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inkdrinkerworld · 6 months ago

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Maybe Spencer is having a bad BAD day, full on ptsd, and sunshine!reader is trying hard to cheer him up. It gets to a point where Spmcer just snaps and says something mean and starts a fight

Spencer can feel the bars around him. He feels trapped in his own mind because he can see that he isn’t in prison anymore, but his brain has been conjuring these vivid dreams of him being back and of Shaw sending men to beat him up.

Every night, the dreams end with Spencer never being found not guilty and him having to spend five years in prison and his eventual death from Shaw’s men.

He’s gasping and shaking and there’s a sweat spot on his sheets. He apologises every morning, you tell him it’s okay and that you’re here to talk. He never wants to talk about it and you never push.

He doesn’t sleep the rest of the night and it makes him irritable.

When he comes into work, you try not to internalise the way he brushes you out of his path as he beelines for the coffee pot.

“I already put your cup on your desk. With breakfast.” You try to temper your cheeriness when you notice the way his shoulders tense.

Spencer wants to be grateful, but all he can think is, ‘I can do it myself. I can take care of myself.’

He doesn’t say anything, not a quiet thanks, not even a half smile.

Your nerves are frayed immediately.

You don’t know what Spencer experienced in prison, he’s told you bits and pieces, the nicer parts of living in a 4 x 4.

Yet, you know the signs of PTSD and as the day drags on, you’re almost certain Spencer’s having a rough go of things.

He’s been snappy with Luke, nice with Penelope, and then flippant with you all over again. It’s hard not to feel like nothing you do is helping.

“We could go out to get lunch. From the place you like, the burger joint.” Spencer’s been slipping in and out of this conversation and the longer he hears your sweet voice, the more it sounds like chalk grating a blackboard.

At his silence, “Or we could order in? Whatever helps, Spence.”

Suddenly, his coffee cup is shattering in the wall behind your head and Spencer’s chest is racing. “Stop!” You feel hot tears prick behind your eyes at being yelled at; at work no less.

“It would help if you weren’t fucking hovering all the damn time. I can take care of myself, I don’t need your help. As a matter of fact, I don’t want your help. Go find someone else to be happy go lucky with, some of us can’t stand it.”

Your breath hitches, you’ve never heard Spencer speak with such venom. You reach a hand to your cheek pulling it away to find blood on your fingertips. Spencer must see it too because he’s on his feet, reaching for you as you step away from his outstretched hands.

You try to remind yourself that he’s just reeling, that he’s been having a rough couple of nights, that this will pass and that you don’t need to be mean to him too. “Fuck you Spencer.” The words are out of you before you can think about it much more. It’s honestly the nicest thing you could muster right now, embarrassment and defeat hot in your chest.

Emily and Matt rush in, finding Spencer tugging at his hair. Emily sighs as she sees the broken mug, Matt sighs as he notes your missing presence.

“Fucking stupid.” Spencer murmurs to himself, pushing back his chair, digging around in his desk for a first aid kit. “I’ll come back and clean it up,” no one is really listening. Emily will do this for him while he cleans up his other mess.

Spencer finds you in the bathroom with Penelope cleaning the little shards from your hair and cheek.

She glares at him and Spencer feels even worse; to top it off you don’t even look at him, just at his shoes.

“I’ll finish it, Garcia.” She stills, not knowing what to do. As she looks at you, you give her a little nod and she leaves, rubbing your back as she goes.

Spencer doesn’t approach you for some time, standing there like you’re the one who exploded and he’s waiting for another shout.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, taking up the tweezers Penelope left behind and reaching for your cheek. Spencer cradles your face gently as he picks the shards out. “I shouldn’t have thrown the mug, or said any of what I said.”

You don’t say anything, letting him continue. “You don’t hover, and I love that you’re always smiling and happy. It’s not an excuse but my dreams are really getting to me, but I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”

You offer Spencer your other hand. You weigh your words, “No you shouldn’t have. I understand that some of what happened while you were in prison is too hard to talk about, but you need to talk to someone Spencer. You can’t just throw things and scream and then shut people out.”

He nods, “Luke recommended me to a psychiatrist for people suffering from PTSD, but I guess I felt like going would be me admitting that things there got to me.”

You sigh, “I’m not sure if I can do this if you’re going to shut me out and be violent like that.” At Spencer’s panicked eyes you continue. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, but this unchecked shit is going to. Whether you mean for it to or not.”

Spencer opens the first aid kit and swipes at your cheek gently, grateful that it hadn’t been a deep cut. Still he knows the silver scar it’s going to leave will eat at him forever.

“I made an appointment for tomorrow at nine.” He mumbles, worry and dread eating at his stomach. “I know it might take a bit for you to trust me again-“

You roll your eyes, “I do trust you. I trust that you’ll go to therapy, use all the tools given to you and cue me in when things are too hard. I trust that you won’t do this again Spencer. I’m not going to punish you for having an off day.”

Tears spring to his eyes unconsciously, “You don’t want to leave? Because I’d understand if you wanted to.”

You kiss his wrist, “No I don’t want to. I know you’re going to get better, but if there’s a next time, Spencer I’m not staying.”

“There won’t be a next time, I swear.” He kisses right under your injured cheek, tender and soft.

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ohdeerfully · 9 months ago

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K hear me out, a wife! Reader x Alastor and Charlie finds out they had a kid when they were alive. (I don’t mind what the kids name is but make them young and passed due to Spanish flu, dark I know)

omg this has been sitting in my drafts so long, i love requests like this </3 im sorry if it seems rushed, i really wanted to finish it!

Mourning Dove

Alastor x Reader (angst, slight comfort at end) TW: CHILD DEATH, child sickness, reader referred to as a woman but doesnt effect story too much join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

You sat yourself unceremoniously at the bar in the hotel lobby, shoulders slouched and cheek squished against the cold countertop. You weren’t one for alcohol, but you didn’t mind the company of Husk. He didn’t say much unless prompted, but that didn’t bother you. It was nice, honestly, after a day of dealing with the others.

“Somethin’ the matter?” Okay. Nevermind about him not saying much.

“Hmm?” You responded, barely peeking up from your finger that dragged patterns in the surface you laid against. “I’m good.”

“You don’t look it,” Husk observed, and you knew he was referring to the discoloration of your eyes and the residual dampness of your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess, too. Yeah, you looked like shit. “Tough day?”

“I guess, yeah,” You sighed, pushing yourself up and leaning back in a stretch while your fingers gripped the countertop to steady yourself. “Just thinking about… Y’know.”

He didn’t pry, and you were thankful for that. Husk did know a little, actually, and knew better than to push for more details. After being stuck with Alastor for so long, with the guy owning his soul and all, he inevitably learned some deep shit about him and, by extension, you. He just grunted in response and went back to spot cleaning his bottles of booze.

“(Y/N)!” A chipper voice called your name, and you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You thought you were done with all of this for the day, and you were so ready to just go to sleep. “I wanted everybody to join me for dinner today! We have a few new residents, so I want everybody to meet each other.”

You squeezed your lips to prevent a harsh word from responding to Charlie’s invitation. You were so tired. You feigned a weak smile and looked at her. You wanted to say no, to say you needed to sleep, but those huge, pleading eyes of hers caught the rejection in your throat. You tried to reason with yourself that Charlie doesn’t host stuff like this very often. It would just be one night. You’ll survive.

“Okay.”

She clasped her hands together and jumped on the balls of her feet, thanked you, and took off to find the next resident to invite. You held your head against your hand and you sighed dramatically. Husk looked at you from the corner of his eye, but opted to remain silent. You stood up after a few more minutes of quiet sulking, deciding you should fix yourself up for dinner.

In your room, you gently fixed your hair and threw on a casual outfit. Nothing super nice, just in case food started flying–knowing the antics of some of the hotel residents, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

You slowly made your way to the banquet room, which Charlie had installed for events like today. You could already hear the low murmur of small talk, and you were surprised to see a few new faces. Not a whole lot, just about five, alongside the familiar faces of your friends. Charlie’s hotel was, slowly but surely, becoming more successful.

You spotted Alastor quickly–he was hard to miss due to his height. You settled yourself in a chair next to him at a long table that Charlie had dragged into the room for everybody to sit at. You felt your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of static, which increased slightly as his attention turned towards you. He gave you a grin before focusing his eyes on the racket that was already picking up. You watched his smile curl, a bit sinister, as the sound of shouting caught your attention.

“-my fuckin’ business!” You picked up the tail end of Angel Dust fuming at Vaggie, one pair of arms crossed under his chest. He had a third hand on his hip, with his fourth hand jabbing an accusatory point at the woman in front of him.

“Guys, please!” Charlie pleaded, pressing her shoulder against Vaggie’s in an attempt to move her away from Angel. “I don’t want to scare my new guests away!”

“Tell this bitch to keep her nose outta my shit! I can’t have my fuckin’ life on the line because she doesn’t like my job!” Angel spat. There was a dangerous, maybe even frantic, look in his eyes. Before Charlie could say anything, Angel had spun around and stormed to the table. He ripped the chair out and slammed his body down. All four of his arms were crossed now as he glowered at the wooden tabletop.

You sighed, and felt a headache already forming.

Angel’s spirits quickly changed when Husk sulked into the room. He had his paws stuffed in his pockets, and glared at the air in front of him. He sat down at the other end of the table, but Angel was quick to stand up and saunter his way over to sit next to the cat. You couldn’t quite catch the flirtatious remarks that made Husk roll his eyes.

You observed them for a while, watching as Husk slowly grew more comfortable in the small talk he and Angel shared. He would never admit it, but you knew Husk didn’t hate Angel’s company. Husk seemingly said something about you to Angel that made him whip his head up to look at you. You quickly averted your gaze.

Charlie had been standing by her own chair, and a cough from her throat made the chatter die down. You didn’t really listen to the overly sappy speech she had started to give, your mind drifting away in absent thought. You picked your nails into the edge of the table, fidgeting with the light cloth.

Alastor caught your attention by lightly nudging his leg against yours. You trailed your eyes up to his, meeting his red gaze. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, and his grin twitched at the edges as he looked at your exhausted face. He tilted his head in a silent question.

You merely shook your head in response, and mouthed a quick “it’s nothing” and hoped that he wouldn’t press. He didn’t, but you knew he’d ask again in a private room.

Charlie sat down again, and Vaggie rubbed her shoulder, murmuring a silent praise. You dragged your eyes across the table, making note of the handful of new faces. None of them seemed to take Charlie very seriously, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They probably just liked free food.

The food in question seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and you chalked it up to her “princess of hell” type powers that she didn’t use very often. You smiled gratefully and, though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you started slowly picking at the plate in front of you.

The room once again began to rumble with small talk, but at some point the multiple conversations began to melt together until the whole table was talking to each other in one. Charlie was doing most of the heavy lifting with keeping the conversation going.

“-the deal with the Radio Demon and that gal next to him?” You perked your ears when you heard this reference to yourself. One of the new guests, some sort of lizard demon, had a finger pointed at the two of you. He had a slight country drawl in his voice. You saw Alastor’s smile widen when the attention of the table turned towards himself.

“My darling wife,” Alastor stated simply, briefly placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes were closed as he smiled proudly. You silently nodded with a light, polite smiling. “We knew each other in life. It’s only natural for us to remain together. It would have been a shame for death to do us part.”

“Didn’t think you was the type…” The lizard said slowly, eyeing the two of you carefully. You didn’t blame him; what kind of nut job would marry the Radio Demon? Though, as Alastor said, you were married before Hell, and he wasn’t so… infamous back then. He was actually rather sweet, besides the whole serial killer thing–which, in your defense, you weren’t even aware of till he was shot to death.

“Didn’t think ya were the type to have a kid, either,” Angel piped up absently, one arm thrown lazily over the back of his chair. You watched as Husk tried desperately to shut him up as he continued to speak, but you barely heard the words over the sound of your heart picking up pace, and the increased radio frequency of Alastor’s. His body had stiffened and his eyes had shot open, quickly narrowing as his smile strained and curled dangerously, his gums visible in a snarl. His eyes were not on Angel, but on Husk, whose ears were flattened against his head and a nervous look in his wide eyes.

You weren’t really paying attention though, but you felt the intense tension and rapid prickling on your skin. Your breathing became more labored and you pointed your face to the table to try to hide the building tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard, all day, to push back the memories that kept threatening to resurface. What are the chances that on the same day, the topic was brought up, destroying the wall you had built to contain the anxiety, regret, grief…

You were kneeling by the wrinkled, messy sheets of the twin bed your son had been in for the past couple days. Your heart was tight, and you could barely breathe as you looked at him. He gazed blearily at the ceiling, following the path of the rocking fan. Every breath he took scratched at his throat, as if there were pebbles blocking the path. He barely had the strength to cough. His lips were dry and cracked, and his graying skin still had a flush of fever. You used a damp rag to clean the dried snot under his nose.

You had tried everything. Every recommended antibiotic, every treatment, therapy, exercise; nothing had worked. Nobody knew how to treat the illness. You had even tried to work with witch doctors that Alastor knew. You had spent so much of what little money you had trying to save your little boy.

Alastor was often gone during this time, being the one to go out and find something new to try. You never left the room, even when your husband tried to push you to go outside to stretch your legs or take a shower. He promised to watch over your son. But you just couldn’t, not with David laying on these dirty sheets, looking so frail, weak, and small. You had often called him little dove, and it made you sick to think that your nickname was now like a cruel adjective to describe his current state. A sick, frail baby bird. He had barely eaten in the past eight days, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that any scratchy breath he took could be that last one.

You stiffened when his head rolled over towards you, and his eyes struggled to focus on you. His cracked lips grimaced for a moment, followed by a sharp, grating cough that made your heart drop and your eyes sting. You reached a shaky hand forward to smooth down his knotted hair.

“Am I going to be okay,” David said weakly. His voice caught on the tightness in his throat multiple times. “I feel really bad.”

“I know baby, but you’re okay,” You said tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. “Your dad is getting you some new medicine. You’ll be okay.”

You were lying to him, and to yourself. But you couldn’t help but cling on to a morsel of hope–it was all you could do, really. David just looked towards you, his eyes flicking around slightly, unable to truly focus on anything.

“I’m tired.” He said. His breathing was labored.

“I know.”

Your emotions threatened to spill from your eyes as you watched him turn his head back towards the ceiling, eyes shutting. You didn’t want to cry; you couldn’t, not in front of him. You needed to stay strong for him.

You pressed the back of your hand to his burning forehead, and then trailed your hand to his chest, lightly pressing against him to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, and slowing. Your own heart picked up in response.

You heard the door in another room open, shut, and footsteps quickly pace towards the room. The door cracked lightly, and the tall, thin frame of your husband peeked in. He held a brown back tightly in his fist. With one look into your eyes, he knew something was wrong. Or, well, more wrong than usual.

You clenched your jaw to prevent any sob from escaping your lips as he sat the bag down on an end table and kneeled next to you, gripping your waist tightly as he looked at David. The boy’s breath had gotten dangerously quiet.

You watched as his eyes opened again.

“I’m tired.” He repeated, weaker this time.

Both you and Alastor leaned towards the bed, his hand on David’s leg as you gingerly lifted the boy’s head into your arms, pulling his light body towards yourself. You shifted yourself up into the bed with him, trying to wrap as much of yourself around your son as possible. You could feel his heartbeat getting slower with every weak breath he took.

“Sleep, then,” your voice trembled. You felt Alastor grip your shoulder, his other hand softly rubbing David’s arm. You couldn’t describe the expression on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning, little dove.” You lied.

“In heaven?” He responded. Your breath hitched at his words. He knew, somehow, that he was dying. How sick it was, for such a young boy to be aware of his impending death. How cruel God was.

“Yeah, I promise,” Was all you could muster. You worried that any more would destroy the dam that held back your tears.

It broke, though, when you felt David’s heart finally stop. You choked on a sob once, twice, before finally you started wailing. Screaming. You held a vice-like grip on the boy, both your arms and legs secured around him. Alastor was still quiet, but he had sat across from you on the bed and pulled you towards him, securing you and David’s still-warm body in an equally tight grip. You could feel his strained breathing and tight jaw against your head. He said something, but you didn’t hear him.

Your mind rushed back to the present when you felt a hand on your back. Your head whipped towards Alastor, who was looking at you. The table was dead silent, and there was still a look of rage in his eyes, but his smile held a softness that was only ever given to you. Your heart still beat strongly, and you struggled to breathe, but you were at least glad that your mind was still back in the present.

Evidently, barely any time had passed. Angel had a nervous look in his expression, which he tried and failed to mask as Husk cursed at him. Charlie was looking at you in worry.

“(Y/N),” She said softly. “...How come you never-”

“Truly, there is no point in speaking of life before death,” Alastor interrupted her, the usual cheer in his voice lilted by a masked emotion. You knew he felt the same grief as you, but he was a million times better at acting naturally. “What a waste of time and emotion.”

Alastor stood quickly, his hand trailing against your shoulders as he walked past you and towards Angel and Husk. Husk’s ears flattened to his skull again as Alastor loomed over them, hands behind his back as a smile twisted his features.

“Husker, my friend,” He said, the cat demon visibly flinching at the mention of his name. “Let’s take a walk.”

Husk didn’t move, and the room grew heavy with tension with every second as the sound of radio frequency got louder and somehow sharper. Alastor bent at the waist, his snarling smile inches away from the panicked expression on Husk’s face.

“Is the tomcat getting too old to hear?” You barely picked up Alastor’s words, but you definitely heard the threatening tone in his voice.

The cat swallowed hard before standing up. He shot one last infuriated look at Angel, before whipping his head back to attention when Alastor tapped his cane against the ground impatiently. The two of them left the room, and the tension in the air immediately lifted when the door shut.

Charlie startled you when she placed a delicate hand on your upper arm, and she guided you to your feet and out another set of doors. A weak smile touched her expression.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked as you both went up the stairs towards your hotel room. You shook your head silently at her offer. She only nodded back, and said nothing more. She opened the door to your room for you, and waited till you settled down in your bed before saying a string of comforting words that you didn’t really pay attention to. The door clicked softly, and you once again began to sob.

Only a few minutes passed before you felt your skin prickle with a static-like feeling. You had grown to find comfort in the odd sensation, and felt incredibly relieved when you knew Alastor was sitting next to you. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.

He pulled you wordlessly against his chest, lying the two of you down. You twisted yourself in his grip till your ear rested against him, listening to the odd drum of what you assumed was a heart.

“Has David been troubling you all day?” He asked you when your sobs slowed and you caught your breath. You nodded. Alastor rubbed a soothing hand on your shoulder blade. You recognized the tone of grief in his voice as he spoke. “What a pesky boy, even all these years later.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around Alastor’s neck as tears began flowing again.

Though you would never tell him, you often hoped Charlie’s idea of redemption would work. Your husband himself would likely never follow that path; you knew he saw no point and enjoyed the power he held in Hell. But, you wished every day to see your son again. To see your little dove.

You had promised him.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #angst #TW: child death #child death #ohdeerfully

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germiyahu · 11 months ago

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I still think about that girl who accidentally talked to Nazis at a Palestine rally. It's been dissected and memed to death already, but one point of her bafflingly long essay sticks out to me and I haven't seen people really talk about that aspect of it.

She mentioned her burning need to finally do something about Gaza, that's why she's taking a stand and organizing and getting out there and protesting, right? And yet she starts her essay mentioning that she has KLANSMEN in her extended family and they're a deeply entrenched part of the South where she lives. And I just nodded skeptically because wait wait wait wait wait!

You mean to tell me that a war happening a world away, which does not affect you aside from how much social clout you'll have among your online leftie friends, is important enough to start protesting and organizing and "resisting" for. But you have done nothing about the Klan?? That's just presented as a status quo, they've always existed where you live and always will. Sorry that's just how it is now let's move on?

