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moomuzan · 3 days ago

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THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME ━━━━

whorezai :: cheater!tachihara

( ༊*·˚ ) 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙊𝙉𝙂𝙎 i don’t love you by my chemical romance :: bulls in the bronx by pierce the veil :: zombie by day6 :: loml by taylor swift

━━ 𝙃𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝘼 𝘾𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙍 „with them, he could be anyone, everyone, except the man you thought you loved.“ wc: 3.3k

━━ 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 none, regular angst, no comfort, cheating, dazai being dazai i guess, this one i headcanon so much, he‘d be such a bad partner imo

dedicated to: @saoirseyun

join my taglist @amvpk01 @sophistication-as @ezzyrainrunaway @howls-fallen--stars @plutouran @marsaiki @lovingyouat4am @xumyuii @cultluvin @cryptidfuckerofficial @dazaistn @dietcolavape @grayshadeofpurple @naviiq @vasarii @poekaryote

Amid this haven of darkness—her bedroom, where thick curtains devoured the neon glow of Yokohama’s restless streets—dim streaks of light sliced through the gloom, revealing the chaos: tangled sheets, discarded clothing, and the faint scent of perfume lingering in the stale air. Dazai sat on the edge of the bed, shirt unbuttoned and tie hanging limp around his neck. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands limp at his sides, as though the weight of his thoughts had momentarily anchored him. Behind him, she slept, her body curled in soft, unconscious surrender, her breathing steady and shallow.

Closing his eyes he inhaled deeply, but it did nothing to quiet the storm within him. The warmth of her body still clung to his skin like a ghost—a warmth that felt alien, temporary, meaningless. He didn’t even remember her name. It had been spoken earlier, murmured between coy laughter and the clink of glasses, but it had slipped from his mind as easily as it had entered.

Earlier that evening, he'd found her in one of those dimly lit bars he gravitated to when the emptiness inside him grew too loud. He hadn’t planned to go out, but as he sat alone in the apartment, watching the minutes tick by in deafening silence, the need to escape had become unbearable. You were there, of course, tucked away in the bedroom, your form faintly visible behind the cracked door. He’d caught glimpses of you as you moved—folding laundry, brushing your hair, the mundane rituals of domestic life that only amplified his sense of alienation.

Although he knew he could have stayed, could have walked into the room, sat beside you, and pretended to be the man you still foolishly believed he could be, he couldn’t bear the weight of your hope, couldn’t stomach the way you looked at him with those tired but unwavering eyes, as if you saw something in him worth saving. So, naturally, he’d left.

Dark, discreet, filled with people who weren’t interested in asking questions—the bar was the kind of place he liked. He’d taken a seat at the counter, nursing a drink he didn’t particularly care for, and surveyed the room with his usual detached curiosity. That’s when he saw her. She wasn’t remarkable, not in any way that mattered, but she had smiled at him, her lipstick-painted lips curling just so, and that had been enough. Still, the woman was easy. Not just in the way she leaned in close, her hand brushing his arm as she laughed at something he said, but in the way she didn’t ask for anything. Not his name, not his story, not even the illusion of sincerity. She wanted him for the same reason he sought her out: to fill a void, if only for a moment.

It wasn’t long before they left the bar together, her arm looped through his as though they were lovers rather than strangers. He didn’t remember what they talked about on the way to her apartment—if they talked at all. It didn’t matter. The act was always the same. The details blurred together into a monotonous rhythm of fleeting touches and shallow breaths.

And yet, there had been a moment, brief and fleeting, when he’d sought you in her. It wasn’t conscious, not at first. It was instinctual, an ache buried deep within him that he rarely acknowledged. The way her fingers brushed against his jaw, the way she murmured his name—he let himself pretend, for the briefest of seconds, that it was you. But the illusion shattered almost as soon as it formed, leaving behind a bitter taste in his mouth.

You weren’t here. You would never be here, in a room like this, in a moment like this. And maybe that was why he came to places like this, why he sought out women who were nothing like you. With them, he could be anyone—everyone—except the man you thought you loved.

But Osamu Dazai, the man he was, didn’t stay in that moment of longing for long. He didn’t allow himself to. Instead, he leaned into the guilt, welcomed it like an old friend. The guilt was his anchor, the only thing that tethered him to a world that often felt so distant, so unreal. It was the one thing he could still feel, and though he hated it, he also needed it. Without it, he feared he might vanish entirely.

While the other woman had been eager, pliant, her lips tracing the curve of his neck as her hands roamed over his skin, he’d let her take him apart, piece by piece, but even as her nails raked against his back, he felt nothing. It was mechanical, a performance they both participated in but neither truly believed in. Every kiss, every whispered word, every practiced movement—it was all an imitation of something real, a hollow mimicry of passion.

Once it was over, once it was gone, silence settled where chaos had drawn, and she’d fallen asleep almost immediately, her breathing soft and even, her body warm against his. Yet the man couldn’t sleep. He never could, not in places like this, not after nights like this. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor as though the answers to his endless questions might be hidden there.

He ran a hand down his face, pausing at his jaw, where her lips had been not long ago. The sensation lingered, faint but persistent, and it filled him with a strange, hollow ache. He hated it—the way her touch stayed with him, the way it seemed to seep into his skin like a stain he couldn’t wash away. But he hated himself more, hated the choices that had led him here, hated the emptiness that drove him to keep making them.

Finally, he stood, moving with the quiet precision of a man who had learned to leave without waking anyone. He dressed slowly, methodically, his movements as calculated as everything else he did. His tie hung loose around his neck, his shirt still wrinkled, but he didn’t bother fixing either. What was the point?

The walk back to your shared apartment was agonizingly slow. The streets of Yokohama were quiet at this hour, the city caught in the fragile stillness that came just before dawn.

He lit a cigarette as he walked, letting the sharp burn of the smoke fill his lungs and distract him from the faint perfume that clung to his clothes. He thought of you as he smoked, not with longing or love, but with the same detached fascination he always felt when it came to you. You were his partner, the person he came home to, but even that word-partner-felt foreign in his mouth. What were you to him, really? An anchor? A habit? Or just another part of his endless game, something to keep him entertained in between the nights he lost himself to strangers?

By the time he reached the door, the sun was beginning to creep over the horizon, casting pale light over the city. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob, before pushing it open. The apartment was quiet, the air heavy with the silence that had become normal between you. You were there, as he knew you would be, sitting on the couch with a blanket draped over your shoulders. The soft light of the lamp illuminated your face, making the dark circles under your eyes more prominent. You didn't look at him, your gaze fixed on the cup of tea in your hands, but he could feel the weight of your awareness. You always knew when he came home.

While closing the door behind him with a deliberate softness, the click of the latch echoed loud in the oppressive quiet. For a moment, he just stood there, watching you. You were beautiful in a way that made his chest ache-not because he loved you, but because he knew he could never love you the way you deserved. He wasn't built for that kind of devotion. His life was a maze of manipulation and power plays, his heart a wasteland he had long since abandoned.

"You're up late," he said finally, his voice casual, almost teasing, as if he had just returned from a harmless night out with friends. The lie was so practiced it came effortlessly, slipping from his tongue like a well-worn melody.

You didn't look up. "So are you," you replied simply, your tone devoid of accusation, but also of warmth.

He moved into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and taking his time to drink it. The tension between you hung in the air, thick and suffocating, but Dazai thrived in tension. It was his playground, his stage, and he played his part flawlessly. When he finally turned to face you, his smirk was firmly in place, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mix of arrogance and amusement.

"You're not going to ask where l've been?" he said, the question light and mocking, designed to provoke.

Setting your cup down on the coffee table, your movements were slow and deliberate, before finally meeting his gaze. Your eyes were tired, but not with the kind of exhaustion that sleep could cure. It was the exhaustion of someone who had been fighting a losing battle for far too long.

"What's the point?" you said, your voice steady but tinged with quiet resignation. "You'll just lie to me."

For a fleeting second, so brief you thought you had imagined it, something flickered in his expression—something that looked almost like regret. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that infuriating smirk that made you want to scream and cry and leave all at once. He moved closer, his steps unhurried, until he was standing in front of the couch, looking down at you with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

"Lie to you?" he echoed, his voice low and almost playful. "Have I ever lied to you, love?"

You laughed then, a bitter, humorless sound that cut through the air like a knife. "Every time you walk through that door smelling like another woman," you said quietly. "That's a lie."

Tilting his head, he studied you with the same detached curiosity he might have given to a puzzle or a particularly interesting opponent. "And yet you're still here," he said, his tone almost gentle, as if he were pointing out a simple fact rather than delivering a cruel truth.

A truth that made you look away, your eyes focusing on the mug on the table, the faint steam rising from it already beginning to fade. "I don't know why I stay," you admitted softly.

But he knew. He always knew. You stayed because leaving would mean admitting defeat, because walking away from him would feel like tearing out a piece of yourself. He was your poison, and you drank him willingly, knowing full well the damage he caused.

Dazai knelt in front of you then, his hand resting lightly on your knee, his touch both a comfort and a trap. "You stay," he said softly, his voice laced with something almost tender, „because you need me as much as I need you."

And you hated him for it, hated the way he could make you feel so small, so powerless, and yet so completely his. However, most of all, you hated the way he was right. Because no matter how much it hurt, no matter how many nights you spent waiting for him to come home, you couldn't bring yourself to leave. He was your ruin, and you loved him for it.

You stared at the ceiling, wide awake, the darkness pressing down like an unbearable weight. The world outside was silent, but the inside of your chest roared—an endless cacophony of questions, doubts, and raw, unfiltered grief. Beside you, Tachihara lay motionless, his breath even, his body still. You hated the way it looked like peace.

But you knew better.

The man next to you wasn’t sleeping, either. He hadn’t slept properly since the day you confronted him, since the truth you had both been circling for weeks finally spilled into the light. You wondered what haunted him now—the memory of her hands on him, or the sight of your face when you had seen the truth written in black-and-white on his phone.

And what haunted you? Was it the message? Or the way his voice had sounded when he answered, “I’ve been seeing her for a few months,” as if it was some minor detail, as if time made any difference to the wound it had left in your chest? Was it the fact that he hadn’t even flinched when you asked? Or was it the part of you that still ached for him, even now, even after everything?

How cruel it was, to love someone who had already ruined you.

Tachihara lay still beside you, his muscles tense, his body heavy with the weight of your proximity. He could feel your presence, feel your anger and heartbreak radiating off of you like heat. He wanted to reach out, to touch you, to say something that would shatter this unbearable silence. But what was there to say?

Sorry.

The word sat on the tip of his tongue, heavy and bitter, but he couldn’t force it out. What good was sorry? What did it even mean? It wouldn’t erase what he had done. It wouldn’t take away the betrayal or the image of her name on his phone. It wouldn’t make you trust him again.

And yet, regret consumed him, burning through his chest like fire. It was strange, the way regret worked. How it could lie dormant, hidden beneath layers of justifications and excuses, only to erupt when you least expected it. He had told himself it didn’t mean anything—that what he had done with her was separate from what he had with you. That you were different, that you were home. But now, as he lay beside you, drowning in your silence, he realized how naïve that had been.

You thought about asking him if he regretted it. The question lingered on your tongue like poison, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak it. Part of you didn’t want to know the answer.

Because what if he said no?

What if he looked you in the eye and told you it had been worth it? What if he said that she had given him something you never could? The thought made your stomach twist, but it wasn’t the worst possibility. No, the worst, the cruelest option was if he were to say yes. That he would tell you he regretted it, that it had been a mistake, that it hadn’t meant anything. Because then, you would have to wonder why. Why he had done it, why he had risked everything for something meaningless. Why you weren’t enough to make him stay loyal, to make him want only you.

And that question, you realized, was one you couldn’t bear to ask.

Tachihara thought about leaving. The idea had been circling in his mind for days now, an escape route he kept coming back to when the weight of it all became too much. Maybe, just maybe, it would be better this way. If he left, you wouldn’t have to see him every day and be reminded of what he’d done. You could start over, find someone who wouldn’t hurt you the way he had. Someone who deserved you. Yet, somehow, leaving felt like running, and running wasn’t something he allowed himself to do. Not in work, not in life, and certainly not with you. Not being ready to give up, even if part of him knew he should, he wasn’t ready to let you go, to walk away from the only person who had ever made him feel whole.

And that was the cruelest part of it all. He had betrayed you, hurt you in a way he couldn’t take back. But he still loved you. God, he loved you.

And yet, love didn’t feel like it could be enough anymore.

In between this hungry emptiness, you tried to remember the person you had been before him. Before his sharp smiles and warm hands, before the way he made you feel like the world was finally something you could bear. You had been lonely, yes, but you had been safe. And now?

Now you felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into an abyss you didn’t know how to cross. This man had been your anchor, your constant, your home. And now he was the storm, the thing tearing you apart piece by piece.

Tachihara wondered if you hated him. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. In fact, he almost wished you did. Hatred would be easier than this unbearable silence, this suffocating distance between you. Hatred was something he could understand, something he could face head-on.

However, you didn’t hate him. He could see it in the way you still lingered in the same room, the way you hadn’t told him to leave, even when you had every right to. And somehow, that made it worse. Because, in the end, if you didn’t hate him, it meant you still cared. It meant he had broken something precious, something that might never be whole again.

And for what? For a distraction? For a fleeting moment of escape from the weight of his own insecurities? The thought made him sick.

As you rolled onto your side, your back still facing him, you closed your eyes. You weren’t sure if you were trying to shut him out or if you were just trying to shut yourself in. Unapologetically , your mind wandered to the things you wanted to say to him. How badly you wanted to scream at him, to ask him why, to demand answers to questions you didn’t know how to phrase.

But you stayed silent. Not because you didn’t care, but because you cared too much.

Words felt useless now.

Turning his head to look at you, his chest ached with the weight of everything he wanted to say. He wanted to tell you that he was sorry, that he would take it all back if he could. He wanted to tell you that you were the only thing that had ever felt real to him, the only thing that had ever mattered.

But the words caught in his throat, tangled up in his guilt and his shame. He didn’t deserve to say them.

So he stayed silent, listening to the sound of your breathing, wondering if you were awake, wondering if you were thinking about him. About her. About whether he was worth saving.

In the end, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched on, heavy and unyielding, until it became something alive, something that filled the space between you like a living, breathing thing.

And maybe that was the cruelest part of all. Not the betrayal, not the guilt, not even the regret.

It was the silence.

A/N this is a re-do of my old cheating fic but sadder? and i added tachihara because i saw a delicious edit on tiktok… i still have to write my yandere fic that got requested like four times? maybe next week since university has started again and i am already not having it, dedicated this to @/saoirseyun because i am down bad.

yours, ella

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pomefioredove · 3 days ago

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May I have a sugar cookie, #14, with sprinkles and marshmallows? Thank you (^×^)

read an actual book today so I feel less constipated with my writing. thank you everyone for patience!!

order #14, sugar with sprinkles and marshmallows

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ it's my honor

tropes: roommate AU, hurt/comfort characters: silver additional info: romantic or platonic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu

Perhaps it was pity, perhaps it was kindness.

You can never be too sure at Night Raven College. But after months of living and studying and working here, you've taught yourself not to question good things.

It's January, and it's cold.

The warning of a blizzard is tacked to your door after there's already snow up to your knees, late in usual Crowley fashion.

When Lilia offers you a room in Diasomnia for the week, you say yes.

You had just thought he meant a room in Diasomnia. As in, your own.

Not Silver's.

"Are you comfortable?" he asks, for the thousandth time.

Despite his demeanor, calm and quiet as ever, you can sense the restless anxiety in his room tonight.

He's been like this since you and Grim were left at his door.

There's no doubt in your mind that Lilia hadn't asked nor warned him of the coming visitors. "I'm alright,"

"Not too cold?" he crosses his arms, and looks rather uncomfortable. It makes your stomach twist with guilt.

"No, it's fine. Thank you for having us,"

Grim is already snoring at the end of the bed, somehow hogging all of the blankets, despite his small size.

Silver sits beside him, stiff and awkward and uncomfortable.

"Not hungry?" he asks. Is he trying to get rid of you? Already?

"No, um... the feast that Malleus and Lilia put on was... plenty. Too much, even," you smile and sit, too.

There's something, almost like a smile, that plays on Silver's lips, but then his arms are tight across his chest and his expression has gone calm again.

"I'm pleased. We're all... very glad to have you,"

You snort at that, and, again, his calm, stoic expression ripples like the waters of a pond.

"Did I say something humorous?"

"Oh, uh... no, sorry. I just... um... you don't seem super excited to have me here," you smile awkwardly. "Which is fine! I guess I should've expected... Lilia didn't tell either of us, huh?"

Silver doesn't respond. You were hoping to see that faint smile again, or at least hear that hum of agreement from his lips, but there's nothing.

You look at him again, and he avoids your eyes.

"...It was I who sent for you,"

Your heart sinks. Oh... Oh?

"Oh,"

There's a quiver in his voice that he fails to drown. "H-have I been burdening you?"

"No!" you exclaim, quite loudly and abruptly (perhaps you've spent too much time with Sebek?) and Silver's eyes go wide.

"I-I thought I was burdening you..."

He stares, taken aback by your volume and then your words, and then there's that smile, again.

"Burdening me..." he repeats, as if you had said something terribly silly.

"You could never do such a thing. It was I who suggested you stay in Diasomnia, after all. I-I apologize for making you feel unwelcome. My... chivalry can come off as coldness sometimes."

You take a breath to calm yourself, and then you smile, too. Silver's eyes soften at the sight.

"Ah... I see," you mutter. "Thank you, then."

Even his smile softens. He tugs a blanket away from Grim and delicately wraps it around your shoulders, shielding you from the cold.

