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colorsunimaginable · 1 year

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the spare // chapter thirty-nine // death eater ! tom hiddleston x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary: While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

word count for this chapter: 5.6k warnings for this chapter: blow jobs, dom talk, masturbation

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Thirty-Nine:

Thomus is in the kitchen when I go down the next morning. I really force myself not to turn around and head back upstairs at the sight. It had been a ridiculously rough morning and I’m not in the mood to argue with him. (About what? I don’t know but I’m sure something will come up.)

When I’d woken up, I’d quickly realized why I was being tormented by cramps. Since I no longer have my IUD preventing me from having them, my body is forcing me to catch up on all the periods I’d missed since I was 18. Of course, now that I’d figured out what the problem was, I quickly called for Mippy. She’s my knight in shining armor, returning with a contraceptive potion to make it stop. By the time I was out of the shower, the bleeding had stopped altogether.

I guess this is how it’ll be for the rest of my life. Even though my fallopian tubes are damaged, my uterus will still try to shed the lining every month. I’d opted for the muggle option for contraception because I’d never been good at taking things regularly. One summer I’d made a big deal about wanting acne pills, but totally didn’t take them when I was at school. I simply didn’t trust myself to take a pill every day, or a potion once a month for that matter.

The IUD especially came in handy when coming here. I never knew where I’d end up or what could happen, even when things were starting to take a turn for the worse for No-Maj borns. My position at the Daily Prophet wasn’t secure after they’d found out my parentage. I couldn’t hide it when anyone could summon articles about a No-Maj born child winning the Wandless Magic Tournament.

Not saying anything to Thomus, I go about making myself a cup of coffee. A large one with copious amounts of cream and sugar. I’d kill for some mocha creamer at a time like this.

I don’t bother sitting at the table with him. Mostly I stare off into space, working on my Occlumency. Shoving back and burying recent painful memories since I’d had my magic taken away. Similar to Thomus’ lock box method, but a cemetery. The emotions are buried, but the facts remain etched into a headstone or a plaque, dependent on severity. My one night stand with Thomus is a mausoleum, every little physical intimate interaction, every kiss we’ve had resides there. It's pretty morbid, I know, but it’s how I’ve learned to live with the pain.

Sam is a different story. My memories with her are in a cute little library that looks like her favorite one. A decommissioned caboose that sat on the edge of a park in a surrounding township where we went to college. I remember how she’d lost her mind the day we found it –

“Alder, did you hear anything I just said?”

Shit fuck. I blink and look at Thomus to find him staring at me, an eyebrow raised. The kettle starts to whistle and I jump into action.

“Of course I heard you,” I lie. The fresh coffee smell fills the room again and I pour the cream in. I’d already spooned out sugar into the bottom of the mug beforehand.

“Then what did I say?” he asks.

My backs to him as I stir my coffee, taking a testing sip to see if I’d wrangled the coffee taste enough. “Mmm, something about tonight.” Satisfied, I start putting everything away. “A time maybe?”

He gives me an extremely unamused look. “Yes,” he snaps. “7 o’clock is when I want to leave.”

Picking up my coffee, I take another sip. “Sure, I’ll see if I have room in my schedule. It’s a little last notice, so I’m warning you now that I might not be able to fit it in.”

Before he can argue, Sam, meowing his head off, bolts into the room through the cat door. He charges through the kitchen straight to the living room, then comes back and starts circling my legs. I immediately put down my coffee and swoop him up into my arms.

“Hello!” I say, nuzzling his face.

“That beast’s still around I see,” Thomus grumbles.

I sigh and resist tossing a glare his way. “Well, I’ll just take him outside so you can sit here all alone.”

I’m dressed enough in my shorts and hoodie, so I march outside without my shoes.

Sam’s meows quieted the moment we’re through the door. “Wait till we’re by the creek,” I whisper to him.

I probably didn’t even need to say anything like that, because as soon as we’re out of eyesight into the woods, he’s out of my arms and running ahead of me. Quickening my pace as much as going barefoot will allow, I follow him to the creek. When I get there, I barely catch his white fur disappearing on the other side of the creek, the rustling of leaves in his wake.

After a few moments of anxious waiting, his blond head pops up out of the foliage. His arm is up, pointing his wand at something above him. My eyes scan the trees above, but see nothing. He crosses the bubbling water and I almost think his worn out converse won’t make it across the slippery rocks, but soon he’s standing before me.

Sam’s blue eyes are almost perfect circles as he stares at me. I can see white scar marks, remnants of magical wounds down the side of his face. They stand out in the dark scruff coming in along his jaw.

I don’t have time to comment on his new worn-torn look, because he takes a few steps back, bringing his wand arm down until his wand is pointing at me. His free hand comes out, taking a fist of something invisible in between us. I blink rapidly as my eyes take in the recognizable movement of magical fabric. He pulls it back to reveal George Weasley’s sleeping face, floating between us. My jaw drops and my eyes widen in shock.

Sam’s words come out in between labored breaths. “We were tryin’ to move a couple families out beyond the Anti-Apparition line, but he got hit with an acid curse as we tried to Apparate and he splinched.” He pulls the fabric back more, revealing wrappings around George’s torso and limbs. “I gave him all the Essence of Dittany I had, but he still has to regrow his bones.”

My mouth forms around the words, but it takes me a moment for them to come out. “Why the fuck would you bring him here?” I whisper. “You do know that Thomus Malfoy has been tasked with hunting him down, right?”

“Aye, I’m no’ an idiot,” he protests. “I’ve been helpin’ him avoid the fucker.” Then he sighs. “This was the closest place that I could think of. What better place than right under the bastard’s nose?”

I take deep breaths, stifling the panic threatening to burst through and make me lose all clear, cohesive thinking. Sam’s logic, while a stretch, isn’t crazy. Thomus would be out searching for someone who was right where he’d never think to look. But where to –

“We could put him in the attic!” I say excitedly. “There’s plenty of room and I don’t think Thomus knows it’s there.”

“You have an attic?” he asks, tilting his head.

I laugh once. “My point exactly.”

We both look back down at George, and I reach my hand out to grab the invisibility cloak, slowly pulling it back over him until he’s covered again.

“I have him stunned right now,” Sam says. “But I don’t think he should be for much longer. He’s in a lot of pain.”

“No, you’re right,” I respond. “Malfoy is home right now, so it’s going to be difficult getting him inside.”

“Is there any way into the attic from outside?”

I shake my head. “A tiny window. The entrance is in the laundry room above the dryer and it’s maybe this wide.” I show with my hands. “We’ll have to get him up there at an angle.”

“I can manage that. How’re we gonna get around Malfoy?”

“Um…”

We have to get him through the living room. I don’t think I can manage to get him up there without Thomus noticing. Sam would have to be in cat form and he wouldn’t be able to suspend George like this. Thomus is nosey as shit so he’d ask what I was doing and –

“I’m gonna go back up to see if he’s still there. It’s early morning so there’s a chance he’s left by now, but with us having plans this evening, it’s unlikely.”

Sam doesn’t hide his surprise. “Ye have plans?” he asks. “Together?”

“It’s a meeting,” I say. “Some conversation they’re continuing with some American wizards. I don’t know any details yet.”

He nods. “Alright. So how’re we getting him past Malfoy?”

I take a deep breath. “If he’s not already gone, then I’m gonna go distract him and… try to make him leave I guess.”

I don’t like the idea that I have, but it’s the only thing I’ve got.

“How?”

I start towards the house, ignoring his question. “Just wait for my signal and please, for the love of God, don’t come inside.”

Sam starts at that. “What?”

“There’s no way for me to explain without it being super awkward, so just roll with it, okay? It’s gonna work.” I don’t wait for him to respond and make my way back to the house.

Before going inside, I take a moment to calm my racing heart. I need to get Thomus to leave. The only thing that I can think of is extremely risky. Fuck, it might not even work. With everything that’s happened, I have no idea what he’ll do.

Tentatively, I step back into the kitchen. He’s not there. Slowly I walk over to where my coffee is still on the counter. From this angle, I can see Thomus sitting on the couch. Okay, so he’s still here. I gulp down a good portion of my coffee, cooled down enough now for me to do so.

What makes the most sense to me is to try to catch him by surprise. So I go upstairs, acting like it’s a regular day. Because it is – of course it is. I need to change out of this hoodie. The shorts can stay, I’ll hike those up later. Shit, what else should I wear? A tank top?

My brain reminds me of the outfits I wore around the house when he was healing from the doxy bite. My “whore” outfit that made him weak enough to sleep with me. I roll my eyes as I dig through the closet. As if. I pull out a familiar crop top and quickly pull it on, knowing time is of the essence.

Before going downstairs, I take yet another moment to compose myself. He’s just… Thomus. He’s not a big scary Death Eater. He’s hurt my feelings but he hasn’t physically hurt me, so the chances of that happening are unlikely. He’s just a man. A man who, when I can be detached from those feelings of hurt, I can still climb like a goddamn tree. A man that, when I can smother my feelings of inadequacy and fears of rejection, I can recall all of those fantasies I’ve had.

I didn’t know I’d be grave digging twenty fucking minutes later. Is it grave digging if it’s a mausoleum? Maybe not if I’m cracking open the new locks with a crowbar. Thank fuck I have my magic at a time like this.

I pull out the memory of us together, before what happened after. Before the moment I reached out for him. I need to remember how fucking amazing everything was. I need this to feel genuine. Believable.

So what if he doesn’t find me attractive? That’s probably going to come to my advantage, and I’m trying not to care how humiliating it’s going to be. He’s going to reject me and if I can bet on anything, it’s that he’s going to walk away.

I flip my hair over, running my fingers through the drying locks. I wish I could put makeup on without wasting time or drawing too many questions. I grab the waistband of my shorts and hike them up so my ass cheeks are hanging out. In an innocuous, whore-ish way, I hope.

When I enter the living room, he’s sitting relaxed on the couch, eyes closed. I clear my throat, acting like I’d just walked in. He opens his eyes.

“Hi!” I say and smile, forcing myself not to wince at my overly enthusiastic tone. I go to the bookshelf, which is directly across from where he’s sitting, and lean over. I spend a few good long moments searching for a book that I know is in the office.

“Hmmmm,” I sigh. After grabbing a random book, I straighten, flipping through the pages. Knitting patterns. Casually, I turn around. He’s looking at me already, his eyebrows pulled tight, his lips pressed together. I shift my weight onto one hip.

“Mind if I sit?” I ask, trying to sound innocent.

He lazily waves his hand to the chair. “Be my guest,” he says, his tone heavily bordering on annoyed. Keeping my eyes on the book in my hand, I move forward, invading his space by directly straddling his lap. He immediately shifts, holding his hands up, not touching me. “What the fuck are you doing?”

I close the book dramatically and toss it on the floor behind me before running my hands up his delicious shoulders. I shrug and sigh heavily. “Sitting.” I keep my tone light and teasing while the muscles in his jaw tick. He shifts under me again, as if uncomfortable. My legs open wider, and I shimmy closer to him, my fingers coming to rest lightly on his neck. His face is tilted up and to the side, refusing to look at me.

I lean forward, running my lips along his neck. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “You said I could sit.”

He sighs heavily, frustrated. “This is not what I fucking meant.”

“This is much better,” I murmur, my voice low and near his ear. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

His jaw clenches and his eyes close while he shakes his head. I grab his hands and put them on my bare thighs. My lips on his neck part and I leave wet kisses up to his jaw. The hands on my thighs don’t disappear, they don’t squeeze, they don’t rub. They just sit.

“Have you forgotten the entire conversation where I explained I find you repulsive?” he asks through his teeth.

My next few breaths are painful, his words tearing at my confidence. My heart races, my pulse beating loudly in my ears. His breathing is controlled, and it reminds me of when I’m trying not to gag.

“Then close your eyes,” I whisper.

Bravely, my hand goes down between us to palm his length. I feel a mixture of surprise and triumphant when I discover he’s already semi-hard, listening to his sharp intake of breath. The hands on my thighs grip me, not to pull me closer, but to push me off. My legs clamp down over his hips and my remaining free hand reaches up to turn his head so my lips can meet his.

It feels like heaven to kiss him again. And for a moment, he kisses me back. Our tongues meet gently and he pulls my bottom lip between his teeth.

Then he bites down – hard.

I gasp in pain and yank my head back. He’s glaring at me, drops of blood on his lip. A spot on my bottom lip pulses and hurts when my tongue comes out to feel the small wound. A sore really. My hand comes up and I wipe the blood beading out of the cut. My eyes are wide with shock.

His hands on my thighs move to my hips and he shoves me off. I quickly go to my knees, kneeling between his, my hands on his thighs. My eyes slide down his torso to his crotch and without a second thought, I start undoing his pants. I pop out the button and his hand over mine stalls my pulling of the zipper.

“Please,” I gasp, using my tongue to pull my lower lip in my mouth, tasting the blood. My hand that’s not covered rubs him through the fabric. I push my eyebrows together and look up at him with what I hope is an innocent face. “I need to feel you in my mouth again.”

He raises a mocking eyebrow. “You need it?”

I nod, short quick juts of my chin. I have to smother my shock when his eyes darken as they roam my face and his chest expands as he takes another deep breath. His free hand comes up to my face and he grabs my chin, tilting it up. He sits up, bringing his face closer to mine.

“You better make it worth my while,” he growls the threat. His grip releases as he shoves my head back. I try to keep a straight face, my breath quickening, partly with fear and partly with… excitement. Oh boy is this unlocking a kink I didn’t know I had.

When he sits back, his hand releases mine, and I immediately continue unzipping his pants. Then he’s free and in my hand. My core involuntarily clenches as my hand rubs him up and down, my fingers barely touching my thumb around his girth.

By the time I lean forward and take him into my mouth, he’s fully hard. His breath is measured and he leans back further into his seat, an arm coming to rest along the back of the couch. I pull him deeper into my mouth, sucking, before looking up. His eyes are still dark, but his face is passive, reserved. My hesitancy springs forward, and makes me second guess my decision to attempt this. The apathy he’s showing makes me wanna curl up and never look him in the face again.

But I close my eyes and shove that feeling down for the moment. I’ve been told that I was good at this before. I’d always been so willing because I marveled at how I could make the guy come apart. Thomus almost did last time before he stopped me.