You could be actually trying to dismantle the KKK in your region, for what little you can actually contribute to that, it's still much more tangible and direct than marching up to a Jewish owned business and shouting "From the River to the Sea!" I think it really speaks to something about White American Leftists. I'm not sure what yet, but I'll let you know. Maybe it's their delusion that they're not "safe," combating injustice so they pick on Israel because truly Israel and Israelis do not care about them. They're gnats.

But according to these WALs, a Jewish state, flawed as it is, merely existing and engaging in combat with its hostile neighbors, is more of a threat, more of a yearning cry for justice, than the Ku Klux Klan?? I know those creeps haven't just been idling by twiddling their thumbs in the post Obama era either. After Charlottesville? No no no, you just don't want to confront your own complicity in White Supremacy (considering you have family in the Klan??). You don't want to disrupt the tenuous truce between the various political factions of your family at Thanksgiving.

But you're gung-ho full steam ahead calling for the largest Jewish community on Earth to lose their sovereignty and possibly their homes, maybe even their lives, and you just don't see an issue with that. You're delusional, you're narcissistic, and you're lazy and immature. You're every bit as pathetic as your conservative father tells you you are.

#israel #leftist antisemitism #antisemitism #racism #white supremacy

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jiminscockr1ng · 9 months ago

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✩｡°𝄞🚨D-TOWN BABY 𝄞✨°｡✩

╝ •part one | part two ╔

╰₊𓂂➢ pairing: gang affiliated!yoongi x fem!reader

╰₊𓂂➢ genre: hood au, bother’s best friend au, smut, angst

╰₊𓂂➢ warn!ngs: use of the n-word, aave, [mentions of drugs, drug dealing, death, smoking and drinking], negligence due to use of drugs (reader’s mother), reader is heavily black coded, cat-calling, riding, oral (reader receiving), swallowing semen. (let me know if there’s more please!)

╰₊𓂂➢ summary: yoongi is apart of a gang called d-town, the gang your brother just so happens to be apart of.

╰₊𓂂➢ word count: 5,625 words

╰₊𓂂➢ author’s note: the inspiration came from me shouting “D-TOWN NIGGA!” at my sister while watching the Daechwita music video. lmao, i hope y’all enjoy it.

The headlights of your black honda civic shines on the group of men huddled together on the steps of the project building.

Smoking, drinking, talking and laughing loud as hell, and hitting licks.

You huff while turning your car off. Stepping out, your long, fern green skirt flows with the wind. Cleavage hanging out of your bohemian patterned shirt. As you approach the ran down project building you can hear the men on the stairs whistling at you.

You roll your eyes at the gang members who are shouting and cat-calling loud as hell— the whole block could hear.

“Damn Ma, can I get a 360?!” One of them call out. Before you could even flip him off, two familiar voices chime in.

“Chill, nigga.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

They say at the same time. The two voices could easily be distinguished as Trey (your brother) and Yoongi (your brother’s best friend).

Or their street names: Tre D and Agust D. The ‘D’ standing for D-Town. To which you find corny as hell because you all literally live downtown. All these corny ass niggas’ names end with D.

Once you’re right in front of the group of men your brother nods his head at you. That’s just him acknowledging your existence. The two of you have a complicated relationship. It’s only complicated because you don’t like his lifestyle (respectfully) but he won’t stop gang banging.

Nonetheless, you’d still take a bullet for that man. Vice versa.

“Yo, _______.” Yoongi speaks. From the looks of it, you can already tell he’s about to say some stupid shit. He has that sorry ass smirk on his face and keeps glancing around at his little posse. Leaning your weight on to one leg, you simply arch your brow at him.

“You gon’ let me tuck you in?” Your stoic expression remains the same. A few giggles are heard and your brother shakes his head. Trey is more than used to Yoongi making advances at you— he’s been fiend out for damn there 8 years.

Yoongi looks you up and down, adjusting his duffel bag on his shoulder. You smack your teeth and harshly brush past the men blocking your way up the stairs. Prior to entering the building you yell back at the long haired, pale man.

“Tuck your dick!”

SLAM! You slam the door shut, you can hear the distant instigating behind the door as you walk up the stairs to the shared apartment. Mumbling curse words on your way up.

Yoongi’s smirk never leaves, despite the instigation his crew nagged on about. He likes that shit. He loves it. Your hot temper and all of it. He knows that if he wanted to he could shut you right up. But you being mad at him kind of turns him on… so he’ll let you have it.

You’d prefer a nice and quiet, empty pathway to your home when you get off from work. You go through enough stress as it is. Another headache is exactly not what you needed.

Stepping foot into the dark apartment, you set your purse down and walk to your room, ready to get in the shower after a long day. The apartment is fairly big compared to the other units. More than enough space for you and your brother. Although, for the past year it’s really just been you occupying the space.

Trey is never home. He’s out and about being Tre D. He stopped coming home about a little over a year ago. It’s just gang related activities after the other, selling drugs, hanging out with D-Town and fucking random girls. Repeat.

It’s reasonable that you gave up on trying to stop him. He’s a grown man now and you can’t sit around all day to inspect your little brother’s everyday life to make sure he’s doing ‘the right thing’. He’s only 2 years younger than you but you always acted as a mother figure. Taking over that role after your mother got sprung out on crack and left you both.

Working your ass off everyday, feeding him and yourself, trying to make sure he’s doing well in school— all a waste of time. Now look. He’s outside of your shared apartment, probably not even going to come up stairs and is making way more money than you.

You regret the day he met those guys. And you regret even more when he dragged Yoongi along with him.

The thought of Yoongi makes you sigh. You pick up your towel to get in the shower, blasting Lauryn Hill as you lather your brown skin with smell-good soap. You manage to decompress in the shower. Tracking wet footprints to your bedroom as you approach the window, you look outside to see if they’re still there.

Yes. Yes they are. Your brother seems to be leaving and you can’t help but notice someone is missing from the gang.

And almost on queue— as if the devil himself set it up… you hear the front door opening. Letting out a groan, you go and peak out of your bedroom door.

“No need to hide, babygirl. Come on out.” Yoongi calls.

You roll your eyes before slamming your door. But like you figured, the door opens right back up and in comes Yoongi. He silently stands in front of the door after he closes it behind him, observing your figure that is semi-hidden behind the white towel you have on. Yoongi already has a little stiffy just by looking at you.

“Stop calling me babygirl you freak, I’m older than you.” You say, responding to the comment he made. He chuckles, walking over to sit on your bed while you apply lotion on your legs. He drops his duffel bag on the ground next to him.

“Yeah, by like a few months.” Looking down at him, you noticed that he’s man spreading, leaning on his arms that are propped up behind him on the bed. Refraining from gulping, you look away.

You don’t respond to him. Instead, you continue on with your nightly routine, pretending that the fine man is not sitting on your bed ready to pounce on you the second you say go. You can hear shuffling behind you as you fix your locs, putting them in the ponytail.

“_______, I got you something.” He says and you reluctantly turn around. This man really doesn’t learn or care to catch a hint. In his hand is a book. A book that you’ve been searching for everywhere and is sold out.

“How…” is all you can mutter out. Out of all of Yoongi’s highly prestigious and unusual gifts he attempts to give you, this has got to be the best one yet. Best, because you actually wanted it. Not that that Birkin Bag was easy to donate— that was a struggle.

“Uh— I saw you were looking for this shit everywhere on your spam.” You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why the hell are you on my spam page?!”

“So I had drove damn there 2 fucking hours to get this shit.” He says, ignoring the previous question.

You love it. You want to snatch the book out of his long slender fingers, throw your bonnet on and start reading immediately. But—

“I can’t take that Yoongi.” The sentence isn’t something that he hasn’t heard before. You tell him every single time he comes up to your apartment trying to hand you something he bought for you. You never take shit from him and if you do, it gets donated almost immediately.

He scoffs. Honestly looking a little pissed off— fed up to be exact. “What do you mean you can’t take it? Didn’t you hear me, _______?” He stands up, book still in hand. “I drove 2 hours for a fucking book!” He exclaims.

It’s not like you’re meaning to be a bitch. You’d just rather not take anything that was bought with drug money. Even the book you’ve been dying to read for months.

“Listen Yoongi—”

“Agust D.” He corrects.

“I’m not calling you that shit!” A smile cracks onto his face. Just a small one. Because, as mentioned before, he loves that shit. But he’s still fed up.

“I can’t take that. It’ll be donated just like the other gifts you attempt to bribe me with.” You say and he sets the book on the bed, stepping closer to you. “I’m not bribing you _______. I just wanna spoil you, just let me do that.”

“No! I don’t want anything you or my brother buy with your fucking D-Town money. You can keep all of that shit!” You roar while waving your arms around. He sighs, running his fingers through his long black hair, letting it fall back in place. “Money is money, _______.”

“I’m not doing this with you, Yoongi.” Arguing with him back and forth is like arguing with a wall. You two could go on and on about the lifestyle he and Trey are choosing to live.

Yoongi walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don’t pull away. Despite how stubborn you are, you’d never deny Yoongi’s touch whenever you feel him. It’s instant stress relief.

“I’m trying, _______.” He calmly says in your ear. The disembodied voice— so husky yet smooth. It sends shivers down your back and all of the hair on your arms stand tall.

“Try harder then.”

“Why are you like this?” You scrunch your face up. “Like what?!” You can feel him shrug his shoulders behind you.

“Like… stubborn and petty.” Offended, you scoff.

“Stubborn and petty like your mama?” It was a quick little insult— a joke! Everyone says it. Plus, you had to think of a come back quick or else you know Yoongi would’ve known that you knew what he said was partially accurate. But when you feel the tight hold Yoongi had around your waist loosen… you knew you fucked up.

“You know my moms’ is dead.” You immediately twist your body around to face him, your towel nearly unraveling. You quickly catch it. “Omg, I did not mean it like that, for real. I was just saying shit!” You ramble on and on about how you don’t think before speaking and how sorry you are.

Then he laughs. Like actually laugh. Not a corny little smirk or the low chuckle he does when he’s around his boys— not even a light smile. He gave you his infamous, gummy smile, shoulder bouncing laugh. He even threw his head back for a second.

You really couldn’t help but smile. You missed that laugh. Having been reunited with it after so long makes you forget everything said and done. Because that’s the Yoongi you know, the Yoongi you grew up with, the Yoongi you loved. You smile at the taller man still looking at you with that cute gummy smile even after the laughter died down.

“Stop apologizing _______, I was just fucking with you.” You scoff but the smile never fades, even when you playfully punch his shoulder. “That’s not funny!” He nods his head in agreement as if he wasn’t just literally laughing his ass off.

“It was just funny seeing you speak like that. First time in mad long you didn’t have that stick that you love so much up your ass.” Looking up at him, you can’t even be mad at what he just said. Not when all the old feelings were suddenly rushing back in. The ones you fought off years ago.

“Yeah,” you switch your focus onto the ground. “It was nice seeing you laugh like that.” His fingers lightly grip your chin to lift your head back up to look him in the eyes. Your heart is doing backflips but in your head there are a million different alarms going off, screaming ‘abort!’.

“You always make me laugh. Whether I’m laughing around you or at home in my bed, laughing about something that you said. You make me…” He trails off making you furrow your eyebrows a bit.

“Make you what?” He sighs, scratching the back of his head, looking out of the window. You shove his shoulder to get his attention again. “Make you what?!” He looks down at his shoes as if the answer was written on them. They weren’t. You checked.

“You make me… hmmph.” He mumbles and you slap your hands on your naked thighs in frustration. You grip his face in your whole hand to get him to stop looking around the room helplessly, like a mother trying to force feed their child.

“What!” You scream.

“Happy!” He reciprocates the volume, eyes going wide when he finally lets the shit flow free. Your hand slowly drops from his face. “Damn— satisfied?” He sassily asks, rolling his eyes. Too in shock to even say anything, you just stand there with your eyebrows high, looking like a dumbass.

“_______,” he starts, earning you attention. So many thoughts sprint through your mind as you stare up into his sharp brown eyes. It’s really hard to believe that after everything, he still found happiness in you. You can’t recall the last time you felt happy in Yoongi’s presence. The man that you once loved. You and Yoongi never dated, never slept together, never really announced any feelings for each other either. The relationship the two of you had was unspoken. You knew the love was there— he did too, and that was enough.

“I need you to know, that I want you.” He says seriously. Your heart drops at the words. No.

No, not now. Why now?

“I want us, _______.” You could melt underneath his gaze. You feel yourself slowly folding. Ready to submit and give into him— give into your heart that’s been begging to be his for 7 years now. “Tell me you want this too.”

Yes, tell him you want this. Want all of him. Because you do… but you can’t. It’s not the same. This is not the same as it was 7 years ago. Yoongi isn’t the same. You can’t do it.

“I can’t— I don’t… want this.” You try to stand strong but you’re weak. Yoongi always did that to you. “You don’t or you can’t— which one is it?” He says, already knowing the answer. He needs to hear it from you though. You sigh, closing your eyes. “Yoongi—”

“No _______ tell me right now why you can’t just let us be happy?” Yoongi’s frustration is valid. But so is yours. You try to walk away from him, to get away, like those alarms that kept going off in your head a few minutes ago told you to do. But Yoongi isn’t having it. He already laid his heart out there, he just wanted you to take it— for it to be yours. So he grabs your arm. “Don’t walk away from me.” You yank your arm back immediately.

“I fucking can’t Yoongi! You want me to stand here, laugh, ‘kee-kee’ in your face. Tell you I want you and that I want this just for you to go back to the streets the next second someone calls you.” You’re out of breath from all of the screaming, no doubt the neighbors were gonna report. But you aren’t done.

“D-Town tells you to jump, you ask how high. I ask you to get your life together, to get off of the streets and I’m left with the same answer. I’m not gonna be one of those bitches that hold you down when you decide to get into some dumb shit and I’m damn sure not gonna be the person people have to get in touch with because their fucking boyfriend died doing some fuck shit.” The undertone of your face is red and your hands are shaking. “It’s bad enough my brother is in to deep. I’m not trying to have to worry about someone else.”

Yoongi’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he takes in everything you said. You’ve never been this vulnerable. With anyone. You’ve never said any of this to anyone but you don’t want to keep having the same interactions over and over with him.

“I understand.” Is all he says. And it’s all he has to say. You know he’s not gonna quit the streets until the streets quit him. After all, that’s how it works. But he really did understand and if that’s how you feel he won’t push it.

“Can I just lay with you?” Before you can even protest he raises his hands to clarify. “Just for tonight. Can you please… just do this for me? Let me lay with you.” You sigh, over analyzing the possibility. In the end you conclude it was fine. So you grab your pajamas and change in the bathroom. When you come back in, Yoongi is already laying in the bed. Shirtless and wearing nothing else but the pair of basketball shorts he had in his bag. The book resting on your nightstand.

Your pajamas includes a sage green tank top and a beige pair of cotton shorts. You lie next to him in your bed after cutting the lights off. His body instantly cuddles into yours.

“Yoongi,” you call out. “Your head is on my boobs.” He chuckles into the pair before raising his head to look at you. “You used to always let me lay on your boobs. They’re comfortable.” He says with a faint pout, poking your plushy boobs with his finger, making you flinch.

“Yoo— will you stop poking me!” You say frustratedly. “It tickles.” Yoongi perks up at that. “It tickles, huh?” He sings, continuing to poke you. His fingers pokes at your chest, your sides, your neck. You try to fight him off but your laughter is making you weak. “Stu— stop!” You cry out and he just giggles at your plea. It’s really over once he hovers his body over yours, locking yours in place underneath him.

Your face hurts from laughing so hard, can’t even manage to fight it anymore. The poking eventually stops but the soft giggles and toothy smile on your face doesn’t falter. Yoongi’s eyes sparkle as they bore into yours. He carefully places his hand on your cheek, thumb caressing your lifted cheekbone.

“You’re so pretty, _______.” He observes your features from above and his heart pounds against his chest. The pace aligned with yours. “Sometimes,” he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. “I forget just how pretty you are. So I come to bother you— just to see you. But when I have you this close… you make me want to leave everything else behind just so I can be with you.”

That’s all you really wanted. For Yoongi to leave all the bullshit alone. Maybe then you two could work.

But you know that all of this is just pillow talk. Yoongi would never do that. Not for you. Not for anyone. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Yoongi.” You speak mellowly. He lifts his head out of your neck to look at you again. “I can’t tell you how I feel now?” You roll your eyes. “You can but don’t sit here and lead me on to believing in a lie.”

He doesn’t respond. You feel his lips on your cheek. Eyes widening, you look at him in confusion. “What are you—”

“I’m not lying to you, _______.” He kisses your forehead. “Even with everything that happened, no matter what you say to me— I never told you a lie and I don’t plan to.” He leans in to give you another kiss but pauses. His face just an inch away. Your breath hitches at the close proximity, growing nervous when his eyes focus on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers softly against your lips. Your mind isn’t working. There’s no alarms blaring, no weird gut feeling, just you. Underneath him. Without much thought, you mutter a breathy “yes.”

He leans in, his lips molding perfectly with yours. It’s soft and passionate and you’re worried that you just might have a heart attack the way your heart is pacing. Your fingers travel their way through his long strands of hair as you happily taste the minty flavor of his mouth— covering up the taste of cigarettes. When he pulls away to catch his breath, you immediately pull him back down. Now that you got a taste of him, you don’t want to let it go.

The kiss starts getting heated when Yoongi rolls off of you and pulls you on top of him. His hands roam the surface of your back, letting them slip under your tank top. You bite on his bottom lip once you pull away, letting your soft brown hands travel up his abdomen to his solid chest. Your back arches as you leave open mouth kisses against his chest. He takes the opportunity to cup your ass into his hands, occasionally squeezing the fleshy rump.

You slightly shift your hips up against him to lift up. “Fuck,” Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. “Don’t move like that.” You furrow your brows in confusion but you quickly understand when you feel something poking your thigh. In shock, you shift again. A low groan leaves Yoongi’s mouth and he places his hands on both sides of your waist.

You watch as his eyes squeeze shut, the action and the sound he let slip gave you that tingling feeling in your stomach, that familiar sensation fluttering in between your legs. You do it again. Wanting to hear that sound from him again.

“Seriously, you don’t want this to go further than it already has.” True. You don’t, but you’re a little too lust filled to think straight. And the fact that Yoongi is hard as a rock underneath you has you wet. Grinding your clothed sex onto his bulge.

“Yo, I—”

“Shut up.” You say, placing your hands on his chest to support yourself as you grind against him. The lewd sounds that escape from both of your mouths flood the room. Yoongi’s basketball shorts get bunched up in the process, the repeated action dragging the band down, exposing his boxer briefs underneath.

You lift your hips up to pull the shorts down but Yoongi stops you. He sends you a warning look that reads, ‘don’t do this.’

Regardless, you enthusiastically yank them and his boxer briefs down his thighs, letting his dick stand tall against his lower stomach. “_______, you’re confusing me.” He says while you’re busy scrapping to get the clothing from around his ankles, satisfied when they hit the floor. You turn around, looking down at him once again.

“You’re confused? Hm, I thought you were hard.” Speaking sarcastically, you turn your focus onto Yoongi’s member. You grip his length in your hand, brushing your thumb over his sensitive tip making Yoongi twitch.

“A little bit of both honestly. I mean, mostly hard but— woah woah woah, stop!” Yoongi panics once you put your mouth on his dick. He immediately sits up, his back resting against the head board. “I’m not doing this with you.” He says, to which one of your eyebrows flick up.

“Why not?” You scoff. “You don’t seem to have any problem fucking all these other bitches.” Yoongi lets out an unamused laugh, wiping his hands over his face. “You’re not other bitches. You don’t throw yourself on my dick.”

“I just did!” Technically, you did.

Yoongi scoffs, mumbling something under his breath. “It’s not the same thing. You’re invested in this _______ and you know it.” You turn your head away from him, not wanting to hear the truth. “I don’t need you to have another reason to hate me.” Rolling your eyes—

“I don’t hate you.”