"It's my honor."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #silver x reader #silver vanrouge x reader

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yoongikapi · 18 hours ago

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take this bc im sick in bed rn😭

you’re sick || ot8 || drabbles

fluff/comfort

atz masterlist

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

hongjoong:

⟢ this man’s leaving work early fs and rushes home to find you groaning on the couch

⟢ he covers you up with a blanket and brings you some water and medicine

⟢ he makes sure you have everything you need and settles on the ground next to you by the couch and slowly runs his fingers up and down your legs to comfort you until you fall asleep

⟢ “feel better honey, I’ll be here if you need anything”

₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ

seonghwa:

⟢ when you wake up and tell him you’re not feeling good, his first instinct is to rest his forehead on yours; that’s his way of taking your temperature

⟢ he tells you you’re burning up and rushes downstairs to grab you some medicine along with something to drink

⟢ he slowly helps you sit up and feeds you the medicine and helps you with your drink, after he lays you back down he leaves the room to call out of work for the day

⟢ “I need to be here for my girlfriend, I’m not coming in today”

₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ

yunho:

⟢ a date in the rain sounded romantic, but reality had other plans

⟢ as the two of you sat waiting for your coffees, you couldn’t stop your cough from ripping it’s way out

⟢ “babe you’re coughing a lot, are you feeling okay? are you cold?” without waiting for a response, yunho removed his jacket and placed it on you and then suddenly stood up and grabbed your hand

⟢ “maybe we should go home and get you warm, common babe”

₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ

yeosang:

⟢ he knew something was wrong the second he heard your voicemail again after trying to call you for the third time

⟢ after arriving home, he was surprised to see you swaying back and forth in front of the microwave. grabbing your arm to hold you steady, he asked what was wrong before pulling you into a hug but you weakly pushed him away and whispered that you were sick

⟢ he took your hand in his and led you to the bedroom. he covered you up and wiped your face with a damp cloth before laying it to rest on your forehead.

⟢ “you left your tea in the microwave right? I’ll get it for you hon, stay in bed.”

₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ

san:

⟢ the apartment was dark when he got home from work, when he flipped on the light switch he found you laying unconscious on the floor

⟢ panicked, he reached down and held your face in his hands until you woke up. after a couple minutes he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom where he drew a warm bath for you

⟢ he slowly helped you into the bath and whispered sweet nothings to you as you got teary-eyed, continuously telling him how sorry you were and how much of a burden you were. after getting you cleaned up he helped you into your softest pajamas and gently laid you into bed

⟢ “ baby you could never be a burden to me, I love you so so much. get some sleep”

₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ

mingi:

⟢ you and your boyfriend have had this date planned for over a week and not feeling great wasn’t going to stop you from seeing him

⟢ hours pass by and you’re starting to feel even worse but you continue to hide it, that is until your boyfriend asks if you’re feeling okay

⟢ the sudden question made your knees weak and mingi caught you before you could hit the ground “I’m sorry, I’m actually not feeling great….”

⟢ “you have nothing to be sorry for, i’m sorry for not noticing sooner. lets get you home..”

₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ

wooyoung:

⟢ “babe you don’t have to be here..” you coughed out to your boyfriend

⟢ wooyoung left work the second you told him you weren’t feeling good and rushed over to your place with some medicine, a heating pad, and whatever else he thought you might need

⟢ “honey I dont want you to get sick..” you continued but he ignored you, gave you medicine and laid out everything he bought. after plugging in the heating pad he rested it on you and laid by your side

⟢ “i dont care about getting sick hon, I just want you to feel better”

₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ

jongho:

⟢ what was supposed to be a sweet date night resulted in a late night store run for medicine and extra water for you as you laid in bed, sick and waiting for your boyfriend to return

⟢ while jongho was checking out the items, an adorable, stuffed bear caught his attention. he immediately thought of you and quickly picked it up and scanned it before swiping his card and then ran back to the apartment

⟢ after you took your medicine, he pulled the stuffed bear out and cuddled it up next to you, you smiled and thanked him to which he smiled back. he laid down next to you and began to hum your favorite song

⟢ “i hope this makes you feel even a little bit better”

₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ

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itsgivingmami · 3 days ago

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hey how are you i was wondering if could do a Rhea x reader ? where rhea ask reader to marry like in a romantic places and it end with smut (Sorry english is not my first language)

Hey I’m good! Thanks for the request and no need to apologize ever. I hope you enjoy it!

With This Ring- Rhea Ripley

Rhea plans an intimate night at home to ask the biggest question of her life, she hopes to show her love just how much she means to her.

The glow of the candles illuminated your living room, their flickering light casting soft shadows across the walls. Rhea had gone all out tonight, transforming your cozy space into something magical and you’d nearly melted when you walked in the door. The coffee table was adorned with a simple yet elegant spread: your favorite wine, a snack board, and a small vase of fresh flowers. you could here the soft hum of her music in the kitchen.

“Baby?” You called gently making your way down the hall when you stopped frozen.

You glanced at her as she moved around the room, dressed in a fitted black shirt and dark jeans, her usual confidence tinged with a nervous energy that was hard to miss.

“This is… incredible,” you said, taking it all in. “What’s the occasion?”

Rhea smirked, scratching the back of her neck. “Can’t I spoil my girl for no reason?”

You gave her a playful look, though your heart fluttered at her words. “You always do anyway, but I know you. There’s also always a reason.”

She chuckled, her lips quirking into a small smile as she guided you to sit on the plush couch. Handing you a glass of wine, she sat beside you, her knee brushing against yours. For a moment, she seemed lost in thought, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her glass.

“My love,,” she began, her voice softer than usual. “You know I’m not the best with words, but I need you to hear me out.”

You set your glass down, giving her your full attention. Trying to ignore the way this was starting to sound like a talk you take a deep breath. The way her deep blue eyes met yours made your breath catch—it wasn’t just the usual intensity; there was something deeper there. A look you had never seen, no at home, on a date, in the ring, no where.

“I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to be strong for everyone else,” she continued, her voice steady but laced with vulnerability. “But you… you’re the one who makes me feel like I don’t have to be. You make me feel safe, loved, and understood in a way I never thought was possible.”

Your eyes began to tear as her words sank in.

“I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone,” Rhea said, her hands reaching for yours. “And I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much.”

Before you could process her words, she shifted, pulling a small velvet box from her pocket. Your heart stopped as she opened it, revealing a stunning ring—a delicate, timeless design that was so perfectly you.

“My sweet girl will you marry me?”

Tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you nodded, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, Rhea. Of cours I’ll fucking marry you.”

The relief and joy on her face was overwhelming as she slid the ring onto your finger. Without hesitation, she leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft yet filled with a passion that left you breathless.

As the kiss deepened, Rhea’s hands gently cupped your face, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. The warmth of her touch grounded you, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against her lips.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, her tone teasing but affectionate.

You smiled, your eyes shining with happiness. “I just can’t believe this is real. That you’re mine.”

Rhea’s gaze softened, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I’ve always been.”

She pulled you closer, her hands trailing down to your waist as she guided you onto her lap. The crackling of the fireplace and the soft hum of the music set the perfect mood, but all you could focus on was her—the way her lips claimed yours, the way her hands roamed your body with desire.

“Let me show you just how much I love you,” Rhea murmured, her breath hot against your ear as her lips trailed along your jawline.

#mami rhea #rhea ripley #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley fanfiction #wwe one shot #wwe raw #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #wwe #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley x fem reader #rhea ripley x oc #rhea ripley smut #wwe rhea ripley #monday night mami #wwe monday night raw #monday night raw

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mahojelly92 · 1 day ago

Text

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Word count: 2.6k

Schlatt and reader get stuck in a bedroom together :3 What will happen??

Contains some angst, but mostly fluff. I think I'll write another part and include smut 👀😝

Written for fem reader or gender neutral reader.

Schlatt's mouth falls open as we lock eyes across the room.

I choke on my beer and bring my hand up to stifle a cough. The bottle was pointing straight at me.

This can't be real, right?

“You and Schlatt, huh?” Tucker hollers next to me, his grin far too wide for my liking. Our friends in the circle cheer us on, making my cheeks burn up. Schlatt scoffs and rolls his eyes with a smirk.

Oh, it was definitely real.

“C'mon, guys. You're fucking kidding me, right?” Schlatt laughs nervously.

Glad he despises this as much as I do.

Ted shakes his head and points to the bottle in the middle of the room.

“The bottle doesn't lie, man!” He chuckles and glances at me with a devilish smirk on his face. I swear to god, once this is over and done with, I'm gonna fucking kill him.

“Well?” Ted asks dryly. His question is met with giggles and snickers all around us.

I stutter and feel my heart race. Of course Schlatt and I had to join in for the last round of spin the bottle. And of course the last game was fucking seven minutes in heaven.

Just my luck.

Schlatt slaps his knees and stands up from his spot on the floor, his smirk never wavering as he exclaims, “Alright, sweetheart, let's get this over with.”

He saunters towards the bedroom and glances back at me.

“You coming?” I nod and clammer to my feet, following him close behind and trying to ignore everyone's eyes on me. I awkwardly walk into the bedroom with him. My shoulders tense up as Ted shuts the door behind us and locks it.

That damn bastard.

“Alright you two!” He cheerfully exclaims through the door. “The seven minutes start…now!” He claps and shuffles away. I can hear voices giggling in the background.

Rolling my eyes and crossing my arms over my chest, I swivel on my heels to find Schlatt standing in front of me. He has that dumb smirk on his face and a hint of mischief in his eyes. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and his posture is alarmingly casual for a time like this.

My breath quickens as he looks me up and down.

“What?” I glare at him defensively, feeling my face grow hot.

“Nothing, toots. This is just funny. Who knew we'd end up here, huh?” He scans the room before his gaze returns to me again.

“Definitely not me.” I shake my head, huffing and running a hand through my hair.

“Hey, hey. Relax, would you? We don't have to do anything. Jesus.” He scoffs in annoyance, removing his hands from his pockets and running a hand over the back of his neck.

He clicks his tongue and goes over to the edge of the bed, sitting down and patting the space next to him.

“C’mere.” He huffs and glares at me. I'm frozen in place like a deer in headlights. My heart leaps in my chest.

“C’mon, toots. Sit with me.” He repeats sternly, patting the bed again.

I sigh and uncross my arms, sitting next to him and leaving some space between us. I breathe in and out slowly, trying to calm my nerves. I fiddle with my hands and place them in my lap, taking a moment to breathe and survey the bedroom.

The room is dark except for the warm light coming from the bedside lamps. Moonlight creeps in from the window to the left of us, emphasizing the dark blue paint on the walls and the soft grey comforter beneath us. The bedroom is decorated with a few picture frames and a couple of flower vases. Unlit candles are scattered across the dresser. The lamps are placed on either side of the bed, softly illuminating the walls and bouncing off Jay's skin. His usual dry, cocky demeanor fades as he stares off into the distance, his annoyance replaced by an air of quiet contemplation.

I realize that I'm staring at him and I quickly dart my eyes away, feeling that familiar heat rising in my chest again.

I shift on the bed and take in a deep breath. My shoulders relax a little as I look him over once more. His body slumps next to mine, clearly too tall for the short bed. His legs stretch out in front of him, the heels of his shoes digging into the floor, while his hands rest lazily in his lap.

He's such a giant. It's so cute how tall he is for his own good sometimes.

I chuckle to myself, unintentionally snapping him out of his trance. His head whips towards me, a goofy grin spreading across his face. Strands of curly brown hair fall against his forehead, and the stubble on his mutton chops catches in the moonlight, giving him an almost angelic glow.

His voice lowers as he leans down to speak.

“You know, ever since we were friends in high school, you've been nothing but trouble for me.” His eyes are playful, yet carry a hint of something I can't quite piece together.

I roll my eyes and smile. “In what way? Is this your idea of trouble, big guy?”

“No. This was just pure luck.” He gestures around the room and turns back to me. “But I'm just saying, you were so difficult back then. Always boy crazy and dramatic. I can't believe I kept you around for this long.” His words come out dry, but his eyes squint at the corners and the left side of his mouth curls up.

“Hey, for the record, I'm no longer like that. My bachelorette days are over.” I gloat.

“Oh really?” Jay smirks, straightening himself and shifting to face me. His knee lightly brushes against mine, making me shiver.

“Two months ago you were all over Kenan. I told you it was never gonna work out, toots. Someone didn't wanna follow my advice, and look where that got 'em?” His voice is tinged with arrogance. I laugh. He's totally talking about me, that smug asshole.

I throw my hands up in mock-defeat. “Okay, okay. At least I make an effort to go out on dates. When was the last time you even flirted with a woman, big guy?” I lean forward and smile mischievously, challenging his gaze.

“Hey, I have my reasons, okay.” He laughs, jutting his chin forward and pointing at himself. “I'm building my career, and I'm doing a damn good job at it, thank you very much.” He turns his nose up at me, sniffing his mustache.

Oh boy. Jay's cockiness was in full swing now.

He puffs his chest out and his lips curl into a playful sneer. “Besides, I make more money in a month than you’ll ever make in a year, bitch.”

I gasp exaggeratedly and chuckle. “Oh no, how devastating! Too bad I don't give a fuck about money.”

“Well, you better, because you can't come crying back to me when you're all broke and homeless, that's for sure.” Jay snaps back.

I laugh, playfully shoving his shoulder. My eyes light up with a sudden idea. “I've got it!” I sit up straighter, slamming my fist into my palm.

“I'll get myself a sugar daddy so I won't have to work a single day in my life! That kills two birds with one stone. Doesn't it, big guy? That way if I ever do become broke and homeless, you won't have to worry about a damn thing.” I smile at him triumphantly.

He chuckles and raises an eyebrow. “A sugar daddy? Who would be dumb enough to fall for that? I know more billionaires than you can count, sweetheart. And I'm certain they wouldn't even lift a finger for you.”

I laugh and blush, stretching my legs out in front of me and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He's really digging into me, isn't he?

“I'll make it work, trust me. Soon you'll be wishing you had the life of a free-loader. Just you wait.” Jay cracks up at my joke and shakes his head, leaning his hands on the edge of the bed.

“You're impossible, you know that?” he stares down at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Jay's left hand takes up the space between us, his pinky brushing slightly against my hip. I swallow and try to keep my composure, staring up at his face with a gentle smile.

The clock on the wall ticks lazily, a reminder of the time slipping away from us. Had it even been two minutes? I couldn't even tell anymore.

His smirk slowly vanishes. He seems lost in thought again, staring down at the floor in front of us.

“What's on your mind, big guy?” I ask, leaning forward to get a better look at him.

He shakes his head and eyes me. “Nothing. Don't worry about it.” He smiles and holds my gaze for longer than expected. I see that twinkle in his eyes again. My heart skips a beat.

I look away and clear my throat.

“You know,” I murmur, my voice lowering. I circle my thumbs in my lap. “I admire how hard you work, Jay. If I had just an ounce of your ambition, I think I'd be in a much different place by now.”

A beat passes and I hear him breathing steadily, considering my words.

“You really think that?” His voice rises in surprise.

I nod and glance at him, catching his cheeks turning pink.

“Well, thanks, doll.” He inhales sharply, his chest expanding. “But, I can't take all the credit, you know. You’re the reason I even have this career in the first place. You've always supported my stupid ideas. Sometimes I wonder who I'd be if I'd just stayed in college with you. I'd probably be way more book smart and less…” he waves his hands in front of him, searching for the right word. “Less of an asshole, I guess.” He chuckles nervously, looking down and fiddling with his hoodie strings. A sort of sadness lingers beneath his words.

My stomach drops as I see his face falling. All I wanna do is kiss him and make him forget all about the regret seething through him.

I bite my lip softly. “Yeah, but, is that so bad?”

His head perks up at my question. He props his elbows against his knees and leans forward, meeting me at eye level.

“I put up with you, Jay. Even if you are an asshole sometimes.” I let out a chuckle and breathe in, choosing my words carefully. “But YouTube is all you've ever wanted. It's all you've ever known.” He nods in agreement, listening intently.

“If you had gone through college and graduated with me, then…” my voice cracks and my gaze wavers. “Then, what would you be living for?” My heart rate picks up and I feel sweat bead on my temples.

I take a good look at Jay. I can see the gears turning in his head. That glint in his eye is back and brighter than ever.

The clock ticks again, this time more daunting than before. The air thickens with tension. Jay's gaze never leaves mine. His expression is soft, contemplative, understanding. It's a rarity to see him like this -- so genuine, so open, and so entirely himself.

He speaks up, voice shaking slightly. “You know what I'd be living for, doll.”

He places a firm hand over mine and gives it a gentle squeeze, temporarily easing the trembling in my fingers.

“You know, don't you?” he whispers.

I swallow and nod, glancing at his thumb brushing over my knuckles. God, I just want to scream.

His eyes sear into mine so intensely that it makes my stomach churn. I can't take the sight of him and snap my eyes back to my lap again. My face burns profusely and my heart pounds in my ears. I can't think straight and I clench my hands tighter under his grasp.

What the fuck is happening?

“Jay…” my voice trails off. I'm afraid. Afraid of what this will lead to. Afraid of what this might entail. We've been friends for so long. We were practically inseparable since the day we met. Yet, when we did finally go our separate ways, something shifted between us. An unspoken awareness of something deeper, a tension that neither of us could ignore. Now, as I sit here, my heart racing and my chest heaving, I'm torn between the familiarity of our past and the uncertainty of our future.

And I knew he felt the same way.

Jay lifts my chin up. My breath catches as he stares into my eyes and leans in.

He brushes his lips against mine, angling my head with his. I whimper softly and deepen the kiss, snaking my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. His hands caress the small of my back, sending a chill down my spine. A tickle grazes my cheeks as his mutton chops collide with my skin. His hot breath fans across my lips and I realize that this is utter perfection. He's all I've ever wanted, all I've ever dreamed of for so long.

Jay pulls back and I blink rapidly, a wave of dizziness washing over me as I try to regain myself.

“Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me?” Jay asks, vulnerability dripping through his words.

I bring my hand around his neck to his cheek, grazing my thumb across his facial hair.

“More than anything.” I whisper. He leans into my palm and sighs contently, closing his eyes. I press my forehead to his.

“You know, toots, you're not half bad.” Jay smirks, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest. He strokes my hair, smoothing it flat.

“Is this your way of saying you like me?” I giggle and tilt my head, our noses brushing against each other.

“With every bone in my body, sweetheart.” He smiles and leans in to kiss me again.

We pull back and just sit there, holding each other. The clock ticks on in its methodical rhythm, steadying our heartbeats. Jay squeezes me tighter, gently rubbing my back. I close my eyes and hum softly -- reveling at the quite connection between us.

The door knob wobbles and snaps us back to reality. Ted bursts through the door with his hand covering his eyes.

