#freddy i love you but your apartment is gross
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The Worst Best Friend in the World - A Roger x f!Reader fic
Summary: You and Roger have been calling each other the “worst best friend” for years now, but it’s only recently that it’s started to hit a little too close to home - because only the worst of people would fall in love with their best friend like you did.
Tags: ~8700 words, Roger x f!Reader, angst, h/c, friends-to-lovers, soft smut
Notes: Written for a request from a tumblr user who wishes to remain anonymous. Requests are technically closed so I’m not accepting anymore, but I loved this prompt and just couldn’t resist writing something for it!
Read on AO3 here!
1957
“I hate you Roger Taylor! You’re the worst best friend in the whole entire world!”
Years later, when you look back on that day, you won’t remember what Roger did that upset you so badly. You’ll remember running back home in tears but you won’t remember that you cried so hard that you got hiccups, or that you were nearly sick down the front of your mum’s skirt when she wrapped her arms around you and asked what was wrong. You won’t remember what you told her and you won’t remember crying yourself to sleep that night, hours after the fight actually happened.
What you do remember is seeing him waiting for you by the school gates the next morning. Even now, years after the fact, you remember how nervous he looked when he handed you a piece of paper, and you remember how small his voice sounded when he said, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean what I said. Will you still be my friend?”
You remember opening the piece of paper to see a crude drawing of two stick figures holding hands with your names inside a lopsided heart. At the top of the page, written in Roger’s childish script, are the words Best Friends Forever.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
15 years later…
Tonight’s venue is small, and by the time you finally arrive the place is already packed to the gills with people. You can’t see the makeshift stage setup on the far side of the room but you easily recognize the sound of Queen performing, and you’ve been to enough of their shows by now that you know they’re coming to the end of their set. Damnit. You wanted to get here earlier but your fucking boss held you back, and now it’s going to be a nightmare trying to get backstage to meet up with your friends.
So you don’t try to weasel your way behind the stage at all. You instead duck outside and around the back of the building towards where Queen’s old van is parked, figuring that they have to return to the vehicle at some point and you’ll just meet up with them then. Tonight must be your lucky night, though, because you find the rear door to the venue open and you’re able to slip back inside just in time to hear Freddie say goodnight to the crowd.
“Well look who finally decided to show up!” Roger calls out as the band makes their way down the back hallway. “Thought you decided to skip out on us tonight!”
“Nah, my fucking boss just decided to hold me late,” you explain as you follow him and the others into the dressing room.
“And you didn’t tell him to go fuck himself and leave anyway? Worst best friend ever,” Roger teases, and you laugh at the old inside joke.
The two of you have been slinging that ‘accusation’ at each other ever since that fight when you were ten, but apart from once or twice in the middle of heated arguments it’s never been meant with any sort of seriousness. On the contrary there’s a great deal of fondness captured in those three words that doesn’t seem like it should fit with being called someone’s “worst best friend” but it’s because you both keep the joke running that you know your friendship with Roger is still going strong after all this time.
“Hey now that’s not fair. A real worst best friend wouldn’t have shown up at all,” you say, slinging an arm around Roger’s shoulders. He worked up a sweat while drumming and it’s a bit gross to be touching him right now, but it doesn’t really bother you.
When it comes to Roger there are a lot of things that don’t really bother you, even if they probably should.
Roger laughs. “No, I think that’s just called being a bad friend.” He playfully elbows you and adds, “C’mon, get off me so I can get changed.”
You nod and let go of him, even though that’s the last thing you want to do. No one asks you to leave the room, neither Roger nor the rest of Queen, and you’ve long since stopped raising the subject yourself. You’re Roger’s old mate from school - practically one of the guys - and so none of them seem to think that maybe they should want you to step outside while they drop trou.
That means that you’re free to lean against the doorframe and ogle the boys as they change. Or at least that's what you'd be doing if you had the stomach for ogling your friends, but you don't. It just doesn't feel right for you to be eyeing up Roger like that when he's made it clear - through actions, if not words - that he doesn't feel the same.
There is one advantage to your position by the door, though. You’re the first to hear the sound of giggles and hushed whispers floating down the corridor, and when you glance in that direction you can see the two girls clearly trying to work up the courage to come talk to the band.
“Head’s up,” you tell the boys. It’s just enough of a warning for Roger to zip up his trousers and throw on a shirt, before the girls are hovering nervously at your shoulder.
“Um, hi there!” one of the girls says. “We saw your show and just wanted to tell you that it was fantastic! You guys were really brilliant out there.”
“Thank you,” Freddie says. “It’s always lovely to hear what the fans think of our music.”
The girls seem to take that as permission to move further into the small room, pushing past you without so much as a ‘pardon me’. You roll your eyes behind their backs and try to send Roger a Can you believe this? look, but he doesn’t see it.
Because while the brunette takes a seat by Freddie really does seem eager to talk about Queen’s music, her blonde friend has made a beeline for Roger - and judging by the look in her eyes and her hand on his arm, she has other things on her mind than the show she just watched.
And, even worse, Roger seems to be perfectly happy to entertain her advances.
This is a side of Roger that you’re still trying to get used to. He tried dating a few girls when the two of you first got to uni, but the relationships never really worked out and eventually he gave up on dating altogether. Or at least that’s all that you can assume happened, given that you’ve long since stopped seeing the same girls more than once or twice.
If you’re being honest with yourself - which you try not to be, at least not where Roger is concerned - it makes you uncomfortable to watch him with other girls. You know that the attention he receives is unavoidable, especially as Queen keeps gaining a proper following, but why does he have to respond so eagerly every time a pretty girl flirts with him? It’s not that you’re a prude, and god nows you’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if you started spouting off against of pre-marital sex, but it’s just… it’s just…
The girls waltz past you with another flurry of giggles, pulling you from your thoughts. You hope this means that you can get back to the plans you had already made with Roger, but those hopes are immediately dashed when you see the lovestruck look on his face as he watches the blonde leave.
Then he glances your way, and immediately winces at the expression on your face. So much for trying to hide your annoyance.
Roger gives you an apologetic grin and tries to explain himself. “Ah, Y/N, I wasn’t- I mean I know we had plans, but-”
“Oh, go on then,” you say, jerking your thumb over your shoulder towards the door behind you.
Roger perks up a bit. “You don’t mind?”
You do mind, but you’re not going to admit that to him now. “No, but you’re going to owe me one for this. You now that, right?”
“I’ll buy you dinner later this week to make it up to you,” Roger promises.
“Sounds perfect,” you say, though there’s a part of you that wishes that ‘dinner’ meant more than just a simple meal. Except Roger is grinning at you, that bright and beautiful grin that you love so much, and so it’s hard to really be disappointed with his offer. “But you’re still the worst best friend for leaving me like this!”
“I know,” Roger says. It’s an apology for leaving, and a thank-you for letting him, and because it’s Roger you don’t need anything more said than that.
Because you do know. You know that you’re only uncomfortable with his flirting and hookups because he’s never looked at you that way before.
And you know, beyond any doubt, that he never will.
XXXXX
When you were sixteen your mum had put her foot down and insisted that you go to at least one school dance that year. It wasn’t that you hated socializing with your peers or that you objected to getting a bit dolled-up (though you did object to the dress that your mum wanted to put you in); it’s just that school dances are always either boring or awkward, or more often than not a miserable combination of the two, and you had better things to do with your time than suffer through that.
You were in the middle of bemoaning that fact to Roger when he suggested, “Why don’t we just go together then?”
“Weren’t you listening to anything I was just saying?” you asked with a laugh. “Because I think us going to a dance together would definitely make things awkward!”
“I didn’t mean that we should go together-together,” Roger said. “Just as friends. That way when things get boring we can sneak away and find something better to do.”
"I'm pretty sure they don't let the students sneak out of the dance like that."
"And I'm pretty sure that as long as we're sneaky enough they'll never even notice!"
And in the end, they never did.
You and Roger put in enough of an appearance at the dance to make it seem like you were there. Just enough that, should your mums cross paths with one of the chaperones and get to chatting, no one would have anything to say to raise suspicions. But at the first opportunity the two of you snuck out the back door and disappeared into the Cornish night... which really meant that the two of you wandered down to the football pitch and sat on the damp grass, uncaring of the mess you were making of your nice clothes.
You and Roger spent the rest of the night just laughing and talking about whatever came into your heads: school, exams, your holiday plans and Roger’s band rehearsals… It was going to be a busy summer for the both of you and you were worried about how much time you’ll have to spend together, but Roger swiftly put those fears to rest.
“I’ll drop the band before I drift away from you,” he said firmly.
“No you won’t! You love the band!”
“I do, but I lo-” The rest of his sentence was cut off by Roger clearing his throat, but you knew him well enough to guess what he had been about to say.
At the time, you were happy that he didn’t say I love you more and instead rambled on about how your friendship was more important than any band would ever be. You were both sixteen, that age where you stop saying that you love your friends and start saying those words to the person you’re dating instead. Roger might have saved the conversation by steering it back towards safer topics but your burning hot cheeks and the flush on Roger’s face were a testament to the moment of awkwardness that almost was.
Now as you think back on that night, you wonder if your embarrassment wasn’t because the both of you were awkward teens - but rather because you were already a little in love with Roger. And not at all in a platonic way.
You can’t pinpoint the exact moment that you fell in love with him, or even the first time you consciously realized that you had these feelings at all. Maybe they’ve just always been there, another constant in your life just like Roger has always been. You wonder if that means that you’ll always love him then, and whether you’re prepared to always feel as shitty as you do now every time that you have to watch Roger take home a girl who isn’t you.
Sometimes you think back to that night you spent out by the football pitch instead of inside dancing and you imagine what it could have been like if Roger had actually said the words, I love you. Would you have had the courage to respond as if it wasn’t meant platonically? Would that have changed anything between you, or would it only have ruined the best friendship with the worst best friend you’ve ever known?
Sometimes you imagine how things could be if Roger says I love you now. Sometimes you fantasize that his confession turns things a bit steamy, but you know that’s all you’re ever going to have: Just your fantasies, and nothing more.
XXXXX
The next time you see Roger is at Queen’s rehearsal a few days later. He told you to stop by when they were done so he could buy you the dinner he promised, but for once you had nothing else on your calendar so you decided to swing by at the start of practice so you could say hello to the rest of the guys as well.
You must have arrived just after Roger, though, because the first thing you see is him kissing another girl just outside the band’s practice space. It’s a blonde again, but not the same one from the other night. She’s taller than the last girl, or at least wearing higher heels, and wearing an outfit that makes her look like she just walked off the pages of a Biba advert. She’s drop-dead gorgeous, anyone with eyes can see that, and your stomach twists with a white-hot jealousy as you watch her blow Roger a kiss goodbye before she finally leaves.
“Hey, Y/N!” Roger calls out. You quickly pretend that you weren’t glaring daggers into the back of that girl’s head and turn to look at him instead. “You’re here early. Didn’t have anything better to do?”
“Just didn’t want you skipping out early when you owe me a dinner,” you say. Roger laughs, and his good mood gives you the courage to ask, “So who was that then? New girlfriend?”
“New girl, at least,” Roger answers.
“Is she going to be sticking around?”
“Dunno.” Roger is still grinning but there’s a growing look of confusion on his face as well and he asks, “What’s with the twenty questions? You don’t usually care this much about who I hang out with.”
You shrug, trying to feign an air of nonchalance that you don’t entirely feel. “Just curious, that’s all. What, am I not allowed to take an interest in my friend’s life anymore?”
“Ass,” Roger says, laughing. He elbows you playfully and adds, “C’mon, let’s get inside before they send Brian out to see what’s taking so long.”
Roger seems to have already brushed off your questions but you still feel rattled as you follow him into Queen’s rehearsal space. He has a point, after all; you don’t usually interrogate him like that and it worries you that just seeing him with another girl can get under your skin like that.
You know you can get a bit jealous of the girls that he takes home but you can’t let Roger know that. If he finds out about your jealousy - if he found out how you really feel about him - you really would become the worst best friend in the world. Except, it wouldn’t be much of a joke at that point at all.
Luckily Roger doesn’t seem to suspect anything. If he was ever suspicious about your one-too-many questions earlier, it’s faded by the time rehearsal is over and the two of you head out. One quick stop for takeaway later and you two end up back at his flat, where you bicker good-naturedly about what to put on the telly while you eat and try to steal bites of the other’s food behind their back.
You aren’t in any rush tonight to return to your own flat. You love being able to spend time with Roger like this, just the two of you, just like the old days. You finish eating, and you’re perfectly happy to stay on the cramped sofa with Roger’s knee digging into yours and let the hours of the evening tick by. By the time you finally, begrudgingly, make a comment about needing to head home it’s late enough that you almost regret waiting this long to leave, if only because you hate walking home in the dark.
“You know you can always stay the night,” Roger tells you.
“I know,” you say, but you also know that you never will. Not anymore, not when you know that you’d just be lying awake on the couch wishing you were in bed with Roger instead. “But I’ll sleep better without springs poking into my back.”
“You can take my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch,” Roger offers.
Your heart skips a beat but you manage to hide it with a laugh and say, “A mattress spring digging into my spine isn’t much better than a couch spring, Rog! Now, do you remember where I put my wallet?”
“I hid it so you wouldn’t be able to leave.”
“Worst best friend.” You smack his shoulder playfully as you walk past and add, “You better return it by the time I get back from the toilet, or I’m taking your wallet home with me instead!”
You’re still chuckling to yourself as you finish up your business. You can hear Roger moving around in the living room and you’re certain that he’s grabbing your wallet from wherever he stashed it. Still, there’s a part of you that thinks it would be a little funny if you walked out with Roger’s wallet in your pocket instead.
You move over to the sink to wash your hands - but then you see something on the counter that makes you stop short.
There’s a hair there, a long, bright red one that definitely does not match the hair of anyone you’ve seen Roger with recently. In fact you can’t remember ever seeing Roger go home with a redhead before. You always knew that there were probably more girls around than you had actually met but you weren’t prepared to have the evidence of that thrown in your face at the end of an otherwise perfect night like this.
Suddenly you can picture her perfectly in your mind’s eye, checking her hair quickly in the mirror before joining Roger in the bedroom or redoing her makeup the morning after the fact. There’s a dark smear on the countertop that could be eyeliner and you furiously rub it away with your finger until the white porcelain gleams again. You take a petty joy in removing any evidence that there’s other women in Roger’s life, even if you know that won’t change anything about your relationship with him.
XXXXX
If you’re being honest with yourself, which you’re still trying not to do, you bought the makeup because of Roger. You just couldn’t stop thinking about all the girls that he takes home and comparing yourself to them, and even though you can’t afford a new wardrobe to look more stylish or larger heels to make yourself look taller you can afford to duck into Biba to pick up a few new items of makeup to try out.
You don’t think you can pull off some of the bolder looks popularized by today’s models, but you’ve always had a deft hand with eyeliner and it’s easy for you to copy the crisp cat-eye look in the magazine pages. The blue eyeshadow isn’t your usual color but it does make your eyes pop, and with the addition of lipstick and liner you think you could almost be mistaken for Twiggy. At least, from a distance. And at a night.
Still you have a spring in your step as you head out to meet Queen ahead of that night’s show. You don’t know if this will be enough to get Roger to see you in a different light or not, but the appreciative looks you get from others as you make your way towards the dressing room are a welcome boost to your confidence nonetheless.
“Look at you, Y/N!” Freddie says as you walk into the room. “What’s the special occasion, then?”
“No special occasion,” you tell him. “Just felt like getting dressed up tonight, that’s all.”
“Well you look very nice,” John says.
You beam at him. “Thank you!” You lean against the wall and ask, as casually as you can, “I take it Roger’s running late tonight?”
“Him and Brian both,” John says, with a slight roll of his eyes. “Hopefully they’ll be here soon…”
Freddie cocks his head and says, “Oh, I think they will be.”
Now that Freddie has pointed it out you can hear the faint, but steadily growing louder, sounds of Brian and Roger arguing drifting down the hall towards the dressing room. Judging by the looks on Freddie’s and John’s faces this is an old, recurring argument of theirs, but that doesn’t do much to tone down the passion in their voices as they bicker about some facet of one of their songs. Brian walks into the room first, gesticulating so wildly that he almost hits John with his guitar case, and Roger is right on his heels, talking over him and completely oblivious to his surroundings.
“Alright, alright, that’s quite enough for one night!” Freddie says. They don’t pay him any mind, though, and so he claps his hands and says, louder this time, “Hey! Cut it out!”
They both jump slightly. Brian mumbles an apology and starts getting his guitar ready, while Roger says, “Sorry, Freddie, but you know that the song needs- Holy shit, Y/N!”
Roger does a visible double-take at the sight of you. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open in surprise, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from laughing.
“Something wrong?” you ask, voice dripping with faux-innocence.
Roger shakes his head, a gesture of someone trying to pull their thoughts back together rather than an answer to your question. “No, but what’s on your face?”
The question stings more than you want to let on, and your stomach sinks. That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get from him.
“It’s makeup,” you snap and, before you can think better of it, you add, “Thought you would’ve been used to it from those girls you keep taking home.”
“I’m only used to girls who look good with their makeup on, not one who try to imitate a clown,” Roger says.
He’s grinning, like he just cracked a hilarious joke, but you don’t find it funny at all. It just hurts, more than anything you can remember Roger ever saying to you before. He looks at you, waiting for you to retort with a similar sort of jab, but as tears start to prick at the corner of your eyes all you want is to get as far away from him and this situation as possible.
“You know sometimes Roger you really are the worst fucking friend in the world,” you say, as you gather your coat and storm past him out of the room.
“Jesus christ, Rog! Do you ever think before you say something?” you hear John snap at him behind you, but you don’t stop or turn around.
You hurry out of the venue, needing to put as much distance between yourself and Roger as you can so he doesn’t see you crying. You don’t know what you were thinking, trying to get this sort of validation from him. That’s not the sort of friendship you two will ever have, so why did you even put yourself in this position in the first place? You wipe furiously at your eyes, not caring that the gesture will smear makeup all over your face. Why should you care about that anyway, when your original look apparently made you look like a clown to the only person whose opinion you cared about?
When you get home you wash your face and throw out the new makeup you bought, because you know you’ll never be able to stomach wearing it again. You don’t even know if you’ll be able to stomach seeing Roger again; the thought of losing him from your life still terrifies you, but it’s clear that your feelings for him are getting out of control. You can’t even begin to think of how you’re going to explain away this reaction when you see him again… and as the night drags on, you start to wonder if you even should see Roger again, or if you should take this as a sign that your friendship with him has finally reached an end.
XXXXX
You’re woken abruptly by the sound of loud, insistent knocking echoing through your flat. You blink against the bright lights, and it takes you a moment to realize that you must have dozed off on the couch. You don’t know what time it is, only that it’s still dark outside, and you’re sleepy enough that your spat with Roger is the last thing on your mind as you shuffle over to the door to see who’s bothering you at this late hour.
The answer - and you really should have seen this coming - is that it’s Roger standing there on your front steps. He’s sweating and breathing heavily and still in his stage clothes, and despite the hurt you still feel your stomach swoops at the sight of him.
“Y/N, hey, can I… Can I come in?” he asks hesitantly. “Can we talk?”
You grip the door a little harder. “It’s late. What are you even doing here?”
“Trying to apologize to you,” Roger says. “I wanted to come by earlier but there was the show, and Freddie said I should let you cool down first…” He sighs and gives you a remorseful half-smile. “Probably should’ve waited until the morning, I’ll accept that, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” you lie. “Apology accepted. You can leave now.”
You try to shut the door, but Roger quickly stops you. “Hey, c’mon now, Y/N. I’m really, really sorry. You looked great with the makeup on, honest.”
“Yeah, like a great clown.”
Roger winces at the reminder of what he said to you. “No, that was just me being an ass. I thought we were just teasing each other like we always do but I crossed a line there and I am so sorry for hurting you. You looked beautiful tonight. I promise you did.”
Somehow the compliment hurts worse than the earlier insult did. “Don’t say that,” you tell him.
“What? Compliment you?” Roger asks. “It’s true, though. You did look beautiful with the makeup on.”
“Stop it,” you say. “You don’t need to lie to make me feel better.”
“It’s not a lie,” Roger says. “You did look great with the makeup. But you always look gorgeous without it too.” You shake your head and Roger huffs, and asks, “Why don’t you believe me? Just because of what I said before?”
“No, because you don’t say things like that to me!” you snap. “I’m your friend, I’m one of the guys, and we don’t compliment each other like that! So if you’re going to start doing that now then you can fuck off and not come back, because I can’t-”
You cut yourself off before you can either say something that you’ll really regret, or start crying like a baby in front of Roger. You try to shut the door again but he sticks his foot in the way, and he doesn’t even flinch when you slam the door uselessly against the side of his shoe anyway.
“Y/N, what the hell’s going on?” he asks. “You’re not acting like yourself. Did something happen?”
He looks and sounds worried and that kills you inside. You hate being the cause of his concern, and you hate knowing that the two of you are just going to keep ending up here no matter what you do - maybe not in this same exact situation, but you know you’re only going to keep being hurt the longer you try to bottle up your feelings.
“What happened is that I fell in love with the worst best friend I could ever have,” you tell him tiredly. “And I know he doesn’t feel the same so I hate hearing him call me beautiful when I know he only means it platonically.” You sigh, and lean heavily against the door, and add, “So can you just leave me alone now? Please?”
Roger stares at you, mouth agape in open surprise, but with his foot still stuck in the door so you can’t even close it in his face.
“Please,” you repeat, a little quieter.
That seems to shake Roger out of his stupor. His gaze becomes a little more searching, like he’s trying to read your expression to make sense of everything you just admitted.
“Do you mean me?” he finally asks. You don’t respond, which is probably answer enough for him, because he huffs in frustration and says, “C’mon, Y/N, let me in. I think we need to talk.”
You don’t want to. You want Roger to go away and let you lick your wounds in private, so that the next time you see each other maybe you can pretend that none of this happened and you two can go back to the way things used to be. But you know nothing can ever be the same again, and trying to push back this conversation will only make things worse. So, despite the fact that your heart is in your stomach, you reluctantly nod and open the door to let Roger inside.
Normally you like having Roger in your flat. You like spending time with him and when they’re at yours you can at least guarantee that none of his bandmates will be unexpectedly interrupting you. Tonight, though, you can feel yourself tensing up as Roger walks into your living room and takes a seat on your couch.
He glances back at you, and offers you a crooked smile. “You going to stand there all night, or do you want to sit down too?”