I slide him out of my mouth, stopping to swirl my tongue around his head, before descending again. I take him as deep as I could without gagging before beginning to bob my head up and down. My hand comes up to slide along his length where my mouth can’t reach. It twists with every stroke, synchronizing with my mouth and tongue.

Normally, at least in my experience, the guy by this point is giving some physical signs that he’s enjoying what’s happening. But besides from the pre-cum I taste on my tongue, Thomus is showing none of the usual signs. Not even like he did last time. So I keep going, like it’s muscle memory.

My movements only falter when his fingers brush gently along the side of my face to tuck my hair behind my ear. I guess that means I can assume he’s still watching me at least.

This goes on for a few more minutes. I let out a small moan here and there, kinda sorta getting lost in what I’m doing. Sucking his cock does turn me on, it feels so good and dirty that I almost forget Sam and George are waiting for me as I sink further into this headspace.

“That’s enough,” he grunts. Abruptly, he’s grabbing my hair, pulling me back, and he’s out of my mouth with an audible pop as the suction releases. My eyes are wide and I pant through my mouth, catching my breath while I look up at him. “I think you were enjoying that far too much.”

I shake my head, a pout forming on my lips. “I don’t think you were enjoying that enough.”

“Excuse me?”

My fingers slide up and down his length, so wet with my saliva. “Are you really going to lie and tell me you're not enjoying this?” I murmur. I squeeze and twist my hand around his head. His jaw clenches and I catch his sharp intake of breath when his nostrils flare. “I love your cock in my mouth so much, please let me make you cum.”

I align his cock with my mouth and make a beeline for it, but have to stop when his hand is at my throat. His grip is firm and pulls me up closer to his face.

“Prove it,” he says. “Show me how much you love it.”

Breathing hard, I involuntarily swallow, my throat moving against the palm of his hand. I can’t believe I have to look him in the eyes as I do this. My hands feel around for his free hand and I pull back my shorts' waistband, sliding his fingers down my stomach and under the soft curve of my pelvis. My hand is down there with his, his fingers cool against my hot folds as I push them to slide through. Even from here I can hear how wet I sound.

His hand cups me as his fingers explore, feeling around my entrance and pressing in on my clit. My eyes flutter and my hips rock against him. I think this is when the lil slut in my head finally takes over completely. My hand is over his still, using light pressure as a way to beg for more.

But he pulls his hand out. The elastic of the waistband snaps against my stomach before his fingers are at my mouth. My lips automatically part for him as he slides his wet fingers along my tongue. He pushes in until he’s knuckle deep and I have to focus on breathing through my nose so I don’t gag.

“Su –“ he starts to say, but I’m already doing it. My tongue circles his fingers and laps up every tangy drop of myself.

“Good girl,” he continues, his voice is scratchy and hoarse. His eyes are focused on my lips around his fingers. “I suppose I can close my eyes and pretend you’re someone else. A mouth is a mouth after all.”

He releases my throat and I immediately shut away his last words, choosing to pretend he never said them. His fingers pull out of my mouth and he sits back, pushing his hips forward. I grip the base of his cock again, preparing to descend, but his fingers are at my lips again.

“I want your fingers buried in your cunt as you suck my cock,” he orders. “Keep proving to me how much you love it.”

My split second hesitation isn’t because I don’t want to do as he says, but because I have to decide where I want my dominant hand. Making myself cum or around his cock?

When I make my decision, my right hand quickly finds my pussy. I figure his cock doesn’t need my mouth and my dominant hand. I spread my knees and grab him with my left hand. My mouth starts sucking his tip when I push two fingers inside myself. They bend and hook right against my g-spot, the swell of my hand under my thumb brushing against my clit. As I pull his cock further into my mouth, my hips move and I can’t stop the moan that escapes.

“That’s it,” he pants. I continue the routine I had before he pulled me off. Only this time it’s hotter because I’m getting myself off, too. It makes me love him in my mouth even more.

Every time he descends into my mouth, my tongue swirls around him, giving special attention to the underside of his head. I quickly find the perfect rhythm between the bounce of my head and hips.

I feel almost drunk on him as my orgasm builds. My fingers are almost not enough when I have the memory of his own long digits, curling and fitting better inside me. His cock is drenched in my saliva and my mouth gets sloppy. The cut on my lip is throbbing from being stretched around him.

When all I can imagine – all I can think about or want – is his massive cock buried inside my cunt, I know it won’t take long for me to cum. My fingers move with my jerking hips, soaked with my own arousal. Instinctively edging myself because I want to cum at the same time as he does. I want to taste him.

When I look up at him, I fully expect his head to be tilted back, his eyes closed as he pictures someone else’s mouth on him. Instead I find his gaze open, watching me. His hands are fisting the seat cushions on either side of his thighs, gripping so tight his knuckles are white. He’s breathing hard and as our eyes meet, his hips start jerking upwards, as if he’s unable to stop himself from fucking my mouth.

It's so fucking hot and dirty that I suck him harder as my cunt clenches around my fingers. I start whimpering around him as my orgasm starts to break, pleasure radiating through my body while I continue to fuck my fingers. A strangled groan tears its way out of his throat and my mouth is getting filled with his hot cum. I start swallowing and shove him further in, my mouth lax as my throat repeatedly closes around his head.

A louder, deep growl sound erupts from him. “Fuck – just like that – oh, fuck,” he purrs, his voice deep, sending shivers through my body. I pull my fingers out and gently circle my clit, coming down from my high as my mouth turns to gentle sucking when his body relaxes.

He finally touches me again when he pushes at my shoulder. I release him and straighten, pulling my hand out of my shorts. I’m trying to keep my panting quiet.

Thomus grabs my wrist, the one with wrinkly, drenched fingers and pulls it closer. He flips it over and around, examining the glistening slick globs of my arousal. I watch his face anxiously. His eyebrows are pulled together, his mouth a tight distinguished frown. He’s probably experiencing that post-nut clarity again and wants nothing to do with me.

He softly clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "Look at the mess you made."

My face is already flush from the exertion, but it heats once more at his words. When he drops my wrist I immediately bring it behind my back. My mind is already at work sweeping up every thought and emotion about this experience to box it away, to trap it in a compartment in the mausoleum. I start to put distance between us, backing away so I’ll have room to stand.

His hand shoots out, gripping where my neck meets my jaw, pulling me back towards him. My eyes widen with alarm when I see his wand pointed right at my face. My clean hand braces itself on his thigh, pushing myself back. His eyes are on my mouth and it’s where he puts the tip of his wand.

“Episky,” he murmurs, and the wound on my lip heals. Then his wand is gone and his thumbs are swiping at something wet on my cheeks and under my eyes. When had I started to cry? I’m definitely not crying now and I’m surprised he’s showing so much… care. What am I supposed to say?

Luckily, not much. He releases me and sits back, tucking himself back into his pants. I stand and he does, too. He doesn’t look at me before walking away and silently going upstairs. I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear the bathroom doors close and the shower kick on.

I hurry into the kitchen to wash my hands and then bolt out into the backyard.

“Sam?” I loudly whisper, but get no response. I run down to the creek, calling his name. When I don’t hear anything, I rush back into the house and head straight for the laundry room. The panel in the ceiling is cracked open a little. My heart drops into my stomach when I realize what must have happened.

Quickly, I climb up onto the dryer, popping my head into the attic. “Sam?”

Sam’s head pops up from behind a wall of boxes. It’s clear he’s moved them to provide more of a hiding spot as I pull myself up.

“Hiya,” he says. His pale face is flushed and although he’s got a lil smirk on his face, he’s not looking me directly in the eyes. George is still knocked out, laying on a conjured sleeping mat, the invisibility cloak covering half his body. I get down on my knees beside where Sam is sitting.

“How much did you see?” I ask, unsure if I want to know the answer. I’m already dying of embarrassment myself.

He shrugs, fiddling with his wand. “Nothing really. It only took a glance to figure out what was going on.”

I feel my face get all hot again. My jaw is sore. “Did you cast the sound muffling charm yet?”

He shakes his head and I stand, holding my palm out and mutter the incantation. A golden misty shimmer floats out of my hand and settles all around the room, putting us in a sound bubble.

“I thought they’re suppressing all of the Lots' magic with a potion,” he says, surprised. “And ye can… do it without a wand?”

“They are, but… I think I’m beginning to overpower it,” I explain. “Malfoy had to make a stronger batch for me early on, and recently it’s been starting to lose its effects on me.”

“Like ye’re becoming immune?” There’s a touch of excitement in his voice. “I’m guessing he doesna ken ye have it now.”

I shake my head. “Luckily, no. And I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.”

“Especially if ye can do wandless magic that’s… I doona ken I’ve ever met anyone besides Dumbledore who could do that.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely going to come in handy.” I kneel beside George again. “When are you gonna wake him up?”

“I wanted to wait until ye were here,” Sam says.

I nod and hold out my hand, conjuring a vial of the pain potion from my room. “This is a pain potion. When I took it, it knocked me out for a long time. It should help him get through the worst of it without being stunned. Do you have the Skelegrow?”

“Aye, here,” Sam says, pulling it from his pocket. “What did ye need the pain potion for?

“You don’t wanna know,” I sigh. I move around to George’s head, lifting him by the shoulders until they rested in my lap. I uncork the vial. “Okay, you can wake him up now.”

Sam points his wand to George’s chest and says, “Rennervate.” A flash of red light goes into George’s chest and his eyes immediately pop open as he gasps for breath.

“Hi, George,” I say gently. My hand caresses his cheek. “Remember me? My name’s Melisa, I’m friends with Ron. We met at Hogwarts in May?”

I can tell he’s holding back groans of pain. The part of his body I could see are jerking minutely.

“You’re safe here, okay?” I continue. “We have Skelegrow and pain potion for you. It’s going to make you feel better.”

“Where am I?” he gasps, looking to Sam.

“It’s like the lady says, you’re safe,” Sam replies. He puts his hand on George’s shoulder to hold him down.

“Did the MacDonald’s get out? And the Carmichaels?”

“Aye, they did.”

This seems to settle him a bit. “Angelina, is she still –“

“She’s still with Fleur, doona worry,” Sam says lightly. “Ye’ll turn grey before ye see her again if ye keep it up. Now drink up, lad.”

George’s tired eyes go from Sam to me and I smile, gently stroking his cheek. I take the Skelegrow from Sam and press it to his lips. He accepts it, downing half the vial. He breathes audibly as I switch out the Skelegrow with the pain potion. He drinks all of that, too. We watch as his eyes flutter closed and his breathing evens out.

Sam lets out a sigh of relief. “How long will he be out?”

“24 hours, at least,” I say as I lay George back down. "You hungry?"

“Starving, if I’m honest,” he replies.

“How does beef stew sound?”

“Fan-fuckin-tastic.” His enthusiasm makes me smile.

“He should be alright up here by himself for a bit. You can come down with me,” I say as I head for the hole in the floor, getting onto my butt to fit through legs first. “As a cat, of course.”

He chuckles. “No shit.” He crouches to shift.

“Wait, what’s your real name?” I ask.

“Caelan.”

“Oh, that’s not so bad.”

He tilts his head. “Why did ye think it’d be bad?”

“Well, you said I should keep calling you Sam when we first met,” I explain. “I figured it was because your real name was something you didn't like.”

He snorts. “No. I just didn’t trust ye yet.”

“Oh,” I say, then smile again, understanding that means he trusts me now, and turn to hop down onto the dryer. When I look back, Caelan’s white cat form is in my face, purring.

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thebestbookrecommendations · 2 years

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Speak - Laurie Halse Anderson

"Speak up for yourself—we want to know what you have to say." From the first moment of her freshman year at Merryweather High, Melinda knows this is a big fat lie, part of the nonsense of high school. She is friendless, outcast, because she busted an end-of-summer party by calling the cops, so now nobody will talk to her, let alone listen to her. As time passes, she becomes increasingly isolated and practically stops talking altogether. Only her art class offers any solace, and it is through her work on an art project that she is finally able to face what really happened at that terrible party: she was raped by an upperclassman, a guy who still attends Merryweather and is still a threat to her.

Read if You Like:

Young Adult Fiction

Contemporary Fiction

Fiction Dealing with Mental Health

Coming of Age Stories

Recommended if You Enjoy:

Stephen Chbosky (The Perks of Being a Wallflower)

John Green (Looking For Alaska)

Jay Asher (Thirteen Reasons Why)

Beatrice Sparks (Go Ask Alice)

Ellen Hopkins (Identical)

Laurie Halse Anderson (Wintergirls)

4/5

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oh-katsuki · 2 years

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hey cal, feel free to ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable. i just need someone to help me with this. is it normal to not talk to your mutuals anymore? like i talk to this person everyday but now their texts feel rude and the things they say make me very uncomfortable. but i can't block and move on because i've shared so much to them and i feel like people would start to question if we stop talking altogether. again i am very sorry if this is not something you're comfortable with. i'm just really lost and need some advice right now. /gen

hi nonnie <3 i'm sorry to hear that's happening. change is always difficult to handle, especially with people you care a lot about. im going to out my response below a cut since it's a big long.

it's completely normal to talk less to your mutuals. mutuals work just like normal friendships. sometimes, people grow or change or just stop talking. it doesn't necessarily mean that there is any bad blood, it just means that change is on its way and that's okay.

there's no need to block or ignore them or any of that stuff. y'all are just people dealing with your own stuff, it's totally normal to fade a little bit. it might suck because if you've been talking every day then it's quite a change, but that doesn't mean it is inherently bad. your friend could be dealing with their own stuff right now that they're not ready to talk about. or it could just be that you're both growing and your dynamic is changing and that's okay too!

i would try not to overthink too much about it. believe in the idea that people come and go from your every day life for a reason. do what you can to show you still care for them, but respect the boundaries they may be trying to put in place.

speaking from experience, you don't need to talk every day in order to be friends. my mutuals and i are still very good friends, but there are times when we'll go a little bit without speaking. it doesn't mean that we're not still close friends, it just means that our dynamic has changed in the time that we've known each other. take my irl best friend for example. I've known her since preschool and sometimes we will go months or more without talking, but we still love and care for each other the same way we did before. it's just that our lives and circumstances have changed and our friendship adapted to meet that.

it's important to remember that friendships between mutuals function the same as irl friendships and that a change in dynamic does not always mean someone hates you or dislikes you. it just means that something is happening and your relationship is adapting to fit those circumstances.

that being said, if they're being outwardly rude, mean, or making you uncomfortable / hurting your feelings, it might be time to consider if that friendship is good for you. your friend may have external circumstances that are affecting the way they interact with the world, but it's not an excuse to treat you poorly. I've had to do it before both online and irl and it can definitely be hard but you will be able to get through it. you don't necessarily need to block them, but if the case is that they are not treating you well, maybe consider just slowing down communication for your own mental well-being. there's no need to be confrontational about it if you don't feel it's necessary. try and go with the flow of things and maybe consider taking some space for yourself as well.

i hope this helps, nonnie and i sincerely hope that things get better for you and your friend. just know that however it ends up, you both will be okay. it's normal for friendships to change and grow. i hope everything turns out okay <3

#[ 🏩 – chatting ]#[ ♠️ – advice ]#im sending you a lot of love <3

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alyjojo · 1 month

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Love Reading 💖 - March 2024 - Pisces

Singles:

Who is Coming In: 5 Pentacles, King of Wands, Page of Pentacles

Regarding: 3 Pentacles

Long-Term Potential: Page of Wands

This feels more like something you’re entertaining in your head, because they show up as something platonic. A friend, coworker, favorite barista, etc. King of Wands, could be a fire sign, or just someone you find attractive, fun, exciting, they could be the life of the party or class clown energy, they like attention. They’re surrounded with sadness, heartbreak, could’ve just gone through a painful break-up or a difficult situation. You’re a friend to this person, maybe even offering comfort or being supportive to them. Romantic though? You wonder…maybe? Long term potential is no, you two may bring out the inner child in each other, and you have fun together or enjoy talking, but it stops there. Ace of Wands rev clarifies the Page, showing either there’s a lack of attraction, desire, motivation, the spark just isn’t there. Or there could be some flirtation to test the waters but nothing ever comes of it, no action. You two do have great chemistry as friends though.