“Alright, lovebirds! You can come out now!” He stumbles into the room with his arm flailing out in front of him, grasping for air.

Schlatt scoffs and gawks at Ted, dumbfounded. “You can look, you idiot. We're not fucking naked.”

“Phew. Alright!” Ted exhales sharply and uncovers his face. “Have fun, you two?” He teases, eyeing us cuddled up on the end of the bed.

“Fuck off, Ted!” Schlatt and I shout in unison.

“Alright, jeez.” Ted sighs and backs off. “Well it worked, didn't it?” He smiles confidently and shrugs.

He knew all along, didn't he?

Fucking bastard.

I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Schlatt stands up and takes my hand, dragging me out into the living room and leaving Ted scrambling behind us.

Immediately, we're bombarded with questions firing at us from all angles.

“Did you guys kiss?”

“How was it? Give us all the details!”

“Y'all totally fucked. Spill!”

“So you guys are a thing now, right?”

We just smile at each other and push through our friends to sit on the couch, trying to deflect everything being thrown at us. I blush and keep my eyes on Jay, who's equally as embarrassed.

“Guys.” he grunts, making everyone fall silent. “You can cool it, alright? Nothing happened. Nothing worthy of mentioning, anyways.”

They finally cut us some slack and go back to talking amongst themselves.

Jay sighs heavily and stares down at me, his eyes gleaming with that sparkle I now understand so clearly.

“You okay?” He smirks, a hint of concern flicking across his face.

I nod and intertwine his hand in mine. A comfortable warmth spreads across my chest.

“Yeah, never better.” I exhale and stare at our hands with a smile.

“This is gonna be a long night.”

A/N: This one took me a WHILEEEE! I hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it 😘

#schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt fanfiction #gn!reader #jschlatt imagine #schlatt #jschlatt fanfic #rpf #fem!reader #jelly b fics #seven minutes in heaven #schlatt x y/n #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #schlatt x you

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dedexo · 2 days ago

Text

The Proposal

Timeskip Kenma x Fem Reader

Not proofread

“What's up bros It's Kozuken. Today, I have with me (he pulls the chair you’re sitting on in frame) my beautiful girlfriend, and we’ll be playing Minecraft together!”

The chat exploded with excitement and compliments. Kenma’s viewers loved it when you joined the stream even though it wasn't often. You only joined once in a while when Kenma asked you or on special occasions. You thought today's stream was just a regular stream, and Kenma only asked you to join because why not? However, Kenma had other plans in mind.

You guys have been dating for almost 5 years now and everything was going great, sure you had arguments here and there but nothing break up worthy. Overall, Kenma was pretty content with your relationship. The thought of marriage didn't even cross his mind until Kuroo brought it up randomly one day.

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

“Sooo when’s the wedding?” Kuroo asked while sipping his tea.

“What wedding?” Kenma asked with genuine confusion.

“Are you being serious right now?” Kuroo put down his tea and stared Kenma dead in the eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Are you not planning on marrying y/n?”

“Oh….” Kenma sits there and ponders for a couple of seconds. “Well to be honest I didn't really think about marriage. It would be nice though, calling her my wife and all.” A slight blush appeared on his cheeks.

“Well you better get on with it, no girl would stay with you this long if she didn't think you were gonna eventually propose to her. And if you wait too long she might just leave you.”

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

And that’s how he ended up here nervously sitting with a ring in his pocket and you sitting next to him completely oblivious to his plan.

He planned to propose to you through Minecraft since it was the first game you guys ever played together, but throughout the whole stream, he kept questioning himself. What if you said no? Should he really do this on stream where millions of people can see? Should he have proposed a different way? What if you wanted some big fancy flowers on the beach kinda proposal? How would he recover if you rejected him in front of his fans? These thoughts plagued his mind until he realized that it was almost time for the stream to end. It was now or never.

“Before we end the stream there's something I’d like to show you y/n, follow me.” Kenma said sounding kinda uneasy.

“Okay!” You say with a bit of excitement. You noticed that he was acting kinda weird but you decided to ignore it thinking it was nothing and continued to follow him in the game.

He carried you to this super pretty area that was covered in flowers. You could tell that there was a sign in the middle of it but you were too far away to see what it said. Once you were close enough you finally read what it said.

“WILL YOU MARRY ME Y/N💍?”

It took you a couple of seconds to process what was happening. Is this for real??

You look over at Kenma and he is on one knee with a ring in his hand.

You sat there, hands covering your mouth, absolutely dumbfounded.

“Y/n, you are the best girl I could ever ask for, I love you with all my heart and I cant imagine my life without you in it. Will you marry me?

“OH MY GOD YESSSSS!!” You jump on him causing you both to tumble over.

You guys get up off the floor and Kenma slides the ring on your finger

The stream chat was exploding with congratulations and people laughing at the fall.

Kenma thanked his viewers for the support and ended the stream.

You two spent the rest of the evening celebrating and looking at wedding inspo on Pinterest.

_________________________________________

If you couldn't already tell I lost motivation at the end 🙃

#haikyuu #haikyuu kenma #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #hq x reader #kenma fluff #kenma x reader #kuroo tetsurou #nekoma #haikyuu time skip #timeskip kenma #kenma x you #hq kenma #kenma one shot

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shesoutofhere · 2 days ago

Text

With Perfection Comes Obsession

Hockey James Potter x Figure Skater Reader

Summary- You're back in the rink, training for a medal you lost out on the year before. Nothing is going to get in your way this year. Or so you think.

Warnings- Description of a panic attack, Unhealthy habits

Wordcount- 10k

Translation: Lapin - Rabbit

Ignore all typos <3

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

Spin

“Again”

Spin

“Again

Spin

“Again”

You hit the ice just as aggressively as you did the time before that. You're finding it hard to breathe and everything aches.

“Again Lapin!”

You pump your legs, moving them fast and hard. You're mid-jump when you hear the shrieking of the arena buzzer. Thrown off, your footing is off and you fall to your knees.

You hear your coach scoff, moving to get off the ice. You get up, wincing at the sting in your knees, that’ll be a nasty bruise.

When you walk off the ice, Coach hands you your blade covers. You mentally prepare yourself for the lecture you’ll receive when you return to the locker room.

You feel a tight grip on your arm. Okay, looks like you’ll get your lecture right here.

“Lapin, If you get distracted by a buzzer, what makes you think you’ll be fine in an arena full of people? Have you learned nothing from your last performance?”

She asks you questions but doesn’t give you time to respond, she immediately cuts in. “And your jumps, how is it that you haven’t managed to master your jumps? You are well past the age to be scared of falling. Your hesitation will cost you this title.”

Silence falls over the both of you, Coach has her hands on her sides and just stares. You know what she's doing. She’s thinking of how you’ll be punished for this oh-so-horrible performance today.

“Tomorrow you will march yourself to the management office and ask for an extended time.”

Your eyes go wide, “Coach, they’ll never give me more time. And what about my professors? They’re already at their wits end with me being gone all the time.”

Coach’s eyes sharpen, “I’m sorry, have your priorities changed? Am I wasting your time Lapin? Cause if that’s the case then say so, and may we be free of this doomed partnership.”

You cower under her stare, “No, no of course not Coach, I’ll talk to management tomorrow and see what deal I can work up with my professors.”

Pleased with the conversation going her way, Coach smiles. “Good, I’ll see you soon.”

With that, she saunters off, reaching for her phone to call god knows who.

When you’re sure she’s out of eyesight you slump down onto the bench next to you. You close your eyes and take a minute to finally catch your breath. You bring your hand to your chest, hoping to alleviate some of the tightness and discomfort.

The bench shakes and you hear something hit the ground with a thud. You open one eye and close it again when you see who it is who’s disturbed your peace.

“How oh how will you ever convince management to give you any more practice time?”

You sigh, hoping that if you ignore the nuisance next to you, he’ll get the hint and leave you alone.

“They won’t even give the team extra time, let alone one person.”

You open your eyes and turn to look at the boy sitting next to you. “I can be very persuasive.”

James, who’s lacing up his skates, mumbles a quiet “Don’t I know it.”

You stand up and gather your things. “Who Knows James, win some games and maybe you’ll get the extra time you need.”

James pauses his movement, looking up at you with a deadly glare.

It’s a sore subject and you know it. After Peter Pettigrew, one of the university's star players decided to transfer, James and the rest of the team have been dethroned. They’ve known no peace since then and are grappling with everything to win this season.

James turns back to his laces. “Hey and maybe if you learn to stop being so skittish on the ice, you’ll land that jump for once Lapin.”

This is why you’ll never feel bad for being so hostile toward James. He’s a wolf in sheep's clothing and you lose your mind every day knowing that everybody has fallen for his golden boy act.

You throw your bag over your shoulder, swatting at the back of James' head on your way out of the arena.

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

You’re pacing back and forth in front of the management office. You’ve gone over every possible excuse that could convince them to give you more time. You will convince them, or Coach will have your head on a platter. You’ll butter up the sweet old lady who works the front desk, you’ll dazzle her, and she’ll sign whatever she needs to.

With one final pep talk, you walk into the office and freeze at the door.

Shit.

It’s not the sweet old lady.

Sitting at the front desk is Remus Lupin. ‘This is fine’ you try to convince yourself.

You saunter up to the desk “Good morning Remus, you look fantastic today, do anything different with your hair?”

Remus puts his book down, looking up with a sweet smile, “No, did the same thing I always do. How can I help you?”

You lean onto the counter and start messing with the pen jar. “You, my love, can sign off on my extra ice time.” you choose not to make eye contact, continuing to swivel the pens around the jar.

Remus sighs, dragging your name out, “You know I can’t approve any more time for you, the school won’t allow it.”

You stomp your foot out of habit, “ But Remus, I got all my professors to give me as many extensions as I need, really all I need is for you to say yes.”

Remus, always bursting your bubble, “It’s not about class love, It’s about your health. You know how the system works.”

You groan and bring your head down onto the counter. You knew this would be your biggest obstacle. All athletes have to adhere to certain rules. The university claims that it’s to protect the athlete's health but everyone knows it's so they don’t get backlash for overworking their student-athletes. You're allotted a certain amount of hours but anything over that has to be flagged and reported.

“Listen,” Your head shoots up, “I can maybe convince them to a lot you a bit more time, but you’ve got to go to your physical therapy sessions. Doc has to report when you don’t show you know.”

“Okay yes, fine, I pinky promise that I will see Doc, and stretch and stay off the ice for 30 minutes after eating, and-”

Remus cuts you off with a laugh, “Okay, okay I get it. I’ll talk to the board and see what I can do.”

You squeal, reaching over the counter to smack a kiss on Remus’s forehead. “You are a lifesaver Remus Lupin.”

Remus just shakes his head, “Yeah yeah, whatever, get out of here.”

You happily skip out of the office, so happy, that not even running into James Potter in his gear could upset you.

You offer a simple “James” and go to walk past him.

“Woah, what's got you all happy?”

You give him a sly smile, “Oh nothing, I’m just having a lovely morning.”

James furrows his brows at you, “Okayyy. Was Rem in the office?”

You nod at him, “Yes, my sweet, beautiful, lovely Remus is in there. How he’s friends with the lot of you, I’ll never understand.”

James is insulted but is weirded out more than anything.

Not caring to interact any further you wave goodbye.

James, still confused, continues into the office.

You don’t get far down the before James is yelling your name down the hallway. You roll your eyes, continuing on your way. You hear thumping and there’s a yank on your wrist.

You yelp out of surprise. James without a word is dragging you back towards the office. You both enter and Remus is shaking his head.

You rip your wrist out of James' grip, “I’d like that back thank you.”

You smile at Remus, “Hi love, so good to see you again.”

“Likewise.”

James snaps his fingers, “Quit it you two, Remus just told me you’re getting more time on the ice.”

“Why yes I am. I told you James, do better at your sport and good things come your way.”

“Guys please don’t start. I don’t want to have to kick you out again,” Remus says.

James disregards your insult, “You can’t get more time, you’re already maxed out on hours, they’ll never approve it.”

You shake your head in faux symphony “Oh James, I told you I was very persuasive.”

This seems to bring his attention back to his friend. “You” he points a finger aggressively toward Remus’s direction, “How could you say yes? You're the iron wall, no one shakes you down.”

Remus gives a weak shrug, “Okay, I wasn’t shaken down, we made a deal”

James rolls his eyes, “Oh yeah, and what was that?”

“She’ll see Doc, every appointment, she has to go.”

James looks confused. “How is that a deal? It's protocol.”

“Wellll” Remus drags.

The look on James’ face darkens. His attention is on you now. “You don’t see the Doc?”

You try not to be intimidated by his glare. “I just don’t see the point of seeing him after every practice. I mean come on, my body is my instrument, of course, I know how to take care of it.”

Whatever lightness was in the air, is gone now. James is genuinely upset and you can’t wrap your head around why.

“Are you kidding me, so what, you’ve just been skipping out on all your appointments?”

All you can do is shrug. Remus, who can sense the shift in the atmosphere, tries to intervene. “Look, I don’t even know if it’s a guarantee, I still have to ask the board.”

Your heart drops. “No. I need the time. You said you’d get me the time.”

Remus, who has unfortunately been caught in both James and your fury, doesn't know how to turn this conversation around.

“And what about your work, do you even go to class anymore?”

“I’m doing great in all my classes.”

“That doesn't answer whether you're going.”

“What does it matter? Virtual or not, It’s only until after the competition.”

James takes his glasses off and rubs at his forehead like he’s trying to ward off an oncoming headache. “So, just like that, you get the time, extensions on school work, and a pass from all the appointments you missed with Doc.”

You sigh, “I don’t get it James, are you jealous, is that what it is?”

This strikes a nerve in James. “You think that's what this is about?”

“Well” you throw your hands up, “what else could be?”

James puts his glasses back on and steps up to you, “You know what, if you want to overwork yourself and fuck up any chance you get at the actual competition, go ahead, seems like everyone is right behind you.” with that, James storms out the office.

Remus walks out from behind the desk and gives a light squeeze to your shoulder, “I don’t understand why you two work each other up so much.”

“He’s wrong,” you say quietly. Remus listens. “I’m better than I’ve ever been. I need this Remus, I need to win this. I need to show everyone that I can do it.”

Remus, with a sad look in his eyes, pulls you in for a hug. “Everyone knows you can, you’re amazing.”

You sigh and pull away. “It doesn’t matter how good I am, all everyone sees now is the girl who messed up last year. All my hard work was reduced to one stupid mistake. I have to get it right this time.”

Remus just sighs, he’s seen this version of you before, and he doesn’t like where it’s going.

He grabs you by the shoulders, “Promise that you’ll go to Doc.”

“Promise that you’ll get me my time.”

He sticks out his pinky, encouraging you to lock yours with his. You do.

“Thank Rem”

“Don’t make me regret love.”

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

To everyone's surprise, the board does accept your request for additional time. You're ecstatic. Coach won’t show it but you know she’s semi-impressed.

With the new time, the ending of your practice marked the beginning of the kid's ice class. Every time you did any sort of jump or spin you could hear a dozen little aws and wows.

You felt fantastic, Coach was in a decent mood, and practice was long but the scary women had minimal feedback. For the first time in a long time, you felt on top of the world.

“Okay, that’s enough for today.”

You walk off the ice, putting your guards on. Coach gives you final pointers and is out of the building before you can say bye.

You sat on the bench, undoing the laces of your skates when a group of the girls from before comes up to you. They flutter around you, asking all sorts of questions and giving endless praises. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t feel your heart swell with pride and joy.

You're talking about costumes when you hear your name being called. Standing towards the entryway are Doc and James.

You knew this day was going to well, you had forgotten that today was your scheduled appointment with Doc. As for James, every time you see him your day is ruined. The two of you hadn’t spoken since the whole incident in the office. Remus had tried to get the both of you to make amends but neither of you had the intention of doing so.

You put your slipper on and make your way over to pair.

“Hey remember me? Long time no see.” You know Doc is trying to be silly but your heart beating faster at the mere thought of having to get checked up.

The bespectacled figure clears his throat. “Haven't you heard Doc, our ice princess got more ice time so she's been pretty busy.”

You cross your arms. Reaching a hand to rest on your sternum, feeling a slight tug at every breath you take.

Doc disregards James petty comment, immediately picking up on your discomfort. “You okay?”

James looks puzzled, glancing back and forth between the two of you, looking for whatever he missed.

You shrug. “Yeah, it's just, well..you know.” Doc just nods.

“Know what?” James blurts out. From the look on his face, you can tell that he didn't mean to say that out loud.

You frown, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly something.”

“Okay, well it’s none of your business is it.”

“OKAY,” Doc yells, cutting both of you off. “James I’ll do what we talk about, now move along.”

James lingers for a bit before he finally walks off.

“Now you” Doc starts, “Shall come with me.”

You know that there isn’t any way to avoid this and follow right behind him.

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

Doc makes small talk throughout your checkup. You give replies, trying your best not to come off like you don’t want to be there.

You’re in the middle of doing a stretch when Doc says “So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

You lay on your back and bring a knee up to your chest, staring up at the ceiling. “Do we have to?”

Doc hums, “I think we should.”

You bring your leg down and lift the other to your chest “Okay, well then I guess.”

Doc stands at your side and offers a hand to bring you up from the ground. You sit on the ground and Doc sits in front of you. “I need you to know that what I did, was not only part of my job as your doctor but as someone who cares deeply for you lot.”

You fidget with your fingers as Doc continues. “And I had to report the appointments that you were missing. I know you guys like to joke around with me but I am a healthcare provider before anything else and you can loathe me all you want but know my actions are never meant to harm you.”

Ugh, you feel like such an asshole now. “I don’t hate you Doc, I know you're just doing your job. I think-” you pause, trying to gather your thoughts, “I think in my head If I didn’t do my checkups, there wouldn’t be anyone to tell me that something could potentially be wrong.”

Doc nods, and you continue “I should’ve listened to you back then, with or without the jump I would've lost anyway.” You say with a sad smile. “This time has to be different, I have to land that jump, I have to win this one.”

Doc gives you an odd look. “I’ll be watching you like a hawk, you need to take care of yourself. I won’t watch you hurt yourself for this again, will you hate me then?”

