, he pushed the first inch of himself inside her. Raven’s hands scrambled for his shoulders, and she tried to force herself to relax. The few guys she had slept with had been average at best. Damian was way above average. And if his performance with his mouth was any indication of his prowess in bed, she was in for one hell of a ride.

Raven felt every thick, glorious inch of him slide into her, until he was buried to the hilt. Her nails were digging into his shoulders so hard she thought she might have drawn blood. Gasping, Raven lifted her eyes to his face and shivered. She swore she could feel every twitch and throb of his cock, and her body responded in kind. Heat burned along every nerve ending, and her clit practically ached. It was like her body knew that her orgasm was going to come quick and never stop.

Damian let go of a heavy breath and he leaned over her. “Touch your clit, habibti.”

There was a reverence to the name, and Raven vaguely wondered what he called her.

“Touch your clit,” he repeated. “Because This is going to be fast and hard and I don’t want to come without you.”

Raven watched as he took a hand from his shoulder and brought two of her fingers to his mouth, sucking on them before he dropped her hand back to her clit. Damian pulled back and slammed back into her. Oh fuck. Raven’s fingers stuttered over herself and she whined, feeling Damian slam into her again. Lightning erupted behind her eyes, and she found her fingers rubbing quick, sharp circles over her clit in sync with his thrusts. One right after the other, until his hips were practically a blur and Raven could feel tears streaming down her cheeks.

She had never felt this kind of pleasure. It was darkness and light combined. Sin and heaven. Everything she wanted and nothing she knew she needed. Her hands dropped away from herself, and she knew in the back of her mind that she was screaming, but she didn’t care if anyone heard her. All she knew was that she was coming, and it wasn’t going to stop.

Orgasms ran into each other, one right after another until she was a sobbing mess. Her body had a mind of its own, desperately seeking out pleasure until it became almost painful. Damian was relentless. He fucked hard and fast, each movement of his hips slamming into her so hard it was almost bruising. But, fuck. She liked it. She wanted more and more. Her nails dug into his back and she met every one of his thrusts, beggin for him to keep going. She was a blathering mess, and she didn’t care. She wanted and he gave it to her without question.

Finally, Damian threw his head back and he roared like some kind of wild animal, his pace furious. Raven watched his face, his mouth open in pleasure, his head thrown back, and she didn’t think a sexier image existed anywhere in the world. Finally he fell over her, catching his weight with his arms. He was gasping and shivering, the aftershocks of their orgasms running through both of them.

A silence settled over them, and Raven could hear the faint sounds of the party still raging below them, but it all felt hazy. The world outside this room didn’t exist, and Raven liked it that way. Shuddering, she let go of a soft sigh and lifted her eyes to his face. “Ah… so…”

Damian snorted and nuzzled her neck. “I think I liked it better when you could only scream my name.”

Heat colored her face and she pushed at his chest. “Shut up.”

“I’m not the one trying to talk during cuddles.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” She gave an indelicate snort. “Because I’m pretty sure you don’t cuddle after that kind of sex.”

“Yeah? Well, I do.” He picked his head up and looked down at her, his eyes dark. “I mean, if it’ll get you to shut up, I could go down on you again.” He grinned, his expression devious. “It’ll give me time for my dick to get hard and then I can fuck you again.”

Raven didn’t think she would survive if he did that, and her expression turned panicked. “I… have to clean up.”

He gave a knowing chuckle, and slid from her body. “Sure.”

Raven stumbled to the bathroom, her steps unsure as she moved into the bathroom. She cleaned up quickly, as she splashed cold water on her face. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she felt as though she didn’t recognize who was looking back at her. This woman was sexed up, her hair wild and her chest peppered with lovebites. She looked wild and unhinged, in the best kind of way. She… kind of liked the girl staring back at her.

With a soft sound, Raven grabbed Damian’s shirt from the counter and threw it on. Maybe if he couldn’t see her body he wouldn’t be so desperate for it. She doubted it, but it was worth a shot to save her quickly dwindling sanity. Finally gathering enough of her wits, she moved back into his bedroom. Damian was half under the covers staring at her. He smiled and pulled back the comforter in invitation.

Raven stood there and stared at him as she thought for a long moment. This felt so… strange. Things had changed dramatically since their date, and she didn’t know what to think about it. The last four years had been about dancing around each other, trying to one-up the other person, and being nothing less than frenemies. But… Damian showed he was different than he let on. He wasn’t really her enemy, or her rival anymore, he was more like a friend. A friend that knew how to eat the hell out of her. A soft flush worked up her neck again, and finally, she stepped forward and slid under the covers. His room was cold without any pants on, and Raven found herself pressing tight against his hard body - that he hadn’t bothered to dress.

“You know…” His fingers tangled in her hair and he smiled down at her, his expression pensive and soft. “I think I like seeing you in my clothes.”

Raven flushed again,trying to look unaffected. “Yeah? Maybe I’ll take this shirt forever then.”

Damian leaned over her, his smile turning practically evil. “Well, you can borrow any of my clothes when we live together.”

Raven blinked as horror filled her chest. If they actually lived together, she would never stop wanting to jump him every free second they had. “You’re not really going to hold me to that, are you?”

“Yeah. You lost the bet.” He laughed, the sound low and private. “Unless you want to make another wager?” He hiked her thigh over his hip, and Raven felt his fingers slide between their bodies, tracing her overstimulated clit with soft, gentle strokes. He was trying to rile her up again - and was succeeding marvelously. “What shall we wager… if I can make you come in under five minutes with my fingers alone… you agree to go on another date. If I can’t, then I guess you don’t have to live with me.”

“I can’t make myself come in five minutes.” Raven felt her hips already pushing into his hand, and she bit back another whine, determined not to show weakness. But fuck if this didn’t feel amazing. He was playing her like a well-loved instrument. “I doubt you can do it.”

“Yeah?” He pinched her clit and rolled it gently, making Raven’s head fall back on her shoulders. She had been thoroughly fucked just minutes before, but she wanted him again. And, judging by the way his cock twitched against her thigh, he wanted her again too. He shoved the shirt up over her breasts before he bent over and curled his tongue over her nipple, drawing it into his mouth, and sucking hard. Raven groaned and started to ride his hand.

“I… don’t think you…” Raven’s challenge disappeared on her tongue as she felt him bite her nipple. With a high pitched whine, she felt him slide three fingers into her again, curling them in just a way that made her feel like she was about to break apart at any second. His thumb rubbed tight, short circles over her clit as he continued to fuck her with his hand with hard, short movements. His mouth continued to suck on her breast, teasing her nipple until Raven’s head was spinning. Gasping, she drove herself down on his fingers, and clawed at his chest trying to find purchase in the storm that wracked her body.

Fuck everything. This felt amazing.

Her orgasm slammed into her without preamble, and Raven was screaming his name, shuddering as wave after wave of unadulterated pleasure consumed her like wildfire. She had been eaten out, fucked, fingered, and she felt completely and utterly drained. Euphoria coursed through her like a designer drug and all she could do was let it carry her away. Finally she sagged against his plush mattress, and Damian chuckled as he glanced at his watch.

“Three minutes ten seconds.”

Raven’s eyes opened a fraction and she glared at him. “You timed me?”

“Mm-hm.” He lapped her cum off his fingers, as if he enjoyed her taste more than anything in the world. How in the world was that so damned sexy. His soft mouth wrapped around his thumb and he grinned at her. “How else am I going to win this little bet?”

“Shut up.” Raven took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She licked her lips and met his stare as he draped an arm around her, drawing her close. Damian peppered soft kisses over her shoulders before tucking her into the warmth of his body. There was a long stretch of silence between them, and the rest of the world seemed so far away. But Raven couldn’t ignore the tension building inside her. She took a soft breath and let it out slowly. “So…”

Damian hummed a response. “So?”

“What…” She chewed on her lower lip, thinking. “What is this?”

He seemed taken aback by her question, confused that she could even think to ask such a thing. Another pause shifted between them before he spoke, his words careful. “What do you want it to be?”

“I don’t know.” Raven sighed and nuzzled her head under his chin, liking the scent of his spiced soap and sex mingling together. She liked it way too much. “Honestly, Damian. We’ve spent the last four years being frenemies. I thought you were nothing more than a spoiled, rich, pompous asshole.”

He snorted, but let her continue.

“And over the past few weeks you’ve shown me a side I never knew existed in you, and I don’t know how to reconcile all of that. You’re kind and soft, and you think of others often. You’re not the jerkward trying to one-up me in our History 101 class. I… I think I kinda like you, and I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Damian let another silence settle between them, weighing her words and his own carefully. “I have feelings for you, Raven.” He seemed exhausted by explaining to her again that he liked her. “I want to date you, but… you seem unsure. And I’m okay if you don’t want to label anything, we don’t have to. We can keep it easy, but… just know that while we’re whatever you decide for us, I won’t be looking elsewhere for a relationship.”

Raven processed that with a frown. “You want to be mutually exclusive fuck buddies?”

He snorted and pulled back, glanding down at her. “So, this wasn’t a one-time thing?”

“Dear god I hope not.” Raven looked up into his face. “You’re a freaking animal in bed. I haven’t ever come that many times. I’d like to have exclusive rights to your dick if you’re offering. Anytime I need a good orgasm, I’ll ditch the vibrator and come straight to your lap.”

Damian laughed and his hand slid down her back to grab a handful of her ass. “Yeah? Well, my dick is all yours if you come live with me.” He nipped at her lower lip. “But don’t ditch the vibrator. I have plans.”

The way he spoke made Raven shiver, and she swallowed hard. “Plans?”

“Plans,” he confirmed with a chuckle, the sound dark and imposing. “Oh, we’re far from finished. But if I keep fucking you the way I want to, you’re going to be sore in the morning. And I wouldn’t want to cause you any discomfort with my… what did you call it? Dick the size of a tree trunk?”

Raven tried not to think about how his dick was hardening against her stomach, and instead focused on what she could change. “Are you saying I’m going to be doing the walk of shame tomorrow morning?”

“No.” He clicked his tongue, obviously annoyed with her even suggesting that. “Of course not. I’m going to take you somewhere nice for brunch, drive out to the park and take a long walk, make out with you in the car - definitely finger you if you let me - and then I will take you back to your house and have coffee with Donna and Karen. Completely unashamed.”

Raven’s stomach tightened in anticipation. “Wow. You have this all planned out.”

He smirked. His hand was still kneading her ass and it was turning her on again. “Maybe I won’t be able to wait until the park to finger you. Maybe I’ll do it at brunch, and you have to keep a straight face while you’re ordering drinks.”

“I should have known you were kinky.” She rolled her eyes, but her fingertips were tracing his cock as she thought about it.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But you’re not saying no. So who’s the kinky one?”

He was right. The thought was delicious. His hands all over her as they sat in a crowded public space. Her mouth all over him in the park. Maybe she’d suck him off in the backseat of his expensive foreign car, listening to his begging whimpers as she gave him the best blowjob of his life. Another shiver slipped down her spine, but she suppressed it, and instead focused on wrapping her fingers around his cock, pumping slowly.

“So… back to my earlier question - what is this?” She tried to remain nonchalant, but the hitch in his breath excited her in the best possible way.

“I want to date you, Raven.” He glanced upward as if thinking, his hips unconsciously thrusting into her hand. “And I wouldn’t mind you as a roommate either.” His eyes flicked back to her own. “But the creamer stays out of the fridge.”

Raven laughed and pushed him on his back, her hand moving with renewed vigor. God he was massive. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “My house, my rules.”

Raven kissed down his chest, her tongue circling his nipples. He shuddered, a soft moan escaping as her thumb traced the slit on the heat of his cock. “Mm… let’s wager then.”

He seemed intrigued, but his thoughts were obviously clouded by her touch. “Wager what?”

“If you can keep yourself from coming for ten minutes, then I promise no flavored creamer in the house.” She nipped at his nipples.

His eyes narrowed. “You think I can’t last?”

Raven dragged her tongue down his chest, feathering over his abs and circling his navel. “Not when I’m sucking your cock like my life depends on it.”

The last thing she heard was his guttural moan as she took as much of him as she could into her mouth. He barely made it to five minutes. Raven’s jaw hurt like hell from trying to fit his giant cock into her mouth, but winning was worth it.

The flavored creamer was staying.

And so, apparently, was she.

#damirae #damiraesmutweek21 #demonbirds #adult nonsense

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queenshelby · 3 years ago

Text

The Last Semester - Part Three

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 3,345

Original Blog:

@queenshelby

Previous Parts: Part One; Part Two

***************************

The Blind Date

It was 7 o’clock when you walked into the local Irish pub, looking for your date Patrick in a crowded room. Luckily, Emma had shown you Patrick’s Facebook profile and he certainly was handsome and easily recognisable.

Unsurprisingly, when you saw him standing at the bar with a pint of Guinness, he had already caught the waitresses’ attention and she tried her best to flirt with him until you approached.

‘Hi, Patrick?’ you asked and he nodded before shaking your hand and suggesting that you find somewhere else to sit.

Eventually, you located one of the high-top tables on the other side of the pub and sat down with your beers and began talking.

Patrick was a doctor at the university campus who had graduated medical school as little as two years ago. But, whilst he clearly was smart, you quickly realised that he was somewhat arrogant and lacked a good sense of humour.

Regardless, you tried to make the most of the night until, eventually, Patrick sought some reassurance from you that you would be going home with him that night. According to him, he didn’t like wasting his time if there was nothing in it for him.

His comments caught you by surprise and you quickly advised him that you were not that kind of woman and you certainly wouldn’t go home with someone you barely knew.

Patrick was disappointed and the conversation escalated quickly when he called you a prude and referred to you as being a woman who simply uses men to get free drinks.

You were speechless and, at half time, you put $10 pounds onto the table for your drinks and excused yourself quickly, grabbing your bag and headed for the bathroom.

There was no way you would be putting up with a man like this and you couldn’t believe that Emma thought that you would like him. Did she really think as little of you, you wondered?

Later that Evening

‘Cillian, hey’ you said as, after spending ten minutes in the bathroom collecting your thoughts, you walked out towards the entrance of the pub.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ Cillian asked as he immediately noticed your red and somewhat teary eyes.

‘Well, let’s just say that my roommate set me up on a blind date with a total wanker’ you laughed but, really, you weren’t sure whether you should laugh or cry after what he had said to you. It certainly didn’t help your self-esteem and that was something you struggled with.

What you were, however, sure about was that you were ready to leave even if that meant that you would miss the second part of the game.

‘Do you want to get out of here?’ Cillian asked, his hand resting on your shoulder and his eyes giving you a concerning but yet reassuring look.

You quickly nodded and Cillian responded with a simple ‘common then’ before dumping his half full pint of beer and walking outside with you.

Once you made it out of the door unnoticed, you inhaled deeply. ‘Damn and I really wanted to see the game. Ireland is so close this time’ you pouted slightly disappointed.

‘I am going to watch the rest at my place. You are welcome to come along’ Cillian offered and you took a moment to think about his offer. You knew that your flatmates were having a party and the game was only available on pay tv and you would much rather sit on the lounge with Cillian and watch the Ireland beat France than clean up vomit and empty bottles of booze at home.

‘Uhm yes, why not. Thanks’ you said shyly and followed Cillian to his apartment which was only a five-minute stroll from the pub.

Finally some Privacy

‘Wine or beer?’ Cillian asked after you took off your shoes and sat down on the lounge in his living room.

‘Whatever you are having’ you responded and Cillian was quick to open a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

‘Thank you’ you said as he handed you a glass and sat down next to you. You really weren’t much of a red wine drinker but pretended to enjoy it.

There was an awkward silence between you as you watched the second half of the game but you enjoyed it nonetheless.

You struggled paying attention to the commentators as your mind focused on the man sitting next to you instead. The smell of his aftershave mixed with detergence he had used to wash his clothes drove you absolutely crazy. And then there were his hands, which you watched every time he reached for his glass of wine.

But it wasn’t just you watching Cillian. He watched you as well and often gazed over to you, focusing on your soft facial features.

Eventually, after about twenty minutes into the second half, you couldn’t bare the silence any longer and started a conversation.

‘So, you wanted to ask me something yesterday when I came to your office. But then you didn’t. I am curious though. What was it?’ you said shyly, slightly encouraged by the wine in your system.

‘I was actually going to ask you whether you wanted to watch the game tonight’ Cillian murmured, looking somewhat embarrassed when he looked over to you.

‘So why didn’t you?’ you went on to ask, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘Because I realised how inappropriate that would have been’ he admitted and you smiled, cheeks flushing red.

‘Well, here we are’ you said nervously, looking into Cillian’s deep blue eyes for a moment before trying to look away shyly.

But, Cillian wouldn’t let you, reaching for your face with one of his hands.

‘Hey’ he said quietly as his thumb ran over your chin gently. ‘I like when you look at me’ he then went on to say and, just like that, you leaned forward and pressed your lips onto his once again.

The kiss you shared was gentle and tentative, not rushed and not forced in any way. It was a simple kiss, brief but exciting.

‘I am sorry’ you said after your lips drifted apart, but this time, you didn’t look away and your eyes got lost in his.

Cillian shook his head briefly before drawing your face closer towards his again for yet another kiss. Again, it was tentative but, this time, you parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth and explore.

‘I shouldn’t be pursuing this Y/N’ Cillian said quietly as, eventually your lips drifted apart. ‘It’s not right on so many levels’ he went on to say but you quietened his lips with a third kiss, a passionate kiss which drew your body even closer towards his until you found your way onto his lap, facing him, pressing your body against his as your tongues moved with each other in sync.

‘I am a grown woman Cillian. I can’t see anything wrong with this and I certainly don’t want you to stop kissing me’ you said as your lips drifted apart again, a shy smile escaping you as you did.

‘I am also twenty years older than you and supervising your drama project’ he then went on to say somewhat concerned.

‘I don’t care about the difference in age and, technically, you aren’t my supervisor anymore, Aidan is’ you reassured Cillian, smirking at him as you did.

‘Still, not a good look getting involved with one of the students from the project’ Cillian said reluctantly but without making any attempt to push you away.

‘Well, I could leave now and you can ask me out again in three weeks when you finish up your volunteering position’ you then suggested all while you started to grind against him, feeling his erection strain against his jeans beneath you.

Your suggestion fell on deaf ears as Cillian already struggled to contain his emotions and needs with you on top of him and, just as you finished your sentence, he affirmed what he wanted with another passionate kiss.

The kiss you were sharing soon became heated and desperate and Cillian’s hands started to roam over your warm skin beneath your thin jumper.

His touch instantly sent shivers over you skin and down your spine and sent you into overdrive when his hands began to cup your small breasts.

You moaned into his mouth and, just after you did, you pulled back slightly, allowing him to pull your jumper over your head.

As he did, you suddenly felt a little nervous and self-conscious but it was obvious. He wanted you and his lips soon met yours again.

‘Cill…’ you said in between kisses and he looked at you, responding with a quiet ‘hmm’ as his eyes were questioning what you wanted to say.

‘It’s been two years since I have been with anyone and I don’t really do one night stands’ you murmured quietly and Cillian simply smiled, caressing your face with one of his hands before responding to your comment.

‘Good’ he said before giving you a quick peck. ‘Neither do I’ he reassured you without telling you that it had been six months for him too, which is when he broke up with his last long term girlfriend Nadine.

After another minute or two of more passionate kisses, Cillian picked you up and, before you could really prepare yourself for what was about to happen, you were in his bed.

Nervously but eager at the same time, you looked up at him with what you hoped were bedroom eyes.

He got the message and hoovered over you, kissing you gently before continuing to undress you, gentle but a little hurried.

You had already lost your jumper in the living room earlier and now he was pulling on your jeans, getting rid of them in a haste and leaving you exposed in your grey cotton underwear.

‘I didn’t quite plan for this’ you said nervously as you weren’t really dressed to impressed, your underwear simple and not sexy at all.

‘You look beautiful just the way you are Y/N’ Cillian reassured you before leaving a trail of kisses on your warm skin.

The anticipation was already killing you. With each passing second, his lips trailing over your bare shoulders and up your neck, you felt yourself shiver, the heat traveling right down to the taut muscles inside you, right between your legs. It was slick there, the result of your growing arousal.

It wasn’t long until Cillian unclipped your bra, exposing your small and perky breasts. You were impressed that he had immediately noticed the clasp of the bra at the front. He certainly paid attention to detail.

By now, your nervousness had sat in and your cheeks began to flush as his eyes gazed over your body.

Cillian noticed and simply responded with a warm smile before nudging your nose with his.

‘We can stop if you want to’ Cillian began to say but you immediately interrupted him.

‘I want you Cillian, please’ you whispered and he responded with a gentle nod.

‘Relax’ he then whispered before kissing you again and you took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

‘Cillian’ you eventually moaned as he nipped your throat with his teeth before sitting back.

You opened your eyes again and watched as Cillian grabbed his shirt from the back, and pulled it down over his head. Next off were his jeans, and then his briefs.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. His body was perfect, his chest was only lightly covered with some hair and his skin was covered in freckles.

But, when you lowered your eyes, your sense of shyness returned and seeing him completely naked in front of you caused you to flush.

He was clearly aroused by you, hard and ready, even though you only just started.

As you nervously looked at him, Cillian leaned forward and began to gently run his hands over your stomach, leaning down to kiss it, before hooking his index fingers into the hem of your panties and pulling them down your legs.