Messages:

- Facial Hair 🧔‍♂️

- Older Man/Woman

MIRROR 🪞

- Mirroring Each Other

- Self-Reflection

- Introspection

- Inner Wounds

“Choose the path of nope today.”

Signs you may be dealing with:

Fire 🔥 Scorpio, Sagittarius & Pisces

Couples:

Them: Page of Swords, Ace of Pentacles, The Star

Regarding: 4 Pentacles

Okay, they’ve pulled the Narcissist card, but I’m not getting that vibe from them. Maybe, or their behavior may come off as that and you’ve wondered. They are incredibly narrow-minded, selfish, and probably controlling, they think they can tell you what you can and can’t do…maybe with money? I get ego big time, but not cruelty or the mind games that would come with that label. “I am who I am.” Resistant to change, resistant to outside ideas, a stubborn ass that can only see one perspective - theirs, and other people are wrong. Yes? That’s your problem. Well it’s their problem but it’s become your problem because you have goals over here and they’ve been getting in the way of that.

Now I do see some hypocrisy with them. Do as I say, not as I do. They could be someone who travels a lot, whether work or they have family & friends all over that they’re going to see. It’s like when they want something, that’s fine, but when you want to do the same thing, they have an issue. Or there is always money for their needs but not yours. Fk that 💯 It could be they don’t even invite you or ask you to do anything ever, but they’ll go all out for a social occasion, coworkers, something like that. You’ve probably called them out on their shit, and friends they talk to may have done the same thing - unbeknownst to you. They’re seeing the truth of the situation, where before they’ve only seen from their own little place in the world and judged accordingly. It’s a vibe of lacking empathy…jeez I feel like the more we go along here no wonder you think narcissism, if you do. Maybe, I’m not a doctor. Could just be emotionally immature. Whether yes or not, Spirit is validating your experience with that and Selfish both coming out. They may want to buy a car too - not for everyone. Like they can’t take you out but they can afford thousands down on a new car. Their priorities are they/them and what they want. They could be trying to work on it for you though, especially if you’ve called them out or held back from them altogether.

Messages:

- Selfish

- Soothing Presence

THE GOLDEN MIRROR 🪞

- Narcissist

- Love Bombing

- Self-Absorbed

- One-Sided

“Bye-bye, dumbass bullshit.”

You: 7 Wands, Strength, 3 Wands

Regarding: King of Cups

You’re sick of their shit 💯 You feel you have every right to be defensive of this person wasting time, breadcrumbing, giving you excuse after excuse on why they can’t do things, or why you can’t. You may feel held back from people you care about, specifically friends. But they can do it ok 👍 7 Wands shows a competitive vibe as well, feeling like you have to fight off competition, or “compete” for their time possibly. Because in the mutual energy, you’re both busy, so why is it your job to maneuver around this person’s priorities and stuff yours in a drawer? Particularly around money, that seems to be the thing they use against you, or a big one. You’re done 💯 Moving on and away from this, you feel you have every reason to enjoy your life without this person and you’re tired of feeling held back.

Messages:

- Kind ��

- Moving Out, Moving On

PARTYING 🥳

- Time With Friends

- Having Fun

- Happily Single

- Living in the Moment

“A wise woman once said fuck this shit, and she lived happily ever after.”

Mutual: 8 Pentacles, 2 Pentacles, 2 Swords

Regarding: Page of Wands & Ace of Wands

Both of you are very busy people, you both have goals, dreams, things that excite you and motivate you towards a future you desire. No one has control over the other. You both go back and forth on whether you should talk to each other, expressing anger more than anything. You especially may not have said much out loud, just bailed. That could’ve left this person confused. There’s a lot unsaid and a lot unaddressed, it’s caused confusion on both sides, and stagnation towards improving this connection - if it’s even possible. Would you even want to? You both seem motivated to take action towards something new, new people, relationships, passions, etc. Both of you are changing and growing, and if anything, you could be doing this *in spite of* the other person. 5 Swords at the bottom is like both of you equally being like “fk you” to the other person, and moving on. The oracles here are beautiful, growth, letting past shit go, moving on and feeling alive again. It’s a good thing. I just don’t know if it’s gonna be together or not.

THE BUTTERFLY 🦋

- Evolving & Growth

- Next Phase

- Healing Inner Child

- Releasing the Past

Signs you may be dealing with:

Leo, Capricorn, Aquarius & Scorpio

#Pisces #love tarot reading #march 2024 #love #tarot #tarotblr #singles #couples

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bellevvalencia · 4 months

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If I love you, you are not allowed to die

November 15, 2023

If today was a normal day, I wouldn’t be thinking about death.

Death has been something that I had always avoided to think about growing up. Mostly, I didn’t want my parents to die. My father worked overseas for most of my childhood, and for some reason, my worst fear was him not making it back alive. I knew that he would, and he did, but that’s how the mind of a six-year-old would run when she witnessed grief really early on, even if it was something that she didn’t quite understand.

I saw my dad’s grief at four when he lost his parents. He was 25, and they died on November 3 and November 24 consecutively, twenty days apart. I doubt he remembered his own birthday on November 13 that year.

He had two younger sisters and six younger brothers. We were all just children, and they were my best friends. We would watch WWE and we would physically play it and we would film band videos with makeshift broom-guitars and cooking pan-drums. I was with them throughout their grief. Like them, I knew about grief early on, but it wasn’t something that I could process myself. It is never the same when it’s your own, so it could, of course, never match what I felt. For them, it was the worst.

It’s why when I was 12 and came across a Tumblr blog entitled “death is inevitable,” I was furious. How could anyone put this out there so lightly and how could anyone just simply say it like it meant nothing? I didn’t know it yet, but that surge of anger came from what I thought was the weight of death for the people that get left behind.

And so, there. Death was my greatest fear.

I would never want to grieve over anyone that I loved larger than life. I loved my father first and more than anything that a child could know. Everybody knew from the moment my legs stood on their own that I would die for him. Because I would walk towards him. Because I told my mother that I would live with him if they’d gotten separated and she wasn’t allowed to get me. Because my wrath for anyone who would cross him would send me straight to hell.

I would never want anyone to grieve over me either, because it feels horrible. The sinking boat mind game had always been too much for me: who would you choose if the boat could only save the two of you? Are you fucking kidding me? I’d rather drown, because nobody deserves to die from a choice that someone else had to make, but there’s also that dimension of forcing others to deal with your death, or your body, or whatever the fuck you left open. It’s so complex and terrible and it’s a cycle of unending questions so I just stopped thinking about death altogether. My little brain could only run so far.

I got over it eventually. My dad came back. We all got busy. I wasn’t a kid anymore. I would detach sometimes—a lot, actually. I would miss him on some days in college and my brain would think of the worst possible scenarios. I would come running home, or ask him to meet me. I would have realer, more urgent problems and I would forget about mortality; I wanted to die for about a year in high school and for most of the four years in college, so it was natural to dismiss the idea. I would not give a shit, que sera, sera, I would be strong.

But my dad turned a year older this weekend, and I feel like that child that was so scared of death again.

I thought I had been more open to it after what we went through this year as friends and adults who made the big decisions, but it’s never that easy to say. We’ve talked about the plan and we’ve picked the color of our urns so I feel a little bit braver, but it feels so fucking stupid when it hits that we’ve actually talked about it like it was so easy. As if it was so easy.

As if I’m going to let you die, you fucking idiot.

I can be brave about my own death, but how, when it’s of someone else that I love so deeply?

And how, when it’s me, and I love so painfully?

How, when it’s me...?

It’s chill. I’ll rot, shut down, find the learning somehow, and then live a life and move on. It’s how I rock and how I roll. But in reality and in real time, I am so afraid to live a life without the people that I love by my side. My heart is a well and my brain constantly fails to reach the bottom no matter how hard and how often it tries. It’s a pit that is endless, even after learning personally multiple times that it has to have an end, too.

How, when it’s me...?

It’s chill. I always say and think and believe that it’s chill. It’s chill. I have it. I’ll take care of it. I understand. It’s nothing to worry about. We’re okay. I can fix it. It’s why I do my job so well.

But if I was truly a cool chill person I wouldn’t be as good as I am right now. There is nothing chill about thinking through every possible outcome twice before making a decision and praying that it was the correct one. There is nothing chill about forcing yourself to ignore shit you so badly want to address and to address shit you so badly want to ignore. I am a raging fire of yearning and longing.

I need answers!

I need to find out!

I need to know how much time I have left!

I need to know that you’re helping me, that we’re doing it together, and that you’re in it with me, too!

Because how will I make the correct decision when I don’t have the information?

I am not a child anymore. Funnily enough, lots of pieces of my heart belong to a bunch of other people, which means that the level of grief that I was loosely anticipating as a kid has only multiplied. I think I gave each of the pieces away like a souvenir. I could name a few that I would die and kill and do anything for. That I would grieve for. That are not allowed to get sick or get weaker or get older or get scammed or get into an accident or get into a physical fight or get thrown off a motorcycle. But they still happen and it’s all so unfair.

It shouldn’t be like this. Nothing about it is chill. It’s ironic because loving painfully should somehow always be attributed to braveness, and yet, a lot of what I feel is fear.

I need to be braver than this. I need to love people more bravely than this, even if I don’t have the answers, even if I don’t know the timeline, and even if I’m on my own. I need to be brave enough to accept that love can end the way life does, too, while trusting that at the pit of its death, memory is forever.

To love bravely as much as I love painfully...

To be afraid, but to be brave anyway...

Because we only ever fear death when we have somebody to live for.

At the end of the day, no matter how angry that 12-year-old child in my head is, death is inevitable.

The grief, the love, the wrath, the fear is all part of it. But the weight for those who are left behind is the tricky part. It’s heavy. It’s hard. It’s complicated. It’s fucking sad and it’s frustratingly long. It’s not a decision to make, not an information to process. It just is, and nobody and nothing, not even picking out the color of your urns, can completely prepare you for it.

So it’s in choosing to love bravely, or to at the very least try, that I find peace in thinking about death—that it will come, and it will hurt when it does, but eventually, I’ll be able to carry the weight.

That eventually, I won’t have to ask how, when it’s me? anymore, but already know what to do, to feel, and to be.

That eventually, I won’t have to write an obscenely long essay to understand that I do not have to be chill about it, and that I am allowed to feel like a child about it, because nothing is ever going to be chill about death.

That eventually, I won’t have to stop myself from saying that if I love you, you are not allowed to die, even if it’s not true, because I’m still human, I’m afraid, and I can only be so brave.

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garagedoorsuppliertexas · 1 year

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Let's Fix That

There's nothing worse than having to deal with a broken garage door. It can be frustrating, time-consuming, and expensive. However, most of the issues are relatively simple to fix yourself so if you have a basic knowledge of mechanics and electronics then there's no reason why you shouldn't be able to make these repairs yourself.

In Dallas, Texas, garage door installation is a big business. There are many companies that offer garage door installation services to residents and businesses alike. The cost of these services can vary depending on the type of door you want to be installed and the installation process you prefer. Some businesses will do all the work for you, while others may require that you do some of the work yourself.

There are many things to consider when selecting a garage door installer in Dallas, Texas. You should consult with friends and family members who have used this service before so that you can get a good idea of what is available in your area. If possible, try to talk to someone who has used several different companies so that they can give you an honest opinion about each one. This way you can make sure that your needs are met by choosing the right company for your project!

Why won't my garage door open?

Check the power source. If your garage door doesn't open, check to see if it's plugged into a working outlet.

Check the safety sensors. Also known as photoelectric eyes, these devices are designed to prevent your garage door from closing on people or pets that may be passing through beneath it, but they can also stop an otherwise functional door from moving when they're dirty or misaligned.

Check the track alignment and cables and springs. If the tracks are too far off-center or have fallen out of place somehow, you won't be able to operate them properly—and this is a fairly easy fix!

Check for dents in your panels' aluminum surfaces; these may block light from getting through, disabling the safety sensors and preventing movement altogether until you get them repaired (you'll need a professional for this one).

My garage door makes a lot of noise.

While we're on the topic of noisy garage doors, we're going to get into a few solutions for fixing this problem.

If a spring breaks, your garage door will no longer close all the way and it probably won't go up either. You can replace the broken spring with one from your local hardware store or from us here at Precision Garage Door Service! We'll have it fixed in no time!