You shake your head. Your place is small and the only place left to sit is next to Roger, and you don’t think you can stand to be that close to him while having this conversation. “I’ll stand, thanks.”
Roger’s face falls, and you immediately feel guilty.
“However you think I’m going to react, I promise it’s not like that,” Roger tells you. “I’m not mad at you or anything.”
“But you should be!” There are tears pricking at your eyes again but you try to blink them back as you continue, saying, “God, Roger, I’m so sorry. I know we joke about it all the time but this really does make me a terrible friend, and I know that and I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen and I never wanted it to change things between us-”
“But what if I want to change things between us?” Roger interrupts.
You flinch at the question and wrap your arms around yourself, as if the gesture can help you physically hold yourself together, but that’s not enough to stop a tear from slipping down your cheek. If that’s what Roger really wants then you don’t know that you’ll be able to change his mind, and your heart is already absolutely shattered at the prospect of losing him.
“No, no, Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that,” Roger says quickly. He stands up and takes a small, abortive step towards you before he realizes that that might make the situation worse and he slowly sinks back down on the couch.
“What I meant to say,” Roger says, soft and gentle, “is that I want things to change because I’m also in love with you.”
Time seems to freeze around you. Your breath hitches in your throat and your watery eyes widen in surprise and you wait for Roger to say something else, to say anything else, to give any explanation at all - but he doesn’t, and somehow you find your voice enough to croak out, “What?”
“I’m in love you with,” Roger repeats. “Have been, for a long time. That’s why I stopped dating, because how I felt about them couldn’t hold a candle to my feelings for you.”
“But… those girls you take home…”
Roger ducks his head in embarrassment. “I was trying to forget about you,” he admits. He glances back up at you and adds, sheepishly, “Didn’t really work too well, though. Even when I was with them I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Why?”
He blinks at you. “Why… what?”
“Why would you think of me when you already had the prettiest girl in any room on your arm?” you ask bitterly. Despite what Roger’s saying now, you still remember all too well how it felt to compare yourself to those girls and always finding yourself coming up short.
“But I didn’t have the prettiest girl in the room. That’s why I had to settle for them instead.” Roger studies your face and, slowly, he asks, “Y/N, did you really think that I didn’t notice how beautiful you are?”
You can feel your own face starting to flush now and you point out, rather hotly, “Well you never said anything! I was right there and you never once seemed to notice me like that!”
“Guess I’m a better actor than I thought,” Roger tries to joke.
You’re far too upset for it to land properly. You’ve been making yourself miserable for ages now by comparing yourself for those other girls, and for no reason at all! You’re embarrassed that Roger seems to have picked up on your insecurities like that, and angry that all of this could have been avoided if you had been less of a coward and just said something-
“I’m so, so sorry, Y/N,” Roger says. The apology, thankfully, interrupts your rapidly-spiraling thoughts before they can get much worse. “I was so worried about making you uncomfortable that I guess I went too far in the opposite direction, and I’m so sorry for that. I never meant for you to feel unnoticed. Believe me, I’ve always seen you and you’ve always been the best distraction in my life.”
Your face must be bright red by now with how hot it feels, and all you can think to say is, “You could have said something, you know!”
Roger laughs softly. “Yeah, alright. That’s fair enough. Guess the least I can do then is finally say something now.”
He stands up again and, though your heart is racing in your chest, you somehow manage to pull yourself together enough to meet his eyes.
“Y/N, I love you,” he says. “You’re gorgeous and funny and the worst best friend anyone could ever ask for, and I have wanted to kiss you for years.” He takes a step forward, this time with confidence, and asks, “Will you let me start making up for lost time now?”
XXXXX
Time seems to slow down at Roger holds out one hand towards you, waiting for you to make the next move. Waiting for you to confirm that, yes, you really do want to take this next step together with him.
It’s a question that he hardly needs to ask. You’re moving before you even find your voice again, uncurling from the ball of tension you had wound yourself into and reaching out to lace your fingers together with Roger’s, before finally answering, “Yes.”
You take a step towards him, or maybe Roger uses your clasped hands to pull you in. You don’t really know and it don’t really matters, because the end outcome is still the same: You, pressed close against Roger, one of his hands on your hip, as he leans down to kiss you.
It isn’t exactly the kiss of your dreams. Your heart is racing so quickly that you’re nearly trembling, and maybe that’s what makes the angle of the kiss just a bit awkward and off. Roger laughs nervously and tries to adjust but somehow that just makes things worse, and he finally ends up pulling away altogether after only the barest brush of his mouth near yours.
Roger’s face is red and he nearly trips over himself trying to apologize, but you don’t need him to do that. “Rog, it’s okay,” you assure him. “Guess we’re both just nervous, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Roger sighs and offers you a crooked smile, and asks, “Wanna give it another go?”
You nod, and this time you lean up to meet Roger halfway in a kiss that’s much more coordinated than before.
It still isn’t exactly perfect - but it is pretty damn close.
And when Roger pulls back, several long moments later, you can see a hunger in his eyes that makes it clear that this is only the beginning of everything he wants to do with you.
It’s that look that wipes away the last of your insecurities, because it’s a look that makes it clear that Roger really does want you. And suddenly it doesn’t matter what other girls he’s been with before or how you measure up against them. All that matters is that he’s with you now, and he doesn’t seem to be in any rush to let you go.
“I think I could spend the rest of the night kissing you, y’know,” Roger says. His voice is low, almost a purr, and the sound of it is nearly enough to make you weak in the knees.
“Then why don’t you?” you ask.
Roger’s hand tightens slightly on your hip. “Because there’s no reason to rush things. I want to do things properly here. I want to take you on dates and buy you flowers and-”
“And,” you cut in, “we’ve known each other for most of our lives. If anything we’ve been taking things slow up until now, so if you want to kiss me again…”
“I want to do more than just kiss you, though,” Roger admits, as if he actually thinks that’s going to make you pull the breaks now.
You let go of his hand, but only so you can shift even closer to Roger and drape your arms over his shoulders. “Then why don’t you?” you repeat, this time in a low murmur.
Roger inhales sharply. “Y/N… Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you say, without any hesitation. “And if you leave me waiting now, you really will be the worst-”
Roger interrupts the rest of your sentence with another kiss, a bit more forceful this time, a little more heated. He pushes up the hem of your shirt a bit, his fingers just teasing along the skin of your stomach, but that’s enough to get you to whimper against his mouth. You’re painfully aware of the fact that you’re just in your pajamas, and definitely not wearing a bra anymore. If Roger moves his hand just a little bit higher…
“Bedroom?” Roger asks, his hand still resting just above the waistband of your sleep-shorts.
You nod, and despite the fact that this is your flat you let Roger lead the way into the bedroom. He obviously knows where it is since he’s been here before. He’s even slept in your bed before, when the two of you were two pissed for it to matter, but tonight you’re both clear-headed and sleep is the last thing on your minds.
Roger kisses you again, and this time when his hands toy with the hem of your shirt there’s a purpose there that makes you shiver.
“Can I?” he asks. You nod again, and lift your arms so Roger can carefully remove your top.
You have to fight the urge to wrap your arms around yourself to hide your breasts, but Roger doesn’t give you any time to feel self-conscious.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says. If it wasn’t already clear from his voice that he means it, you can see how his eyes darken in appreciation and when he presses close for another kiss you can feel his growing hardness against your hip. “Lie down on the bed for me?” he murmurs against your lips.
You pluck at the top that he’s still wearing and say, “Only if you take this off.”
You’ve seen Roger shirtless countless times before over the years but this time is different, because this time you don’t have to hide your staring. You watch with open appreciation as he joins you on the bed and settles between your spread legs, and all you can think to say is, “You’re gorgeous.”
Roger laughs. “Stealing my lines now, Y/N?” he teases. He slides one hand up your body, palming your breast and eliciting a quiet gasp from you which he quickly swallows down with another kiss, because apparently he wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to spend the rest of the night doing that.
He trails kisses down your neck, across your collarbones and along the tops of your breasts. He swipes a thumb across your nipple as he kisses down your sternum, and you can feel yourself start to throb with anticipation as he moves down the planes of your stomach until his lips are just above your waistband. And it’s there that he lingers for a moment, pressing kisses into your navel but making no moves to keep things heading south.
You reach down and card a hand through Roger’s hair, pushing it back away from his face and making him glance back up at you with a questioning look.
“You don’t have to eat me out if you don’t want to,” you tell him. You know from experience that that can be a sticking point for some guys, and you would never push Roger to do something he didn’t want to do.
But Roger is quick to reassure you, “No, no I definitely want to. I was trying to think of a romantic way of asking, but since you said it first…” He plucks at your waistband and grins up at you. “Wanna take these off so I can eat your pussy and blow your mind?”
His phrasing of the question makes you laugh. You like that Roger can keep things light-hearted and humorous in bed. It helps keep your nerves and insecurities at bay as you lift your hips to allow Roger to remove your shorts and panties, leaving you fully bared beneath him.
“Beautiful,” Roger murmurs, appreciative, as he presses a soft kiss just below your navel. Then another even lower than that, and you spread your legs a bit wider in anticipation of him finally moving down between them. He does keep moving down your body but not where you want him to go. He kisses down one of your inner thighs, then up the other one, seemingly unaware of how wet you’re becoming.
“Rog- oh,” your complaint is cut-off before you can even say anything, as Roger suddenly licks a broad stroke over your core, ending with a small flick of his tongue against your clit.
You moan and grab at the blankets beneath you as Roger begins to eat you out in earnest. He’s so fucking good at this and the reality is so much better than your fantasies ever were. Roger holds your hips down and laps at your core like he can’t get enough of the taste of you. His clever tongue finds your clit and he alternates between teasing licks and light suckling, the combination driving you absolutely crazy with need.
You’re flushed and panting and absolutely incoherent with desperation. You want to come so badly… but you don’t want to come like this.
Somehow you manage to let go of the blankets so you can gently push Roger away - something that’s far easier said than done, when Roger’s mouth feels as good as it does.
He does stop but he gives you a confused and worried look and asks, "Is something wrong?"
"No! No, god no," you say quickly, and a look of relief immediately crosses Roger’s face. “But I don’t wanna come until you fuck me.”
Roger groans and unconsciously grinds his hips down against the mattress. “Fuck, Y/N, are you sure? I’m, ah, I’m probably not going to last long this time-”
“I don’t care,” you reassure him. You card a hand through his hair, and shiver as he nuzzles against your inner thigh. “I’m already close. I just wanna feel you first."
"Well I'll never say no to that." Roger kisses the inside of your leg, before sitting up and asking, "Condoms?"
"In the drawer."
Roger nods and grabs one, along with the small bottle of lube that you had stashed in there. You're not sure that it'll be needed given how absolutely soaked you already are, but you can appreciate the care he shows in the gesture. Roger is clearly a thoughtful lover but almost to a fault; he somehow manages to shimmy out of his trousers and underwear before you can even offer to help undress him, and you have to pluck the condom out of his hand to stop him from putting that on himself too.
“Let me do something here,” you say, teasingly. You tear open the small packet, and any reply that Roger would have given is lost in another groan as you slowly roll the condom down over his cock.
You can’t resist giving Roger a few strokes, relishing the weight and feel of him in your hand. “How do you want me?” you ask him.
He stills your hand with a gentle touch and says, “Lie down on your back. I wanna see your face.”
Your heart is racing in nervous anticipation as you settle back down on the bed. Roger grins reassuringly as he braces himself above you. “Breathe, Y/N,” he says. “I’ve got you.”
And then he’s pushing inside you, slowly and carefully, and breathing is the last thing on your mind because all you can think about is how perfectly Roger fills you up. You cry out and rub your cheek against the pillow beneath you, trying so hard not to come as Roger finally comes to a stop, buried to the hilt inside you. He’s breathing heavily and trembling faintly, and you know that neither of you are going to last long once he starts moving again.
“Ready?” he asks after another minute.
You nod and barely manage to breathe out a needy, “Yes,” before Roger carefully pulls out, and thrusts back in. All you can do is moan and cling to him as he starts fucking you, slowly at first but quickly picking up pace. He’s not rough but there is a desperation to his movements, like he’s barely able to hold himself back this much. He groans and mouths at your neck, and you dig your fingers into his back so tightly that you just know they’re going to bruise, but right now neither of you care about that.
You only let go of Roger to try to touch your clit so you can finally, finally come, but Roger bats your hand away and replaces it with his own.
“This what you wanted?” he asks, panting, as his clever fingers rub over the head of your clit. “You gonna come for me, babydoll?”
“Roger,” you moan. You clench around his hard length and he groans above you, hips stuttering slightly, but he doesn’t stop his thrusting or the motion of his hand on your clit. “I’m gonna- fuck, Rog, I’m-”
You cry out as your orgasm washes over you. You clench down around Roger, setting him off only a few moments later as well. He grinds deep inside you as he comes and he ducks his head to muffle his groan in the crook of your neck. You’re breathing heavily and you shudder as Roger’s every movement sends sparks of overstimulated-pleasure racing down your spine. He finally pulls out when your sporadic clenching becomes too much for him to stand any longer, and once he disposes of the condom he collapses bonelessly next to you on the bed.
There’s a moment of near-panic where you wonder what the fuck you’re supposed to do now. You just slept with you best friend; there’s no coming back from that. Everything is going to change between you and Roger now - the one thing you were always trying to avoid - and there’s a part of you that is terrified about what happens next.
But then Roger laughs breathlessly and rolls over to face you, slinging one hand casually over your waist as he snuggles close to you, like it doesn’t even occur to him to be anything but affectionate with you. You breathe a small sigh of relief, and the smile you give him in return is bright and genuine.
“Would it be forward of me to say that I already want to do that again?” Roger asks. He’s smiling lazily at you, looking like the cat that got the cream, and it makes you want to kiss him breathless all over again.
“I don’t care if it’s forward or not, because I was thinking the same thing,” you say. You just came but with Roger pressed hot and naked against you all you can think about is getting your turn to worship him with your mouth and hands.
You lean up to kiss him and Roger meets you with the same passion and intensity that you’re feeling yourself. He drops his hand to cup your ass and encourages you to grind against him, which you do eagerly.
“Christ, Y/N, you drive me crazy,” Roger murmurs, the words nearly lost against your mouth. “What sort of friends are we, if we can’t keep our hands off each other for five minutes?”
“Oh the worst best friends, for sure,” you say, trying to suppress your giggle. Roger’s answering snort of laughter disrupts your angle and throws you off the rhythm of your grinding. You huff and add, “Of course, you’d be the best boyfriend ever if you moved your leg back to where it was…”
“Boyfriend?” Roger echoes, immediately perking up. He doesn’t move his leg back but before you can complain about that he rolls the two of you over, so you’re on your back and he’s on top of you once again.
“Yeah, boyfriend,” you say. “At least, I thought that’s where things were going.”
“They were,” Roger confirms, grinning down at you widely. “That wasn’t a complaint. I just liked hearing you call me your boyfriend.”
“Well you’re about to become the worst boyfriend again if you don’t do something-”
The rest of your complaint is lost to a moan as Roger moves his hand between your bodies, and starts you off on round two.
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I came home after a long shift at the gas station to find my roommate hanging out with a friend of his on our couch. I didn’t think anything of it at first, until I heard “Oh shit, it’s Foot boy Freddy!” I instantly jerked my head back, surprised to hear that in my own apartment. My roommate was watching tv and taking a swig of his beer, I don’t think he heard the man at first. “Well, what are you doing just walking past me like that? Don’t you see my feet are up!” He demanded. At this point my roommate turned his attention to me and his friend, a grin on his face as he was trying to figure out what was going on. “Dude, you remember me telling you about that fag that wrote my paper for me last month?” He asked my roommate.
My roommate started busting out laughing “oh hell no, Freddy- did you lick my friends feet after basketball practice?” His face was lit up with amusement, and I was not in the mood for this. I wondered how in the world Bryce could be the one here in my apartment, out of all of the other straight male friends my roommate had- he had to be the one at my apartment tonight. Apparently my face was crimson red, as I stood there in shock and embarrassment while they two of them laughed at me like a sick joke.
“Well shit dude, now I’m kinda jealous. All this time I’ve been living with a foot f a g and my feet haven’t gotten an ounce of attention! AND you write essays too?? You’ve been holding out on me dude, that’s not cool” My roommate teased, feigning indignation.
“Bro he writes phenomenal essays! Brought me up from a D to a B in just 3 assignments. Get the fuck over here Freddy, don’t be holding out on my friend! Look at his big feet, you know those toes make you wanna drool. Why don’t you come over here and introduce us to the real you? Maybe see if my friend here has an assignment you can work on for him in return for allowing you to fag out on his feet?” He said, picking up my roommates sneaker from the floor and taking a sniff. “Eww, dude your feet are gross. See f a g, you’re going to love this stench. Nose in the toes f a g g o t, just like you did with me last time. Let’s turn you into something useful.”…… before the night was over they had me locked in chastity and a whole new list of ‘house rules’ were implemented just for me to follow. I also have 2 separate 3,000 word essays due by the end of the week, but it’s hard to find a chance to work on them when I’m constantly being ordered to work on their feet instead!
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Sorry to hear you're sick; I hope you feel better soon ^^ You may know I'm not much of a horror girlie, but these questions are pretty interesting and I'd love to give you a chance to gush about your interests. So here's a ticket... or six 😁 🎟️🎫
1, 2, 7, 21, 28, 45?
Thank you, you're lovely! ^^ <3
1.First ever horror film- A Nightmare On Elm Street (2010). Lordy. I've said it before but- it was scary, and that was good, but after having seen the original its kind of underwhelming considering it brings very very little new to the table, and what it does bring (Freddy being a pedophile) is... unpleasant. And trashed for a reason.
2. Favourite horror film of all time- The Last Showing!
7. Favourite horror film from this decade (2020's)- This took me a moment but DEFINITELY X (2022) & Pearl (2022)! So... gross, and pretty at the same time😅Plus there's a crocodile. It my criteria? XD I cant wait for Maxxxine, the third one. I'm so excited to see it!
Totally Killer was also so so good!!!
21. Favourite horror film that features mainly/only female characters- Hmmm... probably Jennifer's Body (2009)? I didnt like it much the first time I saw it, but when I rewatched it at a valentines day viewing at the cinema I l o v e d it all of a sudden XD
28. Favourite lgbtq+ horror film- Ummmm only thing thats coming to mind, apart from Jennifer's Body, is Seed of Chucky?? Not sure if it counts, but I do love that one ^^ XD
45. Favourite horror film that features your favourite horror trope- Oooh, I had to look up some horror tropes here and pick a favourite XD It was hard!! But I do love it when a bunch of random people who barely know eachother get stuck together in a terrible situation. My favourite of that is either The Mist (2007) or Rogue (2007)!
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7. peppered kisses
"Freddy, careful with Trinket's ear, now."
"Mrooooaah."
"You're quite welcome, son. Wolfe, Lee, oatmeal's for eating, not throwing."
"We didn't do anything!"
"Not yet. Vesper, now I think about it, don't forget your Celestial lessons this afternoon."
"Okay, Dad."
"Your enthusiasm is noted. Your mother should be here about—"
"Now?"
Percy looked up from his observation of little Freddy—who had backed away from Trinket's ears but was still eyeing them with fascination—as his wife strode into the room. Two months pregnant and requisitely refusing to slow down, Vex was already distinctly windswept after an early morning hunt, though she seemed to have thankfully cleaned the gore off this time. (Leona and Wolfe had thought she looked so cool, and she did, but Freddy had been nearly inconsolable.)
"Magnificent timing as always, darling," said Percy.
"Why, thank you." Vex tossed her braid over her shoulder—a little out of habit, but mostly to show off. "What's on the menu this morning?" she asked breezily.
"Oatmeal, toast and jam, orange juice, and Laina brewed some lovely bergamot tea," said Percy. "Whoops—!"
He lunged forward just in time to catch Leona's glass, which sloshed dangerously as it teetered. He pushed it gently back onto its coaster and met Leona's downcast eyes. "Sorry, papa," she mumbled.
"It's alright, dear," Percy said soothingly. "Accidents happen. Just try to be a bit more careful, that's all." His daughter was a fierce little spitfire and certainly a troublemaker, but she was terribly sensitive about making mistakes. He'd have to get her talking more with Keyleth when he could.
"Our home would fall apart without you, darling," said Vex as she served herself a bowl of oatmeal.
"Thank you, dear, but I'm not the one who woke up at gods-know-when. How was the hunt? Freddy, careful!"
Freddy stopped with a jerk, barely avoiding trodding on Trinket's tail, but the momentum still carried. He fell forward onto the dining room floor with a yelp.
"Freddy!" Vex cried, putting down her dishes and immediately crouching down next to him. "Are you alright?"
But Freddy just looked up and blinked owlishly, as though merely surprised by the turn of events. "Okay, mama," he said.
Vex sighed. "Alright, love. Try to be more mindful, okay?"
Freddy nodded. "Okay." He always paid a bit more attention when Vex was teaching—less, Percy suspected, to do with his namesake and more to do with those watchful eyes he always got whenever he could see the Parchwood from a window.
Vex stood and picked up her plate and glass, expertly winding her way around Freddy and Trinket to take a seat next to Percy at the dining table. "Hunt was alright," she said. "All just game this time, no magical creatures."
"Good," Percy said. "We've had a spate of them lately, from what you've said."
Vex nodded, swallowing a spoonful of oatmeal. "It's a bit unusual, but it could have just been an active breeding season for them. I'll need to keep an eye on the old grey render caves, and of course the owlbear dens."
Percy smiled. "Our home would fall apart without you, darling," he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek.
"Eeeewww!" cried Leona.
"Gross!" Wolfe yelled.
Percy looked over at the table, brows raised, to see the tail end of an eyeroll from Vesper. His lips quirked. "What's that, children?" he asked, scooting his chair right next to Vex's. "You think I don't kiss your mother enough? I quite agree."
As though reading his mind, Vex leaned away from her breakfast in time for Percy to take her cheeks in his hands. He grinned at the expectant way she looked at his lips and winked. "In a minute, love," he teased, before pressing quick kisses all over her face. Her cheeks, forehead, and nose were still a bit salty with sweat, but Percy cared little—both because his wife was giggling delightedly in spite of herself and because his children were having conniptions.
"Dad, stop being gross!" whined Vesper.
Percy looked up and smirked over at Leona and Wolfe, who were simultaneously pretending to retch onto the floor. "Terribly sorry," he said. "What were you—"
"Oh, no, you don't," said Vex, guiding him by the jaw back to her. "Pay up, Percival."