“You’re just saying that.” You shake your head, scooting closer to him. “I’m not. I don’t hate you, Yoongi.” You repeat, your fingers go to his hair and you focus on the way his dark hair fall on your skin before looking at him again. “And right now… I’m horny, so.” You sit in front of him, anticipating his response.

“Okay.” He shrugs.

“Okay, what?” He grabs your waist gently, pulling you closer to him. Your lips lock onto his again and this time, the pace quickens. Yoongi’s hands reach for your tank top to pull it over your chest, you lift your arms as he pulls it off, slinging it across the room. Like clockwork, you drag your shorts down as well, tossing them in the corner without a care in the world.

Yoongi’s hands roam all over your body. Taking in the feel of your body being close to his. He retracts from the kiss to drool over your body. His pale hands over your brown skin, the only source of light coming from the window. “What do you want me to do, _______?” He asks, palming your breast in both hands. You bite your lip as you look down at him touching you.

“Can I ride you?” You ask in a whisper and you could’ve swore you felt Yoongi’s dick twitch on your thigh right after the words fell off your tongue. He felt like doing a backflip. An ability he doesn’t have but that’s how you make him feel. It’s just like you to want to ride him— it being your first time even having sex with each other.

“Fuck yes.” You let out a giggle at Yoongi’s expression before leaning over to open the top drawer of your nightstand. His eyes travel with your every movement. “What are you doing?”

“Grabbing a condom.” You popped out. He purses his lips at that. “Guess I’m not the only one you’ve been wrestling in the sheets with.” Looking back at the man with the condom in your hand, the jealous look on his face makes you want to run over to your phone to take a picture. Instead you laugh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You say, ripping open the packet. “I bought them because they’re a necessity. I’m not fucking anyone— but i’m glad I did buy them.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “I’d rather not have the neighborhood’s dick in me raw.”

It’s almost comedic the way his jaw drop. “Neighborhood’s dick is cuh-razy!” Slipping the condom on his length, you let out a giggle. Once you’ve got it on all the way you grip his shoulders, lifting your cunt over it. “It’s okay,” you jokingly reassure. “I’ll make sure to give you a good rating.”

“Oh, you got jokes— oh shit.” His demeanor changes once you rub his tip against your wet slit. “Are you—,” He reaches out to drag a finger through your folds. “You’re mad wet.” He states the obvious and when he pulls his finger away, your arousal drags with it. Without a second thought, he lifts his finger to his mouth, sucking on it to taste you. A low moan leaves his mouth. His eyes never leaving yours.

“You ready or did you change your mind?” You shake your head slowly, feeling more aroused than ever. “I’m ready.”

Once again, you maneuver his length through your folds before aligning it at your entrance. You take a deep breath and Yoongi’s hands rub your back. You slowly lower yourself down his length, feeling the pressure of him stretching you out. Your mouth falls agape when his full length is inside of your cunt.

After a few more rounds you get used to it. Yoongi stares at the action of your pussy swallowing his length. Your pussy is so tight around him, he’s afraid he might cum too fast.

He curse in your ear as you begin to ride him faster. “Fuck— you’ve been holding back on me for all these years.” Yoongi moves his hips, helping thrust into you. Your tits jump along with you as you bounce on his cock. So deep, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoes throughout the quiet apartment.

“Ah, Yoongi!” You moan out and Yoongi feels himself growing light headed. “You’re making me go crazy, _______.” He slams into your pussy faster— harder. At this point you weren’t even moving. Yoongi was the one in control of your body.

Especially when he moves you off of him, switching positions to take full control. You lie on your back, abandoned pussy and all. “Yoongi, put it back in.” You beg.

He shushes you before bending down, face in between your legs. His mouth attacks your wet cunt. He flatten his tongue to fully taste your sex. Licking and sucking all of you. His mouth sucks on your clit making you scream out in pleasure while his three fingers abuse your hole. “Yoongi, fuck that feels so good.” He slightly smirks up at you.

“Tell me whose pussy this is.” He says lowly. You could’ve came right then and there just from how sexy he said it. All dominant and territorial. The way he looks— his long dark hair sticking to his face and neck.

“Yuh— oh my god!” You moan out as your legs begin to shake at the overwhelming stimulation of his mouth and fingers.

“Tell me.” He demanded a bit louder.

“Yours Yoongi! It all yours, mm.” His fingers moves faster and you grip the sheets for moral support. “F- Fuck me Yoongi. I want your dick inside me.” It doesn’t take long before he obeys. He lifts up, just before you could orgasm and slides his hard dick inside of you. With Yoongi in control now, the pace is much faster. He lifts one of your legs up, putting it over his shoulder for better access.

Going deeper inside of you, hitting all of the right spots. You pull him down towards your body, your nails digging into his back, creating little crescent moon shaped marks. Chest to chest, Yoongi penetrates your pussy as the two of you share a feverish kiss.

“I’m gonna cum, Yoongi.” You say against his lips, out of breath. He rapidly nods his head. “Cum, mm.” His thrusts slow down, instead he makes sure to go deeper, hitting your spot repeatedly, making your legs shake around him. “Cum for me, _______.”

A few thrusts later and you cream on his dick. He pulls out, slips off the condom and starts stroking his dick. You place your hands over his, moving your mouth towards his tip. When the long drags of warm semen pour out you catch every drop of it. Mouth wide open, tongue out— you swallow his cum. Licking the tip afterwards for good measure.

Yoongi’s heavy breathing fills the room as he collapses on the bed. You get up to throw the used condom out and to collect your pajamas off the floor, walking with a bit of a limp. You toss Yoongi his basketball shorts before cleaning yourself up in the bathroom and changing.

When you come back, you find Yoongi already in his basketball shorts lying on the bed still. “Not gonna dip?” You ask, trying to sound nonchalant. You don’t want him to go but you don’t need him to know that. You were just awfully vulnerable and something similar to regret is already creeping up on you.

“Naw, why would I?” You shrug before laying in bed next to him. Not even being able to position yourself, he makes sure he cuddles into you, your face close as hell to his. “So how was the neighborhood’s dick?” He jokingly asks, laughing after. You lightly punch his chest.

“I’m not finna play with you Yoongi.” Yoongi serves you a feigned pout. “Awe, you regretting it already?” You don’t say anything because you really don’t know if you are. You don’t regret the sex because— fuck that was amazing. Best dick you ever had and you really will give him a good rating. However, the things that were said could’ve stayed unsaid. You shared too much vulnerability and that’s not something you’re comfortable with. The last thing you need is Yoongi to throw any of that shit back up in your face.

“I don’t regret it.” You conclude. His arms wrap around your waist tighter, grabbing one of your legs to wrap it around him. “But it won’t happen again. This was a one time thing.”

“But you swallowed my cum.” He pouts again and for some reason you don’t think it’s feigned this time. So you lightly smack his lips. Too much of a distraction.

“Because I didn’t want to get my covers dirty, you freak.” He dramatically raises his eyebrows. “So now I’m back to being a freak.” You sigh because it seems like he’s purposely not paying attention to what you’re actually trying to say.

“Yoongi.” You say seriously making him nod his head. “Okay, I got it. it was a one time thing.” Despite his display of understanding, you can’t help but hear the underlying disappointment in his voice.

You lay in his arms for hours. Neither of you fall asleep, replaying the previous events in your head. You debate with yourself whether or not you’re being in denial, too petty, stubborn, unreasonable. Whether or not you should give Yoongi a chance. Because right now you feel safe. Right now, everything is okay while your head rests against his beating chest. Right now…

“AGUST D GET YO’ ASS DOWN HERE NIGGA!”

You jump. You and Yoongi both lift up— your face of shock is a bit different from his. He knows what it is and you think you do too. That’s why you’re shook as fuck. The shouting and calling through the window doesn’t stop. And when Yoongi arms unravels from your waist, your heart sinks.

“What is that?” You ask.

And when that same, familiar, sorry ass, corny ass smirk that you hate so damn badly form onto Yoongi’s face… you knew.

“That’s D-TOWN BABY.”

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zegrasdrysdale · 11 months ago

Note

Hi! I had a dream last night where Nico got severely injured during a game and died (my dreams are crazy, I know) and I was devastated. But it gave me an idea for a fic where the reader has a similar dream but Nico’s on a roadie so she calls him and she’s still shaken up by it when he gets home. Lots of fluff! Loved your other Nico fics too btw!!

[ nightmare ] n. hischier

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) has a dream where husband Nico dies on the ice. to assure herself that he’s okay, she calls him while on his roadie and he makes sure to comfort her as soon as he gets home to Jersey

warning(s) : mentions of blood, severe injury and death

author’s note : i have been excited to write this request since i got it. it’s all i have been able to think about since i first read it (also anon, pls relax w these crazy dreams)

༺═──────────────═༻

The Prudential Center fell silent as soon as the Devils captain hit the ground, unmoving, after an opponent’s skate hit his neck. Paramedics and training staff came running out as soon as the first drops of blood hit the ice.

Nico’s eyes are open, but the light is completely gone. He is staring at the ceiling. Both teams have gathered around him as they try to block the sight of him from the crowd and flashing cameras. Paramedics strip him of his jersey and gear as they work on him.

A pin could drop and the sound would echo with how quiet it is in the arena. Fans are on their feet. (Y/N) has pressed herself against the glass as she watches the paramedics stop pushing on his chest nearly ten minutes after they started.

It feels like her own chest caves in when the paramedic beside Nico looks up and shakes their head. “He’s gone.”

The words are loud and clear, even through the glass.

“Nico!”

She wakes up with a start and a racing heart. She's reaching out for her husband, but he isn't in bed with her.

The sight of a dead Nico in a pool of his own blood on the ice is so fresh on her mind that her entire body shakes. Every time she blinks, all she can see is the paramedic shaking their head.

Her cheeks are wet with tears as she looks around the dark room. Her husband’s name is on her lips.

He isn’t gone. He’s just on the west coast for a roadie for the week. He’ll be back this weekend. All he's doing is playing the California teams and Vancouver then he'll be back in their apartment.

If he’s going to be on the west coast for the week then he will be awake right now.

As soon as the realization that Nico might still be awake hits her, she reaches for her charging phone on the table beside her. With shaky fingers, she finds Nico’s contact and clicks the call button.

It rings a few times before Nico picks up. “Hej, liebling,” he says as soon as he picks up. She can hear music in the background, like he’s out with his teammates. “You okay? It’s pretty late for you.”

The moment she hears her husband’s voice. she lets out a soft sob. She covers her mouth, but Nico already heard the sob.

“Baby,” Nico tries again. “What’s going on? Why are you crying?”

“Nothing,” she croaks. “It’s stupid. I’m sorry for calling.”

She goes to hang up but Nico is already talking. “No, it’s fine,” he says. “Give me a second to get somewhere that's a little more quiet so I can hear you.”

Nico shouts something to someone then the music gets quieter. Her hands still shake so she puts the phone on speaker and grabs Nico’s pillow. It still smells like him since he’s only been gone two days. She plays with her weddings ring.

A door shuts on the other end of the line. It’s quiet for a moment then Nico asks, “Why are you crying, baby?”

“It’s really stupid, Nico,” she tells him.

“Nothing is stupid when you’re crying, liebling,” he softly replies to her. “So talk to me.”

She bites her lip and grips Nico’s pillow. “I had a dream,” she begins to say. “More of a nightmare, I think. You died on the ice after getting cut with a skate. It felt real and I needed to hear your voice so I knew that you were okay. It was a really stupid reason to call you, especially since you’re out with the team.”

Her husband is quiet for a second like he’s processing what she said. “(Y/N), listen to me,” he says. “If you call me, even when I’m out with the team, I will answer. There is no such thing as a stupid reason to call me. Okay?”

She mumbles an “okay” but she isn’t very convinced.

“Just know that I’m okay too,” Nico continues. “I’m not hurt. Actually, nothing is hurt. I feel really good despite getting bumped a few times tonight.” He pauses. “Are you okay? Sounds like this dream really shook you up.”

With the back of her hand, (Y/N) wipes away her tears because Nico isn’t here right now. “It felt so real,” she whispers. “Seeing you on the ice. Eyes lifeless and you so still with the blood around you. I couldn’t do anything because I was behind the glass. I couldn’t get to you.”

Tears well in her eyes as she remembers her nightmare. Banging on the glass echoes in her head and she squeezes her eyes shut.

“I wish I was with you,” Nico confesses. “Do I need to ask if I can come home? I can say that there is a family issue and be home by tomorrow.”

“No!” she quickly says. “I’ll be okay until you get home. You don't need to come back home. Promise me you’ll be okay and won’t take any skates to the neck or anything please.”

“I promise,” he replies. “The guys are heading back to the hotel. Do you need me to stay on the phone until you go back to sleep?”

She thinks about it, but she’s not a child anymore. “I’ll be okay,” she tells him. “Go get some sleep. Have a safe travel day tomorrow and I’ll see you when you get home. Text me when you land."

“Alright,” Nico sighs. “I love you. Try to get some sleep.”

“I love you too,” she replies. “Goodnight.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Her husband must really love her because the next game after that phone call, (Y/N) sees Nico on the ice with a neck guard on. She smiles and nearly cries at the sight. He's taking that precaution because of the phone call.

She does cry when Nico comes walking through the door five days after the phone call.

(Y/N) hears his key jiggle in the door around three and she is immediately on her feet. The door swings open and before Nico can let go of his suitcase, she jumps on him and wraps herself completely around him.

“Thank God,” she sobs into her husband’s neck. She peppers the skin with soft kisses. “You’re here. You’re really okay.”

“Of course I am, liebling,” Nico replies as he wraps his arms around his wife. “I’m here and I’m okay.”

The door shuts behind Nico and he walks into the living room. He sits with her completely wrapped around him. Both of her knees are on either side of his waist. "I missed you," she whispers.

He wraps his arms around her tight. "I know," he replies. "You've called me every single day. You've never done that before."

"That dream really messed me up, Nico," she confesses. He puts a finger under her chin and lifts her head up. Her husband is blurry because of the tears that have welled up in her eyes. “I haven’t really slept well because of it. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is-”

“I know, liebling,” Nico interrupts so she doesn’t have to say it again. “I’m here. I promised that I’d never leave you when we said ‘I do’ last year, and I intend to keep it. Even in your dreams from here on out.”

Her bottom lip wobbles and Nico’s thumb brushes it softly. “I can’t believe you love me enough to wear a neck guard,” she whispers.

He smiles and brushes her hair behind her ear. “If it meant keeping myself safe so you wouldn’t be worried then yeah, I’ll wear neck guards,” he tells her. “I know you have been worried since every news outlet is talking about neck guards and player safety. It’s clearly bothering you so to make sure I took every precaution to keep you from worrying.”

She feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders with Nico taking precautions to stay safe. It’s not much but it’ll keep her from reliving her nightmare.

Without realizing it, she yawns right in Nico’s face. “Are you tired, baby?” he asks with laughter evident in his voice.

(Y/N) nods and nuzzles right in to his neck. Her nose rests against his jaw and she sighs. “Gonna sleep right here, okay?”

“Sleep as long as you want,” he replies. “I’ll take a nap with you.”

She hums and settles in. She wraps her arms around his torso under his suit jacket to get warm while Nico buries his nose in her hair.

“Ich liebe dich,” Nico whispers, the Swiss-German making her feel a little more comfortable and relaxed.

༺═──────────────═༻

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desideriumwriter · 2 months ago

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Anyone But You | Chapter 11

Chapter Summary: It's now Fred's turn to hold a grudge against you, you try to smooth over things with him by returning something of his. After unexpected events unfold at the third task, you get comforted by the last person you'd want to be comforted by. You think.

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Category - enemies to lovers + hurt/comfort

Content Warnings - reader is in denial once again, canon character death, grief, crying, this one is just a mess of emotions yall

Word Count - 4.5k

A/N: supriseee, this is why i changed the dates of the tasks, buckle up. this one is...a lot. sorry.

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous | Next | Navi

Fred hadn’t made any contact with you since your outburst at the Ball.

He paid you no mind when he walked past you the next day to board the Hogwarts Express. He never sent any owls like he usually did over the remainder of winter break. He nor George bothered you anymore in potions. During the second task of the tournament, Fred stood as far away as he could from you on the wooden dock.

It had been almost two months since you lost it at him and the most he did was glance in your direction and shove past you once in the hallway.

Yet, there were still constant reminders of him and you lingering around.

God, you were infuriated when you saw a photo of Fred and you had made it onto Rita Skeeter's section in the Daily Prophet.

“That bitch is a bloody liar!” You exclaimed as you looked at the newspaper.

Of course, her photographer had to get a photo at the exact moment you smiled and let out a small laugh instead of when you stood up and began shouting at him.

Now that seemingly innocent split second of a moment between Fred and you was playing on a loop in a heart shaped frame.

“Woah! Language!” Cedric was shocked yet amused by your outburst.

“Young love? This is what you call young love?” You mocked, pointing at the photo of Fred and you, “How’d she even get in? I can’t believe it!”

“Maybe it’s a sign.” Cedric shrugged, laying down on the stone bench.

“A sign for what? That Rita Skeeter has no idea what the hell she’s talking about?” You went on as Cedric closed his eyes and sighed. “I mean, come on. I smile at him for three seconds and all of the sudden I’m in love?”

“Merlin's beard, just put us all out of our misery and admit it already.“ Cedric let out a dramatic groan, rubbing his face.

“Admit what?”

"Admit you have feelings for him."

"Only the worst ones." You whacked him with the newspaper. “Besides, I already told you what happened. I’m sure he hates me now too.”

“I’m sure he’s just heartbroken. The first stage is denial.” Cedric commented, earning him a disagreeing head shake from you. “You know, some time in the future you’re gonna look back and think: Damn, Cedric was right, I am in love with Fred Weasley, I’m just too stubborn to admit it.” He teased in a high pitched voice. You hit him again.

“Shove off, just tell me how your date went with Cho.”

It seemed like no matter what you did, you couldn’t escape Fred.

Even with Angelina and Katie refusing to bring them up, even with Fred or George no longer bothering you, even with Fred literally hating you now, you couldn’t escape him.

Like when you opened your dresser doors, looking for your missing glove, only to find Fred’s hat he gave to you at the first task.

You didn’t realize you still had it, you didn’t realize you never gave it back.

He never asked for it back.

The guilt was settling in.

He never asked for it back though. He could’ve taken it back after the first task was over, or the next day, or really any other time. But he didn’t. He let you keep it. All this time has passed and he let you keep it. Why?

Fuck, you felt like you were going insane. You had to talk to someone about this.

“Cedric! Cedric!” You called out, running up to him in the empty courtyard. You were quite lucky to find him alone these days, he usually was always walking in a group of his supporters. “I need your help! I really need your help!” Cedric acknowledged you, but he didn’t stop walking.

“I’m not sure if I can help you right now, I promised to meet Cho at the pitch in like ten minutes-”

“Your snogging sesh with her can wait!” Cedric goggled at you for a second, continuing to walk.

“It’s urgent! It’s about Fred!” You grabbed onto his arm, pulling him to stop.

“Oh my- When is it not?” He groaned, his face scrunched up and scowling.

“I’m thinking about apologizing to him.” You blurted out, Cedric's face dropped into a serious stare, he paused for a moment before speaking.

“To Fred? Are you serious?” You nodded, still straight faced. “You are?” He asked again, looking at you like you were speaking another language.

“Yes! I have a plan! Hey- what’s so funny about that?” Cedric began to let out small laughs, now you were scowling.

“Oh I’m sorry, I just, you’re so deep in denial.” He said through chuckles, he actually found this humorous. “I’ve been waiting forever for this, I cannot wait til i see you two walking hand in hand in the hallways after this!” You gaped and gave him a shove.

“Hey! I still hate him! I absolutely do! I just…feel bad.” He raised his brows at you in disbelief, giving you a look that said Really? That's it?