You inhaled sharply, almost forgetting to breath out again as he exposed your soaking wet mound.

What now, you wondered? Like the two men you’ve been with in the past, would he proceed directly to the main event?

‘You are so sexy, you know that?’ Cillian went on to say and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Sure’ you said nervously as he spread your legs before bending down and pressing his hot mouth right against your sopping wet slit.

You didn’t expect that and immediately let out a sharp gasp.

‘Oh god’ you moaned in pleasure as you put one of your hands in his hair and gripped the sheets beneath you with the other.

Cillian’s tongue ran through your slit several times before it swirled around over your clit gently.

‘Fuck’ you cried out, throwing your head back as he began to eat you out, his tongue working wonders on your sex-deprived pussy.

His hands were on your thighs, pushing them farther apart, fingers digging into your skin.

‘Please’ you eventually said, not even sure what you were pleading for. You just knew that he couldn't stop or you would scream.

Your pussy was sensitive, and it had been so long since you had sex and even then, you never quite experienced any sensation like this.

‘Cillian, oh god’ you moaned even louder as he sped up the movements of his tongue.

Within bare seconds, you came with a cry and a shudder. Unable to hold back, you let go, shutting your eyes to ride out your orgasm.

Involuntarily, you were grinding up on him, your hips lifting off the bed, toes curling.

‘That was quick’ Cillian chuckled after you came down from your high and before giving your inner thigh another quick kiss.

‘I am sorry, I don’t know what just happened’ you said somewhat embarrassed as you never had orgasmed before when being with someone else. In fact, you never even gotten close to climaxing when someone else pleasured you orally.

‘Don’t ever be sorry’ Cillian said, kissing you gently before sitting back again and reaching for the bedside table draw to his right.

You couldn’t wait to feel him inside of you and, shamelessly but also somewhat nervously, you watched him pull out a silver condom wrapper from the draw.

You bit your lip in anticipation was you watched him open the wrapper with his teeth before rolling the condom onto his hard shaft.

Cillian then leaned forward again, spreading your legs further apart with a nudge from his knees. He looked powerful above you, his body trained, stomach flat, waist trim, looking at you with such lust that you forgot for a moment that, just days ago, you were trying to forget all about him. He leaned down, kissing you, tasting you, making the heat spread all over your body as he slipped two of his fingers inside of you, curving inward.

‘Still so sensitive’ he chuckled while you gasped at the sensation.

‘Cillian, please’ you begged. But he didn't seem to hear you and put pressure down, jerking his hand and thrusting his fingers right against your previously unexplored g-spot.

‘Oh my fucking god, no no no’ you cried out, bucking your hips again almost instantly, this time squirting right into his hand. Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, your pussy still clenching on his fingers, desperate and needy.

‘Cillian, oh fuck’ you whimpered, not realising that you left a wet puddle on the sheets.

‘Wow’ Cillian grinned. He looked pretty pleased with himself as you sat up somewhat shocked, which is when you noticed what had just happened.

‘Oh my god. This is so fucking embarrassing’ you said when you noticed that you squirted for the first time.

‘Shh, it's okay’ Cillian murmured, calming you down and kissing you.

‘In fact, I think its fucking sexy and I hope I can make you do this again’ he smirked before guiding your back onto the mattress again.

‘I think you might’ you chuckled as you held out your arms and he melted into them, supporting himself with his arms.

‘I want to feel you so badly Cillian’ you moaned as his cock finally slid between your legs, making you squirm and buck your hips.

‘Patience’ Cillian said softly, and planted a kiss on the tip of your nose.

‘How can you restrain yourself?’ you asked, surprising you both.

Cillian raised an eyebrow, impossibly amused.

‘I’ve been restraining myself from wanting this for weeks’ Cillian said, and pressed his lips to your neck, kissing, nipping, biting and sucking. You closed your eyes, toes curling again, and gave into the pleasure. You did your best to wrap your legs around him, and he began to grind his cock down between your legs, right along the slit of your wet pussy.

When he finally entered you, you both let out a hiss of satisfaction, clutching at one another. The friction slow, drawn out, was enough to numb your mind. Your fingers dug into his back, his hands gripped the sheets, and he made love to you, driving inside of you with careful, deliberate movements.

‘Cillian’ you moaned as you felt him thrust in and out of you over and over again. But, hearing his groans and moans was exciting you just as much as the pleasure he gave you with his cock.

Cillian and you adjusted, getting familiar with one another, your bodies moving in slow grinds as he snapped his hips, making you shift yours off the bed. His pace quickened, and so did your breathing, and in one swift motion, you were a shuddering mess, feeling his cock hit that spot again, making you shatter.

At this point, Cillian was relentless, pounding into you, making you cry out in pleasure. You gripped his shoulders, fingernails leaving crescent marks behind, little slivers of moons, leaving your mark. He was yours and you were his.

You writhed under him, your pussy clenching around his thickness. His hands visibly shook, his breath wild as he moved in you, kissing you almost roughly, smashing his lips against yours, and in seconds, his tongue was sliding against yours as you tasted each other.

You anticipated each movement, feeling the bulge of his cock hard inside of you, filling you. Just when you thought you would come again, he withdrew and helped you to your knees, and when he entered you from behind, it was a whole other experience. He was deeper, and you seemed to drift together. You could smell his spicy aftershave, could smell your coupling in the air, thick and hazy, making you dizzy with desire.

Your bones seemed to ache from the feeling of his stomach muscles clenching hard against your back as he rutted into you. You pushed your ass back against his cock, and you found your rhythm, bodies slapping, panting and grunting in the dim light of his bedroom.

He was thrusting into you and with each passing second, you came closer and closer. You were whimpering, your entire body a mess of tightened muscles. An all-encompassing moan left your lips as his fingers found your clit, and as he rubbed, circling it, you came again, hard and fast.

Blinding gratification. Earth-shattering spasms. A delicious high, an overdose of emotions your body began to shake and your walls began to contract tightly around his thrusting cock.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Cillian groaned into your ear as he reached his high shortly after you did and you could feel his cock jerking inside of you.

His name was on your lips, but you couldn't say it; you couldn't say anything. You could feel every pulse inside of you, could feel every grunt and groan slip underneath your skin, could feel his taut muscles flush against your body. This wasn't just sex. It was heaven.

Just as you both finally came down from your high and while Cillian was kissing the back of your neck gently, he carefully pulled out of you and, just as he did, you could hear him swear.

‘Fuck’ he said in a trance as he pulled back, away from your body.

‘What is it?’ you asked and turned around immediately, looking down, noticing his cum leaking from you and down your inner thigh.

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

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weasleylangs · 4 years ago

Text

swipe right / f.w

Summary: Finding your best friend and your biggest crush on Tinder is always awkward. Pairing: Muggle!Fred Weasley x Muggle!Fem!Reader Warnings: Discussions of sex, language, alcohol, food/drink mention. Word Count: 6.9k (this is the longest thing i’ve ever written)

AUTHORS NOTE / hiiiii... this is my first fic in SO long but thank you for waiting for me!!! a huge thank you to my lovely rosie @spacexcowgirl for inspiring this fic and also listening to me ramble on about it for hours on end as i was writing it and for also beta reading it guys this fic rly wouldnt exist if it wasnt for rose so.........

/ also, george’s girlfriend in the fic is named ‘em’ and she has no physical description besides also using she/her pronouns. i’m trying this out so even people who aren’t (primarily) fred simps can self insert in this fic!!!

taglist / @amourtentiaa @weelittleweasley @lumos-barnes @lumosandnoxwriting @loveboyhalo @harrysweasleys @freds-slut @rcwenaclaw @barneswidow @fandomhideout

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

Y/N stared at her screen, the Tinder profile of Fred Weasley staring right back at her, teasing her ominously. She eventually decides to lock her phone to avoid the familiar and unwelcomed feelings rising in her throat. The last thing she ever expected to see during her mindless swiping at 1am was her best friend’s Tinder profile.

She knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way but she’s also not stupid. She and Fred both have had their fair share of dates and hookups thanks to dating apps- they’re in the twenties and single after all. But she can’t shake how weird she feels finding Fred. Like she’s stumbled across something private.

Y/N unlocks her phone again, curiosity eventually making her cave after staring at her ceiling blankly for way too long.

‘Pros: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that's a good thing). Cons: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that’s a bad thing).’

It’s a short and simple bio, much like her own but she has to stifle a choked laugh. She and George’s girlfriend have said these to both the twins and she feels a sense of accomplishment that she can’t explain. Almost like Fred thinking of her while he sets up his dating profile means something.

She hesitates a moment, debating between swiping left and never thinking about Fred and dating profiles ever again and swiping right just to see what happens. Y/N’s definitely making it a bigger issue than it has to be, which is why she doesn’t realise when George’s girlfriend and her roommate suddenly appears in her doorway holding chocolate.

“Em, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow?” She questions and the girl in the doorway shrugs, making her way into the room and sitting down without an invitation.

“I can vaguely hear you monologuing next door,” she laughs as she breaks a line of chocolate off the bar and hands it to Y/N. She groans, in her moment of panic she completely forgot about the fact it’s late and their bedroom walls are paper-thin. “All I heard was something about Fred and the word fuck. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” she winks and Y/N cringes, Em’s usual 15-year-old boy humour shining through as she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth.

“You’re hilarious,” Y/N says rolling her eyes but she can’t deny the fondness that’s there for her best friend. “No, you’re not interrupting anything, rather the opposite actually, look.” She passes her unlocked phone to Em and Y/N wishes she could have captured the shocked look on Em's face.

“Fred has a fucking active Tinder?” She’s quickly swiping through his profile and she hates to admit he has good pictures, but when she gets to his bio she snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s something you say, Y/N.”

Y/N feels her face go red at Em’s comment. She’s acknowledged this already but when someone else says it she feels like she isn’t being as far fetched as she’s convinced herself. While she outright refuses to acknowledge her feelings for Fred to anyone who isn’t herself, she knows Em knows without having to tell her. Call it best friend instinct, ‘dating-his-twin-brother’ instinct, whatever she pleases, which is why when there’s a mischievous glint in Em’s eyes, Y/N immediately is reaching for her phone. “No.”

Em whines, rolling onto her back. “Why not, you’re so boring!”

“I am not swiping right on Frederick fucking Weasley.” She feels her face becoming warmer as she says it. Em gives her a look as if to say ‘I believe you’ with a glint in her eye that makes Y/N know she doesn’t. “I’m just never going to open the app again!”

Em rolls her eyes but the fond smile on her face is unmistakable. “And do what, love?”

Y/N falters for a second before shrugging. “Not perceive his profile. It’ll be gone into the abyss of people who live in London and I’ll never think about it again.” She’s smiling, thinking she’s concocted the most perfect plan.

-----

It wasn’t the most perfect plan, for when Y/N is hanging out with Fred two days later she’s faced yet again with the ‘Tinder Predicament’ as dubbed by Em. Fred and Y/N are sitting in their favourite park, the new spring weather of London on their skin as they soak up the friendly sun rays after a harsh winter. Y/N is laying on her stomach, the book open but she’s barely reading as she pretends to listen to Fred ramble on about only God knows what.

It’s 11am, not too early for the park to be empty but busy enough that other people are turning up, mostly couples. Y/N tunes Fred out, quickly getting lost in her own thoughts. Do other people think we’re a couple? she thinks to herself. She knows if Em could read her mind she’d say yes and Y/N is quick to push the thought out of her mind.

Everything is interrupted when her phone lights up with a ‘You’ve got a new match!’ notification and before she can hide it from prying eyes, Fred’s wolf-whistling.

“You’ve got dating apps, do ya, Y/L/N?” he teases and Y/N wants the Earth to swallow her up, she can’t think of a worse situation to be in.

“Yeah, don’t you?” The second the words leave her mouth she regrets them. Fred’s smirking at her, a signature smirk of his he only does when she knows he’s up to something. Unfortunately for her, she is on the receiving end of that something.

“Something along the lines of ‘looking for a golden retriever boy?’. Ring any bells, darling?” Y/N feels her blood drain from her body and Fred releases a laugh that can only be described as a full-body chortle. “You know I have one, darling. Besides, you popped up last night. I already knew.”

Y/N groans. This shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it feels but it’s Fred and knowing Fred has seen her dating profile was low on her wishes for this week, or for her entire life for that matter.

“Did you at least swipe right on me?”

It’s said with a teasing manner, falling right out of Y/N’s mouth before she can stop it. Her curiosity always gets the best of her and she wants to kick herself for it. But she doesn’t even notice Fred’s slight falter, the red tint kissing his cheeks and emphasising the freckles across his face at the comment. “You’ll have to swipe right on me to find out.”

She can’t tell if he’s joking. But Fred is always joking. So she laughs and pushes him slightly, “If I come across your Tinder profile, I’m reporting it.”

“It would be a blessing from the universe for you to come across my dating profile. I’m sure you’d appreciate my bio.”

“Let me guess. ‘6’3 if it matters’?” Fred scowls looking down at her and she knows she looks way too proud for that comment but she doesn’t care and after a few seconds, Fred doesn’t care either. He starts to feel a small shred of jealousy from knowing Y/N has a Tinder profile, but he swallows it, tabling it for later when he isn’t with her.

“Why do you have the app?” He blurts out, annoyed at himself for letting it slip out. “Just… Curious, y’know?” He adds on when he notices Y/N looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t really want to know, but the words are out there and the cute scrunch of Y/N’s nose as she thinks of an answer almost makes it worth it.

“Male validation, mostly,” she laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck when she hears Fred laugh along with her. “I don’t know, Freddie.” She says, exasperatedly. “I barely use it. What about you?”

“Sex, if I’m honest.” Now it’s his turn to awkwardly laugh because he knows he answered that way too quickly and a little too honest for his own comfort. Y/N’s been his best friend for years, probably knows him best besides George but she didn’t really need to know he uses his Tinder profile to hook up with people.

When Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, Fred takes it badly. He knows she would never judge him, not about anything and especially not this, but his thoughts get the best of him and sometimes he can’t help it. He has no idea Y/N is in her own head, jealous other girls get to hold Fred at a distance closer than she ever will.

He clears his throat and checks his phone to see no notifications besides a direct message from Lee Jordan. He knows George isn’t expecting him home- cursing his brother when he remembers George demanded the flat to himself (and in turn, also Em) today for a few hours. “Hey, uh. I’ve gotta go. Emergency with George apparently.”

He knows he shouldn’t have lied, it’s not even a good lie but it was the first thing he thought of. He notices Y/N’s eyebrows furrow before she shrugs, nodding before closing her book. “That’s okay, I was getting tired anyway. I might pop back to my flat for a nap.”

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Fred asks and his chest feels warm when Y/N meets his face with a smile.

“Of course, Freddie.”

She watches Fred leave, her thoughts getting the best of her. She knows for a fact there is no ‘George emergency’- she knows George is with Em probably being sick and in love and she’s sure Fred knows this too. The realisation Fred made an excuse to not spend time with her hits her like a truck, her mind frantically searching for what she could’ve possibly done to upset her best friend.

“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, the second she realises.

-----

To: Em > if you come home tonight dont mind me being drunk x

Y/N sends the text as she stands in the kitchen, pouring herself her second glass of wine before it has even hit 6pm. On her way home, she stopped by the liquor store, picked up her favourite wine and decided to drink away the anxieties of upsetting Fred.

From: Em > ill be home. ill pick up chinese on the way. save me some wine!!! x

She smiles down at her phone, knowing Em would always be there without even realising it. She sits down on their couch and turns on the television- old reruns of early 2000s sitcoms playing on almost every channel.

It’s 20 minutes late when Em turns up. She’s nursing the Chinese food as if it��s a child as she tries to unlock the front door without dropping the food or her bottle of wine. She smiles proudly at Y/N the second she gets in, putting the food on the table before she grabs her own wine glass.

“What happened today?”

Y/N is caught off guard but she shouldn’t be shocked. She doesn’t usually drink and when she does, it’s very rarely without Em. “Nothing’s wrong!” she says, skulling the rest of her wine when Em gives her a knowing look.

“You were with Fred today and now you’re sad drinking. What happened?” Usually, she loves when Em is her all-knowing best friend, but right now she wishes she’d shut up.

“Nothing happened!” She’s adamant to not say too much. She knows it’s probably all in her head, that she and Fred will be fine in a few days but when Em gives her one more knowing look, she breaks. “Okay, fine. I think I upset him today.”

Em’s confused, to say the least. Fred, for as long as she has known him, has never been upset with Y/N- even on accident. She has the tall redhead wrapped around her finger. “How?” she questions, because she truly can’t think of a single thing that Y/N could do to hurt him.

Em places Y/N’s food in front of her when she starts speaking. “We were talking about Tinder- don’t give me that look he saw a notification and it came up and he asked why I had it. I said I don’t know and when I asked him, he said he uses it for sex,” Y/N says softly, pouring herself another glass of wine before continuing. “I didn’t say anything when he said that, because… Well… You know why.”

Em does know. She knew the second she became Y/N’s roommate their first year of University that she had feelings for Fred and she knew immediately Fred liked her too but Y/N’s never believed her. “You think he got upset you didn’t say anything about sex?”

“I think he thinks I was being judgemental.” Em sighs at Y/N’s response. She loves both her best friends- they’re her favourite people besides George but she knows they can be idiots. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the forks against their Chinese containers before Em grab’s Y/N’s phone, unlocking it.

“Well if Fred’s using Tinder for sex, so should you!” she says matter-of-factly and when Y/N groans from the kitchen sink, Em speaks again. “It’s true! He likes you but won’t tell you, you like him but won’t tell anyone! Who’s a good meaningless shag going to hurt?”

That’s how they end up in Em’s bed, cuddling under the duvet with ice cream and Y/N’s Tinder profile open on her phone. “You’re so fucking picky, holy shit,” Em says when Y/N scrunches her nose up at the sixth consecutive guy. “It’s a shag, not a hand in marriage, love.”

“They don’t do it for me!” Y/N is avoiding the elephant in the room- that she’s comparing every guy that pops up to Fred. “I have to be attracted to them for this meaningless shag you’re preaching about… See, he’s cute!” His name’s Cormac, he’s 21 so only a few years younger than Y/N and he’s not bad looking.

“He looks like a douchebag!” Em exclaims and Y/N groans.

“You told me to stop being picky!”

“Stop being picky doesn’t mean saying yes to the first conventionally attractive guy we see!” Em exclaims as she swipes left on poor Cormac. Y/N gets up to pour herself and Em one more glass of wine each and she hears Em starting giggling to herself when the new profile shows up, hiding the phone from Y/N’s eyes when she walks over. Without even questioning Y/N, Em swipes right and immediately she starts howling laughing.

‘New Match!’ the screen reads and Y/N feels her breath hitch when snatches the phone from Em’s hands and she sees who she matched with.

Fred, 24. 2km away.

“I remembered after dinner, you said he told you to swipe right to see what he did,” Em says proudly, and Y/N regrets even mentioning it to Em offhandedly. Y/N’s eyes are transfixed on the tiny screen. There’s no way he seriously swiped right, she’s sure it’s only a joke- people jokingly match with their friends all the time. “So here you go, Freddie swiped right on my lil Y/N/N.”

Y/N shakes her head at this. “I’m sure he only did it as a joke. People do that when they find their friends on Tinder all the time!” she says, sitting back down on the bed and cuddling up next to Em. “You were telling me to swipe right on him last night, after all.”

Em looks at Y/N and sighs, clearly sensing how uncomfortable Y/N is feeling right now from the confrontation of her feelings for Fred. “I was telling you to swipe right because I know you’re in love with him,” she says softly, not missing the way Y/N’s eyes soften at the mention of her feelings for Fred. “I’m sorry if I’d known-”

“Don’t apologise! I’m just going to ignore the fact we matched,” she says softly, unlocking her phone and immediately exiting from Fred’s profile. The tension from a few moments ago quickly dissipates as Y/N receives another match, this time from a boy named Neville who Y/N knows is friends with Fred’s little brother.

“When did you swipe on Nev?” Em asks and Y/N shrugs. She knows she probably did it to be funny, like what she thinks Fred’s done to her, but the more she thinks about it, Neville isn’t a bad match. He’s nice, friendly and now he’s in his twenties, he isn’t bad looking either.

“Nev’s sweet. If he asked me out I’d say yes.” She says. She isn’t lying- there’s been times she’s considered going on dates to avoid her feelings for Fred, to get over him once and for all but whenever it gets to that point, she chickens out. “I know you want a meaningless shag, but I think maybe a date would be a good idea. You know?”

Em nods, pulling Y/N closer to cuddle her and suddenly feeling bad about preaching for meaningless sex. “Maybe you’re more of a date before shagging kind of girl, and that’s okay.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

-----

Em’s fast asleep and Y/N’s overthinking next to her when she gets a message from a match. Y/N rolls her eyes when she sees the time reads 2am; knowing whoever's messaging at this time is just looking for a booty call but she opens the notification nonetheless.

From: Fred > i can be a golden retriever boy :)

She smiles at the message, Fred’s presence always does that to her. She never expected him to message her on tinder considering she’s convinced it was just a joke swipe right, but this is probably just a joking message too. She checks his bio is still the same Aries joke before quickly replying.