If a roller breaks and causes damage to your door, you can easily replace it yourself with some basic tools (or we can do it for you). The roller is located at each end of your door's track. The good news is that they are relatively inexpensive—the bad news is that they wear out quickly over time and may need replacement more often than other parts of the system.

Cables attach two parts together in order to work properly; if one has snapped or become loose due to age, then those two parts might not be able to move smoothly anymore when opening/closing them manually which could cause much more damage down the road like having trouble even getting into another room because there's nowhere else left where someone could access inside safely without risking injury since there isn't anywhere else left where anyone could use as an escape route out safely without risking injury again later when something else goes wrong later on too

My garage door has come off its tracks.

The first step to fixing a garage door that is off its tracks is to find out why it's off the tracks in the first place. This can be accomplished by checking for damaged or broken components, such as the tracks themselves, guide rollers, and springs. It's also important to check the door itself for damage or misalignment problems that may have caused the problem in the first place. Then you'll want to inspect all of the other parts of your garage door system: cables and pulleys; springs; sensors; motors and gearboxes.

I have a problem with my new garage door installation.

If your new garage door installation is not working properly, you can call the installer. If the installer is unavailable or unable to help, you may contact the manufacturer of your new garage door.

If neither of those options works for you, consider contacting a garage door repair specialist or even a garage door dealer in your area. Depending on where they are located relative to where you live, these options may come with different costs associated with them (i.e., travel time). You may also want to check with your local government agency regarding their regulations regarding home repairs or renovations made by unlicensed contractors before hiring someone from outside their jurisdiction

You can fix it!

You can fix it! You can call a garage door repair service. You can hire a garage door installation service. You can fix it yourself. You can buy a new garage door opener. Or, you can buy a new garage door opener kit from us!

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Deep Ellum is a neighborhood in Dallas, Texas that has been a hotbed for the local music scene for the last decade. It's also home to Garage Door Installation Services, which has been providing residents with high-quality garage doors since 1998.

Garage Door Installation Services has been servicing the Deep Ellum community for years, and they have built up an excellent reputation as a reliable provider of garage door services. They have been honored as one of the top 10 garage door services in Texas by The Dallas Morning News, so you know you can trust them with your business or home.

City Center District is a great place to live and work. The area has many shops, restaurants, and other businesses that residents can enjoy. One of the most important businesses for the City Center District is garage door installation services. Garage doors are often overlooked because they do not get as much attention as other things in a home, but they are very important for keeping your home safe from intruders.

Garage door installation services are important for homes in any area because they help keep you safe from criminals who may try to break into your home through the garage door. These services will come out and install a new garage door that will protect both you and your family against intruders. They will also install any locks or sensors you need so that no one can get into your house without permission

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If you're looking for garage door repair services in the area, then look no further than Veteran Garage Door Repair. We specialize in repairing any issues you may have with your garage door and can even install new ones if needed. Our technicians are here to help with any issues that may arise, so give us a call today!

Veteran Garage Door Repair

2821 McKinney Ave #4, Dallas, TX 75204, United States

972-865-6985

Veteran Garage Door

0 notes

bobfloydsbabe · 1 year

Note

this will be my last ask about this. i sent in that ask because you made this whole ass big deal out of a stupid ask talking about periods that did not upset the person it was meant for, which is helena. it is not the first time she talks about it here, by the way. i do not have anger issues, and you can’t look me in the eye and say that asking someone, over an anonymous ask, to, instead of tagging said content, stop talking about it altogether like she owes you anything at all, on her own blog, when her characters are based off a movie with explicit mentions of violence, combat kills and propaganda (because, yes, we all like tgm, but that does not mean i can’t/won’t have any criticism when it comes to it) does not sound incredibly hypocrite and dumb to you. your approach for this situation is what got me mad, and i will be stepping up to defend my friend anytime someone like you demands something from her in her own safe space, especially when it comes to something she struggles with constantly. tumblr has rules when it comes to its users’ age, and if you’re old enough to be here and to think you can demand something from someone you don’t even know, once again, anonymously, then you’re also old enough to know how to use the block button and the filtering feature. tws/dws are nice, but you are responsible for curating your own online experience as well. if you can’t see my point, we can agree to disagree, but do not think a situation like this will ever give you the right to act like that on someone else’s asks. and i’m sure helena will be also curating her own blog experience if that ever bother her again. have a nice day.

lyra

I have nothing to add.

I curate my experience on this hellsite. Certain topics are insanely triggering for me, so if I ever come across them, I scroll/block/filter that content out. The creator is not responsible for how I deal with things that make me uncomfortable. I am. It's on me to not put myself in a position where that will affect me negatively, not the creator.

Lyra, thank you for standing up for me and supporting me in this. I know you would trust me enough to tell me if you disagreed with me, so you're not just jumping into it blindly.

In conclusion: People have periods. Get over it.

#lyra tag #answered #period anon shenanigans #anon idiocy related #mail

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butterppretzel · 3 years

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#I think my deep rooted need to be passive has just lead to my obsession with dating or being interested in people who are like...narcissists #and all that does is further push me into a corner where I'm scared that if I do something that isn't centered to them it will be bad.#I find joy in doing things for other people to the point where I can't comprehend that I can ask for something to be done for me I guess?#Not to mention that people I like are often people who form quick obsessions with people they like #because I know that I'm only interesting for short amounts of time #and eventually either they'll get sick of me and move on or I'll convince myself I can't message them first because I'm annoying and have #nothing interesting to say #and we stop talking altogether. And with friends it's no big deal because they come and go it be like that #even if I do miss my friends so much #but if I date someone I just feed into their perception of themselves and me that they make in their head so they won't leave.#I guess that makes me a little manipulate? Because I'm just. Feeding their egos and sometimes even just straight up lying to them so they #won't leave me. So they won't get mad at me.#I just hate myself so much for the way that I am but I don't know where to start fixing it because all I know is doing things for other #people #idk im tired #delete later

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lothloriien · 3 years

Note

Hey I saw your tips for drawing muslims but do you have any for writing them?

hello hello, thanks for the ask!

WRITING MUSLIM CHARACTERS

stereotypes to avoid

– the “oppressed hijabi” trope

listen, most of us wear hijab because we want to. because we grew up around it. because it’s as natural as wearing a shirt. please stop acting as though we all despise our hijab and our religion

– the “misunderstanding parents” trope

why are all muslim parents emotionally or physically abusive in fiction? i personally have an amazing relationship with my parents. also not all muslim parents are trying to suck the joy out of their children’s lives. they’re just trying to keep their kids safe. also this trope usually gets pretty racist because the reason they don’t understand their child is because they’re “not from here” and “don’t get how things are done” so yknow, avoid that.

– the “abusive dad” trope

listen. i’m fully aware that abusive parents are horrible and something that people should be made aware of, but when every muslim dad in fiction is abusive, that’s just islamophobia. just. give us good relationships with our family!!!

– the “silent mom” trope

how come muslim mothers in fiction have no lines? have no voice? they’re just silent products of a household there to cook and clean. what is that all about?? please. just stop

– the “White Boy Romance” trope

oh, all muslims know where i’m going with this Do. Not. Have. A. Hijabi. Take. Off. Her. Hijab. For. A. White. Boy. please. don’t have her take it off, period. but especially not for romance. actually, if your narrative involves a muslim girl stepping away from her religion and taking off her hijab and realizing she’s happier this way, throw the whole story away. i’m sorry, but if you’re not muslim, this isn’t something for you to write about. this is not your story to write, and writing it will be extremely islamophobic. avoid a typical romance. muslim romances do not occur the way western romances do. either you gotta be okay with that and write it properly, or you should do your best to avoid it altogether.

THINGS TO DO

– let them have friends!! let them have muslim friends!! especially if they live in an area that has a high muslim population.

– let them talk about things that aren’t their religion. listen, my muslim friends and i talk about religion occasionally, but i can assure you, more of our conversation revolves around the hot boy of the week or about whatever shows we’re watching. and in terms of non-muslim friends, religion isn’t a point of tension. we respect and celebrate our differences, and that’s it. we talk about it sometimes, but we don’t argue about it

– make it clear that we’re muslim without just saying it. have us take a step aside to pray. have a character compliment our hijabs. have us fast in ramadan (or make up fasts in the winter). have us eat halal meat. say bismillah before we eat. say alhamdulillah after sneezing or when we’re thankful. subhanallah when we see something beautiful

– we’re not nuns. we find people attractive. we discuss it. it’s not a big deal

– make sure we have a personality that doesn’t revolve around our religion. yes, our religion can be a huge aspect of our identity and life, but no, it’s not the only thing. make them obsessed with a show. give them nervous habits. what do they collect? are they introverted? you tell me!

– avoid intimately close friendships with the opposite gender. casual acquaintances is fine, but this is something i would personally avoid writing if possible

– research what is haram. i’ll give you a basic list:

- pork

- meat that isn’t halal

- gelatin (unless it’s plant gelatin or from a halal store)

- missing prayers

- sex before or outside of marriage

- cheating in any way

- abuse towards your family (yes, this may come as a shock to some, but it’s actually prohibited by islam)

- drinking

- drugs

do more research, of course, but this is a basic list.

i think that about covers it: don’t stereotype us, make sure it’s noticeable that we’re muslims, give us personalities, and make sure we’re avoiding haram stuff

before anyone comes at me: i’m aware that there are muslims who don’t follow the rules and who do haram things and who don’t like their religion and don’t have stable family relationships etc, etc. BUT when that is our only representation in media, it’s islamophobic. show us good muslims, who like their religion, whose religion is their identity, who don’t feel like their religion is causing them to lose out. because we exist.

#muslims on tumblr #muslim tumblr #hijabi dark academia #hijabi tumblr #muslim dark academia #poc dark academia #writing poc #writing muslims #writing tips #writing advice #islam #hijab

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mrsluthordanvers · 3 years

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Everything’s Different

Kara returns from the phantom zone, and some relationships just aren't the same as she left them

Read on AO3

Being sent to the Phantom Zone was Kara’s worst nightmare come true. It had chilled her to the bone. Left her teeth chattering and her muscles aching, even after weeks being back on Earth under the yellow sun. The emptiness had wrapped itself around her, suffocating her, making her lose her way as she stumbled through the darkness, making her lose her grasp on reality.

It haunted her at night. Every time she closed her eyes she was back there, fighting to get back home, fighting for her family. Every night she woke up gasping, feeling small and scared, the noises of the city ringing in her ears. It felt just like when she first arrived on Earth.

The Phantom Zone was her worst nightmare come true, and yet; sitting outside Andrea’s office waiting to be reprimanded feels like a close second.

Not only does Kara not have the Cat Grant article Nia had promised in order to cover for her sudden disappearance. She has to watch Lena sit in one of Andrea’s chairs with her high heels tucked underneath so she can curl up comfortably. One hand lazily looped around a glass of amber liquid as she laughs.

After days of lying alone on a stainless-steel bed under a yellow sun lamp hoping to have a chance to talk to Lena. Praying to Rao for the opportunity to tell Lena her last secret, one she didn’t even know she had until she was navigating the phantom zone alone, grasping to thoughts of her loved ones to make it through. The sight of Lena laughing with another woman, her hand gently squeezing Andrea’s, makes Kara’s heart clench.

She wishes she could slip away. Duck out of CatCo and avoid this situation altogether. But Kara knows that Andrea has already seen her. Just like Cat, Andrea’s office is strategically placed to give her the best vantage point – and put on the best show.

But this is one show Kara would rather not witness.

Kara’s thoughts are spiralling so rapidly now, that she’s missed Lena putting on her heels and walking in her direction.

“Kara?” Lena looks just as surprised to see Kara, she halts in the doorway as Kara stands so abruptly that she has to scramble to keep her notebook from hitting the floor.

“I didn’t know Alex- “Lena quiets as she glances over her shoulder before she steps forward, letting the office door close against her back.

“How are you feeling?” Lena asks so quietly it makes Kara want to rush to comfort her.

“Good.” Kara immediately responds, without giving much thought to the truth of it. Lena’s head tilts in a way that says she knows that too.

“Better.” Kara adjusts, with a slight shrug and a touch to the corner of her glasses.

They stand in silence for a moment, neither one willing to make eye contact and unsure where to go from here.

“I should go-“

“Would you like to-“

Both laugh awkwardly as they finally look at each other.

“Go ahead.” Lena offers.

“I was going to ask if you would like to have lunch with me? If Andrea doesn’t fire me that is.”

“Oh.” Lena pauses as she looks over her shoulder again, arms folding in front of her. “I actually have lunch plans with Andrea today.”

“Oh.” Kara nods aggressively, “Of course, maybe tomorrow? Big Belly Burger?”

For a second Kara thinks Lena looks guilty but it’s gone in a flash.

“Andrea and I– “

“Right.” Kara waves Lena off not wanting to hear the rest, doing her best to ignore how her stomach rolls and her jaw clenches.

Lena turns quickly to give Andrea a wave through the window before she steps around Kara in a cloud of expensive perfume. “I’m really sorry Kara, but I have to go.”

Lena’s gone before Kara can mumble out her understanding.

Taking a deep breath, Kara steps inside Andrea’s office with a light knock.

“I’m not paying you to hide outside my office all day.” Andrea scolds as Kara steps inside. “Ms. Nal told me that you’ve been working on an article with Cat Grant?”

Kara opens her mouth, still unsure of what she’s going to say to get out of this predicament.

“Before you tell me another lie,” Kara tries not to squirm under Andrea’s gaze. “I’m not going to ask where you’ve been. You’re a popular writer amongst our subscribers so I’m not going to make the mistake of firing you... Yet. But you will have to make this up to me. So, for the next month you are taking over the How-To column for Andy. And I don’t want to hear complaints.”

Kara jerks her head understanding and tries to take her leave.

“Kara.” Andrea calls her attention back just as she’s about to push through the door. “Don’t even think about trying to ask Lena to change my mind.”

Kara’s phone breaks in her palm as she exits the office. grabbing her purse on route to the elevator.

“Where are you going?” Nia hisses after her.

“To find a story.”