Vesper buried her head in her hands, Wolfe and Leona dove out of their chairs, Freddy toddled over to see what all the fuss was about, and Trinket lowed in what could only be described as exasperation. Percy wouldn't know—he was rather preoccupied at the moment.
2d20 kiss prompts
#perc'ahlia#percahlia#percy de rolo#vex'ahlia#critical role#de rolo family#quarter elves#otp: it's yours (my heart and my judgment)#biting (burr writing)
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Stream-of-consciousness thoughts as I watch Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Episodes 3-4
I’m already getting Five Night’s at Freddy’s vibes from this episode.
That kid trapped in the claw machine is surprisingly supportive.
How is it April’s fault that Alberto broke down after a kid threw an entire pint of root beer into his mouth?
Where is the manager? This kind of thing should be his job!
How many times have the boys masqueraded as birthday robots to get free pizza from this place?
“I upgraded my upgrade in the middle of my upgrade.”
Honestly Donnie’s upgrades to the band are super cool - just look at that fluidity!
Ah. Yes. There’s the chaos.
Poor Alberto…
WHERE is the kitchen staff? Freddy’s is better staffed than this!
OH GEEZ HE’S SENTIENT NOW
“You know what? Turns out I cannot fix this.”
“Who wants to play a little game of ‘Running to Safety’?”
Seriously, WHERE is this manager? This kind of detachment from the business day is SUPER unprofessional.
You know what, better question: WHERE ARE TIMMY’S PARENTS?!
Has that poor child been trapped in the claw machine this whole time??
PRESIDENT PEPPERONI???
That wasn’t even the highest scoring slot in Skeeball! I should know - that game used to be my jam.
The manager absolutely bought himself that trophy.
“I’m gonna crack you open like a birthday piñata!”
“You can’t be the king of birthday parties without having one of your own!”
APRIL NO! Donnie actually got through to him with that cake and song.
Ugh. With the way that cake crumbled, I think the birthday kids dodged a bullet by not eating it.
The manager sure isn’t happy and April lost her job, but at least Timmy had the best birthday of his life.
Do we ever circle back to Alberto not being 100% dead? That’d be pretty cool.
---
Aah! This is where the worm guy comes from!
EW GROSS DON’T KISS THAT MIRROR! Do you see those stains?!
How is this man able to pay the rent for that apartment as a giant worm.
Raph is really attached to that hippo suit.
WHY does Donnie have a bottle of female hippo scent?
WHERE did Warren get a piece of flypaper that big?
D’aww! Mikey in the background just vibing out on the spring ride.
LEO WHAT DID YOU DO-
“He was ON my HEAD. I PANICKED.”
Pfft! The boys just leave Warren in the park to regenerate with his insides on the outsides.
WHERE did Warren get those fully functional non-integrated prosthetic legs?
Yo Warren don’t throw Clem’s phone at him! He was nice enough to let you borrow it in the first place!
“You ruined that woman’s 95th birthday.”
Raph: “Be careful.” *shoves Mikey through a hole in the roof to a 20ft drop*
OH. OOOOH, NO. NO NO NO. I HATE WARREN’S BUFF WORM LOOK-
“He’s Current Occupant!”
“I am Current Occupant!”
“Finally! The thing we actually care about!”
“This has been the WORST mating season!” Hypno have-…have you been through more than one…?
I am absolutely stealing Hypno’s hypno scream for later use.
WAS HYPNO GOING TO JUST DISEMBOWEL MIKEY RIGHT THERE ON THE FLOOR? GOOD LORD!
Gotta say, I’m a sucker for villains fighting to protect heroes because “I’M the only one allowed to kill them!”.
WARREN! Put those worm nips away!!!
Leo absolutely knows who Warren is. He’s just messing with him at this point.
---
How fast were these Jupiter Jim movies being churned out if there were sixty of them made in, like, just a few decades?
“OH NO! A MUTANT! …oh, wait. We’re mutants, too.”
These boys don’t understand how money works, and that’s a Vibe.
I want to know how Repo Mantis holds things with those claws.
Aaaaa! A Tototo reference!!!
So…are all of these mutants the result of the Oozesquitos? Or were there mutants/Yokai living in and around New York before then?
PUPPIES! PUPPY PUPPY PUPPY PU-. Ahem. Yes. Puppies.
“That honestly tastes exactly like sunshine.”
Donnie: “We’ve got to be tough with him. Hard as nails!”
Mikey: *finishes his lemonade* “Hard as nails!”
Todd hasn’t made a payment in two years?? My GUY, how do you still have functioning utilities?!
“I’m in something squishy. I AM IN SOMETHING SQUISHY.”
Even that umbrella is threadbare…
I love that it was Donnie’s idea to build a brand new puppy sanctuary to trade for the RV.
WHERE did all of this raw material come from??
ngl the end result is pretty darn beautiful.
Was that moon buggy always fully functional and fully fueled? Or did Repo Mantis fix it up himself?
WHY DOES THAT MOON BUGGY HAVE A FUNCTIONAL TURBO MODE???
Those pedestrians are having a terrible day, but honestly? They’ve probably had worse.
So uh…how is Donnie planning to get that moon buggy down into the sewers?
---
Do the boys have an entire arcade room all to themselves in the Lair? That’s so cool!!
Splinter has the cutest darn sneeze I’ve ever heard and that’s not fair.
Splinter: “I feel terrible. Do I look terrible? Be honest.”
The boys: *all screaming*
Raph, lying through his teeth: “You look great!”
I absolutely do not trust Donnie with uranium.
I’m with Leo - matching unicorn onesies would be adorable.
“Buckle up, boys. It’s about to get weird.”
How fast does Splinter’s fur grow back if, every year, when he inevitably gets sick and feels too hot from the fever, he shaves himself bald?
“He loves pizza in confined spaces you can barely breathe in!”
These stage names are killing me but in the best way.
How badly did these bouts of sickness go for them before they figured out these elaborate plans and procedures to deal with them? Did one of the boys miraculously miss out on the bug one year and saw the chaos from the outside?
Stage 6: Fan Fiction.
Listen. Listen. I know a couple spoilers about this show. How could I not? That said: IS SPLINTER WRITING FAN FICTION ABOUT HIMSELF???
Leo just becomes a big ol’ cuddle bug when he’s sick.
I don’t believe stage seven lasted nearly as long as the boys think it did. I think Splinter was messing with them.
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Dear Billy: how did you end up with such a fucking stranglehold on this show? Rest in Pieces you fucking dweeb.
1.) These agents are terrible at talking to teenagers.
2.) I wanna brush Jonathan’s hair. Just because it looks like he hasn’t done it in a while.
3.) I am glad Max is admitting it as soon as she figures out that she’s cursed. I think everyone at this point is tired of the ‘got bit by a zombie and hides it’ shit. Like yeah, she hid headaches and shit, but those are normal trauma things.
4.) Yeah, you wield that lamp, Steve.
5.) I know it’s mostly for the audience but Dustin saying they have bigger problems and then looking at Max should be absolutely incomprehensible to Lucas at this point.
6.) Erica is painting a mini and I love her. Oh Jason is talking to her. Erica, kick Jason’s ass. But also, ERICA, DON’T FUCKING TELL PEOPLE THAT SHIT. GODDAMN IT.
7.) I adore Steve’s ‘a little humility’ line and then sitting down like that. Lmao
8.) Murray is right. You can’t be late to a ransom exchange. That’s kind of dire. Also, you’re in Alaska. They’re in California. What the fuck are you gonna do for your kids from here?
9.) I haven’t mentioned in a while that stranger things or Netflix or both filmed in a holocaust site and then turned it into a tourist airbnb. That’s fucked up, y’all.
10.) of course the boring feds are watching boring golf.
11.) Mike, you literally can’t even tell Will that you need to tell El that you love her. How are you gonna tell El that you love her?
12.) Jonathan’s got PLANS. PIZZA PLANS.
13.) Does Argyle give that pineapple spiel every time?
14.) Lucas, Steve, and Dustin are all idiots if they didn’t immediately recognize these as goodbye-I’m-dead-we-failed letters.
15.) since when does max know a good lawyer. Is it Saul Goodman?
16.) Robin can not walk in heels.
17.) Robin to the rescue with an infodump filled with some laws. It actually works. I’m in love with Robin. Does anyone else think Nancy fell just a tiny bit in love with her after that speech? Loved the low five, btw, babes.
18.) ???????????????????????? Ok Yuri.
19.) Actually I’ve done a rapid turnabout. I love Yuri. He’s a goofy little cartoon man.
20.) Hopper with a stick vs guard with a gun. Who will win? Obviously hopper. Oh god, not the gross foot again. And now the sequel, Hopper with a chain vs guard with a gun. Well, a guard with a gun and then a wrench and then a gun again. Damn that gun was loud.
21.) Hopper did you not put your shoe back on?
22.) THat fucking explosion was hilariously big.
23.) None of these Russians can. Aim for shit.
24.) Hey, kids, I know one of you is cursed, but could you wear your seatbelts?
25.) I love Max so much and I’m gonna rip Vecna apart just for hurting Max. But also why did her mom just kind of leave her there zoning out???
26.) Robin and Nancy are a dream team.
27.) oh they fully copied Silence of the Lambs for this shit. Lmao
28.) Is that Robert Englund? I recognize him from his voice and silhouette. Oh hell yeah it is him. Casting Freddy Krueger in a role like this is actually very fun. Also the way they did his makeup/prosthetics is once again way cooler and more interesting and dare I say creepier than literally all the Vecna corpses combined.
29.) [emotional, tender music playing] over Will and Mike’s little talk. Friends. Best friends. Sure.
30.) Oh damn. People with guns. Honestly this is too much stress to put a fun stoner under.
31.) Okay Hop has a bit to go to get to the fucking church. Oh nvm. He’s like, there already.
32.) This escape is brought to you by JIF’s creamy peanut butter. When you have a busted foot and are on the run from Russian guards, there’s only one type of peanut buttery goodness that will keep you going.
33.) HEY. DUFFER BROTHERS. IT’S NOT SHOCKING IF YOU HAVE EVERY SINGLE FUCKING PLAN IN THE SHOW GO TO SHIT.
34.) The timeline of this season is extra stupid.
35.) Flashback time. “This was a SPAWN OF SATAN!!!’ It killed a rabbit. Like yeah later it turns into hallucinations but at first it was literally just killing small animals. Virginia’s death is so fucking goofy. Oh, Victor Creel was a war criminal. Super not understanding why Henry Creel did all this shit.
36.) Oh, my girls have been found out.
37.) March 29, 1967 to July 4, 1985. Here lies a dipshit.
38.) Max, I love you, but this dream is a tiny bit stupid.
39.) I don’t think the Duffer Brothers have ever mourned someone they hated. Especially not a family member. If I ever rewrite this scene, I’m going in a very different direction.
40.) Steve’s Overprotective Dad Senses are tingling. And he’s RIGHT. Also, I just realized that their eyes don’t go white, they go milky. Their eyes aren’t even rolled back. They go milky and bloodshot for some reason.
41.) Can we talk about how Billy the Racist Shithead got to be in this show and come back way more than LITERALLY EVERY OTHER DEAD PERSON COMBINED? Fuck this douche.
42.) Okay I’m gonna be real with you, but if Billy turned into Vecna, I’d laugh my ass off.
43.) Robin is the one who figured out the music.
44.) I love the music thing but I think there should also be the option of beating Vecna if you just fucking forgive yourself.
45.) Me walking through Vecna’s nightmare mindscape: Hey, have you ever seen that one melting clocks painting? Fuckin’ wild, right? I think you’d be into it. Anyway, I’ve done worse to myself, you ABSOLUTE FUCKING AMATEUR.
46.) Like for real, have the Duffers ever truly hated themselves? Because these Vecna visions have been kind of tame in comparison.
47.) The montage of moments actually is very cute.
48.) I bet some freaks on ao3 have done weird tentacle porn about Vecna.
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larry walking into freddys apartment like "damn bitch you live like this"
#reservoir dogs#larry dimmick#freddy newandyke#freddy i love you but your apartment is gross#please put the spagettios in the trash#cute moment where embarrassed flustered freddy watches as#larry admonishes him and tidies up against his protests#larry doesn't want freddy living like that
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Pest of the west
Toonjuice x reader
Warning cringe
Gender neutral pronouns, pregnancy is mentioned once, also reader is forced to wear a dress
A shameless episode rewrite, swapping lydia for y/n and making it into a reader insert, I can not stress this enough, I just rewrote the episode to fit what I wanted, If this goes over well i might do more episode rewrites
Toonjuice takes you to the old west to goof off, and shit gets bad when an out law named bully the crud falls in love with you
"Come to the netherworld he said, it'll be fun he said, we'll go to the old west, you could use a good time, god" you grumbled to yourself, here you were handcuffed, wearing the ugliest, largest wedding dress you've ever seen in your life, hell, the size of the dress was the second reason stopping you from running from this cruel fate, the first being the groom. Not only were you handcuffed, your soon to be husband had a vice grip on your arm, a giant bull of a monster, Bully the Crud, you had no idea why this bastard wanted you, or why beetlejuice, scared out of his wits, left you to fend for yourself, all you did know was that you were screwed.
...
Finally friday, it's been a long rough work week, between overtime, and unreliable coworkers, and your bastard of a boss using you as a punching bag, you were beat.
Home again, you toss your bag and coat on the couch as you pass the living room, your apartment was small and quiet. You head to your room to finally change out of these work clothes.
Passing the full length mirror in your room, out of the corner of your eye you notice the reflection wasn't yours.
"Hey BJ" you say casually, not bothering to look his way as you dug around your dresser for something more comfortable.
"Its about time you finally came around babes"
"Yeah, overtime again" you sigh
"Gross"
"Tell me about it mr I dont have a job" you laugh, turning to the mirror to see that beetlejuice was gone.
"Huh" you mumble scooping up your change of clothes "guess he had things to do?" You mumble.
Just then, you jump as the television in your bedroom turns on, loud static noises buzz from the speakers before an image settles on screen.
"Beetlejuice ?"
Your television lights up showing a desert like scenery, with cactus, and wired fences, and there was beetlejuice, dressed in cowboy attire
"Thats my name, and cow poking is my game,Are you tired of the same old same old boring modern breather life style?"
"Yeah" you chuckle
"Are ya in desperate need for a change of pace? Then mosey on down to the nether world's wild west rude ranch, conveniently located in tombstone scareizona"
"Theres a wild west in the netherworld? Like cowboys and stuff?" The ghoul had your full attention now, maybe sometime goofing off in the netherworld could do you some good, and the wild west would seem like something new and fun,
"Cowboys, cowghouls, just spout those magic b words and we'll be ghost town bound"
what's the worst that could happen?
"Beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!" You shout in a hurry, and in a flash you were gone.
And there you were in the scenery you saw on your television, sand, cactus, cow skulls, all the cliches of an old west movie. Your work clothes now replaced with more appropriate attire, a black cowboy hat, with a matching vest, a soft blue coloured puffy sleeved shirt, with a dusty blue neckerchief, black pants, with a big belt, and some big black boots, you look liked you walked out of freddy pharkas frontier pharmacist, but appreciated the wardrobe change, your clothes always changed when beetlejuice dragged you into the netherworld, you were used to it by now.
"Beetlejuice?" You look around, the ghost was no where to be seen
"Oh bury me~ on the lone prairie~"
The ground next to you shakes before beetlejuice unearths himself "welcome to the netherwest babes! I'm your ghost host with the most, should you have any questions, I'll be sure awnser them, as obscurely as possible" the ghoul proudly proclaims as he struts away from the grave he pulled himself out of.
"So this is the netherwest, it looks fun"
"Of course babes, it has everything an old west motife should have, sun, sand, more cliches then you can shake a stick at" the ghost hollers shaking a stick at a cow skull
"Sounds like a blast beej" you grab his arm eager to see the sights.
"And dont you worry toots, if you're fretting on being bush wacked by bad guys, you're fretting for nothing"
"Oh? You some kind of old west hero?" You asked amused by his sudden confidence
"You kidding babes? Nobody messes with the pest of the west, I'll show ya what I mean later" he cackles leading you into town
"Pest is right" you chuckle
...
The two of you were having a blast, beetlejuice eagerly showing you the sights, dragging you around town, the two of you laughing and carrying on, you really needed this after such a shitty work week, you could always rely on beetlejuice to change your mood for the better.
It was all fun and games until your ghost with the most got kicked by a horse into a trough of dirty water. You were trying not to laugh at him as you helped him out.
"This has got to be the closest thing I've taken ta a bath in months" he grumbled
"Its surely an improvement" you laugh, hoisting you friend out of the water
"Excuse me, allow me to introduce myself" an unfamiliar voice interrupts the two of you, standing in front of you was a man shaped like a dartboard and a tiny purple guy who's shirt was way too long for him.
"Howdy there stranger, The name's casualty, hop along casualty, I'm the mayor of this here tombstone and this is fester, we all in the market for a new sheriff, know anybody whod be intrested in such a noble and HIGH paying job?"
"What-" was all you manged to get out, before beetlejuice perked up
"DO I? Look no further, I am the slob for the job!" Beetlejuice lunges forward eager to shake the mayor's hand, before you pull him back
"Uh beej? You a law man? Do you even know any laws?"
"Dont rob people"
"I set the bar too low, werent we just here to have fun? Besides sheriff? That's alot of hard work" the ghoul's one weakness, maybe the mentioning of work would be enough for him to decline and the two of you could go back to goofing off.
"WORK?! YUCK!" Beetlejuice shouts, you smile, theres the ghost you know and love more then you're willing to admit.
"Maybe the breather is right, maybe the job would be too much for this tender foot to handle" casualty loudly proclaims as he and his sidekick walk away
"TENDER FOOT!?"
Great, now they had him, beetlejuice was always a sucker for reverse psychology.
Beetlejuice proceeds to 'show off' his so called slime shooting skills, saying he could shoot his hat before it touched the ground.
The hat went up into the air and beetlejuice went trigger happy, the ghost hit everything BUT the hat, you were smart enough to take cover, the ghost proved in a matter of seconds slime shooting was something he had to cross out on his resume, as he proceeded to cover the towns folk in slime.
But yet the mayor was still eager to hire him.
"Beetlejuice come on, no offense, but you are the worst guy for the job, you lie, cheat, steal, hell you're wanted in 5 different states, plus we just got here, why would anyone want you to be sheriff? Theres got to be something wrong" you pleaded with him, your words fell of deaf ears, beetlejuice was too excited with all the glory that came with his new title.
"Beetlejuice, I wouldnt do this if I were you-" you try again only to be shoved aside by the mayor, who was more the ready to slap that star shaped badge on Beetlejuice's chest.
"Congratulations son, you're exactly what were looking for!"
"This us a joke right?" You groaned
The mayor dragged beetlejuice to the group of townsfolk who gathered in the street to see what all the commotion was about
"Attention yall, I'd like ya to meet out new sheriff"
The crowd cheered and beetlejuice drank in all the attention and praise, while you just stood there trying to put two and two together
"Oh, I forgot to mention, bully the crud will be here at high noon" the mayor starts
"And hes gonna do terrible, horrible things to you-" fester continues
"Great" you grumble, there it was, so much for a fun time.
A bell gong rings through the town, and in a matter of seconds the towns folk were gone, leaving only you and beetlejuice standing in the middle of the street, you pull your phone out of your pocket, though you had no service, it still worked like a clock, time in the netherworld worked differently, though it was evening when you left, it was day time when you arrived, your phone always acted accordingly, weird, but you werent complaining.
"Noon" you say in a whisper, you stomach now turning with dread, what did beetlejuice just sign up for?
The ground rumbles and you grab the ghoul's arm out of nervousness and in a sandstorm cloud of dust a pig pulled carriage charges into tombstone, making a hasty hault in front of the two of you. The door swings open and there stands what you can assume is bully the crud, a big bull of a man, snarling and staring down the two of you.
"I'm looking for trouble" he growls
Beetlejuice snorts "never met 'em, you know anyone by that name babes?" The ghoul gives you a nudge, you shake your head
"That ain't what I ment, that was a figure of speech! Which one of the two of you are the sheriff?!"
You clamp your mouth shut, you werent gonna rat out your friend or take the blame, beetlejuice did the same
Bully huffs through his nose before grabbing you by your neckerchief
"You better spill-" in the rough movement of grabbing you, your hat got knocked off, your eyes no longer hidden in shadow.
"You better, better- why, arent you a pretty little thing" bully sets you down, and hands you your hat "why you ring my bell little meadow muffin, hows 'bout you give ol'bully a kiss" you cringe at his change in mood and utter out a "what?" More confused then anything else, not to mentioned disgusted
Beetlejuice quickly pulls you away, a tad angry over how this over grown hamburger was now hitting on you, HIS best friend.
"I'm the sheriff round these parts, and this here is my deputy" the ghoul snatches your hat from you hands a roughly puts it back on your head
"I never agreed to that" you grumble adjusting your hat.
"YOU'RE THE NEW SHERIFF?!" the bull bellowed, followed by a fit of laughter
"And who might you be?" Beetlejuice puffed out his chest squaring up to the monster
"I'm bully the crud, the meanest ombre that ever licked a law man" he shouted
"Ya know you look alot bigger then your eight by tens, were you sick on picture day?" Beetlejuice laughs pulling a photo from his pocket
"Enough small talk, I came to run you outta town and that's what I aim ta do" the bully snorts
"Alright bully, make your move" beetlejuice snorts reaching for his slime shooter
In a matter of second the monster grabs beetlejuice with one hand, tightly wrapped about his gut, squeezing the afterlife out of him
"Nice move" beetlejuice croaks
"Wait!" You shout, dead or not that's got to hurt
Bully drops beetlejuice, his attention now on you
"Sweet little meadow muffin, ya change your tune about giving ol' bully that kiss?" He coos, quickly making his way infront you amd grabbing your hands, his voice was much less harsh when addressing you, it was nauseating
"Ugh" you flinch, youd prefer the same hostility he's shown beetlejuice over this 'sweet' side in a heart beat
As disgusted as you were, this little exchange, it was enough of a distraction to get beetlejuice back on his feet.
In a flash your ghost host with the most pulls you away from the Bull's grasp
"Back off bovine breath" he snorts jabbing bully in chest "I hope you dont mind me asking, but what's your BEEF with this town anyway? Cuz we'd kinda like ya to just MOO-ve along" with each cow related joke beetlejuice pushed bully back away from you, you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh, despite Beetlejuice's confidence, you werent too sure how dangerous this guy really was, and besides, beej was doing enough laughing for the both of you.