To: Fred > good thing im a big aries fan then ;) > how tall are you though? im sure youre well aware it matters

She hopes Fred laughs at her messages because making Fred laugh is her favourite pastime. The three dots signalling Fred’s typing pops up and her heart starts to race.

From: Fred

> im 7’5 if its that important :/

She giggles and when doesn’t know how to reply after that, she exits out of their messages, but it’s not like she has to keep a conversation with Fred going. She’s trying to think of a funny message to send Fred when she gets another message; this time from Neville.

From: Neville > hi Y/N! i hope this isnt a weird time to message you, i just finished grading some work. i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime this week? we were kind of friends at school, after all, and it’ll be nice to catch up :)

The message from Neville is sweet, and she almost feels guilty reading it. Attached is his number and everything and Y/N feels her throat closing up. She would feel terrible going on a date with Neville despite what she claimed earlier, knowing her heart currently belongs to Fred.

But Fred’s lack of interest in her is eating at her as much as her own feelings for him do, and she knows she deserves better than to sit around and wait for him any longer. If Em was awake the date would already be confirmed, she knows that much so she decides to say yes to Neville, to at least put herself out there. She can imagine the little Devil version of Em dancing on her shoulder as she begins to type out a reply to Neville.

She doesn’t even think to look at who it’s being sent to before clicking send. But by then it’s too late- she doesn’t even know how she ended up back in Fred’s messages but now she wants to roll up into a ball and die.

To: Fred > hi neville! id love to grab dinner one day, here’s my number and we can organise it tomorrow because im going to bed now! x

She’s staring at the message for so long she doesn’t even notice the ‘???’ she gets back from Fred. She quickly copies and pastes the message to the right recipient this time before plugging in her phone and rolling over to sleep.

Em’s slight snoring lulls her to sleep, thoughts of Fred filling her mind before she passes out for the night. What she doesn’t know is that while she falls asleep, Fred lays awake, staring at his ceiling. Contemplating the knowledge he has knowing Y/N’s potentially organising a date with one of his little brother’s best friends.

-----

Fred hates this feeling; this feeling of jealousy in his stomach that’s threatening to spill out of his throat. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about Y/N accidentally messaging him about a date with another person all morning and he knows George is getting annoyed with him.

“Why are you being such a prat this morning?” George had asked when Fred scowled at his brother for simply standing in the kitchen. Fred had huffed as a reply, grabbing the milk for his tea before sitting down at their table to munch on his toast.

“Not being a prat,” he says, words muffled by the food in his mouth and George gives him a disgusted look before taking a bite of his own toast. “Do you remember Neville Longbottom?”

George nods, of course, he knows Neville. “Ron’s friend? Super nice bloke. Think him and Hannah Abbott just broke up, why?”

Fred shrugs, he’s almost positive it’s the same Neville now. “Think Y/N’s going on a date with him, that’s all.” When George raises his eyebrows, Fred speaks again, “Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going on a date with a prat.”

“Wanted to know who she is going on a date with in general, more like it,” George mutters under his breath. He knows Fred better than he knows anybody, better than he knows his girlfriend and almost better than he knows himself. “You sure you’re not jealous?”

Fred squints at George. “Why would I be jealous?” Fred stands and makes his way to the kitchen to wash up his dishes and he almost drops them in the sink when George speaks again.

“Because you’re in love with Y/N?” He says it so casually Fred almost chokes on air. He’s never thought about himself and Y/N in that way. Sure they like to cuddle when they’re drunk and they spend every waking moment together but he’s not in love with Y/N.

Is he?

“What makes you say that?” Fred asks quietly, hoping to hide the red blush forming on his cheeks. George might be his best friend and twin brother but he knows he would never live it down admitting he has feelings for Y/N.

“You two are worse than Em and I, and we’re actually dating,” George speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When Em first met Y/N, she asked how long you and she had been together for, mate.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Fred says a little too quickly.

“I’m sure it doesn’t, Freddie,” George smirks as he speaks, getting up to wash his dishes now. Fred stands in the kitchen, nursing his cup of tea as he contemplates George’s words. Sure, he always knew he had some kind of feelings for his best friend, but being in love was another whole ordeal. It means wanting long term commitment, probably a house together, maybe marriage, perhaps kids if Y/N wanted them and the longer Fred sits with these in his mind, he quickly realises he does want all that and even more with Y/N. He’s probably wanted it with her for a while and he just hasn’t ever realised.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, low enough for George not to hear but when Fred doesn’t have a rebuttal to George’s words he knows he’s accidentally sent Fred into an existential crisis.

“Look, Fred. If Y/N going on a date bothers you, you need to tell her.” George knows he’s about to cross some lines that he promised himself he would never cross but it’s getting dire in his eyes. “Y/N likes you and deep down you know you like her too, even if you’re oblivious. She deserves to know and if you’re too much of a chicken to admit it to her, then you don’t get to be bothered about her going on a date with Neville Longbottom.”

Fred huffs. He knows George is right, but he can’t help but feel like he truly noticed too late. He swiped right on her on Tinder hoping she would swipe right back and they could go from there. But he knows Y/N only swiped right to see if he had done it first, that she only swiped right out of curiosity and right now, Fred is cursing the app under his breath.

“Well, fine, yes I like Y/N, but I can’t just stop her from going on a date. That’s controlling and mean.” Fred states and George just sighs. “I’ll talk to her after her date, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

George stares at him. “Since when are you mister Que sera, sera, Freddie?” Fred shrugs, not understanding the reference George made. “Since when are you just letting it happen?” George translates when he notices the blank stare on Fred’s face.

“Since right now. I don’t want to come off controlling to Y/N.” Fred says. In actuality, even though he knows George would never lie to him, he’s scared. Y/N is his best friend and the last thing he ever wants to do is ruin his closest friendship all because of some jealousy.

“Okay fine, but if she gets a boyfriend, I’m sorry mate,” George says and he knows putting the threat of losing Y/N romantically on the line is harsh, but it’s what he has to do. He’s watched the pair pine for each other for years and he’s sure this is the last straw.

“We’re going out with the lads in a few days, by the way! Maybe you can stop moping enough for a shag!” George calls out and Fred flips him the finger as he walks off to his bedroom.

-----

Y/N and Neville decide on getting dinner together three days later. It’s a Friday so neither of them has to worry about work or coursework the next day, which is perfect. Neville tells Y/N about his favourite Italian restaurant right near Old Street subway station in Shoreditch, so that’s where the pair decide to meet.

It’s rather busy when Y/N gets to the station. Neville has apologised profusely for still being fifteen minutes away but she reassures him it’s fine and that she’ll meet him outside the station so they can walk to the restaurant together.

Y/N’s on her phone, texting Em and telling her she’s safe when she feels a presence next to her. She tenses up quickly but she soon relaxes when she looks at the person next to her and realises it’s Fred.

“Hi,” she says, smiling. She hasn’t seen him since the day in the park, but they’ve texted and called so she’s sure everything is fine. “What are you doing all the way on this side of London?”

Fred smiles and shoves his hands in his jeans pocket before replying, “Grabbing a drink with the lads tonight, love. What about you?” His tone is casual and Y/N has to stop herself from checking him out. He’s dressed in a nice dress shirt, it’s orange and on anyone else, it would clash with his hair but Fred somehow manages to pull it off. He’s got a black jacket over the top of his shirt, alongside black jeans that show off his long and muscular legs on and his outfit is paired off with a pair of boots on his feet.

He’s not making it easy to get over him, that’s for sure.

“I’ve got a date,” she’s shy when she says it, looking away from Fred and then back down at her phone. The time reads 6:47pm and Neville’s train will be getting in any second now. She’s trying to get over Fred and the last thing she needs is Fred lingering when said date turns up.

“Ah yes, with Neville, if I remember correctly,” Fred’s teasing and Y/N has to force a laugh out. She blocked out the fact she’d accidentally messaged him instead of Neville and was hoping he would forget as well. But this is Fred she was talking about, and Fred never lets up a chance to tease Y/N for something.

“Yeah, Neville Longbottom,” she says and she catches the look of recognition that flashes across Fred’s face. “He was friends with your brother in school.”

Fred nods in acknowledgement while he can’t decide whether or not he’s happy with the confirmation that he was right. He’s sad and jealous, that much is obvious, but he’s a little happy. Happy that even though Y/N is going on a date with someone who isn’t himself, it’s someone he knows would treat her like she deserves.

“Neville’s a good guy, I’m happy for you,” he forces out and Y/N smiles up at Fred and he wants to sink into the Earth. The smile on her face is one he wants to be the cause for forever. “I should get going, tell Nev hello for me!”

He pulls Y/N into a quick hug, presses a quick kiss absentmindedly on the top of her head before letting her go and crossing the street and making his way to the bar he’s meeting Lee, George, Harry and Ron at.

Y/N watches him leave, dumbfounded. The kiss on the top of her head is nothing less than usual; Fred’s always been touchy with her but now it feels weird. All she wants is to call out to Fred and demand the redhead take her on a date instead.

But before Y/N can do anything drastic, she hears Neville call out her name and she turns around quickly. He’s just as sweet and cute as she remembers and even if she wishes Fred was the boy she was on a date with, Neville is someone she would be friends with above anything.

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long!” He says when he reaches her, kissing her cheek as Y/N pulls him into a hug. His presence is comforting and he smells like cinnamon and Y/N feels herself instantly relax.

“Not too long!” She replies as she begins walking towards the restaurant with Neville. During Spring, the cold weather still returns at night so their hands are shoved inside their jacket pockets to keep warm but they’re walking closely together. “I ran into Fred just before, so he kept me company.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Neville says as he grabs the door to the restaurant, “can’t have a pretty girl waiting outside a subway station alone.” Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at his comment.

They’re quickly seated and wine is ordered. They’ve been placed in a booth right near the window, where they’re able to watch the City of London go by. “How’s teaching going?” Y/N asks when she remembers Neville recently graduated and got an immediate job offer at the Agriculture department at a college in Surrey.

“It’s going well! I specifically teach the floriculture courses so I love it, of course,” Neville’s smile couldn’t get any wider. Y/N specifically remembers his constant fascination with plants and flowers in school and she couldn’t be happier for him to be doing what he so clearly loves, “What about you?”

“Being hammered by my postgrad coursework,” she says, laughing and taking a sip of her wine. “My job at the bookstore near my flat doesn’t suck but I definitely don’t work as much as I used to, unfortunately.” Neville raises his glass, almost to say I’ll drink to that when the waiter comes over to take their order.

Dinner goes quickly, conversation flows easily between the two and soon enough the bill arrives and Neville grabs the cheque before Y/N can even say anything. “You can grab it next time.”

Y/N falters at this. She knows she should say something to Neville; that this has been nice but there won’t be a second date. She’s too caught up in her panic and she’s beginning to curse Fred Weasley under her breath when Neville gently places his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the restaurant.

“Are you okay?” Neville asks when they get outside. He noticed the tensed look on Y/N’s face the second they got outside and when she nods and sighs he takes it as a sign to stop walking.

“This has been nice, Nev,” she starts and she feels terrible even though she knows it’s better, to be honest. “But I don’t think I’m-”

“Ready for a relationship?” Neville finishes for her, and he’s not condescending when he says it. He could tell even before dinner was finished that she probably felt that way and he doesn’t mind. “I don’t think I am either. But this was fun, was it not?”

Y/N nods, smiling as the anxieties of hurting Neville wash away. “It was fun!” she says, “I hope we can do it again. Even as friends?”

He nods back, a warm smile gracing his cheeks. “Of course.”

They walk back to the station together, promises of seeing each other again soon leaves their mouths as they walk to their respective platforms.

From: Neville > thanks for tonight. i forgot to mention, please tell me when you’re home safe!

She smiles down at the text, shooting Neville a reply of reassurance that she will before opening her messages with Em to let her know she’s on her way home. She’s jumping through her apps, Snapchat that she only uses for filters, Facebook she only uses to check the ‘Dogspotting’ group until she lands on Instagram.

She sees a story from George and when she opens it, she immediately regrets it. It’s their friendship group, that much she expected but she sees a girl sitting next to Fred nursing what looks like a Gin and Tonic and Y/N feels sick.

She immediately closes the app, pretending she didn’t see it. She has no right to be upset over this but it plagues her thoughts for the entire subway trip home.

That’s when she decides she’s going to demand answers from Fred. She doesn’t know how, or when or if she’ll even do it without Em forcing her to, but she knows she deserves better. That she doesn’t deserve to hang on the end of every touch, every word of Fred’s in hopes he’ll hold her closer than arm's length while she desperately wants more.

-----

The next night, Fred’s laying on his couch in an uncomfortable position searching Netflix at 10pm when he hears a knock at the front door. He knows it isn’t George, or any member of his family for that matter and any normal person would ring before coming over this late at night. So when Fred gets up and looks through his peephole to ensure he’s not about to be murdered, he’s shocked to see an angry-looking Y/N.

He opens the door and she’s immediately inside, pushing past Fred’s body and when she turns around, she has the most determined look on her face he’s ever seen.

“I’m annoyed at you.” Fred’s taken aback, he tries to think back at their interaction the evening before, trying to piece together anything that would annoy Y/N but he’s coming up blank.

“What did I do?” He wearily asks and when Y/N purses her lips together and looks like she’s about to cry Fred has to resist the urge to apologise without knowing what he needs to apologise for.

“I’m annoyed at you because,” she pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I’m annoyed because I went on a date last night. I went on a date with the loveliest man I’ve ever met. And I spent the whole fucking time wishing I was on a date with you. And I’ve spent all of today debating coming over here and telling you that so I drank half of Em’s bottle of wine for some liquid courage and here I fucking am!”

That’s the last thing Fred was expecting to come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Well, that’s not-”

“I’m not finished.” She stares at Fred and he immediately shuts up.

“I’ve been in love with you for years and it’s not fair on me anymore, Freddie.” Her voice is shaking like she needs to get everything out as soon as possible. “I need to know if you feel anything for me, even in the slightest, because if I need to move on, I’m begging you to be honest with me.”

Fred feels his heartbreak at how sweet, how broken, how defeated Y/N looked standing in front of him right now. He can see the need for an honest answer swimming in Y/N’s eyes and he’s never felt braver to admit his feelings than he does right now.

“I’m an idiot,” Y/N scoffs but lets him continue, “because I didn’t realise how fucking in love with you I am until I almost lost you. I thought…” he pauses, looking for the right words and when his eyes meet Y/N’s, there’s a softness there that wasn’t there previously. “I thought what we had was normal; the cuddling, the constant need to be with each other, the constant subtle touches. But George knocked some sense into me.” Y/N lets out a breath as she laughs, of course, it was George’s doing.

“I’m in love with you, and I think I have been since we were 17. So I’m so fucking sorry, for ever letting you think you meant any less to me, my love.”

Y/N’s eyes are overflowing with tears at his words and Fred panics for a second before he sees the biggest and most loving smile overtake Y/N’s face. “Fucking hell, you big dummy.”

She crosses the room, quicker than she’s ever moved before and pulls Fred’s 6’3 frame into her arms. She feels Fred pull her away, only slightly, so he can look down into her eyes and cup her cheek with his hand. His thumb is providing comfort as it strokes across her cheek and wiping away any stray tears.

She cups the outside of his hand with her own and brings her face to the side to kiss his palm. This is the closest the two have ever been and both their hearts feel like they could beat out of their chests at any moment. It’s the adrenaline from this moment that causes Fred to blurt out his next question, without any hesitation.

“Can I please kiss you before I die?”

Y/N laughs as she looks up at Fred. She doesn’t even give him an answer, she just pulls the tall boy down before locking their lips together. They’ve both kissed plenty of people, had many first kisses whether it be with first dates or partners but they can both agree this is the best kiss either of them has ever experienced.

Y/N is pouring everything she can into the kiss, knowing she will never get tired of the taste of caramel that she will forever associate with kissing the love of her life. She presses her lips harder against his, her tongue running along Fred’s chapped lips asking for more before he opens his mouth to massage his tongue with hers.

Fred decides to be a tease, pulling back slightly before capturing her lips again and biting her bottom lip slightly. This action pulls a moan from Y/N’s throat, soft enough that Fred almost misses it but he can’t help but smirk into the kiss. He wants nothing more than to kiss Y/N for the rest of his life, but eventually, he has to pull away to catch his breath and the whine that leaves Y/N’s mouth might be the cutest sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“I hope to God you know I’m never letting you kiss anyone else ever again, holy shit,” she says, cheeks flushed red and when she looks at Fred she thinks she’s fallen even further in love with him. His hair’s messy, thanks to her running her hands through it and his lips are slightly swollen. She thinks this might be the most beautiful she’s ever seen Fred in her life and if this is how gorgeous he looks after a few minutes of kissing, she’s secretly anticipating how gorgeous he’s going to look laying in her bed, naked.

Fred smiles dopily down at her, “Don’t worry darling, I never want to be with someone who isn’t you ever again.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fae writes

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snelbz · 3 years ago

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Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2807

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Poseidon

– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves

Aelin had moved past hurt.

Now, she was just pissed.

It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.

Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.

“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”

Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”

Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.

“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”

“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”

“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”

“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.

Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.

“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”

Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”

Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”

Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.

Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”

“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.

She was still on glass #1.

Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.

“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”

“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.

“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”

“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.

Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”

“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.

“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”

Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.

“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”

Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”

“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”

Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.

Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”

Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”

Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”

She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”

Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”

“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.

Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.

All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.

A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.

“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”

“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”

Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.

After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”

“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”

Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”

Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.

“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”

“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”

Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”

Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”

“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”

“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.

Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”

Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.

It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.

And when he did, he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”

“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.

Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.

“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”

Rowan continued to drink.

“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”

Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”

Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”

Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.

Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”

Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”

Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.

He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.

Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.

“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.

Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”

He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.

Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.

“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”

Rowan knew he was right.

Of course, he was right.

And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.

He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.

“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.

Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.

Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.

Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.

She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.

When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.

The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.

She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.

When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.

And found who had been watching her during her workout.

Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.

Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.

“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”

She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.

“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”

She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”

Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”

She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”

Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.

She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.

Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.

Even if she wanted there to be.

#snacmc ttf #tempting the fates #rowaelin ttf #snacmc collab #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius

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tennessoui · 3 years ago

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hi all of your aus are amazing! pls what happens with divorced!obiwan and the twins?

hey!! sorry this took so long i had to think of an appropriate cliffhanger

this is a continuation of this ficlet and this ficlet, where divorced!obi-wan accidentally acquires a partner and a set of twins.

(2k WHOOPS)

The twins are not, and probably have never been described by anyone except their father, angels. They take to Obi-Wan as well as Obi-Wan takes to them, which is to say that all three of them watch each other suspiciously until one day Luke launches himself off the top of the fridge--how the fuck did he manage to get up there--and Obi-Wan drops his morning toast in a frantic bid to catch him.

After that, Leia and Luke apparently decide he is Another Anakin Who Is Just Around A Lot Less But Is Better At Reading Bedtime Stories and deign to treat him as such.

Obi-Wan decides that he’s going to have a heart attack by the age of fifty. Do all children see a childproof house as a challenge?

It somehow takes both a longer and shorter time to win over Anakin’s favor, mostly because Obi-Wan isn’t sure what the man’s thinking at any given moment. He seems to blow hot and cold depending on how he woke up or how the work day goes. Some days, Obi-Wan comes home from campus and Anakin and the twins have waited to eat until he’s there. Sometimes they’ve eaten and there’s a meal under foil on the stove just for Obi-Wan.

(“I don’t know how you do it,” Obi-Wan tells him one night after the children are put to bed. “I mean, work from home with your job, mind the children, and cook?”

“They made me head of the R&D department a few months ago,” Anakin admits, taking a sip of his second glass of wine. “So I’m doing a lot more checking through other people’s work instead of making my own. It just means I can do that and make something edible--no, really, you just can’t cook, Obi-Wan, I’m not the best either.”

“Do you miss getting to make something other than food?” Obi-Wan asks eventually, giving himself enough time to recover from the sound of the other’s giggles.

Anakin shrugs languidly. “It’s better salary, and I’m the youngest ever in the company to have the position. Means I’ll pay off my student loans quicker, same with my mom’s hospital bills. Doesn’t matter what I want.”

Obi-Wan’s chest hurts and he wants to lean across the gap between their chairs and place his hand on Anakin’s arm, but they don’t know each other like that. It’s only been a month and a half since they moved in. Still. “It always matters what you want,” he insists. “And I think you’re amazing.”

Anakin blushes bright scarlet and takes a huge gulp of wine, and Obi-Wan wonders if this is a throwing-yourself-off-the-fridge break through.)

(It’s not because the next day, Anakin doesn’t say a single word to him, which bothers him more than he’d like to admit.)

(“Am I in the wrong for wanting to get along with my housemate?” Obi-Wan asks Quinlan despairingly during their office hours that he should be using to grade papers. Instead all he can think about is Anakin Skywalker and the goddamn cold shoulder he’s been getting from the man for the past three days.

“Yeah,” Quin says absentmindedly, marking something with a red pen before looking up at Obi-Wan’s outraged intake of breath. “I mean, no. I mean, sorry, Obi, what are we even talking about now? Is it still your hot new roommate with the two kids? Because that’s what we were talking about an hour and a half ago.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “I’m just not sure I appreciate--”

“And you said he’s not been hanging around in the living room when you get home? But he’s still leaving you meals in the kitchen? And you’re upset about the free food?”

Obi-Wan is upset at the lack of Anakin’s presence, but he thinks that’s probably not the right thing to say here.