“I’m scared that it could end badly if it doesn’t work out.” You admitted, shamefully looking down.

“End badly? Oh please, you already hate each other. How much worse could it get?”

Worse, it turns out.

You had a plan. The next time you saw Fred by himself. You would stop him, return his beanie back, and apologize. And, you would make it clear that you weren’t friends, that you still found him bloody annoying. You just didn’t want anything of his in your space.

Maybe it wasn’t the best plan, or the best way to apologize. It was also a bit weird carrying around his beanie in your bag everywhere you went. But, you didn’t know how much longer you could go having his belongings in your presence.

You didn’t know how much longer you could go with him ignoring your presence instead of bothering it.

You were able to stop him after you caught him wandering down an empty hallway. Honestly, you wanted to hide behind a pillar and let him walk past without noticing you. But, he couldn’t avoid you forever, neither could you.

“Fred?” You stepped out of your hiding place, he saw you but he didn’t show you any acknowledgement, continuing to walk with a stone cold expression.

“Fred, wait.” You called out, following after him, “Can you just stop avoiding me for a second?” You exclaimed. He drug his feet along the ground as he stopped, turning to you with his arms crossed.

“Stop avoiding you? Reckon that’s what you begged me to do the last time we talked.” He spat out, shaking his head.

“I didn’t beg-” You bit your tongue. Now's not the time for your defensiveness. This is not the time for an argument.

You reminded yourself that and took a deep breath and swallowing your anger. Fred let out a breath of annoyance as you composed yourself.

“I’m not here to apologize.” You blurted out, your plan was now abandoned. Fred's face scrunched up for a second in confusion, you rummaged through your bag hanging from your shoulder, “I’d just thought you’d want this back.” You pulled out his hat, holding it up in between the two of you, your eyes on the ground.

Though you didn’t dare to look straight at him, you could see his posture soften in your peripheral vision. Wanting to get this over with you shook it at him, signaling for him to take it.

“You didn’t have to stop me out here, you should’ve just left this on my bed or something..” He trailed off as he reached out one arm, keeping the other tucked around him as he snatched the hat from you awkwardly.

Both of you stood there in silence for a moment, Fred looking at his returned hat, you adjusting the strap on your bag.

“Uh, cheers.” He gave you a tight lipped smile, turning and walking back to his original direction.

Okay, maybe it hadn’t gotten worse than it already was between you two, but it was sure as hell awkward now.

“So you didn’t do what you said you were going to do?” Cedric stared at you, expressionless.

“I didn’t say I was going to do it, I said I was thinking about it.” You shrugged. Cedric fully sat up in a swift manner, jaw ajar and eyes narrowed as he stared.

“You said you had a plan!” He then cried out. Oh, so he was listening and not just laughing at you earlier.

“To give him his hat back! Not beg for forgiveness.” You huffed, slouching against the tree. “Besides, he never begged for mine all those times.”

Always a battle between you two, Cedric wanted to say, but he knew that’d only tick you off more.

“Yeah? And what’d he do instead?” Cedric questioned, it made you feel suspicious about what he had to say.

“He’d just go back to annoying me.” You shrugged, a bit hesitant since you could see the cogs turning in his head.

“So why don’t you?” Cedric suggested, “Why don’t you go and bother him like he always did to you?”

You opened your mouth, stammered out something unintelligible, and closed it. You had hit a wall, all this time you’ve worried about when Fred would acknowledge your presence, you weren’t doing anything to get him to acknowledge it.

You can’t say Cedric’s got a point. You won’t admit to that.

“Because I’m happy he doesn’t bother me anymore, I’m not going to put an end to that! I enjoy him leaving me alone!” You crossed your arms, putting up your wall of defense.

“No you don’t.” Cedric let out a breath through his nose, his face was stoic, unamused.

“I do!”

“You’ve complained about it a million times since he has!” He exclaimed. “Oh, Fred did this! Fred said that! Fred bothered me in class! Fred pissed me off a the ball! Fred won’t talk to me! Fred doesn’t like me!” He mimicked, gesturing wildly with his hands.

Fine, maybe you had mentioned how Fred was now avoiding you in the past two months. Maybe those mentions of it spiraled into rants, rants that Cedric had to listen all about.

You just shook your head doubtingly, Cedric sighed and moved over. He slapped a hand on your shoulder.

“I’ve only seen people care this much about another person, about what they’re doing, what they’re saying, unless they loved them.” He grabbed onto both shoulders, holding on in the way coaches do when giving their players a pep talk.

“I have been your bestfriend for six years now.” He shook you slightly with each word, putting an euphemism on them. “And I have never, never, seen you care so much about another person. Maybe, you should think about that.” He gave a sympathetic smile, the silence letting his words sink in.

Nope. You weren’t going to let it.

“Piss off! I am not in love with him!” You wriggled out of his grasp. Cedric grumbled.

“You should think about it!” He repeated, putting his hands up in defense.

The bell rung for the next class. Cedric stood up, giving you a brotherly pat on the shoulder.

“Tell me how it goes, when you're stuck with him in the Gryffindor section of the pitch.”

“Tell me how winning feels, I’ll let you rub it in my face. Good luck Ced.” You smiled.

“Good luck, Y/N.”

The third task began at dusk, the sun beginning to set and casting a golden glow on everything.

Now it was pitch black outside, Fleur had been pulled out early, and it felt like there were no signs of the task being won by the other three anytime soon. Your leg bounced wildly up and down in anticipation. Angelina and Katie noticed, you could see them staring in the corner of your eye.

“Something feels wrong, it’s been nearly three hours.” You spoke out, resting your head in hand.

“It’s a twenty-foot-tall maze, it’s gonna take a while for them to figure it out. Especially with your thick headed loverboy.” Fred blurted out, voice laced with mockery. You hated it, you were only stuck near him because Angelina and Katie were.

“Will you stop calling him that? You don’t have to be so rude all the time.” You said, exasperated already.

“That’s rich coming from you.” Fred muttered as he eyed you.

“It is a giant maze with whatever is in there. It might take a while.” Angelina said in a nicer way than Fred, budding into your and his blooming debacle.

“I know, I’m just worried that something might go wrong. Like, what if something messes up?” You gestured, biting your nail.

“He’s made it out of the past two just fine, I’m sure he’ll make it out of this one charming as ever.” Fred blurted, earning pointed glances from Angelina and Katie.

You tried to ignore your anxieties, trying to focus on whatever Katie and Angelina were chatting about. But your eyes kept darting back to Fleur on the sidelines, and Freds shitty attitude towards you wasn’t helping. Godric, is this how he felt all the times you’ve been pissy to him?

She looked terrified when she got pulled out, the tear stains on her face were obvious. You could see her rambling to the teachers about something, causing some of them to blink and give each other concerned glances.

She had seen something.

“What’d you think happened to her?” Katie took a look at Fleur, who was now surrounded by a group of girls clearly trying to comfort her.

“Don’t know. Maybe it was just too much for her.” Angelina shrugged, letting out a disappointed breath.

“She looks horrified.” You thought out loud. Eyes now locked on Fleurs face.

“I would be too. Battling dragons? Having to swim in the black lake? Going through a dark maze in the cold? Seeing all that, I’m a bit glad my name wasn’t picked.” Angelina muttered, leaning back.

“You’d have to pay me more than a thousand galleons and a dumb cup to get me to swim with ze Grindylows.” Katie nudged, mimicking Fleurs accent, earning a small breathy laugh out of Angelina and you.

Awhile after Fleurs return, a loud whoosh was heard, you got a glimpse of Cedric and Harry falling into the ground together.

The entire stadium shot up from their seats, including you. There was an uproar of cheer and the band playing the classic march.

“Did you see? It’s Harry and Cedric! They got back at the same time!” Angelina shouted, still clapping.

“Oh don’t tell me it’s gonna be another tie!” Katie groaned out. Fred and George pushed past the three of you, already excitedly running down to the field. Angelina grabbed onto your and Katie’s hands, creating a chain to follow them.

By the time you were hopping down onto the grass, a harrowing scream came from Fleur, she cupped a hand over her mouth and looked away.

Before you got to the front of the already forming crowd around the two champions, you could tell something was off.

None of Cedrics friends were cheering, neither were Harrys. Even the twins were dead still and staring.

As you got closer to the front of everyone, the music stopped and the noise of the crowd died down. Going from cheers to concerned whispers. You could hear the sobs of someone.

“No! He’s back! He’s back!” It was Harry. His voice was hoarse and heavy.

Pushing your way between the twins, now standing in front of them, you could see what was going on.

“He’s dead!” Harry cried, clutching onto Cedric’s limp body when the teachers tried to pull him off.

Time felt slow, stopped, frozen. You didn’t cry, you didn’t scream, all you did was stare. Feet stuck to the ground, and it felt like the only thing you could do was watch with wide, terrified, and glossy eyes as Harry grasped onto your bestfriends body, sobbing over him.

“Diggory's dead!” A horrified voice from the stands yelled, causing the entire pitch to fill with gasps and more whispers.

Soon the sight took hold of you. The scratches and blood smudged around Cedric’s pale face, his wide open yet lifeless eyes, his body having no reaction to being shook and held onto.

He was dead. Cedric Diggory was dead. The boy you grew up with, the boy who you saw as blood, the boy who was your bestfriend, was dead.

Taking in a shaky breath and blinking away the tears that had formed in your eyes, you attempted to step back, stumbling a bit and bumping into Fred’s chest.

“Oh shit,” Fred looked down at you, noticing the stray tears that had fallen from your eyes, “Oh shit, don’t look. Don’t look.” He grabbed onto you. You unconsciously yet willingly turned your body to his, allowing him to wrap his arms around you, attempting to prevent you from staring at the sight in front of you any longer.

“Don’t look.” He repeated.

Everything after the night of the third task felt foggy. It was a blur. Hell, it was a blur since then.

Classes were canceled for the next few days. Most days blended into each other, even when classes resumed normally. It was all foggy.

Most days you weren’t focused on anything. Stuck in a weird state of dissociation. Everything felt static.

You didn't remember a word Dumbledore said at Cedric’s memorial in the Great Hall. You didn’t cry with the others, you just sat and stared.

Even though you were usually in a daze, you still noticed things. You heard what people would talk about. You had ears, you could still hear.

“I’m worried about her. I haven’t seen her cry or…do anything really.” Katie whispered to Katie once you got up from the table.

“I know. I mean, we all have our own ways of grieving, maybe this is just hers?” Angelina leaned over.

Of course your friends tried to talk to you, not about what happened. But have regular chats, though you didn’t add much to the conversation, single worded responses or a short sentence.

On the nights you couldn’t sleep, you sat in the common room. Usually staying there until you went back to your bed, staying awake and sleep deprived the next day until you fell asleep where you were sitting in the common room.

“Hold on, shhh.” Fred stopped George as they snuck back into the common room, returning from another late night run to Zonkos. Fred pointed you to, knocked out on the leather chair.

“Should we wake her up?” George whispered, looking over at your curled up position and closed eyes.

“No, let her sleep, she needs it. I don’t think I’ve seen her actually go to bed in days.”

You noticed the faces you got from others when you walked by.

Pitiful glances. Sympathetic smiles. Apologetic looks. You noticed it all. You hated it. You hated being reminded of it. You hated feeling this way.

A shell of yourself is what you felt like. When you walked through the halls you felt like you carried the same presence as one of the ghosts in the castle.

It’s been nearly two weeks since Cedric passed and you still found yourself doing things you normally did with Cedric.

Stopping in the hallway after McGonagall's class in hopes to talk with him before he went in. Skimming your eyes around the Hufflepuff table looking for him. Waiting in the Courtyard after the school day for him to stop by and chat.

It was strange. It was like your brain hadn’t processed that he was gone.

You often wandered around, going on walks to clear your mind, even though it never worked. You found new places to sit and hide at.

Tonight, it was the Astronomy Tower. Rarely anyone came up there this late, the cool wind on your face helped ground you, and you had a pretty damn good view of the starry sky. You’d get in trouble if you were caught out here, especially with the strict rules they enforced for the rest of the year after what happened at the tournament.

You sat against the planet structure in the middle of the tower, your back against the hard marble while you brought your legs up to your chest, resting your head on your knees and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Swaying yourself gently side to side, you stared at the sky, almost not catching the quick footsteps coming up the stairwell.

Fred appeared.

Fuck. Why is he here?

“Hey.” He greeted quietly, putting his hands in his front pockets once he felt the cold air hit them. “It’s pretty cold out here.”

You stared at him for a second, a bit confused on many things. He gave you an awkward smile.

“So, what’re you up to?” He rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Why are you here Fred?” You unraveled from your position. Your tone wasn’t mean, it wasn’t snarky or sarcastic, it was sad. Defeated. Fred noticed.

“I was looking for you.” He unraveled, “I was worried. Katie told me you weren’t in your bed or the common room. Her and Angelina were freaking out looking for you, they thought you might’ve…done something.” He mumbled the last few words.

You only stared at him for a few seconds through lidded eyes, an unamused look on your face.

“I'm not up here to throw myself off the astronomy tower, if that’s what you assumed.” You muttered, turning your gaze back to in front of you.

“No! No! Not at all! I didn’t assume that.” Fred squeaked, trying to defend himself, “I was just a bit concerned, is all.”

“Since when do you care?” You muttered, only paying attention to his last sentence. Fred spent the last two months hating you, but oh, now your bestfriend is dead and of course he feels guilty for being so mean.

“I just…I’m worr- a lot of us are worried about you.”

“You should be worried about Cho, I know I am. She’s doing worse than me.” You huffed, you weren’t trying to sound mean, you were telling the truth. You knew Cedric's death was tearing the poor girl apart, she was his girlfriend for Godrics sake.

“Yeah, she’s driving herself mad.” Fred tried to joke as he looked down, but failed. “She’s worried about you too though.” He said softly. You let out a small hum, picking at your pajama pants.

The both of you stayed there for a good few seconds, maybe a minute, silent and awkwardly keeping your eyes away from each other.

You took in a sharp breath, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know what to do.” You looked over to him, “What am I supposed to do? With everything?” Your voice cracked a tiny bit and it made you cringe. Did Fred know how to handle grief? Probably not, but he knew what you were asking.

“I don’t know.” Fred's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. You clenched your jaw to try and keep from crying.

Giving him a nod and tight-lipped smile at his response, you bit the inside of your cheek and turned your head away when a few stray tears fell.

This is the first time you’ve cried since Cedric’s death.

It was horrible. You hated that you were crying, and that Fred was there to see you so vulnerable, or that he was talking to you, but you didn’t think it mattered during that moment, you just needed comfort. You would really take any comfort too at this point.

“Can I sit?” He nodded to the empty spot next to you.

“I don’t care anymore.” You shook your head and shrugged weakly.

Fred walked over and sat a comfortable yet close distance next to you, his long legs bending at the knees.

“Can I ask you a question?” Fred played with a loose thread on his sweater, likely knitted by his mum.

“Sure.” You didn’t have the energy in you to say no, or be snippy towards him, you felt exhausted.

“Were you in love with Cedric?” Fred looked at you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed, a small bit of hope bloomed in Fred’s chest, he’d gotten a classic reaction out of you. You hadn’t become a shell of yourself, you were still you.

“No.” You let out a small, humorless laugh. “I know everyone thinks that. But I wasn’t. He was a brother more than anything.” Fred wanted to let you know not everyone thought that, mainly just him, he was just curious.

“He was too in love with himself,” You joked, “Always so cocky.” Fred noticed the way the ends of your mouth slightly curled up as you shook your head.

“Yeah? I always knew he was too thick headed for his own good. He’d probably use the reflection of the cup as a mirror.” He breathed out, a lighthearted attempt to make you laugh. It worked, somewhat. A slight smile appeared on your face as you let out small bits of laughter.

“I’m serious, Lee told me that he caught him posing in the sink mirrors in the prefects bathroom!” Fred began to laugh with you, as you laughed even harder, your body bending forward a bit due to it.

This is the first time he’s ever made you laugh.

His laughter was mostly confused. He was puzzled at how you could find that to be this funny, until your weak chuckles turned into strong sobs. You broke. Crying into your hands.

Fred wasn’t sure what to do at this moment. His way of comforting was humor, and it worked, but not the way he expected it to. So, he just hugged you, he actually hugged you.

He closed the small gap between your bodies and wrapped two long arms around you. And you let him. You didn’t hug him back, you just sobbed, letting your heavy limbs fall and lean yourself into him.

He had one arm wrapped around you, holding you tightly while the other was brushing his hand over your hair.

It was strange, you didn’t care that Fred Weasley was hugging you, holding you. You didn’t try to shove him off, or break out of his grasp, you were too exhausted to protest.

Instead, you shifted into a position where you could grasp onto him, you wrapped your arms around his lanky torso, crying into his chest, letting out heavy sobs that wracked your entire body.

You said his name through a sharp breath, Fred cupped your face with both hands as you brought your head up to look at him.

“Fred, I’m sorry.” You broke down again, “I’m so sorry.” You said through sobs.

“Shh, it’s alright. Save all that for later. It’s alright.” He shushed you, pulling you back into your cradling position again.

If you told yourself from just a few months ago that this was happening. You would’ve never believed it. You would’ve never thought it’d be a real moment between you two.

But tonight, it was, it was real, it was happening, you were crying on the top of the astronomy tower while Fred Weasley, out of all people, held you.

You tried to apologize, and you sobbed into his chest while Fred Weasley, raked his fingers through your hair and held you.

tell me what you thought here! <3 or ask tba to the taglist for this series!

TAGLIST: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog@five-seconds-flat @nal-leo-17 @rhunew @albertdabuttler @weak-aesthetic @whotfskai @m00nymarauder @miaandthediamonds @hpstuff244444 @tarzanathetumblingwarrior @isabellavolere @navs-bhat @honeybee240 @pillowjj @df841 @siriusmarryme @ooopsiedaisy997 @imamexican @residentdemonhunter @ma1dita @b4tm4nn @anonymously-ominous @mistpx

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley angst #anyone but you #anyone but you fic #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader

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catawonkus · 1 year ago

Text

The titanic discourse has been interesting and reminded me of something I already knew: on the internet, you’re not talking to the same person you’re arguing with.

It’s like: Person A posts “what a crazy thing but i feel sorry for them”; Person B replies “I don’t! I hate billionaires. I hope they die terribly and are banging on the sides of the metal begging as they die in agony” (a paraphrase of a comment I saw)

Person C sees this, thinks, holy shit, that’s a terrible thing to take joy out of imagining, but doesn’t respond.

Then person D makes a sort of tasteless meme, or whatever. Person E makes an actual funny meme.

Person C is still thinking about B and so makes a post being like “some of you need to be more compassionate; these are real people”

Person F is super into the critiquing of the lack of safety and cares deeply for the preservation of the titanic. They see D, E, and then C’s post but not B’s comment. They make a post. “No one is saying we want them to die!! We’re just pointing out the irony and critiquing it!”

And it just kind of spirals until people who are seeing news articles like “explorers and heroes are mourned” are making posts like “anyone calling for sympathy is a bootlicker and are ignoring the other tragedies like the Greek boat!!” In response to the articles. But it’s seen by people who are calling for kindness because they’ve seen horrible comments.

And people who are perfectly fine with critique but not with ghoulish comments wishing horrible death on people are offended because they’ve been called a traitor to the working class. And people who posted a funny meme are offended because they’ve been called a monster. Or at least they both think so.

Because in your head, you are arguing with one person, but it’s being seen by everyone; and some of those people have seen stupid or horrible things in the opposite direction and they are arguing with that. But it looks like they’re arguing with you.

Especially on tumblr, where most arguments are shouted into the void.

Anyway this was such a ramble. But I always have to remind myself of this.

#titanic

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! I just love your levi fics so much!