---

Kara only catches glimpses of Lena at the tower after that. She sees more of Lena on the cover of tabloids at the grocery store than she does in person. Today it’s a red-carpet photo that stares at her across the packs of pop-tarts she has on the conveyor belt. Lena’s turned into Andrea as she looks at the camera over her shoulder. Andrea’s hand sits low on her hip as she looks in the opposite direction, her jawline on full display as she smirks at a different camera.

Kara barely notices when she reaches across to grab the magazine. She does her best not to tear the delicate pages as she rapidly flips through them until she finds another photo. She can feel the heat growing behind her eyes the longer she stares at it. Lena’s posed almost the exact same, but Andrea is leaning in this time to press a kiss to the corner of Lena’s mouth. It’s oddly intimate for a red-carpet photo and it makes Kara throw the magazine onto the conveyer belt next to a case of cookies just to stop looking at it.

---

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” Kara practically throws the magazine on Lena’s coffee table in greeting as she walks in through the balcony doors.

“I’m sorry?” Lena blinks slowly as she looks from the superhero to the magazine that’s fallen open to the picture of her and Andrea.

“You and Andrea are pals now?”

Lena snorts as she untangles herself from the couch to put the kitchen island between them as she starts to make a pot of tea.

“What?”

Kara’s fist clenches as Lena shakes her head. “That might be the only time that has been used correctly by the press.”

Kara watches Lena with a blank face as she looks up from filling the kettle.

“Andrea and I are hardly friends.”

“Then what is it?” Kara asks exasperated, as she slowly approaches the kitchen island but doesn’t sit. “If it’s not Andrea, what is it? Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Andrea’s been helping me.”

“With what?” Kara tries to keep the hurt out of her voice as she takes another step forward, watching Lena scoop some loose tea leaves into a pot and put a strainer over her mug.

“Lex.”

“Lex?” Now Kara’s confused. The tower has been trying to deal with Lex, albeit unsuccessfully.

“Andrea is helping me to take down Lex.”

“I don’t understand... I thought we were taking down Lex together.”

“Lex knows that you’re back from the phantom zone, and he knows I’ve been helping you. I just thought if it looked like I wasn’t helping you anymore he might let his guard down.”

“So, you’ve just been kissing Andrea instead?”

Lena sighs heavily as she pours hot water into the tea pot. “Kara…”

“No.” Kara crosses her arms, “You could’ve told me. I could’ve helped you!”

“I didn’t want you to help me!”

That makes Kara freeze. Her face contorting as she watches Lena snap at her.

“I thought we were over this.”

“It’s not about that.”

Kara doesn’t listen as she turns on her heel, trying not to put a foot through Lena’s floor as she marches to the balcony.

“I love you!”

Kara pauses, one hand on the glass door.

“I didn’t want your help because I love you. And I can’t keep losing you.”

“You love me?” Kara asks as she turns slowly.

“Against my better judgement.” Lena snarks, but it holds no heat as she lifts her chin that Kara can only laugh.

“Are you laughing at –“

“I love you too.” Kara blurts, refusing to let Lena get the wrong idea. “I’ve wanted to tell you for weeks.”

“Oh.” Lena nods to herself as she drops her gaze to pour her tea through the strainer. “That’s good.”

“Lena.” Kara whispers immediately appearing at Lena’s side as she wraps a hand around Lena’s slim wrist. “Look at me.”

Kara uses her other hand to reach for Lena’s chin, a finger gently hooking underneath to move her gaze. When pale blue-green eyes settle on her Kara smiles.

“I love you.” Kara repeats with all the earnestness she can muster. “And I’d really like to be the one to help you take down Lex.”

“Okay.” Lena replies in a hushed tone as she gives Kara a tiny nod.

“You won’t lose me.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

#supergirl #supercorp #nemo writes #119 days since I last posted something to ao3 #this was a lovely request from a follower to add to green eyed monster #always love having fun with this series #hope you enjoy <3 #would love if y'all checked it out

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kenmaskitten10 · 3 years

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Dilf Deku Headcanons

Midoriya Izuku x GN!Reader

warnings: swearing, NSFW themes (nothing graphic just briefly mentioned),brief mention of bullying/scars, idk this is pretty tame nothing is really described... if u don't like dilfs then don't read this :)

a/n: okay! this is my first time writing/publishing anything on Tumblr so please go easy on me haha... I've had ridiculous Deku brain rot lately and I decided I had to jot a few thoughts down. I'm playing with the idea of turning this into a writing blog, but I am undecided! If anyone wants to thirst for one Izuku Midoriya please come talk to me please anyway without further ado here are some Dilf!Deku hcs.... I'm playing around with doing a NSFW version after this so if you would like to see that let me know!

w/c: 1,498

Okay everyone today I want to talk about Dilf!Izuku

This may be controversial but I personally believe that he has the most Dilf potential out of any of the class 1A boys and no I will not be taking criticism at this time

Sorry but even when he’s younger he has Dilf energy - he’s caring, considerate, takes your feelings into account like a dad he just wants to take care of his baby

oh fuck this man no no no

And listen, here me out on this one….. he has more dilf potential than Bakugo and allow me to tell you why

We can all agree that Bakugo has been confident his entire life, so of course he’s going to be confident when he’s older?? duh

But IZUKU is a different story altogether, he’s never felt confident in his life

His whole childhood he was looked down on for being quirkless, and bullied by someone he thought was his friend kachaan

THEN he got a quirk but oh every time he uses it it breaks all his fucking bones and leaves him with all these scars, and he appreciates them because of what they represent but also he’s young when he gets them, he’s already prone to insecurity and when he’s younger ESPECIALLY i think they just remind him of previous failures

He only started to gain a little bit of confidence in his UA days, but it takes time to rebuild yourself after you’ve been torn down for so long, so I honestly imagine he doesn’t even feel an inkling of confidence until his third year or later and even then, it’s new, it’s unfamiliar, he doesn’t totally know how to act

Because yes, by his third year, he’s starting to realize, oh wow okay, I have an incredible quirk and all these new abilities that I can control better, and wow people are paying attention for good reasons , because he’s tall and attractive, probably cuts his hair undercut Izuku supremacy and he’s made some solid friends who help boost his confidence too

But despite all this, deep down he still feels like that quirkless little kid who has to work three times as hard as anyone else and still doesn’t get the recognition he deserves

But OH BOY

DILF IZUKU??? This man is dripping with confidence

he’s older now. he’s overcome a lot. he’s gone to therapy, and worked his way through the pro hero ranks until he earned his number one spot fair and square, that’s something no one can take away from him

He’s loaded now (see below because I go on a whole tangent), he has nice tasteful style that can only come with age and experience

He knows he’s hot now, because its simply no longer something that can be denied, anyone with eyes can see how attractive he is

If he catches you staring at him, he doesn’t shy away. His cheeks might tint slightly, but he stares right back with the biggest smirk on his face. “See something you like, angel?”

Probably finds reasons to show off slightly but he’s Dilf!Izuku so it’s subtle, it’s meant just for you and god does it drive you crazy

The way he’ll reach for and grab at things when he’s around you because he knows you like his hands (he wants to hold your bags and please let him he just wants to feel needed)

They way he stands behind you while you cook, or work, or read…. He sees you sitting or standing so peacefully and he’ll come up behind you to check out what it is you’re doing. He’ll lean down slowly, quietly, stopping when his breath is on your neck and your nose is filled with his scent, and take a quick peek at whatever it is you’re working on. It takes you a moment to turn around, your heart starting to beat faster in your chest due to his looming presence behind you (I DON’T KNOW WHY THIS IS HOT TO ME IT JUST IS OKAY). When you finally turn to face him, his face breaks into a small smile of victory as his strong hand catches your jaw in a gentle grip and he places an achingly soft kiss to your lips before saying “You look so cute when you’re concentrating,”. As you’re about to go in for another, he lets you go and stands up again, his eyes twinkling. “No no, you’re working so hard baby, don’t let me distract you,” WHEN ALL HE WANTED WAS TO DISTRACT YOU and he succeeded and now you’re all hot and bothered, with no hope of resuming what you were doing

Dilf Deku is a tease I know he is but it’s okay he’ll make it up to you later ;)

He’s got shorter, slightly more cropped hair with grey mixed in with the green, his face more lean and angular… not to mention years of pro hero work have toned his body into an absolute work of art I’m gonna pass out just thinking about it

Freckles splashed across his skin like hundreds of little constellations, accented by scars and marks from old wounds (which he’s come to appreciate - they show how hard he’s worked, how much he’s sacrificed to get to where he is now) he’s muscular but I don’t think he’s quite as big as All Might (his fighting style is a lot different so of course he would build muscle in different places) so this means LEGS LEGS LEGS

LEG MUSCLES FOR DAYS

THICK FUCKING THIGHS oh my god

And holy shit his back muscles too WHEW sometimes in the morning when he gets up before you, you watch him sit on the edge of the bed and flex his shoulders and arms to stretch out in the hazy morning light and Jesus Christ

Dilf Deku is older now, he’s spent his entire life working himself too hard and he missed out on a lot of the fun, impulsive, chaotic things young people do, so I think he wants to let loose a little in his older age, have some fun for once

And what’s more perfect than sweet, youthful, tantalizing little you to indulge in ?

He’s so doting, just wants to make you feel special and cared for

And on that note, if you will indulge me for a moment

he’s fucking RICH like

He’s the number one pro hero, he has brand deals on brand deals on brand deals

And I don’t mean to slander All Might and Endeavor, but in terms of a hot, fuckable number one pro hero, Deku has them beat by a landslide so I imagine he has a wider range of brand deals too, because he can sell the sex appeal angle

I mean can you imagine him in interviews? Interacting with fans? Confident yes, but still soft spoken and kind, almost gentle but anyone can tell he’s completely in control, of himself, of the interview, of the audience, this man has the entire country world wrapped around his little finger

All this to say he’s DRIPPING WITH MONEY

he’s like the guy that overtips an OBSCENE amount like if the waiter is really nice he’ll tip like $300 dollars and won’t even blink (I know they don’t tip at restaurants in Japan but this is more for vibes yk)

sugar daddy deku isn’t a stretch it’s a REALITY

Y’all can be officially together or not, either way Deku loves to spoil his precious little y/n

All you have to do is smile sweetly and ask, and he’s absolute putty in your hands

Complies with even the most egregious of your demands, because hey, he has the money to spare, and how could he say no when you look so cute asking so politely?

GOOD TASTE too like he has a lot of money but he knows how to spend it 😏

Additionally he’s, ya know, him, so he’s insanely charitable and donates to charities, go fund me, personal Venmo accounts of fans that need it

if a fan has like a go fund me for some reason that catches his eye, he’s going to donate and he’s going to donate a lot (A LOT)

he doesn’t even do it for the press, he does it bc he’s a good person but my GOD the press eats it up and so do the fans

These hc’s are so self indulgent but all this to say

Dilf!Deku gets what he wants when he wants it and no one is standing in his way

So when he decides it’s you he wants? Well then it’s you he’s going to get!

#bnha #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha x y/n #mha hcs #mha x reader #dilf izuku #izuku midoriya headcanons #deku #dilf deku #deku x reader #deku x y/n #mha #mha x y/n #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x y/n #izuku

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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Count the Shadows - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky wants you to sit on his face.

Warnings: smut, a more dominant reader than I’m used to writing, pining!Bucky, all of the good stuff, second hand embarassment

A/N: so... this is a gift to @navegandoaciegas. She gave me the idea for the Graveyard series ending, and that actually inspired me to keep working on that fic that was supposed to only be a oneshot and then became the pride of my eye. I hope you don’t mind that I’m dedicating this to her 😅 It also allowed me to explore some new kinks that might be appearing thanks to her writing and so really, I felt like this had to see the light of day. But really, if it weren’t for @world-of-aus, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog and @awesomerextyphoon‘s support, I probably never would have had the courage to publish it, so thank you guys so much!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Friday nights at Stark tower meant that something out of the ordinary was about to happen, and I’d already grown used to it, after being a part of the Avengers for the last two months. However, that didn’t mean that the prospect of a night planned by Tony Stark didn’t bring me a hell of a lot of anxiety, to the point where sometimes I’d catch myself wishing for a simple recon mission to take me away for the weekend.

Despite all of my fears and discomfort, I’d been lucky so far. Not once had his attentions turned towards me, and he never even so much as called me to dance with him during one of the raves he liked to organize, so I was able to slip by unnoticed, seizing the opportunity to drink the good (expensive) booze and talk to my friends before retiring for the night.

By Wednesday that week, it was clear that the same couldn’t be said about the next event he’d be hosting.

“Say, Y/L/N, have I thrown you a welcome party?” Was my rude awakening on that fateful morning. Until his arrival, I’d been happily whipping up some pancakes for the supersoldiers and Sam, my morning run partners. The moment his question was processed in my brain however, I froze on my spot, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Oh, now, don’t give me that look. When have I ever thrown a bad party?”

Bucky choked on his coffee, and I immediately was by his side, lightly tapping his back to help him. “I guess this answers your question,” I joked, but with a serious face. Unfortunately, Tony simply rolled his eyes, too used to Bucky and I’s “antisocial behavior”, like he usually described, to give us any attention. “Okay, so maybe not bad, but if you’re going to throw a party using me as an excuse, I have at least one request. And it’s a dealbreaker for me.”

Something in my words truly interested Tony, because instead of brushing me off he actually turned to face me, raising his eyebrows in expectation. “So what you mean is that if I don’t give you what you want, you won’t join the party?”

I nodded, standing my ground. “That’s right.” Next to me, Bucky stood straighter in his chair.

“Neither will I.” That brought a smile to my lips, and I turned to hug him quickly.

“Thanks Buck,” I whispered in his ear, relishing in the way he always held onto my embrace just a second longer than I expected. It was always like this with us. Ever since I first noticed just how touch-starved the super soldier was, I’d find little excuses to touch him. And if I ever doubted my first assumption, the way he always chased away my warmth for just a second longer was enough to prove to me that I was doing something right.

“Very well,” Tony said after clearing his throat to regain my attention. “What’s your request?”

“Only the people who live in this tower can be invited.” I was expecting a lot of fuss from the billionaire, but surprisingly, all I got was a disappointed sigh.