“Maybe he’s just tired?” Quinlan puts down his pen and rests his chin on one of his hands as he looks at Obi-Wan. “From the kids and the job and putting up with your moody ass. C’mon, Obi, what’s really getting you worked up?”

Obi-Wan purses his lips and stares at the desk in front of him, but he had come to Quinlan for help. He should at least be honest about what’s eating at him, even though he knows how silly it will sound when given a voice. “...Satine always waited up for me,” he mutters. “Until she didn’t.”

Quinlan’s quiet for a worryingly large amount of seconds, before he reaches out to pat Obi-Wan gently on the arm. “Oh, Obi,” he says pityingly. “Repeat after me. You cannot make your new roommate your rebound from your thirty year marriage.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. That’s not the problem at all. “That’s not the problem at all,” he says, not defensively in the slightest. “I think I’m just worried about the children not having enough structure in their lives.”

“Right,” Quinlan says, not quite managing to hide the skepticism in his voice. “Then you should talk to him. For the sake of the children.”

Obi-Wan will absolutely not be doing that, but it’s a nice thought.)

The real turning point in Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship happens five months after the Skywalkers move in.

Anakin and Obi-Wan are in the living room. Anakin is trying to braid Leia’s hair while Obi-Wan tries to pretend he isn’t watching. From the kitchen, there’s a very, very loud crash and the sound of something shattering.

Both adults leap up from their seats immediately and run to the other room.

Luke is standing in the epi-center of disaster, little face scrunched up like he doesn’t know whether or not to cry. At the sight of his dad and Obi-Wan, he starts to wail, moving forward and reaching for Anakin.

Obi-Wan, who is wearing shoes inside the house (a point of contention between himself and Anakin), grabs Luke roughly and picks him up by the armpits before he can cut his feet on the glass. He hands him over to Anakin to soothe, stepping further into the kitchen to find the dustpan he keeps in one of the pantries.

It’s very obvious what broke, though Obi-Wan can’t for the life of him understand how Luke got ahold of Satine’s heavy cake stand. He can definitely understand how Luke dropped it, as the thing was ridiculously heavy.

It had been one of the only things left in the house that had been Satine’s. She’d left it, and Obi-Wan had been too bitter or petty to point it out to her. Yes, it had been her mother’s. No, keeping it had not made him feel any better. But it’s not like Satine ever baked anything anyway.

Good for Luke, actually, for doing what Obi-Wan never could bring himself to do.

He grabs the broom and dustpan and marches back to the pieces of shattered glass. Anakin has placed Luke on the counter, ostensibly to check to make sure his feet are fine if the boy would ever let go of his father’s neck. Leia is peering around at the mess on the floor.

When Obi-Wan comes back and starts sweeping everything away, she darts forward to pick up a rather sizeable chunk.

“Don’t touch that,” Obi-Wan says sharply, much harsher than he intended. Leia drops it instantly and scurries back to her father, eyes wide and sort of watery. Oh, fuck.

“Hey,” Anakin snaps immediately. “She’s just trying to help and Luke didn’t mean to break--whatever that is.”

Obi-Wan holds up his hand to cut Anakin off. “I’m not mad,” he promises all three of the Skywalkers. And he’s not even lying. He’s really not mad, hasn’t even thought to be mad at this last piece of proof of his relationship with Satine shattering on his kitchen floor. “I just don’t want either of you to cut yourself. Glass like this can be very dangerous and none of you are wearing shoes.”

“Promise?” Luke asks, untucking his red face from Anakin’s neck so he can peer up at Obi-Wan.

“I’m sorry I was a bit rough,” Obi-Wan apologizes, coming over and bending down a bit so he’s on the same level as Luke. “I was just worried about you. Promise.”

Luke sniffles but lets go of Anakin to throw himself at Obi-Wan, apologizing all the way.

“Hush,” Obi-Wan says as Leia scrambles up his leg, vying for his attention. With his hands full of children that aren’t his, he raises his head to look at Anakin who’s watching them with a very strange expression on his face. He tilts his head toward the broom and then down to the kids in his arms. “Come along,” he tells them both. “Leia, I’ll finish your braids if you’d like.”

“Braid my hair too!” Luke demands with a pull on Obi-Wan’s shirt.

Luke’s hair is floppy but awfully short. “I’m sure we can figure something out,” Obi-Wan says generously, leaving the kitchen.

“I suppose I’ll just clean this up then?” Anakin calls sarcastically behind them.

“Thank you, darling,” Obi-Wan responds.

There’s the sound of something else breaking, but it’s not Obi-Wan’s problem at the moment.

(A year later, Anakin mentions something over morning coffee about looking for a new apartment, now that he’s got everything straightened out. “We’ll get out of your hair,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ll look today since it’s my day off.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to examine why that idea makes something curl tightly in his stomach, making him feel vaguely nauseous, but it does. On his way out of the house, he unplugs the router, and then after a second of thought, takes it with him just in case.)

(Quinlan laughs his head off when Obi-Wan sheepishly puts the router down on the desk in front of him. “It’s a bad market right now,” Obi-Wan says defensively. “I’m just looking out for him.”

“Obi, I mean this in the best way possible, but there are at least four professors in the psych department that would probably love to do a case study on you.”)

(Two years after the Skywalkers move in, Obi-Wan is running late for a meeting with the head of his department. The man is stepping down, finally retiring, and Obi-Wan thinks that perhaps he’ll be tapped as the new head. It would mean dropping some of his classes, but it would be worth it.

“I made you a breakfast wrap,” Anakin greets him at the door, holding out a paper bag. “It’s got that salsa you like in it.”

The salsa Obi-Wan likes is the mild version of what Anakin and the kids eat, but Anakin treats it as if it’s from another planet entirely.

“Good luck!” he says with a sweet smile, also passing Obi-Wan a travel mug of what’s hopefully fully caffeinated tea. Obviously Obi-Wan needs it. He got perhaps two full hours of sleep last night, tossing and turning and thinking about this meeting and now he’s running late and his tie is crooked and none of his favorite sweater vests were clean.

“Thank you, dear one,” Obi-Wan mumbles, mind somewhere else. If traffic isn’t too bad, he could still be on time.

“Text me how it goes!” Anakin chirps, following Obi-Wan out the door to stand on the front porch with his arms crossed in an attempt to fight off the early winter chill.

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan replies, turning around to brush an absent-minded kiss to Anakin’s lips before hurrying to his car. It’s a twenty minute commute. If he gets his preferred parking spot and runs to the department building, he won’t be late at all.

Is that too much to hope for?

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, looking back in the rearview mirror to see Anakin standing frozen on the porch. That’s strange, usually the other man can’t stand being out in the cold.

Obi-Wan gets to the first stop-sign out of the neighborhood before he realizes what he’s done. It’s lucky that he’s already slowing down, because he slams on the brakes. Did he--

Did he kiss Anakin? Did he really kiss Anakin as if he does it all the time? As if they were in a relationship?

Oh shit.

Frantically, he pulls out his cellphone from his bag and checks to see if he has any new messages. He doesn’t.

Oh. Shit.

#asks #one more ficlet in this universe and i will have No Choice but to piece them together somehow on ao3 #there was supposed to be a bit where one of his students is like 'oh i didnt know you were a father!'#and obi-wan is like 'im not a father'#and then he plugs in his laptop to pull up the powerpoitn for the day #and his background is a picture of luke and leia #not even doing anything theyre just sleeping peacefully in his favorite armchair hugging the same book #anakin had sent it to him #with the text that they were taking turns playing Obi-Wan and Student #but the game was so boring they fell asleep #KUWSK

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doubleleoenergy · 3 years ago

Text

i. Summer Bummer, Lolita Series

She just might become my lover for real. I might fuck with her all summer for real. They better not holla if I cuff her for real.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of erection, lewd thoughts, drinking

Words: 2168

Summary: Andy meets Jacob friends for the first time, including y/n.

“Dad, we’re here!” Jacob cried out, opening the front door to his familiar family home.

Jacob Barber had just finished his Junior year at Columbia University and had just finished packing up his things in his apartment before driving back home. His parents had just finalized their divorce over the Christmas Break, and frankly, Jacob was relieved. His father, Andy Barber, seemed to be doing great, much happier without Laurie in his life. Maybe that was why he had agreed to let Jacob and his roommates from Columbia stay in their home for the entire summer leading up to their final year of undergrad.

“I’ll be right down, just changing a lightbulb in the bathroom.” Andy called out from upstairs, finishing his work quickly and disposing of the broken bulb in the bathroom trash can. He took his time down the stairs, smiling widely as he saw Jacob and his friends standing in the kitchen. “Good to have you home, son.” Andy announced, embracing Jacob in a warm embrace. He wasn’t lying at all, yes, he was fine after the divorce, but he did miss having his son at home playing video games or listening to his music too loud. Once Andy let go, he eyed the two other boys behind him, patting Jacob on his shoulder.

“You boys must be Jacob’s roommates, right?” He questioned.

“Yes, sorry dad, this is Rashad and Collin.” Jacob motioned to each of them, watching as his father shook each of their hands. “It’s nice to meet you all, and please, call me Andy. Only my clients call me Mr. Barber.” Andy took a step back, reaching into the fridge to grab a few Coors Light bottles, handing one to each of the boys before turning his attention back to Jacob.

“I thought you said there was another roommate coming, right? The one who you begged me to let intern at my office during the summer?” Andy asked, raising an eyebrow at his son.

Jacob took a swig off his beer bottle, nodding his head. “Yeah, y/n said she’d be here soon, she was just finishing up with a friend for brunch and then she was heading over.” Jacob, Rashad, Collin, and Y/N had been roommates this year in a quaint little apartment about five minutes from Columbia’s main campus. Andy had been to the apartment once to meet up with Jacob for dinner in the Fall during one of his many fights with Laurie, though Jacob’s roommates had all been out that day.

“Alright, well why don’t you boys make yourselves at home, take your pick of any of the guest rooms upstairs and let me know if you need anything. I was thinking of firing up the grill, it’s such a beautiful day out and the swimming pool contractors just finished with the new pool out back.” Andy opens the doors of the fridge again, pulling out the hamburger meat as the three men race up the stairs to look at the rooms they’d be occupying for the next few months. “Sure dad, thanks!” Jacob calls back, giving his father a short wave of his hand.

About an hour later the boys had all settled into the Barber’s backyard, speakers against the home blaring the hottest songs of the summer. Andy and the boys stood around the grill, exchanging stories of their latest semester and giving Andy a chance to get to know Rashad and Collin better. He was quite impressed with the type of people Jacob had chosen to associate himself with. Rashad was an engineering major like Jacob while Collin was studying chemistry.

After the boys finished laughing about Collin and Jacob’s double date gone terribly wrong, Jacob’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen with a smile. “Y/N’s pulling in, I’m going to go help her with her bags.” The other boys stayed next to Andy, watching as he flipped the last set of burgers on the grill.

“She’s gotta look heavenly in a bikini, right bro?” Rashad asks Collin, nudging him playfully in the side.

“You got a thing for y/n? Because I don’t think it’d be too appropriate to get with someone you are living the entire summer with, especially under my roof.” Andy objected, removing the burgers off the grill and onto the plate beside him.

Both Rashad and Collin burst out laughing, taking swigs from their beer bottles as they do. “Nah, Andy. Y/N’s a smoke show don’t get me wrong, but we can look but don’t touch. She’s not a relationship type of woman anyhow.” Rashad teased.

Just as the two boys finished their snickering, Jacob opens the screen door, the two immediately jogging up to give y/n a hug.

“What, you boys miss me that much after being apart for only a day?” She teased, Collin finally releasing her from his death grip. Jacob pulls y/n out into the yard, stopping right in front of the grill where Andy was turning off the burners.

“Dad, this is y/n.” He gestures towards the woman beside him just as y/n sticks out a hand for Andy to shake.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Barber, I’ve heard so much about you.” Andy finally turns his head in the direction of her voice, his eyes locking on hers as his heart skips a beat in his chest.

“It’s nice to meet you too, and please, call me Andy.” He reaches forward to shake her hand, taking in the whole sight of her. Her hair hung in loosely tousled waves down her back, stopping just above her breasts that were jutting out of her black lace bodysuit, which clung tightly to her hourglass figure and was tucked into her jean shorts that barely seemed to cover her ass. Her lips were plump and juicy, the color of a glass of fruit punch, a dotting of light freckles across her cheeks. Her eyes were striking, she wore no mascara, yet her lashes were thick and long. She was breathtakingly beautiful, a ‘smoke show’ as Rashad had said, indeed.

Y/N watched how Andy’s eyes engulfed her body, tilting her head to one side as she pretended not to notice. “Well Andy, thank you again for letting us all stay with you this summer, and thank you for the internship. I would rather work a paid internship than work with these boys anywhere.” She teased, ruffling Jacob’s hair.

“It’s no trouble at all, our office could use a good intern for the summer.” He agreed, eyes lingering a little too long on her perky breasts again.

“Maybe we can carpool to work, I’m all about environmentalism.” Her words are flirtatiously drifting off her tongue, a seductive smile spreading across her lips. Was Andy imagining this?

“R-right, yeah sounds good.” He moves to grab the plate of burgers by the grill, gesturing to the house. “Boys, please bring out the salad, condiments, and tableware from the counter and come set the table. Oh, and get y/n a beer.”

Andy moves to the patio table and sets down the plate of burgers, watching y/n as she slowly sinks into the chair next to him. He catches a whiff of her perfume, a heavenly mix of oranges, vanilla, and sandalwood wafting through his nostrils. It’s the perfect scent for her, he thought, moving to sit at the far end of the table.

The boys come back with all the supplies for dinner, including y/n’s beer, which she is already nursing happily from. Andy’s eyes focus on how her lips wrap around the top of the glass bottle, clearing his throat as if to rid himself of his dirty thoughts.

“So, y/n, what made you want to intern in my office?” He questioned, assembling a burger onto his plate. Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, carefully putting a helping of salad onto her own plate before assembling the rest of her meal.

“I’m completing my undergraduate degree and then hopefully getting admitted to law school to become an attorney. I figured interning in a real office would be a great first step.” She stuck her fork into the salad, opening her mouth to take in the bite.

“So, what are you getting your undergrad in?”

“My major is human rights with a minor in economics.” Her eyes met Jacob’s, a smile spreading on her face. “That’s how I actually found out Jake-y here was looking for another roommate. We had microeconomics together. Then I got introduced to these two losers-“ She teased, motioning to the other two guys at the table who feigned hurt expressions. “-and the rest is history.” The boys next to her were all chowing down as usual as if they hadn’t been fed in days.

As they take the time to finish eating, y/n lets the boys do most of the talking. She’s not a huge sharer when she first meets people, and frankly she’s glad to have the guys around to keep her entertained all summer. The dinner is spent catching way-too-long glances from Andy, his eyes lingering on hers for a bit too long here and there. There’s something about him that intrigues her, maybe it’s because he’s not a boy but a man, or maybe it’s just her usual game of cat and mouse, men usually fell to putty at her feet and she assumed he’d be the same.

“That was great dad, thank you.” Jacob says, finishing his third burger of the night. “Anyone up for a late-night swim?” He asked, standing up from the table and picking up a few of the items from it to take them inside. Rashad and Collin follow suit, with y/n trailing behind.

“Sounds good.” Rashad replies, going over to set his plate in the sink before bounding up the stairs. Andy walks back in as the four head upstairs to change, turning on the sink and rinsing off the dishes before setting them in the drying rack on the counter.

Shortly after finishing washing his third plate, he hears the boys running down the stairs, pushing each other to see who can do a cannonball in the pool first. Andy can’t help but chuckle to himself at their energy, it truly was nice to have noise in the house again.

“Can I help you, Mr. Barber?” Andy turns his head to the soft voice behind him, his cock twitching in his jeans. She’s standing in front of him in the tiniest floral bikini he’s even seen on a woman, the bottoms barely covering her slit and leaving nothing to the imagination of her ass.

“It’s Andy.” He chokes out, licking his lips before turning his attention back to the sink. Y/N sashays over to his side, grabbing the clean towel off the counter and starting to dry the dishes as Andy sets them into the rack.

“Right, I’m sorry, Andy.” Her eyes trail over his figure as she speaks, he can feel her eyes on him, and he shifts his weight as he stands to make sure his cock couldn’t be seen through the fabric of his jeans. “Thank you again for letting us all stay here; I was hoping not to have to deal with another summer bummer.” Her thin fingers set each dry dish carefully atop the other, Andy’s eyes glancing over one last time before he turns off the water, drying his hands on a clean towel.

He clears his throat. “Of course, any friend of Jacob’s is a friend of mine.” Suddenly, as if his ears are burning, Jacob opens the screen door sopping wet.

“You coming y/n?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah, I was just helping your dad clean up.”

Andy shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide the erection in his pants. “Hey kiddo, I’m going to bed, you guys have fun tonight.” He turns to walk down the hallway of the first floor to his bedroom, hearing y/n’s soft voice echoing out to him.

“Goodnight Andy.” She purred, Jacob finally picking her up over his shoulder and carrying her out to the pool area, her cries of protest lingering as he shut the screen door behind them.

Once locked away in his room Andy let out a sigh, undoing his jeans and letting his cock spring free from his underwear. He couldn’t believe the way he was getting hard for his son’s best friend, he hadn’t even had a chance to think of another woman since the divorce, but y/n just had this sickeningly sweet seduction about her, he knew it matched a certain name.

“Lolita.” He murmured, and though she wasn’t a 12-year old girl from the novel, because ew, he did seem to have some sinful obsession with her after having just met. Is this love or lust or some game on repeat? Andy didn’t know, but one thing was for sure, he was definitely about to jerk off to sexual thoughts of her in that bikini.

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf @my-divine-death @saamwilsonn @fierylibraa @fuckandfluff @rattlemyb0nes @rootcrop @goldenboysteve @turtoix @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @ccmarvelxx

#doubleleoenergyseries: lolita #DLE Series: Lolita #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader

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wisewidow · 4 years ago

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Hello, Your Parents Want Me To Have Your Babies

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

SUMMARY: Melina, my workplace’s neighbour, wants to set me up with her daughter.

I'd only ever hear about Natasha every couple of weeks, when her adoptive father, the mechanic that owned the garage workshop beside my father's cafe slash bar, met up with my uncle for beers one day last year. Ever since then, our families have been loosely intertwined, friendly but not too close. Alexei fixed my mom's wrecked car for a cheap price, in return I let his youngest daughter Yelena have free coffees whenever she pops over.

From what my father told me, Alexei's entire family, including his wife, were all involved in the family business of repairing cars, except for his eldest daughter: Natasha, who turned out to be an FBI agent living in Quantico. Dad says they're proud of her but they miss her.

"(Y/N)," my brother calls from the kitchen. I put down my phone and find him balancing three plates of sandwiches and a salad in his spindly arms.

He opens his mouth to explain the orders, but I cut him off.

"Alexei," I say, pointing to the bacon and egg sandwich. "A salad for Melina. The tuna and tomato roll is Yelena's. Did they want drinks?"

Peter nods. "Four coffees and a large bottle of water, they already have them."

I ruffle his hair to thank him and grab the plates, balancing the third on my forearm until I can place it on a tray. I carry it outside, years of waitressing practice keeping it balanced, and head towards the garage.

"Melina?" I call. Moments later the raven haired woman slips out of the office and smiles. She yells something in Russian that causes Yelena to slide out from under a silver BMW, covered in black grease. Alexei appears moments later wielding a spanner.

They hound me for their orders, gratefully patting my shoulder and carrying their food away to their separate stations. Yelena disappears into the shadows with her sandwich, and her father to his desk, but Melina simply brightens and says, "(Y/N), have you heard? Natalia is visiting."

"Yes!" Alexei yells around a mouthful of bread. "Family, reunion! Grandbabies!"

Melina hisses something in their mother tongue. I laugh, and then ask if Natasha was bringing her kids, though I wasn't aware she had any.

"He means nothing of it, Natalia is focused on work at the moment. Too focused, I think. No babies. No partner."

"Tell her about her penthouse!" Alexei encourages.

Melina flaps a hand at him in irritation. "Yes, well, she has broken up with Bruce, the shy scientist from work. And then Sharon, charming field operative, also from work. And now she refuses to date. Because of work."

I chuckle nervously. "Where are you going with this?"

Melina smiles innocently. "Nowhere. What happened to your last girlfriend, again? Your father mentioned something about . . ." The look in her eyes is enough to egg me on, though the subject is one I rarely speak of these days.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I say, "Carol left to travel Europe."

"Shame," she nods sympathetically. "You don't seem bothered. Are you not looking for a relationship?"

"Not actively, but I'm sure another troublemaker will find me. I don't have a good track record of steady relationships," I admit.

"Neither does Natalia!" Alexei shouts.

"Oh!" I say. "Does she want Carol's number? Or my friend Harley, she's not looking for commitment."

Yelena snickers. Alexei frowns. Melina chuckles. "No, no, Natalia needs someone she doesn't work with, and you need someone serious, and we need grandbabies before we die, since Yelena neglects it."

I flush a bright red. "Grandb— I'm— okay, first of all, neither of us have the equipment for that—"

"Neither did Dad," Yelena pipes up, referring to the fact that she and her sister were adopted.

"Hey!"