You feel your body stiffen, you need this, so you think you might.

“I mean it when I say this one is mine this year.” you have never been more serious in your life.

“Oh trust me, I believe you.”

It doesn’t have to be said, but you think that you and Doc might be a bit further apart than before.

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

You’re counting down the weeks. The competition is getting closer with each day that passes. You’ve spent more time at the arena over the past couple of weeks than you have in your dorm.

Practice isn’t until later today, but you ambushed Remus when he was walking into the rink this morning.

Now here you are, skating freely in the dimly lit rink. Remus gets horrible migraines and chooses to leave the lights off for as long as he can.

You glide across the rink, twisting and turning whenever you please. Some time has passed when you come to a stop. All you can hear is the sound of your labored breath. You do your breathing techniques, trying your best to regulate your heartbeat.

Your nerves spike back up when you see James skating towards you and feel speed.

He halts right in front of you. “Are you okay?”

All you can do is nod, not being able to form words quite yet. James doesn’t say anything else for a while. He watches and waits as you catch your breath.

When you seem to have calmed down he jumps to question you. “What on earth was that?”

You shrug, “I just got a bit winded I guess.” He blinks at you, “That's not the first time it happened though.”

James, always so annoyingly inquisitive.

“I’m fine James, where the hell did you come from anyway? The rink isn’t open yet.”

You both kick into a slow skate around the rink. “That's rich, considering you’re here too. Also, you forget that Remus is one of my best friends.”

“How could I forget, you remind me every time I interact with him.”

“Well, that's because I can’t seem to understand what hold you’ve got over him. He folds instantly when it comes to you. You know I had to beg him for 20 minutes to let me in.”

You give a triumphant smile, “Remus and I have a bond that exceeds any and all relationship types, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

James scowls, ‘Stop talking about your special bond with Remus.”

“Jealous?”

“No!” James responded a bit too quickly. “More like deeply disturbed.”

“Not as disturbing as you and Sirius,” you say, skating a bit faster to get ahead of him.

“Hey! Don’t bring Sirius into this.”

You tsk, “So quick to defend his honor. Tell him I’m still waiting on our date by the way.”

“Oh please, Sirius goes on dates with anything that moves so don’t hold your breath.” Whatever honor and respect James had for his best friend earlier is out the window.

You hum, not offering him a real response. James, changing the subject, “Was that a routine earlier?”

“A routine with no music?” you ask sarcastically.

James rolls his eyes, “I'm just asking because it looked familiar.”

Familiar? Why would it look familiar?

“Spend your days off watching figure skating routines?” you say as you skate backward in front of him.

He shakes his head, “No, just yours.” he doubles down quickly, “Well cause, we skate at the same rink and all that.”

It’s too late, what he’s said has already gone to your head. You bring a hand to your heart mockingly, “The James Potter, Hockey legend, watches my routines. What an honor.”

James makes a face at you, “Oh whatever, forget I said anything.”

You continue “I can’t believe I am skating with James Potter.” you say as you skate around him.

James can’t help but laugh. “Okay quit it you’re gonna make me dizzy. God knows how you spin the way you do without throwing up.”

You continue at his side. “Years and years of practice.”

“So, the routine, what's it from?”

You let out a long sigh, “It was bits and pieces from my finals routine last year.”

James says a quiet ‘oh’

“Mhm” is all you can offer back.

“I was there, you know?” James fidgets with his glasses. “Well, I mean, me and the whole team—half of the university, really.”

This shocks you. You knew a lot of peers and locals from your university town showed overwhelming support, but for some reason, knowing James was there makes you…happy?

“Well, you picked the worst one to turn up to.” You try to make a light-hearted joke, but it doesn’t work.

James comes to a stop on the ice. You stop with him. “You really scared everyone.”

You scoff, “More like disappointed everyone.”

“No” James replies sharply, “I can assure you that no one in that arena was disappointed and you’ve got to stop thinking that.”

You feel an argument brewing. “And what about you James? What did you feel? Please share with the gallery.”

“I-” he pauses for a second. “I was scared too, and then I was angry.”

“Angry?”

He nods, “Angry. I was angry at you. I was angry that you’d attempt to do something so-”

He cuts himself off, trying to restrain himself.

“Something so what James? Go on say it” You egg him on.

He yanks his glasses off his face, a habit he has when he’s frustrated. “Fine! Something so stupid. I couldn’t, for the life of me wrap my head around why you would purposely do something so stupid.” James doesn’t stop there. “I couldn’t understand why you would disregard Doc's orders. I was angry that you had such little regard for yourself and your body.” James throws his hands up,” and all for what?”

You clench your fist tight at your side. You feel the anger flare up inside you. “All for what?” you laugh bitterly. “Is that how you see what I do?”

James doesn’t respond. His silence only angers you more. “I did what I thought was necessary okay? I worked too hard all last year to just give it up. I made a mistake, I understand that, and I have spent every moment since then trying to make it up.”

You inch closer towards James, “Do you know how humiliating it is to have all my hard work be reduced down to one single mistake? I am perfect my whole career but the second I have one slip-up I'm stripped of all my wins, all my medals. Everything I’ve worked for, completely disregarded.”

James stares at you with wide eyes. “Is this what this is about? About ruining your perfect reign? Do you know how insane that sounds?”

You groan, “I could hold my tongue hearing this from anyone else, but you of all people James, Seriously? You are such a hypocrite.”

James glares at you. “And what exactly are you alluding to?”

“You,” you say, shoving a finger in his chest, “are a hypocrite. You think I don’t see what you’ve been doing. Ever since Pete left you have been overcompensating, trying to fill a role all by yourself. The late night and early morning practices. Taking on extra responsibility on the ice. Spreading yourself thin to make it to nationals.

“That’s different.”

You laugh “How on earth is different James?” you can't believe this guy.

“It’s different because It’s temporary until we find someone else. It’s different because I take care of myself. It’s different because it’s a whole team of us that care about each other. Yeah, I'm stepping up right now but I can always step back and rely on the guys if I need to. You, however, have..well you just don’t..” he sighs, “you’re alone.”

You back up from him, “You’re unbelievable.” you start skating to exit the rink. You hear James call after you. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever James, just leave me alone.”

“Would you just let me explain?” he desperately calls out. You swivel around the ice quickly, turning to face him. You have a snarky remark to give but it's out the window when James fully runs into you. Before both of you can catch yourselves, you both fall onto the ice.

You yelp out in pain when James falls right onto your foot. He’s off of you quickly. “Holy shit are you okay?”

You don’t answer, attempting to stand up. When you put pressure on your right foot, a sharp pain shoots through your ankle. James must see the pain in your face, “I'm so sorry I didn’t think you were going to stop. Let me help you back.”

You shake him off, “No it’s fine, I’m fine.” you go to kick off the ice and the pain brings you to your knees. James reaches for you but you push his hands away.

No no no, this can’t be happening. You feel your heart start to pick up. You can barely hear James over the ringing in your ear. You stand up one more time, pushing off with your left leg this time. You make it somewhere but when you push off your right leg out of habit you double over in pain.

You hear James grimace from behind you. “Alright, that's enough.” James wraps your arm over his shoulder and takes most of your weight. You can’t deny him, having no other way to get off the ice. He glides the both of you to the exit. The second your feet reach the matted floors you push away from him and limp to the nearest bench. You're pulling and tugging at your laces aggressively. When your skate is loose enough you yank your foot out, crying out in pain. You roll your sock down both you and James gasp. You throw the skate that’s in your hand.

You bring your hands to your eyes, feeling that annoying sting. “Fuck!” This is not happening. You did not just ruin your chances for this year because of one little accident.

“I have to get Remus.” you grip James' wrist stopping him in his tracks. “Absolutely not!”

James tries to pull his wrist from you but you bring your other hand to grab at it. “Don’t say anything, please. I promise I’m fine.” James looks at you bewildered, “Are you insane? Your ankle is purple.”

“I bruise easily. I promise it's fine.”

“Walk on it.”

What. “What?”

James shrugs, “Walk on it. Walk from here to those bleachers.”

You go stand up, his eyes never leaving you. You take your first step and feel the same sharp pain you flinch but take your next step. You take step after step, pushing through the blinding pain. You make it to the bleachers and turn to face James. “See, it’s fine.”

James stares at you in disbelief. He walks up to you “You are unbelievable.” He grits out.

James leaves without saying anything else. Leaving you in the dark arena.

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

It’s been three days. You managed to convince Coach to give you time off, telling her that you had some projects to catch up on. Pleased with your recent performance, she reluctantly granted you some free time. No practice meant no Doc visits. Three days and radio silence from James. You were so sure that he would've said something to someone by now but you aren't called in for any meeting or evaluations.

Three days later and your ankle is still purple and throbbing. You’ve taken way too many painkillers for it to be safe but it’s your first day back and you have to act like you feel fine.

You walk into the building. You put on a smile and are prepared to give the best performance of your lifetime. Coach is already standing by the ice. You go towards the locker rooms but you stop when she yells your name.

She looks annoyed when you walk up to her. “Hey Coach”

She puts her phone down. “Look, they are cutting into your time today because they have to get the ice ready for the game tonight. I’m going to need you to do a quick warm-up and get right into running the routine. Jumps and all.”

You nod, “Yes ma’am.”

You put your bag down on the bench and start getting ready. You’re lacing up your skates when you hear a chorus of laughter. You lift your head to see James, Remus, and Sirius all chit-chatting while exiting the office hallway. Sirius catches your eye and you’re too slow to look away. He’s caught you.

“Lapin!”

Oh god.

You hear them make their way over.

“Where have you been? We haven’t seen you in ages.”

You yank tightly at your laces and wrap them around your ankle. “Oh don’t exaggerate. It was only three days.”

Sirius scoffs, slouching down onto the bench next to you. “Yeah, that’s forever for you. I feel like lately you’ve been here every day.” you roll your eyes at him.

“I had schoolwork to catch up on.”

Remus hums, “Look at you. Working hard.”

You lean back on the bench. “What can I say? Anyway, I’m back. Try not to stare too hard Sirius.”

Sirius' shoulder bumps you. “Hey, what about Remus?”

You stand up, “You my darling.” pointing a finger at Remus. “Can stare as long and hard as you’d like to.”

There is a slight tinge of pink on Remus’s face but he laughs it off. “Quit you two.”

Your attention turns to James clearing his throat. This whole time he hadn’t said anything, just staring at you, analyzing your every move.

The two of you stare at each other, tension thick in the air. He drags his eyes slowly down your body. Any other person would think he has no shame but you know it’s nothing like that. You know exactly what he’s looking for. James' eyes linger on your ankle, mostly hidden by your skates.

James tilts his head, “Hmm”

Sirius and Remus, having no idea what's going on, simply stand there.

“Hmm? That’s all you're gonna say?”

Jamea shrugs. “What else is there to say? Everythings fine.”

For the past three days you’ve done nothing but worry about James snitching on you. It’s brought you nothing but stress and anxiety. Why hasn’t he said anything?

You open your mouth to say something. “Yeah sure everythi-”

“Lapin! On the ice. Now!”

James continues staring at you. If he thinks you’re going to crack, he’s going to be waiting for the rest of the day.

You walk away with as much ease and poise as you can.

The pain in your foot isn’t gone. You’ve got a purple bump to prove it but you’ve taken enough pain meds to hold off some of the pain for now. You skate around the ice, warming up. Every time you kick off you feel the twinging pain but do your best to ignore it. Coach doesn’t let you warm up for long.

“Lapin, run the routine.”

You’re heart drops, you didn’t think she’d get straight into it but she must want to take advantage of the time you had on the ice.

You take a deep breath, already feeling the normal burning sensation in your lungs. You get into position. You steady yourself into your starting pose. You lock eyes with James. They’re all leaning onto barriers. Neither of you breaks eye contact. Finally, you hear the starting notes of your music and begin. You kick off beautifully, moving across the rink in a matter of seconds. You glide elegantly across the ice. The music begins to swell, the first jump is coming up. You breathe in, brace yourself, and jump. You spin, almost landing perfectly. There is a bit of wobble but nothing you can't make up in the next couple of jumps. You continue your program. You jump again. Spinning and landing. This one is perfect, no wobble. You keep moving, swelling with pride. You can’t see anyone but the lack of yelling lets you know that Coach is somewhat satisfied with the jumps. You push on, beginning to feel the pain in your foot. You ignore it as best you can. It’s when you're landing your third jump that the pain shoots up through your ankle. It leaves you breathless for a second but you compose yourself. You skate, you skate and skate and skate until you hear yelling over the music.

“Get her off the ice right now!”

You bring yourself to a stop. You look over to the commotion and see the coach with Doc. Standing right next to both of them is James.

You stay on the ice, trying to catch your breath.

It’s Coach's turn to yell at you. “Lapin, come here right this instance.”

Your heart continues beating quickly. You make your way over and when you're at the exit, Coach is pulling you by the arm, heading straight for the benches.

“Sit.”

You look between her and Doc, you can’t even bear to look at James.

“What on Earth is going on?!”

“Take your skates off!”

“Excuse me?”

“Skates. Off. Now.”

You reach to slowly start untying your skates. It doesn’t matter how slow you move. They all sit and wait.

Once they’re both off Doc kneels and reaches for your ankles immediately.

“Woah what the hell are you doing?”

“Which one James?”

Your head snaps towards James. You’re caught, you know it, but if James says something now you’ll hate him for the rest of your life.

James must see it in your face. He’s silent for a second.

“Which one is James? I'm not going to ask again.”

James looks away and answers. “The right one.”

Without another second wasted, Doc is yanking your sock down, revealing a swollen purple ankle. Both Doc and Coach gasp.

“Lapin, what the hell were you thinking?”

You scramble to save this. “It’s not as bad as it looks! I promise!”

You look between Coach and Doc and all you see is pure disappointment. Coach runs a hand through her hair.

“Why? Why are you so adamant about hurting yourself? Do you not realize that you could mess this up beyond repair. What will you do then?”

Your eyes start to sting and you feel them watering up. “I didn’t mean to. It was a stupid accident.”

“Well, that’s exactly my point. You are a star athlete. What are you doing having stupid accidents? You are meant to be taking care of yourself.”

You feel the tears begin to fall. “Oh, now you care? Where was this lecture when you let me skate last year? Or how about all the times I skipped my appointments? How many appointments did you let go unattended? How many times did you look the other way?”

You stare at your coach in anger and she looks right back at you with a look you can’t place.

Doc cuts in. “We need to get it checked out.” You go to stand up and Doc tries to help you immediately. “You really shouldn’t be walking on it.”

“I’ve been doing it just fine.”

Doc shakes his head and reaches to help again. “I mean it. I don’t want you walking on it. James can you come hel-”

You cut him off immediately. “Absolutely not. I said I’m fine. I can walk by myself.”

Realizing that he can’t stop you, Doc lets you start making your way to his office. James follows behind immediately, calling you names. You ignore him but he won’t stop. He grabs your arm. You hear him quietly beg “Please, can you just listen.”

You yank your arm out of his grasp. “I never want to hear from you again, James Potter. I hate you.” you spit out venomously. James displays a clear look of hurt. You leave him there, making your way down the hall alone.

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

After a thorough investigation, Doc diagnoses you with a bad sprain. It would have been fine if you had sought medical help immediately, or so he says. You don’t speak if you don’t have to, only offering quiet yes’s and no’s.

Doc is finishing up when you do finally speak a full sentence. “When am I cleared to skate again?”

Doc sighs, like who knew the question was coming. “Well, that’ll be up to you.”

He moves around the room, gathering things for your kit while speaking. “You wanna get better fast, you’re gonna have to take care of that ankle.” he walks over, handing you the kit and paperwork. “That means no agitating it, no skating, and definitely no competition.”

You knew this was coming but hearing it breaks your heart. You feel your eyes start to water again.

“Look,” Doc starts. “I'm really sorry. I knew how much this meant to you.” His words go in one ear and out the other. You silently stand up and grab all your things. You can’t bear to be in this rink anymore. You reach for the newly prescribed crutches and adjust yourself. Doc watches silently. You whisper a quiet thank you and goodbye. You make your way out of the building, trying your best to ignore all the stares. The rink, now busy with people waiting for the upcoming game.

Everyone pushes to get in when you want nothing more than to get out. Every look you receive is filled with pity that you don’t want. You finally make it out, trekking through the parking lot to get to your car. Once you're in you turn it on and drive in silence. When you're in your dorm you head straight to bed. Holding onto one last hope that all of this is just a dream.

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

You know you shouldn’t be here. Well, technically nothing is stopping you from being here. But with Coach currently giving you the cold shoulder, Doc banning you from skating, and James on your hate list, Coming to the rink might not be the smartest of ideas.

That is why you are here right now, at night. You’ve been out for over a week and feel like you’ve been going stir-crazy in your room. Technically the rink is closed. It has been for the past three hours. However, you know Burnie, the maintenance man, doesn’t leave until a while after.

You’re shaking in the cold when you see him walk out the front, going to lock it. He smiles when he sees you. You can't help but smile back. “Hey Burnie.”

“Hey sweetheart” He greets you with just as much enthusiasm as always. “Whatcha doing here?”

“I forgot a couple of things in the locker room. Thought it might be time I come and get it.”

He eyes you suspiciously. You can’t help but laugh. “Burnie I promise I’m just here for some things. Look, no bag, no skates,” you say as you spin in a circle for him.

He reaches to steady you. “Woah okay now. Be careful on that foot.” he sighs. “Alright sweetheart, I'm gonna trust you on this, run in and grab your things and I’ll wait for you right here.”

“What, Burnie no. I'm not gonna make you wait out here in the cold. Plus you shouldn’t have to stay a second later. I already feel bad keeping you right now.”

Burnie’s still wavering. You sigh. “Look Burnie, I’m in a boot and I don’t know if you know this but these are a pain to take off. Both literally and physically. I just need to grab my things but I don’t want you waiting out here on me when you could be halfway home.”

“Fine. You’ve convinced me. Don’t let me find out that you were skating or we're gonna have some problems, sweetheart.”

You giggle pointing at your boot. “Burnie, I already told you I can’t.”

He waves a hand, walking away. “Knowing you? You’d find a way. There are keys in Remus's desk. Lock the front door when you're done.”