For a request I was hoping for something like this -

Levi & reader had grown up together along with Isabel and farlan, when the group gets sent off onto their fateful mission levi thinks reader died alongside with Isabel and farlan. (Angst)

Only to discover years later that reader was alive and actually doing very well for themselves, well known and a strong fighter. Just a very cute reunion fic maybe? Maybe romance 👀 thanks! <3

🦅- Anon

this was an emotional rollercoaster I'm still crying babe but here you go, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do <3

Levi thinking he lost his sun forever only to find you again after years

Pairing: Levi x fem! reader

Word Count: 3,3k

Synopsis: It's been 1869 days since you were killed by the abnormal titan Isabel and Farlan lost their lives to as well, 1869 days of missing you and regretting that Levi didn't tell you about his true feelings when you were still alive. Little does he know you aren't so easy to get rid of and that you are still out there...

Warnings: death, blood, war scene, depression, full on hurt to comfort, super duper fluff in the end, as usual not proofread because I need to go to bed now hehe

Notes: Finally my first Levi fic after literally MONTHS! I know a lot of you were patiently waiting for more attack on titan content and I'm beyond sorry it took me so long babes. Please let me know how you feel about Attack on Titan content so that I might do more and especially regular fics in the future <3

He can’t take his eyes off you. To be exact, the sunlight suits your facial features so well that it seems impossible to ever let go of your sight.

You have been friends since he met you on that day exactly 6 years ago, when you tried to steal a load of food for a heavy pregnant woman. Since then, he was captivated by your beauty, your brain, your skills. But somehow, this makes the stinging fact that you sit beside him even worse.

“You shouldn’t be here, (y/n)”, he speaks out before he’s able to stop himself.

Immediately, your gaze drifts away from the dreamy scenery to him, eyes widen in surprise.

“What are you talking about, Levi?”

Don’t say his name while looking at him like that, not with that gentle tone in your angelic voice. He told himself over and over that you are nothing but a close friend, maybe considered family like Isabel and Farlan.

He huffs to himself. What a filthy little lie.

“This mission is dangerous. I don’t want you to get-“

“Hurt? Killed? You told me about all those things more than once and I’m happy to repeat myself again for you: I will not leave you, Farlan’s and Isabel’s side. After all, we are friends, right? And friends don’t leave each other behind.”

You gift him with your usual breath-taking smile while his heart skips a beat.

A friend.

He has to remind himself over and over again, force his orbs away from you. You are nothing but friends. And he will never risk to lose you over the potential of something more.

-the evening before the mission-

“I thought I’d find you here”, your teasing voice shouts from behind.

You are probably the last thing he wants to see this evening. Not because he doesn’t enjoy your company, but because he wasn’t able to convince you to stay in safety. Erwin Smith made it very clear that this mission is dangerous, that multiple survey corps member already died behind those walls. And even though you, Farlan and Isabel showed your skills countless times before, he can’t stop his train of thought. You, getting grabbed by a titan. You, getting ripped apart, your blood scattering onto the ground. He won’t have the chance to stay by your side during all times. One wrong movement, one thoughtless decision and you’d be gone.

“I don’t even have to ask in order to know what you’re thinking about right now, Levi.”

The second your hand brushes over his shoulder, he is too lost in the feeling of your bare hand against his shirt to worry any further.

“You don’t have to worry about Farlan, Isabel and me. After all, you’re the one who taught us everything we know.”

“Tsk. You were already doing fine when I met you.”

“But you were the one who showed me there is still hope, something worth fighting for. If it wasn’t for you, I would have died down there without ever seeing the sun once in my life”, you reply.

All of the sudden you place your hand on top of his and squeeze in gently. That look on your face, is it…Affection? He shakes his head firmly, doesn’t allow himself to get lost in that oh so sweet idea. A woman like you will never fall for a cold-hearted man like him, not when the whole squad fell head over heels for you the second they got to know you better. You are a true sweetheart, everyone’s favorite, a ray of sunshine. He, on the other hand, is none of that.

“Stop praising me or else I’ll puke and make a mess onto the freshly cleaned floor.”

No, he doesn’t deserve your kind word, doesn’t even deserve that spark in your eyes. You are better off without him, even as a friend.

“You’ll gonna clean it up anyway”, you bite back with a wide grin.

“Actually, there is something else I want to talk with you about, Levi.”

The sudden change in your voice paired with the warmth of your hand leaving his lets his gaze wander to yours again – only to catch you already staring.

“What is it?”, he questions instantly.

“If you have to decide between Isabel, Farlan and me…Just promise that you’ll safe them before even thinking about my ass. Please look after them and don’t worry about me.”

His eyes widen just the tiniest bit, reveal his surprise and…his resist. Not thinking about you, leaving you behind? The urge to shake you becomes almost unbearable when he grabs your arms passionately, gaze locking with yours.

“There is no way in hell I will ever leave you behind, dumbass. Don’t you dare to die on me, got it?”

“Promise”, you urge.

“Promise you’ll look out for them first.”

“(y/n)…”

He has to close his eyes in order to stop staring at your perfect lips. This might be the last time he ever sees you alive so unbothered by his side, the last time he witnesses the way the dim moonlight lights up your hair.

This…might be your last night alive.

“Please, I can’t live with the thought of being without them. They are still so young.”

“What about you, though? What if I don’t want to live a life without you? What if I die myself?”

You smile at him sadly, your hand caressing his cheek oh so gently.

“We all know you won’t die out there, Levi. It’s us who might not be here with you tomorrow. After all, that’s why you wanted to stop us from coming with you, right?”

He swallows hard. Every single one of you is a skilled fighter. Hell, you even survived the underground with countless enemies chasing after you. But this? This is something completely different. For the first time since getting to know all of you, Levi isn’t so sure about your abilities anymore.

“I promise”, he replies with low voice.

“Thank you”, you breathe out.

“Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we? We have a big fight ahead of us.”

Oh, there is no doubt in the fact that Levi won’t close his eyes this whole cursed night, pondering about a way to safe all of you. But even though you are very aware of that, you turn on your heel and smile at him one last time.

The brightest smile of them all, making your face gleam in nothing but affection.

“Oh, and Levi?”

“What is it, dumbass?”

“When I was talking about the sun earlier…That sun was you.”

And then you’re gone in the dark, leaving him with his heart almost beating out of his chest and feelings clustered all over the place.

Him, your sun?

-the battle-

Your eyes widen in sheer horror, the violent scream escaping your lips not reaching your ringing ears. Those powerful orbs…There is no doubt in the fact that this is her, that this is Isabel. Tears stream down your face uncontrollably, mix with the bitter coat of rain that sticks to your face uncomfortably.

Your friend is dead. And you were not able to protect her.

“You.”

The monster standing in front of you doesn’t look like the other titans you’ve seen before. Eyes red like crimson, lips curved into an evil grin. This thing is absolutely aware of the agony it causes you and enjoys every tear you cry.

You grab your blades even tighter, narrow eyes fixating its nape.

“I will make you suffer”, you press out through gritted teeth.

“I will make you regret that you even touched her!”

You dash forward only to get greeted by thin air. Fuck, this thing is so fast you didn’t even realize it was gone until your blade crashed into the muddy ground. Why do your hands suddenly start shaking, your knees felling weak? It’s just you and that thing. The other corps members around you? Scuttered onto the floor in bloody pieces.

Levi?

You escape its clutches by a hair’s breadth, the monster’s stinging smell of death and rotten flesh making your guts turn. You need to focus, need to control your fear and anger. Otherwise, you’ll die just like all the others did.

Levi…Is he dead as well? There is no one around, no one showed a single reaction to your multiple cries for help, your signs. Maybe you’re the only one who’s left. Which means that Farlan and Levi are gone.

Levi, gone? Fuck, you should have told him about your true feelings yesterday, you should have pressed your lips against his like you always dreamed about. This was the last opportunity to tell him how much you love him before both of you die.

And now it will be forever too late.

Just when you’re about to dash forward, the arm of the titan yanks towards you with breath-taking speed. Your eyes widen in sheer horror as all you can do is stare in sheer disbelief.

Is this how you will die? Through the hand of an abnormal titan, eating you alive?

You always dreamed of a life on the surface with Levi by your side. Maybe a small cottage on the edge of a busy city close to a river. Having a little farm with a few animals here and there, Levi working for a local business while you stay home and care for your home. For a brief moment, you allow your eyes to rest, to get lost in the life you will never have.

If only you had told him sooner. Maybe then it would have been different. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel your bones crack against the sheer force of the titan’s flat palm, throwing you into the air like a ball.

As soon as your body hits the ground, everything goes black.

-5 years later-

He opens his eyes against the way too harsh sunlight. Another night he hasn’t slept more than 2 hours. Day 1869 of missing you.

“Good morning, Captain Levi!”

He doesn’t even care to reply, feet carrying him down the hallway monotone. His days have always been the same since the day he lost Isabel, Farlan and you: Getting haunted in his sleep, waking up alone, surviving another day in this living hell. It’s almost ironic, how he already hated the world when you were in it. Little did he know how much worse it would get when you’re gone.

There is no day since back then that doesn’t revolve around you. You, with your hair down in the sun. You, beating up some tuff guys and showing them their place. You, that fucking cursed night before you had to leave.

Until this day, he hates himself for not being there. By the time he arrived, everyone was dead, brutally murdered by an abnormal titan. And even after searching for your corpse for hours in the pouring rain, he didn’t even manage to find a single limb left of you. This should be a good sign. After all, it might mean that you somehow managed to survive.

“The chances of (y/n) surviving and managing to flee on her own are 1 against 500.000”, Erwin said back then.

Maybe it would have actually felt better, knowing that you’re dead. Maybe this would spare him from getting haunted by your giggling and fucking gorgeous face each and every night.

But…If getting haunted by your presence is all he has left, he shouldn’t complain about it.

“We are heading out today. It is said that there are countless abnormal titans roaming around a city nearby”, Erwin explains briefly.

“How the fuck did these things even manage to get in there?”, Levi grumbles in response while taking a sip of his way too hot tea.

“That’s not what I care about. What I’m more interested in is the fact that a group of villagers managed to trap one of them.”

Levi can’t help but put his cup of tea down while Hange bursts out in sheer excitement next to him. A group of villagers, trapping an abnormal titan?

“Former corps members?”, he questions.

“Apparently not. Maybe they are interested in a new job”, Erwin replies, getting up from his seat and straightening his uniform.

“We are leaving right now.”

“Right now? Over some brats who were lucky to not get eaten by that titan?”

“You can’t deny that these ‘brats’ have to be skilled in order to trap an abnormal titan, Levi. Also, I heard the head of them is a woman.”

Levi huffs to himself. Skilled, huh? Lucky is definitely the better fit.

You sink your blade straight into the eye of the disgusting creature lying in front of you, watch in sheer satisfaction how it squeals underneath.

“Hope you enjoy that as much as I do”, you mumble, twisting and turning your sword painfully slow.

“(y/n), d-don’t you think that’s enough? What if it escapes?”, the man next to you cries out, holding safe distance between himself and the abnormal.

“So what? Listen, you little shit. If you even try to escape, I will kill you without even blinking, got it?”

You rip your blade out. In, out, in, out until everything around you is covered in crimson.

Just like back then.

You stumble back when a wave of nausea hits you. The sight of Isabel’s lifeless head, her limbs scattered across the muddy floor. Back then, you weren’t able to save her, weren’t even able to save yourself. If it wasn’t for your crew, you’d be dead by now. Just like her…

“Hey.”

“How about you take a break for a sec? You’re drifting off again.”

Her gently voice pulls you out of your nightmare just like her tender touch. Petra has been the greatest support since that fateful day. In fact, the only reason you are still alive is her. When she found you, you were already on the brink of death. Only due to her passionate and long-term care, you learned how to walk again, learned how to fight again.

“Sorry”, you mumble, allowing yourself to rest for a moment against her strong shoulder.

“(y/n), I’m sorry to interrupt you like this but…We spotted members of the survey corps?”

“The survey corps?”, you repeat in sheer disbelief.

Rage starts flooding your veins in an instant, forcing you to pick up your blade again. If there’s one thing you will never forgive the survey corps for, it’s the fact that they left you standing in the rain. The countless people who died with the wings of faith embroidered onto their jackets, eaten alive by a titan while your desperate cries for help remained unanswered until this day. For Erwin Smith, you were nothing but canon fodder, nothing but a bait. And you will forever hate him over the fact that he is partly responsible for the death of Isabel, Farlan and Levi.

You storm in the direction your scout sighted them, jumping from tree to tree in order to catch them by surprise. You will definitely not tolerate survey corps members around your area, especially when you just caught an abnormal titan to study and torture.

“There they are.”

Their disgusting green cloaks fill you with thick anger, almost force you onto the ground to knock every single one of them out. But you know all too well this isn’t the way to go. No, you will wait here until the right time comes to throw yourself at their captain.

There are five of them, walking towards the direction of your village. Just wait a few more seconds until the one who walks ahead is underneath you, one second and you…

You lunge yourself at the person with full speed, forcing them to the ground. Him, to be exact. That firm chest exposes all too urgently that you just attacked a man.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, brat?”, he barks at you, rough hands grabbing your wrists so tightly that your bones threaten to shatter.

You aren’t able to defend yourself, though.

That voice, the way he called you brat.

Is it really possible that…

You allow your eyes to look up at him and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

“Levi.”

You breathe his name out like a prayer, as if your dream might become reality. These grey and unbothered eyes look just like you remember his, the dark hair framing his face oh so perfectly.

“Levi, is that you?”

He can’t comprehend his feelings. Just a second ago, he was under attack of a stranger. But your eyes aren’t foreign. They hold the spark he dreams of each and every night, the memory he cares about so deeply. Is it really possible, that…

“(y/n).”

Everyone was so sure that you died on the battlefield, that the titan must have eaten you alive without leaving any remains. But maybe there was nothing to remain. Maybe you actually did manage to survive. Is it possible? Is this really you?

“I thought you died.”

Your voice is nothing but a fade away whisper, tears streaming down your usual so composed face like rivers when your memories begin to crash down on you like a house of cards. All those years, you were convinced Levi lost his life on this battlefield as well, that you were the only one remaining. But now you’re sitting on top of him, taking in his clean scent while he glares at you the way he used to.

“Everyone tried to convince me that that fucking abnormal ate you back then, that there is no chance you survived. Now look at you, dumbass”, he breathes out, very own eyes now coated in a thin layer of glimmering tears.

There is no time to waste. With a swift motion, you lunge yourself at him again, wrap your arms around his strong torso as if your life depends on it while resting your head against his chest and crying your heart out.

Words will always fail to express how much you missed him, that you thought about him each and every night since the day he was taken away from you so roughly. But now, you will never let him go again. Now you won’t waste another opportunity to tell him how you really feel.

“I love you, Levi. I loved you since our days in the underground city, I loved you through all these horrible years of grief. I love you. I love you”, you finally blurt out.

“I love you too, (y/n). I always did.”

Gently, he rests his hand against your nape while lifting your chin up with the other.

The second your lips meet, your world feels complete for the first time. All the pain, the grief, the things you had to endure. The countless nights of imagining him right by your side, the thought of never seeing him again. And now he’s here, right in your arms while kissing you so passionately that you fail to breathe.

“I love you”, he repeats so softly that your heart melts away like butter.

“I love you…”

“I finally found my sun again”, you smile against his lips.

You snuggle yourself onto him even tighter, your grip around his torso firm. Oh, you will definitely never let this man go again. Not after it took both of you so many years to meet again, not when he’s all you ever wanted.

Levi Ackerman, the love of your life.

“Who’s that woman throwing herself at you from a tree and then getting a smooch from you?”

“Shut up, shitty four-eyes”, Levi barks at the person standing behind him.

Tags:

@hellkaiserinphoenix @chilichopsticks @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain (hope you noticed I actually named reader's bestie after you babe) @polarbvnny @kentocalls @kayleegomez

First divider by wonderful @cafekitsune - check out the banner I used here!

Second one as usual from the best @saradika-graphics - I worship the ground you walk on honey

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cinnamontoastcrunch-15 · 2 months ago

Text

I've decided to kick off October with something happy because... Well, we all know where this month's going.

Remus settles into the commentator's chair awkwardly, watching everyone file into the stands, ready for the Quidditch match ahead.

Honestly? He'd completely forgotten that Professor McGonnagal had told him that, after a particularly... harsh prank, he would be the alternate commentator. It hasn't really been an issue, but of course Lockhart had to get fucking dragonpox. The twat probably won't stop talking about how he clawed his way back from death when he's back, but for now? Remus is stuck trying vaguely to remember something from all of the times Sirius and James have rambled to him about Quidditch.

The pit of dread in his stomach tells him that this is going to be a disaster. Minerva's managed to long con him into it. He was quite comfortable in his false sense of security, really.

"Mr Lupin?" Professor McGonnagal prompts quickly.

"Oh, right, er..." he glances down at his sparse notes, voice being carried across the entire pitch. "Hi. Today's Gryffindor vs... Ravenclaw?" He looks to Minerva, a little helplessly, but she just nods. "Okay, great. They're, er..." He tries to remind himself of what he needs to do, glancing back down at his parchment.

Introduce the players.

"James Potter's leading the Gryffindors," he sounds less sure than he ever has, even though he knows this part. He can practically see Sirius laughing his arse off from the pitch. "With beaters Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon, seeker, er..." Merlin, he's heard the name countless times! What's his bloody name? "Fenwick? No, you're the Keeper, shit. Sorry!" He turns and shrugs at Minerva, after hearing her suck in a harsh breath.

This is the worst day of his life.

He fumbles through the rest of the introductions, likely offending the entire Ravenclaw team. It gets a little easier once they're in the air. All he has to do is say who's doing what, and that's surprisingly clear. He only has one real issue.

He can't take his eyes off Sirius.

As much as he's keeping a vague running commentary of the game, his eyes flick back to Sirius involuntarily. Usually it isn't an issue. He's never actually needed to watch anyone else before, he could just watch Sirius move agilely around, darting between people, the muscles in his arm flexing every time he swings the bat...

Shit, he's drifting!

He can't help himself, but he must be doing a decent enough job. Minerva isn't intervening, anyway. Realistically, as long as people know who scores, he's doing fine. So fine, in fact, that he finds himself zoning out. He's just... commenting, practically forgetting that there's a microphone in front of him.

"Wilkes bats the bludger and... Sirius dodges! Bloody brilliant!" He hears a quiet murmur of 'language' come from Minerva behind him, but he's already getting distracted. "That was a good dodge, with the weaving. Merlin, he looks hot on that broom." The words reverberate loudly across for everyone to hear. He snaps out of it the moment the words escape him.

Oh, God.

What the fuck did he just say?!

A few people come to a brief halt in mid air, confused. Remus clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter as his entire face burns bright red. He's stuck up in the commentator stand, eyes on him, accidentally loudly proclaiming that he finds his best mate attractive.

Sometimes he really bloody hates himself.

For a moment, Remus stares at his notes like he can get them to finish commentating the match for him. James shouts something, and Remus can hear the game resuming. He risks looking across the pitch, eyes immediately landing on Sirius. He's stopped moving entirely. The rest of the players have shaken off Remus' strange comment, focusing on winning. The game moves around Sirius for a moment. Remus isn't sure how much time passes, because Sirius' eyes are on him. Realistically, he knows he needs to keep commenting, but the words just won't come.

Just like that, Sirius breaks the weird air they were both stuck in, springing into action. He's flying scarily quickly, and it's only when he's a few meters away that Remus registers Sirius flying straight at him. He grinds to a halt right in front of him, just beside the mic stand, still on his broom.

"Sirius, what-"

He doesn't have a chance to say anything else before Sirius leans in and kisses him.

Oh.

Remus feels Sirius' hand reach up to his cheek, and he almost involuntarily follows it with his own hand. The kiss is... Merlin, it's everything he's ever imagined and more. Sirius' lips are soft, gently searching, and eager. He pulls Remus' entire focus with one move, and God, Remus could do this forever-

"Mr Black! Mr Lupin! We're in the middle of a Quidditch match!" Professor McGonnagal's voice, sternness with just a hint of amusement, breaks them apart. Remus can promptly feel his face turning red again, muttering the Professor and apology.