"(Y/N)!" Peter calls, rounding the corner. "Ned's coming over to pick me up, we need to finish our physics project. Uncle Ben should be here soon, can you manage the bar until he gets here?"

I jump onto the excuse and yell back affirmation, say a quick goodbye to Melina before speed-walking back to the cafe.

Peter leaves with Ned soon after, and Ben arrives at around the same time. I move to the kitchens while he takes over serving our regulars, as he's friendlier with them than me.

I work on making more sandwiches and tapas meals until four, when my shift ends. I kiss Uncle Ben on the cheek and head home.

The smell of paprikash greets me as I unlock the door to my apartment, which I guess means that my roommate is home. I call out a hello to her and head to the shower.

I groan happily as the hot water rains down on my front. I close my eyes and lean my head back, thinking over how strange the day had been, and lose myself in a trance of relaxation.

"(Y/N/N)!" Wanda barges in. I jump and almost slip grabbing the shower curtain to cover my body as I peek out at her.

"I'm naked," I hiss.

She ignores me and holds up two clothes hangers. "Pantsuit or dress?"

I push my wet hair out of my face. "Uh, are you bar-hopping with Vision or going to a family dinner?"

"Get together with some friends," she explains. "Vis, Sam, Steve and some guy named Bucky who I'm informed we're supposed to be pretending Steve isn't in love with, do you know him?"

"Nope."

"Okay, well, he's bringing some friends, so I'm bringing you. Don't make that face, you know almost everyone."

"I don't feel like getting drunk," I complain.

"Good! You can be the designated driver. Pantsuit or dress?"

Grumbling, I tell her, "Dress."

"Okay, thanks, you wear the pantsuit, be ready by seven. May the Force be with you!"

She ducks as I throw my shampoo bottle at her. We bicker and mock and tease as I pat myself dry and she changes into the scarlet dress. While she braids her hair, I carefully slip into the navy and white striped pantsuit, and we move into her bedroom to make use of her vanity, since the sun's lowering position in the sky shone straight into the window while my room would be encased in dimness by now. I sit in the chair and she leans over me, brushing her eyelashes with delicate mascara. We fall into our normal going-out-getting-ready rhythm, periodically handing each other different brushes, comparing lipstick shades, and commenting on our days. She tells me about her brother's latest shenanigans and I make the grave mistake of commenting on Melina's attempted set-up earlier today, much to Wanda's entertainment. The two had never met but they both shared the pure ecstasy that came with matchmaking involving me.

"Do you think she's pretty?" Wanda wonders.

"I've seen photos," I shrug. "She's a redhead. Yelena says she changes hairstyles often."

"That doesn't answer my question! Pretty redhead or no?"

"They were baby photos, Wanda! I didn't have an opinion on her looks past the Wonder Woman pajamas."

She hums, and turns to draw a small heart under my left eye with her gel liner pen. "It would be nice if you wound up with her, but if you do fall madly in love with her beautiful red locks and decide to move to Washington to marry her and have her babies, I will murder you. You pay your rent on time and you're fun and please, please do not make me move back in with my brother."

"Why does everyone keep bringing up babies?" I yell.

An hour later we're pulling up to the bar in the back of a cab arguing about getting a cat. The debate of whose bathroom would host the litter tray is interrupted by Wanda spotting Vision through the window and quickly smacking my arm and hissing at me to hurry up and pay so she can sneak in and scare him. Unfortunately, I can't locate my purse inside my bag.

"(Y/N), (Y/N), go, go, go . . ."

"Wanda, Wanda, going, going, going . . . Aha!" I pay the driver and find myself being ushered inside before I can put my purse back in my bag.

Sam, a friend of Wanda's from college, ends up foiling her evil master plan by pointing her out as soon as she walks in the door. Vision, being a good sport, pretends to be startled when she yells "BOO!" in his ear. As she cackles manically before sliding into the chair beside him, I notice the only free space is by the pretty blonde woman beside a man with brown hair pulled into a bun.

"Oh, look who I dragged out with me!" Wanda exclaims, taking a sip of Vision's drink and making a grand gesture with her hands. "(Y/N)!"

I'm greeted with a chorus of hello's. I bow and grin as I sit by the woman and offer a polite smile. Steve leans over points to the brunet man. "This is Bucky, we were close as friends. As kids. We were close as friends, when we were kids."

Sam snorts into his beer.

Steve clears his throat awkwardly. "And this is his partner from work, Nat."

I get a closer inspection and my eyes widen in shock. "Natalia?"

"Her name is Natasha." Steve corrects.

"I thought her name was Natalie?" Vision frowns.

"She goes by Nat, who cares?" Sam shrugs.

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova?" Wanda yelps. "(Y/N)! You didn't tell me this was the Natalia!"

"The what? I— Do I know you two?" Natasha asks, bewildered.

"Not me!" Wanda says, and then makes a motion for zipping her lips shut.

Everyone turns to me. I chuckle nervously. "I should probably explain. Hi, I'm (Y/N), your parents want me to have your babies."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fluff

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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

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destined for you (d.m.)

prompt requested by @sincerelymalfoy: everyone wanted to find their soulmate. that was except for draco malfoy. in this world, you find your soulmate because you can feel the same physical pain as them. this makes it harder for draco to avoid finding his soulmate.

pairing: draco malfoy x soulmate! fem! reader, friend! ron weasley x friend! reader

warnings: mentions of previous d*mestic ab*se, language, blood (from a nose bleed), burns from an open flame

word count: 5.6k

a/n: this fic mention’s draco’s abusive household at the end. if you find that this might be triggering content for you, please skip it or do not read this fic. take care of yourself please. fanfic is supposed to be enjoyable! so read with caution! all my love in the world, lex

You had heard of it before. Soulmates. Two souls put on this planet who were destined to find each other and spend their existence together harmoniously. Until death do them part.

It all sounded very romantic to you. Finding someone who had a soul, a spirit that matched yours. Kindred together. Your parents were soulmates and watching their relationship grow and blossom as you grew up was something you had always wanted. A love that continued to grow no matter the circumstances. A love that would guide you, protect you, care for you, and spend its days with you. A soulmate didn’t sound half bad.

Until you realized what that meant.

In order to know that you had met your soulmate, you would have to experience the same physical pains as them. Meaning everything that hurt them, you in turn felt, even though it wasn’t happening to you. The person could be on the other side of the planet, but the universe would still make you feel the same pains as them. It was an annoyance, for sure, but to you, anything that brought you one step closer to them was enough.

You remember exactly where you were when you first experienced your soulmates pain. You were about the age of eight, in your bedroom, reading on the floor, laying on your belly, kicking your legs about happily. That was before you felt a red, hot stinging sensation on your right cheek. Like someone had just slapped you in the face. Confusion washed all over you before you cried out, “Mum!” like any child would when random waves of pain washed over them with no reason why.

In a flash, your mother was in the doorway of your bedroom, asking what happened. You turned your cheek and pointed to it, telling her that it stung and hurt badly. Your mother’s eyes grew wide and she gasped, walking down to her child and touching the sensitive area. “Did you do this to yourself, sweetheart?” she asked, making sure that she wasn’t getting ahead of herself. Your soulmate couldn’t have possibly started showing signs of pain this young.

You shook your head and looked up at your mother worried about what was happening to you. “Am I gonna be alright, Mum?” you asked, your eight year old head full of worry and fear. This was scary for anyone, especially a child.

“Yes, darling, you will be quite alright. When you are a little older, your father and I will explain it all to you,” your mother brushed your cheek gently as you relaxed into her warm, maternal touch. She placed a gentle kiss on your hairline before speaking, “This happens to everyone, dear. I know, it’s confusing and can be scary. But it will end with good things, I swear it.”

And you held onto that promise that your mother told you that day on your bedroom floor. From that day on, you continued to feel random spurts of pain. A pinch in the fleshy part of your arm, a slap upside the head, a gut wrenching pain in the your gut, but most often you felt pain in your chest. Less physical pain, but like someone had just broken your heart. It would go away within seconds, but for those few seconds, it felt like someone had told you the worst news of your life, your heart felt hollow. This continued on and on for years but when you turned eleven things changed.

Two weeks before your eleventh birthday, your mother and father had talked to you about soulmates and how you felt their pain no matter where in the world they were. Even more specifically, your parents had given you warning that you might be meeting your soulmate soon. “What do you mean?” you sat in the dining room chair, dropping your fork at the suggestion of meeting your soulmate at the young, ripe age of eleven.

Your mother looked at your father who gave her a supportive nod. She took a deep breath in before speaking, “(Y/N), honey, you know that you’ll be going to Hogwarts soon. Kids from all over will be going to school with you. One of those kids could very well be your soulmate. I mean, that’s what happened to me and your father,” she tells you as your father grabs your mother’s hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

Whilst you sat at the dinner table, face blank, your mind was running a thousand miles a minute. You were going to turn eleven and all of a sudden you could be meeting your soulmate? You were a child. You should be focusing on school work, meeting new friends, having fun, enjoying this time of your life before it goes by in the blink of an eye. “But I don’t want to. Not yet,” you protest, tears starting to pool in your eyes. “I want to meet them soon, but not now.”

Rising from his chair, your father rushes to your side, not wanting to see his daughter torn over the news that she could be meeting her soulmate. She was supposed to be happy. “Hey, kiddo, it’s okay,” he wipes away your tear, brushing the hair out of your face, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It doesn’t mean you’re definitely going to meeting them. You might. That’s all. What your mother and I are more worried about is you being safe and having fun. That’s all,” he tells you with a reassuring smile. And in that moment, you calmed down and succumbed to a sniffling mess. “Hogwarts is going to be a blast. You’re going to meet so many new people and have so many new adventures, pumpkin. No need to worry about a silly soulmate.”

Your father’s words soothed you, but that was only temporary. When you arrived at Hogwarts, you were too involved in the thrill of things to pay attention to the small pains you would get from your soulmate. Instead, you let yourself wander away with new friends, discovering new parts of the castle and the grounds. Soon enough, finding your soulmate became the last thing on your mind.

But the years started to go by and a lot of your classmates were discovering that they had soulmates within Hogwarts. Students were putting two and two together, realizing the pains they were feeling were similar if not the same as their soulmates. In fact, most soulmate encounters happened in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey. A student came in complaining about a mysterious pain in their leg and low and behold, there was another student laying in a bed with their leg in a cast. Another match.

It came down to a new soulmate announcement happened every few days. You would groan and roll your eyes at the news, but deep down, you secretly wished that your soulmate would reveal themselves soon. Sure, when you first got to Hogwarts, you didn’t want to meet your soulmate because you wanted to focus on making friends and getting used to life at a new school. But now that you were in your sixth year and everyone was starting to find their soulmate, you felt left out.

You sat in the library, studying quietly by yourself before someone hurls themself in a chair right next to you. “Quick, pretend like we’re having a conversation,” Ron grabs your arm tight and shakes you. You give him a puzzled look before he speaks, “It’s Lavender again.”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you mindlessly start talking about whatever, pretending to be deep in conversation with Ron. Out of your periphery vision, you see Lavender approach the table, but then stomp her foot in frustration before leaving the area you were in and out of the library. Ron sighs in relief and leans back in the chair as you chuckle. “Why can’t you tell her that you’re not soulmates. Is she still on you about that?” you ask him, crossing your arms across your chest.

Ron groans, “Because she makes shit up! Like in Potions! I had burnt my hand on the flame and it hurt and then she pretended like her hand burned too, but it didn’t!”

You continue to tease Ron. “Oh yeah? How do you know it didn’t actually hurt?”

He leans forward on the table and exclaims, “She’s making it up! Because when we were in class last week, she bumped into Katie Bell and she got a nose bleed. And me? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. We are not soulmates, (Y/N)! She’s bloody out of her mind.” You just sit back and laugh at Ron’s hysterics. You did have to admit though, making up pains just so you can be soulmates with someone who didn’t want to be soulmates with you. That was a little strange. “I’m telling you, we need to find our soulmates soon or I’m gonna lose my mind.”

At the mention of finding your soulmate, your heart speeds up and you gulp. You really didn’t want to talk about your soulmate right now. The thought just made you frustrated. The last sign you had gotten from them was about two weeks ago. A deep pain in your side, like something had smashed into it.

“Have you felt anything recently? Maybe if you tell me, I’ll know of someone who felt it too,” Ron encourages. “Go on now.”

With a groan, you sit up and prop your head up on your hands as Ron waits for you to tell him. “Two weeks ago I had a crippling pain in my side. In the afternoon. Didn’t fade until an hour later,” you reveal to Ron.

He thinks for a moment and then speaks, “Which side? Where in your side? Like your stomach?”

“My left side by my ribcage. Hurt like a bitch,” you suck in, reminiscing the pain that had you curled over in bed as your roommate sat next to you in your bed, rubbing your back, trying to soothe the pain. But there was no use.

Ron think again before speaking, “I mean...I know it’s a long shot, but I remember someone saying that during quidditch practice someone was sent to Madam Pomfrey’s for an injury. I don’t remember who, but you could probably ask Madam Pomfrey and see if she remembers.”

You shrug, running your fingers through your hair. “I don’t know if it’s worth it, Ron. What am I going to say? Two weeks ago my side hurt and I don’t know who was injured. Do you know who it was? It might be my soulmate,” you tease Ron who rolls his eyes. “When the time is right, I’ll find them.”

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

Another week goes by and it’s another week of no pain. From either you or your soulmate. It was like they were doing everything in their power to prevent themselves from getting hurt. Even a paper cut. Nothing. And it was making you more frustrated then ever, seeing people happily walking in the hallway with their soulmates and yet here you were, soulmate-less and painless walking in the halls by yourself.

You walk into Potions class with a sigh, not really wanting to be here. You’d rather be hanging out with your friends in the courtyard on this beautiful, warm day rather than being cooped up inside the castle, doing nothing. “You look thrilled to be here,” Cho teases you as you take your usual seat next to her and behind Ron and Harry. “You alright?” she asks as you simply nod, not really feeling like vomiting all your baggage right now.

Class begins as normal and your assignment was to replicate Girding Potion successfully and quickly. The whole class was at work diligently as you opened vials, reading the ingredients list, dumping them into the cauldron. As you did so, girls around you chit chatted about their soulmates and their pains, taking them as clues as to who it could be.

The chatter was like a fly in your ear, buzzing around and around and around, driving you towards a meltdown. Sweet Hannah Abbot gushed at how Neville told her that he thought they were soulmates, bringing her two bunches of beautiful, lush flowers. Girls cooed at the story, telling her how lucky she was. Hannah was lucky; having found her soulmate and that being Neville Longbottom, Hogwarts’ sweetheart.

Girls continued to chatter about their soulmate and how close they were to finding them and how excited they were. This only made your blood boil as you angrily tossed things into the cauldron now, fists tightening. “(Y/N), take it easy,” Ron laughs next to you as he watches you angrily toss things into your concoction.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ronald. Is my frustration bothersome? I can’t help it that I’m one of the last people in this school to find their soulmate after relentlessly searching for signs that they’re still alive,” you angrily tear up dragonfly thoraxes, tossing them into the potion as Ron just watches you concerned. “I mean bloody hell, there are fourth years who have found their soulmates and I’m still clueless as if they even go to school here. You’d thing finding one person wouldn’t be so hard, but damn it, Ronald, I’m so exhausted of hearing everyone else’s stories and how happy they are and how in love people are whilst I’m standing here trying to figure out if I still have a soulmate at this point!” you whisper yell at him, growing angrier with every word you utter. “Ugh, whatever I ju-Ow! Fuck!” you hiss as you realize you’ve burnt your hand on the open flame that licks the the cauldron.

Ron looks at the burn and his eyes widen. “Not again,” he huffs, having been through this before. “Come here, we’ll have to run it under ice water to stop the stinging,” Ron tells you, grabbing an empty cauldron. “Aguamenti,” he casts on the cauldron, filling it up with cold water as you submerge it fully, the stinging sensation subsiding. “Professor Slughorn! (Y/N) seems to have burnt her hand,” Ron calls over Slughorn who is attentive at another work table.

Slughorn turns around and lightly chuckles, “You too, Miss (Y/L/N)? Mr. Malfoy seems to have also burnt his hand. One moment and I’ll be right with you to take a look at the burns.”

Your eyes widen and your heart sinks for a moment. “O-Okay,” you stutter before you turn to Ron who looks at you in disbelief. Draco Malfoy? No. Absolutely not. No way. Not a chance. “It’s a coincidence,” you tell Ron with a shake of your head in disbelief. “Everyone burns their hand in Potions. It happens all the time,” you try to convince yourself as you focus on your hand in the cold water, watching it clench and flex underneath the surface.

Ron opens up his mouth in protest, but you give him a look as if to say don’t you dare try to rationalize this. Ron sighs. “Whatever you say. It’s your soulmate,” he shrugs with a little smile.

“Shut up, Ronald, or I’ll tell Lavender,” you warn him and he instantly shuts up.

The thought of Draco Malfoy being the person the universe chose to be your soulmate made you feel physically ill. Draco was nothing you wanted in a soulmate. He was cruel and vindictive and ill-mannered and vicious. He had no care for anyone except if it benefit him in some form. How could you manage to care for someone with a character like that?

You glanced over at Draco who watched as Professor Slughorn wrapped his badly burned handle in cream colored gauze. The motion of him wrapping the gauze around his hand was almost hypnotizing as you watched it go round and round, your eyes trailing up to Draco’s face. His face was relaxed, but his jaw was clenched and tense, accentuating his bone structure of his face. Slowly, his head turned to face yours, his cold blue eyes meeting yours as you gulped. When he looked at you, your heart thumped against your chest like a drum. Shaking it off, you look back down at your hand, but you can still feel Draco’s eyes on you.

“If he’s my soulmate, I don’t know what I’ll do,” you whisper down, not daring to make eye contact with Ron.

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

Another week passed and their was radio silence from your soulmate. Nothing. However, you were kind of glad there was nothing after what happened in Potions class. You wouldn’t let yourself entertain the thought that Draco Malfoy could be your soulmate in some timeline. The more you thought about it, the sicker it made you feel.

When you passed him in the hall, you refused to look in his direction and him you. The both of you knew what the other way thinking, but wouldn’t dare confront the other about it. It was far too risky to play that game. No need to talk about something if neither one of you wanted it to be true.

You found yourself hanging out in the courtyard, messing around with a few of your friends as you sat on the grass, absorbing the brilliant spring sun. People chattered amongst themselves, delighted to be surrounded with their friends. As you leaned up against the tree, you chat lightly to Ron, watching other people toss around a ball, others lay around in the grass, some reading books. “Lavender finally off your back?” you ask Ron, giving him a nudge with a smile.

Ron rolls his eyes, “Bloody finally. It only took forever.” You chuckle before resting your head on his shoulder. “Anything from you? We haven’t talked about it since....you know...” he trails off, not daring to say his name like it was You-Know-Who.

But he was always around. There was no escaping him. There he was, standing in the courtyard, surrounded by his little bitch boy posse as you sneered, “No. And I’m not even entertaining the thought that it’s him. He’s horrid.”

Ron chuckled lightly, giving your arm a squeeze. “Alright, let’s get your mind off of him. Did you do the DaDa homework? Because I certainly did not and Hermione told me she won’t let me use hers again ‘cause I used hers last week.”

The two of you keep chatting for a little while until you feel a sharp pain in your left side, like the one you had all those weeks ago. “Ah,” you wince in pain as you hands meet you left side, clutching it in pain, writhing. “Not again.”

Ron turns and faces you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You alright? What do you mean not again?” he asks, searching your eyes for some clarity. “You need a medic? Someone? Hannah? Come over here!” Ron calls out to Hannah Abbot who lays on the ground, head in Neville’s lap. She shoots straight up to meet you at your side, asking you what the problem was.

“It’s fine. This happened a few weeks ago. You can ask my roommate about it. I think it’s my soulmate actually. They hurt themselves badly and it seems like, ah shit, they’ve done it again,” you seethe in pain as you clutch onto your side, electricity shooting up and down your sides.

Hannah looks at you and grabs your shoulders, trying to get you to stop contorting your body. “Don’t move, it’ll only make the pain worse, alright?” she tells you. “The pain should subside if it’s only your soulmate’s pain and not yours directly. That being said, you have any clue who your soulmate is? Are they at Hogwarts? ‘Cause if they are here, we can get them help which will ultimately help you,” Hannah explains.

And that’s when the moment you dreaded finally came. You gulp, your chest heaving up and down from the pain as you look up through your eyelashes to look across the courtyard. And low and below, there he was. Clutching onto his side, wincing in pain as he threw an arm over Blaise Zabini’s shoulder, using him as a crutch.

From the distance, you hear him speak, “I’m fine. Honestly. I think I reopened whatever injury I got from that quidditch practice a few weeks ago. I’m alright, Blaise, honestly, no need to fuckin’ baby me.” Draco untangles himself from Blaise as brushes off his shirt while still wincing lightly at the pain.

Your heart sinks into your feet and all of a sudden you feel lightheaded. So the day in Potions class was real. Draco didn’t coincidentally burn his hand too. He felt your burn because you were soulmates. You felt his rib injury because you were soulmates. Draco Malfoy was destined to be yours.

“I’ve got to go. Now,” you try and scramble to your feet, pushing through the burning pain up and down your ribcage, ignoring Ron and Hannah’s protests that you needed to take it easy. “The pain is gone. I’m fine. I need to go,” you simply call out, walking away from the group in the courtyard.