“Sir yes Sir.”

You make your way into the lockers, finding your bag of things that you always leave here. You grab it and walk out to the rink. You slump down onto the bench. You start rummaging through your bag. You smile as you find all sorts of knick-knacks.

You pull out what you were looking for, your old skates. You smile fondly as you remember the skating you did in them. Your happiness morphed into sadness when remembering the people who bought you the skates. You hadn’t seen your parents since you moved out to college. Your skating was too mediocre for them to fly out and watch. You remember every single time they turned down your invitations, telling you it would be “A waste of time”.

How could that be? You had everyone telling you you’re the best skater they’ve seen in ages. You have a world champion for a coach. You have so many people coming out to watch you. How can you have all of that and it still not be enough to make your parents see you?

This is why you had to be fantastic. You were supposed to be perfect this year and the last and you ruined it. You still hadn’t told your parents about your injury. You could still hear your mother on the phone from last year. The disappointment, the lack of worry for her child, and worst of all, her deadpan voice muttering into the phone, “What did we expect, knowing you.”

You’re squeezing the skates tightly, you feel your breath pick up. You pinch your eyes shut. Nonono this cannot be happening. You know this feeling all too well. You put your hands over your ears and bring your head down. You feel the familiar tightness in your chest. You try to breathe in and out but your airways feel constricted. You sit up and start rummaging through your bag looking for an inhaler. You find one and pull it out, panicking more when you realize that it’s out of pumps. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. Hearing the heavy thump over and over again. You get up. You know you have one in your car, you just have to make it out there.

You start walking, trying your best to slow down your breathing. You can start to see the light coming from the front when you hear someone unlocking the door. You walk around the corner, fully expecting to see Burnie who’s come back to kick you out. You freeze when the person turns around.

You and James both stop in your places both gasping in shock.

“Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me,” he says with a hand over his heart.

You don’t have time for James, so you walk right past him. James takes your silence as an insult.

“Are you still ignoring me?” you don’t answer, you fumble to get the keys out of your pocket. Reaching to unlock the door. When you do, you book it out to the parking lot. You can hear James following you.

“Seriously, you don’t show up for a week and then I find you here in the middle of the night. What were you doing anyways?” he continues behind you. James' tone changes, seeming to land on the only possible explanation. “You were skating weren’t you?” you get your car keys out of your pocket and start clicking on the unlock button over and over again.

“God” he scoffs, “You’re insane. That has to be the only explanation.” whatever else James says you can’t hear. The pain in your chest is unbearable and you start to cough at the lack of air in your lungs. The cold makes every sharp inhale burn. You finally make it to your car and swing the back door open. You jump in, yanking your bag out from under the seat. You dig through it and pull your inhaler out. You bring it to your mouth and inhale instantly.

You sit up, breathing in. Your eyes are closed but you can hear James' shoes scuff to a stop right outside your open door. You stay like this for a while. You finally feel your heart start to slow and the burning in your chest is subsiding. You open your eyes and see James staring back at you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit you have asthma?”

His complete 180 in emotions gives you whiplash.

“Yes you dickhead, I have asthma.”

James completely disregards the insult. “You had asthma this whole time. That's what Doc was asking about right? Or that time on the ice? When you get winded?”

You just nod.

“Yeah, you’re definitely insane.” you lean forward to smack his arm. “Quit calling me crazy!”

James rests a hand on the top of the car, leaning in, getting a better look at you in the back seat.

��I’m not calling you crazy. I’m calling you insane.”

You cross your arms. “So what, I have asthma. Plenty of athletes have asthma,” you say, looking up at him.

James runs a hand through his hair. “That isn’t the point. I just wish- If you could just-” Without another word he’s getting into the backseat, pushing you over to make room for him.

James clears his throat. “Listen, I’m going to say something and I need you to listen.”

Whatever you're about to say, James doesn’t let you. “Promise. Promise you won’t say anything until I’m finished talking.” You stare down at James' hand, pinky extended, waiting for yours.

You wrap your pinky around his. He drops his hand but keeps his finger interlocked with yours. You don’t pull away.

“I think you should take a break from skating.”

You roll your eyes. You push away from James but his pinky tightens around yours.

“Wait! You promised you’d listen.”

He’s got a desperate look on his face. “I watch you.”

“James what?”

“Okay no, but yes.” He clarifies. “God I’m really bad at this. What I want to say is that I notice you okay? The second you started skating here I noticed you.”

“You are frustratingly good on the ice. You’ve gotten title after title and it's got everything to do with you” James looks down, fidgeting with your joint pinkies. Ears red. “But ever since your incident last year you’ve gotten so…” he trails off looking for the right word. “Aggressive”

“You’ve gotten so aggressive with your technique, on the ice, and with yourself. There’s something different about you. Everyone thinks it's a newfound determination but I can see it in your eyes, it’s something else. You skate with no regard for your body. What happens when you push it too far? What happens when you force yourself so hard that your body gives up on you? What will you do then?”

The silence is heavy over you both. You look at James and he looks back at you with so much emotion, searching for an answer.

You let out a shaky breath. “What am I if I can’t skate? Can you tell me, James?”

He stumbles over his words, clearly thrown off by your question. He comes up blank.

“Exactly. Skating is all I have, it’s all I am.”

James shakes his head. “No, that isn’t true.”

You let out an exasperated laugh. “Do you think I’d be here right now if it weren’t for my skating? I’m here because it’s what I'm good at. I have so many people betting on me, so many expectations to uphold, so many people to prove that I’m worth it.”

James leans in closer and speaks gently. “Why do you think that you aren’t already the best? Why is it so hard to believe that you are amazing at what you do?”

His gentle tone does little to comfort you. He doesn’t get it. “If I’m so great how come my parents won’t come to see me?” you yell, your tone coming off harsher than you had intended.

You recognize the emotion behind James' stare, it’s pity and you hate it.

You can’t bear to look at him, embarrassed by your outburst.

“Hey,” you keep your gaze towards your lap.

“Hey, look at me.” you feel his hand come under your chin as he lifts your face to meet his eyes.

He unlatches his pinky from yours and brings his hand up to hold your face.

“Is that what it is, you feel like you’ve got a crowd to appeal to? Well, guess what? You don’t owe anyone anything. You skate because you love it not because you feel the need to meet intangible expectations. If your parents can’t see how good you are then that's on them, you don’t need them.”

You groan and reach for his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. “That's easy for you to say.”

James furrows his brows at that, “What’s that supposed to mean.”

“You have your parents here offering you endless support. No offense, but you could sit out an entire game and they’d still whoop and holler about how proud they are of you. You have a team that worships the ground you walk on. You have Remus and Sirius. What do I have? Who do I have? Coach?” You raise a hand to wipe away your tears but it’s no use. “I’m a thousand miles away from everything and everyone that I love. Being good, no, being fucking fantastic is the only way to get their attention. So if that’s what I need to be then so be it.”

You let out one shaky breath and it all breaks loose. You bury your head in your hands, trying to muffle whatever mess you look like from James. After a short moment of sobbing into your hands, you feel hands pull at your arms. Before you know it, James is pulling you into a warm embrace.

The angle is a bit awkward, considering the size of your backseat but he still manages to get his arms wrapped around you. Your head lands on his chest, ear pressed against it. You stiffen at first but slowly wrap your arms around him. You both sit in silence. He gently runs a hand up and down your back, while the other rests on the back of your head, holding it. You listen to the beat of his heart, which moves rapidly. You can’t help but smile slightly. Despite being the one to make a bold gesture, he’s the nervous one.

“You aren’t as alone as you think.”

“What?” You go to lift your head but James pushes it back onto his chest. Heart beating quicker.

“You're Not alone. You have Sirius and Remus, just as much as I do if not more. They adore you a little too much. And whether you believe it or not you have Doc and just about everyone else who you cross paths with in the rink.”

He clears his throat for the next one. “And you have me.”

It’s said so quickly you almost miss it. You’re sure you would’ve if you weren’t so close to him.

You go to lift your head again but he pushes it back down. You groan. “James.”

He doesn’t respond. You go to move but he holds you in place again. “James Potter, let me look at you.”

He doesn’t budge, “I’d rather you didn’t”

“James, if you don’t let me move, so help me god.”

Your tone seems to do it. His hand slips from where it rested on your head. Once you get a good look at him, you almost laugh at the sight in front of you. James Potter, Red in the face, with a look of embarrassment so bad, he could die. He looks everywhere but at you. Eyes darting around the car.

“James”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

He does for a second and then looks away.

“James,” you say sternly.

“Yes?” He says picking at the seats.

Without putting much thought into it you smack both hands on his face, forcing him to look at you. You seemed to surprise him more than yourself. James stares at you with wide eyes. You’d done it without thinking and how you have no course of action.

You both blink at each other.

“What was it that you said just now?”

He doesn’t turn away this time. That's progress. “What were we talking about?” he says with a dazy voice. You look at him expectantly. James, who realizes he has nowhere to go, blurts it out.

“I said that you have me. There. Happy?” he doesn't stop there. “I said you have me because you do. All the time, every day I'm thinking about you, which is crazy considering how much you berate me. But that must be it. I must be crazy because I love it all the same. I care about you, even though half the time you make me want to slam my head into a locker, I care. So, yes, you have me.”

Through your hands, you feel the heat of his face. Despite the strong blush and red ears, James looks at you so earnestly that you can’t help what comes next.

Hands still on his face you pull him forward into a kiss. He freezes and you pull away. Just for a split moment, you worry that you made a mistake. But before you know it James surges forward, reconnecting your lips. Whatever hesitation there was before, is gone now.

His lips move against yours slowly, tentatively, exploring. You feel a finger trace the line of your jaw. Then the hand slips behind your head, bringing you closer. The sweet kiss now deepened with the hunger shared between you both. You raise your arms to wrap around his neck. You feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t stop.

With his newfound confidence, James moves forward. Your back hits the seat and James hovers over you now. He moves to lay himself over you. You feel his hand running up and down your side. You gasp into the kiss when a cold hand slips under your shirt, resting on your bare waist. James groans at the feeling of your bare skin, squeezing your side. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t want to stop, ever. But the more James runs his hands over you and kisses you with an insatiable passion, the less you can breathe.

You ignore it at first, but the aching in your chest only gets stronger. You feel like you’re drowning, and you decide that hyperventilating while making out isn’t the way to go so in one swift motion you sit up, pushing James off of you.

You breathe in harshly. James now sits up straight, staring at you wide-eyed, glasses askew. You laugh but it sends you right into a coughing fit. You start to panic a bit and search for your inhaler. James snaps out of his daze and seems to get the memo. After what feels like forever, James lifts the inhaler. “Got it” he yells triumphantly.

Snatching it from his hand, you take a couple of puffs, breathing in and out slowly.

“Woah. I guess you could say I took your breath away.”

You shoot him a look but can’t help but burst out laughing. James' laugh follows.

“No, seriously though. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit winded.”

James smirks, seemingly a bit too proud. “Sorry about that,” he says with fake sympathy.

“Sorry about what? Trying to eat my face off or trying to take me in the back of my car?”

James' face goes bright red. You don’t understand how he can be so confident yet so easily embarrassed.

“I-I okay, woah, I-” He stutters over his words.

“Gosh James, I thought you’d have a bit more class than that.”

He scoffs, “I have plenty of class and I don’t think I heard any complaints from you.”

You shrug, “Could’ve been better.”

James' jaw falls open in disbelief. “Oh really now.”

“Yup”

Before you know it he’s bringing you down to your back and you let out a yelp of surprise.

“Well since you’re so great I guess you’ll have to help me practice.”

You hum. “Oh yes, you’ll need all the practice you can get.”

James lets out a loud laugh, making your heart flutter. “Yeah, well let's hope you don’t have to reach for your inhaler every 5 minutes.”

You smack his shoulder. “Hey! I am a star athlete. I don’t think a little acti-”

James cuts you off, bringing his lips to yours. This time it's soft and sweet. James pulls away. “Talking to you is going to be a lot easier now that I can do that.”

“Keep talking and that’ll be the last time you get to do that.”

James nods quickly. “Yes ma’am. Message received.”

With a nod from you, James is back on you. He leans into you heavily, moving his lips with yours. You reach up for his glasses, feeling them start to dig into your face. James' hand comes to your wrist, stopping you. Pulling away, he rushes out a ‘wait!’

You look at him confused. “What?”

“Don’t take them off.”

“James, as much as I love your glasses, they’re digging into my face.”

James blinks at you with a slight pout on his face. “I can’t see anything when I take them off.”

“Okay?”

He sighs, “I can’t see you when I take them off.”

You roll your eyes at him. “James Potter you are such a sap.”

He rolls his eyes back at you. “Yeah, well you’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I suppose I will. Okay they can stay on”

James smiles brightly. “Yay! Now shut up and let me kiss you.”

And who are you to deny him?

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

“Alright, you guys did great today! Don’t forget to tell your parents that there won't be any classes next week.” you hear a chorus of answers promising they will. Considering you’re talking to a bunch of toddlers, you make a mental note to send out an email.

You guide them off the ice and towards their parents, waving bye to them all.

You’ve been helping teach the toddler class while their coach is out of town. Doc hadn't fully cleared you but gave you the green light to teach the little ones.

You make your way towards the office to drop off the sign-in forms. When you walk in, you’re greeted by a smiling Remus.

“Hello, love. How are the tots?”

You give him a tired smile, “Rambunctious as always.”

Remus laughs, taking the papers from you. “You think you’d take this opportunity to get away from this place but no.”

You lean forward on the counter. “And miss out on seeing you every day? No way.”

Remus shakes his head, turning away from you. Ears slightly pink. “You’re insufferable.”

Before you can respond you hear someone else enter the office. More like two someones.

James and Sirius walk over to where you’re talking to Remus. James' eyes shift from you to Remus’ red ears and then back to you.

“Hey, I thought I told you to stop flirting with Remus.” He says with a slight frown.

You shrug, “I’ve done no such thing.”

James rolls his eyes. “Yeah right. Liar.”

Sirius and Remus erupt in laughter as James pouts.

Sirius ruffles James' hair. “Oh James, it’s sweet that you think you can stop whatever it is they’ve got going on.”

James huffs, pointing at Remus. “You’ve got to stop whatever alluring charm you’ve got going on.”

Sirius laughs harder. Remus gives James a cheeky smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just myself.”

You swoon dramatically at his words. “Oh, Remus.”

“Hey! No, don't swoon!” James says, looking frantically between the two of you.

Remus and Sirius roar in laughter at his reaction.

With the other two still laughing, James walks over to you. You give him a sweet smile.

He frowns at you. “Why do you insist on giving me a hard time?”

“Someone's got to keep you on your toes, humble you a bit.” He glares at you but breaks into a smile of his own.

With Sirius and Remus now wrapped up in their own conversation, James leans in a bit closer.

“Hm, humble me? How can I be humble when you’re praising me all the time when we-” You slap a hand over his mouth, blushing furiously. You feel him smirk against your hand.

He reaches for your wrist, pulling your hand away, giving it a soft kiss. “How were the lessons?” He says changing the subject.

“They were great. Lenny didn’t cry at all this time.”

He gives you an encouraging pat on the waist. "Nice, and what about your foot?”

You shrug, “It feels fine. I think stretching before ice time helps.”

James smiles. “You’ve been doing the stretches?”

You nod. He gives you a high five “That's my girl.”

He goes silent, looking between you and his friend's chit-chatting. He leans in, whispering into your ear.

“Hey, when's your appointment with Doc again?”

You think for a minute. “Um, not till this afternoon, why?”

“So you’re free right now?”

“Yeah”

“What a coincidence, so am I.” He says with a mischievous look in his eyes.

A moment pauses.

“Well. What are you waiting for?”

James springs into action. His hand grabs yours, leading the both of you out of the office.

“Hey, where are the two going?”

Without turning around James yells out “Practice” You can’t help but laugh at the confused responses you get from Sirius and Remus.

James continues down his path, determined.

“Wait James, what about my bag and my-”

He pats the side of his bag. Hanging from a chain is one of your backup inhalers. You stare at him in shock. With a quick kiss on the forehead and a cheeky smile, James continues to drag you both out of the rink.

Practice does ensue.

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

A present to you all for being MIA.

I pinky promise I'm working on the Peter series!

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter x you #marauders era

65 notes · View notes

maroonpascal · 3 days ago

Text

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re bored at home and you prepare a little surprise for your man

Warnings: 18+ smut, MDNI, age gap, no outbreak!au, soft!joel, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), swearing, spanking, coming untouched, cursing, use of pet names (my girl, babe, babygirl, angel, my love, good girl, princess), use of “slut” (just once)

The only one you’ve ever been with and then only one you would want to be with for the rest of your life; no one knows you as much as he does, your favourite clothes, favourite drink and favourite… positions.

You came home earlier that day, and after a shower you decided to put on the blue lingerie, Joel’s favourite. Because If he knows what your favourite things are, well you definitely know his. A glance at the mirror as you’re clipping the thighs to the blue laced garter belt, and everything looks in place, biting a bit your lip thinking of how that set is gonna be stripped off of you as soon as he will set foot inside the house; it’s not that cold, so you just grab one of his plaid shirts and wear it buttoning it up, leaving though the last buttons open, part of your chest visible with a shadow of the blue lace under. You try to do everything to keep yourself occupied, but having prepared that way for him already got yourself aroused at the thought of what is gonna happen when he’s gonna see you in that tempting set; and there it is, feeling becoming already wet, not daring to touch yourself but closing your legs as you’re on the couch, trying to read but everything you can see on the pages are the words that are gonna fall from Joel’s lips. You check your phone, shouldn’t be too long before he’s gonna be home but that wait is already driving you crazy, more than once having to stop your hand from going down.

You get a tingle when you hear the keys at the door, closing your eyes for a moment and breathing deeply, trying to look composed and not like you had just slipped your hand down your panties, the book ending on the floor.

You hear the water rushing in the kitchen, Joel washing his hands, and then the steps leading to the living room. And there he is, looking effortlessly beautiful in the light of the dying day, silver hair shining and his eyes catching you there on the couch.