You remained silent watching beetlejuice roll on the floor laughing at his own jokes, that is until Bully has had enough of the ghoul's shenanigans and snaps and screams
"NOBODY MAKES A LAUGHING STOCK OUT OF BULLY THE CRUD!"
Beetlejuice hops back to his feet and laughs
"Beej, I think you should get serious here" you urge, yes you know beetlejuice was a powerful ghost, but he was also a dumbass.
He snorts "come on babes, you worry to much, this over sized hamburger is all bark and no bite, ya know what I mean?" Beetlejuice gives you a half hearted shrug, turning away from Bully.
Of course beetlejuice wasnt as freaked out as you were, he wasnt the one getting kissy faces from a cow.
"Relax babes, remember what I told ya earlier? Nobody messes with the pest of the west-!?" Beetlejuice freezes, while he spent his time ignoring bully and flapping his gums at you, the bull took his opportunity and painted a large yellow stripe on Beetlejuice's back.
"THE SHERIFF GOT A YELLOW STREAK DOWN HIS BACK!" A voice screams
were the towns folk watching this whole mess?
"You calling me a chicken?!" Beetlejuice screams back
"Boo" bully leans into him and whispers him Beetlejuice's ear
And that was all it took to turn your friend into a giant yellow chicken
Beetlejuice scrambled and clucked away from bully, hopping on the nearest horse and riding put of town.
You were in utter disbelief, he left you behind
"Fuck" was all you could say watching your friend ride out of view, you were now screwed.
You were pulled from the spot and hoisted up into bully's arms
"Now that I ran sheriff stinko out of town, let's have us a wedding♡"
"I just have one question for you"
"Well sure there honey"
"What's the capital on Thailand?"
"What?"
"Its Bangkok!" You shout slamming the heel of your boot into bully's crotch
Bully drops you and screams, you quickly scramble away thankful that stupid joke worked.
Your freedom was shortly lived, you didnt get far, no building would let you in, citizens too frightened to what Bully might do to them if they were caught harboring someone he wanted, which was fair in a sense.
Bully pulls you back into his arms and laughs "you should be more careful there my little meadow muffin, you dont wanna damage the family jewels, we're gonna need em"
Beetlejuice wherever you are please come back.
As you were being prepared/forced to marry a literal monster beetlejuice was in the middle of the desert not too worried about you, back to his old abnormal self, arguing with a horse
"So your not gonna head back to tombstone? What about your friend?"
"Y/n? They're fine, they're the toughest living thing I've ever had the privilege to scare" he waves his horse off, despite all the teasing the ghoul gave you he held a very high opinion of you and just assumes you could take on bully no problem. "They could take on a while herd of Bully the cruds, no sweat"
....
"Y/n's sure taking their sweet time, I'm beginning to worry"
"I told ya, bully the crud is one tough side of beef, do you have any idea what's gonna happen to your little friend if you dont run him outta town?" The horse nags
Beetlejuice snorts "yeah, like I can see the future-" in a flash Beetlejuice's cowboy attire was replaced with to resemble swami, with a big crystal ball nestled in his lap
The ghoul snorts out a laugh
"Now let's see if I can get a clear picture on this thing" beetlejuice focuses on the orb and what he sees makes his stomach turn, not only did you fail on rescuing yourself from his mess, you were forced into marriage with that monster, your living status was now gone, barefoot and pregnant, all because of him.
"Y/N! SAY IT AIN'T SO! Y/N AND BULLY ARE GONNA GET HITCHED!"
...
So here you were, hand cuffed, gagged, in the ugliest puffy dress you ever seen, standing before a minister with you future husband who had a vice grip on you and no way out, you were trapped, you couldnt run, you could barely speak, every objection from your mouth was quickly muffled by Bullys sweaty hands to the point the bull gagged you to make things easier for this mess of a ceremony, if you could manage a few words you would have said the B word 3 times before this got this far. Your time was running out, and your Hope's of beetlejuice coming to save you were getting slimmer by the second.
"We are gathered here today to join these two in matrimony, be there any man, or beast" the father gesturing to the side of the church filled with what you could only assume is Bullys extended family. "Who feels that this here wedding should not take place, let them hold up their hand, or hove, or forever hold their cud" the minister laughs nervously
This was it, you were doomed, there was nothing you could do, you stood there staring forward, utterly lost in despair.
"GET ON WITH IT!" Bully bellows tugging you in closer, this had to be a nightmare right? Any second your alarm would go off right?
"That's it! The only thing left to say is, I now pronounce you cow and-!"
"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE PARSON! I OBJECT!"
You whip your head around, knowing that voice anywhere, there he was, standing that the entrance of the hall, rushing towards you.
"This lil' thing is spoken for" beej spats before pulling you away from Bully, with a snap of the ghoul's fingers your restraints vanish, with your new found freedom you were quick to embrace him, silently thanking the stars he came back in the nic of time.
"How dare you try and marry MY fiance!"
"What?" You mumble
"Your fiance?! They ain't got a ring to prove that!"
"Oh?~" Beetlejuice grabs your wrist and shoves your hand in Bully's face, "then what's this?" Placed upon your middle finger was a very large, very tacky, bright green jewel on a black and white striped band, a ring that sure wasnt their 2 minutes ago.
"I-?!" The bully stutters
"You didnt notice? were you too busy forcing my little cockroach into this mess you couldnt be asked to see if they've been already spoken for, I bet you wouldnt listen to a word they said" each word the ghoul spoke he would jab the bull in the chest, he was really laying on the country twang, you couldnt help bit crack a smile knowing the danger of you being married to that monster was gone, not to mention Beetlejuice saying you were his fiance.
This mirth was short lived though, as Bully had had enough of Beetlejuice's shenanigans, with a snarl and a bellowing howl
"NOBODY CUTS OFF MY NUPTIALS AND GETS AWAY WITH! ITS TIME WE SETTLE THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"
"Yeah"
"AND THAT MEANS ONLY ONE THING"
"Name it"
"SLIMESHOOTERS AT 60 PACES"
"YOU GOT IT!"
Bully stomps out of the church to get ready for the dual
Beetlejuice quickly pulls you aside
"Alright babes, let's get out of here, just say those magic b words and we can amscray" he whispers to you
"We cant"
"right- WHAT?! WHY?! - I mean why? Cat got your tongue? Suddenly lost your voice? Or, oh no, dont tell me ya changed your mind and ACTUALLY WANT TO MARRY THAT CHUMP??" The ghoul grabs you shoulders and shakes you, as if to knock some sense into you
You brush his hands away "no, Beetlejuice, we cant leave, if we leave Bully is gonna destroy this town and everyone in it, I cant live with that on my shoulders" despite the fact that you hung around with a professional con man, you yourself were honest and kind, and to be the cause of such misery, you could never forgive yourself.
"Like I'm gonna lose sleep over that-" he grumbles
"Please beetlejuice, I'm asking you as a friend, and after you ditching me, I think you owe me" you gesture to the awful dress you were forced in, not to mention how if he was seconds late you could have been hitched to a literal monster.
"Fine" he grumbles
"Besides you're dead, what do you have to lose?"
Beetlejuice groans
"Also Can I ask one more thing of you Beej? Can you get me out of this dress?" You tug at the tooling, you could barely move and the fabric was quite itchy.
"Y/n! In front of so many people, and in a church! If you insist" the ghoul gingerly reaches for the the zipper on your dress before you swat his hand away, clearly embarrassed
"I ment with magic" you sigh not really in the mood for games
"Right, I knew that, just messing with ya" he chuckles sheepishly, with another snap you were back in your cowboy attire
"Thank you, now, what about bully?" You sneer
"Bully's got a date with the sheriff"
"No, we can beat him together" you give the ghoul a light punch in the arm, still alittle sore he left you behind.
...
Like any other western movie cliche, beetlejuice and bully square off in the center of town
"Please for the love of god cheat" you grumble watching this soon to be mess from the sidelines.
"That would be ideal, your friend there couldnt hit the ground with his hat" the mayor buts in to your mutterings
"But I think I have something dumb eniugh it might just work-" you muse before running off.
"This is it bully, it's time to separate the men from the bulls, theres no tomorrow, it's now or never, the cheese stands alone!"
"Quit staling and draw!" Bully sneers, absolutely fed up with Beetlejuice's nonsense.
"Draw? I'm a little rusty, but I'll give it a go" beetlejuice snorts swapping his cowboy hat for a beret, pulling a canvas and isle out of nowhere
"Now I'm gonna need ya to keep that pose for the next few hours-"
Bully screams in frustration, ripping the canvas away from Beej and slamming it over head
Beetlejuice unfazed snorts "I really get into my work"
"I'm gonna give you one last chance to draw beelejerk, or else I'm gonna start without ya, NOW DRAW!"
Beetlejuice swallows the lump in his throat "I guess this is it, theres no turning back now"
"Hold it!"
"Y/n!" Beetlejuice shouts, glad to see you
"Hey Bully I've change my mind about marrying you!" You shout
"WHAT!? Babes have you lost your mind?!"
"You have?! Oh honey I'd knew youd come around♡"
You run into the center of the action and with Bully distracted, you toss beetlejuice a different pistol
"Shoot!" You shout
"OH!" Beetlejuice fumbles with the gun before taking clear aim and firing, but instead of slime, a red sauce came out, covering bully, you let out a sigh you didnt know you were holding, the fact that beetlejuice ACTUALLY hit bully was nothing other then luck.
"Huh?! BARBEQUE SAUCE?! GET IT OFF OF ME" Bully screams
"I dont know about you babes but I could eat" beetlejuice growls scraping a knife and fork together.
Bully scared for his afterlife screams and scrambles out of tombstone, off into the sunset and out of sight.
"Thank god" you sigh, absolutely physically and emotionally exhausted
"We did it babes!" Beetlejuice pulls you into a side hug
"Yeah" you chuckle
"Sheriff we cant thank you enough" the mayor shakes Beetlejuice's hand
"Yup, bully the crud wont be bothering this town anymore, so long as you keep plenty of barbeque sauce on hand, but alas it's about time I hung up the old slimeshooters" beetlejuice sighs
The mayor of tombstone drops to the ground and hugs Beetlejuice's knees "NO! dont quit, is it because of me, because I got you ti take the job with trickery, dishonesty, and deceit?"
Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "heck no I like that in a guy, but no, I'm hanging up my guns for personal reasons, all this mud are ruining my boots"
The mayor sighs "we lose alot of them that way..."
"We should get going Beej" you finally interrupt, desperate to get home and rest
"So babes, how's bout a thank you for your hero huh~?" Beetlejuice leans into you wiggling his eyebrows
"A 'thank you' to the guy who's fault I almost married to cow?" You snort out a laugh
"I came back in the nic of time didnt I? Come on, come on, come on~" the ghoul teases nudging his elbow into your arm.
You yank beetlejuice by his neckerchief pulling him close to your level, that was enough to get him to shut his mouth, and in an instant you give him a quick, soft kiss on his cheek.
Letting him go, he remains stunned, you give the ghoul a light punch in the arm
"Come on beetlejuice, let's go home"
"Right!"
It was odd, everytime you've shown beej kindness or compassion, he would always go off saying it was 'gross' but this time that wasnt that case, he remained silent, which after the day you had, you were fine with that.
Bonus
To be honest you were exhausted, between a rough work week, and that whole emotional nearly married to a monster thing, you nearly passed out when you returned home.
But now all that was behind you and you were home again, safe and unwed.
In the netherworld, the ghoul who dragged you into the situation/ saved you, was laying awake in his bed, hand gingerly placed upon the cheek you so quickly kissed.
Yes beetlejuice has kissed you multiple times, but as a joke, sort of, but this? You kissing him? With genuine feeling?
"Gross" was all he could utter, hand still holding the spot where your lips met his cold face.
#beetlejuice x reader#toonjuice x reader#cartoon beetlejuice x reader#let me know if this episode rewrites are a wanted thing
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Hey, firstly I wanted to say that you were one of the people responsible for me getting back to writing. Your writing leaves me deep in my feelings, I feel like I'm on a boat finally knowing where to roam.
I would so much like to see you writing what Fred and George Weasley would be like ruining the reader. I don't want it to roll incest, I'd just love to be their girlfriend.
Ew that sounds gross but they are so hot.
pairing(s): fred weasley x reader x george weasley
word count: 1.6k
warning(s): 18+, dom/sub roles, mean dom!fred, softer dom!george, sub!reader, orgasm control/edging, bondage, use of a blindfold, use of sex toys, anal sex, subspace, not twincest, degradation, slight praise
a/n: once again, thank you for such lovely requests. your little comment about my writing means the absolute world. i can only hope i did your request justice! also, totally not gross. it's super hot.
“Look at her,” you heard Fred say in awe. “All spread out, just for us Georgie.”
“Oh, all the things we could do to her right now,” George teased, only making you squirm more in front of them.
“I’m content just watching her fall apart. You?” Fred asked, his voice growing more distant as he took a seat across the room.
Upon hearing that, you scrambled for a reprieve. Your two boyfriends, Fred and George, had you tied to the bed in Fred’s room in their shared loft, blindfolded, with a vibrator attached to your clit. You had lost track of the amount of times they had edged you over and over and over again, but you knew you were hitting your limit. Your body was covered in sweat, your legs were shaking, and your muscles were tense. You could barely breathe but you managed to rasp out your pleas.
“No, please,” you gasped. “Please make it stop. Just want you both inside of me. Fuck, please,” you finished with a scream right as, presumably George, turned off the vibrator.
“What do you say Freddy?” George asked, the both of them still speaking as if you weren’t even there. It only turned you on more that all the decisions were in their hands. “You can’t possibly say no when she begs so pretty,” he added, and you could practically hear the smirk on his face.
“She only gets to cum tonight if both of our cocks are inside of her,” Fred declared, and his voice sounded closer now.
“Think you could handle that, my sweet girl?” George asked, brushing the hair off of your sweat stricken face.
“Please. Anything. Just need you both,” you begged, no dignity left to pretend otherwise.
It was silent for a moment, but then the vibrator was coming off of your clit and you were being slowly unbound.
“Fuck me,” you heard Fred whisper under his breath and you weren’t sure what he was referring to until you felt a pair of hands on your very swollen, throbbing cunt. “Such a pretty, pink swollen mess. And you’re so fucking wet you’re dripping.”
You could only whimper as his fingers explored you, both wanting him to stop and wanting him to give you so much more.
With no warning, you were being hoisted up until you were on your knees in the middle of the bed, the mattress dipping on either side of you as they both joined you on the bed.
“You sure you can handle this?” George asked again, always the one to treat you like fragile glass. Normally, you appreciated his tenderness, but right now you had a one track mind that was determined to get fucked into next week.
“Fuck, yes. Need it. Wanna see. Please,” you pleaded, nothing more than a stream of consciousness falling from your lips.
The blindfold that had been secured on your face was ripped off, your sight going from black only to be replaced with Fred’s face. And oh, was it a sight. He looked absolutely feral from just watching you be edged, and you desperately needed him to unleash himself on you.
He must have seen it written as clear as day in your eyes, because within the next blink he was dragging your bound hands upwards only to attach them to a chain that was hooked over the bed.
Oh.
Oh.
That was new.
Your eyes glazed over as you felt your body stretch to accommodate the new position, completely at their mercy in a way you had never been before. The twins worked in tandem to get you in the position they needed you in, your legs wrapped around Fred’s waist while George was supporting your back against his strong chest.
“I don’t plan on holding back,” Fred said lowly, his eyes boring into yours as he lined his cock up with your entrance. At the same time, you felt the all too familiar tingle of a lubing charm in your ass, making you shiver with anticipation.
“Don’t,” was your reply to Fred, causing him to practically growl before plunging into you. He effortlessly bounced you up and down his lengthy cock a few times before stilling, allowing George a moment to fully work his way into you.
Your head spun once you felt them both inside of you, your eyes hooded as your body adjusted to the fullness of it all. Luckily, they gave you a moment to compose yourself, long enough that you started helplessly grinding in between their bodies.
You felt Fred’s grip on your thighs tighten right before he began to move you again, and you knew just from his steel like grip that you were done for. He bounced you up and down on their cocks so harshly that with every downward movement they were hitting the deepest spots inside of you and practically pushing the moans and whines out of your body. It bordered on the delicate line between pleasure and pain that they were so good at riding with you it was intoxicating.
“You’re so fucking tight. Keep making those pretty little noises and I’m not gonna last much longer,” George groaned, his hands coming up to your waist to assist Fred in his efforts to move you.
“I can feel you fucking clenching around my cock, you little slut,” Fred growled through gritted teeth, the effort he was putting in to get you all there showing but he never faltered once. “You better not cum until I let you.”
“I won’t. I won’t. Please - just - fuck,” you ended with a groan, unable to even have a coherent thought as both of them continued to destroy you in tandem.
“Just what? Use your words,” Fred commanded menacingly, the look in his eyes not one to argue with.
You tried your best to form a thought, you really did, but the words just simply couldn’t come. Not when you felt like this. Not when you were so lost in pleasure that you felt like you could explode at any minute.
The only thing to break you out of your fog was George’s hand coming down to crack you right on the ass, the pain of it so intense you screamed as you scrambled to grip the rope supporting you even harder.
“I’d listen if I were you. Use your fucking words,” George said, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke, only to travel down to suck harsh bruises against your neck.
“Just - wanna - cum,” you moaned, your words punctuated every time they filled you to the hilt and fucked the air out of you.
“Better,” Fred commented, his grip on you only growing tighter as you all neared the edge. “But remember, if you cum before I tell you to, don’t think I won’t tie you up again with your pretty little vibrator and make you cum until you pass out.”
Just the thought had you moaning, your walls tightening around them both as you hurtled to your climax.
“There’s our little masochistic slut,” George managed a chuckle, but it was strained as he held himself back from cumming deep inside of you.
“So fucking tight. You’re just milking me, begging for our cum to fill you up,” Fred groaned, his head tipped back in pleasure, sweat collecting against his collarbones and forehead. He looked like a fucking Greek God as he continued to wreck you beyond thought.
Just as you began to lose yourself to the painful pleasure again, you heard the magic words you had been waiting for all night.
“Cum for us. I wanna hear you scream,” Fred said, his lips grazing yours as he finally gave you the permission you had so desperately craved.
It took one, two, three more impossibly deep thrusts until you climaxed with a scream to deafen all three of you. You lost yourself in your release, your entire body feeling somewhere between a livewire and utter numbness as wave after wave of pleasure finally crashed through you. It sounded so far away, but you heard twin groans before you felt the unmistakable sensation of them both cumming deep inside of you, painting your walls white with their release as they worked you through your orgasm.
You let your head fall on George’s shoulder as you settled into the floaty feeling an orgasm like this gave you, one so intense you could only focus on the feeling of your boyfriends’ bodies and their distant praise. Slowly, you felt yourself being gently let down from your bounds, you body masterfully balanced in between Fred and George’s until they laid you down against the pillows, both of them having pulled out at various points.
The three of you laid there for some time, both of the boys knowing just how fragile you were right now. Both of them were offering praises in their own ways, luring you back to them until you could finally latch on to their words and pull yourself back to reality.
In what felt like an eternity later, your eyes fluttered open to find George staring fondly down at you, Fred curled around the rest of your body to help ground you.
“There’s our sweet girl,” George said happily, placing a tender kiss on your still sweaty forehead.
“How are you feeling?” Fred asked quietly, gently rubbing a soothing hand up and down your thigh.
“Fucking amazing. Sore, but amazing,” you replied confidently.
“I’m sure you do, love. And maybe next time, we’ll have to try Fred’s little idea that got you so fucking worked up. I’d love to see you cum until you pass out,” George said with a cheeky grin, followed by Fred’s chuckle.
You could only roll your eyes at their antics, but you couldn’t help feel a rush of arousal go through you once more at what laid in store.
#harry potter#harry potter smut#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley smut#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley headcannon#fred weasley#george weasley imagine#george weasley drabble#george weasley smut#george weasley headcanon#george weasley
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➳it's good to see you again ♡ ☾
in which y/n l/n comes home from a 2 year long mission to subdue the rest of the escaped death eaters and meets her best friend, fred weasley, yet again.
fred weasley x fem!reader
word count: ±1.5k
tw: mentions of scars, nightmares, mentions of the war
drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!
my masterlist:D
ft. angelina and george
it's been a long day without you, my friend
and i'll tell you all about it when i see you again
it's good to see you again
y/n was sitting comfortably in the backseat of george's fancy car, earphones plugged in and listening to a song to drown out the sound of angelina and george talking about something they had seen on the news. her head was leaning against the window, her eyes drinking in the familiar view of london in nostalgia. it hurt her that she wasn't the only person who would see the beautiful city she'd known from the very beginning. and she missed it. angelina and george had picked her up from the quarantine centre after she had made a trip to albania for a couple of years with the rest of her auror unit to imprison the remaining death eaters.
albania had recently acquired many cases of dragonpox, and so all the unit members had to isolate in a little hotel by the edge of italy. it had been a few weeks since the start of the quarantine and now she was zooming along a british highway, ever so keen to see her friends and family again.
and fred.
fred was her best friend. they had been since 5th year. perhaps she was harbouring feelings for him, perhaps she wasn't.
and here she sat, curled up and watching the views, trying to decipher whether or not he'd be different. he had survived the war just barely. it would be acceptable for him to change.
did he still have the millions of freckles dotted along his face?
her face flushed just thinking about it. bringing her hands up to her cheeks she shook her head.
chile, y/n, he probably has a girlfriend. it's been two years, and he didn't like you two years ago, he won't like you now.
the thought alone made her frown.
"what's got you blushing and frowning like mad?" angelina looked at her through the mirror in the front of the car.
george whispered something in her ear and she giggled.
"y/n, is this possibly about a certain fred weasley?"
her eyes widened. "nope, not at all."
"really? so you were definitely not thinking about the amount of freckles my twin has on his face? hmm?"
"no! george, seriously?" she stuck my tongue out at him.
"or his ginger hair?" angelina added.
"no! you guys are idiots!" she folded her arms.
"and she's blushing again," angelina sniggered.
"stop!"
"it's okay, he blushes about you way more," george laughed, eyes on the road.
"stop, stop, stop!!!!!"
"it is true."
"no it isn't, okay? erm, i don't like him, he doesn't like me. we're best friends. you guys are gross."
she resumed looking out the window, shaking her head.
they had reached a pretty big house with two levels, with large windows that y/n would absolutely die to have and cute little bricks sticking out.
"what? i thought we were going back to my parent's house?"