“Figured as much. Okay, big shot. But here’s the deal: you’ll have to stay the entire night and participate in every game we decide to play.” I shrugged, taking a sip of my coffee. That sounded fair. “It’s a deal then! All you have to do is be here on Friday night, capisce? Don’t be late.”

I should have known something was up back then, but as it were, I was just happy that I was able to stop him from filling the Tower with people I didn’t know. Not only would it help to keep Bucky relaxed (and perhaps even allow him to enjoy himself for once!), it’d also help to keep myself relaxed.

I’d never been one to enjoy big crowds, and I especially didn’t want to celebrate joining the team with people who weren’t even a part of it. It made sense. So when Friday night rolled around, it found me in a way better mood than I expected. I even accepted Nat’s suggestion and let her pick my clothes. I was feeling so great, in fact, that I felt bolder, brave enough to accept to wear a satin red dress with a deep neckline that seemed to be able to attract every man’s attention upon seeing me.

Even Bucky seemed drawn to it. And I couldn’t deny that knowing I held that sort of power even to a man of his caliber, a man that attractive, made me feel even braver. But with braveness comes stupidity, and I was brutally reminded of that fact by Tony’s smug face when I heard the dare he had for me.

Listen, I would have never accepted the idea of fucking truth or dare if it wasn’t for this stupidly sexy dress. I mean, the powers that clothing can have… They can make you blind with clout. That’s the only way I could justify what happened next.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I argued, much to Tony’s (and the rest of the team’s) amusement. Each and every single one of them looked at me with barely contained laughter, with the exception of Bucky, apparently.

“Careful, sweetheart… The dare’s already on and that wasn’t very sexy of you.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I very carefully thought out my gameplay here. I could very well retreat to my bedroom and go to sleep. But then again, this whole night had been so fun, and Tony had been really nice to abide by my wishes to only invite people that I knew…

“Fine. I’ll spend the rest of the night being as blunt as possible as I hit on you guys. After all, this is probably the only way you’ll ever get to hear me talking dirty, huh?” And with a wink in Tony’s direction, I resigned myself to face the challenge ahead. “So, let’s get on with this orgy, shall we?”

Bucky’s P.O.V.

It’s not that I was jealous. Of course, I wasn’t jealous. It’s just… hearing her say those things in front of everyone else made my blood boil like nothing else. I knew it wasn’t my place to feel this way. It’s not like she owed me anything, much less attention. As much as I wanted, she wasn’t mine, or even close to that.

Despite being head over heels in love with her, I still hadn’t gathered enough courage to even ask her out for a cup of coffee - or anything else, for that matter. And the worst part was that everyone but her seemed to know about my feelings. Which made this whole night even worse, since I was pretty sure Tony had done all of this on purpose.

So I had to sit through a lot of “Oh, please fuck me”, and “I wouldn’t kick you out of bed,” none of which were addressed to me - and those were the least graphic ones. I couldn’t really blame her, since I hadn’t spoken a single word from the second this whole dare started, but still, I was sulking, and I knew it.

In fact, I was so lost inside my own head, that I didn’t even realize what had happened when she asked “Do you want me to sit on your face or what?” (which I’m pretty sure was directed to Sam) until a heavy silence took the place of the animated chatter that had been going on. Imagine my surprise when I realized everyone was staring at me.

“What?” I asked, my heart already beating out of control, looking from one face to the other in the hopes of grasping what I had lost in the conversation.

“You just said you wanted Y/N to sit on your face,” was the response I got, from no other than Sam himself, and if my heart had been pounding on my chest only seconds before, now it felt as if it had stopped altogether.

“You’re crazy,” I tried to joke, trying with all of my might not to look at the woman who was staring at me. I could feel her gaze on my face. It burned and I ached to look, to see what sort of expression she was wearing, but my anxiety was just too strong - stronger than my curiosity ever could be.

“I wish I was, man. But you literally just answered ‘Please sit on mine’ when she asked if she could sit on my face.” I was going to die. I was sure of it. My face felt so warm, there was no way I wouldn’t just spontaneously combust any second now.

The worst part was, I knew Sam was telling the truth. Because those were the precise words I thought the second that I heard the offer leave her beautiful lips. And now I didn’t know what to do.

“Fine, your room or mine?” She broke me out of my self-deprecating thoughts, surprising me so much that I automatically raised my eyes to meet hers, finding her looking down at me with a mischievous smirk on her lips. Was she joking? Was this part of the dare?

The room erupted on laughs and I forced myself to join them, praying to whoever was available up in the heavens that they would let me be and thankfully, soon enough, the conversation smoothly transitioned away from me and my stupid malfunctioning. Y/N didn’t look in my direction again, which helped with my task of trying to get my breathing pattern into a normal one once more, and in a half hour people were breaking up into small groups and going back into their own rooms for the night.

I figured it was safe to do the same. So I got back to my bedroom’s floor with my hands buried deep in my pocket, trying to figure out what the hell had happened that night, when the door to my room suddenly opened and a tiny hand wrapped around my wrist, hauling me as best as they could into my own living quarters.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Bucky looked beyond surprised as he stared down at me with his mouth hanging open. I was tempted to tease him about letting flies in if he stayed like that, but I didn’t want to make this any more difficult for him than it clearly already would be. To be honest, I also had no idea how I’d been able to move that mountain of a man.

“What are you doing in my room?” Oh, right. That’s what he was concerned about. Fair enough.

“I wanted to show you something.” By the way he opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally being able to say anything else, it was clear that it wasn’t the answer he was expecting, but then again, he obviously wasn’t expecting me to be in his room.

“W-What?”

I grinned, immediately curling my fingers on the edge of my dress before promptly pulling it over my head and sending it flying across the room. Bucky’s jaw dropped, and it only made my smile grow bigger as I quickly got rid of my bra before finally doing the same to my underwear.

“What? Did you think I would let you suffer?” The poor thing, he didn’t seem capable of answering at all, eyes the size of plates as he stared at my naked body, practically drooling. I ran my hands over my breasts, cupping them slightly before trailing further down.

“Did you think I’d let Sam learn what my pussy tasted like? Or Steve? No, no, no, James. This is for you and you only.” Burying a finger inside of me, I made sure to let out my loudest, most pornographic moan as I slowly thrusted it once inside of me before raising it to his face.

“See how I’m soaked? I always get like this when I’m near you.” Bucky actually whimpered, knees faltering for a second as he reached out to grab a hold of himself with the wall next to us, and I laughed before raising a challenging eyebrow in his direction. “What are you waiting for? Get on your knees.”

My breath hitched as I watched the mountain of a man before me literally do exactly that, hypnotizingly staring at the space between my legs before slowly meeting my eyes with a look of pure need in his perfect face. Jesus. How the fuck was I supposed to control myself when he was looking at me like that?

I had gathered the sense that Bucky wanted me, that much became clear tonight, but I had no idea the extent of his desire until just then. Until he looked at me with pupils dilated from under his stupidly long eyelashes, breath coming out from his open mouth like he was desperate for me, desperate to taste what I had to offer.

He looked like he would do anything I asked him to in that second, and the feeling of power that thought gave me left me horny as nothing else. So my first order of business was to command, “Eat me.”

The second the words were out, it was clear that was all he was waiting to do what both of us so clearly wanted. Two strong hands grabbed me from behind and with that grasp of my ass, he pulled me to him until I was in fact seated on his face, wholly dependent on his muscular body to keep me up.

“Oh God,” he was the one to whisper, and a shiver ran through my body as he licked my pussy from clit to hole before diving in as if he was determined to rid me of all of my wetness - knowing fully well it was an impossible task.

Bucky Barnes didn’t need any guidance in the art of eating pussy, that quickly became clear to me, but I still felt the need to grab a hold of his hair just to help keep myself grounded into the reality of this moment. The way he moaned against my cunt at the action, the vibrations running through my body and making me tremble on top of him, certainly didn’t make me regret any part of my decision. It was clear he liked that sting of pain.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

I was having a hard time believing this was really happening, even though I had Y/N’s completely naked body on top of me, her cunt spread open by my own tongue, her juices covering every inch of my tongue. I couldn’t even convince myself to close my eyes to fully enjoy her taste, too preoccupied with memorizing every little thing about this moment.

And the second she opened her eyes to find me already looking up at her, I was particularly glad for my decision, if only because I got to witness the delicious smile that took over her beautiful face before she grinded her pussy against my lips.

“Fuck, you look so good like this. I could get used to this.” A jolt ran through my body at the implications of what she was saying. Before I could even fully process it, I was already responding with the only thing that occupied my mind then, “Please do.”

If I thought I would scare her away with my desperation, a delighted giggle immediately managed to calm my nerves. “Do you always say what you’re thinking?” She asked, still rubbing herself against me, so it took me a while to be able to moan against her wetness an honest, “Yes.” When I did though, the vibrations managed to be exactly what she needed to gush her release onto my waiting mouth, making me growl in excitement. She was so fucking sweet. My cock was so fucking hard it hurt, but all I could think about was how much I wanted to pleasure her, how much I never wanted this night to end.

Unfortunately for my plans, she decided to climb down from me, eyes drinking my kneeling position while she caught her breath for a bit before she threw herself on my bed, feet on the mattress so I’d get a perfect vision of her perfect pussy. Hypnotized, I didn’t even notice I’d gotten up and approached her until her voice broke me out of my reverie.

“Would you like to take a picture?” I knew she was joking, but there was no way I’d miss the slightest possibility of getting at least a permanent reminder of this night, so I answered as truthfully as possible yet again, “Of course. Would you let me take one?”

I was expecting her to laugh it off and move this along, but once more her answer surprised me. “Only if you promise me you won’t use it to jerk off to.” The confusion must have been clear in my expression, because she quickly added, “That’s what I’m here for.”

My heartbeat picked up as I struggled to process her words. “D-Does this mean you’ll want to do this again?” I watched as a small smile grew on her lips and she sat up on the mattress before reaching out to me.

“Every night, if you’ll have me.”

Another moment of silence as I struggled to accept that this was real, that this was really happening.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t contain my delighted giggles at the lovestruck expression on Bucky’s eyes. But my need for him was growing deeper every second, so while he stared I reached out for his jeans, quickly managing to unzip them and push them down until I could wrap my hands around his member.

“Jesus, you’re so hard.” Even without any actual stimulation, apparently just giving me pleasure was enough to get him ready for me. I could barely wait to feel his cock inside of my pussy.

“I-I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered while climbing on the bed and settling between my thighs. “I’ve been dreaming about this for the longest time.” Gosh, could he be any more perfect?

“Well, it’s happening now, James. Please, please, fuck me. I need your cock in me.” His lips looked wet from our earlier activities, and my gaze immediately fell on them when he gasped at my words and the feeling of his cock rubbing on my pussy. When I positioned the head and pulled him closer to me, signaling what I wanted, he followed without any resistance, his entire body trembling as he struggled to keep himself up with both hands on either side of my head.

“You’re doing so great, baby. God, it feels so good to be with you like this.” Apparently, Bucky grew tired of fighting against his own body, since he allowed his massive frame to fall just over mine, resting his forehead on mine.

“Fuck.” Hearing the word whispered so close to me, his warm breath dancing over my skin, while he was effectively about to do just that, felt incredibly arousing for something so small. “It’s like I can’t get close enough to you.”

In the search to feel more connected to me, he finally started thrusting, and then it was like I’d forgotten to speak altogether. Only able to hold tight to those shoulders that tempted me for so long, I struggled to keep the moans and whimpers inside so I could continue to hear the little breathless whispers that he was releasing, almost like he was speaking to himself…

“So wet…” It all only made me more desperate for the enchanting man on top of me, so beautiful, and yet so insecure of his own allure. I hoped after tonight he’d start understanding just how attractive he truly was, at least to me.

“Bucky…” I managed to whisper, calling out for his attention and earning it when his eyes snapped open to meet mine. “Bucky, kiss me.” I needed to feel those lips against mine, to have that one sweet gesture of entwinement that we still hadn’t shared. Apparently, he felt the same need, because in a second, he was onto me, mouth slowly prying mine open so his tongue could explore yet another part of my body that now belonged to him.

By then, he couldn’t contain his moans anymore, and I was grateful that I was still able to keep mine low so I wouldn’t miss the symphony of whimpers and whines, especially after he pulled away to catch his breath and his eyes met mine.

“Fuck, darling…” Each sound from his lips made my pulse grow quicker, my body warmer, that incredible high closer and closer to me. And still, because I needed to tease him, I found myself saying, “For someone who was so embarrassed about the team knowing you wanted me, you surely can be loud.”

Bucky hid his head on the crook of my neck, making goosebumps rise all over my body as he rubbed his nose against my skin, breathing me in. If I thought it was a gesture of shyness, his next words assured me that wasn’t the case at all.

“I want them to hear. I want them to know I’m yours.” The confession had the fire of desire burning brighter inside of me, and my hands slipped around his back, certainly leaving nailprints behind.

“Oh, is that it? You’re mine now, James?” The thought thrilled me to no end, but I needed him to say it, not only because I wanted to be sure there was no uncertainty in his feelings for me, but also because it made me even weaker for the soldier and the dominance he had over my body.

“C-Can I be? Please?” There was so much vulnerability in his beautiful blue eyes that the only answer I managed to give at first was the connection between our lips again, pulling him down to me so our bodies were completely glued to one another once more. My fingers buried in his locks, I pulled on them when I needed to gather some air, and finally give him an actual answer.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Hell fucking yes. We’ll be the hottest couple on Earth.” A shiver went through my body at the realization that she truly wanted this, that she truly wanted me. A sound escaped my lips before I could realize, and in fact, I only noticed it because she broke me out of my reverie by saying, “You know, everytime you whine, I have the overwhelming urge to just tie you down to this bed and give you a reason to do so.”

Shit. This woman made me weak. And the moment I lost control of my own weight, she took advantage of it, inverting our positions so she was the one on top, while managing to keep my cock nestled deep inside of her.

“Do you want to cum, sweetheart?” Hearing the filthiness that spilled out of her lips only made me hotter and hotter, my hands flying up to hold her waist as she began to ride me. “Tell me just how badly you want it. Say it, or I’ll leave you right here, right on the edge of bliss, and I’ll cum on your thigh instead.”