“Hey, how’s ma’ girl?”, his deep voice reaches you, his look softening as he sees you in that shirt of his, kissing you already on your lips, beard tickling you. “Good, you see something familiar on me?” You already tease, and the fact that he has no idea of the set makes you even more aroused.

“I see it,” he beams, a hand touching the hem of the shirt, “Looks better on you than me.”, his fingers go up, lingering on the thigh, covered by the black thighs. He goes upper, gasping when he comes in contact with the surprise that you got him. His eyes goes down, rising upper the shirt and revealing the little blue stripes clipped to the thighs, “Oh what you got here, babe?”, he asks the rhetoric question, you smirking up at him, “Find it yourself, I think you’re gonna like it.”

He smiles, you laying back on the couch, letting him start opening the buttons of that shirt. He does it with an almost painful slowness, taking in every inch of your skin that he is letting uncover, starting from the top and a low moan leaves his lips at the sight of that blue lace bra, hugging your shapes perfectly; your heart races when you feel his hand landing on the centre of your chest, smoothing it then on both your breasts, his other hand working on the rest of the buttons. His hands leave your body for a moment when the buttons are all undone, that set shimmering under the orange light of the dying day, and you see that light that you know far too well in his eyes, that light he has when he’s thinking about all the things that he could do to you.

“Fuck, look at you, takin’ all my breath away.” He lets out, you smiling knowing the power that you have on him, that power to bring him to his damn knees whenever you want to, because there isn’t anything that he’s as happy to do in his life as pleasing you in all the ways he can.

His hands smooth on your shoulders, under the shirt, making it fall so that now you have nothing but that set on you, oh and the set of thighs, which he unclips, hands grabbing your skin as he pushes them down.

You widen a bit your legs, while caressing yourself on your chest, and he takes off the jacket, remaining with another plaid shirt of his, before setting himself between your legs, the contrast between your bare skin and his clothes, jeans grinding on your delicate skin. You pull him in a kiss, hand going behind his head, getting lost in those curls, keeping him closer as he pushes his hips against you; you can feel his excitement, moving your hips back, creating a nice friction between you both. Joel leaves your lips, now going lower, hands cupping your breasts, and lips tracing them; he takes your left nipple visible under that lace between his fingertips, pinching it and you moan at that, the little pain already igniting all your senses. His kisses get lower, hands shaping your body, until he reaches the garter and pulls it down, now his look only on that lace that is barely covering you.

You see his expression changing though, and that is when you know that he’s noticed the visible wet stain on the tissue.

A hand goes directly cupping you there, your cunt twitching at that, “Touched yourself before I came home?” he starts, pushing the panties aside and looking at the tissue, and you don’t even have to answer, it is all there. You bite your bottom lip, and there isn’t even a reason to not look guilty, you wouldn’t even know how to not to, it is written all over your face, and your panties too.

“Babygirl couldn’t wait a little longer, already thinkin’ about the way I would have fucked you in this set?” His low deep voice reaches you, as you’re just able to swallow your saliva, in trepidation for what it is gonna entail. Well, you already know.

And you can't wait for that.

“Yes,” you challenge him, Joel not expecting you to answer, stopping his touching on you, you getting a little up on your elbows, “Couldn’t think about anything else, but you.” Your seductive voice feels like honey to him, but it’s not gonna sugarcoat what is gonna happen next.

“Ain’t you a little slut.” Words that are followed by a little but firm slap on your cunt, you moving your hips to that, desperate for that touch. You don’t even flinch, you just look like that’s what you really want.

“You know what to do know.” He instructs, and you twirl your hair still smiling, knowing that it is driving him crazy how you enjoy so much what is gonna happen next; you turn, elbows on the couch, knees well pointed on the couch, and ass up.

“Attagirl.” He satisfyingly says, you feeling the rough jeans on the back of your thighs, brushing on your skin. A hand goes up on your back, reaching the back of your neck, then going lower again, moulding that skin under his palm, you relaxing at that touch that you know so well, and knowing what is coming when the hand goes to cup your cheek, playing with it before a spank is delivered to it.

You whimper lightly at the sudden contact, and you would love to touch yourself to that, but you keep your hands where they are, learning the lesson (you know that you’re gonna break it other hundred times to end up in that position).

A second hit is delivered to the left cheek, the contact being followed by his calloused hands sprawling on your ass, massaging it and you feel his lips kissing each cheek, that tenderness such a contrast to the firmness he delivered those spanks with.

“Can my girl take a couple more?” you feel his voice on your skin, there on your hip, kisses all over your skin and you nod. He sees you nodding but he taps the hip with his finger anyway, “Need to hear it, babe.”

You take a big breath, “Yes, I can.” You say firmly, lips brushing more on your hips and then on your ass, “Good girl.”

The third one lands on your skin, firm as you like it, and as strong as his hand can deliver, a hand immediately massaging it. He likes doing that, but you know how much he’s always careful to not hurt you too much, always giving you breaks to prepare for the next one and you think that contrast in him is probably the thing that you love the most. You’re lost in these thoughts when the next one hit, you whimpering a little more just because of how your mind had wandered.

The familiar tender touch goes to mend the hit, soft as if that hand hadn't just spanked you.

He spreads a bit further your knees, and a hand goes again over the centre of your panties, that cold wetness sticking in the panties even more than before, now even more aroused after that spanking.

“Last one.” To which you respond with a loud yes, and where it gets delivered leaves you without breath.

His hand has landed right in the centre, on your cunt, the obscene sound of the wetness filling the room, pain igniting you even more. “Fuck.” You cry, legs almost shaking, his hand going to cup that centre, that wet tissue under his palm, and you almost squirm, trying to catch your breath.

The panties get pushed to one side, “Oh fuck me.” He exhales seeing how wet you are, dripping for him and him only.

“Like what you see?” You tease him once you got your breath back, and all you get in response is his finger going between your slick folds, dividing them, a knuckle pushing against that wetness.

Thumbs go spreading you even more open, the cold air hitting you, but it is soon replaced by his breathing, “So much, you can’t even imagine it.” He lets out before diving in you, lips kissing you there and you moan loudly, arching more your back and so you’re spreading even more your legs for him. He licks and kisses, then brushing his finger on you, touching you almost delicately until he reaches your clit, fingertip pressing there and circling it as he goes back to make love to you with his mouth, obscene kisses being left there. A high pitched scream leaves your lips when he presses his tongue into you, warm and wet, shutting your eyes at that pleasure. He twirls his tongue, as you push your hips even further, the stimulation already sending you over the edge; the shape of his nose brushes on you as he goes deeper, and it’s all so much, your heartbeat racing.

Fingers trace from your clit to your soft plush, his lips leaving you as he takes back his breath, letting his fingers moving over you, but still not inside you. And you want that, you want it so much and so desperately, that you don’t even realise you just said it out loud.

“What’s that my princess need?” He lavishly asks, his voice so much deeper, his other hand brushing on your back; “Repeat it, babe.” He insists, seeing how you’re just muffling those words against a pillow of the couch.

“Want your… your fingers.” You whimper, trying to keep up your knees, even though they’re so close to give up, too much pleasure that you could just collapse on the cushions below.

“Be more specific.” He repeats, a light spank on your left cheek, you hissing at that and your body responding by getting even more wet, if possible.

“I want your fingers inside me.” You then cry, hands grabbing that damn pillow for dear life, and you can feel Joel smirking on your back, before leaving a kiss on the small of your back.

That is how he’s slowly pushing a fingertip inside of you, stretching you and slicking in so perfectly that it lets out a moan out of him, pushing until his knuckle and then almost getting it all out before pushing all back in again. A slow but deep pace is built, a second finger getting pushed in, your folds welcoming it so well; that is when your knees start to tremble though and so, lost in the whole pleasure, mind fogged by it, you search for the words to tell him that you want to lay down. Nothing is gonna happen if you did it without asking, but you just want to make him aware of that.

“Joel, I- I need to-”

You don’t even get to finish your phrase that he’s gently holding your hips and guiding them down, then brushing the back of his hands on the back of your legs; you breathe deeply, letting your body relax, before you can see him kneeling next to your face, kissing your forehead carefully, brushing your hair back, “Thank you.” You breathe, him nodding, his features bathed in that sunlight.

Your hand reaches his beard, him kissing your palm and holding it in his, brushing his thumb over it; your hand is so small compared to his, beard tickling your palm, making you smile.

The way he looks at you, the full adoration in his eyes that makes your heart flutter and your cunt twitching as you have been postponing your orgasm.

“I still want to come for you.” You utter, killing the distance between your lips, kissing him, and biting lightly his bottom lip, your taste still there, trapped on his lips and on that silverish beard.

“Turn around for me then, angel.” And you do as asked, laying with your back against the couch, your back thanking you, and you already widen your legs for him again; panties get pushed down and end up on the floor, Joel taking in the sight of those folds slicked and your cunt getting swollen, waiting to be touched and kissed again, only to finally rose.

“Alright, so where were we?” He jokingly asks, making you giggle, as he’s getting settled between your legs, laying too on the couch.

“I think that you were eating me out so good that you brought me to my knees.” And Joel loves how you got your breath back, he loves how you respond to him, how you hold your own and challenge him.

“ ’m gonna start again from that, then.” He devilishly smiles as you see his head disappearing down there, letting out a moan when you feel again that tongue on you, now caressing directly your clit, arms going under your thighs and then anchoring his hands over them, guiding them open as much as he likes to.

You thank him mentally for that, because your first impulse was to close your legs, shying away from that touch, almost denying yourself of that pleasure that is gonna make you explode real soon. Your hand reaches his, him responding by intertwining his fingers to yours, that touch being as intimate as his tongue pushing once again inside you, letting out of you a high pitched cry.

You can’t help but let the other hand reach his dust silvered hair, letting it get lost in it, soft under your fingers and when you look down it is quite a view, seeing him there between your legs; that is when he rises up a bit his head, still working on you with his tongue, and locks his gaze with yours, you melting under that look, seeing his nose with a stain shining on it, just like his moustache looks shinier with your pleasure on it. It’s outrageous and beautiful at the same time, his tongue not giving signs of leaving your clit until you’re gonna cum over it, sounds filling the room, the light outside leaving the place for the incoming darkness.

You shiver at the way the beard brushes on the inside of your thighs, knowing that they’re gonna need some soothing cream after all of this, but it’s all worth it.

Pleasure is building more and more inside of you, still trying to postpone your orgasm, never wanting all of that to ever end. You would want him eating you out for even the whole night, knowing that Joel would give it all to you, no questions asked.

He’s breathing you all in, in fact, enjoying all of that and brushing his hips against the couch, the desperate need for some contact to ease his aching length, to give himself that release that he has been postponing, just like you’re doing with yours, because actually at the moment only your pleasure exists and he can endure that, this is all about you.

Juices have wetted his beard and all his chin, him swallowing everything that you can give to him, and he gets pleasure from that.

It’s when he’s sucking on your clit, almost ravenous, that your body can’t take it anymore and you know that you can’t hold it no more.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you repeat his name like a mantra, like it is all that you know, the only word that your mouth can pronounce, all your vocabulary having been reduced to just one name.

“Give it all to me, baby.” He encourages you, his voice so fucking deep that you start orgasming already that, keeping it going once he places his lips over your clit again, kissing it messily, tongue making you an even worse mess. Your moans are loud, riding that pleasure, your body igniting like it’s being shocked, shaking under that touch and all your pleasure filling his mouth, those damn lips making you scream, arching your back and seeing fucking stars behind your shut eyelids.

A series of bad words leave your lips, biting your own hand and your legs shaking uncontrollably, chest going up and down so fast, heart in your neck, your ears, pulsing everywhere.

And Joel lets his head collapse on your hip, thrusting once again against the couch and finally releasing, coming untouched and with all his clothes on, such is your power on him.

You feel light pecks all over your hips, leaving wet traces, then on your tummy and upper on your chest, finally reaching then your lips and you kiss him with so much passion, both your hands cupping his face, melting in that kiss and in that tenderness that he’s giving you.

He leaves your lips to leave a kiss on the tip of your nose, making you smile softly, his adoring eyes taking in your relaxed face and reddened cheeks.

“I love you so much.” He lets out, brushing your hair behind your ear, and your heart explode even more than before, always getting the same feeling when he pronounces those words.

“I love you too.” You exhale and you let him place his head on your chest, him laying his weight on you, brushing a hand in his hair.

“God, your heartbeat, is that all for me?” He says, brushing his hand on your left part of the chest, still that bra on you.

“Yes, all for you my love.” Words fall from your lips like the most expensive velvet and you adore how he takes in every single detail of you.

“Uhm, Joel… did you come or should I do something…” you leave the words hanging , having embraced him in a hug, breaking those moments of silence that had followed your orgasm.

You see him rising himself on his arms.

“Babygirl, you got your ol’ man coming in his clothes.”

And you try so hard to not laugh, but you inevitably burst out laughing anyway, laugh reverberating the living room, him chuckling too and soon you’re both laughin, high in that post orgasm haze, seeing him duck his head; Joel goes to hide his face on the crook of your neck, still laughing and you couldn’t be more in love with him, with this man whose laugh is the most beautiful sound in the whole world, this man that if he could would give the whole world to you.

#joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #mine

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hearts4johnwick · 3 days ago

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SUMMARY. your school has a football game against smallville. after the game clark kent approaches you and asks if you want to hang out, but there’s one problem.

CW. academic rivals—except clark and reader rlly don’t hate each other, reader’s “boyfriend” doesn’t take no for an answer, fighting, fluff.

A/N. guys… before you read, i have to say I JUST started watching smallville 😭 I’m on season 1 ep 5, so some I’m going to be improvising some stuff, so, clark isn’t going to be like s1 clark, he’s going to be a bit like red k clark? so, there’s that. the ending lowkey makes me mad 😔 but yall lmk if yall want a pt 2 maybe? 😗

you and your cheerleaders celebrate your team for winning the football game against smallville with chants, flips, and jumps. you guys were happy that you won after losing two games in a row, first one was against gotham and the other against central city, which was weird because these teams haven’t won against metropolis in decades, but, the team won once again and that’s what matters tonight.

“troy’s in for a real treat tonight, huh?” your friend avery cocks her eyebrows and you chuckle. “he scored the winning touchdown, you have to rock his world, baby.” she winks at you and goes with her other cheerleading friends. your tongue runs over your teeth as you try to hide your annoyed face.

the footballers run over to the squad and you stand aside, you’re the captain, you should be there sharing the moment with them, but you don’t, you stay a few feet away ruffling your Pom poms and smiling.

you have a few friends from smallville since you were raised there, you and your brother moved to metropolis with your parents because your father had been offered a nice job there, and he took it. you recognize lana lang, whitney fordman, chloe sullivan, pete ross, and of course, clark kent.

your dad and his were practically brothers, they were inseparable ever since the sixth grade, but as they grew older, before moving to metropolis, clark’s father suddenly stopped associating with your father. you never knew why, it wasn’t your business, but now that you see clark’s face, you might ask your father.

your thoughts are interrupted by a figure standing in front of you, you focus back and it’s none other than clark kent!

“i gotta say… your dancing skills were always bad, but now? oh, they got worse.” you raise an eyebrow as he grimaces.

“yeah? well at least i still don’t run like I’m scared of tripping my own feet.” you press your lips into a thin line.

“you know, every time your squad threw you up in the air i was waiting for them not to catch you and let you fall into the dirt.”

“i didn’t see your dad here… guess he still regrets the decision to adopt you.” you click your tongue and he chuckles.

“okay, I’m going to give you that one.” you smile and shrug.

“what are you doing here, kent?” you question.

“you’re in my school’s football field, if there’s someone that should be here, it’s me.” he furrows his eyebrows.

“yeah no, after that nasty loss? might have to claim this as our territory now.” clark scoffs and looks down. “7-24? yikes!” you exclaim and inhale sharply through your teeth. “go home, kent, or else our team will show you no remorse.” you cross your arms together and he gets closer, towering over you.

“what about you? what will you do?” your eye contact is strong, and you’re teasing him with a cocky smile, but his charming eyes get you weak in the knees, you scoff and look down, giving in.

“i’m not going to do anything, i don’t have the heart.” you pursed your lips. in a blink, you notice clark’s hand shielding your face, in his hand was the football that connor, the linebacker from your team just threw. you didn’t even notice how badly you flinched, but you stayed still, staring at clark’s heroic move in awe, your eyes travel from his hand holding the football, to him. and you swear that something inside you snapped, the way he made the football stop from hitting you, how fast he reacted, that made you feel something you didn’t even know clark kent was possible of making you feel.

“holy—! i’m so sorry, y/n, i didn’t mean for it to go in your direction!” connor apologizes, but you shoot him a death glare.

“what the hell is your problem, connor?!” troy pushes connor and rolls his eyes.

“i didn’t mean to throw it at her! it was meant for kent!” clark rolls his eyes and throws the football back to him.

“thank you, kent.” you slowly straighten yourself up. “that was crazy, what on earth are you training for that makes your reflexes so fast?” you question and he just shrugs with a smile.

silence engulfs the two of you and it feels awkward, the only thing heard was the screaming and chanting of your cheerleading squad and the football team. clark’s eyes narrow from all around, to you, he feels nervous around you, but, the worst thing she can say is no, he thinks, so he—

“y/n.” he calls you and catches your attention. “i was thinking if maybe you’d like to hang out… later.” you shoot him a soft smile and he analyzes your reaction. “i mean, i-if you can, I’m sure you’re going to celebrate your win with your squad and team, nevermind..” he shakes his head, regretting he even asked you. ‘it’s not like she was going to go out with you anyway, clark, she’s with troy.’ he thinks. he thought it’d be game over until—

“no, i don’t plan on celebrating, i wanna be alone, you know? i don’t want to party or anything. i-i mean, I’d like to be alone with you.” you close your eyes and shake your head once you realize what you said. clark can feel the heatness creeping up his face and he laughs. “oh my gosh… i mean that like, yes! I’d like to hang out with you!” ‘jeez, no way I’m actually this awkward. I’m literally embarrassing myself oh my God, I’m going to cry’ you thought.

“great! maybe we can meet up in the beanery? it’s—“ your eyes widen and you shake your head.

“the beanery? that old thing?” you question and clark furrows his eyebrows.

“hey!” you raise your hands in defense.