"you wish."
"who are we visiting?"
"oh just a person i know from work," angelina said with a twinkle in her eyes.
"okay. did we bring anything?"
"just you," she replied, "me and george are heading back to our place. your stuffs at your parents."
george nodded.
y/n frowned, "okay."
she bounded up to the door and knocked a couple of times.
the door opened and she immediately began babbling off a greeting and an introduction without looking at the person.
"i'm y/n l/n, and i understand you're from angie's work! it's nice to meet yo-" her eyes were met by chocolate brown ones, framed by so many freckles. fred lived in this place?
"it's good to see you again, miss y/n l/n," he grinned and oh my oh my, y/n felt her heart skipping beats all over again.
fred was worried when there was silence, but he was pleasantly surprised when he felt arms wrap as much as they could around his waist. true to his nature, his cheeks turned as red as his hair.
he breathed in the smell of her hair, the smell of her and oh he had missed her so much.
"i missed you a lot," he mumbled, tightening his grip around her, "so so so so so much."
"me too, freddie," there that nickname was, and it made him possibly weak at how pretty she was and how pretty her voice was.
when she let go, he almost felt empty, and so he snaked an arm around her waist.
"your place is so beautiful, freddie!"
his secret was that he had bought it hoping that she would
live with him. he knew she loved beautiful windows and bay windows and balconies.
"not as beautiful as you, lovely."
and his eyes were graced by her flustered expression, her cheeks tinted the most delightful shade of pink.
"but the windows! gosh they're pretty."
"wanna live with me?" he dropped the question ever so casually.
"are you sure? i've got an apartment set up and all so it's no big deal-"
"no. i want you to live with me."
"then your wish is my command, i guess. i don't have much stuff though."
"that's fine! i knew you would say yes so i got a bedroom ready for you."
she hesitated. fred looked at her.
"is everything okay?"
"i-i don't want you to think that i'm best friends with you because you're rich or whatever and i feel like i'm taking advantage of your richness and it's not right?"
"you're not, okay?"
she nodded, still hesitating a little bit.
"if you really feel bad you can come visit me and george in the shop and do some type of customer service. you'll be paid."
"am i paying rent if i live here?" she asked.
"no, y/n, i own this place."
"don't you pay land tax?"
"yeah, but it's not that much."
"nope, i'm paying rent or you're not paying me for the shifts i do. or both. take your pick."
"i won't pay you for the shifts. is this really a big deal?"
"yes it is! it's money and morals. that's a very big deal."
"okay, fair."
"gimme a list of all my shifts please."
"nah, you pop in whenever you can."
"okay, when's rush hour?"
"hogsmeade weekends and thursdays."
☆
it was night. y/n couldn't sleep at all. she was lying in the insanely boujee king sized bed and the insanely comfortable sheets, and she still couldn't fathom why she couldn't sleep.
maybe it was because she always slept with one eye open in albania. habit.
so she was just sitting in her bed, looking around the room. she was tired, but she couldn't be untired.
and it would be selfish to disturb fred. but he had said his door was always open.
so she crept out and made her way through the corridors, finally stopping at a door which she hoped was fred's bedroom. it was half ajar, so she peeked her head around it.
he was asleep, a very thin blanket draped carelessly around his body, his ginger hair messy and his chest rising with every peaceful breath he took. his room was big and simple, cluttered in the most fred way.
she approached him, tapping him on the shoulder lightly.
"freddie??"
he opened his eyes drowsily, "mmm?"
"i can't sleep."
"'ave you tried countin' broomst'cks?"
"i can't sleep."
"'kay," he pulled her into his bed, wrapping his arms around y/n and tucking most of the gryffindor red blanket under her chin. it smelled like him, "this 'kay?"
fred was shirtless. y/n was blushing. "yeah."
"mm, have a good night, okay? i'm here, you're safe."
y/n nodded, feeling the most comfortable she had in two whole years, cuddling up to his chest as she fell into sleep.
sleep. she hadn't properly slept in two whole years. every night would be spent either patrolling or anxiously preparing for the next day. when she did get some shut-eye, it was broken and restless.
but her dreams were stopped with visions of terrifying death eaters casting sectumsempra onto the auror unit. she felt the pain she had endured through a long time ago. it left a scar on her back and imprints in her mind. it was impossible to forget. she remembered yelling as she saw another auror drop dead. running, running out of the hellhole of the death eater's base.
"y/n, y/n," fred was shaking her awake.
she was shaking, tears were running down her face. she fervently apologised to him.
"don't say sorry, lovely," he wiped the tears off of her face, "what was your dream about?"
"t-the mission, the death eaters w-were cutting people up and they got me."
"oh darling, why didn't you tell me this before?" he asked gently, cradling her head to his chest.
"it, it comes out at the worst times."
"well you're not in albania anymore, okay, love? you're here, in london, and you're safe. you're okay, you're fine."
she nodded, "sorry."
"don't you dare,
it isn't your fault. sleep, okay? i'll wait for you to go to sleep before i do, yeah?"
she nodded. her head fell onto his chest and fred traced gentle patterns on her back, whispering small nothings in her ear.
for the first time, it seemed like fred could watch her without repercussions. even with her tear-stained cheeks and wild hair, she was beautiful.
and when he had stayed up for hours into the night and morning for this girl, this was when he realised. he would do anything for her.
he loved her.
#fredweasley#fred weasley x y/n#frederick weasley#fred weasley x reader#gryffindor#hansel and gretel#fanfic#harry potter#hogwarts#hufflepuff#angelina johnson#y/n#harrypotter#battle of hogwarts#weasley#masterlist#readerinsert#oneshot#imagine#reader insert#harry#navigation#list#oneshots
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125,26 drabble (if possible smut) with OC🍊
Ty if you do this i love your works ♥️
Ooooh, yes! Thank you so much for the kind words. <3 I did indeed make it spicy; hope you enjoy!!
Pairing: Orange Cassidy x OFC.
Prompts: “Save some for me.” “Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep. Wait…are you…what?!”
Rating: M.
Warnings/Content: Smut!
Word Count: 1,981.
(I don’t own gif; credit to hanakimura!)
Sharing a room with Orange Cassidy was relatively uneventful. He functioned off of keeping it casual, taking it easy. And she did too, for the most part. Her and Cass had always been close, even from the early days. She would go so far as to call him one of her best friends and he would just nod if he ever got asked about it.
She didn’t know when the change happened, when her completely platonic thoughts shifted to something decidedly not in the same lane. Or area code.
Maybe it was the time the both of them had way more shots than they should have and they shared the same bed. Completely platonically, of course, but they had never shared a bed before then. When she woke up the following morning, hungover and mouth dry as a desert, she felt him stir under her. His skin was against hers, the lean muscle of him both relaxed yet firm. His hand on her hip.
Her leg had been tossed over his trim waist, her head comfortably in the crook of his shoulder. She didn’t know what to do. Both of them slept in their underwear regularly and they had seen each before in just that, it wasn’t weird. They were just that comfortable with each other. But this was...different. All she could do was stare at him in quiet horror. Horror that dissipated into a heat-driven appreciation as she looked at him. The v of his slim hips, the defined muscles that contracted with each breath, the perfect stubble that framed his perfect mouth. She wondered at how he felt against her and under her, then wondered about him maybe even on top of--
She had pulled away from the proverbial stovetop that was Orange Cassidy and fled to the bathroom.
Oh no.
Her best friend was hot.
They never talked about it. Ever since then, she tried to keep it casual. Take it easy. Tried to ignore the way her heart raced at the sight of him or how she had to press her thighs tight together when she stood outside the ring, being the supportive best friend that she was. They still shared a room and they kept their separate beds. That worked just fine, just what they were used to. She chalked it up to a brief wave of hormones and that was it. She was totally fine and totally not thirsting after her best friend.
Jokes on her, her brain had different plans.
Not but a day later, the dreams started.
The ones where Orange pulled her in the ring and taught her a different kind of submission. Or showed her how to turn it back around on him. The ones where he caught her pleasuring herself and told her “save some for me” before he took her slick fingers into his mouth like it was the easiest thing. The ones where they fit together so well, she woke up with her toes curled and a silent scream of pleasure in her throat. The ones where he slipped his sunglasses onto her as she rode him, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watched her breasts bounce.
All they were were dreams and when she woke up, she took care of herself in the shower and did her best to shove it to the farthest corner of her brain. It was entirely inappropriate and he was her best friend and he totally didn’t see her that way. She pushed the way that made her heart inexplicably clench and ache to the back of her mind too.
A squeaky hotel bed frame narced on her.
She was in a deep sleep, her mind back in that dreamscape where she opened up for Orange and he murmured to her. Murmured to her how good she felt, how he could feel her squeezing him when he fucked into her just right. How they should have done this ages ago and she moaned in agreement.
Orange was a heavy sleeper. Everyone knew that. But it could take him longer than the average bear to fall asleep. Especially when he listened to the way his best friend thrashed in the opposite bed and the bedframe wouldn’t stop squeaking. Was it a nightmare? She seemed to be having a lot of those lately. Sometimes he heard his name. His dreams were getting more intense too. He never asked about hers and never brought up his. Maybe he should have.
He rolled onto his side to look at her. Her sheets were halfway down her body and sweat made her shirt cling to her torso. He ignored the way he could make out the silhouette of her hard nipples, instead focused on the way she breathed and how her face contorted. Tried to ignore the way he could feel himself getting hard just at the sight of her so breathless.
He didn’t know when that had started. Maybe when she pressed herself right against him that night they got too drunk and mouthed sleepily against his neck that she loved him, that he was her best friend and she was so lucky to have him for a best friend. Pressed against him so tight he could feel all of her. He didn’t look at her like a best friend when the morning light started to bleed into their room. He felt awful for it and when she shot out of the bed in the morning, he thought he might be able to breathe easier about it. It was just a one-off flash of hormones.
Who was he kidding?
“Hey,” he called. She didn’t respond. He shoved the sheets off his body and threw his legs over the side. Maybe they could switch beds or he could talk her out of her nightmare. He stood up with a sigh and crossed the small space between their beds. His hand hovered over her bare shoulder. “Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep.”
“Cass…”
The sound of her heated, desperate voice shot straight to his groin and he bit the inside of his cheek.
“Right here. You’re loud. Are you ok--” He paused when his eyes ran over her body. Traced the path of her arm under her sheets and the movement that disturbed the sheets over her. Hear the sound of slick as she worked herself. Heard the way she begged him please. Oh fuck. “Wait...Are you...What?!”
His hand went to her shoulder, squeezed it, and that snapped her out of her trance. That and his raspy panic. They stared at each other in the dim light of the hotel room, their eyes wide and chests heaving. She slipped her hand out from under the blanket and he nearly groaned at the sound of her panty’s elastic waistband snapping against her skin. The dim light caught the slick on her fingers and they continued to stare at each other.
She wanted to vanish. Maybe call Freddy Krueger to pull her through the mattress and murder her because fuck, how were they going to get past this?
“Cass, I’m so sorry,” she fumbled out, unsure of what to do with her hand or the brink of orgasm she was quickly pulling away from. Her eyes burned in embarrassment and frustration. He knew. He totally fucking knew. “I can get a different room and we can just avoid each oth--’
“I have them too,” he said, far more calm than she was. She blinked at him. “Wet dreams.”
“Cass, this is different. This is weird and gross and god, how can you look at me?”
“About you,” he sat down and the mattress squeaked. His desperate, breathy, frustrated tone froze her. “They’re about you.”
In a moment of panic, she tried to wipe her hand off on her shirt but Orange’s long fingers around her wrist made her pause. He muttered don’t and leaned forward. Didn’t break eye contact with her as his lips hovered over her skin.
“Can I taste you?”
His question burned straight through to her pussy and she clenched her thighs. His words stunned her. All she could do was nod. Slowly, his tongue prodded her slick fingers and wrapped around the digits as he pulled them into his mouth. He took his time cleaning her fingers and when he was finished, he sat back up.
“That was one,” he said, his voice strained. She watched how he palmed himself through his pajama pants and she tried to sit up. Pink stained his cheeks, his neck. Made his lips all the more appetizing. “There’s been...a lot.”
“Do you…” She paused. It was hard to breathe. “Should we, um, talk about them? The dreams.”
“Nah,” he said. Orange offered her his hand and she took it. He pulled her over to his bed, one hand on her ass and the other on her hip. His heavy tone, accentuated by his heavy-lidded eyes and the way his hands slid under her shirt to feel her hot skin, convinced her. Left her worries in a pile of ash. “Wanna show you.”
He took his time pulling her to him. Took his time learning her lips, mapping them out with his own. The bed was quiet when he pushed her thighs apart and tasted her fully. She sighed his name, almost screamed it when his fingers slid inside her and crooked just right. He liked the sound of it. His lips on her felt right. He kissed the inside of her thighs as her muscles twitched. He sat back on his heels and looked at her, glowing and sweat-slicked because of him. It was a different kind of glow than the one she got when he made her laugh, when they talked late at night, when they sat by each other at the bar with the boys and giggled over inside jokes.
When he finally slid inside her, heavy and hot and perfect, they groaned in unison. Her fingers anchored themselves in his hair and her thighs made a home around his hips. Shifted back and forth with him as he pumped in and out of her. He wasn’t known for being talkative but that night, he couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t, wouldn’t, stop praising her. Wouldn’t stop telling her how fucking good she felt, how they should have done this before, how dreams weren’t shit compared to that moment. Her walls fluttered tight around him and he swore.
“Cass, I’m close,” she whined. “Please, please.”
His head fell to her shoulder and his fingers to her aching clit.
“Come on, come on,” Orange gasped out, sweat dripping from his hair and pale chest flushed. “Wanna come with you.”
Her hips bucked against him and her back arched. She squeezed him impossibly tight and he was done for. With another heavy thrust, he came with her and the pulse of him inside her coaxed a filthy moan out of her. He swallowed it with his mouth, their tongues searching for each other in a mess of spit and low moans that was their first kiss. The last shudders of him passed and his forehead fell to her shoulder. Her fingers threaded through his blonde hair and he picked his head up to search her face. Were they just desperate? Where would they go after this? She seemed to read that in his eyes and her post-bliss smile comforted him.
“That was one of mine,” she whispered to him. “But I’ve had a lot more too. I’m...Would you...Want to talk more about them?”
Orange huffed against her and they both moaned quietly when he pulled out of her. He sat back on his heels and brushed his hair from his eyes. His thumb traced her hip bone. He squeezed her soft skin and she relaxed back into the bed.
“Yeah,” he breathed out with a lazy smile. “Sounds cool.”
#orange cassidy imagine#orange cassidy fic#orange cassidy fanfiction#orange cassidy smut#aew imagine#aew smut#aew fic#aew fanfiction#wrestling imagine#wrestling fic
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Scream
Pairing: Jungkook x reader
Synopsis: It’s been a year since your mother was slaughtered, with no leads pointing to any possible suspects. It’s been an up-hill battle for you to accept what happened— especially with no answers or closure— and the citizens of your hometown have been sleeping with one eye open ever since. But now, the mystery killer has decided to make an anniversary visit, and is making it known that they not only have a dire love for infamous horror films... but they also have their targets set on you and all of your closest friends.
Word count: 8k
Headline: Small Town Woodsbroro Is Waking Up Screaming Once Again!
Warnings: dark themes; Gore; Smut; Crackhead humor (only because I promised my bff I’d give her an honorable death scene); Foul language; Jungkook is psychotic; Graphic depictions of him killing your mom/friends; we’re also going to pretend that it’s outrageously easy to get away with murder; dont fact check me on anything you read here; rough sex; mask kink.
Admin: @tatertotthethot
Baley was high as a fucking kite.
So high, that she didn’t care about it being 1am as she blasted the Cha-Cha slide at full volume.
So high, that she was completely disregarding her lactose intolerance whilst making herself a triple layered, sharp cheddar grilled cheese that was bound to have her ass blasting right back off by 3am.
So, outrageously stoned, that she was totally unaware of the masked killer standing just outside the glass doors in her kitchen, watching her every move.. With her beat up, hogtied boyfriend laying out next to him.
“Now it’s time to fawnky! To the right now—“
She crab walked along with the instructions, spatula in hand.
“To the left!”
“Take it back now, y’all.”
Ghostface grimaced beneath his mask, eyes stalking the stoned woman with disdain. She was the epitome of “crackhead energy” and it pissed him off how much she resembles you. It only makes sense, being as you two have been best friends since kindergarten— probably soulmates in a past life— but it is within that fact that Ghostface has grown to absolutely fucking loath her.
She’s too much like you. She keeps up with your humor and probably has more of your heart than he, himself, has earned a place in yet. He knows good and well that if it ever came down to you having to pick between him and her, you’ll pick her.
That simply will not do. That’s exactly why he is about to rid you of that option— or, as he sees it, the dilemma.
He growled and swung at the air, wishing he could just bust in and end her already.
“How could you be in love with that creature?” He hissed at Taehyung, the built-in voice box beneath his mask altering it enough to remain anonymous. The question was quite hypocritical, being as he was in love with a girl that most would consider Baley’s second-half, but only you were an exception to being so.. abnormal.
“Mmmph—“ Taehyung drearily gurgled out from beneath the strip of tape over his mouth, tears breaching his eyes as he watched Baley’s precious, uncoordinated ass do the “Charlie brown”. It looked more like a fucked up gallop.
“What is the sex like, dude?” Ghostface ripped the duck tape off Taehyung’s split lips. “That’s a serious question.”
“Boo bear..” was all Taehyung could muster up, more scared for her than himself.
Ghostface gagged and slapped the tape right back on with a little too much force, having to take a second to regain his composure before pressing the call button on Taehyung’s phone. The Spotify music thankfully cut off as her phone rang out from the counter.
Baley was only upset for a split before she spotted the name on her phone screen, and was quick to answer it with a sickening amount of glee.
“Angel muffin!” She cooed. Gross
“Hi, boo bear..” Ghostface flipped his middle finger up at Taehyung before clutching his Bowie knife back down to his side.
“Oh my God, What was that? You sound like Corpse, mixed with the bear from Five Nights At Freddy’s.”
“The bears name is Freddy, dumbass.”
Baley neck rolled back in offense.
“Are you trying to get pegged or prolapsed? Might wanna remember who the fuck you’re talking to, the next time you call this cellular.” She snapped, hanging the phone up with a viscous pout. She still somehow managed to pick back up on the beat and cha-cha’d real smooth as she took the pot off the eye and turned the stove off, visibly upset.
Ghostface stood there for a moment, processing what she just said, before turning towards Taehyung.
“She claps your cheeks?”
Taehyung glared back at the screaming-ghost mask, bracing himself when a gloved hand reached out to once again rip the ductape off his lips.
“It’s not sus!” He immediately defended. “I have a gspot up there for a reason. I am not ashamed to use it.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that!” The killer snapped out. “why would you let that.. unstable individual insert something into your rectum—“
“You’ve got a whole lotta nerve calling somebody else unstable,” Taehyung deadpanned, and with that, his mouth was once again resealed shut.
He called Baley’s phone again, just as she was about to take a bite of the sandwhich that she’ll, unfortunately, never get to eat.
“What, fucker?” She scorned.
“I can see you.”
“Oh, yeah?” She sarcastically spat. “Then what am I doing?”
She clenched her buttcheeks in and hunched her back out, her body resembling a question mark, before vigorously gyrating her body- mostly just her spine. Jungkook knows from the various tiktoks you’ve shown him that he was witnessing the inverted-twerk.
“Hm? Tell me, fuckboy. What am I doing?”
”Something a fucking cockroach does after I spray Raid on it. How the fuck do you clench your buttcheeks like that?”
Baley halted in mid thrust, surprised but not exactly fearful (yet) as she whizzed around to face the sliding glass doors that led into her back yard. It was pitch black outside, and all she could see was her own reflection starring back at her. She was also too high to care about the fact that she had the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and the strings pulled all the way out, which only exposed the center of her face in a squished circle.
“I use my glutes. You know that. Why haven’t you come in?” She asked, not superstitious but a lil-stitious.
“This isn’t Taehyung.”
“Okay, Isn’t Taehyung. Why haven’t you come in?”
“Because I want you to come out here.” The killer responded, grinning at the visible unease finally creeping into the girls stance.
“Okay, babe— I hate to be a bummer here, but considering that today is the one-year anniversary of Ms. (L/N)’s murder, this isn’t very Cash Money of you. Can you please just come in and.. stop?”
He let out a chuckle, a dark one.
“Boo bear?”
“What, Isn’t Taehyung?”
“Turn on the outside lights.“
Ghostface put the speaker on the phone and sat it on the ground as he crouched over Taehyung, pulling him to sit up straight. He watched as Baley apprehensively padded over to the light switch by the door. He could practically feel her heart beating in-sync with Taehyung’s racing one as he placed the knife to his neck, smiling beneath his disguise.
The lights flickered on, and she screamed, terror finally bringing the seriousness out in the situation.
“HANG UP OR MOVE A MUSCLE AND HE DIES!” The killer roared, knowing she was still too high for her survival instincts to kick in. Any sober, sane individual would’ve probably caught on to the fact that they were gonna die no matter what she did. What was just making it easier for himself, knowing her dumbass was gonna comply.
“W-What do you want me to do?”
See?
“Be a good girl, and come here.”
“Quit trying to seduce me, you sick son of a bitch. My boyfriend’s literally right there!” She croaked out, voice shrill with exasperation.
The killer plunged the knife into Taehyung’s arm, making him jolt to life with a pain-filled howl. Baley began sobbing out, apologizing profusely.
“Your boyfriends going to get gutted like a fish if I have to repeat myself. Drop the phone and come here.” Ghostface seethed, wrenching the knife back out on the last word.
Baley reluctantly— and stupidly— did as told. She let the phone fall from her hand, then jumped out of her skin as the Bluetooth reconnected in the house and started playing WAP. She tried not to sing along despite the situation as she padded over, shaky hands rising to cover her mouth.
“N-Now what?” She asked.
“I just figured your last words should be said face-to-face. Is there anything you two would like to say to each other?” He asked, that being the only generosity he’d be willing to spare as he ripped the tape away from Tae’s mouth, one last time.
Baley dropped to her knees, so much despair in her eyes. So many things she wanted to say. She recollected herself and caught her breath in just enough time to utter final goodbye: “I-I-I said certified freak..”
Tae’s eyes closed as a single tear escaped, nodding his head in understanding. “Seven days a week...”
“GAH!” The killer roared out, wrenching Taehyung’s head back to slice his throat before shoving him away and lunging at Baley.