I heaved loudly, trying to force my own tongue to work, but the sight of her breasts bouncing with her movements was too hypnotizing. I would never regain full control of my body again, I realized, for as long as she wanted to keep me around. But instead of feeling lost, like I did when the Winter Soldier took over, all I could feel was peace.

She wanted me. She wanted my body, my soul, every part of me. Despite every missing piece, every scar. Everything anyone had ever done to me, everything I’d done to so many. And I’d gladly give it all to her, forever.

“Please, please let me cum, ma’am.” The name left my lips before I could realize, but it made her smile. And right then, I knew I’d done the right thing. Her movements picked up, her hand searching mine to guide my thumb to meet her nub, and as soon as I started rubbing it, she gasped in the most melodic of sounds.

“Cum for me, James. I wanna feel you cumming inside of me.” Jesus fucking christ. I didn’t have a choice, my body reacting to her calling like she was a siren and I was helpless. I felt helpless. It wasn’t difficult to see that I liked it, though. I liked being under her control. I liked how she pulled me apart and held me in place all at the same time.

“If you don’t take your thumb away, so help me God.” Her voice broke me out of my thoughts, realizing her chest was heaving with the effort to breathe properly now that she’d reached her climax with me. I smiled sheepishly before adjusting on the bed, right when she climbed down from my body, and a whine escaped my chest despite my better wishes, making her look at me with an amused smile.

“I’m sorry, I just… I kinda miss you already.” Her smile grew bigger, her eyes twinkling under the moonlight as she leaned over me to kiss me, and I couldn’t help it. I just had to hug her closer, have her falling on top of my chest just so I could invert our positions and kiss her some more.

“I want something that’ll show them I’m yours.” I admitted once she pulled away to gather her breath, and her eyebrows rose in surprise, but also interest, I could tell.

“Like a collar?”

“I was thinking more like a love bite, but I don’t mind.” Her giggle was the most adorable sound in the universe, I was sure of it.

“Baby, I’ll let you fuck me in front of them, if it’ll help your insecurity,” she soothed me, and the thought of having everyone see us together, fully understand that I belonged to her, electrified me. “You’re mine now. You can be damn sure if anyone tries to flirt with you, they’ll have to deal with me. And I’ll make sure they know I’m yours and only yours if they try to chat me up.”

The thought made me smile, and I laid back on the bed and pulled her to rest against my chest, my hand instinctively coming up to play with her hair. “I can get used to that.” We stayed like that for a while, just breathing in each other’s presences, relishing in the comfortable silence between us, until I felt the need to break it.

“Can I kiss you again?” I felt her smile against my skin, before she pushed away to reach for me and connect our lips once more. God, I don’t think I’d ever get used to knowing I could have this anytime I wanted. “One more,” I begged when she pulled away, and she pretended to think for a moment before shooting me a mischievous grin.

“Only if you come fuck me in the shower.”

The only thing I could think to say in response, as I watched her strut in the direction of the bathroom, was “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

#my fics #bucky barnes smut #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader inserts #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes oneshots #I'm gonna reblog it with the taglists later

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hanibalistic · 3 years

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#5B52AD | NA JAEMIN. NCT DREAM.

genre | fluff, friendship

word count | 2835

warning | a fever, mention of pain

note | i got kind of sick after my first dose of vaccine and i think about is my mother used to sit and rub my tummy whenever i get tummy ache even when it’s 3am.

your body felt heavy, you could not walk without an awkward arch of your back and at an annoyingly slow pace. you haven't gotten a migraine in so long that the gentle ringing in the back of your head now felt like a gradual decomposing of your brain. your tummy gurgled obnoxiously from time to time, confusing your body and mind with hunger and pain.

long story short, you were sick. you got sick, unfortunately, after a streak of good health for the past years, and you barely knew how to take care of yourself now because of how unusual the occurrence was.

you suspected it was the pouring rain you walked under the other day, or the multiple cold nights you've stood through in the unorganized tent area backstage during award shows this past few weeks. either way, since there weren't any other possible reasons, bad weather was the only thing you could blame your sickness on.

you had contacted the team manager about taking a few days off, leisurely estimating your return date while the manager told you to take your time and make sure to only work once you have fully recovered to avoid spreading your sudden fever to the dreamies when you get back. another thing you also asked of, with more grit and firmness this time, was to make sure the manager leak not a single word of you being sick to the boys.

it was true that you have not been sick in a long while, but so far you have gotten a grip on how it works and adapted to being uncomfortable and alone. reminding yourself to take those over-the-counter medicines was annoying but doable. moving around the apartment so you could cook and clean was exhausting but also doable. you did not need an extra pair of hands; it would definitely be good to have one, but you could survive without one.

you knew very well if the boys knew that you caught a fever, they would insist on visiting and taking care of you.

they would probably try to pull up to your apartment with some homemade soup and old movie discs, rambling on and on about sneaking out and forcing the driver to come to your apartment estate, complaining about you keeping everything a secret from your friends. then they'd get unreasonably mad at you for not visiting a doctor, and they'd force you to stay in bed while promising to take care of everything. they would be loud, and destructive, and annoying and—ugh! everything you do not need when you have a fever burning on your head!

"oh, finally!" you groaned in tired delight when you heard the doorbell ring. you have been waiting on the jajangmyeon takeout you ordered about fifteen damn minutes ago (to be fair, it felt like two hours with that migraine in your head).

shaking the shiver off your back when you stood on the cold wooden tiles with your bare feet, you grimaced at the pair of fuzzy socks you previously pulled off out of spontaneity, not wanting to bend down to get them from the ground. you stepped on then as you moved begrudgingly from the messy couch, where your blanket and tons of pillows resided, to the front door.

you unlocked your door with some trouble, finding it hard to stand on your legs and twist the lock. when you slowly swung open the door, you muttered, "sorry for the delay, it's kind of hard to–huh."

you cut yourself off when you saw the sight of renjun handing cash to your delivery man and patting him on the back as he bowed and left your house with your jajangmyeon. your eyes pulled back to look at the bigger picture—four people present before your apartment door, all wearing the same reaction to your figure uncared for.

renjun has turned his attention back from your delivery man and his grimace deepened when he saw your red face. donghyuck pulled a face at you when he saw your terrible posture and dead expression, and he tightened his grip on the small bag in his hand. jeno was frowning in disapproval with one brow raised as if you were spreading the bacteria to him but he was too polite to cover himself up. jaemin looked like he didn't want to be here, like always, but for a moment you saw his eyes flicker with soft concern over your visibly sick posture.

you sneered. that bastard! the manager snitched on you and here came the power rangers of the 2000s judging you at your front door! you would not take this absurdity!

"goodbye," you muttered blandly before you went ahead to close the door on their faces, but a hand swiftly reached out and blocked the door frame from meeting its end.

jeno smiled casually at you from the side, his arm muscle flexing as he, with no effort against your sickened strength, pushed the door open. you attempted to struggle against him, but obviously you were of no match for him, riddled with a fever or not.

"lee jeno," you warned.

"[full name]," he returned.

you clicked your tongue. you were too dizzy to get angry, but the rumbling inside your chest sounded anyway so you wouldn't be so overwhelmed by the boys' relentless care that you forget you didn't like this nor want this, that this wasn't ideal for you.

"please leave," you asked. "i don't need help."

"no. we're coming in whether you like it or not, [name], so give it up," donghyuck mentioned as he gently brushed past you into the apartment. "and before you ask–no, we are not leaving. we got our phones, and we brought movies. we also have to take care of you, so we got plenty to do here. we won't get bored."

you rolled your eyes as the rest of the boys followed behind. kicking their shoes off and placing them neatly to the side, they slowly began acting as if they were back in their humble abode.

donghyuck headed over to the coffee table before your couch. he grimaced at the sight of falling blankets and unorganized pillows as he placed the bag on the surface, then he turned to renjun, "renjun, where do we put the soup?"

"not on the coffee table, take it to the kitchen!" renjun exclaimed as he pointed aimlessly at a spot.

donghyuck listened. as he made his way to your open kitchen, he began rambling off. "you know, i can't believe you didn't tell us you were sick. i knew something was up when you were absent for more than a day!"

renjun nodded in agreement as he crossed his arms, looking to you with a semi-displeased expression. "he is right. we are all friends here, you should tell us if you need some help."

just having them around your apartment was enough to make you want to jump out the window. it was nothing personal against the boys, though. you would have felt the same with just about anybody who dared enter your territory when you felt uncomfortable. but the way they never stop talking—ugh, it made you want to end it altogether so you didn't have to listen to their voices overlap each other in such annoying frequency.

"if i needed help, i would have asked," you dragged out through gritted teeth.

donghyuck snickered from the sink, rolling his sleeves up and getting ready to do the unclean dishes. "oh yeah, that's why you have no clean bowl and spoon to use!"

"also, why are all your stuff here on the couch, [name]?" jeno complained as he picked up your heavy blankets in his arms. he popped his head out from the side and eyed you. "i'll take them back to your room, you should stay in bed!"

jaemin leisurely approached the coffee table, his face was bland with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. despite acting like he didn't want to be here, his curiosity to know whether you were doing well alone was killing him inside; you weren't, it appeared. he gazed around your apartment with feign disinterest before an opened box caught his eyes.

bending down to pick up the medicine, he furrowed his brows and turned to you. "these aren't doctor prescribed medicine."

ignoring the drowsiness in your eyes, you looked at the displeasure on jaemin's face before you sighed, "i didn't see a doctor."

"you what?" jaemin exclaimed in disbelief while the rest of the boys gasped in what sounded to be disapproval.

there it went. there came the wave of complaints and disagreement piling out of their mouths like rainwater flooding into the ditch. the migraine in your head magnified the more frustration built up inside you, trying to force you to explode on the boys who only meant well.

"yes, i didn't visit a doctor. stop making a big deal out of it," you retorted, straining your voice to make yourself heard. "do you know how expensive an appointment at the clinic is?"

"still! it's always better to visit a doctor!" renjun pointed out softly.

the others agreed with him like dominos, opinions falling on top of each other in the form of noises. you closed your eyes in hopes to cancel their presence, but they've been talking nonstop it felt impossible to ignore them.

their voices were adding to your nausea, too many words to understand and to process that you felt useless not being able to retain their words as quickly as usual. it made you want to vomit, it made your chest tighten, it made your tummy hurt.

"god... please... shut up," you muttered under your breath as you glared at the floor. "shut up... stop talking... stop talking!"

the heat burst.

"[name]..." jaemin began cautiously, dropping the empty box of pills on the table as he eyed you sturdily.

you grimaced; your lips quirking down in guilt and your eyes darting elsewhere but their faces. seeing their innocent, good-intentioned, widened eyes would just make you feel like a bad person more than anything. shaking your head, you waved your hand at them dismissively and proceeded to turn away.

"thank you for coming, but please leave because i don't need your help," you said, "i'm gonna go to bed. lock the door when you leave."

the boys watched you move back to your room slowly, still surprised at your sudden outburst. they half-expected something like this to happen, but not exactly the way it turned out. they did come here fully prepared to be kicked out kindly knowing well your inability to accept aid from others, but the event has taken a turn for even worse, it seemed. they had not expected you to yell at them.

donghyuck turned away from the sink, his confused gaze darting between the door to your bedroom and the rest of his friends. "we're not actually leaving, right?"

"no, but we will leave them alone," jeno mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. "for now, at least."

jaemin's eyes trailed after your steps and they have yet to tear themselves away from your bedroom door.

he knew you well, better than the rest of his friends if he could say so. even though you might have meant what you said, you wouldn't do anything if they refuse to listen. and the consequences of adhering to your request and leaving you alone when you just did something you didn't want to would outweigh those of them not listening to you.

you don't need help, you never ask for them, whatever reason that was. but you do want them when they were presented to you. he knew that much, at least.

"jaemin, where are you going?" jeno asked when he saw his friend shuffling across the small living room.

nobody talked when jaemin moved to your room and knocked on your door. he pushed it open without waiting for your permission, and the stifled cries stayed beneath the walls unknown to the outsiders. he softened at the sight of you helplessly rubbing your tears with your forearm, wanting nothing more than to coddle you, but he leaned against the door instead.

"feeling bad now, are we?" jaemin said to catch your attention.

your head hurt, the pain was piercing. but nothing shattered you more than realizing you were a bad person for refusing help from good people who cared about you, realizing the mortifying cycle of loneliness you cannot thrust yourself out of because you could not accept any form of good social interaction. you were never one to cry from those whimsical things, you were used to it, but the thought of your friends shuffling out of your apartment and leaving the area dead cold made you cry.

you still have them now, but for how long, really? how many more "leave me alone" and "i don't want your help" would they take until they truly leave you alone for good?

you sobbed out breathlessly, your words continuously getting cut off against your will. eventually, you made out a sentence.

"jae-jaemin, my head hurts."

like a sharp shot through his heart, jaemin wavered and crumbled. he wasn't sure if this kind of melting was good, but he was taking the ache along with him. he approached you swiftly and sat down on the edge of your bed, a spoiled gaze dawning within his eyes while he moved his hand to your head, threading his fingers through your hair and messaging your scalp.

"try going to sleep, it'll help," he coaxed.

the more you cried, the more he sunk himself onto your bed. he kept his head high up against the headboard of your bed, and he let you snuggle close against his side for comfort. your head hastily leaned against his chest, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to focus on the rhythm of which he scratched your head dotingly.

"shhh, it's okay," he hushed, reaching his free arm over you to pat your back. "it's going to be okay."

jaemin was always so kind. everyone was always so kind. with their homemade soup, their refusal to abandon you at a tough spot, their snark remarks against your constant attacks, their nagging and coaxing—they were your friends.

you never knew why it took so much effort to get it into your head that they were going to be here whether you wanted them to or not. when you pushed them away, they would push back ten times harder, however many times they needed to. they knew you hated blatant affection so they never show it, nor do they make you show it, but it was here. flowing between their heads was love, discreet love, love that sat in patience, understanding, and stubbornness.

you pack a mean punch, but they could take it.

"jaemin... how are they doing?"

jaemin looked up from your sleeping face to find donghyuck at the door. his hands were wet from messing around in the kitchen, and he wiped them clean on his pants as he quietly approached the bed to take a peek at you. he raised his brow when he saw your face smushed against jaemin's chest and hidden under your arm, then he signed.

sleeping, huh. good. he heard you cry from outside a while ago, everyone did. nobody said anything about it and the living rooms were hushed quieter until your sobs gradually calmed down.