You were on a mission now and you were going to put an end to this. Once and for all. Without further hesitation, you grab your bag and start marching over to the other side of the courtyard to where Draco was. As you do so, he notices you approaching and starts to leave the courtyard, trying to prevent you and him having some sort of interaction. “God Godric, really, Malfoy?” you huff out to yourself, knowing that if this was the way he was reacting to the news, the future didn’t look too bright.

Draco starts to march through the corridors as you are quick on his heels, chasing him like a predator chases its prey in the wild. Draco turns to see if you are still on his toes and much to his dismay, you are right behind him. “Malfoy, would you stop running away from me? We need to have a conversation!”

He scoffs, “No, you want to have a conversation. I would like to go back to the common room and take a load off.”

You groan out in frustration before taking up a light jog and grabbing a hold of his wrist, pulling him into an empty classroom. Before he can squirm away, you shut the door and put your back against it, preventing him from going anywhere.

The two of you just stand there, glaring at each other, both gravely disappointed with the reality that just slapped you both in the face. No one says anything for a moment. You two are just breathing, heavy and hot in the room, a few feet separating the two of you. Neither one of you dared to take a step closer to the other.

“What’s the problem, (Y/L/N)?” Draco tucks his hands into his pockets, playing the fool. Pretending he isn’t bothered by this information that your souls were made for each other. He was trying to play it cool whilst inside his mind was screaming and shouting, how could this have happened? Someone like you with someone like him. The universe had to have made a mistake.

Oh, Malfoy, you fool. The universe doesn’t make mistakes.

Your chest is still heaving up and down as you speak, “We’re soulmates, Draco.”

He shakes his head, “Sure. Whatever that means. Congratulations, we did it. Go us. Now can you kindly move your arse out of the way so I can go relax in peace?”

“No!” you exclaim, firmly planted at the door, glaring at him. “Listen, I’m just as unhappy as you are with this outcome!” you reveal as Draco gulps with a scowl on his face. “But the universe chose us as soulmates for some reason and I’m going to listen to the universe. We both can’t ignore it anymore.”

Draco looks away from you, refusing to look you in the eyes. For some reason, looking at you in the eyes was too much for him. It felt like you were looking into his soul, you knew all of his secrets with just a gaze into those iceberg eyes of his.

“That day in Potions, you didn’t burn your hand...” you gently coax him. “That was my burn that you felt.”

“So what! We both burned our hands in Potions! That doesn’t make us any more or less soulmates!” he explodes in fury.

His sudden change in demeanor makes you change tactics. You knew that this conversation would be hard to have with Draco, but not like this. You didn’t think he would succumb to acting like a child at this news. Finding your soulmate should be something to celebrate, to rejoice about, but instead it was an uphill battle. But one you intended to win.

“Alright then, you want to ignore Potions. Fine! What about your rib cage? Four weeks ago, I was writhing in pain on my bed one afternoon for hours from the pain. Ron told me that a quidditch player got injured during timed trials. He didn’t know who. So, today, I feel the same pain in my side in the courtyard, just to look up at see you writhing in pain in your side. You were the quidditch player, Draco. And don’t you dare lie to me and say it was someone else. Because we both know damn well that neither of us deserve to be lied to again!” you exclaim, hot tears now brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill out.

Draco hears the emotion in your voice and watches your soft face crack to reveal a truly sad person. His eyes soften and he gulps, feeling horribly guilty. But he doesn’t let you know it.

“When I was younger,” you sniffle, “I always wanted to meet my soulmate. I felt so badly for them because I always felt their pain. And my soulmate was always hurting. In his body, yes, but in his heart,” you try to reason with him. “I told my mum and dad that when I met my soulmate I would give them a hug because I didn’t want them to feel anymore pain. I wanted them to feel loved.” Your eyes search Draco’s for some glimmer of hope. You weren’t expecting a proclamation of love or realization. You were looking for hope. “We were destined for each other.”

Draco takes a deep breath in before speaking, “We may be destined for each other, (Y/N). But I don’t think we can ever love each other.”

His words leave you blank. That was the best way to describe the way you felt. You weren’t surprised he would say that, but you were shocked that he had actually done it. His sad smile means nothing to you; in fact, it feels like he just twisted the knife that was in your gut.

He manages to slip out of the classroom, leaving you there, numb and blank.

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

You didn’t sleep that night. It was nearly impossible to sleep. The scene just kept playing on and on and on in your head until it became a broken movie reel. Your mind screamed to close your eyes and sleep, but your memories manifested themselves into a sick nightmare as you jolted awake, heart pounding.

Your roommates were still fast asleep as you peaked a look at your clock. 2:22am. Angel number now? Great. Well, where were you hours ago?

Slowly, you toss your legs over the side of the bed and grab a sweatshirt and slippers, pulling the cozy material closer to your chilly body. Quietly, you descend the steps of your dormitory and away into the castle to go for a midnight stroll, hoping that you would be caught by the Head Boy or Girl or any other prefect that roamed the halls patrolling them from midnight stragglers.

The halls of Hogwarts were quiet. But not in a scary way. In a comforting way. The pictures on the walls slept gently, small snores coming from a few pictures making a small smile draw its way onto your lips as you shuffles the halls. The air was cool and crisp as you breathed it in, the sensation cooling your lungs as you sighed. This was much needed after a day like today.

As you stroll further through the castle, you come across the courtyard again and you gulp. The scene plays over and over in your head. “We may be destined for each other, (Y/N). But I don’t think we can ever love each other.” His words were a sick mantra in your mind. How could you possibly spend the rest of your life with someone who didn’t even want to put in an ounce of effort? You were supposed to be loved. Give love. Get love. But instead, you ended up with a shattered daydream of what things could have been.

You peel your eyes away from the courtyard and to the corridor where on the edge of the wall sits who you wanted to see least of all right now. Your heart stops at the sight of his white blonde hair, sloppily slicked back. His eyes were dark and tired. He couldn’t sleep either.

Maybe you could slip away without him knowing you were even there. Maybe if you turned around you coul-

“My father was ruthless to me as a child,” Draco speaks up without looking at you. You stop in your tracks and listen. Slowly, he turns to face you and gives you a sad smile. “Still is, to an extent. Not as physically ruthless, but...you get the idea,” he confesses as you sigh and walk over to him, taking a seat beside him on the cold brick, leaning your back against the wall.

Draco gulps and settles before continuing on. “I was always worried. That whenever he would make me feel hurt, my soulmate would feel it. My mother tried to tell me that they would be just fine, but I knew....I knew that she was lying to protect me. Protect me from whatever it was,” he trails off, becoming quiet. In the dark, you couldn’t really tell, but you knew he was softly crying, tears falling down from the pools of blue in his eyes. “I’m so sorry that you had to feel what I felt growing up...he’s a monster. My own father...”

You scoot over closer to Draco and shake your head. None of this was his fault. “Draco, you don’t need to apologize to me. Your father is despicable and you are not him,” you tell him as Draco wipes his tears before you could see them. He didn’t want to cry in front of you yet. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that all those years.”

He shakes his head, “You know, for years, I tried to convince myself that I didn’t have a soulmate,” he lightly laughs. “That way, I only had to protect myself. It was selfish of me. But...obviously, that didn’t work out. I would feel your pain too. I remember one day in third year, something had happened to you. You were running and you fell and you broke your arm. I remember yelling out in pain in the common room and Goyle looked at me like I had ten heads,” he laughs as you joined him, smiling at the memory. He was right. You were running with Ron when you had tripped and fallen in Hogsmeade and broke your right arm. “I remember you came back with a bright orange cast and everyone signed it in Divinations class. You told everyone Madam Pomfrey said you didn’t need a cast because of the Healing Potion, but you insisted on getting one because you had one when you were eight. I remember I thought you looked cute smiling and giggling as people wrote their get wells on your broken arm.”

The smile that appears on your face is wide as your heart gently flutters as he remembered all the tiny details of when you broke your arm. Draco knew for so long that you were soulmates and yet, you were so dead clueless.

“I didn’t want to tell you that we were soulmates because I didn’t want you to be disappointed,” Draco confesses. “I guess I’m a bit too late on that one, eh?”

You shake your head and sigh, “No, Draco. I mean, do I think you’re a down right dickhead? Absolutely.” He laughs. “But I don’t think it’s too late for you to start trying to act differently. If you can remember me breaking my arm in third year and remember what color the bloody cast was...I think you can work on being a better person. Not for me. But for you.”

Draco inhales deeply before shaking his head, exhaling. “I want to be better. For me, but I want to be what you deserve. If we’re going to...do this, I want to do it right. And if, by some fucked up reason,” he laughs as you chuckle, “it doesn’t work, then at least we know that we tried.”

You feel his hand grab yours as he intertwines his fingers with yours. You look down at his hands and smile, giving it a soft squeeze, assuring him that his proposal sounded like a plan. You were going to give this a go.

If the universe believed in you and Draco, why shouldn’t you?

“That’s all I can ask for,” you whispered gently.

“And I promise I’m going to do more than you ask for. I swear on my life.”

------

taglist: @lumos-barnes @kerie-prince @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @another-lonely-heart-blog @starlightweasley @shilohpug

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy smut #draco smut #Draco Malfoy Headcanon #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy oneshot #draco x oc #draco x blaise #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco Malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x slytherin #draco malfoy x neutral

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keichan · 3 years ago

Text

The Confession (Part 2)

You had a crush on your friend Bokuto Koutarou in high school. Though he rejected you, you moved on years later. Or so you thought.

Part 1

wc: 2.3k

A/N: This was requested through an anon however I won’t be taking requests off of originals anymore. Truthfully this was really difficult to write since the rejection was actually something that had happened to me about a month ago with a pretty good friend of mine. Anyways feel free to send me requests and headcannons of other things! My inbox is DRY!!

“Hey. Let me in.” Bokuto’s voice sounded clear as day over the phone.

“I didn’t know you were back in Tokyo. Why are you outside the apartment?” You were on the brink of sleep when he called.

“Didn’t Akaashi tell you that I was visiting? It’s been a while. C’mere.”

You sighed. Bokuto has tried his best to keep in touch with you since he had graduated. The first year was simple per usual. Though you admitted you distanced yourself from him. However since you and Akaashi became roommates and started college. You just didn’t have time.

“Hey. “ You quietly opened the front door to let him in. He looked good as ever. He pulled you tightly into a hug as he sighed into your hair.

“Long time no see, huh?” He pulled away and started walking towards your bedroom. You yawned as you followed him inside. He stood at the door way as he studied the walls. You tapped on his shoulder gently and stepped around him to sit on your bed.

“So are you gonna crash on the couch again?” You yawned. He nodded. Still standing.

“I’ve had something on my mind for a while now and I’ve gotta say, I was wrong.” He said plainly.

“About?” You body perked up in bed. His golden eyes turned to you. The moonlight that peaked through the blinds illuminated his face.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to do it, but I have more time than I could have imagined since I’ve gone pro-“

“What are you talking about?” You propped yourself up, swinging your legs onto the ground. Bokuto wasn’t the kind of person to sound cryptic.

He sat on the bed beside you, now looking to the ceiling. Studying the cracks, the texture before returning his gaze to you.

“You know. Two years ago I said no because I thought it would be more beneficial for the both of us. I didn’t want to hinder you at all. So I acted like it meant nothing.” He sighed as he laid onto your bed. Eyes back to the ceiling. You swallowed a lump in your throat. What was he talking about?

“I don’t even know if you’d even still be interested. I mean we don’t talk as much. It was even a little awkward for a while.” He continued.

“I was hoping that you would want to give it a try.” He closed his eyes as he sucked in a breath, flailing his arms behind him.

“Give what a try?”

His body shot straight up and he looked at you knowingly.

“You know!”

Your hand quickly clamped onto his mouth.

“Akaashi’s asleep right now. You need to be quiet.”

He nodded as your hand slid down onto your lap.

“You know!” He whispered. “When you asked me out and I said no. That whole thing. I want to date. Or at least try.”

You gave him a dumbfounded look.

“You’re funny, Bokuto. I’ll give you that. I think I’m going to go to sleep now, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You began to get under your blankets, facing away from Bokuto.

“But, I”m being serious.”

“Goodnight, Bokuto.” You heard him sigh as the weight from the foot of your bed lifted. Your bedroom door creaked closed. You stared at your bedroom wall. The smallest, dumbest conversation made your feelings resurface.

“So where is she?” Bokuto dug into the breakfast that Akaashi had prepared for them.

“Oh? She’s on a breakfast date with some guy from her biology class.”

Bokuto froze with his spoon in his mouth.

“Date?” His voice is slightly muffled by the utensil. Akaashi nodded as he pressed his coffee cup to his lips. The steam fogged up his glasses ever so slightly.

“Yeah. I think he asked her last Friday. She left about two hours ago.” He placed the cup on the table looking at him knowingly. Bokuto stared into his food and flipped it over, cutting it into small bits. Akaashi glanced at his friend as the front door opened.

“Hey! Oh Akaashi! I didn’t know you were cooking this morning!” You looked over the counter before you reached into the cabinet to grab yourself a plate.

“You’re still hungry?” He questioned.

“Yeah! We ended up eating pretty quick and walked around the park off of campus! It was pretty nice!” Once you realized that Bokuto was poking at his food, you sunk awkwardly into the chair next to him. He didn’t say a word or even look at you.

“So!” You took a bite of your second breakfast. “What do you two have planned out today?”

“I have to go to a study group for English tonight. I’m not doing too well.” Akaashi stood to pour himself another cup of coffee. The sound of the liquid sputtering into the glass raised an unbeknownst tension between you and the gray-haired man beside you.

“I guess we can watch movies or something.” Your stomach dropped with the realization that your roommate has class at noon. Akaashi checked his watch as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

“I’m going to class. See you guys.” As soon as the door closed the silence was deafening. It felt like the two of you were sitting there for an hour, when in all reality the two of you finished eating in silence for three minutes. You made a poor excuse that you were going to take a nap. He tried to bicker with you to spend time with him, but you ignored the man as your bedroom door loudly closed behind you.

You groaned as you sat up in bed. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you rose and made your way to the kitchen. You slowed as you saw Bokuto looking around in the fridge. Using his other hand he was using a towel to dry his hair.

You let out a breath you didn’t know that you were holding. What do you say? Or do you not say anything. May as well pretend that the run in never happened. Again…

Turning on you heel, you proceeded to go back to your room, when a hand grabbed your shoulder,

“Y/N.” You turned to see Bokuto. Face to face he gave you a small smile. Drops of water littered his forehead. He was so close.

“When are we gonna talk about last night? Or are you gonna brush it off until I leave?” He spoke in a low tone. His eyes not leaving yours once. You attempted to turn away from him, but he yanked your wrist towards him. Nose to nose now, you gulped as you leaned away from him, but he followed.

“Why’re you avoiding me?” His eyes reflected the dim light from your kitchen stove.

“I’m not-”

“I know when you’re lying to me.” HIs grip tightened slightly. Bokuto’s breath fanned your face. Your eyes scurried, looking everywhere, but him.

“Just tell me.” He said gently.

“You don’t get to do this to me.” You squeezed your eyes shut, turning your head away from him once more,

“Do what?”

“Do you understand how long it took for me to get over you? I had to pretend like it didn’t bother me for the end of the year! I never ever told Akaashi what happened because I didn’t want it to affect the dynamic of our friendship. I was in love with you and I had to deal with that. You don’t get to tell me that you were wrong and you finally want to go out. You don’t get to say whatever you want so loosely when I know it doesn’t affect you the way it does me!”

HIs hand fell slack to his side. His head tilted to the side. His face was solemn.

“You know that’s not true.” His voice was barely above a whisper. You held your wrist that he held to your chest. At this point your body was trembling. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or yell.

“I knew you liked me. I didn’t want to hold you back at all. I didn’t want to be a let down to you when I left. I took the last two years to be a better version of myself so that we can work out. I just wanted to be normal for you.” He clasped his hands together awkwardly. You nodded before waking to your room. He called after you, his footsteps creaking after yours. You slid down to the floor. You felt the door shudder on the other side, assuming Bokuto had done the same, tears began to slide down your cheeks.

Hugging your knees to your chest, Bokuto began to speak on the other side of the door.

“You know. From the moment I saw you I liked you. You accepted me for me and I loved that. I loved spending time with you everyday. I enjoyed every second of it. These negative thoughts kinda began to eat at me.” He choked on his sentence. You heard a deep inhale before he continued. “What if you get sick of me. I saw how my teammates would treat me sometimes. But I couldn’t help with the way I acted. It was just me. I couldn’t change that some things had me down in the dumps. Then it was the whole what if she likes me back? She’ll date me and then look at me how everyone else does. She’ll be around me too long and I’ll have to put up a front that’s actually appealing to you so you won’t leave. Just you leaving.” His voice faded.

You studied the wood floors at your feet. The way the crevices connected into each other. You made patterns along them to pass the time. Words couldn’t escape your lips. The minutes passing felt like hours. Your heart had a dull ache.

“And then you said that to me in the gym that day.” He began.

“When you said that, it was everything that I had ever wanted to be truthful. Though at the same time all I could think of was why would you like me? I don’t dislike myself by any means, but I just couldn’t understand why someone as good as you could like me. I couldn’t say yes and let you down. So I said no. Then I saw you the next day and it was like nothing had happened. So I assumed that it wasn’t a big deal to you. I assumed that it was just a simple phase of your life for you. And for me… For me..” He paused.

“I’m going to sleep. I’m sorry that I disrespected your personal boundaries. I’ll leave in the morning. I wish you the best.”

Tears silently poured from your eyes. You looked for patterns in the wooden panels again to soothe yourself. Maybe this was for the best. Just to part ways…

No.

You shakily rose to your feet, resting your hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath before opening the door. Your legs carried you to the living room. But Bokuto wasn’t there. The blankets that he had used to sleep on the couch were nicely folded on top of the pillow he had used. His gym bag was gone.

You went to the bathroom. The lights were off. Towels were hung nicely. His toiletries were gone.

You ran your hands through your hair as your stared around the room anxiously. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes once again.

Exiting the room you made way to the kitchen. A note on the fridge.

Y/N, Akaashi

I had to get back to Osaka early! Coach called me earlier and I didn’t want to inconvenience the two of you since you guys were already asleep.

Till next time

You crumpled the note in your hand. It had probably been at least fifteen minutes since he had left your bedroom door. He couldn’t have made it that far.

You took off through the front door. Barreling down the stairs you made it to the street. You turned the corner to the train station, you saw him.

“Koutarou!” You shouted. The tall man turned to see you. His eyes were red and puffy. He took the palm of his hand to wipe at his eyes.

“You know Tokyo is dangerous at night. You shouldn’t be running around. You’re not even wearing any shoes. What if someone littered and you stepped on a broken bottle.” He cried harder as he kept looking at you. He took both of his hands and covered his eyes.

“Koutarou, the trains aren’t running right now. Come back with me.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to inconvenience you. I know you don’t want to be by me right now so I’ll just sleep in the station until they start running.”

You froze in front of the man as he turned his head away from you, continuously wiping his tears away. Not once in the three years that you had known Bokuto Koutarou had you seen him cry.

You stepped towards him slowly. You arms wrapped around his back and you pulled him into a tight hug. You began to sob. You felt your body tremble as cries silently escaped through your mouth. You felt his hands clasp around your back, pulling you closer to his chest.

“Shhh.” He attempted to soothe you. Running his hand repeated over the back of your head.

“You don’t need to cry just because I can’t handle my emotions. You have that guy you’ve been getting breakfast with. You’re doing great with school. Just don’t worry about me.”

You lifted your head off of your chest to meet his gaze. He gave you a sad smile. Reassuring you that it was okay. He had streaks down his cheeks from where his tears had fallen. You used your thumb to wipe them away.

“But he’s not you.”

You gently pulled him down by the nape of his neck and placed your lips gently on his . His eyes widened in shock. You pulled away, giving him a small smile.

“I hope you know that I would never ever get tired of you. I like you for you. Nothing could ever change that. We’ve waited long enough. Let’s finally give us a try.”

“Really?” His hands rushed up to your cheeks. He held your face as if you were the most delicate thing to exist. Tears welled up in his eyes once more.

“Really.”

He placed his lips on yours once more. Turning his head to deepen the kiss, you placed your hands gently atop of his. You could feel him smiling with every motion.

Pulling away he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s go home.” You stuck your hand out towards him smiling. Your features glowed beautifully under the streetlight. He placed his hand into yours and the two of you returned to your home.

#bokuto #bokuto koutaro #koutarou bokuto #bokuto angst #bokuto fluff #koutarou x reader #koutarou #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu AU #fukurodani #akaashi keiji #keiji akaashi

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

Shut Eye: The Other Side

pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x soulmate reader, fluff

premise: In a world where every night Yoongi meets his soulmate in his dreams only to forget their face and voice when he wakes up, He’s now more desperate than ever to find them.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this is Yoongi’s POV of the original one shot, ‘Shut Eye’. Give it a read if you haven’t, this will make more sense!

requested by anon - thanks for wanting to see a bit more with this story! a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post!

It wasn’t a secret that Yoongi wasn’t a fan of traveling very often. It wasn’t the flying or the different foods - he loved seeing new places and meeting people from all over the world. In fact, seeing their fans was usually the only way to get him to cheer up.