"Right you are, Professor, sorry!" Sirius calls, voice caught and projected out by the microphone. "We've got a game to win!" He pulls Remus in quickly, connecting their lips for one more, brief, moment.

Just like that, he's back out there, playing just as elegantly as before, leaving Remus dizzy. He can see the grin on Sirius' face as he darts between the Ravenclaws, and he shakes his head fondly at him. Then, he looks back down at his notes. He's still halfway through his punishment.

"Okay, er... Where were we?"

#this idea literally popped into my head in the middle of class #i have been WAITING to be able to write it #wolfstar #sirius black #wolfstar oneshot #marauders #remus lupin #remus x sirius #young marauders #moony x padfoot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot

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kiiwiigii · 1 year ago

Text

The Red-Eyed Boy pt. i

Pt. Two | Three | Outtake

Alec x Swan!Fem!Reader

Summary: When Edward goes to the Volturi seeking death he accidentally exposes Bella's sister. Not taking any chances Alec is sent to finish you.

Warnings:

I haven't written ff in forever soooo...

Also I have trouble with the whole Y/N thing.

Language

Kinda, sorta NSFW I guess? Lot's of kissing.

Word Count: 1,938

A/N: Alec is aged up.

Aro let his mouth twist into a cruel smirk. Apparently, the Swan girl was dead, a sad waste of possible talent he lamented silently, but what was done was done. Edward had had no intention of turning her anyway, so what did it matter?

However, there had been another problem that Edward hadn't meant to expose.

Her sister.

"NO!" Edward shouted. "No! No, she's not aware. She doesn't know-"

"Now, now Edward. We cannot take chances, you know this. The girl already has her suspicions."

Edward's face crumpled into a half snarl. Going to the Volturi for your own death was one thing, but not only had he been denied this sweet relief, he had sentenced another to death. Surely he could get them to understand that Y/N was completely in the dark. Sure she had suspicions but that was just it. Suspicions. And aside from a few shopping trips with Alice (in which Alice had to practically drag Y/N out of the house in an attempt to get to know her better) she had stayed relatively far away. What Bella should have done, he thought with a cringe.

"Alec." Aro called over his shoulder.

Alec was at his master's side in less than a second, staring blankly ahead and awaiting orders.

"You are to head the Swan household in Forks. Take care of Bella's sister."

"Of course Master."

Alec gave a bow before sharing a look with his own sister and heading out of the throne room; Edward's renewed attempt at talking Aro into sparing the other Swan girl's life fading away ever so slightly. He couldn't help but smirk. Fresh blood that didn't have to be delivered. A chance to hunt. Maybe he would play with his food before he finished her off. Make her run. Make her beg. Or perhaps... a different kind of begging. A begging brought on with kisses and meaningless words whispered in her ear. His smirk twisted into a smile. There were always different ways to play, right?

Dad,

I'm with Alice. Edward's in trouble. You can ground me when I get back. I know it's a bad time. So sorry. Love you so much.

Bella

"You gotta be fucking kidding me."

With a groan I let the letter slip from my fingers and back to its original place on the kitchen counter. I knew Bella was still healing, but never in my wildest dreams did I picture her dropping everything and just taking off for the boy who dumped her.

I paused, leaning against the counter with my head in my hands, wondering if I should just go ahead and call dad or wait to break the news to him when he got home. On the one hand if I called him now, it would distract him from his job... however if I didn't tell him now and he finds out I knew before he got home, I could possibly land myself in hot water and get grounded myself. And oh boy was Bella going to get grounded. Probably for the rest of the year if not her life.

She probably figured I'd find the letter first and would butter dad up anyways. Soften the blow that his eldest daughter went missing with a barely half-assed explanation. Well, she would be wrong about the latter at least. She'd be dealing with dad by herself on that one. As much as I loved her, I didn't want to be mixed up in her shenanigans.

Mind made up, I picked up my cell to make the dreaded call, and as expected dad picked up on the first ring.

"Uh, hey dad..."

I'm dreaming of him again. The boy with the red eyes.

He was standing in front of a familiar house, just watching. Waiting. I could see it in his eyes as they flicked back and forth. He was contemplating something, his head tilting just slightly as he took in the sloping roof and the off-white siding that was in severe need of cleaning. A truck and police car rested in its driveway, silent and empty.

My heart leapt. Why was he in front of my house? I'd dreamt of this boy plenty of times before, but never had he been in my own yard. Or anywhere I was even familiar with.

Instead, he was usually shrouded by a fine black mist. Sometimes, if I was lucky enough, he would simply be doing something rather mundane, like reading a book or walking in a garden. Other times my dreams would be rather violent, and I could hear the screaming of his victims as he ripped them to shreds. Then there was the girl that usually stood by his side. If the boy was violent, she was easily a hundred times worse. It was like watching a horror movie come to life and I couldn't close my eyes. I found that I didn't want to close my eyes. He was fascinating to me.

Or maybe it's because I'm a weird and sick individual.

He circled around to the back of the house now, his eyes trailing upwards until they landed on the second-floor window, a smirk beginning to curl on his lips.

My window.

I woke up with a gasp, clutching at my sheets.

What the fuck?

My imagination was finally getting away from me.

I couldn't help but look towards my window, still tightly shut and locked, only the soft glow of fairy lights winking back at me. Untangling myself from my sheets, I slipped from my bed and plodded over to the window. Nothing's out there, I thought. It's a stupid dream. They've all been stupid dreams. The red-eyed boy doesn't exist, Y/N. I unlocked the window and pushed it upwards before sticking my head out and looking around. Of course, I couldn't see worth shit but I squinted my eyes anyway, you know, just in case it would help me see better.

The yard was dark and empty. No handsome, red-eyed boys anywhere to be found.

I almost breathed a sigh of relief before a loud jingle broke through the silence, causing me to jump and slam my head into the window.

"Fuck." I hissed, cradling the spot that I could now feel a nice bruise forming.

It took me a moment to realize that the jingle was coming from my phone. Scrambling towards my dresser I managed to trip on the sheets I'd thrown off just minutes ago and go crashing to the floor. Tonight was just not my night. Despite my new entanglement, I reached up and managed to grab my phone, flipping it open without looking at the caller ID.

"Y/N? Y/N?" The voice on the other end was frantic.

Bella. I finally let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding, the tension easing from my shoulders for the first time in days.

"Who else would it be?"

Despite my irritation and anger from her stunt I couldn't help but crack a grin as relief flooded through me. She was safe. I could already feel the hysterical laughter bubbling up. But that was quickly quashed as a new voice spoke from behind me.

"You're just as clumsy as your dear sister."

I whirled around and promptly dropped the phone as my eyes took in the dark figure standing at my feet. He was beautiful. Sinfully so. Dressed in all black, his pale skin stood out all the more. Agonizingly perfect and flawless, with dark hair sweeping across his forehead. And his eyes. Oh those eyes. My dreams didn't do them justice. Didn't do any piece of him justice.

"You." I breathed; eyes wide.

He suddenly tensed as our eyes met.

"You." He repeated.

Before I could blink, he was right before me, a gloved hand cradling my face. My mind was going haywire, trying to comprehend just what was happening. What was this pull I was feeling? What is this warmth? Did he feel it too?

"Your eyes." I whispered.

He arched a brow in amusement. "What of them?"

"They're beautiful. Like- like rubies." I stuttered quietly, feeling myself flush. "Am- am I dreaming again?"

Now both brows shot up. He probably thought I was crazy. And at this point he would be right. The boy that I had literally been dreaming about since I was a child was right in front of me.

"Y/N!"

The faraway crackle of my phone pulled me back to reality and I slowly picked it up, watching the boy in front of me. He made no move to stop me, only brushing a cool thumb across my cheek.

Wait, when had he lost the glove?

"I- I'm here."

"Did you hear anything I said?"

It was Alice Cullen

"Er- no."

"Listen," Alice began hurriedly. "I know this a lot to take in, but Alec isn't going to hurt you. It's- mates are a complicated thing in the vampire world."

"I'm sorry, what now?" I blinked rapidly as I tried to process what she was saying.

There was a low growl before I felt the phone being taken from my hands gently. I would be lying if that growl hadn't sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

"Cullen. Given your talent I think you would know that Y/N is perfectly safe with me." He leaned in as he tilted my head back, his nose running along my neck. "She is my mate after all."

My breath hitched at not only his words but the little nips and licks he began to trail along my neck, cool against my flushed skin. Oh gods, this could not be legal.

"Please inform Aro that Bella's sister will be coming to stay with us soon."

With a click he snapped the phone shut and molded his lips mine. I was pretty sure that my heart was about to beat out of my chest. Finally, he let me come back up for air with a small nibble on my bottom lip and burying his face back into my neck, his hands running down my sides in a slow caress.

"So- so you're Alec?"

He let out an actual purr at the sound of his name. "Say it again."

"You know people usually introduce themselves before making out right?"

There was a growl in response, and I almost let out a moan. Oh fuck, please stop doing that. It was doing weird things to my body.

"Alec."

He lifted himself up to look at me again, eyes no longer that beautiful ruby red but nearly pitch black. He kissed me again and again, swiping his tongue along my lower lip before delving into my mouth with a hunger that shot heat straight between my legs. This time I moaned. He chuckled as he pulled away, placing light kisses along my jaw until he reached my ear and nibbling yet again. Lord did this boy like to nibble.

"I will be back, mio cara."

Suddenly he disappeared just as my door opened and my dad stood there looking rather alarmed. I just blinked at him in a daze.

"I heard voices." He grumbled, looking for all the world like he had just rolled out of bed... which he had.

I felt my face heat back up, trying to figure out exactly what he had heard and trying to come up with an excuse.

"Uhm. I heard from Bella!"

For once my sister saved the day.

{Masterlist}

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#alec volturi x reader #alec volturi #volturi #twilight #fanfiction #reader insert #x reader

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cosmicdahlias · 24 days ago

Text

A Master and an Apprentice

Obi-Wan x Reader

MINORS DNI

After the death of your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi has been appointed to take her place. Between his constant criticisms and your secret crush for him, your feelings are incredibly conflicted.

tags: mild age gap, teacher/student relationship, oral, p in v, light mdom/fsub, praise kink, creampie

raaaaaah, i finally wrote an obi wan x reader fic!!! this man was my literal first crush, i wasn’t even in middle school when i realized i liked him that way. i love tpm obi and his mullet era in aotc, but rots is like his peak look. Do not argue with me on this he looked so damn FOIIIIIIIINE!!! 😩🙏

You sat crosslegged in the meditation chamber with your recently appointed master, eyes closed. You were a Jedi apprentice, a few years into adulthood. Your previous master had died before your eyes at the hands of Count Dooku. Despite the Jedi code’s strict forbidding of attachment, you took her death extremely hard, suffering in silence. You were too afraid to let anyone know you were struggling, especially the Council. To admit your grief was to forsake your way of life.

You were assigned a new master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. At your age it felt like an insult not only to you, but to the memory of your departed master. You knew you were more than ready for the trials, but the Council insisted otherwise. What made it worse was that Obi-Wan’s former padawan, Anakin Skywalker, had completed the trials and ascended to knighthood at a younger age than you were now. Granted he was the chosen one, but regardless you still felt your pride wounded.

It wasn’t solely because of this that you felt contempt for your new master, you had other reasons. You hated how he never seemed to trust your judgement, how he never gave you space to do things on your own, how he never seemed satisfied with your efforts.

As much as you hated him, there was a part of you, an aggressively loud part of you, that harbored feelings for him. He was incredibly handsome, wise beyond his years, and even if he never gave you room to breathe, the way he was protective over you felt… attractive.

Your feelings only made you more frustrated with him. You already wrestled with the unacceptable sadness over the loss of your first master, so to develop such a strong attachment to him felt like he was pulling you away from the only life you had ever known.

Tensions had been rising. It seemed more and more often that you were scolded for one thing or another. You were sick of it, if he corrected you one more time you were going to lose it on him.

Obi-Wan led you with his instructions.

“Concentrate, young one, let the will of the Force flow through you. Feel its energy, the way it guides you, how it-“

“I could if you’d stop talking.” You huffed.

“Now, there’s no need to be difficult. If you would heed my instructions you would find this to be far less arduous. Focus.”

“Are you insinuating that I don’t know what I’m doing?” You questioned, fully offended.

“I have said no such thing, you’re obviously distracted and I’m simply suggesting that you could give a little effort for once.“

You stood. You had no clue why something as small as this got to you, perhaps it was just the final drop in weeks of criticism to make your cup run over, but something in you snapped.

“You really don’t think I’m capable, do you? Everything I do, that I’ve ever done, it’s never good enough for you. I will NEVER be good enough for you!” You shouted.

Every single ounce of held back emotion came forth in the form of tears. You turned away, unsuccessfully attempting to hide that you had broken. Obi-Wan rose to his feet and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize how hard I’ve been pushing you. I only want what’s best for you. I see your potential and I know you have so much more to offer than you let show. You’re extraordinarily intelligent, quick witted, virtuous, and you’re incredibly beauti-“

He stopped, realizing immediately that he had said too much and gotten ahead of himself. You turned to face him.

“I’m what?”

His cheeks became dusted with a slight pink. He took a deep breath.

“There’s no sense in hiding it. I find you astonishingly attractive. Everything about you draws me in, almost as if by the will of the Force. By day my thoughts are occupied with you and by night I see you in my dreams, shameful, lust filled dreams. If the Council ever knew how I felt about you, I fear they would never let me be in your presence again. It’s so wrong, thinking of my own padawan this way. I’ve tried to bury my feelings, but cannot live this lie any longer. Not at least without telling you how I truly feel.”

You put a hand to his chest.

“Obi-Wan… I feel the same way. It’s frustrating and confusing, but I-“

He cut you off, kissing you passionately. He cupped your cheek with one hand, the other finding the small of your back and pulling you closer. You tangled your fingers in his hair. He sat on the meditation seat and pulled you onto his lap to straddle him, you felt him grow hard against you.

“You don’t know how intensely I’ve longed for you, the things I’ve done to myself at just the thought of you.” He whispered.

His hands slipped your robes off of you, exposing your breasts. He kissed you and you pulled back.

“Wait, no. What if someone comes in and sees us like this?”

“No one is to be in here for another hour. Relax, let yourself enjoy this.” He said, leaning down to pepper kisses to your breasts.

He slid your trousers off your legs. His hands moved between your thighs, stroking your clit.

“How does that feel?” He asked.

“Mmmnn, incredible.” You whimpered.

“Good girl.” He purred.

Ohhhhhh sweet Maker, you were going to savor his voice saying those words forever.

Obi-Wan laid back and pulled you up to straddle his face. His hot breath lingered on you for a moment before he took your clit in his mouth. The pleasure was indescribable, he knew exactly what he was doing.

In your teens you had a habit of sneaking out of your dormitory to meet with a boy who lived in the city. It was no more than a fling fueled by hormones and curiosity. Obi-Wan was leagues more experienced than him it seemed, which normally would make sense at his age, but given his status as a Jedi master this left you with more than a few questions.

“H- how are you so good at this when you’re supposed to be sworn to celibacy?” You moaned.

“There are things about me even the Council is not privy to.”

His tongue worked your clit at a steady rhythm.

“Your taste- oh stars- your taste is incredible.” He moaned against you.

You rocked your hips, you were edging closer to orgasm. Obi-wan could sense it.

“Getting close, are we?”

“Mhm.” You whimpered, too wrapped up in pleasure to form a single coherent word.

Your breathing became heavy and you moaned loudly, coming undone on him. You panted, shaking as your orgasm ran through you in waves. He pulled you off of him, moving you back down to his lap as he sat up. His beard was dripping with your cum. You ran your tongue along the whiskers on his chin before kissing him, tasting yourself on his tongue.

You sank to the floor in front of him, he watched you intently. You pulled out his long, thick cock from his trousers. He throbbed in your hand. You licked him from the base of his shaft to the head and he shuddered in pleasure. You took him past your lips, stroking what you couldn’t manage to take your mouth.

“In the name of- where did you ever learn to do such a thing?”

“You’re one to talk, master ‘there are things about me even the Council is not privy to’ Kenobi.”

He laughed. “Fair enough, princess.”

You moved your mouth up and down his length, running along his shaft with your warm tongue and swirling it whenever you made your way up to the head. You continually pumped his shaft through all of this. Obi-Wan kept a hand on your head, fingers in your hair.

“Ah, if you keep doing that you’ll make me-“

You moved your mouth faster, your hand matching in speed. Obi-Wan gently pulled your head back by your hair.

“N- no, stop. As much as I love this, I need to be inside of you. Please, y/n.”

“Of course, my master.” You cooed.

You rose and straddled him, positioning yourself over his cock. Obi-Wan held the back of your head, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Take it slow, don’t overwhelm yourself.” He instructed.

“Do you doubt my ability, master?” You whispered in his ear.

You sunk yourself onto him at a purposefully fast pace. You winced and failed to stifle a sharp breath as every inch of him stretched you wide.

He chuckled. “And this is what happens when you don’t follow my instructions.”

“How dare you try to lecture me right now.”

“Perhaps my cock inside you will give you the proper motivation to- nngh- listen for once.” He said as you began to lift and drop your hips.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against him, kissing you passionately. He bucked himself up into you. He dipped his head down to your neck, sucking the soft skin and scraping it with his teeth.

“I must know, my sweet girl, have you dreamt of this as I have?”

“Y- yes, master. There were nights I spent with my hand between my thighs, cumming with your name escaping my lips.”

He kissed you.

“Stars, what I would do to witness that.”

He picked you up by your thighs, setting you on your back on the cushioned seat. He hovered over you, hooking your legs over his shoulders and pinning your wrists above your head.

“I’m sorry my young padawan, but I cannot resist. I’m going to fuck you until you see stars.”

He thrusted himself inside you and fucked you at an intense, aggressive pace. For someone as prim and proper as he, seeing this side of him almost felt strange, but incredibly arousing. You knew that he must have trusted you a great deal to reveal this part of himself to you. You had never been fucked this hard before, you loved it. You tilted your head back, moaning loudly.

“Do you like this?” He asked.

“Yes, my master. Don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” You begged.

“That’s my good girl.”

His words made you tighten around him with a whimper. He cocked an eyebrow and gave a smirk.

“Hmm, I believe I may have found a way to keep you engaged in your training. If I were to offer my praise, tell you how much of a good girl you are, would that make you finally listen to me?” He asked, still thrusting at the same speed.

You nodded fervently.

“I need to hear your words.” He commanded.

“Y- yes, master.” You moaned.

“Now, that’s better. It’s refreshing to see you so obedient for once, had I known all it took was fucking you like this I would’ve done so sooner.”

You bucked yourself back against him in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Such a good girl, you’re taking me so well.”

His breathing began to hitch. He released your wrists and moved his hands to your hips, his pacing increased.

“I’m close sweet girl, where do you want it?”

“I- inside me, p- please.” You begged.

“Then tell me. Tell me just how much you want me to cum inside you.”

He moved himself even faster, purposefully overwhelming you.

“I- I c-can’t, fe-els too- hhhnn- good.”

He chuckled. “Just moan louder for me then, my dear.”

Up until now you had been doing your best to control your volume to some extent, but you couldn’t refuse your master’s commands. You moaned his name obscenely loud, you didn’t care if the whole Council heard.

His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you against him, burying his full length deep inside you as he came. His cock pulsed with every rope he shot into you, you felt its warmth flood your insides.

Obi-Wan pulled out and stood over you, watching as his cum slowly dripped out of you.

“Look at you, absolutely beautiful being claimed by me like this.”

He gave you time to breathe before helping you to stand, your legs shook.

“Now, get dressed and let’s continue our meditation.”