“no, we’re going somewhere better, there’s this diner in central city called dine fine, we can go there, we can dine something or share a milkshake, whatever you’d like!” you smile at him and he nods.

“okay, sounds great! it’s a da—“ your smile turned into an annoyed look when you felt arms wrap around you and lips kiss your cheek. troy, your “boyfriend” watches clark’s expression change and shoots him a wink. clark can feel his face heat up, and it’s not blushing, or jealousy, he closes his eyes to avoid burning troy to a crisp.

“what’s up, kent?” troy greets clark with a bitch attitude. “she’s precious, isn’t she?” your eyes avoid troy’s, but are glued onto clark, and he can see you’re feeling uncomfortable, and you don’t know how badly he wants to smack the hell out of troy and tell him to back off from you. and he doesn’t know how badly you want him to do it. troy raises an eyebrow, urging him to answer the question.

“yes, she is, troy. you’re a lucky guy.” clark’s eyes never leave you, troy notices how yours don’t either, and his nose flares.

“i know.” he smiles. troy pulls you aside, away from clark. “hey, we’re going out to celebrate, you want us to go back to my place, or go out?” he asks you, and you pull away, shaking your head.

“it’s okay, troy, i don’t want to go out.” you cross your arms and troy smirks, he glances at clark behind you.

“okay, so, you want to go back to mine?” he asks, and you furrow your eyebrows.

“no.” troy’s eyebrows raise in reaction to your tone, and clark hides a smile, and forces back down his laugh.

“okay, whatever, we’re going to go out and celebrate, let me know if you change your mind.” you nod and he leaves. your friend alanna walks over to you and locks her arm around yours.

“ready to go?” she asks and you nod.

“yeah, give me a second, I’ll be right there.” your friend nods with a cute smile and her eyes narrow between you and clark before she walks to her car.

“so, I’ll see you maybe at 8?” clark questions.

you nod at his timing and he smiles. “I’ll see you there, kent.” you turn in your heels and walk to your friend's car.

clark admires you from head to heels and god, you in that skimpy cheerleading outfit did something to him. he blows out a breath after admiring your figure and smiles to himself, trying to hold back on his thoughts. he can’t believe he’s going to see you again later, and neither can you.

you tell alanna to take you to your grandma’s house so you can shower and change your clothes. since you visit your grandma quite often, you have clothes you wear once in a while there, so after a shower, you ready yourself and head to central city right after you’re done.

since alanna is heading to metropolis due to work, she gives you a ride to the diner where you are meeting up with clark. “have fun, sweetheart, love ya!” she blew you a kiss before driving away. you blew her a kiss back and waved goodbye.

you don’t see clark inside, but you decide to enter anyway, and just as you are a few feet away from the entrance doors, your name is called out, and when you look at where the voice is coming from you notice it’s clark, your face lights up, and so does his.

‘woah.’ clark thinks to himself, for some reason, he thinks you look better in casual clothes than in your cheerleading outfit. not that he’s complaining, he loves your cheerleading outfit, the colors favor you and it shows the perfect amount of everything.

‘damn.’ you think to yourself. he’s wearing a cap with a graphic tee that shapes his biceps perfectly. ‘forget the damn diner, I wanna dine him!’ you lick your lips to hide your smile at the thought.

“hey.” he greets you first with his pearly smile.

“hi.” you say right back and also give him your pearly smile.

he places his hand behind your shoulder and you lead the way, he opens the door for you and you go inside, the 80’s music is at the perfect volume, it smells amazing inside, and overall the vibe is nice.

you sit down at one of the benches and clark sits in front of you. “is there something you want in specific?” he asks.

“we could order some fries with some nuggets, unless you actually wanna find something?” your eyes meet and he stays silent, studying your eyes he opens his mouth to speak, yet nothing comes out. you laugh and look back at the menu.

“whatever you want.” clark answers your question. “I’m okay with whatever you decide.”

“okay, well, I’ll order some fries and nuggets, and ooh! you have to try their strawberry milkshake, it’s so good, so, we’re ordering that too!” clark’s eyes stay glued on you, your excitement makes his heart melt, he loves this side of you. ever since you moved to metropolis, he thought you’d turned into this cocky, mean, captain of the cheerleading squad, but, he’s been proven completely wrong. he still sees that little bullet of a girl with princess band-aids all over her arms, and legs in your personality. “is it okay if we order that?”

“as i said, y/n. whatever you want.” he nods and you smile widely with a chuckle. “you know, for some reason, i thought that when you moved to metropolis you turned into this mean, and cocky cheerleader, but no. can i ask? why aren’t you celebrating out there with your squad and team?”

“I’m nothing like that, the rest of my squad? maybe—except alanna! but i don’t like that whole cocky mean girl vibe, i tried it, just to fit in, but fitting in is stupid, so, outside i might seem like that, but once you get to know me, i’m not.” clark nods, paying his every single attention to you. “and the thing is i don’t celebrate with them because they have a really weird way of celebrating and i don’t want to be getting drunk or anything. I’d rather be relaxed, or hanging out with my real friends, you know?” clark nods.

“i like that.” your eyes find their way back to his and you smile. “i don’t want to sound nosy, but… you and troy?” he watches the drastic change in your face from happy to disgusted and he laughs. “that bad, huh?”

“it’s all fake. the football coach just wanted that typical “captain of the football team and captain of the cheerleading squad” love story, but, there’s not one ounce of love between us.”

“i mean, i see love in his eyes.” clark mentions and you scoff.

“lust is what you’re seeing, clark.” you hold your breath and clark closes his eyes. “i can’t stand him, he’s a jerk, he doesn’t take no for an answer and it’s the worst, someone always has to come in and step in, even his teammates.” you roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” you dismiss him with a shrug. “i saw it in your eyes today, that’s what i saw, and i wanted to do something, but i thought it wasn’t my place. i should’ve done something. i hated seeing him on you like that.” clark shakes his head and looks away from your eyes, you place your hand on his forearm, your warm touch sends him goosebumps all over his body, your eyes speak a million words, and his mind runs a thousand thoughts as he takes in every inch of your perfect face, your eyes, your lips.

“thank you, for at least knowing the right thing to do. also, thank you for that crazy save from me getting hit by a football.” you both share a laugh and he nods. he places a hand over yours and smiles.

“you’re welcome, and, you’re welcome.” your smile relaxes into a softer one, and the two of you stay staring into each other’s eyes, no other words need to be spoken, your eyes already do.

his ocean eyes tell you everything you need to know, does he need to admit how he feels right now? his heart racing, how he wants to feel your soft hands all over his body? his eyes are saying all of that to yours.

and yours? your eyes are begging for him to save you. for him to make you forget who troy even is. one more look and you swear you’re moving back to smallville, or more specifically, his bed.

“clark…” the way his name rolls off your tongue is something he could never get tired of, he prays that whatever comes out of your pretty little mouth is an invitation.

“kent!” the familiar voice knocks you both out of your trance and your eyes widen. you look back and see troy and half of his teammates walk behind him. “you mind getting your hands off my girl?”

“troy…” you whisper.

“you shut up, okay? get in the car. we’re going back to metropolis.” troy points at you with his index finger, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“you call her your girl and then treat her like that?” clark raises an eyebrow and stands from the bench. your heart begins to race and not in a good way. there’s no possible way this is going to end well.

“she’s my girl, kent, that means that since she’s mine, i get to treat her however i want.” troy’s teammates share uncomfortable glances and shake their heads.

“she is not your pet, troy. you need to treat her right, like she’s the woman you love because that’s what she is, isn’t she?” clark towers over troy and you like that, you like that very much, apart from the fact that he’s defending you. but you push back your feelings and thoughts, because you’re scared right now, scared for both in reality.

“and if i don’t? you think you will? in your dreams, kent.” he scoffs, and walks over to you, grabbing your hand. “come on, y/n. we’re going home.” he raises you from your seat, and you stand beside him. just when you thought this could all end here, Clark decides to open his mouth.

“i would treat her better than you ever have.” your mouth opens, and you try your best to hide your smile. when troy’s grip around you loosens, your face drops.

next thing you see is troy swinging at clark with a right hook, you back away and troy’s teammates hold you back. “no!” you exclaim at troy’s punch. thankfully, clark reacted quickly and dodged it, but then, clark grabbed troy by the collar of his shirt and pressed him against the wall.

“clark, no!” you stop him from causing further damage and he slowly lets go of troy. you wanted to troy get what he deserved, but, just not now. the time will come. “let’s just go.”

“i don’t want to see you step foot in smallville again. if i so much as see your face, or hear that you did something to her, i’ll deal with you for good.” clark throws in before walking off. you follow behind him and leave the diner.

you were still trying to process what the hell just happened in there, clark defended you and went face-to-face with troy because he disrespected you. ‘oh my god?’

clark has his back against you, your eyes look up and he turns. “clark… what—“ you blink repeatedly.

“y/n. if he ever lays a single finger on you again, you let me know, alright?” you nod and hum. he nods and caresses your arm. “are you okay?” he asks and you hum.

“uh-huh…” clark chuckles and you inch closer to him.

you don’t exactly what you feel right now, but it feels good, and you hope he can help you with it because he’s the reason you’re feeling like this. your eyes are searching for an answer, ‘does he want this? because i sure do.’

“how far is your grandma’s house from here?” you pause in your daydreams to answer his question.

“like 15 minutes, i know the way.” you answer.

“okay, but, you’re not going alone.”

“why not? you don’t think i can handle myself?”

“oh, i know you can handle yourself, but, let me take you, ‘kay?” you smile at his offer and suck on your bottom lip before you lead the way.

the walk to your grandma’s house was silent, thankfully, it wasn’t uncomfortable silence, but the two of you were on the verge of speaking, you just had no idea of what. of the sexual tension before troy ruined it? of the almost fight? how clark defended you? why did he defend you exactly? God, you think that whatever the answer is, it’d land you both on top of each other.

clark can see how your heart is beating quickly, and he doesn’t know if it’s because you’re either scared, mad, nervous, or maybe just turned on. it’s the fourth option, you know that very well, but he thinks it’s the second.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” he speaks, breaking the eternal lasting silence between you two. “i-i didn’t mean to scare you or make you mad by what happened at the diner. it’s just… you don’t deserve that asshole.” the two of you stop in your tracks. you flutter your eyelashes at him and he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever, he swallows before speaking again. “and I’m also sorry that we didn’t get to share a milkshake.”

“apology not accepted,” you say. his face drops and your eyebrows furrowed. “they’re not needed, clark.” he sighs in relief and you smile. you continue your walk, you’re about 3 minutes away from your grandma’s house, but you wish it were hours instead, you do not want to say goodbye to him at all.

“i’m glad we could share this night, clark.” as you arrive at your grandma’s house, you stop your feet and turn to face him. the only light that’s making you able to see each other is your grandma’s porch lighting. “would’ve been better if we could’ve shared a milkshake, but…” you sputter and he chuckles.

“it’s okay, just a moment with you is enough for me.” his words made your knees weak, you lick your lips and suck your bottom lip in, close your eyes, and feel his index finger brushes your cheek. your eyes open and reunite with his.

“can we stay like this?” you whisper, as your eyes travel to his lips.

“yeah.” he whispers back, his finger still caressing your cheek.

his hand finds its way to your waist and he pulls you forward, your chest touching his, your breathing matches and you’re still deep into each other’s eyes.

‘if only he knew I’m sending him the most straightforward invitation to come inside.’ you think right as your eyes remove themselves from his lips and back into his eyes.

your tongue traces over your teeth and you smile. you look down to the ground and lean forward. you press a soft kiss on clark’s cheek and he closes his eyes. when you back away, your lips are so close to each other, and his eyes have the green light on for your lips to move to his, and as much as you want to, you don’t, though you could feel his slightly rose yours.

“i’ll be seeing you around, kent.” you smirk as you run your hand over his arms, again, your gentle touch sends goosebumps through his body, the second your fingertips are removed from his skin, he misses you already, all he wishes to do is turn you back around and make you all his for the rest of the night.

your heels touch the ground and you turn, approaching your grandmother’s steps, you tease him with a look back and a mocking grin, and he chuckles as he watches your expression. the second you enter the door he runs back to his house, but, safe to say that wasn’t the end of his night.

❛ ‘cause you’re a good girl and you know it

you act so different around me. ❜

#gigi writes dc ✹#clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x you #smallville #smallville fic #superman #superman x reader #superman x y/n #superman x you #tom welling #tom welling x reader #tom welling x you #tom welling x y/n

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mssorceressupreme · 3 days ago

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Working Late Pt. 2 | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Your boss does not take lightly to people flirting with his favourite employee, and wants you to know you're his and his only.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, boss/employee, possessive!fred, teasing, jealousy, office sex, fingering, dom!fred, sub!reader, p in v, penetration, coming, overstimulation, praising ———

It was another energetic day at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and you were in high spirits. The shop was packed, the air buzzing with chatter and laughter as customers marvelled at the shelves bursting with magical novelties.

You’d felt like dressing up today, slipping on a short but tasteful black dress that cinched at your waist and flowed just above your knees. It was modest but cute, perfectly suited for the carefree atmosphere of the shop.

Fred had already complimented you earlier in his usual teasing manner, a smirk tugging at his lips as he’d said, “Trying to steal all my customers with that dress, are you?” You’d rolled your eyes playfully punching him, but your heart had fluttered all the same.

Today was no different than any other day, however that changed when the afternoon took a turn, a familiar voice catching your attention.

“Is that… Y/N?”

You turned to find none other than Oliver Wood standing before you, looking as dashing as ever in a red fitted jacket and his signature confident grin.

“Oliver!” you exclaimed, genuinely pleased to see him. “It’s been ages!”

“It has,” he said, his eyes sweeping over you with unmistakable appreciation. “You’ve… changed. Hogwarts didn’t do you justice.”

A faint blush crept up your neck, and you laughed softly. “Well, I guess we all grow up, don’t we?”

As you chatted, his flirtation became more apparent. He leaned closer when he spoke, his compliments growing bolder. “I always knew you were lovely, but Merlin, you’ve really turned heads now.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Fred watching. He was helping another customer, but his gaze kept shifting back to your interaction with Oliver.

His playful demeanour had vanished, his expression unreadable. He didn’t interrupt, but his gaze lingered, sharp and brooding.

When Oliver finally left with his purchases, you turned to Fred, hoping for a witty remark or a teasing jab, but he was already busying himself with a display. He hadn’t said a word, not even a glance in your direction.

The rest of the day was tense. Fred barely acknowledged you, answering your questions with curt nods or single-word replies. It was as if he’d built an invisible wall between you, and it stung more than you cared to admit.

"Hey Freddie, a customer wanted out inquire about a stock refill. When are the next batch of Puking Pastilles arriving? They're currently all sold out and-" You approached him while the customer you were serving continued browsing, awaiting your answer.

"Next week." Fred said, a little too bluntly before walking away, avoiding your gaze as he did so.

You nodded slowly, approaching the customer with a forced smile though you were a bit hurt by Fred's bluntness, "The next batch will arrive next week, Monday I believe, best come early before they sell out again miss."

"Sounds perfect love, I'll be here first thing next week then!" She chimed before leaving with her two kids.

During a lull in the crowd, you approached George who was stationed behind the cash register. The interaction with Fred still lingered in the back of your mind. “Is Fred… okay?” you asked hesitantly.

George looked up from the register, his usual grin in place. "Fred? Seems fine to me, why'd ya ask?"

"He's just...it's like he's avoiding me. Have I done something wrong?" You tilt your head, looking at the ground trying to recall any mistakes you might have made.

“Nah you're doing alright. He’s probably just being a git, as usual. Don’t let it bother you eh?"

But it did bother you.

Fred’s cold shoulder gnawed at you, and the more he ignored you, the more determined you became to get a reaction.

An opportunity presented itself when you passed by him in one of the narrower aisles.

As you squeezed past, you brushed against him deliberately, letting your skirt graze his thigh and pressing just enough to make it unmistakable. Smirking, you swayed harder against one particular spot in his trousers.

Fred inhaled sharply, his hands reflexively gripping your waist for a brief moment before you stepped away.

You didn’t look back, but you felt the heat of his gaze as you continued to the other side of the shop, humming as you strolled away.

As you returned to the register to finish a sale later, you noticed a folded piece of parchment resting on the counter. Your name was scrawled on it in Fred’s familiar handwriting. You unfolded it, your heartbeat rapidly increasing upon reading the words:

“My office. Now. – F”

The knot in your stomach tightened as you made your way upstairs. Merlin, what did he want now?

You pushed open the door to find Fred sitting behind his desk, a glass of whisky in his hand. His eyes were dark, his usual humour replaced by something colder, more commanding, almost scary but not quite.

“Come here,” he said, his voice low and firm.

You stepped closer after shutting the door, your pulse racing. Standing in front of his desk now, you waited, unsure of what to expect.

“Sit on my lap,” he ordered, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving you, following your every move.

You hesitated for a split second before obeying, perching lightly on his lap. His hands came to rest on your thighs, firm but not rough, as if he was testing the boundaries.

“Who said you could flirt with customers?” he asked, his tone laced with jealousy.

“I wasn’t flirting,” you said quickly, your voice soft. “I was just being polite. Accommodating him.”

Fred’s jaw tightened, and he let out a low hum of disapproval. “Accommodating? Is that what you call it?”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt, brushing lightly against your skin. “You’ve got some nerve, you know,” he murmured. “Walking around in this dress, brushing past me like that…”

Your breath hitched, your cheeks burning. “I didn’t mean to—” A white lie.

He cut you off with a soft chuckle, though it lacked humour. “Didn’t mean to, hmm? Then what was that little stunt earlier? Testing me, were you?”

You didn’t know how to respond, his intensity leaving you flustered and unsure.

Slowly but sensually, Fred began caressing your inner thigh, stroking softly and inching his way up to your clit, but not quite touching it. Though only a simple gesture, you felt a rush to your core, finding yourself throbbing and wanting more of his touch.

"You shouldn't have started something you can't finish love." He cooed into your ear.

You bit your lip, "I can finish it.." confident in your head, but a whisper came out, you felt weak under his touch like this.

"Oh really?" Fred raised a brow, "and how do you plan on doing that?" He was amused by your counter, a smug smirk appearing on that devilishly handsome face of his.