She landed on her back with him on top, and he wasted no time as he began slashing her apart, in any way he possibly could. He let all the pent up rage and annoyance he felt towards her, out on her body. It was worse than the brutality he inflicted on to your mother this time last year. He’d only stabbed her a total of 19 times— one for every year she failed you as a mother. With Baley, he didn’t stop tearing into her until WAP ended. And damn, did it feel good. He finally felt like he’d purged his soul clean.
This may all seem reckless, but Jungkook was actually just lucky. In order to mask his true motive behind all this, he had to find another one to cover it with. It was simply convenient that Baley’s father is the town mayor, and after a little digging, he made the grand discovery that he was also having a secret affair with (Y/N)’s mother. In fact, the mayor had several mistresses throughout the town.
Jungk—er, Ghostface.. chopped off one of Baley’s fingers and slid the glass door shut, writing the same words on it that he wrote on your mother’s bathroom mirror.
CHEATING PIG!!
Yes. When he did this last year, the police had to dissect through your mother’s long line of past sexual partners, and had to track down the father you never met for an interview. No leads came about, because it was all time wasted, anyways. Now, with this new addition, the mayor will not only have to set the scandals ablaze again by having to publicly confess his infidelity to the town and police, but they’ll have to lead on another pointless investigation for every woman he’s cheated with— over a dozen of them. They’ll have to also charge him with withholding crucial information from the investigation as well, but what’s so fucking comical about it all is that.. NONE of it has anything to do with any of this. It’ll just be another cold case with no leads.
And maybe, just MAYBE you’ll be smart enough to ditch this place and come with him. That’s all he wanted. You have nothing left and nothing to come back to now, and as long as you give in to him and leave, there won’t have to be anymore lives taken. You could start a new life and never experience another hell like the one he’s creating here. If only you’d say yes.
“May you both continue to clap each other’s cheeks in the deepest depths of hell,” he told the mauled corpses as he walked off, so happy to have Baley gone that he almost wanted to skip to his car.
Now, he will go home and clap your cheeks to complete the cycle.
—
“Damnit, bitch, pick up,” you huffed in frustration as Baley’s FaceTime continued to roll over, telling you that she’s unavailable. You thought you could power through today with your newly adapted ability to suppress shit, but it was hard when you’re left alone to reminisce. You just couldn’t shake the fact that the date on today’s calendar marked the same day that your heart, soul, and peace of mind was so horribly torn apart.
It didn’t help that you also missed your mother terribly. She wasn’t always the best, but she still loved you, and you loved her. Oh, God. Mom—
No. No. Don’t think about her.
You tried calling Baley one more time and couldn’t fight off the tremble in your hands, nor the tears at your water ducts as it rung through till the end. Damnit.
You couldn’t be angry. She doesn’t owe you the company— especially since you two have already been FaceTiming all day. But she was good at distractions, always able to drag you out of your shell of deprecation with her chaotic sense of humor. She is one of the only two people you have in your life that are capable of doing such, but you knew you’d get scolded if you blew up the others phone. Jungkook hates being hounded and rushed, having already told you that he’ll be there any minute. But he’s taking way too fucking long it seems, and you just hate sitting here, waiting.
You can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. The feeling first crept up on you this time last year and never left. You felt so venerable to the cruel world when you’re alone, especially since the maniac is still out there.
You still resent the police department for practically giving up on your mother’s case after 9 months. “Cheating pig” was the only lead they got and yet, it pointed them no where. She wasn’t in a relationship. She didn’t even like relationships. And still, they deemed it a randomized attack— no leads, no motives. Nothing. Just a local woman stabbed in the chest 19 times while taking a shower. Like some Psycho remake. No signs of forced entry. No evidence of sexual assault. Just a very passionate, yet unexplainable massacre with a useless message left behind.
It doesn’t make sense. And even though you wish to never have the attacker come back, you can feel it in your bones that they will wish to clarify it one day.
“Fuck it.” You breathed out, heart slamming against your chest and paranoia gnawing at your insides as you quickly scrolled to Jungkook contact. But then, just as your thumb twitched to press the call button, your door bell rung and you sprung up to your feet, making a mad dash to the door. You checked the peep hole first, just knowing it was gonna be him, but was disappointed when it wasn’t. That still didn’t keep a rush of relief from washing over you when you did see who it really was, though. You forced a welcoming smile on to your face as you unlocked all 7 bolts from the door, and opened it to greet Namjoon and Hobi with a hug.
They were cops, currently in their uniforms, also old friends from highschool. They’ve been looking out for you ever since last year, always making sure you knew you were safe beneath their watch. They use to take turns guarding your house until they were told to stop, but you were extremely happy to see them both here at the same time tonight.
“Everything okay?” Hobi asked, having noticed the shake in your limbs during the brief embrace. He leaned back and observed the tension in your eyes, even though you were hoping to hide it.
“Yes, just— today,” was all you could say, and didn’t have to clarify for them to understand.
“That’s why we’re here. We got permission to guard your house tonight,” Namjoon explained, eyes drifting over your shoulder and into your house. “Are you alone?”
“Yes, but Jungkook should be here any minute now. He had to go to South Korea for a week for his fathers birthday and just flew back in tonight, but apparently there’s been some huge wreck on the main highway and everyone has been stuck.”
That bit of information was actually true. However, Jungkook was lucky enough to have just miss it.. because he’s the one that actually caused it. It was honestly dumb-luck as to how he did it, but kind of amazing when given details.
He was in the express lane, him and the car behind him hitting 80mph. He recognized the car as the one that was parked beside his back at the airport, because he had stopped and took a moment to judge the driver for how worn down and raggedy the tires were. One bad pot hole or nail in the road would strip that sucker straight from the rim.
And that’s exactly what inspired him as he recognized the car, an idea sparking that could soon serve as an alibi in the future. He already had a hand out the window, smoking a cigarette. He still has those iron steak-nails he used at his construction sight. They’re 5 inches in length, subtle enough to casually drop out of a car window along with the cigarette. If they hit just right...
He gave it a try, honestly thinking it wasn’t going to work.
But holy fucking hell, did it. Not even a second after he dropped it, did the car suddenly swerve out as it’s tires screeched and sparks flew. Rubber scattered out amongst the road as the car continued to spin out, getting struck by a the car in all 6 lanes of traffic, ultimately causing a huge pile up in just under 10 seconds. It was the most destruction he’s ever witnessed and it happened so fucking fast he almost ran himself off the road just watching from the rear view mirror.
“NO FUCKING WAY!” Jungkook had squawked out as his head rapidly whipped back and forth to witness the massive mess he just created behind him. He was smiling like the maniac he is, undoubtably impressed with himself. He did it so lazily, too. But it only pumped him up even more for what he needed to do- the whole reason he even thought to do that. He only wanted something major enough to buy himself maybe an hour’s worth of time, so that when/if he gets interrogated in the future, they can check the traffic reports for a registered wreck to fit his alibi. But considering that he just shut the whole damn highway down, it’ll not only register but definitely make tonight’s news.
“Ah, yeah. We heard about that. 36 cars piled up. Can’t believe nobody was killed.” Namjoon said.
“How the fuck did that even happen?” You wondered, baffled.
“Some dickhead was going 80 an hour on an old tire and it wiped out after hitting a nail on the road. Thankfully, he only has a broken nose and whip flash, but with all the cars that got totaled— I don’t even want to know how much the cost of damage would be. But it caused 5 miles worth of traffic back-up.”
“Mm..” you grimaced, shaking your head. “Well.. would you guys like some dinner? Maybe some Coffee?”
“Ah, thanks, but there’s no need. We’ve got all the energy drinks and McDonald’s we need. You just chill out for the night, we’re right out here if you need anything,” Hobi assured, making you genuinely smile for the first time in the past two days.
But that was just before a familiar car pulled up that had your mood skyrocketing.
“FINALLY!” You broke out, sprinting down the steps and over the driver side of it right as the man of the hour stepped out. He welcomed you with open arms and easily lifted your feet up of the ground.
He looked just as good as he smelt. You’ve missed him more than words could describe in this past week— and Jungkook knew it. Of course, he had offered to take you with him so that you could finally meet his parents. But as predicted, you declined, saying that it’d be too much to meet his mother when the anniversary of your own’s death was approaching.
You continued to squeeze your arms around his neck for the next several seconds, and it wasn’t until he heard you sniffling and felt your shoulders shake that he realized you were crying. He couldn’t help but like that type of reaction. He was hoping the distance would torment you, maybe teach your ass a lesson.
“Don’t cry,” he rumbled in your ear as he pressed you hard against his lower half, making sure to up the intimacy of the embrace as he felt the eyes of the onlookers in the yard.
He waited for a second before peering over at the officers, who were awkwardly standing beside their cars. He gave a wave, pretending as if he were sheepish about them having to witness this.
“How’s it goin, guys?”
“Fine, fine,” Hobi responded. “Don’t mind us. We’re just here to watch out for you guys.”
“I appreciate that. Really.” He said in his best acting voice, even flashing a dimpled grin that gave off nothing but innocence as the two got into a patrol car, nodding to him in welcome. It actually makes things more convenient for him. They’ll be able to backup his whereabouts later on.
He pondered this while returning his attention to you, coaxing you out of your emotional outburst.
“I’m sorry. It’s just been so hard not having you here. Fuck, I’m so glad you’re back.” You breathed in and sighed out, and he could tell by the end of the last sentence that you were more-so talking to yourself, clinging to him one last time just to greedily soak in the physical presence of his body. He felt something ache in his heart, as well as his jeans.
“Well, I’m here now. Maybe next time, you’ll just go with me,” he lightly chided, hand coming up to pet your head as he kissed the top of it.
“Yeah.. I started regretting it after the first hour you left.” You whispered out, meeting his lips. You kissed each other a couple times, probably more than necessary. But it calmed you down and made you feel steady again. “Come on, I made you something to eat.”
He got his duffel bag out from the back seat and slung it over his shoulder before taking your hand, following you inside. It boosted his ego knowing that the two men watching from the tinted windows of the car were secretly jealous of him. They had a thing for you. Almost every straight guy in highschool did. That’s why he never minded what you wore, and was more than happy to let you flaunt yourself to their eyes. He liked teasing others, knowing they’ll never have such a prize as you.
Once inside, you were quick to relock your bolts. You were very strict about that now, taking extra precautions to prevent a potential attack. It kind of humored him knowing that it was him, a resident inside this very home itself, that those locks were meant to keep out. You’re literally locking yourself in with the killer.
“Damn, you cleaned the hell out of this place.” He ogled, not only taking in the immaculacy but smelling the pinesol and bleach amongst the floors and counter tops. All the laundry was folded, not a speck of dust in sight. You even cleaned the grout amongst the kitchen flooring, it seemed. Nothing looked out of place.
“I had to do something to keep from wigging out,” you shrugged, walking over to start the microwave for him to heat up his dinner plate. He left his duffel bag by the door and grabbed himself a beer before sitting at the table, noticing it’s prestigious shine.
“Did you polish it?”
“Yeah...” you said as you scratched the back of your neck, somehow embarrassed.
“It’s looks amazing in here, kitten. Really. I know you did it to cope but still, you did a damn good job.” He praised, feeling a little bad. He knows this took a lot of work, and it sucks that you opted to do all this just to keep the anxiety of his absence away.
“Thank you,” you sighed, taking his plate out and sitting in down in front him, then handing him some utensils.
“Where’s your plate?”
“I already ate, silly. I’ll munch with you, though.” You began making yourself a salad as he began to eat, complimenting you on how good it was. He doesn’t know that you’ve been awake for two days straight, and that you’re still battling off an anxiety attack. You were expecting it to vanish now that he’s here, but the sleep deprivation was getting to you.
So, you decided to reminisce on better memories. The old days; back when you first met him.
It was senior year of highschool, and he was the new transfer student from South Korea. He was the punk-emo guy that stood out amongst the crowd. All black clothing, more band shirts than anything. He had that messy mop-hair going on, and approximately 6 piercings on each ear, along with a studded labret to boot.
From day one, he was the most attractive guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. Much to his exterior trope, he was anti-social and didn’t seem friendly at all. The only time you personally heard him speak for the first few months of school was when he’d answer the teacher for roll call.
You only had one class together, chemistry. He’d always sit at the back of the classroom, and you’d remember the giddiness you’d feel just before walking into class and making eye contact with him, even for just a split second. You heart always skipped a beat and would threaten to seize up whenever Baley would lean over and tell you that he was looking at you again. Of course, that would be all the interaction you could get, being as you refused to engage any further. But life seemed to play out like a Wattpad fic back then.
Around the middle of first semester, your teacher was fed up with all the chatter amongst friends, so she decided to assign seats. Jungkook’s was still at his designated one, but you had to sit directly in front of him so that Taehyung could sit closer up, next to Baley. It’s also thanks to that class that the two of them fell for each other. It was also the same day she issued a partner-assignment that had to be done with the peer behind you.
You remembered having to play it cool, turning your desk and chair around to face him head-on for the first time ever. You anticipated that he’d still be sporting that ice-cold, disinterested glare, but he actually seemed pleased. He wasn’t actually smiling but he had a friendly glint in his eyes, like he welcomed you.
“Hello,” he started off, naturally confident in himself.
“Howdy,” you responded, immediately hating yourself. You’ve never uttered such a word in your life and you don’t know why the fuck you decided that that was the perfect moment to try it out.
He only snorted back at you, though, amusement swirling in his colorless eyes. You were intimidated by that as well. They were jett black. No distinction between his pupils and his irises. Just solid, black orbs boring into you.
You then continued to battle with basic communication.
“So, uhm.. wh—..”
English, motherfucker! Do you speak it?!
“What parts do you wanna do?” You rushed out.
“I’ll get the information together and answer the questions, as long as you create the PowerPoint and present it to the class,” he said without missing a beat, as if he’d already decided on that for the both of you.
“What criteria, though?” You asked, still waiting on that part.
“All of it...” He reiterated in a “duh” tone.
“That’s not fair to you, though...” you continued.
He arched an impressively sharp brow. “How?”
“You’re literally doing all the hard work.”
He shrugged, and you tried not to drool when you saw all his rings and the veins on his hands and fingers as he took his phone out. “I learned this shit back when I was freshman in South Korea. We’re way ahead of y’all there.”
“Oh.. well.. I can at least do the images and label them.”
Stop starring at his fingers.
“Mm,” he hummed with a lack of conviction, still looking at his phone. “No offense, but no.”
“Uhm.. okay..” you frowned in dejection, not sure how to respond to that.
“I said no offense,” he grinned up at you apologetically. “I just know you’re bad with visualizations.”
“What? I have an A in here. How do you even know that?”
“The teacher got onto you for messing up the labels on the last test. You got all the functions right but failed to match them to their description.” He said without any hesitation, and you were just as stunned as you were embarrassed. But he didn’t seem to be insulting you, and even reassured you of it. “Again, no offense. I just think it’s best for the both of us if I do it.”
“Okay. Cool,” You agreed, deciding to let him have it. Your face still burned, though.
“You still have an important role, don’t worry. Presentation is worth 40%, so you’re still gonna have to put in work and present it accordingly.”
“I can do that.” You nodded, suddenly feeling like you were sitting before a full grown man rather than a teenage boy. You couldn’t help but ask: “How old are you?”
“19,” he mused, as if he knew what you were thinking. He didn’t even ask you why you asked, and instead returned his attention back to his phone screen. “You?”
“18,” you muttered, your eyes reconnecting to his hands like magnets.
You really wanted to compliment them but decided against it, being as you were no longer as confident with this situation. Sure, he deserves to know how beautiful his hands are but you’re weren’t going to be the one to say it. You were expecting a cheeky personality at most, just because it fits the mischievous bad boy bullshit you read about in teen fiction, but you were instead met with a blunt and mature persona that made you intimidated in a way that you’ve never experienced before. He almost seemed.. authoritative to you.
“I see you like my rings.” He smirked, eyes not even looking back up at you. You had spaced out whilst tracing the path of his veins again, and immediately cut your eyes down to your own phone, feigning innocence.
“Whatchu mean?”
“Everyone like my hands, for some reason. I see you’re no different.”
“I ain’t even looking at your hands. Maybe you’re just too conceded,” you shot back, leg nervously pouncing as he lifted his head up to peer at you.
“Really?” He sarcastically challenged, making your insides stir. He sat up straight and pulled his hands back under his desk. “So the gold rings didn’t even catch your eye?”
“Your rings are silver.” You said without even thinking, then straight up face-palmed when you caught yourself.
“Thought so.” He openly grinned, and the little notion caused butterflies to erupt in your tummy. He pulled his phone back out and still wore that playful grin of his as you bashfully held his gaze. “Now, if you think you can manage to tell the truth, what’s your phone number?”
It’s amazing looking back at those memories, because you’re now starting to think that maybe Jungkook just knew back then that you two were going to hit it off. He’s always seemed so sure of himself when it came to you, always knew what the next move was gonna be and never once sent mixed signals or struggled to express how he felt towards you. He’s the most straightforward person you know, so much that it’s almost unnatural at times. If he was ever bluffing about anything outside of being playful, you’ve never been able to call it.
But damn, are you madly in love with him. You guess his ability to always remain focused and blunt is perfect for a person like you. He keeps you moving... well, for the most part. He wants you to move back to South Korea with him, and although you know you’ll eventually give in, you’ve been trying to hold off on it for as long as you can.
It won’t be as easy for you as it was for him. Jungkook was already fluent in English when he came here, thanks to his mother’s bilingualism. He hardly even had an accent from how well adjusted he was to your language. You, however, don’t know a bit of Korean. For you to go there, it would impair you in almost every single way. You won’t be able to go anywhere without him. You won’t be able to read directions or road signs. You won’t be able to go out and eat or order off the menu if there isn’t any pictures. You won’t be able to work. You’ll have to adapt to a whole new culture and way of communication, just to properly function outside of your home without him at your side.
Which, brings along another point, you’ll be without any friends. You don’t want to live in a world where you can’t go out with Taehyung and Baley whenever you wanted. You’ll be lonely as hell and home sick, he’ll be your only source of humanly contact until you learn.
You’ve told yourself that if the two of you remain stable for one more year, then you’ll go. You are ready for a change, but if you could just get one more year of preparation, you’ll be ready to go. You’ll take that leap of faith with him.
“What is it, kitten?” He finally asked, the prolonged silence getting to him.
“Nothing,” you lied, but didn’t want to divulge. “How was your trip?”
“Nice, but I was bummed out the whole time.” He shot you a look that made you pout in apology, but continued. “I talked all about you to them, showed them pictures. Almost fucked up and showed my cousin your vagina.”
You choked on your salad, which made him laugh. “I told you to put those in your hidden folder.”
“There’s so many, I just haven’t taken the time to pick them all out. It’s okay though, they only saw your face. They all think very beautiful— especially my mom.”
Your smile grew at that, “Yeah?”
“Yeah. So does my grandmother and my aunts. They were passing my phone around more than the dishes.” He snorted to himself, “They were even more surprised to see how much I smiled in our selfies. Which... I should warn you, when you do finally see my parents house, don’t be surprised when you spot our photo booth pictures framed in the hall. My mom went feral when she saw how much of a simp I was being in those.”
“She printed those out?!” You almost cried.
“Yes, she did. She printed each one individually and framed them side-by-side.”
“Aw, Kookie. I should’ve just went. I’m so sorry.” You pouted, guilt causing your heart to sink.
“You weren’t ready, angel. They understood,” He assured you, leaning forward to take your hand in his. You suddenly wanted to cry again.
“But I promise to go next time. Or whenever you wanna take me. I swear, I’ll go.” You said in determination, and was a little thrown off by his reaction.
His face went blank for a moment c like his brain needed a second to buffer.
“You will?” He inquired, that being the first time you’ve actually agreed or expressed any type of want. “Why now?”
“Because it sounds like they really want to meet me, too? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. That’s great. I just figured you wouldn’t be moved by that. You really wanna go now?”
“Yeah. Your family sounds so nice.”
“Was that what kept you from coming?” He interrogated, and it’s clear that he genuinely had no faith in you ever entertaining the idea.. which was a little disheartening. You’ve never said you’d never want to go, you’ve always kept a window open for later. You not sure why he’s so surprised.
“No, not necessarily. I wasn’t ready to meet them but if they’re that excited to meet me, then.. of course it’ll make me want to meet them, too. And get a little taste of South Korea.”
“Alright, I’ll plan a trip,” he had to say with forced enthusiasm, which you bought as you kissed his lips. Inwardly, though, he was screaming. If all it fucking took was a little conviction by saying his family was nice, just to make you consider.. them maybe he wouldn’t have had to do what he just did.
Whatever. Extra insurance. He had to tell himself, and decided to retrain his thoughts back on you as he remembered something.
“I have a special surprise for you.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” he stood up and walked over to his duffel, fishing around before pulling something out. “Close your eyes.”
You did as told, and waited about 10 seconds.
“Open.”
You almost shit yourself upon hearing the voice, then came closer to shitting yourself when you took in the familiar Ghostface mask that you seen in the movie Scream.
“WHUZZZUUHHH!” He drawled out while doing the cowabunga fingers, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Where the hell did you get that?”
“Halloween store. I got it in Korea.”
That was a lie. He’s had two of these masks for over two years, both of which he got from Party City here in America. He bought one to kill your mother in— the same one he just wore to kill your friends in— and the other one was meant for what he wanted to do now. He wanted to fuck you with it on. He’s not sure why, but why not? You might discover you have a mask kink.
“What the fuck is up with the voice?”
“Sexy, ain’t it?” He animatronically purred out, and it wasn’t until he fully stepped forward and began undoing his belt that you realized he was already shirtless.
Your eyes grew wide as you landed back in your chair, unable to decipher if this was a joke or not. You soon realized it wasn’t as he was now popping his button loose and unzipping his pants— his hardening dick print becoming more prominent.
“You’re not fucking me with that mask on,” you blurted out, sticking your foot out to stop him from advancing any closer.
“I’m fucking you with this mask on,” he argued, grabbing your ankle. “Consider it pay back for the time you refused to give me head unless I let you wear your Burger King crown.”
“No, Darth Vader.” You tried pulling your leg back but soon wound up almost getting drug out of your chair and onto the floor. Your unease soon turned into giggles and screams as wound up besting your play fight, his mask only coming off long enough to go down on you at the kitchen table.
And that’s what set the night off. You went from getting your pussy eaten at the dinner table to getting your throat wrecked on the living room couch. Then you were forced to watch yourself get rammed up against your body mirror in the bedroom, and now you’re bent up like a pretzel amongst your bed.