After finishing the meditation Obi-Wan pulled you onto his lap once again, his lips finding yours.

“I think you could still do with further instruction. Tonight, why don’t you visit me in my quarters for a lesson of… similar nature.” He whispered between kisses.

“Yes, master.”

You heard the door suddenly slide open, quickly breaking away and attempting to scramble off of Obi-Wan as you were greeted with your master’s former padawan.

“Master, great news, General Grievous has been spo-“

He paused, the sight of you halfway on your master’s lap and both his and your disheveled hair finally registering. You slid the rest of the way off Obi-Wan.

“What uh… what were you two-“

“Meditation.” You both said, trying to act as casual as possible.

Anakin gave a knowing smirk.

“Seems like some mediation. Sorry to interrupt, my news can wait.” He said, turning to leave.

“Now hold on just a moment, Anakin. It’s not what you think.” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin laughed. “Don’t worry master, your secret is safe with me. I think this makes us even now.”

You had no idea what he meant by that last part, but at the very least it seemed like his lips were sealed.

#obi wan #obi wan kenobi #obiwan fanfic #obi wan x reader #obi wan smut #star wars #star wars prequels #my fics

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red-doll-face · 14 days ago

Text

Snow Angel

Chapter 1: elation >chapter two >>chapter three

low to medium honor Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

Arthur has been living by himself, laying low (for real this time) somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. After the whole Pinkerton and Micah debacle, he has been hiding away, waiting for it all to blow over, occasionally getting letters from the people who still know that he's alive. He's been alone awhile and at first, he thought he could handle a little loneliness. He has been wrong before. Lucky for him, you look like the perfect thing to break up the monotony.

Warnings: dubious consent, low honor Arthur, smut, naive reader

WC: 2481

Hi, I’m unwell about him and I needed to post this bc I need people to talk to about it and I probably also need help lmao also may be a bit ooc. New to posting here 😳😖😵‍💫

Tags: innocence kink, size kink, vaginal and oral sex, no TB thank god. Arthur is sweet still but has mean tendencies obviously

Arthur’s new visitor has him hot under the collar.

The snow up here is about to overtake Lucky, the loyal Clydesdale you had known since you were a girl. His legs amble forward, winds whipping his mane and tail about. Hunkering over him; gripping his reins for dear life, you try to urge him further. Your throat is tight with nerves and of course the impending reality that Lucky has been slowing down. That the weather has only been getting worse since you started riding out. The last thing isn’t worth mentioning.

As if he could hear you over the blizzard winds, you clutch tight to his reins.

“Please Lucky, you can do it, boy. You can’t leave me here,”

His hooves trudge through the snow, his big legs managing to stay above the snow fall. He falters a bit here and there, more often as you go on. Grunting and shaking at his tack. You pat along his strong neck. The cold turns the moisture in the air to ice, the heat in his breath disappearing.

“I’m sorry, Lucky…” Shuffling onward, leading him on. Frost gathers over your coat and you would think the landscape beautiful if not for the lethality of it all. You’re not sure if people are meant to survive in places like this. With nose numb and fingers creaky in your thick gloves, you know you have to stop. Scanning the horizon for anything resembling a shelter, imagining yourself curled up in Lucky’s side, you can see the soft glow from a cabin a ways down the road. The only vestige of humanity you had seen for miles on what feels like the edge of the world. Windows glow with the tell tale orange of a warm fireplace. Your foot nudges into Lucky’s side for your last push, your last chance.

“Go!” you slap the reins on his neck, working him up to a trot. You approach and see what looks to be some sort of barn. It’s a small stable, a nice place to put a horse or two, maybe a dairy cow. Another horse lazily sleeps, fresh hay for his bedding. At your entrance, he perks up but stares oddly, easing back. Lucky knickers and snorts, just happy to be inside, you think.

“I’ll be back, hopefully not too soon…” You leave him there while he starts mooching the hay laid out for his new roommate. You pat his flank and watch the ice melt from his lashes.

Braced for the cold, arms crossed over your chest, you pull your legs forward through the snow outside. It’s a fight to get through the piles of snow, clouding around your lower thighs. Finally, you're on the wooden steps of the porch, which creak a bit underneath your feet. Panting, you meekly pat on the door.

“Please, I need help,” you shout, trying to speak over the blizzard. “Is anyone there?” You can hear the crackling fire, feeling like it’s warming you already. Heavy steps come to the door.

“Who’s out there?” A gruff masculine voice answers your call. It grates over your nerves, though if you weren’t alone you might have found it to be soothing. With any luck, he’s the father of a nice family whose heart would be softened by a lone young woman near frozen to death on his front door.

“Please, sir. I promise it’s just me,” your pleading seems to have done the trick and the man opens the door. Finally hitting you with a heat you had almost forgotten. He moves to the side after sizing you up. Hesitating even for a second causes him to dip his head to direct you inside. Forcing your stiff legs to lift. He takes a moment to analyze the gap you left behind. Carefully, he shuts the door and pulls the curtain closed. Maybe he had been robbed before? Lonely homesteads were easy and preferable targets for bandits. Typically neighbors were miles away, if you had any neighbors to speak of or to.

You get a better look at him, tall and strong, chest the size of a barrel. The sleeves of his plain white shirt are rolled up and the top two buttons are undone. Leather suspenders keep his deep brown trousers up. He stands as if unsure what to do with his body besides intimidate you with it, showing not an ounce of uncertainty on his face.

There is no one else here and if there is, they’re in the other rooms of his quiet and moderate home. The house smells of coffee, a disarming smell. Salt pork and boiled potatoes too. Certainly provisions that could last through this harsh winter.

“What the hell were you doin’ out there?” His tone is accusatory and judgemental. He must think you an idiot to be traveling in this weather and maybe he wasn’t all wrong. Instead of talking, your jaw clicks your teeth together. The hard look he gives you melts away and he helps you out of your coat. He's almost surprised to see you, eyes stuck on every piece of you revealed to him. Snowflakes and icy debris are shed from you and you sigh. You try your best to get your natural reactions to stop but they insist on ceasing on their own. The man huffs, stepping towards the percolator on the stove. You watch on, feeling strange that he hasn’t really invited you to sit or do much of anything else.

“You mute, girl? Asked you a question.” he takes a seat by the fire in a big chair seemingly made just for him. He sets down the coffee before taking a match and striking it, lighting the end of a cigarette he retrieved from the table. The coffee steams gently and you take it; seeing as you're very sure he had made it for you. Jerkily, you move to sit as he sets his eyes on you. The couch is soft and warm, homely with a pretty blanket, thick and colorful patterns. While his gaze seems easy and relaxed, he watches you like a hawk.

“No, I… was getting something for my granny. She’s not feeling too good. Ma sent me to get something for her. The doctor, I suppose. Didn’t make it too far,”

He exhales. The smallest noise of amusement.

“I can imagine,” You take a sip of the coffee. Warm and sweet smelling. “What kinda mother sends a pretty thing like you on a fool's errand? You really thought you was gonna bring your ol’ granny a doctor in this?” You stare, feeling a bit like a child being scolded by this man.

“Oh well, I-”

“Your granny probably already kicked the bucket while you were out here, damn near gettin’ yourself killed. If it weren’t for me, well…” scratching at the darker scruff that grows on his face. His hair is that same light brown, almost blond. He sucks the smoke out of the slim roll of paper. It's bitter and acrid, a contrast to the warm smoky fireplace. Your brows furrow. Deciding to change the subject before you say something out of turn, you take another sip out of the enameled cup he had given you. The smoke he inhaled releases in a cloud around his features, obscuring the knowing smile he wears.

“I’m sorry mister, but I don't think you gave me your name…” He ashes his cigarette, tossing his legs up on the table in the center of the room. The weight of him and his leather boots don’t rattle the table, he’s careful with himself.

“Arthur. You married?” His gaze is as hot and red as the cherry burning on the end of his cigarette. You almost start to feel uncomfortable. If there weren't a blizzard outside, you might consider walking out. He hadn’t even given you a chance to say your name. Your nervous look only seems to enthrall him more. You only now notice he’s looking at your hands but thick gloves still encase your fingers.

“No, I'm afraid not,” You contemplate telling him a lie but think about when you might have to remove your gloves. You’d rather not get caught in a fib. Though perhaps his rather brusque flirting might have come to an end should you have warned him of a man who would be looking after you. Being out here by yourself seems to have him convinced that no one truly was looking after you anyway.

“Young lady like you, unwed and caring for your Ma, Pa, all by yourself? Now that’s just sad, is what it is,” The butt of his cigarette meets its end in the ashtray on the table. Your face tweaks into a small nervy smile, nodding. “You are… a sight, for an old ugly bastard like me is all,” Your fingers start to twiddle, feeling your face warm, maybe because of the flames licking at the logs on the hearth. He’s certainly not the ugliest man you’ve ever seen nor the oldest, you frown at such an oddly self deprecating comment. You’re surprised he doesn’t already have a wife and several children running around, reading stories by the fireplace that you sit in front of. You revert back to old tactics.

“I left my horse in the stable out front, I hope you don’t mind too much,”

“Ain’t no trouble,” His hands seem to itch to be doing something, he also seems to twiddle his fingers. One hand propped over the arm of his chair.

“Why don’t I get you somethin’ dry to wear? Should be turnin’ in soon. Gettin’ late.” He stands, hands on his knees and then he’s going into the next room. It gives you a chance to evaluate the room you're in. The mantle has all sorts of strange little knick knacks, the walls, plenty of… distinctive hunting trophies and supplies. Several gleaming guns in different finishes are displayed proudly. Although pretty, they don’t seem unused. If anything, well loved and worn. You’re starting to feel every bit the lamb in the wolf’s den this man is already treating you as.

He comes out of the room, holding a pair of cotton long johns in a cream color. You’re not sure why he thinks you need them but he has been nothing but hospitable if not a bit too strong on his pleasantries and very blunt. It can be lonely out here in the country, so you offer a small smile. He stares at you, even as you awkwardly side step him and go to his bedroom. You close the door and sigh, nice to just have a moment to yourself. Away from the strange man and the cold. The warm smell of fabric and the natural musk of the wood calm you, along with the faint smell of something distinctive to him. You claw and peel at the layers of your clothing, riding gear and boots. You notice how wet your clothes are from the melting ice. Perhaps he knew better than you did.

You slip into the warm cotton of what must be his long johns. They’re nice and feel almost new. Far too big for you. That man, Arthur, did seem to be quite big. Here in the quiet room, you can remember the wind, the cut of the cold air against your cheeks, hear the wind rattle the glass. You're glad to be out of all of that.

It’s a rather modest room, a bed, an armoire, a nightstand, a cabinet. Cigarettes and a few cigars, several empty bottles of bourbon. Some old faded photographs but you're not so brave as to pick them up. The room is severely lacking in the touch of a woman department, bed pushed up against the wall. The smallest mirror adorns the wall, dusty and plain. You turn to the door and see him, standing there.

You startle and put your hand to your chest.

“You scared me Mister…” no last name to utter has you confused, he had never given you one. Your smile isn’t forced but it fades a little when you see him looking at you.

“Morgan, Arthur Morgan,” he’s really giving several once overs that feel like thrice overs, drinking you in like those bottles of bourbon. Your face feels hot again. He stares at the junction between your legs, up to your chest and then finally your face. You don’t think you've ever seen a man look at you like that; not that you spend very much time around men. The type of men at the saloons in town were no good for you, or at least that’s what Ma would say.

“Put somethin’ on the stove for ya, man can’t leave no woman hungry…” he puffs up in pride a bit, you tilt your head. Hopefully he hadn’t been watching you snoop around, or even worse, changing. You nod, a small gesture.

“Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I really appreciate your kindness,” he makes space for you to exit down the small hallway. You try not to brush against him but he’s so big, fills up the sparse room between you and the wall. He drops his arm on the door frame, making you pass underneath him. Looking up at him, you can make out the color of his eyes, a pretty summer blue. His shirt and suspenders smell clean and wintry. He makes you feel minuscule, a mouse and cougar. His features; squared and rugged from weathering the elements, are set in a stony expression but there’s excitement in his eyes.

“Been a long time since somebody called me a kind man, usually it was the opposite,” he says. His hands twitch again, the one in the door is a tight fist. You know that you can’t leave. And you wouldn’t beat him should he chase, you doubt you’d even make it to Lucky. Especially now that he insisted you put on his underclothes. The temptation to be in dryer clothes has trapped you here. You flinch as his hand descends to rest on your neck and collar, rubbing. His body moves forward, taking your silence as acceptance.

“Please, I-“

“I think you need a man to take care of you, honey, need a man to keep you inside- wouldn’t let you go out alone like this if you was my woman,” his hand squeezing at your shoulder, you don’t dare to move. Broad chested, he seems to block out all of the light from the meager lamps and the fireplace.

“Lemme show you how a man looks after a girl like you,” He eases off you and guides you down the hall, your heart thumping out of your chest. Certainly not because of the romance but the claustrophobic feeling of being alone with a man such as him, big and very strong in his advances. Thankfully, not too strong. Yet, a voice in your head warns.

If you made it, thanks for reading and pls send feedback 💝😭 I have split the chapter into 2 parts because it was way too long. I will be posting a "chapter 2" but chapter 3 will be chapter 2 for people who read the long version. I was just too excited to post it and didn't think about this LMAO

#arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 x reader #low honor arthur morgan #tw dubcon #I’m insane I know #low honor arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #red writes #:v #read dead redemption 2 community #rdr2 community #tw dark fic #tw dark content #❄️ snow angel

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secret-smut-sideblog · 9 months ago

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It Will Come Back

Astarion x F! Tav

(Girl Talk part 2)

18+ implied trauma, talks of death, drinking, possessiveness, feelings developing, vulnerability, blood drinking, sub/dom, gender play, grinding, strap on use, penetration (m!), prostate orgasm, tenderness

Their shared night has been tormenting him, after staking his claim he found himself needing to be near her. And after a night of drinking, seeing her with someone else, he had to have her again...

Part 1

He was mid wipe of his bloody mouth but was now frozen on the treeline, her voice shouting out into the night.

Though he knew the Underdark would have been much easier he was grateful that she had chosen the Mountain Pass. He already was able to find plentiful wildlife.

When Halsin had insisted that going underground was the better route he saw her body go rigid. Closing her eyes briefly. Taking a steadying breath out.

"I know the Underdark, its... lethal. We're taking the high ground." Her voice uncharacteristically stern. Tone clear, this was not a discussion.

Karlach had reached out to take her shoulder in a reassuring grip and pulled back at the last second, remembering her heat. A sadness in her eyes.

Now, in the darkness of camp she was bolted upright from her trance. "No!" Hand flying to her chest. Her shout breaking the air.

He stepped forward, uncertain.

But Karlach awoke, sitting up quickly. Coming to her side, kneeling next to her as close as possible without scorching.

"You're okay, love." She reassured. "Just a bad dream."

Tav looked up at her tearfully. Hand still pressed hard to her chest. Rubbing back and forth. "Oh Gods, they're starting again."

Shaking her head, looking deep in Karlach's eyes. As if the sight of her could erase whatever she woke from.

"I get those too, soldier. Some nightmares stick. Miserable things that they are." Reaching for her arm again, pulling away frustrated. "Gods I wish I could touch you."

Tav smiled, sitting up. Leaning towards her. "I want that too. We'll catch Dammon on the way, don't worry."

"You want to talk about your dream?" Karlach asked quietly.

"Not really, but it might help." She sighed.

He suddenly felt like he was intruding, staring down at them. Though he did want to console her he was hopeless at that kind of thing.

She froze for a second, turning her head.

"Ah, what did I tell you about trying to sneak up on me?" She smiled, catching him in her peripheral.

"Apologies, I was just coming back from hunting. I'll head back to my tent, but do carry on." He quipped. Chest tight.

"Actually, I dont mind you staying." She shrugged. "Believe it or not your company is very welcome."

He really considered it, but he had been avoiding her since that night and this was far too intimate.

"I appreciate that, but I'll have to decline. Do tell me if you need any hands on help though. Goodnight, sweet things."

His tent wasn't far and he was glad of it. Moving on light feet and closing the flap behind him. Sitting with his back against the entrance.

Their voices were faint but his keen ears were sharper. Their conversation picking back up after a moment.

"Gods I really thought they had gone away. But that fucking dream visitor..." The venom in her voice surprising him.

"It looked like her. My sister." Low now, he could barely pick it up. "Whatever that thing is it isnt afraid to play dirty."

"I didn't know you had a sister." Karlach's voice soft.

"A twin. We're identical." A tired sigh. "She's dead. Has been for, Gods, at least a decade. Even in my long life I dont know if it'll ever feel real."

"I'm so sorry, love." Karlach's voice low and mournful. Moving into a whisper.

He picked at the seam of his pants, suddenly feeling guilty. Given how self assured she was he hadn't even considered that she might have a troubled past. They all had their weight to bear, it seems.

Sitting still in the morning light he felt at peace. Or as close to peace as he could manage. The sun warming him through.

He soaked it in greedily, making up for 200 years of lost time. If he was a religious man he would pray to the morning god Lathandar, but the Gods weren't worth the praise.

"Morning, Star." She yawned, passing in front of his tent.

He squinted his eyes open, something he regretted immediately.

In the morning light her long red hair glowed, out of it's crown braid falling in cascades down her back. The grey ochre of her skin picking up hues of pink and a smattering of freckles he had never noticed before across her nose. Eyes dark and light in equal measure, the subtle ring of green in the white around her pupil contrasting sharply with her red hair.

She looked like an oil painting come to life.

Realizing he was staring he cast his eyes to the treeline.

Too late, she saw. Of course she did.

She smiled, coming to sit down next to him.

"Hungry?" She asked easily, holding up her wrist. Still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

He stared at it, the soft flesh, the vein blue underneath. Her long fingers curled back elegantly.

"Before you've had your breakfast? How ravenous do you take me for?"

"Oh my heart, I am such a wilted flower I couldnt possibly stand such trials! Oh watch me wither away before your very eyes!" She held the back of her hand to her forehead, leaning back dramatically.

He smiled, despite himself. "I thought you nobility types were of a softer constitution." Taking her wrist gingerly in his fingers.

"Maybe on the surface. In the Underdark its kill or be killed. If you haven't had an assassination against you by the time you learn to walk you're considered a failure." She laughed, but he wasnt sure if she was exaggerating.

"Well I am a little peckish..." He mused.

He wasn't. He had a full meal last night. But the draw of her blood, being offered so easily. Gods she would be the second death of him.

He brushed his lips against the curve of her wrist, breathing in her scent. Apple, cayenne, vanilla. Gods he could get drunk on it.

He sank in as gentle as he could. Her blood bursting into his mouth. Trying to keep some sense of decorum as their companions milled around them. Resisting the urge to grip down and growl.

Vaguely aware of Shadowheart's disapproving sigh. "In front of my oatmeal?"

"Oh please, I know you'd want this too if you were sanguine." Tav smiled, unfazed. Sending her a sultry look.

He glanced up momentarily, seeing Shadowheart's blush at her flirting. Shooting him a quick cut with her eyes. Turning abruptly back to her bowl.

He felt a proud thrill in his chest. That's right, he was the one buried in her wrist. Suck it Shadowheart.

Tav tapped his forearm twice. "Going a little numb here, handsome."

He pulled off with a quiet gasp. "Apologies, I must have been more hungry that I realized." Lies. Lies upon lies.

Handsome, he turned that word over in his head. He wanted her to call him pretty.

Blinked in shock at his thoughts.

Gods this is why he had been avoiding her. That night had been haunting him. He had tried to push the intense pleasure she had milked out of him into the past. The way she had touched him, soft but commanding.

Her words playing on repeat in his mind in the late hours of the night.

"Such a good girl for me."

"You okay, Star?" Her voice low, squeezing his knee lightly.

He realized he hadn't released her wrist, his fingers still circled around her.