What he hated about traveling was how it messed with his sleep schedule. He wanted to sleep at the same time as you.

Not like he knew you, but he was very aware of how he felt while sharing the dreamscape with you.

Simply put, he felt happy. The kind of joy that fills up your very bones and leaves you with your own personal sun hanging above your head for hours to come.

So no, Yoongi couldn’t say he was a very big fan of traveling. Not when it took him far away from your timezone and left him to dreams void of your presence.

Now, with tour season looming in the not-so-far-off distance, he realized that he couldn’t keep this up. He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. It was time.

Thankfully, Jin felt the same way. When the dreams started - around the age of nineteen - Yoongi hadn’t known where to turn. However, as time went on, he knew that he could turn to his members. Jin just so happened to be his roommate, and therefore the constant listener. The mornings when Yoongi would awake and sit straight up as though chasing after you worked almost as well as an alarm clock for Jin. With bleary eyes he’d roll over or later on when they got bigger rooms and had something of a separator between either side, he’d slip on his pink slippers and pad over to where Yoongi had collapsed back on his pillows and had thrown his hands over his eyes.

“What do you remember this time?” Jin would ask with a gravelly voice.

Yoongi would keep his eyes closed, desperately trying to remember every detail. However the most frustrating part was never being able to remember the sound of your voice or what you looked like.

It was Hoseok who first offered up the idea about the award show.

“You have to start somewhere,” he explained. “So why not start with us? Drop some major hints. She’ll get it.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Yoongi griped miserably. The only thing on his mind was the impending tour and the months spent without you in his dreams.

Hoseok simply shrugged, giving his friend a firm pat on the back before getting up from the couch. “You have to start somewhere, Yoongi.”

And start he did.

He remembered how nervous he was, even though it was just a part of the dream, to bring you out to the red carpet. He’d asked to see his suit earlier that day, thinking that it might help you to identify him in real life.

When the boys asked him about how it went the first night, Yoongi gave some noncommittal answers. You’d certainly seemed confused, and he felt almost bad because he knew that you’d probably woken up with more questions that answers.

The next night, however, Yoongi was shocked.

He’d entered the dreamscape before you, and had taken a moment to steel his nerves. It was also a little nerve-wracking to meet you every night, going through the process of seeing you for what felt like the first time over and over again.

You entered the dreamscape, he heard your footsteps. Taking a deep breath, he turned around to face you.

You...wow.

Dressed in a deep red gown that kisses the tops of your ankles, you had a forgotten smile on your face as you recognize your soulmate. He did his best to appear unaffected, but he couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey,” Yoongi mumbled, wondering for the millionth time how he could forget someone like you every morning. “You look beautiful.”

You took a look at his suit, and he stilled under your inspection. “Are you wearing that to the award show today?”

Yoongi nodded, stepping toward you. “I wish you could go, I know that I’d be able to find you-”

“I am.”

His heart wasn’t sure if it should stop or speed up, instead settling for some sort of palpitation. “You are? How?”

“Ji-eun is my best friend, remember?”

“So…we’ll see each other.” Even as he uttered it, Yoongi wondered if it was too good to be true.

“I hope so.” You titled your head, and it made him want to do the same. “But will you recognize me? It was so hard for me to remember any details after last night’s dream, I feel like it’s getting harder.”

“I think it is,” Yoongi admitted, holding his breath as he walked the final few steps toward you and grabbed your hand. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to forget this dress.”

Of course, as soon as he woke up, the image of that red dress was burned on the inside of his eyelids. Throughout the day, he was rambling off different things about it to whoever would listen. The other members had heard enough about it to last the next several years. That didn’t stop him from talking about it some more, of course.

Once they made it to the red carpet, Yoongi found that he couldn’t focus on anything. He looked like some freshly-debuted kid, eyes wandering and fidgeting nonstop. The other members just laughed, playing it off as best they could.

“Let me know if you see a red dress,” he mumbled for the hundredth time to Taehyung.

“Hyung,” Taehyung placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know. Obviously I’ll have to look, you’re too short to see anything as is.”

While the rest of the group laughs as they walk onto the red carpet, Jimin especially enjoying the joke that is usually reserved for him, Yoongi raises his brows.

Without a single ounce of shame, he gets up on his tippy toes and begins to look around from the new vantage point. How is nobody wearing a long, red dress?! Isn’t that like a staple of the red carpet??

Just as he’s about to curse and start posing for pictures like he should, his eyes catch on a red dress far down the line. Slowly, as though swimming through concrete, his eyes drag themselves up to meet yours.

You - it’s you, he’s sure of it - are staring right back at him. And you tilt your head to the side, in a way that’s so familiar to him that it almost feels like he’s somehow stumbled into the dreamscape in the middle of the red carpet.

There’s only way to find out.

Somehow his feet manage to carry him to you, and he’s standing in front of you and seeing you for what feels like the first time but he knows - just knows - that you and him have a very long, detailed history.

“Quick,” he breathes out even as your eyes are devouring him alive. “If it’s really you, tell me what name we can’t agree on for a girl.”

He sees your surprise, and for a moment he’s terrified that this is all some huge mistake. That he’s officially lost it and that this marks the end of his sanity that he’s somehow managed to cling to for all these years.

However, just as he’s about to apologize and slink back to where he came from, you smile.

Really smile.

And he remembers. That smile is the same one that greeted him every time he got to the dreamscape a little late. You would pretend to be upset, laying out on the couch and groaning about how you don’t even know why you try to be on time. And he would laugh and kneel before the couch, sweetly asking you to forgive him.

That same smile would melt his bones and haunt him in his waking hours.

And suddenly you’re answering him, the amusement evident in your voice. “We are not naming her Pearl! It would make her sound like a pirate ship!”

It doesn’t matter, he realizes. He couldn’t care less right now. Not as you’re finally within reach.

But he’s not going to tell you that. Better to keep that feigned annoyance on your face for a little longer - it’s adorable.

So he just brings you closer until your foreheads are touching and you’re all he can see. It’s just you and that red dress and that smile that he thinks he’ll always remember, even if he forgets his own name.

And when he quietly mumbles, “I told you we’d find a way,” he knows he’s saying it more to himself than to you.

Together, you’d found a way.

Finally.

masterlist

#yoongi x reader #Min Yoongi fluff #bangtan #armywriterssupport #suga x reader #yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #idol!bangtan #idol!bts x reader #idol!yoongi x soulmate #suga x soulmate #idol!suga x reader #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #suga oneshot #yoongi oneshot #bts oneshot #bts sfw

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pepperonijem · 4 years ago

Text

Silent Night || Steve Rogers

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: None, just pure Christmas rom-com feels.

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: You need a fake date to bring home for the holidays. Steve is more than willing. (Fake Dating AU)

A/N: Don’t mind me, just overly obsessed with cheesy hallmark Christmas movies and Steven Grant Rogers. It’s my first fic in a very long time, please be nice ok thx bye have a happy holiday!

‘Twas the night before Christmas break, when all through the apartment complex, not a creature was sleeping, not even a mouse; luggage was packed, without so much as a care, in hopes that they would all soon be out of there. All except one, who wished to stay.

“I can’t believe you told your mom you had a boyfriend,” your roommate, Natasha, laughed. “Actually, I can’t believe your mom believes you have a boyfriend.”

You shot a look at her before tossing a pillow in her direction. “I’m just tired of her getting onto me about being a spinster,” you rolled your eyes as you recalled your mom’s pleading voice over the phone.

“So have you met anyone yet?”

You couldn’t see her but you just knew how her eyebrows were raised in interest. It had become almost a weekly question, and for a second, you considered just hanging up right then, but then an idea came.

“Actually, I have,” you lied. It was only September, and you weren’t going to see your parents until the holidays, and by then, you could come up with a fake break-up story with your imaginary boyfriend.

“Really?” you heard your mother squeal in excitement and you almost felt bad. Almost. “Tell me all about him, and make sure you bring him home for Christmas, I want to meet him!”

You couldn’t help but crack a sad smile as you fed your mom fake details about your fake relationship. “We met in class and started studying together and one thing led to another, and now we’re dating.” There. The bare minimum, but enough to keep her satisfied.

The impact of the pillow against your face snapped you out of your thoughts. “Weren’t you supposed to break up with your fake boyfriend before break?” She questioned. “What happened to that?”

Plopping down beside her on the couch, you sighed and hugged the pillow to your face. Natasha pulled the pillow away and you gave her a dirty look. “You know my mom,” you began. “I just didn’t want to disappoint her. I thought I would be able to find another excuse as to why he couldn’t make it to Christmas, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer after he missed Thanksgiving.” You turned to give Natasha a pleading look. “What do I do?” you asked.

“Well, I still think you oughta tell her,” Natasha admitted. “Or, you could bring home a fake boyfriend.”

Immediately, you shot up and gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean a fake boyfriend?”

“A blow up doll,” she rolled her eyes. “No, obviously you just get someone to pretend to be your boyfriend and then they pretend to break up with you, and you pretend to be sad, and then that’s it. Easy peasy.” Natasha shrugged her shoulders and stood up to pick up her phone from the kitchen counter as if what she suggested was a simple idea. You could hear her furiously typing in the keyboard as she walked away from you.

“Nat, you’ve officially gone bonkers.” However, the longer you thought about it, the more desperate you became. “How would I even find anyone? Everyone’s packing to go home. And on top of that, who would even be willing to pretend to be my boyfriend? They’d have to be really dumb, or really bored to agree.”

“Sure, I’m in.”

“Excuse me?” you asked incredulously.

“I said I’m in,” he repeated with a shrug of his shoulders.

A few minutes after Natasha suggested her idea, you heard a knock at your door. Natasha gave you a mischievous smirk as she opened the door and welcomed in the boy you’d been crushing on all semester. Steve was best friends with Natasha and her boyfriend and although you had hung out with them a few times, you always found yourself getting nervous around him. He was never anything but kind to you, always making sure you were included in the conversation and taking time to include you in the inside jokes.

Of course, Natasha knew about your crush and every so often would try to drop not so subtle hints to Steve. One time, Natasha and Bucky told you and Steve that the plan was to have dinner at 6:30 p.m. but didn’t show up until nearly 8. It was obvious that they were trying to set you up, but Steve never made a move and you didn’t want to be presumptuous, but at least he never made it awkward either. You knew Natasha was reeling inside at how perfectly things were falling into place.

“But why?” You asked, still unable to process what Steve was agreeing to.

“Oh does it matter?” Natasha asked with an eye roll. “You said you needed a boyfriend, and Steve volunteered. It’s perfect!” She took Steve’s hand and led him to the couch where you were sitting on and pushed him to sit beside you. He offered a sheepish smile and left enough distance between you two to be polite.

“Well,” Steve began, turning to face you. “Bucky’s going over to Nat’s over the holiday, and my folks are out of town, so I was just planning to stay on campus for the break.” Natasha coughed and gave Steve a look that you didn’t quite understand. Steve stuttered before adding, “But Natasha mentioned that you needed a boyfriend -- a fake boyfriend -- and I couldn’t leave you in need.” Steve looked down at his hands and back up at you. There was an unmistakable twinkle in his ocean blue eyes and for a second, you let yourself get lost in the idea of what it would be like to hold his hand in the December cold. Natasha rolled her eyes and filled the spot between the two of you.

“You two are hopeless.” She sighed, but a small smile still played on her lips. “Anyway, I’ve got it all planned out.” She turned to you first. “Since you never told your parents what your imaginary boyfriend’s name is, and every detail you’ve fed your mom is vague as hell, you can just fill in the blanks with Steve.”

Standing up, she pointed at Steve. “Okay, Rogers, your job is just to make the parents believe that you are absolutely head over heels for their kid.”

“Easy.” Steve said instantly and you caught him glance in your direction with a smile before turning back to Nat. You felt your cheeks heat up and you sank further back into the couch.

“The important thing is to keep your stories straight, and remember, the most believable lies are based on truth,” Natasha ended. She looked down at her watch. “Alright, Bucky’s waiting down in the lobby, and we need to go so we don’t miss our flight.” She pulled you and Steve in for a hug before heading to the door where her luggage was waiting. “You two have a very happy holiday. See you in the new year!”

As Steve shut the door behind Natasha, you found yourself feeling the butterflies that were hidden by the adrenaline from earlier. Steve turned to face you and gave you a comforting smile. “Look,” he began. “I just wanna be the best fake date you’ve ever had,” he joked.

“Well, you’re the only fake date I’ve ever had,” you laughed. Steve chuckled and you felt yourself grin. “Thanks, Steve, for doing this. You really don’t have to.” You looked down at your fidgeting fingers as you felt his gaze fall on you.

“I know,” he said softly. “I wanted to.”

The rest of the evening was spent planning. You put on the Charlie Brown Christmas special and ordered a pizza and began discussing every detail. You tried to think like your parents, wanting to have an answer for every single question they could ask. When was Steve’s birthday? What was your first date like? What’s your favorite pizza topping? Where did Steve grow up? It was like you were studying for an exam, except the longer you talked, the more you found yourself getting lost in the stories he told of Brooklyn, of his and Bucky’s teenage shenanigans, and it was all easy.

Three movies and a box of pepperoni pizza later, the two of you had settled onto the couch, still trying to think of any other possible stories to tell before you quickly drifted off into a tired slumber. The last thing you remember was Steve’s voice and his arm wrapping around you.

When you woke up it was to the sound of your phone ringing. You sat up to find yourself wrapped in a blanket. You scanned around the living room as you recalled the events of last night and found no trace of the empty pizza box and paper plates or the mugs of hot chocolate you and Steve went through last night. Warmth rose to your cheeks when you remembered that you fell asleep on him, and fell into a small panic when you realized it was him calling.

“Hello?” You answered with a yawn.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Steve answered. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

You smiled into the phone. “Yes, I did. Thank you for cleaning up, you didn’t have to --”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, I didn’t mind.” Sweetheart. He called you sweetheart as if it was the most natural thing to do. “Sorry, we never discussed nicknames, but it just came out,” he quickly added. “I just picked up some coffee, and I’ll be there in 15 to help you pack or anything before we go.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in a bit,” you hung up. You got yourself ready and answered the door for Steve. He handed you your coffee, two sugars, no cream, just the way you like it and you smiled as the scent of strong coffee hit your nose. Once you had everything packed, Steve grabbed your bag and the two of you made your way to his car and drove to your hometown. The drive was a few hours long, but Steve had a solid playlist full of karaoke songs that you loved, and the drive felt like it was not long enough.

The wreath on your parents’ door filled you with a sense of nostalgia. Or maybe it was nervousness? Butterflies? Whatever it was, the feeling settled heavily in your stomach as you rang the bell. You looked up at Steve, whose scarf was bundled tight around his neck, and his nose red from the cold, and he gave you an encouraging smile. “You ready?” he asked.

Before you could answer, the door swung open and you and Steve were enveloped in a tight embrace as your mother squealed in happiness. The holidays had begun, and there was no backing out now.

The first few days of the trip had gone by without a hitch, much to you and Steve’s surprise. Your parents did their best to embarrass you with silly stories about your childhood, and while at first you were filled with dread, the lopsided smile he gave you after finding out you once dressed as a McDonald’s Happy Meal box for Halloween made it worth it. Your dad asked the hard questions, asking what Steve’s plans for the future with you looked like and you found your hands fidgeting under the table before Steve’s hand found yours with a squeeze and told your dad that he couldn’t see a future without you in it and you began to picture what that would look like.

Everything was easy with Steve, in a way that it never was. You’d wake up in the morning and head downstairs to find him already awake and laughing with your mom and dad with a coffee waiting for you. After dinner you knew you’d find him sitting by the fire with a book in his hands. As you walked around town you’d spot things in the windows, little tchotchkes that made you think of him. Steve was growing roots in your family and it was as if he was meant to be there, another picture in the family scrapbook, another stocking hung on the fireplace.

Sweetheart became more common. And soon, so did darling and honey. They began to bleed into the quiet moments when you were alone, where you weren’t supposed to be pretending anymore. The soft smiles, the way his hand reached for yours without a single glance, the warmth of his arms wrapped around you. All of a sudden it didn’t feel like you were playing pretend anymore and you wondered if he noticed it too.

It was when you realized how easy it was to be with him that you realized how hard it would be to let him go. The thought of an inevitable end to your not-so-fake-anymore relationship weighed upon you like a blanket of snow, cold enough to snap you out of your fantasy. You were sitting by the tree with Steve the night of Christmas Eve, wrapping some last minute gifts for your family when you felt it.

The end was coming.

Steve must have felt it too, or felt something was off, because he reached for your hand almost instinctively. You hesitated before slipping your hand in his and when you looked up, you met his eyes. Just over a week ago, his eyes were just blue. But now, you realized, there was a storminess hiding in the blues of his eyes, like there was lightning behind his irises, but an ever-present stillness to them too. In this moment, there was concern mixed into the grays and blues, and your stomach lurched in a desire to forget your realization, to relax back into the rhythm and rightness of pretend, but Steve deserved more than a fake relationship and you owed it to him.

“Sweetheart,” he began. “What’s wrong?” The plea in his voice made it obvious that he suspected what was wrong. He was only asking to give you a chance to tell him that his suspicions were wrong. A last chance to abort and keep the charade going.

Pulling your hand out of his was the hardest thing you’ve had to do, and the instant chill on your skin where his calloused hand was touching was impossible to ignore. “This,” you muttered, unable to meet his eyes. “Steve, we can’t keep pretending like this, not when I have real feelings for you.” You finally looked up at him and kept going. You wouldn’t be able to finish if he interrupted, and you needed to be heard. “I can’t tie you down to a fake relationship, when you deserve to be with someone you actually are in love with. You’re an amazing friend for even agreeing to do this, but I don’t want to force you to be part of a mess that I put myself into.” You stood up, and finally added, “You can go home tonight. I’ll tell my parents the truth in the morning, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Hold on, I--” you interrupted him with a final, lingering kiss, hoping that the memory of it would be enough for you. You felt the hesitation in his fingers as he reached up to cup your face, trying to keep you where you were, before you pulled away.

Without looking back, you turned around and walked up the stairs, trying to convince the tremble in your fingers and the pounding in your heart that you made the right choice.

The next morning you woke up and for a few seconds, you laid in peace until the regrets of last night flooded over you. You dragged yourself up off your bed, trying to cheer yourself up by remembering that it was Christmas. Part of you hoped that you would see him downstairs, talking to your mom about her favorite cookie recipe, but when you walked into the kitchen and found your mom by herself, you knew he was really gone.

“Hey honey,” your mom exclaimed, wrapping you in a tight hug that suggested she knew something was wrong. “Merry Christmas” she said into your hair. After a moment, she finally let go and the tears that were threatening to spill over finally gave way and your mom reached out to brush them away. She pulled you back into her arms, and once you managed to steady your breathing, the two of you sat down.

“I heard you and Steve talking last night,” she admitted. You let out a strangled sob and your mom reached out to rub your back. “Honey, you could have just told me the truth. I love you, and you don’t need a relationship to validate that.” She gave you a small smile. “But when I saw the way you looked at each other, well I have to admit, it was nice to know someone would be here to keep loving you long after I’m gone.”

You set your head down against the table. “Well too bad Steve was only pretending to love me,” you sighed. “He deserves to love someone for real. I couldn’t hold him back from that. It was unfair.”

“Pretending?” She asked incredulously. “Sweetie, listen to me. That sweet boy was head over heels for you, and anyone could see it. The way he looked at you everytime you laughed, and every time he walked in a room and he always looked for you first, no one could fake being as in love as he clearly is with you.”

Finally lifting your head up, you wiped your tears with your sleeve. Maybe those moments you thought you were imagining were really there. Maybe he wasn’t pretending. Maybe you were an idiot for walking away from you last night. You stood up, ready to find him and apologize.

Feeling a rush of frenzy and determination, you ran upstairs to grab your keys and your coat, ready to ask your mom to drive you back to school so you can find him. Your heart was pounding in your ears and as you turned the knob to open your front door, you found yourself staring into a pair of stormy blue eyes.

“Steve?” your voice came out in a whisper. His hand was frozen mid-air, about to press the doorbell.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sorry, were you heading out?” he asked.

You snapped yourself out of the trance you were lost in. “Uh Y-yeah, I was on my way to see you, actually,” you admitted. You stepped out of the doorway to let him in and you both stood in the kitchen. He set the bag he was holding on the counter and he opened the box.

“Donut? The only donut shop open was like 30 minutes away,” he offered, smiling as if you didn’t just try to break his heart last night. He handed you one, a chocolate with sprinkles, your favorite, before pulling out one for himself and taking a bite. He motioned for you to sit with him and you followed. “Listen, I--”

“Steve, I’m --” you both started at the same time. “You go first,” you allowed.

He nodded before continuing. “I know last night, you asked me to leave, but I couldn’t. At least not without telling you how I feel. You told me that you had real feelings for me, and I do too. Hell, I’ve had real feelings for you. Long before these last two weeks. When Nat texted me that night, I knew I finally had the perfect opportunity to tell you how I felt, but when we got here, everything just felt so… so real, and I let myself forget that it wasn’t. At least not yet. No matter how much I wanted it to be.”

You set down your donut, suddenly feeling that hunger was the least important thing you were feeling at this moment. Not wanting to interrupt, you simply nodded as he continued.