“Ah— GAH!” You grunted in struggle, finding it hard to cuss like you wanted being as a hand was firmly constricting your air supply. You watched the masked man above you as he heatedly fucked into you, his chain dangling above your face. Your ankles helplessly swayed around his shoulders with each brutal slap of his pelvis. Your face still stung from the actual slaps of his palms, causing you to flinch any time his hands moved. You noticed done time throughout all this that he was hellbent on making you look at that damn mask. You weren’t complaining, though. Just more-so concerned about how hot it must be under there.
But then he slowed down for a moment, trying not to cum again as he lowered his face to yours, and finally decided it was time it come off, being as you were ready for a kiss.
“T-Take that damn mask off—“
Wrong move.
He growled and ripped your hand away as you tried removing it yourself, and you were stunned by how much aggressive he became— more aggressive than he was already being, as if truly lashing out. He man-handled you, flipping you over and plunging back into you with way too much force. You yelped at the intrusion but could do nothing else as he pinned your hands behind your back, picking his speed right back up. He kept your hands locked in place with a single one of his own before clapping the other around your mouth, darkly chuckling at the fright on your face.
“I meant it when I said it’s staying on,” he rasped, pushing into you so deep that veins protruded from your neck in strain.
He couldn’t explain it— or maybe he could. But he felt extremely powerful when he wore this mask. It took him all of two rounds to finally admit to himself that it turned him on, knowing you were getting off to the very same face that your loved ones last looked at in sheer terror. He didn’t realize up until then that he somehow considered Ghostface as a different alternative to himself, one he was growing to like a little too much. It even made his dick more sensitive to the feel of you, making you seem tighter. And warmer. And sluttier.
He’s sure he began speaking Latin somewhere in the midst, but it wasn’t until he saw tears surfacing in your eyes that it dawned on him that his hand had somehow traveled up to cover your nose, as well as your mouth. A moment of panic shot through him when he dropped it and allowed you to breathe, thinking you were gonna make him stop. But much to his pleasant surprise, you only coughed out and mewled, head collapsing on the pillow as you pushed against him, a silent demand keep going. So he did. He made sure to keep the punishing pace up and running. Your body violently jolted with each slam, ass bone aching at the brutal impact. Each thrust was felt like a punch to your cervix and someway or another, you were okay with it.
Little did he know, it was actually because you didn’t want any type of deja vu happening. He fucked you in all the ways you liked the night before you found out that your mother was slaughtered inside your childhood home. You didn’t want tonight to be anything like it. So you let him hurt you.
If only you knew history was going to repeat itself, no matter what the two of you did.
It didn’t take but a few more strokes before he lost his ability to hold off, and emptied himself inside for the third time since he’s arrived back.
Once he did that, the blinds were illuminated in a dim grey, hinting at a sunrise. After a quick shower and clean up, the two of laid there, the mask finally gone.
“What are you thinking, baby?” Jungkook wondered, starring up at the ceiling. You haven’t said much of anything since that last bit. “Did I hurt you? Scare you?”
“No. I could take it.” You said, and it sounded genuine. But he still wanted to know what was on your mind. “I just don’t know what the hell I would do if I didn’t have you. You’re the only person I know that’s never even accidentally done wrong by me. You’ve been nothing but good.”
A void clouded his mind, emotional absence taking place of everything else. It’s a defense mechanism that he’s certain only comes up to block out any sense of guilt or remorse. He kept his gaze up at the ceiling, even as he felt you crane your neck back to look up at him.
“I love you, Kookie. Thank you for being here.”
“I love you too, baby,” he said numbly, those words being true... but his next words were not. “I could never imagine myself doing anything to hurt you.”
Being as he wasn’t planning on looking down, you crawled up for a moment just to kiss him, unbothered by the distant stare in his gaze. You then laid back down and got comfortable, readying yourself for a good days sleep.
“I think it’s finally time I start seeking happiness again, instead of contentment.”
That’s when it hit him. You didn’t notice how his heart cleaned beneath your head, nor was there any way you could feel the tension in his gut. He can’t say he feels full remorseful for what he did, because that would require him sympathizing for the innocent lives he’s taken away, with no rational reason. He simply didn’t feel anything for them. He was only concerned your pain, especially knowing it was unnecessary now. His trip to Korea was enough to motivate you to move on and consider a change of scenery. You didn’t need any fear to drive you out, you just needed time. God only knows how far of a set back this will be now. The fact that you’re laying here, currently thinking that life will only go up from here, when he knows damn good and well it’ll be in shambles again before the day ends..
He really needs to work on his impulses. Maybe homocide shouldn’t always be the first option he leans towards. It was just more fun that way.
But moments like this weren’t fun at all. He remembers how grueling it was last year, waking up with you at the sound of the doorbell going off. He remembers the grim look on the sheriffs face as he told them that they found your mother, dead. It was his arms that had to pick you up off the floor as you crumbled down and screamed, his ears that rung as he held you, not knowing how to console you. For the last year, it’s been his shoulder you’ve cried on, his company keeping you sane, his reassurance telling you that everything was going to be okay.... When it was his hands that caused every single bit of grieve all along.. and was about to cause even more.
So, he did the only thing he could do in that moment. He held you and mentally apologized, hoping that there was some way to telepathically tell you that you mean more to him than life itself, and that’s he’s so sorry for letting it drive him crazy at times. He’s still clinging to the original intention that you’ll say fuck it and flee with him, but he regrets going about it so recklessly.
You were fast asleep now, snoring even. He only hoped the discovery of the bodies would hold off long enough for you to get some much needed sleep. But it seems the universe was done working in his favor.
Those same, familiar knocks sounded off at the door, and he immediately ordered you to stay put as it woke you up.
“Probably just them checking up. Go back to sleep.” He whispered, assertively pushing your head back down and pulling on some sweats before going to the door.
It was the sheriff, same look on his face as last year.
“Sir?” Jungkook frowned, posing cluelessly.
The sheriff looked ghostly pale, like he was nauseated and on the verge of tears. Jungkook knew why but he had to act like it was a throw off.
“Sir..?” He repeated.
“Y’all’s friends.. Baley and Taehyung were found this morning.”
He had to stall and blink, as if he wasn’t catching on to the implications. The sheriff reluctantly continued.
“Baley was found, dead on arrival. Looks like the killer has returned.”
“Wh-What?” Jungkook stuttered, acting like he was bewildered. The sheriff’s next words, however, would spark a more genuine reaction.
“And Taehyung was found unconscious, but still alive.”
Jungkook’s veins ran colder than ever before, all mimicked emotions becoming sincere in that moment.
“Someone attempted to cut his throat, but aimed too high and cut his under jaw instead.”
Jungkook could only stare at the sheriff, probably just as pale in the face now.
“He’s in critical condition. Doctors don’t know if he’ll make it just yet, but there’s a fighting chance that he might.”
#yandere society#bts#jeon jungkook#yandere bts#yandere jungkook#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#bts halloween#bts crack#jungkook smut#bts smut
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Dude, just get out! (we both live here dumbass!) (sterek fic, smut, college au)
Stiles was initially excited to go to college. The freedom aspect of it in particular is what Stiles was the most excited about. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his dad, of course, he does. He didn’t mind living with him, he liked seeing him on a daily basis. He’s all Stiles has. Well, Stiles has Scott, but Scott is attending university in Arizona of all places. Meanwhile, Stiles is going to NYU, so, there’s not a lot of opportunities to see Scott or his father in person.
Not to fret though! Stiles was ready like Freddy to meet new people and, hopefully, make new friends along the way. That’s what college is all about. Supposedly, Stiles wouldn’t know but if all the movies are to be believed then that’s what college is all about.
He and his dad spent days driving up to NYU and then spent hours moving Stiles’ belongings into his off-campus apartment and unpacking. Stiles got a full-ride —thank god— so there’s extra money for him to be able to live in an actual, nice apartment instead of the dorms. His roommate was nowhere to be seen at the time, but that was fine with Stiles. He’d have plenty of opportunities to get to know him. Stiles’ dad left to stay in a hotel for the night because there was no way he was starting the trek back to Beacon Hills this late in the day. So, Stiles was left to his own devices in his new apartment.
Well, he was for about twenty minutes, then his roommate came back and...he’s kind of a dick.
He has a resting bitch face and he hardly likes to talk. Stiles doesn’t know if it’s because the guy doesn’t like him or if he’s just the quiet type. He’s starting to think that the guy doesn’t like him because every time Stiles starts talking he looks annoyed. The dick’s name is Derek and coincidentally, he also goes to NYU. He did tell Stiles his major, but wouldn’t tell Stiles what his favorite color was, which is just plain rude.
Anyway, Stiles isn’t going to let this Debbie downer ruin his college experience, no way!
Stiles decides the best thing to do is to just ignore him. Which is hard to do because the guy takes up so much space, like, he’s actually huge. And he always seems to be in the apartment when Stiles comes back from classes. Which is weird because, dude, don’t you have classes to go to? Nonetheless, he’s always there which means Stiles has to see him all the time and Derek can continue being an asswipe for no reason.
For example, Stiles sometimes forgets to wash the dishes —sue him!— and Derek will chew him out for it. Stiles didn’t know Derek was such a neat freak, but now that he knows he’ll leave more things laying around because Stiles can also be a dick when he wants to be. Maybe Derek should learn to be more personable, then Stiles wouldn’t have to go out of his character by doing such petty things. They’ve only been living together for about a week and a half and there’s already a turf battle going on. Stiles isn’t sure who’s going to win this battle, however, the sight of Derek tripping over one of Stiles’ shoes and the subsequent curse that flies out of his mouth makes Stiles not even care in the end.
--------------
After about a month, it's way more than just a battle. The turf battle has evolved into a war and now, no one is safe.
Derek continues being yucky and Stiles continues to do things to intentionally annoy him, except, now Derek is doing things to annoy Stiles. Like, eating all of Stiles’ Pop-Tarts or, and this is a cruel one, flushing the toilet while Stiles is in the shower. Unfortunately for Stiles, Derek buys gross ass healthy food for himself, and Stiles couldn’t choke down that food to save his life. So, what can one do to even the playing field?
Derek is sitting on the couch in the living room, watching some show about underwater caves. Stiles normally wouldn’t stick around because, despite what Derek might think, Stiles really doesn’t enjoy being talked down to by an abnormally grumpy man. This time though, Stiles sits down beside him. He can see Derek watching him from the corner of his eye, probably waiting to see what Stiles is going to do. Stiles likes to instill fear in Derek. Normally he acts like Stiles is nothing more than a bug he wants to squish under his overly expensive boot, but now? He’s worried. He should be. Stiles is going to pull out his ultimate weapon.
“So, whatcha watchin’?” Stiles asks, plastering a smile onto his face.
Derek gives him a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know?”
Stiles shrugs, smile still present. “I’m curious. This show seems interesting.”
Derek gives him an incredulous eyebrow raise, which is super insulting. Derek thinks all Stiles watches is Harry Potter, Star Wars, and superhero movies. Which is just wrong. But that’s okay. Stiles thinks all Derek watches are documentaries about how to be a functioning human in society, which, newsflash Derek, still needs working on.
A few minutes go by before Stiles decides to speak again. “So, you haven’t told me about your family.”
“That’s intentional.”
Stiles laughs. Derek thinks he can scare Stiles into leaving him alone. Unfortunately for Derek, Stiles has zero self-preservation skills.
“Come on Derek. We’re roommates. Don’t you want us to get along?”
Derek didn’t dignify that with a response —rude!— so Stiles speaks again.
“My dad is the sheriff of my hometown. Been that way for as long as I can remember. My best friend, his name is Scott, wants to be a vet. He goes to The University of Arizona. After that he’s not sure where he’ll go to get his DVM but he’s open to anything.”
Derek turns the volume up on the tv and Stiles bites his lip to stifle his laughter.
Ah, Derek. That won’t help.
“At first I was kinda skeptical about Scott becoming a vet. I mean, he’s a puppy himself, and I love him to death, but sometimes he’s ditzy. He’s a ditzy brunette. But after working at Deaton’s, Deaton is the town vet, for years he’s proved me wrong,” Stiles risks a glance at Derek and he’s scowling so hard Stiles is kind of afraid it’ll get stuck that way forever. “He and his girlfriend, Allison, are kind of having issues with long-distance but they’re high school sweethearts so I’m confident that they’ll work through it. They’re so cute together that it’s actually kinda nauseating. Like, sometimes their sappiness makes me sick to my stomach. I wonder when they’ll get ma-”
Derek abruptly stands up and walks out the room, slamming and locking his bedroom door, as if Stiles is the boogeyman who he’s trying to keep out.
Stiles snickers and grabs the remote to change the channel. Derek gets annoyed when Stiles talks, well, he shouldn’t have started this war then (it doesn’t matter that technically Stiles started it). Stiles has weaponized his ability to talk people’s ears off. So, Derek better watch out.
Hopefully, Derek won’t murder Stiles in his sleep.
--------------
Okay, so, Stiles thinks maybe this whole turf war thing is getting out of hand.
It’s been a total of 3 and a half months since they’ve been living together and Derek and Stiles are on edge around each other 24/7. Stiles has to shower around eleven o’clock at night so that Derek won’t burn him alive by flushing the toilet. Derek doesn’t have access to Stiles’ snacks anymore because Stiles hid them in the back of his closet. Derek stays in his room all day just so that Stiles won't have any opportunities to talk to him. They’re at an impasse, but Stiles has a feeling that the worst has yet to come.
A really bad feeling.
Stiles comes back from a particularly grueling day of classes to see Derek sitting on the couch...and he’s smirking.
That doesn’t bode well for Stiles.
“Hello, Stiles.”
“Uh, hey dude. Why do you look like a supervillain?”
“‘Cause I have a surprise for you.”
Yeah, that definitely didn’t sound good.
“Actually, I am a-okay. I really don’t need the surprise. I appreciate it though,” Stiles tries to make his way towards his room but Derek keeps talking.
“I normally don’t snoop through people’s things, it’s really not in my character, but after you left to go out last night, I heard some weird noises coming from your room. I was trying to ignore it at first, but after a while I went to see what it was. I was going to mention it this morning but you woke up before I did and by the time I had woken up you were already in class.”
Stiles had stopped in his tracks but he still hasn’t turned around to face Derek, because if Derek is going where Stiles thinks he’s going, Stiles is going to need to be able to book it into his bedroom as soon as possible.
Derek didn’t seem too perturbed by Stiles’ silence since he continues with his story. “Imagine my surprise when I found out that it was your laptop making that noise. Now, I wasn’t surprised by the fact that porn was playing, but what I was surprised at-”
Oh god.
“-was that the video you were watching was titled ‘bear fucks twink with huge cock’. And now I can’t help but question your hatred towards me.”
Stiles’ face is burning. He’s never been so embarrassed in his life, which is really a great feat because Stiles doesn’t get embarrassed by much. It’s not that Stiles didn’t notice Derek was hot, like, come on now, Derek is gorgeous. He’s not that much taller than Stiles but the size of his biceps? They’re easily the size of Stiles’ thigh. Derek is bigger than Stiles in every aspect.
Well, he’s not sure about every aspect. Stiles has never seen Derek’s dick outright, but he’s seen him wear sweatpants, and ooh boy, that bulge gives Stiles the impression that Derek is hung like a horse.
Stiles still hates Derek because Derek still has his asshole-ish ways. Case in point: right the fuck now. But, you can hate someone and still want to fuck them, right? Hate sex exists.
Derek is patiently waiting for Stiles to respond, and Stiles has never been good at staying silent, so it’s only a matter of time.
Stiles finally turns around to face Derek and clears his throat. “That- that means nothing. People watch shit like that all the time. Plus, you hardly qualify as a bear.”
It’s a weak excuse but, hey, Stiles is grasping at straws here.
Derek tilts his head to the side in agreement. “True, but if that was the case, why do you seem so nervous?”
Stiles can’t think of a reasonable response in time and Derek knows it.
Derek smirks again and Stiles really wants to knee him in the dick.
“Do you wanna fuck me?”
Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek. What the fuck is his endgame here? Why is he being such a dick?
Oh yeah, because Derek is a fucking asshole.
“Fine,” Stiles says through gritted teeth. “I find you attractive. I watch porn about big, hairy men fucking twinks because I want you to fuck me. Are you happy now? Jackass.”
Stiles storms into his room and slams the door. That’s a perfect example of why people can’t be pretty and nice. It’s genetically impossible.
Stiles lets out a sigh and dumps his backpack on his bed before stripping out of his clothes and getting into the shower. He stands under the spray for ten minutes, just praying to the cosmic gods out there that a black hole will appear and suck the whole human race into nothingness. After waiting for a few more minutes, and his prayers going unanswered, he washes himself then gets out to dry off. He wraps the towel around his waist and opens the door to find Derek standing outside his bathroom door. He shrieks (a very manly shriek by the way) and covers his chest with his arms, not that that’ll hide much.
“Derek, what the fuck are you doing?”
Derek’s eyes do the slowest sweep in fucking existence down Stiles’ body and Stiles feels his cheeks flush. Ugh, why are the cutest guys always assholes?
“I came to apologize. I was being a dick-”
“What else is new?” Stiles interrupts. Stiles is rewarded with another smirk.
“-and I took it too far. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”
Stiles looks at Derek for a second. They’ve never apologized to each other when they did shit, and even though Stiles didn’t take it as far as Derek did, Stiles can’t stand here and act like he wasn’t also an asshole.
Stiles sighs. “I’m sorry too. I was also kind of a dick. Not as much as you, but still.”
Derek laughs a little, and Jesus H. Christ, how is a laugh sexy? “Apology accepted.”
Stiles holds his hand out for a handshake. Derek puts his hand in Stiles’ and they shake on their newfound not-friendship-but-also-maybe-not-complete-dicks-to-each-other-ship.
“So,” Derek starts after they drop their hands. “wanna have sex?”
Stiles might’ve actually choked on his own fucking spit, because what?
“What?”
“I asked if you wanted to have sex.”
“Where is this even coming from? You hate my guts. Every time I talk you look like you’re going in for a root canal.”
Stiles is so confused, he’s also getting hornier by the minute, but right now, the confusion is outweighing the horniness.
“I don’t hate you. Yeah you talk a lot, and it was so annoying at first, sometimes it still is, but I got used to your incessant chatter.”
Stiles knows he looks dumb, his mouth is gaping and everything. “I think maybe there was something in the water because I must be high. We’ve lived together for over 3 months and you’re telling me that you actually want to have sex with me?”
Derek shrugs. “Yeah. Just because you can be kinda annoying that doesn’t mean you’re not cute. Plus, people have sex all the time, that doesn’t mean we have to, like, date or whatever.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek’s so romantic, how has Stiles been able to resist jumping his bones for this long?
“You just embarrassed the hell out of me, why would I ever want to have sex with you?” Never mind the fact that Stiles definitely does want to have sex with him.
“Maybe you don’t. If not, then fine. We can just go back to how things were. If you do, then we’ll have a great time.”
Stiles is still struggling to wrap his mind around all of this. Derek wants to have sex with him? In what universe does that make sense?
Apparently in this one.
Stiles does this sort of shrug that basically portrays well, what the fuck? Okay then. “Okay. I guess this is happening then.”
Derek smirks for like the fiftieth time in thirty seconds and if Stiles was a stronger man he definitely would’ve kneed Derek in the dick, but clearly, Stiles is weak.
Very, very weak.
“My room or yours?” Derek asks.
“Mine. Since it’s right there,” Stiles points behind Derek and, lo and behold, there’s Stiles’ bed.
Grabbing Stiles’ hand in a surprisingly gentle gesture, Derek walks the three feet from the bathroom to the bed to lay Stiles down.
Derek gets on top of the bed and is sitting on his knees by Stiles’ feet. He pulls his shirt off like he’s in Magic Mike or something before throwing it onto the floor without a care in the world. Jesus, it’s like his muscles have muscles. Stiles starts feeling a little insecure about his body. He’s got muscles, but, he’s not, like, ripped like Derek is. Stiles likes to think he has somewhat of a swimmer’s body.
Looming over him like a fucking creeper, Derek stares down at Stiles. “You know, you’re very pretty.”
Stiles refuses to admit that he blushes at that because he’s not pretty. If anything he’s handsome, some may even say gorgeous.
“Can you just get on with it?” Stiles throwing a scowl in Derek’s direction.
“Bossy. I kinda like that,” he strips his sweatpants off and throws them down too. Now he’s only in a pair of gray boxer briefs and, god, Stiles wants to suck his dick so badly. Which is weird because he’s really not all that experienced with blowjobs, he’s given maybe two blowjobs in his life. Whatever, Derek has a great dick okay?
Derek tugs at the towel around Stiles’ waist. “Is this okay?”
Stiles nods and then the towel is gone, and Stiles is laid bare for Derek to gaze at his leisure. And boy does Derek gaze. He does another slow sweep down Stiles’ body, except this time it’s even more intense because now Stiles is naked.
“You’re not a virgin right?” Derek asks while rummaging through Stiles’ bedside drawer and pulling out the lube. First of all, it’s rude to go through people’s stuff! Second of all, how the hell did Derek know his lube was there? Although, where else would lube be?
“Nope. There will be no deflowering of the Stiles today. Sorry to disappoint.”
Derek shrugs before popping open the lube. “I’m not one of those weirdos who pops a boner at the thought of popping someone’s cherry.”
Stiles chuckles, like actually chuckles. Who knew Derek was even capable of being funny?
Stiles pulls his legs up and hooks his hands behind his knees. The position exposes Stiles’ hole to the extreme and it makes Stiles blush. Just because he’s not a virgin doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get nervous or embarrassed during sex.
Derek knee-walks closer to Stiles and squirts some lube onto his fingers. He puts one hand on Stiles’ right thigh while the other one gently and slowly breaches his entrance. Fuck, his fingers are thick. Thicker than Stiles’ that’s for sure. Stiles definitely isn’t shy about fingering. He fingers himself all the time, but it’s been a while since someone else’s fingers were up there. Stiles is nervous and excited about it all.
Derek doesn’t spend too much time with the one finger, quickly adding a second one and that’s when it starts feeling good. Derek’s fingers are about an inch away from his prostate and Stiles is about to curse him out until Derek presses both fingers against his prostate and Stiles has to bite his lip to stop the loud ass moan that almost escaped his mouth. Judging by the look on Derek’s face, he knows he touched Stiles’ prostate, and being the asshole that he is, he has a cocky smile on his face.