"Sorry darling, I'm a little off this morning." He leaned down and licked her wound closed.

Noticed her hand hadn't left his knee, her thumb rubbing back and forth gently. The touch lighting him, little trails of fire.

"Anything I could do to help?" Her voice going soft again.

Yes.

"No, but thank you for offering, sweet thing."

He patted her thigh good naturedly. "Now go get your breakfast. You've earned it."

"Well as long as I've earned it." She winked at him, rising gracefully to her feet. "See you later, beautiful."

Gods he wanted to kiss her. Hard.

Later in camp the mood was jovial. The day, though grueling, walking, always walking. Had turned out promising, closing in on the temple where the Creche is supposed to be.

Someone had opened a bottle of wine and the air was full of laughter and conversation.

Halsin had gotten out his lute and was strumming happily. Wyll stood and offered her his hand in a flourish. She smiled and took it graciously.

He led her in a light waltz and she followed easily, feet twisting and stepping with a practiced grace.

Astarion watched this from a fallen log and tried to hide the seethe in his face.

Why were they always all over her? Gods it felt like he turned his back and another suitor had stepped into place.

Didnt they know she was his?

He shook his head. He had too much wine. He was being ridiculous. He needed air.

Trudging away towards the water, feeling eyes on his back but he didn't care.

Kneeling down he splashed the water on his face. Get ahold of yourself.

Sitting back on his haunches he sighed, looking up at the night sky.

Her eyes slid over his vision, becoming two new stars.

"Brooding all by yourself?"

He couldn't stand it anymore, pulling her head down by the nape of her neck. Her soft mouth meeting his upside down.

She whimpered in surprise, then relaxed into him. Kissing him back in that soft exploring way he had craved.

He twisted under her, turning to face her. Pulling her down into his lap, wrapping his hand around the back of her head with a growl.

She straddled over him, already pulling at his camp shirt, taking it in a fist full. Moaning softly into his mouth. Allowing his tongue to push hot into her.

"My tent?" She whispered as she pulled away to get a breath, his mouth following, trying to get more.

He nodded, practically sprinting to feet. Taking her hand.

They took the long way around, sneaking into the warm cave of her temporary home.

Gods the air swam with her here. It was overwhelming.

She closed the flap behind them securely. Barely enough time and he was pulling at her clothes. Releasing her shirt from her leggings.

"Gods, Star. What brought this on?" She gasped as he laved his tongue up her neck. Pulling her shirt over her head and throwing it far in the corner.

"I cant stop thinking about it." He moaned, undoing the ties on her trousers with one hand. Falling to knees and yanking them down.

Looking up at her through his lashes. "Please touch me like that again."

She smiled, kneeling down to him. Gloriously naked, she reached up to the pins in her hair and released it. Falling behind her shoulders in a carmine wave. So beautiful it made his chest hurt.

He caught sight of a straight scar over her heart, ran his fingers softly over it.

She leaned forward, fingers stroking his cheek softly. Sliding her mouth against his warmly. "I've been thinking about it too."

Pulling his shirt free, angling over his shoulders. "You were so beautiful that night."

He moaned into her mouth as she came back to him. Already painfully aroused.

She pushed him back gently, trailing hot kisses along his neck. Untying his leathers with sure fingers. Pulling them down just far enough that his cock could spring free. Already dripping precum.

She leaned into him, sliding the hollow of her hip against his length. Rocking back and forth slowly. Leg straddled around his thigh he could feel her wetness. Her mouth on his neck so softly kissing and biting.

The pressure of her hip was so good. His head fell back, giving her more room to find him. Her fingers coming up to softly drag along his nipple. The pads teasing back and forth.

She began grinding down on him, her breath catching. Hip sliding harder into his cock.

"Please, more." He moaned.

She leaned back and spat a long trail of saliva on his cock. Pushing into him with her hip again. Looking deep in his eyes.

Oh Gods that almost sent him over.

She pinched and rolled his nipple in her hand. Wetting her fingers obscenely. Bringing them back down.

He whined, arching his chest. Pushing his hips up into her. So close.

"You know, I think your ready." She purred, her hands gone.

He opened his eyes to see her reaching for something. Leaving him to reach inside a chest.

She held up a harness with a faux cock attached. His eyes went wide.

Oh Gods, yes. He pulled off his leathers with haste.

He helped her get it on her hips, pulling down the buckles and straps. She wet it with the slick from her cunt, pumping down it.

"Come here to me." She whispered, sliding onto her back.

He straddled over her, heart racing.

Coming down to kiss at her chest, sliding one of her peaks into his mouth. Reveled in the little moan that left her.

She held the length steady for him as he slowly lowered down. His eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Take what you need. I want to see it." She murmured into his hair.

Sitting flush to her he felt the stretch inside him. Already so full. His body gripping down eagerly.

He began his ride, lifting his hips and rolling back down. His breath a strained gasping already. Gods it was heaven.

He looked down at her and saw how her hips rocked into him, gripping his thighs. Her face flushed, eyes half lidded.

"So lovely, taking my cock like that." She smiled. Angling her hips just hard enough to hit the spot that undid him.

He lurched forward, bracing himself next to her head. An indignant whine leaving him. He cant be this close already.

She held his hips in place and fucked up into him. His body already starting to shudder in warning. She had found his prostate again and was slamming into it over and over.

"Please, please," He mewled, for what he wasn't sure. Seeing stars already.

She craned her neck up and caught his nipple in her mouth. Suckling down viciously with a delighted hum.

His while body jolted and he screwed his eyes shut. Oh Gods he didn't know if he could take it.

His pelvis contracted like a fist, the first waves hitting him. His mouth fell open in a silent scream. A bone deep shuddering ripping through him. The waves pummeling him in tortuous rapture. He white knuckled around her thigh. It was all he could do not to cry out. His spend spilling hot onto her belly in gushes.

She pulled him into her chest with hushed assurances as he sobbed quietly. A sudden rush of emotion overcoming him. Gripping onto the back of her neck.

"You're okay, you're okay." She whispered into the curl of his hair. Her legs crossing behind his back, nuzzling down into his shoulder. "You did so good."

That made him sob harder, burying his face in her hair. Holding onto her like a life raft in a storm.

"You're safe, you're here."

Laying awake, staring at the roof of his tent his mind raced.

He could lie to himself, say it was just the wine, the long road, his hunger, that had driven him to her arms.

He was a good liar but not that good.

Sighing he turned on his side.

What a fool he was. Falling for his mark. A simple plan shattered into a million pieces at her feet.

She had entranced him body and soul.

He bit back a small smile, his dead heart racing in light and fear.

Tomorrow. He would tell her tomorrow.

Part 3

#if men weren't supposed to take it why did god give them a meow button #anyway that one anon this ones for you #astarion smut #astarion x tav

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xreaderbooks · 1 year ago

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'Til death do us part

Pair: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Y/n comforts her husband, Sirius, after having a nightmare, post-Azkaban. Based on THIS request.

Warning: nightmares

Word Count: 1.1k

Songs I listened to while writing: You Are a Memory by Message To Bears, Rescue by Lauren Daigle, Je te laisserai de mots by Patrick Watson

Sirius Black Masterlist - Navigation - Wattpad - AO3

You woke to the jostling and jerking from the body next to yours, the shouting and screaming came next, and your heart was already pounding at a high-speed rate due to the scare out of your sleep. You thought there was an attacker or that your home had been broken into. A ridiculous thought since you’ve been used to having your sleep cut short by your husband in this exact same state.

“Sirius,” You shook his shoulder gently to pry him out of his nightmare. “My love, wake up.”

He shoved your hands away as he bolted up into a sitting position, his eyes were open wide now, tears at the corners of his eyes. The normal silver was bloodshot from his crying and lack of sleep.

“Y/n?”

“Another one,” Your eyes softened at his state.

He brought his knees up to his chest, bringing them in closer with his arms hugging his legs. Your heart tore a little at the sight of how vulnerable and young he looked. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Your voice was slightly above a whisper. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He wiped the flowing tears as they came, “It’s the same thing, over and over again.”

Sirius has opened up to you about his nightmares time and time again when he was stable enough to speak about them. The feeling of his soul being sucked out of him was similar to how you feel when you dream about falling except instead of your heart jumping it was your spirit that was being pulled painfully away from your body. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t wake up from the dream as you normally could when you fall in your sleep.

His chest began to heave, his breathing quickened with shallow breaths.

“You’re okay, you are just fine,” You reached out to place a hand on his chest. “You are here, you are safe.”

Sirius began to sob with never-ending tears, “I can’t- I can’t.”

You shushed him with a small shake of your head, “It’s alright, you’re alright. You don’t have to be strong right now, let it out.”

“Can I hold you?” He asked shyly. It reminded you of your years at Hogwarts together when you first started dating, he never wanted to push your boundaries, set on proving how good of a boyfriend he can be. He wanted to be gentle for you.

“Of course,” You lay back, your head on the pillows and lifting the blankets letting the cool air hit you as he laid on top of your chest, placing them on top of him. He was fully wrapped in comfort, the top of his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, both of his arms around your middle, clutching him to you tightly.

He once compared the feeling of the dementors tearing him apart to how it would feel if you were to ever leave him. He would let you go if it was what you wanted, but that was how much it would hurt. You reassured him that you would never leave him, you were his forever.

“I’m sorry,” He repeated in a sob. You felt his body shaking atop yours, and the back of your eyes stung, but you couldn’t cry now. He needed you to be strong right now, and you would be, just as he was all those years.

It wasn't his fault he was framed, but somehow the guilt still ate away at him as if he was the one who betrayed Lily and James. What he told Harry in the Shrieking Shack when he had finally caught Peter was nothing short of the truth, he would have rather died than betray them, and yet...

12 years apart, he blamed himself for trusting Peter, for leaving you alone. He had no knowledge of whether or not you survived if you blamed him just as everyone else had. The Aurors held you back as they arrested him but he couldn't tell by the look on your face. There was too much going on.

12 years, you were married to a 'murderer'. You were now married to a wanted man, you weren't even able to go on a honeymoon. Your wedding was only two days before his arrest.

“Do not apologize to me, Sirius,” Your tone was stiff and with meaning. “I’ll repeat it as many times as I have to, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Tu es trop parfait pour moi, tu ne mérites pas d'être coincé avec moi,” He muttered into your neck.

You brushed the hair that was stuck to his skin from his sweat, both of your hands working to hold his hair into a short ponytail, you had a hair tie around your wrist and tied it to his hair to cool him down. With the back of your left hand which was freer than your right that was currently running tickles up and down his back, you checked his temperature, Sirius’ body heat was running hot. To the best of your ability, you tried tugging down the blankets on both your legs.

“English please,” You teased. You loved it when he spoke French but you couldn't help but feel that at the moment it was something you weren't meant to hear.

He unhooked one of his arms from you and grabbed a hole in your left hand, his thumb playing with the diamond on your ring. “I love you.”

“That is definitely not what you said but-” You pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I love you more, Siri."

Sirius lifted himself onto his forearms, hovering over you, his head tilted noses touching. You closed your eyes and leaned forward to kiss him but he pulled back before your lips could touch. Instead, he pecked your cheek and lay back on his own side of the bed. “Not possible.”

You went onto your side facing him, your hand holding your head up. He had his hands pressed to his eyes, you took his left hand and kissed his ring. “Hey.”

He turned his head to you, and you played with his fingers as you spoke, “I love you.”

He nodded simply, turning his head to look at the ceiling again.

“You’re never going back there, ever, I’ll fight whoever I have to.” You tried to, you were the only other person who knew who the true secret keeper was but they wouldn't hear it, especially because you had no evidence. Peter was gone, nowhere to be found.

He chuckled, “I’m sure you will, darling.”

“Til death do us part, remember?”

He fully turned his boy to you, grabbing both your cheeks in his hands, he gave you a long kiss before pulling away and leaning his forehead against yours. “‘Til death do us part.”

~~~ translation: Tu es trop parfait pour moi, tu ne mérites pas d'être coincé avec moi ; you're too perfect for me, you don't deserve to be stuck with me.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black imagines #sirius black x you #sirius x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius x y/n #sirius x you #sirius black #sirius black one shot #marauders imagine #marauders era #post azkaban sirius #nightmare #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fanfiction #fluff #hurt/comfort #sirius black fluff #sirius black/reader

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kinokoshoujoart · 7 months ago

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CORRECT TAGS‼️‼️‼️‼️ @rn0na-lizard you are so so so correct….. my favorite ‘Normal Girl’ in hmds…….i almost never see anyone talk about these aspects of her let alone also love her for them as they should.

i feel like Leona/ DS lumina gets mischaracterized super often which is understandable bc out of all the DS candidates leona is the least like her ancestor (who i also love, for different reasons).

in AWL lumina was the only kid in the valley for a very long time, but many of the DS residents have lived in the valley their whole lives. while lumina had accepted her role as a proper young heiress by chapter 3 of AWL— and when DS begins Leona already at this point of her life— lumina still had a lingering sense of uncertainty and angst and loneliness and doubt, and unresolved worries about her parents. absolutely none of this is present with leona

in this world leona starts with Lumina’s 22 year old appearance, she’s just rich as hell and living her best life (as she deserves), she’s unabashedly shallow, puts herself first always, speaks so politely and affably yet she can be so casually cruel in the most genuine cute way and out of touch with reality and and i fucking love her and i’d die for her. my beloved girlboss girlkeep girlypop

more iconic Leona Moments

when muu/muffy asks for beauty advice leona’s recommendation is “this brand of mail order beauty cream is simply divine! and it was quite inexpensive too, just 100,000 G 🥰” everyone else looks uncomfortable and muu is like “you’re as frivolous as always….”

aside from the 3 who take literally half your money (Witch💖, moi, and thomas) leona and panama (romana) take the most money from you if they carry you home when you faint. just a couple of girl bosses holding on to their girlpire (btw shout out to sebastian, the only resident in the entire valley who carries you home for free)

neither panama nor leona attend the harvest festival, they send sebastian there by himself to test the food first lmao (if you poison it like the witch they’re harboring on their property requires you to do, sebastian is just like “i can’t serve this to Mistress Panama…”)

once again sebastian attacks mukumuku for her sake, this time not to make her a paintbrush but she told him to get her the best slippers and this was apparently the easiest way. sebastian gets fucking mauled btw

leona has hands down the best romance route in hmds. all her scenes are incredible but god the slow burn friends to lovers with your DVD player….

in her purple heart event she shows up at your house because she heard you have a DVD player, asks you to show her how it works, and then just leaves after she’s done playing with it

in her yellow heart event she has sebastian fetch van so she can buy a DVD player for herself but van’s like “i’m so sorry …. Pete… bought the last one….”

leona is so unable to stomach the idea of other people having things she doesn’t that she starts to cry and the only way to placate her is to tell her she can go to your house anytime she wants just so she can use your DVD player. that’s not a setup to a budding romance that’s her final heart event

it’s the most incredible romance arc in the world like girl you have infinite money you can just. buy a DVD player somewhere else?? “i want to watch DVDs at my house just like you!” leona you have three entire bedrooms

“rich girl love interest who has everything except love, win her heart by having genuine conversation with her”: done to death, tired, i don’t have time for that

“rich girl love interest who has everything except a fucking DVD player, win her heart by giving her expensive stuff and ‘relax tea’ and access to your DVD player”: audacious, intriguing, never been done before, innovative

if you deny her god-given right to access your DVD player she is like “Is that so……………Just let me be alone for a little bit.” incredible tragedy i understand. take as much time as you need to grieve darling

oh but her first heart event asks you to pick a side in an argument she’s having with panama and the correct answer is to say “sebastian is the one who’s wrong” (sebastian has said nothing wrong this whole time and yet both of them have just been yelling at him to shut up)

and her blue heart event is “help me find this heirloom necklace… boohoo…” and when you find it she’s like “perfect! now grandma won’t get mad at me. hmm, you seem pretty dependable…♡” augh she’s way too good at this…….!!! i’ll do anything for you!

when you propose she says “of course, i always dreamed of having a romance and a wedding♡” and says nothing abt how she feels about you <3

also if you marry her, once a week she goes to hang out at her ex love interest’s place for 6 hours straight and comes home saying “whew… i had so much fun that i must have lost track of time… i’ll hurry on home”

if you marry another girl she starts flirting with you like “I’m so envious of your wife, having such a fine husband… Pete.” (or whatever your name is)

i’ve become obsessed with her and romeo’s horrible trainwreck soap opera marriage since replaying cute in jp… it’s SO… i have so much to say about them that it should be its own post but i’ll just give the cliffnotes

shotgun wedding vibes. romeo is surprised by his own wedding. they’re childhood friends but he himself has never considered marrying her. her words to him at their wedding are “Make me happy♡” (command)

she understandably can’t stand his terrible table manners or his clothes or anything about him (except that she wants to watch him surf and have his child. but he instead walks in circles all day. coward) and he’s both really good at accidentally stepping on landmines and just ever so slightly majorly terrified of her after marriage (“but surely her angry outbursts are just her way of showing love hahahahaha” you’re going to die. she’s going to kill you). the only positive things they say about their marriage are extremely shallow. they can’t communicate with each other because romeo always says the Dumbest Shit obliviously and leona always responds by cutting him out of her life forever!!!!!! (for 5 seconds) while he has no idea what happened

they are both so melodramatic and they both just do nothing except make each other worse and run away from each other and push each other away but they can’t escape each other. neither of them ever has to grow or change if they marry each other because an elderly overworked man is sustaining both of their existences and neither of them can take care of themselves and i love them your honor

also romeo’s first crush as a kid was apparently her mom, and if leona falls for YOU she flirts by mentioning that sebastian says you look like the spitting image of her dead father. dear fucking god

they’re the epitome of “You're both just enabling each other's mental illnesses. You're both perfect for each other. Never change. Just never involve anybody else in what you've got going on.”

romeo really does feel like her stupid lackey. like the karen to her regina. they even had this dynamic in the games they played as kids… she was the Harvest Goddess and he was Servant A/Minion A (they might still be playing this game as adults…he calls her lady/mistress sometimes after marriage…)

btw leona’s best friend (wife) marivia is also just as… there’s an event where they just gossip about all the mineral town ppl and marivia says ann would win a gluttony contest and they both giggle

there’s also an event where marivia casually walks into Witch’s hut and just interviews her so she can write her into a novel. witch is left completely drained by this exchange. leona and marivia both are so chill about the horrible cruel villainess living in leona’s shed who wants the town poisoned and rewards you for killing animals and hurting yourself and is putting curses on everyone (and they’re right. she’s never done anything wrong in her life)

#i also feel like leona and marivia summoned Witch (just girlypop things summoning hot evil ladies from hell)#i’m a marivia x leona x witch truther. the evidence is out there. evil yuri triad (real)#i also love to believe that witch is fucking with all the rival couples in the valley but ESPECIALLY romeo x leona #since she’s petty about her crush (leona) choosing the village idiot of all people #she can’t affect gustafa and nami because gustafa is like a garden gnome type that wards away evil #leona would make coquette edits of phantom skye/steiner #man i really have a lot of overlapping ships but i just like thinking about everyone together in some way #marivia was interviewing witch for a girls love leona x witch sequel in that series she wrote that has the main character based on leona #(this was revealed to me in a dream)#bokumono #harvest moon ds #hmds #harvest moon #story of seasons #hmds leona #hmds lumina #i’m sorry for going ham about your tags i promise i’m normal #^_−☆#hmds cute #i feel like everyone collectively forgot what hmds was like which is understandable because it’s a fever dream #or maybe we misremembered it from our childhoods #but replaying the girl and boy versions in english and japanese has really refreshed my views on the characters #i have so much to say about everyone mostly the rival couples #love the dysfunction and bad vibes in this game #poisoned water supply type of townsfolk #girls hour (meet up in the mines to beat each other up and slaughter various animals and humanoids to eat)#it’s such an evil game #haunted by natsume malware ghosts

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