“I should’ve told you a long time ago, that I really, really, really, like you. None of this has been pretend for me.” He looked into your eyes, pleading, as he tentatively reached for your hand. “I want to do this the right way, no games, no schemes, just you and me. The real thing.”

The storm in his eyes seemed to make way for light, and the bright blues that disappeared behind his eyelids were the last thing you noticed before you felt your lips fall onto his. His hand reached up and you felt the pad of his thumb brush against your cheek. Gently, as though any more pressure and you would crumble like snow. You pulled away with a sigh, Steve’s lips chasing after yours.

“Merry Christmas,” you breathed out.

“Merry Christmas.”

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chocoholicannanymous · 3 years ago

Text

Concepts of Insanity (Glee)

AN: No proofreading whatsoever. Subject to rewrite if I change my mind about it. Take it or leave it.

Concepts of Insanity

“Kurt? Oh, there you are, good. We have an emergency!”

Kurt smiles a little as he finishes up rearranging the flowers. He adores Isabelle, he really does, but she's a bit...excitable. There's always an emergency, or a disaster, or a catastrophe. So far today there's been four, unless he's miscounting; a lose hem, a missing delivery of non-alcoholic champagne, Isabelle almost fainting from forgetting to eat, and the flowers he's currently fixing not being enough something or other. He's actually kind of curious what it is this time.

He gives the flowers a last look, nods with satisfaction and turns around. The smile on his lips dies the second he meets Isabelle's eyes. This isn't a normal emergency.

“What's wrong?”

“The musicians are here, only the vocalist is currently throwing up to the point where they've called an ambulance.”

Kurt winces. That doesn't sound good for whoever it is. Also it really doesn't sound good for them. Isabelle had gone out on a limb with the small ensemble she'd hired for the event, deciding to make the music more than a background by having some songs performed with vocals. To have the vocalist missing would throw off the setlist. Maybe not enough for most people to notice, but at an event like this? Someone would definitely notice.

Especially since word seemed to have spread.

“I've spent the last ten minutes on the phone, and there's not a single vocalist to be had. This is so bad, Kurt! I'm never going to hear the end of this.”

Kurt hesitates, uncomfortable with voicing his possible solution, but deciding to offer it up anyway. It's Isabelle.

(Plus Rachel will never forgive him if he doesn't and she finds out.)

“I know it's not what you were aiming at, but my roommate is a NYADA student, and I know that most of the songs you picked out is in her wheelhouse. I could call her? If she answers she could hop in a cab and be here in 30 minutes.”

Isabelle looks a bit hesitant, but nods.

“Please do. I'll pay for the cab too, obviously. Check back with me in 5 minutes?”

Kurt agrees and hurries out to a silent space, phone in hand already dialing as he walks. There's no response for his first call, and Kurt leaves a hurried voice mail for Rachel to call him asap as it's an emergency. He then sends the same message as a text before trying to call again. He manages to squeeze in a total of five calls before he has to return to Isabelle, without response.

Maybe Rachel's in the shower again. Or singing. Or on a date with Brody.

“I'm sorry, Isabelle. I couldn't get hold of her.”

“Never mind, I have an idea. Can you do it?”

Kurt stares at her, not quite believing he heard her right.

“Me?” She nods and he shakes his head. “Isabelle, you've never even heard me sing!”

“True. But honey, I know how good you are with fashion. For you to chose music over that you have to be either insanely talented or just insane. So, will you do it?”

Kurt wants to shake his head again. What she's suggesting is crazy. Yes, Kurt can sing, but... His focus on music is more and more looking like insanity. He's just gotten rejected by Carmen Tibideaux a second time, for crying out loud. “Devoid of complexity and depth” echoes through his skull.

Except. This is Isabelle asking. His fairy godmother of sorts. He owes her.

“Are you sure? I'll do it, if you really want, but I'm not going to be anywhere as good as whoever you'd hired,” or Rachel for that matter, “and I don't want to ruin this for you.”

“You are going to be amazing. Thank you, Kurt, you're a lifesaver!”

And with that Isabelle floats off, leaving Kurt in a dazed state. He's going to panic, sooner or later, but for now he's still too stunned for it.

Right. His first action has to be to talk to the ensemble. The plan was to have the vocalist on three sets of three songs throughout the evening, but he's not entirely clear on what numbers had finally been picked. He will probably need to review lyrics up until the guests arrive, provided he can actually manage all of them. He's got a good range, yes, but that's not everything.

Oh, and he should swing by Isabelle's office and nab the blue west he'd spotted earlier – he'd dressed to fade against the wallpaper, not to be seen.

The first set goes well, as does the second. By the third and final he's lost enough of his nerves to let Isabelle drag him out on the floor instead of going off to hide as he'd initially planned. Several people drop by to talk, and he gets more than a few compliments. Maybe it's more about looking good to Isabelle than about actually liking it, but Kurt will take it anyway.

“So, you must be not just a talented singer but talented in fashion too for Isabelle to have taken you under her wing. Do you study fashion or music?”

The woman, Nadia something, asking sounds genuine and so Kurt gives her a small smile and answers as pleasantly as he can.

“Neither actually. I'm applying to NYADA though.”

There's a flash of something in her face, but Kurt can't quite make out what it is.

“For the spring semester? Ah.” She hesitates, sends a look towards where Isabelle is talking animatedly about something, and then looks at Kurt again.

“Can I be honest? Carmen Tibideaux is a very talented woman, in everything she does, and she's got an eye for picking out talent. However, she's also got a bit of a reputation.

“She loves to discover new talent that others overlook. Except every now and again she'll go about it in a rather underhanded way. She'll have someone audition, someone talented but a little raw around the edges. Someone with a ton of talent but a weak resumé, often with a little less self-esteem than most performers. She'll praise them and then turn them down. Most of the time they'll come back, looking for a second chance – she said they were great, right? Surely that means they'll get the part sooner or later, if they just approach it right.”

Kurt swallows. It sounds a little too familiar for comfort.

“Sometimes she'll turn them down both a second and third time, and then she'll put them on the spot, giving them another chance as long as they step out of their comfort zone and perform to her standards. And then she'll take them, and she'll own them. They'll go through their whole careers claiming they owe it all to her.”

She looks Kurt in the eyes, sincerity radiating out of her – but Kurt knows how little that means, in these circles �� and a kind expression on her face.

“I'm not saying that's you, but for you to be applying to the spring semester, with your level of talent... If she's doing it to you, you should know you're not the first, and I doubt you'd be the last.

“Any school would be well served to have you as a student, I think. I already know you're talented, and as I know Isabelle I also know you have to be hardworking. Plus, seeing as that ensemble always works with a female vocalist I'm assuming something happened to have you step in at the last minute, meaning you stand up to pressure.

“NYADA is not the only school in New York for a young man like you, and I'd argue that it's not the best either. Think about what I've said, will you? And thank you again for a very enjoyable performance.”

It's only years of pretending in the face of bullies and a worried father that allows Kurt to pull of a believable goodbye and graceful exit. After this he's definitely hiding in Isabelle's office, damn it.

When Kurt comes back to the loft it's late and he wants nothing more to fall into bed, nighttime routines be damned. But Rachel's sitting on the couch, waiting for him judging from the expectant look on her face.

“I tried to call you.” It comes out a little flat, but Kurt doesn't have the energy to pretend. He needed her, called an emergency damn it, and she hasn't even texted him back in the six hours since his frantic calling.

“I heard, but I was busy practicing my number for tomorrow.” She doesn't even look sorry.

“Oh? I thought you said you didn't have any assignments for tomorrow.” That was why he'd felt safe calling her, after all.

She just waves a hand, clearly not too bothered.

“Nothing official, no, but that's no reason not to be ready to perform. I'm sure there will be an opening for me to dazzle my classmates.” And she goes on to describe the songs she's considered, and who's done them, and why her version is better, and Kurt just...tunes her out.

She hasn't even asked what he wanted. It's as if the thought hasn't even passed her mind. Well. If she's not interested then he's not going to waste his time telling her – especially not since she's bound to get upset over losing an opportunity to perform for an actual audience. He's also not going to waste his time listening to her go on about what she'd done instead of checking in on him.

“I'm going to bed.”

“Kurt! I need your input on this, surely bed can wait a bit?” When he shakes his head her face hardens. “Fine, be that way. NYADA is hard, you know. It takes dedication. Maybe if you showed a little more of that you would have gotten accepted.”

Kurt shoves down the desire to slap her and bites out a “goodnight” before stalking off to bed. He can't believe she went there. Oh wait, he can. It's so Rachel, to just look at herself and ignore everything else. Show more dedication? Devoid of complexity and depth. Fuck her. Fuck them both.

Kurt had knocked his audition out of the park. Rachel and madam Tibideaux both had admitted that. Meanwhile Rachel had choked. Yet he'd been rejected while Rachel fucking Berry swanned around NYADA claiming to be dedicated. She never should have gotten accepted based on her audition. And somehow he just knows that there's no way she'd admit that Kurt should have been given that spot, not her.

As for madam Tibideaux and her “I rarely give anyone a second chance and if I do it's on my terms”... Bah! Rachel had harassed her way into her second chance. Hell, she'd recruited several others to also harass the madam on her behalf.

But somehow Kurt reapplying was the foul thing here. Right.

Maybe it was time he looked at options other than NYADA. That woman at the vogue event, she'd said that other schools might be a better fit for him. She'd sounded like she knew what she was talking about. Unlike Kurt, honestly, who'd pinned his hopes on NYADA based on Rachel. Hindsight has him questioning if he'd been slipped something, because leaving his college education up to whatever Rachel wanted? Insanity.

Well. Insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result, right? Clearly it's time to change his approach.

O--o---o--O

A week later Rachel comes home from the NYADA Winter Showcase bubbling about her success and how she's taken them all by storm. She makes a snide comment or two about how Kurt should have been able to see it for himself, had he taken the ticket she'd gone through so much trouble to acquire for him instead of doing whatever (it's called work), and Kurt just nods. He doesn't really care, but. He has to at least pretend to listen to preserve peace in the loft.

“Oh, I almost forgot! Madam Tibideaux asked after you.”

Kurt stills like a dog scenting prey. This he wants to hear.

“Oh?”

“Yes, apparently she was considering giving you another chance at applying. I don't know why she had to do it tonight, as it's for NYADA students and you're not, but she did. You should probably contact her. If you apologize properly she might still be open to it.”

Rachel looks at him, waiting for a reaction and clearly not pleased with what she's seeing.

“Well?”

“I'll think about it, Rachel. Calm down.”

And he will. Only he's not too eager to apologize to madam Tibideaux, or give her another chance to toy with him and probably reject him (he didn't show up for what she had planned, after all). It all sounds very much like what Nadia described at the vogue event. He listened. He might not have liked what he heard, or wanted to believe it, but he listened. In more than one way.

Over the past seven days he's written half a dozen applications to various music schools in New York, and sent them out. His current favorite is the New School, where a tour of the campus has given him a very good vibe. He'd be happy there, he thinks, and they might be happy with him. At least that's his take from meeting a couple of faculty members, one of the more prestigious of which just so happens to be Nadia.

Who would have guessed that doing a favor for Isabelle would lead to this? He might just owe her even more by now. Fairy godmother indeed.

~ The End ~

#chocoholic fics #kurt hummel #isabelle wright #fixit

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 18, second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Hey OP where’s the funny header gif for this post? Sorry, it was murdered by an angst demon and the framing of these shots.

My Found Family Came to Find Me

Continuing our flashback from last time, we see Baby Wei Ying up a tree, refusing to come down because he's afraid there are dogs. Eventually he falls out of the tree, like a dumbass a child, and Yanli tries but fails to catch him.

Unlike his grownup counterpart, Baby Wei Ying doesn't pretend he's unhurt when he is hurt. I'd like to put the change at Yu Ziyuan's door, but actually he admits to being hurt during his Gusu summer - he mimics Lan Zhan's stoicism when they're getting beaten, but it doesn't come naturally to him, and he whines a lot afterwards.

By the time of the Animatronic Dog incident, however, he's laughing off obvious injuries that have secret trauma behind them. By the time he comes back, coreless, from the burial mounds, he won't confide in anyone about his hurts any more, except possibly Wen Qing.

Yanli carries Wei Ying, in a sequence that will be echoed much later in his life when Lan Zhan carries him (gifset here). While they head back, she tells him that Jiang Cheng has a bad temper and to ignore whatever mean things he says. This will also be echoed in the future, when Wei Wuxian says it to Lan Zhan after their argument with Jiang Cheng in the shrine.

Yanli also explains that Jiang Cheng loved his dogs and that he's been very sad since Jiang Fengmian sent them away, demonstrating once again that Jiang Fengmian is a terrible father. Yanli says that Jiang Cheng will be happy to have a friend with him, though. This kind of makes Wei Wuxian's role in Jiang Cheng's life "replacement dog."

Jiang Cheng, after getting over this particular snit, got worried about Wei Wuxian and woke up Yanli to find him, and then went wandering around in the dark like a dumbass a child, and is banged up and crying when the other two find him. Yanli encourages him to apologize to Wei Wuxian and he does, which will not happen again until the very end of the show.

They all smile and laugh together, as Wei Ying looks to Yanli to guide him through the insanity that his life has suddenly become.

(more behind the cut!)

They head back to Lotus Pier in a sweet montage of walking and smiling together, with Jiang Cheng carrying the world's most beautiful candle holder with the world's most wind-resistant candle in it, to light their way back. Back in the present day for a brief moment, Jiang Cheng pretends to sleep and listens to his sister insisting that the three of them should always stay together, while a single tear rolls down the side of his face.

Soup is Love, Chapter 1 of 1000

Then we head to the past again. In Jiang Cheng & Wei Ying's now-shared room, Wei Ying sits on the bed trying to figure out how to deal with his grumpy new roommate.

Wei Ying is unsure what to do when confronted with pajama game this strong. Tiny Jiang Cheng is already a fashion king.

Then he tells Jiang Cheng he's not going to narc him out to the clan leader, since it was his own fault that he hurt his leg. This is all Jiang Cheng needs to hear to decide Wei Ying is all right, and he says that he will help Wei Ying chase away dogs in the future. In fact, Wei Wuxian will protect Jiang Cheng from punishment basically forever, while Jiang Cheng will continue to threaten Wei Wuxian with dogs...forever.

They shake hands on their new understanding and then jump up and down laughing, Wei Ying's leg being all better now, apparently. When Yanli arrives (carrying a tray of...can you guess? I'll let you guess), they stop jumping. Wei Ying dives in to give Jiang Cheng a little tickle/embrace in an adorable moment that would have me saying "oh, my ovaries!" if I hadn't surgically sent my ovaries to hell a few years ago.

Yanli introduces Wei Ying to the emotional and gustatorial miracle that is her lotus and ribs soup. He hesitates a long time before tucking in because he's so unused to being fed.

Consent? I Don’t Even Know Her

The flashback wraps up with Yanli conked out on the table from the drugs in the incense burner, while Wei Wuxian, who is somehow unaffected despite sitting almost as close to the smoke as she was, checks on her. Jiang Cheng and his Uggs period-appropriate sock thingies get out of bed to come stand with Wei Wuxian, and have feelings about sending Yanli away after she JUST said she doesn't want to be parted from them.

Wei Wuxian: If she didn't want us to do this, she shouldn't have signed that blanket consent-to-medical-treatment form. Jiang Cheng: Wen Qing made me sign one of those plus a durable power of attorney, is that bad?

This episode is all about people overriding each others' agency and making massively important decisions without the consent of the people who will be affected. But in a feudal context, it's not a violation, no matter how it feels to the person being controlled. In feudal life, your body belongs to your lord -- your sect leader, in the world of CQL. Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng's choices are overridden by their clan leader's final command to Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian's core is arguably Jiang Fengmian's property--Wei Wuxian certainly sees it that way, just as his hand was Yu Ziyuan's to take if she wished.

The brothers tenderly tuck Yanli into bed in the rolly cart and hand her off to Song Lan. They talk about how important it is to get her to Lanling and that she's probably going to be mad, as they thank Song Lan for helping them.

Yanli listens while she sleeps and, in what is becoming a trademark Jiang move, lets a single tear roll down the side of her face. Jiang Cheng points out that Yanli never gets mad at Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian is like, true dat.

How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

Song Lan is always so emotional about every damn thing, I love him. Here he's like OH GOD NO DON'T FORMALLY THANK ME! STOP!!!

Then he starts to ask Wei Wuxian to pass a message to Song Xingchen for him, but then decides not to say anything, making it super obvious that they fought and aren't together.

Wei Wuxian reacts to this with confusion and distress, probably because he doesn't want to imagine ever having a breakup with his own soulmate. Which he soon will be having. But possibly he's just upset that his OTP broke up.

After Song Lan takes off, Jiang Cheng gives Wen Qing a rude & perfunctory thank-you bow, turning away before she can return it. Wei Wuxian tells her not to take it to heart - basically everyone who deals with Jiang Cheng gets a version of the "ignore what he says" speech. She says she understands and that in his place she would have behaved worse, which is so totally not true.

Then she asks Wei Wuxian if he's sure about the core transfer (not in so many words, because the script is being kind of being vague about it, without actually hiding what's happening). His reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.

Then he and Jiang Cheng walk off, with Jiang Cheng giving us a rear view that had me googling Wang Zhuocheng's fashion shoots to determine if that wagon he's draggin’ is really as delightful as this belt makes it look. Alas, there is not a wealth of photographic evidence for this research, as compared to, for example, photos of Xiao Zhan's outstanding ass.

Wen Qing and Wen Ning see them off, with Wen Qing wishing they valued their lives more. Although, what she and Wen Ning are doing is massive treason, so their lives will be pretty much forfeit if they're caught, so...

The Sunshot Campaign of Like 60 Dudes

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng walk up the mountain for the whole beginning of the Sunshot campaign, which...okay. Maybe it's like Dunkirk or The Witcher where they intercut stuff that is happening in different timeframes, which is one of my least favorite new film style thingies.

You know, for a guy Wei Wuxian constantly calls "peacock," Jin Ziyuan really doesn't wear a lot of adornment; just some subtle metalwork on his belt with no dangly bits at all, and a single reasonably-sized hair crown. Compared to the extremely fancy Lan Wangji he's almost plain. We already know that Wei Wuxian is a massive hypocrite when it comes to his idea of a perfect boy, however.

So, this is the Lanling Jin army, which consists of literally 60 guys, including the ones on the stairs and Jin Zixuan and Douchebag Dad. How are they going to fight a war with this tiny group? Why do they have such a big plaza? Hasn't anybody on this production learned CGI cloning?

That’s better.

Nie Mingjue and his best bitch Baxia make quick work of the 4 Wen guys who were assigned to hold the Unclean Realm.

Hello, Daddy Da-Ge!

Squeeee, it's Lan Wangji! He's taking back Cloud Recesses! Ooooohhh we've missed you Lan Wangji.

Look guys he's here! Look how beautiful he is. He's looking at the gate of cloud recesses and thinking thoughts that Lan Xichen or Wei Wuxian could probably see in his bewitching eyes if they were here to see him, which they aren't. But at least he is here!

....and now he's gone again. *cries*

Hares On The Mountains

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian continue roaming prettily around this pretty mountainside. The locations in this show are such eye candy.

Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains If I was a young lass I’d soon go a hunting

Jiang Cheng starts to have doubts about the whole Baoshan Sanren thing. Wei Wuxian's reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.

Then we have just the tenderest blindfolding scene, (more gifs here), which is fodder for your ChengXian dreams, if you have those.

Here's a good place for a sidebar about what is and isn't incest. Whee! In the CDrama context, relationships tend to be more clearly defined than in western media. The mechanism of confession & acceptance means that people either are or are not in a romantic relationship, with few grey areas. So a character can literally say "we grew up as brother and sister, but now we are dating" and when someone looks startled they just say "there's no blood relation" and everyone is like "cool cool" and that's the new definition of the relationship.

For a strong example of this, the extremely wonderful Go Ahead is about a contemporary family in which a girl and two boys, who are not blood relatives, are all raised together, and call each other brother and sister. When they become adults, they and everyone around them expect the girl (now a woman) to marry one of the two men who have been her brothers, while whichever one she doesn't choose will carry on as her sibling. It's treated as the most natural, logical thing in the world; the only question is whether she wants to make that transition, and with whom.

Looked at through this lens, Wei Wuxian's relationships with his adoptive siblings have just as much potential to turn into romances as his relationships with his friends do, and there's nothing creepy about it. As such you can expect my meta to always get into ChengXian moments without treating it as a wrong or forbidden love. Hopeless, of course, because Jiang Cheng is such a prick the power of WangXian is stronger, but that's a different matter.

What is wrong is wearing this fantastic hat & veil combination when the most fashionable person on the mountain is blindfolded and can't see it.

In the course of this blindfolded encounter with Wen Qing, Jiang Cheng gets to kneel before a powerful woman, be led along by a length of silk that's placed in his hand, and then knocked the fuck out and operated on. He'll wake up in a hotel room in a tub full of ice with "we took your kidney" written on the mirror in lipstick, and he'll love every minute of it.

Soundtrack: 1. Still Fighting it, by Ben Folds 2. Hares on the Mountain, by Steeleye Span

Writing Prompt: The NEXT time somebody blindfolds Jiang Cheng

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #chengxian #cql #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs

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