You sat there silently, avoiding eye contact him, unsure of how to respond. To be honest, you were inexperienced, you hadn't been this close to a man, in well, forever.

He chuckled lowly, one hand creeping up your skirt again, his fingertips tracing the hem of your panties causing you to involuntarily move forward.

Your body tenses, you held your breath as he continued. His fingers find your clit, circling it through the fabric of your now soaking panties. You let out a whimper in response to his touch.

Fred then finds the sweet sensitive spot on your neck, attaching his lips and sucking. His free hand reaches up and massages your tits sensually while the other hand continues with your clit.

"Let me show you love, let me take care of you..." He nips at your neck a few times before continuing, "By the time I'm done, the whole store will know my name and that you're mine."

You let out a soft moan as Fred uses two fingers to slide your panties down, the cold air hitting the exposed skin under your skirt.

His pants were now wet, both from you, and his precum. You felt a bit embarrassed that you soaked his pants but he was alright with it, in fact, he loved it.

"I don't want to see anymore flirting in my store, especially not with you." Fred's voice was deep, hoarse and almost possessive.

He presses two fingers inside of you, stretching you before flexing his fingers. You whined in response to his long slender fingers, panting heavily as he begins to work them faster inside of you, stretching you more.

Fred works on your cunt and you feel yourself growing hotter, more desperate for him. You arch your back, one arm is wrapped around his nape and the other gripping the table for support.

You fidget slightly, occasionally twitching due to the pleasure, "Fred...I'm getting close..." You whine.

The tight feeling in your core continues to build up, begging for a release soon. You get louder and louder as Fred continues fingering you, slightly faster now. "Fred!" You moan, you're getting extremely close.

Your back arches again, toes curling, and your left fingers practically are digging into his desk.

"Fred...I'm gonna....I'm gonna cu-" Your orgasm burns, erupting in your cunt and your mind explodes with ecstasy, sending a wave of pleasure over you but Fred doesn't stop, he continues.

"Fred please-" You whine, feeling overstimulated, your breathless and feeling another orgasm coming up.

"Merlin, you're so perfect love." He praises, watching you at his mercy, breathless on his lap.

Hearing him praise you like that, made another orgasm come round the corner. He really knew how to push your buttons, in the all the right ways possible.

"I can't take it! I'm getting close again...Fred! Please-" You whimper, as he picks up the pace again.

"Go on, come for me love. I want to hear your pretty moans, love it when my name slips from that pretty mouth of yours." He praised again, and you let loose.

Your walls throbbed, pulsing incredible fast, another pleasurable wave rushed over your body. "Oh God! Fred!" You moaned, before your head fall against his shoulder weakly.

He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, before carrying you bridal style, getting up from his seat and placing you on his desk.

You sat up straight, facing him, your knees on both sides of his hips and he stood between them.

"You did amazing love." Fred praises, his hands sliding on your thighs, parting them and keeping your legs open for what's to come. His shirt was half unbuttoned, pants soaking, and fluffy hair slightly tousled.

"Please Fred...I want you inside me." You plead, glancing up at him with doe eyes.

He groaned softly upon seeing you in front of him, half naked on the table, and he was about to fuck you. He wanted you so bad, he needed you.

"Alright darling." He hums, unbuttoning his belt, letting his cock spring free.

Your eyes grew wide, you'd always assume he was big, but Merlin, he was packing. You felt yourself grow excited upon seeing him, biting your lip unconsciously.

He wraps a hand around his cock, guiding it to your entrance before pressing into you. The tip of his swollen head easily slides against your wetness, sliding with ease into your eager body.

At the intrusion, you tighten, "Merlin, Fred!" You moan, whimpering as he slides out then presses his hips against yours as he slips his cock all the way inside you, deeper than before.

"Mhm you feel so good around me love, so tight for me." He hums, moving faster, leaning forward to give you a kiss. You kiss him passionately but sweetly, sliding your tongue against his bottom lip while he keeps the same pace thrusting into you.

Your arms rest on the table for support, you tilt your head back whimpering at the pleasure of your hips colliding and feeling Fred inside you.

He keeps his hands planted on your hips, "Fuck, you feel so good Y/N, you're perfect you know that." Fred moans.

"I'm yours Fred..." You wince, "all yours..."

"And I'm yours, no one is going to change that." Fred responds, leaning in for another kiss. "Shit- I'm getting close..." He thrusts harder and faster, his climax quickly building up.

"Gonna release on your stomach love, that all good?" He breathlessly asks, to which you nod as a reply, unable to speak as you feel yourself reaching your climax too.

You don't last any longer, your body tensing as an orgasm erupts through you. You try to speak but only a whine escapes, throwing your head back, you lay on the desk, bare, exposed and breathing heavily.

Fred's hips rock harshly a few more times before slipping out, releasing on your tummy, every last drop coming onto your tummy. "Merlin..." He groans, throwing his head back, his broad shoulders rising and falling.

He removes his hands from your waist, proceeding to help clean you up and adjusting your dress properly. Picking you up, he carries you bridal style and lays you on the long leather couch in his office.

"You can take the rest of the day off if you want love." He leans down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I don't mind working..." You remark, "get to flirt with more people..." Your tone was teasing, smirking to get a reaction out of him.

"Flirt with them and I'll take you right then and there in front of them." He retorted, playfully.

You stand up, walking towards Fred, who was getting changed into something...cleaner and more decent, "So territorial." you spoke, helping him with his tie.

Fred tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Can't have them thinking they have a chance.”

“Please I might as well wear a shirt that says 'Taken by Fred Weasley'...” you joked.

"Not a bad idea..." He hummed, looking down at you while you finished off with his tie.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile, "You know I only have eyes for you Fred Weasley, no one comes close."

“That's my girl,” he said, his tone softer now but still edged with authority. He leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was as possessive as it was tender, leaving you breathless. "My perfect girl."

When he finally pulled back, his eyes held a glint of satisfaction. “Now, get back to work,” he said, a teasing smirk returning to his lips. “There’s more where that came from.”

As you reached the door, you glanced back to find him watching you, his gaze warm now but still with a flicker of desire.

"I'll join you downstairs shortly." He winked, and you felt your cheeks heat again as you shut the door behind you, your heart raced as you returned to the shop floor, acting as though nothing had happened upstairs.

___

"Bloody hell, where were you two?!" George, finishing a sale, waved a customer goodbye before turning to you and Fred.

"We had some business to take care of." Fred answered for you guys, placing his hand on your lower back.

George scoffed, a knowing look flashed in his eyes, darting back and forth between you, "Yeah alright sure, business."

"Well I'm off on a date with Angelina, can you two handle the shop for the few hours?" George continued.

"What do you take me for? A slacker?" Fred replied, "Pft of course we can handle it, now go have fun." He ushered his twin away, and George, confused, grabbed his belongings and waved us goodbye, turning back occasionally to make sure the store didn't crash down under Fred's control.

"Round 2?" Fred whispered, a teasing undertone once George was out of sight.

You playfully hit him, chuckling, "We have a shop to run Weasley!"

He laughed softly, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before getting back to work.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasly x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley #weasley twins #harry potter #hogwarts fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #weasley family #smut

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frogsinflannel · 2 days ago

Text

If I Kiss You Where It's Sore

Rated T | 9-1-1: BuckTommy | 2230 words

“So.” Tommy smiles at Buck from his place between his legs, hands gently cupping his knees. His teeth are showing, white and sharp.

The callouses on his hands catch on the downy leg hair, and he rubs little, teasing circles with his thumbs. Buck feels his face split into an answering grin, one arm tucked under his head and the other laid against his side, his hand resting on his stomach. “So what?” he asks.

Tommy presses his mouth to the meat of Buck’s leg in a slow kiss. There’s no expectation there, no heat, just comfort and ease and the reassuring warmth of skin on skin. They’re both stripped down to just their underwear, in a soft, sleepy bubble in Tommy’s big worn-in bed. The duvet Tommy has is a creamy, striped linen, and it feels cozy and gentle and good where Buck lays on top of it. There’s something approaching luxurious about how comfortable the bedding is, how intentional Tommy was in choosing it. Something about a thing used fully for its intended purpose, enjoyed and well taken care of. Buck gets the feeling that’s how Tommy is with the things he has now: careful. Thoughtful and attentive, and Buck feels envy for every object lucky enough to be tended to with his big, exacting hands.

He gets to be one of those objects again now, and when Tommy’s thumbs circle again in a play of soft-padded kisses a shivery thrill tracks up his spine.

“ So. ” Tommy gives him a look trying too hard to be exasperation. Buck spreads his legs a little wider. See, he’s accommodating, too, making room for Tommy’s broad, broad shoulders. “Did you like the movie?”

Buck laughs and with a mock-scowl Tommy pops the thick, elasticized waistband of his briefs. It snaps in pleasant not-quite-pain against his skin and he wiggles his hips. “The movie? Uh. You think I watched the movie? Hey, let me remind you whose mouth was on whose neck.”

Tommy grins but hides it, scooting up and burying his face in the soft skin of Buck’s inner thigh. He shakes his head, rubbing against him, and Buck feels the gentle scratch of his stubble. “Don’t know what you mean,” he says. Buck sighs, content, and rakes touch-hungry fingers through Tommy’s fluffy, bed-softened hair. It’s another one of those things about him he missed so much. “I mean, did I have my hands on some gorgeous guy? Was I kind of distracted myself, marking him up? Did I touch him so good he lost his mind a little?” Tommy looks up at him then, and his nose scrunches as he beams, playful and teasing, waiting for Buck to give him an answer.

The hand in Tommy’s hair moves down to cup his cheek and Buck thinks–not for the first time–that he’d fall over himself for the chance to touch Tommy, to be in a position where Tommy could touch him. He’s already made a fool of himself for this man, and chances are he’ll be doing it again and again. “A little?” he repeats, lifting one brow. He presses his thumb into the cleft of Tommy’s chin. Tommy’s eyes are soft, worn-denim blue, and Buck watches them flick down to his mouth. He bites his bottom lip, a tease, and feels a hot splash of satisfaction in his belly when Tommy’s gaze zeroes in on the press of his teeth. “Don’t undersell yourself,” he says, and he keeps his voice low and intimate. Soft. “You touched him so good he lost his whole mind.”

One big hand slides up his stomach and taps an arpeggio from his ribs up to his collarbone. There’s a blossoming spot of purple right at the base of his throat, and Tommy presses the tips of two fingers into it–a slow, gently building pressure, just enough for Buck to feel it. He groans and tilts his head back, baring his throat.

It feels like another question, the way Tommy’s hand lays hot and heavy against his clavicle. The way his fingers push bluntly into the bruising warmth his mouth had made. He wants it. Tommy knows he wants it. But things are still petal-soft and new, they’re re-learning the way they fit together. Even in Tommy’s careful hands, it’s a question that needs an answer.

Because Tommy deserves to be tended to.

“Feels good,” he says, and his voice comes out rougher than he means it to. It’s hoarse, a half-whisper that still sounds loud in the quiet of Tommy’s bedroom.

“Yeah?” Tommy glances up and their eyes meet. He looks so pleased, his mouth crooked up and the corners of his eyes creased. Then his gaze travels down–slow, slow–to fix on the point where his hand touches Buck’s skin. Awareness and expectation start to rise and Buck feels the prickle of goosebumps up and down his body.

“Yeah.” Buck swallows. He wonders if Tommy can feel the bob of it. “It’s like… like a memory, but better. ‘S not the same.” He groans when Tommy’s presses in with a touch more pressure, when Tommy’s body shimmies up and Buck can feel him warm and solid against the inside of his thighs. “I can remember how we were the only two people in the theatre—because come on, Tommy, it was a shitty movie, you know this. A-and how you let me put my arm around your shoulders because I was trying to be smooth, and you didn’t say anything even when I wasn’t. You smiled about it and then turned so I couldn’t see it.” He swallows again, working himself up and wanting Tommy to hear what he was saying–god did he want Tommy to hear it. He cups the back of Tommy’s head and bends one leg, bracketing Tommy in with the mountain of his knee. He thumbs at Tommy’s earlobe, scritches gently at his scalp. “You wore your special cologne that I know costs more than you say it does, but it smells so good. And even when I couldn’t see you, because the theatre was too dark, when you leaned in close it brought that scent with you, and I knew you were there.” He gentles his hand and lets his fingers brush through the short hair. “I knew you were there.”

“And then I kissed your neck,” Tommy murmurs.

“Uh-huh,” Buck agrees. He shifts his hips, knows that Tommy can feel that he’s getting hard. Knows that they’re not going to do anything about that yet. “You kissed my neck. I… I felt your teeth but you never bit down. I felt when you sucked. When you…” He lets out a long, breathy exhale and he presses his knee tighter in to Tommy, wants to keep him right where he is for as long as he can. “When you left a mark.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Tommy asks, and his eyes are so dark and his mouth is set and Buck knows what it looks like when it’s soft and open and wanting.

“Yeah it hurts,” he says. He lifts his chest, arches up as much as he can into Tommy’s fingers. “It’s supposed to. I want to know it’s there.”

Tommy sucks in a breath and then, quick for somebody as big as he is, he lifts himself and shimmies up to cover Buck’s body with his, blanketing him strong and solid and warm. He presses a pleading kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth. It tastes bittersweet.

Their legs press together, Tommy’s hips fitted neatly into the cradle of Buck’s pelvis. He hooks an ankle over Tommy’s calf, keeping him snugly in place, and then brushes a hand down the length of Tommy’s spine, landing softly on the small of his back. He runs a finger along the line of his underwear, knows if he looks down he’ll see it clinging to the curve of Tommy’s luscious ass. They’re so close, stacked on top of each other, and Buck never wants to leave. He has Tommy, right where he wants him. And Tommy is there, choosing to stay. “Wanna remember you were there.”

With a huff, Tommy presses his face into Buck’s shoulder. Hiding. “Don’t say shit like that,” Tommy says, his voice muffled in Buck’s skin.

“Hey.” He pinches his side and Tommy squirms. “Honesty, right? We’re saying what we mean?” His fingers dig in further and Tommy grunts, nuzzling into him and then pushing the point of his nose into the crook of Buck’s neck. “Well… I mean it. I like thinking about how much you want me. That you couldn’t even wait to get out of the theatre before, uh. What was it you said?” He feels it as his mouth curls up, and it takes restraint he doesn’t usually exercise to keep from sliding his hand down to grope or pushing his hips up again into Tommy’s. “You got your hands on some gorgeous guy. Gorgeous you said.”

Tommy hums. “Maybe I was exaggerating.”

Buck covers his hand and cranes his neck as much as he can. He slots his fingers between Tommy’s and then guides both their index fingers to press again at the almost obscenely large hickey on his neck. “Huh.” He feels it and feels it and it’s such a good sort of pain. “Your enthusiasm suggests otherwise.”

A teasing slant of teeth nips at his collarbone. It’s meant to distract him, he knows, but he’s got Tommy right where he wants him. He wraps his arms around him, holding him tight. The trap’s been sprung. Tommy lifts his head, looking with mild curiosity at Buck’s needy grapple with one eyebrow raised. “Well. Maybe gorgeous isn’t entirely wrong.”

Buck grins big and wide.

Tommy’s eyes darken. “Yeah? And maybe, if he asks really nicely—”

“Hey.” Buck clears his throat, waits until he has every last speck of Tommy’s attention. “I love you.”

Tommy’s mouth goes slack. It’s not the first time he’s said it, but those few occasions have been precious, usually during something intense. After getting back together and airing out their issues. During sex. He waited until now, until a moment of easy calm, because he wants Tommy to have to hear it. He wants Tommy to know how much he means it.

He blinks and Buck can see him reeling back.

“Hey,” he says. He squeezes once, then loosens his hold. “I love you,” he says again.

“That’s…” Tommy breathes out and Buck’s arms fall away a little as he props himself up to hover over Buck. “That’s a big thing to say for one love bite, even if it is some of my best work.”

“Maybe I’m just grateful I get any of your work, even if it turned out to be your worst.”

“If you really want to thank me…” Tommy starts, and his voice is light. Buck knows this game, he can already feel the deflection coming. Tommy pets over Buck’s chest, lingering on his nipple and then a tattoo. “You can put on that jock I know you’ve got in your bag and we’ll see if my work can’t improve with the right motivation.”

Buck shivers and he knows Tommy catches it. He can’t help it–because Tommy’s right, he’d come to spend the night prepared, and maybe he’d wanted to encourage those large, masterful palms. He is proudly aware that his ass is excellent motivation. But this is important enough for his heart as well as his dick, and he shoves all the horny thoughts aside. “That sounds… really damn good,” he says. “And I want that. I do. But right now I want to cuddle, and digest that awful movie, and tell my gorgeous guy that I love him.” He leans up and kisses the first part of Tommy he can reach. “And I do. I love you.”

For a long moment, Tommy is silent. Buck focuses on the warmth of him seeping in, on the soft bedding against his skin, on the buzzy ambience of the room around them. There are still the faintest traces of his cologne lingering on Tommy’s body and he breathes in, trying to catch those, too. He wants all of Tommy. He wants his best work and his worst, the smell of him and the weight of him, too. He wants to find all the cracks and stick his fingers in, see if they come out bleeding from the sharp edges. He’s never known when to leave well enough alone. He doesn’t want to leave Tommy alone again.

“Okay.” Tommy breathes out and lowers his head. His eyes are closed. Buck wants to kiss the thin skin of his eyelids. Very slowly Tommy starts to press down. His body covers Buck's. His weight starts to sink in.

Buck lays sandwiched between Tommy’s heavy, scarred body and the soft foam mattress topper covered by a fresh cotton sheet. The pressure of that body brings a clarity he doesn’t often feel. He drank a full glass of water. He remembered his meds. He doesn’t have to hold so tight when Tommy is the one keeping him pinned down, unable to get away.

“Okay,” Tommy says again. He speaks against Buck’s skin. His voice is soft and Buck can feel the words even better than he can hear them. “Okay, Evan,” he says. “Okay.”

Read @ AO3

Song Inspo / Fic Soundtrack:

#bucktommy #my fic #tevan fic #unrepentant sappiness #if you never say your name out loud to anyone they can never ever call you by it #Spotify

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