"are you going to stay here?" donghyuck asked after he pulled away. "you might get sick."

"yeah," jaemin nodded down at you, "i might."

donghyuck pursed his lips together, then he shrugged. "alright, i'll leave you then. do you want me to turn the lights off?"

"no, i don't want to fall asleep," jaemin said, stroking your head gently. then he nudged his chin toward donghyuck. "i do want my phone though."

donghyuck scoffed when he was by the door. he was only gonna turn the lights off because it would help you, so if that wasn't needed...

"interesting," he said. "i'm not your errand boy, though. you can stay bored."

jaemin held back a hiss when donghyuck ran out to the living room. he grimaced after the opened door, eyes wide in annoyance that donghyuck left the lights on and the door open, that irresponsible bastard! and he wouldn't even run to get a phone, which would only take a couple of steps!

turning his attention, he glanced down at you instead and breathed out a sigh. he wasn't going to be on his phone for long anyway, he just wanted to tell jisung and chenle you were doing okay. other than that, he has the plan to stare at you until you wake up—your scrunchy nose and closed puffy eyes were abnormally adorable, he has to admit.

"yeah, i'll get him," jaemin whispered playfully down at you. "we'll get him when you wake up."

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Nobody Compares

Day 22, Story #1 is by @arianatwycross

Title: Nobody compares Author/Artist: arianatwycross.tumblr.com Pairing: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger Prompt: In Vino Veritas (under the influence) Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): n/a

Hermione admits to kissing Ron, brags about him to Sarah and her friends. They don’t believe her because she’s acting so out of character.

Ron comes up from behind her and kisses her neck.

Her friends gasp loudly and she smiles at their shocked expressions. She doesn’t give them time to question her properly, instead she spins around and places her hands on his chest.

He’s smiling down at her, his eyes a little glassy from the alcohol. He bends down to whisper something in her ear and Hermione can’t help but bite her lip and nod back.

Hermione wasn’t surprised that Ron got signed young. He had the sort of edge a football player needs in the modern world, the passion to do more while simultaneously keeping a smart head, his humour, his witty but sensible remarks about teammates and competitors. She wasn’t surprised when he got picked for the first team, the team he grew up supporting, watching on TV and following in magazines.

She was surprised however, at how easily it was for them to drift apart. She always thought that they would be able to overcome issues like time zones and schedules, but she was wrong. Hermione graduated University with a first in Law, and was on her way to study her Master’s in London and Ron was upping his training and committing to the first team at Manchester United.

At the beginning they emailed and texted frequently, while Hermione was still settling into her Bachelor’s degree and Ron was still playing for the Under 23’s. But in Hermione’s second year, her course load increased and she had barely had time to even watch a single tv show. Ron tried his best to see her on his weekends off, but in the end Hermione convinced him it wasn’t worth it. The conversations over email and phone started to dwindle to monthly, then every few months and then finally they stopped altogether.

Hermione did mourn their friendship for a long time. She blamed herself mostly, she knew she was the one that had a bit more freedom to call him when she could. Ron was too busy dealing with training schedules and away games to think about calling his best friend from secondary school.

It had been four years since she had seen Ron. She still thought about him at times, how could she not when he was one of the most famous football players in the country? Sometimes she saw him in the sports section of the newspaper or saw him on the TV. She was a self-proclaimed Manchester United fan and so she saw him play every game on the TV. Her friends had no idea they were best friends just a few years ago, they had no idea that he was Hermione’s first love. No one knew that, not even Ron.

So when she walked into the pub down the street one Friday night, and found him standing at the bar she froze. Every muscle in her body just stopped, only her heart thumped heavily in her chest. There he was, back leaning against the bar, red hair still cut short, shoulders a little bit broader, arms definitely more toned, the same cheeky grin plastered on his face. Her heart flipped and cracked all at the same time.

She hadn’t seen him for four years and on a random Friday night she runs into him? She quickly looked at Sarah next to her, glaring at her as if she had planned this. Sarah of course, did not. Sarah had no idea that Hermione was friends with the famous Ron Weasley.

“Oh my god, is that Ron Weasley? Doesn’t he play for Man U Hermione? You support them don’t you?”

Hermione just stared at Ron, her eyes drinking in the mannerisms she hadn’t seen in years. The cross of his arms across his body, the tilt of his smirk as he listened to his mates next to him.

“Hermione?’

“Right, yeah that’s him”

“Shall we say hello?”

“No!” Hermione quickly interjects and steers Sarah away from the bar and towards a booth on the opposite side. She can still see him from where she sits but he can’t see her without turning around.

Sarah gives Hermione a bewildered look.

“Bit of a fangirl are we?” Sarah asks.

Sarah works with Hermione, the two of them only just starting to hang out outside of work. She doesn’t know much about the smart solicitor yet, just that Sarah has a boyfriend that works at the bank and that she enjoys a large glass of pinot noir a bit too much.

She’s nice, and smart and the two of them get along really well. But Hermione wasn’t about to go blab about how the man at the bar was the love of her life between the ages of 15-21.

“No, just I’m way too awkward to say hello” She mutters, “Shall I grab us some drinks?”

Sarah nods and rattles off her order. Hermione makes sure she goes to the furthest side of the bar to where Ron leans. He’s still looking in the opposite direction so she calms down a little, lets her muscles relax and breathes steadier so her heart doesn’t go into overdrive.

She orders her drinks and while she waits she watches Ron. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans. She watches the smooth muscles in his back tense as he talks, he’s still as mesmerizing as the day she last saw him.

She drinks another three glasses of wine before Sarah calls the rest of her friends, begging for them to join them at the pub. The pub has grown loud and rowdy, the drinks have been flowing and the heat has made everyone boisterous and excitable. Ron has relocated to a table with his mates, a pint in his hand, the group of them laughing loudly and Hermione feels herself being pulled towards him.

Sarah waits at the table for their friends while Hermione goes to order them another round. The alcohol is now freely flowing in her veins, so she doesn’t realise who’s next to her before it’s too late. He stands tall, his elbows resting on the sticky bar. She tenses, her entire body feels inflamed.

“Mione?”

She might just cry.

She looks up and finds Ron staring at her in shock. His blue eyes wide and his mouth wide open. She laughs.

“Hey” she replies, smiling at him.

Ron instantly smiles back and before she knows it he’s grabbing her into a hug and engulfing her with his scent.

He smells exactly the same, she thinks.

“Fucking hell, I can’t believe its you!” he says, pulling back and cupping her face with his large palms.

She freezes at such an intimate touch but he doesn’t seem to realise.

“You look good” she says, watching as his eyes also scanned her face.

“You look stunning” he replies openly, making Hermione laugh again. He drops his hands.

“How long has it been?” he asks. He’s shaking his head now, still in shock at seeing her.

“Four years?”

“Fucking hell, I’ve missed you” he says quietly.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too”

They smile at each other. Hermione grabs the wine glass in front of her as the bartender makes Sarah’s drink. Her entire body is shaking.

“Are you here with someone?” he asks.

She points out Sarah, who is now sitting with three other girls. Girls that Hermione hardly knows.

“Sarah, I work with her. It looks like her friends just showed up” Hermione gives Ron a tight smile.

“Oh well do you have time to chat?”

“Yeah, let me just give this to Sarah and let her know” she holds up Sarah’s wine glass and Ron gives her a smile. Such a familiar smile that Hermione can’t help but smile back, her jaw hurts already.

She walks over to the table, tells Sarah that she’s just bumped into an old friend and will be back soon. Sarah’s friends greet Hermione kindly but don’t complain.

Then Hermione finds herself sitting at a table in the corner of the pub with Ron Weasley.

She can’t quite believe it. She’s 24 and sitting across a table with her childhood best friend. He looks exactly the same but completely different. She feels exactly the same as she usually does when with him. The old feelings are bubbling up and overwhelming her. How can feelings from four years ago still be so strong?

They end up chatting for hours, the drinks fueling her excitement at seeing him, the alcohol probably fueling another type of feeling that she probably shouldn’t encourage. They talk about their families, their friends, football and her job. She’s giggling and laughing and then Ron’s telling her he’s sorry.

“I’m so sorry we feel out of touch. I still think about you all the time” he admits. He’s been drinking beers and she can tell he’s slightly tipsy by the redness of his cheeks.

“Me too, I guess life just happened” she murmurs.

He nods sullenly.

“I watch all of your games” she admits bravely. She blames the wine, she’s never normally this forward.

“You do?”

“Of course I do,” she smiles at his bewildered look. His blue eyes wide and searching hers for the catch.

“You’re great”

He laughs modestly.

“I ask my mum about you every time I go home” he admits and she blushes furiously.

“Really?”

“Yeah, that’s probably embarrassing but I think I’ve drunk too much to care.” He laughs and she laughs with him. His laugh is so contagious and familiar, a warmth that she had never found in anyone else.

“I’ve heard all about your big job in the city and your nice apartment,” he admits.

“My mum still talks to your mum so I guess I’m not surprised. Does she also tell your mum that I haven’t had a proper boyfriend in years and that I need to get a move on?” she laughs.

Ron smiles tightly and she watches as his eyes scan her face and settle on her lips.

“So still no boyfriend?”

“Nope. What about you? Have you found a hot model to marry yet?”

He screws his nose up and Hermione laughs.

“No way, models are too much trouble. But no, no girlfriend. I was seeing a girl last year but it didn’t work out”

Hermione’s heart flips. She doesn’t want to imagine Ron with another girl, falling in love with another girl.

“That’s a shame” she mutters, hands grasping the stem of the cool wine glass.

“Not really”

She looks up and finds him staring down into his beer.

“Why?”

He ignores her question and instead looks at her, catching her eyes with his.

“Do you think everyone has that one person they compare everyone to?”

The question surprises her, so much that she opens her mouth to answer but finds that she has nothing to say. Or at least, the words don’t seem to form. Instead she can only say one word.

“Who?”

His eyes widen but he looks down at the table and smiles.

“Well, you of course”

Hermione feels like she’s dreaming, like the alcohol running through her body has numbed her and she is just playing out a fantastic scenario in her drunken brain.

“What?” she gulps.

Ron nods as if he’s agreeing to something in his head.

“You were my best friend and you’re gorgeous, of course I fancied you” they don’t break their eye contact, it seems too important, too life-changing of a conversation to not look at each other.

“No you didn’t!” she scoffs, thinking of an 18-year old Ron fancying smart-ass, frizzy-haired Hermione.

“Oh come on Mione! You’re beautiful, smart and funny! I was always flirting with you!”

She tries to remember a time when he might have been flirting but she can’t, all she can remember is her 18 year old self watching him play football, the way he moved when he sprinted, his laugh when he scored, the way he hugged her when they celebrated.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she gulps.

“You just got into Uni and you needed to focus. You were always stressing about how important your first year was and then when I called you, I felt like I was distracting you and I knew how important it all was for you so I just stopped calling” he had his hands running through his hair now, settling on his neck and squeezing.

It was too much for her, to think that she was the reason Ron stopped talking to her. All she could think about was disappointing him, choosing her degree over his friendship, over something more. She stood up frantically and mumbled something about needing air. She heard Ron say something as she walked off but the air was suffocating her, the crowds were too much, the alcohol was making her feel slightly nauseous.

She shoved open the front door to the pub and pushed through the small crowd out the front. She found a quiet corner near the car park, gulped in the fresh summer air and breathed.

She couldn’t believe that Ron had fancied her this whole time, that he wanted to talk to her and that he didn’t just feel obliged to talk to her after school. He liked her and she liked him. She spent years watching him play football, happy that he had moved on, trying not to think about the time they had missed.

“Mione?”

Hermione looked up to find Ron standing idly a few meters ahead of her.

“Ron,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She didn’t consciously walk towards him, it just happened, like the sight of him spurred something in her , made her gravitate towards him. She was inches from him when she stopped and she looked up, her heart warming at the familiar blue eyes and the freckles on his cheeks. So familiar and so him.

“I missed you so much” is all she can say, and she feels her heart filling at the way he smiles back at her.

“I missed you too”

“I’m probably a little drunk but can I kiss you?” she says, the words tumbling from her mouth before she can catch them and swallow them whole.

He smiles brightly and takes her jaw in his hands, his palms back to where they belong.

He leans down and kisses her deeply. His lips are soft beneath hers. She wraps her hands around his neck and her fingers lace between his hair, something she had only dreamt of doing.

She tugs at his hair and he responds by slipping his tongue into her mouth, she moans as their tongues tangle and their breaths deepen. She’s feeling dizzy and she knows it’s not from the wine, it’s from being this close to Ron. It’s from all the pent up feelings she’s had buried for years, for the disappointment she had felt, the deep sadness from him not being in her life.

They pull apart and Ron kisses the corner of her mouth, her jaw, her cheek.

“Mione?”

“Yeah?” she murmurs, still breathless.

“Please tell me you have time to see me”

The desperation in his voice breaks her, she grabs his face and kisses him fiercely.

“Ron, I’m not letting you go this time”

He smiles as he kisses her this time, and they laugh in between kisses.

He asks if he can take her home and she delightfully finds out that he lives nearby, just a 20 minute walk from her own house. He explains that he’s actually been transferred to Arsenal and he moved to London just a few weeks ago. He seems happy about the change and Hermione can’t help but grin proudly as he tells her about the transfer and his new apartment. She feels like this is all too good to be true, that he’s now close by, he’s here and with her.

She goes back inside the pub to say goodbye to Sarah, he pulls her in for another kiss before they enter the pub. He also says goodbye to his mates and she feels feverish as she wanders over to the crowded table. Sarah squeals when she appears and Hermione notes how intoxicated everyone is and smiles. Sarah’s friend, Ashleigh asks if Hermione knows Ron Weasley and Hermione nods, not stopping the huge smile that graces her face when she hears his name. Sarah squeals again at Hermione’s blush and Hermione ends up gushing when Sarah asks if they snogged.

She revels in the faces of Sarah and her friends when Ron kisses her neck, and she lets his lips spread heat over her entire body.

“We have a lot of catching up to do Miss Granger.”

#chudley canon fest #hp canon pairings #romione #ron x hermione

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