After scissoring those two fingers inside Stiles for a few minutes, Derek adds a third finger. The stretch is definitely there, but hey, Stiles likes a little pain with sex. He can be kinky sometimes.
“Okay. I’m ready, come on,” Stiles says. He was starting to get impatient. He just wants to get dicked down already, damn.
Derek gently removes his fingers and gets off the bed to pick up his sweatpants. He reaches into the pocket and retrieves a condom out. Stiles’ mouth drops.
“So you just knew I’d have sex with you?”
“I didn’t know. I just hoped.”
That smarmy little bastard.
Derek gets back in bed and, finally, removes his briefs and...
Holy mother of god.
Well, maybe not the mother of god. That’s blasphemous as fuck. But! The sentiment is the same because wow. Stiles is glad he didn’t knee him in the dick because that dick is too gorgeous to cause serious injury to. He’s not like porn star big, but it is big and long too. And it’s uncut, which Stiles has a weird sort of kink about. He loves uncut cocks. Yeah, that’s a good-looking cock right there.
Derek unwraps the condom and rolls it onto his cock. He then grabs the bottle of lube that he placed on the bed and squirts more out before slathering a generous amount onto said cock. He makes Stiles move his hands before replacing them with one of his own, the other is at the base of his cock, lining it up to Stiles’ hole.
“You ready baby?” Derek asks.
“Call me baby again and I’ll dropkick you in the throa- oh fuck.”
Of course, Derek chose when Stiles was mid-threat to start pushing his cock inside. Geez, that is seriously a big cock, even the fingering didn’t make it burn any less. Derek gently pushes his cock in deeper before pulling it out, then he pushes it in a little deeper than he did at first before pulling it back out again. He repeats that until his cock is seated all the way inside, his balls to Stiles’ ass. Then he stops and waits. There’s sweat gathering above Derek’s eyebrow and some is even rolling down his temple. Needless to say, Derek isn’t as unaffected as he’s trying to be. Which makes Stiles feel kind of great actually.
“Okay, you can move now,” Stiles informs Derek. And when Stiles says Derek goes to town, he really means that.
Derek puts his other hand behind Stiles’ left knee and pulls out all the way, not even the tip is inside, before thrusting back in. Hard.
Stiles’ breath gets forced out of him at the movement. This truly is hate sex, kinda. Derek said he didn’t hate Stiles, but he certainly doesn’t like him all that much. At least, not yet. Who knows what will stem from this. That’s something to think about when Derek isn’t pounding him into the mattress.
Derek delivers a thrust that nails Stiles’ prostate dead on and Stiles makes this super embarrassing sound, like a high-pitched keen. He knows he’s not going to live that down after this.
After that, Derek is consistent with the hard abuse on Stiles’ prostate, and Stiles is getting close to orgasm embarrassingly fast. He isn’t too sure he’ll be able to last much longer. Although, Derek doesn’t seem like he’s going to be able to either. If the grunts and groans he’s letting out are anything to go by.
“Unh, fuck. Derek-!”
“Yeah, you’re gonna come?”
Stiles frantically nods his head and grabs his own cock to start stroking himself. Derek thrusts harder if that’s even possible, and within a few seconds, Stiles is coming all over his stomach.
“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek groans and thrusts one, two, three more times before stopping with a deep, guttural moan. He almost sounds like an actual bear and Stiles can’t help the giggle that escapes him.
Derek gives him a weird look but his lip quirks up in a maybe sort of smile. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh nothing,” Stiles gives him a shit-eating grin.
And since it’s already been established that Derek is an asshole, he grinds and his cock brushes against Stiles’ oversensitive prostate causing Stiles’ whole body to convulse. He slaps Derek’s arm.
Derek pulls out and lets go of Stiles’ legs. They’re sore from being in the same position for so long but Stiles can’t even care. He’s sated and all he wants to do now is take a nap. Stiles stretches his whole body like a cat while Derek disposes of the condom.
“Okay, that was fun. If you want to annoy me, I’ll be in my room.” And with that, Derek walks out of Stiles’ room to go to his own.
Derek was definitely a dick, but Stiles could deal with him. Especially if they continue to fuck like that.
Holy (not) mother of god indeed.
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male chivalry
warnings: okay so there is a trigger warning of sexual harassment and attempted sexual assault, language, men being gross, protective!bucky, angst a bit, i think that’s it, if you see anything else let me know
word count: 3230 :)
a/n: idk why it took me so long to finish this, but it’s here now!!! also this is based off this post from @teaboot (just the op bc the rest of it pissed me off :)) i hope y’all like it. i hope it’s what y’all expected idk, i’m proud of it.
i really hope i did the topics justice, if you don’t think i did, please shoot me a message and help me figure out how to do better. <3
p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open! also this is not beta read, so all mistakes are my own.
xoxo ray
ray’s m.list
************************************
It had been about three weeks since Bucky had first met the group of four at the protest. Bucky made sure to check in with Steve and let him know what he was doing. Steve was always worrying about Bucky, which was totally understandable because of everything they had been through.
Bucky’s day was a relaxed one with little to no time to dawdle. Over these three weeks, he had learned more from an eighteen year old than he ever thought he would. It was easier to open up to her, for some reason. Bucky hadn’t fully figured that out yet either, but he wasn’t going to question it.
Bucky had been going to his court mandated therapy with Dr. Raynor, to say they were making progress would be a lie. Honestly, Bucky was making more progress with the new individuals in his life. They knew what he did as the Winter Soldier-- no they know what the Winter Soldier did, Cassie made sure the distinction between the two was crystal clear. Bucky was still a bit cautious around them, not wanting to hurt them or be a burden to them.
It amazed Bucky how open they were with each other. Back in the 40’s, you didn’t express your feelings. Especially if you were a man, for fear of being labeled something unsavory. Even stranger still to Bucky was the encouragement and support that everyone gave to those in hard times. It warmed Bucky’s heart to see Penny comforting Freddie after his recent break up.
“Freddie and Ted had been together a little over six months,” Cassie explained to Bucky one night after the group had dispersed from the dining table. Bucky and Cassie were standing over the sink washing the dinner plates and cutlery. “Freddie was so in love with him. I thought Ted felt the same, but I guess that’s just how it goes, right?”
Bucky shrugged, this was one of his first experiences with modern romance. Dating in the 40’s was very rigid, which was to be expected, but nowadays everything is very fluid. It truly fascinated Bucky.
“I honestly don’t know.” Bucky shrugged as he dried the pristine plates. Just as he began to get lost in thought, Evie pulled him into a subject that he hadn’t thought of in a real long time.
“What was it like with women in the forties, Buck?” Bucky blinked at her and considered his answer carefully. The group had been teaching him how to handle some subjects sensitively.
“To be honest? The last date that I went on was to the World Expo of Tomorrow in 1943, the night before I shipped out to England.” He turned, leaning his weight on the counter behind him and crossing his arms over his chest. “I went with Steve, this was before he was Captain America, so when he was a little ol’ gangly thing. I had hooked us up with two women, one for me and one for Stevie, their names were Dot and Connie, I think.”
“No, no, that’s not what I mean, Buck. What was it like with women?”
Bucky tilted his head in question.“What do you mean?”
“What was it like with them? Like, how were they treated as a whole?”
“Oh, uh I think they were treated well? My Ma always told Steve and I to treat women with respect, so we did.”
“Right, but what about everyone else? How did they treat women?” Bucky was confused by the question and he began to think that he was giving the wrong answers.
“Um, I guess I don’t know. I guess they were treated how they are today?” Both of the girls in front of him released disdained scoffs.
“Well, that’s unfortunate, right Cas?” Cassie nodded at Evie and dropped her head in disappointment.
“Why do you say that?” Bucky asked. He was genuinely curious about what the girls were referring to. “I mean, I get that the treatment of women hasn’t always been good but it’s not that bad right?” The girls shared a knowing look, and then Evie sighed. She hauled herself out of her chair and nodded to Bucky.
“Alright, let’s go take a walk, just you and me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Oh, just a couple blocks away to the Walgreens. Sound okay?” Bucky agreed, grabbing his jacket and waiting for Evie by the doorway. “We’ll be back soon, Cas.”
“Uh, are you sure that’s a good idea, Evelyn?” Bucky had only ever heard Cassie use Evie’s full name when she was getting in trouble.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine, Cas, I swear.” Evie glanced at Bucky, “Besides, I’ve got a Sargent escorting me, so we’ve got nothing to worry about.” She threw a smile to her older sister whose face was just a veil of worry and doubt.
Bucky and Evie exited the apartment building and neither of them had said anything since. Bucky was wondering what this whole exercise was all about, but he wasn’t going to say anything until Evie did. The pair walked up onto a crosswalk, causing them to stop and wait so Evie was able to turn the man beside her.
“So, before we go any further, I just want to set the scene for you.” She took a calming breath and it was now that Bucky realized that this was the first time that she was noticeably scared. His brows furrowed and he nodded as she continued. “It’s ten o’clock on a Wednesday night and you’re in Brooklyn, walking to your local Walgreens because you need tampons.” Bucky huffed out a small laugh as Evie playfully glared at the man.
“Yeah, yeah. The female menstrual cycle is hilarious as is the pink tax that is put on feminine hygiene products. Laugh it up, James.” She shook her head and pulled Bucky closer to the front of a building. “I’m trying to tell you something, ya asshole. So, you see that it’s dark outside because it’s late but you decide to risk it anyway because you have a flight to catch at four the next morning. You leave your apartment and you are greeted with this.” She gestured to the expanse in front of her.
“Alright, let’s go. And just a word of wisdom real quick before we really get going. Women are considered fragile but I’ve never seen anything as easily wounded as a man’s ego.”
“Wow, that’s quite a pearl.” Bucky caught up to Evie as she made her way down the street.
“So being a woman and even more so, being a woman at night, means that you have to constantly be on guard.” As they were walking, a man in a greasy white tank top passed them. The man’s head turned and he scanned Evie’s body.
“Goddamn, that’s a sweet little body there, baby girl.” Bucky’s head snapped around to the man, but Evie kept walking. Bucky looked over to Evie with concern riddling his features.
“Hey, sweetcheeks! Let me talk to you for a while!” The greasy man was now following Evie and Bucky. “I bet I can show you a better time than he can, baby girl. Come on, let me talk to you.” He reached his hand out, gripping Evie’s arm and pulling her to face him.
“Please don’t touch me.” “Get your fucking hands off her, you dick.” The man took a step backwards away from the pair.
“Well, fine you bitch! I didn’t want you anyway, fucking fat ass.”
“Hey, you don’t just get to fucking walk away, you jackass! Apologize to her.”
“Why should I apologize to her? I was giving her a compliment.” Bucky’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Did this guy just fucking--
“Okay, buddy.” Bucky went to approach the man to settle their disagreement when Evie stopped him.
“James, leave it. Let’s go.” She kept walking and Bucky didn’t want to leave her alone, not after that whole debacle.
“What the fuck was that Evie?” He questioned quickly, she shook her head in response but never verbally responded to him. A few paces later, the pair was about to pass a group of men leaned up against the brick wall behind them. Brown paper bags crunched around bottles were grasped in their hands. Drunken laughter was ringing out through the near empty streets.
“Hey baby! Why don’t you come on over here so we can talk to ya!” One of the men began to step in front of Evie effectively stopping her movement. The eighteen year old took a few steps backwards, coincidentally into Bucky’s chest. His arms came up to meet hers, about to move in front of her in a protective stance.
“Woah, you got a bodyguard baby?” The man tilted his head and stared at Evie. “You know you don’t need him sweetheart.”
“Damn, baby girl. You’re fine as hell.” Another man walked to stand next to the first. “What do I gotta do to get you in my bed?”
“Please leave us alone.”
“No, baby girl I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen.” Bucky stepped in front of Evie protectively.
“I think she told you to leave us alone.” The two men in front of Bucky didn’t waver. Two raised brows and a fit of laughter later, they still maintained their ground.
“Why? You guys going somewhere to fuck? Already got a piece of that ass and don’t want to share it big man?”
“That’s just cold. You gotta share sometime. And it’s just easier to do it now rather than later.” Evie trembled behind Bucky and leaned up so only Bucky could hear her.
“Come on Bucky, let’s just go back to the apartment.” She tugged on his right arm, fingers digging into his soft flesh. Bucky was sure that he would have crescent shaped indentations where her nails laid in because of how much she was gripping him.
Bucky’s eyes flicked up and down the two men in front of him, assessing how much of a threat they were. They were clearly enough of a threat to frighten Evie to the point of wanting to go home. Bucky gave Evie a stiff nod, not taking his eyes off of the men.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going baby? We’re just getting started!” One of them yelled at the pair as he reached out to grab Evie’s forearm. A split second later, Bucky’s left hand balled into a fist and he launched it at the man’s face. A loud crack resounded and a groan left the man’s mouth as he hit the ground. A look of shock fell across the other’s faces as they saw Bucky standing over their fallen comrade. The group took several steps away from the pair, holding their hands up in surrender.
“Don’t you ever touch a woman without her permission, you fucking prick.” Bucky then turned quickly, grabbing Evie’s wrist tightly and hauling her away from the men. Several paces later, Bucky still held a tight grip on the girl's arm.
“Bucky, you’re kind of hurting me.” Evie’s voice broke through Bucky’s barriers. He let up on how fast he was walking and then dropped Evie’s arm.
Worried eyes scanned her body for any bruising, “I’m so sorry, doll. Are you okay?” Evie laughed as she was rubbing her sore wrists.
“Bucky, that’s normal for any woman. Ever.” Shaking her head, she began walking back towards the apartment. “We could’ve kept on going to Walgreens, but I wasn’t sure your fragile heart could take it.” Bucky drew in his brows and a deep frown etched itself into his features.
“What the hell do you mean that’s normal, Evelyn?” He thrust his arm behind them, gesturing to what they just went through. “Nothing about that was normal.” Still shaking her head, the eighteen year old shrugged her shoulders.
“It’s normal for women.” She glanced at Bucky as she continued on her way. “Also, I know that you were probably just defending my honor or protecting me or whatever, but I want you to really think back, Buck. Think about when you were picking up women in the forties, did you ever push when they didn’t want to have that drink with you? Did you continuously ask for them to dance with you?”
“No, I told you. My Ma raised me the right way.” They walked up to the apartment building and Bucky reached for the door handle. Evie began making her up the stairs, Bucky not far behind her. She stopped suddenly, a few flights before Cassie’s apartment.
“What about your friends?” Bucky was taken aback. His memories were still a bit fuzzy about those times, but he could remember clearly enough. Although he wasn’t quite sure what she meant by the questions she was asking.
“What are you getting at Evie?” He huffed while opening the door to Cassie’s apartment. Freddie and Penny were lounged on the couch with an almost empty bottle of wine. Cassie’s head shot up at the sound of the two walking in the doorway. Evie dumped her things off on the granite countertop and turned on her heel to stare at Bucky.
“Did you ever stop your friends when women said no?” The quiet laughter between Penny and Freddie stopped suddenly as Evie’s question hung in the air. All eyes were on Bucky as he gulped and thought back to the times at the bars. Out with Steve and the other Howling Commandos, did they ever do that? He tried to think of a time when they pushed for what they wanted to happen. Of a time when the woman they were pursuing reluctantly gave in because they wouldn’t leave her alone. Evie didn’t wait for an answer, she could see that he was processing everything.
“So why did you stop those guys back there?” Her brows raised and her head tilted in question. Bucky took a deep breath and was about to answer when Evie cut him off. “By punching that guy out there, you’re a hero and we should all thank you and congratulate you for doing the right thing.” She stepped closer to Bucky and the three in the living room understood where Evie was going.
“What do you think would have been said if I would’ve punched him? Sure, you would’ve said something snappy and nice about how I can take care of myself. The general public though? They would say that I overreacted.”
“Easy Evie, he’s still learning.” Cassie said quietly. Bucky was thankful for that, he still did have a lot to learn but it felt like Evie was attacking him. That’s the point, you fucking dumbass. If you had been berating her for putting herself in danger by punching that guy, you would think she was reckless.
“Her point, Bucky, is that the double standard for men and women goes beyond what we expect. Everyone goes crazy for the knight saving the damsel, but everyone hates the damsel for saving herself.” Freddie explained from the comfort of the couch. Bucky nodded, starting to understand the concept. “And her questions about your old buddies. That has to do with the fact that you’re part of the problem.”
“What problem is that?” Bucky was honestly scared to know the answer but he knew to fully learn, he had to get all the facts, both good and bad.
“Stunting the growth of feminism. Being one of the people perpetuating the fact that it’s okay for men to be violent, but not for women.”
“Violence in the form of defending oneself in any capacity.” In Bucky’s line of work, he sees tons of capable and strong women. Natasha, Okoye, Shuri, Sharon, he could think of so many. Then he tried to think of when any of them got the limelight like Steve or himself.
“So it’s like anytime that there would be press releases for the team, and the interviewers would come and ask us questions,” he paused to think how to word what he wanted to say, “they always ask the guys about like super important things like how we’re keeping the city safe and stuff. But when they talk to the girls, they ask about their workout schedule and if they can wear underwear under their suits?”
“Yes, it’s exactly like that Bucky. That’s just a different form of it.” Evie replied quickly. She came up to hug Bucky. “I didn’t mean to attack you or anything, but this is something that we all feel is really important for you to grasp now that you’re back out there.”
“And now that you can recognize when it’s happening, the next important step is to stop it before it happens.” Penny yelled from the living room as she downed the last of the bottle in her hand.
“I’m so sorry, Evie. I didn’t know.”
“I know, I’m sorry too. You’re still figuring stuff out, but I needed you to see what it was really like for women.”
“Okay.” Bucky nodded. “How can I help this situation?” The group exchanged proud looks.
“Well, educate everyone around you. Don’t let it happen when you’re around.” Cassie said as she walked into the kitchen to crack open another bottle of wine. “And just support women. Push our problems into the public’s eye.” Bucky smiled, he could handle that, he was good at that.
Considering he was on his way to becoming a member of the Avengers, he would be able to influence from up high. He could openly support groups that were run by women, for women. He was used to standing in the background for things he didn’t believe in, so standing for something that he did was going to be a cakewalk.
A concern floated into the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He looked down at Evie, who had just recently released him from her death grip of a hug. “You know how to defend yourself right?”
Evie’s brows raised in a challenging manner, “Do I look like I don’t know how to defend myself?” The man shook his head and smiled as the surrounding group laughed. Cassie poured a glass of wine and cracked open a bottle of beer for Bucky.
They all made their way to the comfy couches to snuggle in for a movie night, satisfied with their teachings for the night.
“What are we watching tonight?”
“Well, in the spirit of feminism, we are going to watch Legally Blonde.” Penny commented as she picked up the remote. “And it’s Freddie’s favorite so yeah.”
The lights clicked off as the opening credits ran for the movie. Bucky looked around his group of friends as they giggled at the screen. Evie had her head in Cassie’s lap and she was stretched across the sofa with her feet tucked under Bucky’s thigh. Freddie and Penny were curled up in the loveseat across from where Bucky was. Pieces of popcorn and glasses of red wine were being passed from person to person, with the exception of Evie who was still underage. The energy surrounding the five of them was something Bucky hadn’t experienced in a long time and he wasn’t going to give it up anytime soon either.
A large grin overtook his face, although today was one of the harder lessons for him to learn, he wouldn’t want anyone else to be teaching him.
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@mishaandthebrits
#twenty first century liabilities#bucky x oc#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes fanfic#james buchanan barnes fanfiction#sebastian stan#bucky fanfic#bucky fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader
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𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞
pairing: Lee donghyuck x reader (ft. nct members)
genre: fluff, angst, comedy and spice.
inspired song: Bestie by Lloyd.
summary: donghyuck’s and his s/o memories as best friends leading up to becoming lovers. (btw this one’s a little longer than the ones i usually write so beware loves.)
Haechan’s POV: June, 24th, 2018. “Today’s the day where I finally tell her how I feel. After 7 years of my friendship, growing up together and holding back my feelings for so long, Today is the day where things change. I’m tired of being stuck in the friend zone this is my one and only chance before she moves away. Now or Never Hyuck...”
“She's a bad one not a fast one. Every time we get together we have fun”
Growing up, me and y/n always were always bound to be apart of each other’s lives. We’ve grew up in the same neighborhood, our parents met each other in school, our friends are dating each other and we even go to the same school together. Sounds very corny right? It’s true though.
Our thing was always playing horror games together every night after we finish doing homework together. She was always the procrastinator so I had to give her some motivation. Not only that, we always play around the swing sets in the park that’s right in front of our houses to talk about anything and everything that was going on in our life’s.
This one time she got so drunk after Mark’s birthday party and was trying to swing so high and flew off the swing set thinking she was super man. Heh, she can be such a idiot at times. She may be one of the goofiest, bubbly and sweetest people I know. She can also be caring, overprotective and keep me calm whenever I’m always acting crazy.
I don’t remember what exact moment I feel in love with you, but I do remember feeling like as time went by, my love for you stared to grow much stronger. Everyone around us was starting to suspect how we felt about it each other especially my mom she adored you so much and loved the idea of us being together.
She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.
She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.
She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.
She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.
Once we’ve started getting much older I've tried dating other girls but none of them just didn’t compare to you. I’ve tried to joke around with them, they wouldn’t take me seriously. When I try to ask them out on dates, they would ditch me for someone else. When I try to be affectionate, they reject and always want to stay friends. I normally had luck keeping girls around, but only for a short amount of time. It seemed like every week I had a new girlfriend.
I knew y/n was always frustrated at me trying to tell me there’s other fish in the sea, but hell I want to my little mermaid and that’s y/n-ie. I even teased her about it, but she didn’t seem to take a hint.
“You know y/n... we should honestly just date. We would be the next Hyuna and Edawn in the school. They would have nothing on us.” I even nudged her on the shoulder to get her smiling.
“Hmm? Are you insane that would be too weird. We’re like brother and sister.” I could tell she was flustered, but she wasn’t exactly to thrilled with the idea. “Plus you know how I feel about Mark already. I’ve got to really wow him at this game tonight.” Oh yeah I forgot to mention she had a crush on my other best friend Mark Lee at the time.
“I know she should just be my friend Yet I'm hoping, I'm hoping that maybe it will lead In love happy end.”
It would work my nerves every time she would talk about him and always would ask advice on what to do, but I was very hopeful and believed I still had to chance to win her heart. I gush to everyone including the boys everyday about how madly in love I was with y/n without even realizing.
I would tell everyone, well except her of course. Johnny almost told my secret to everyone at Jaehyun’s house party when we were all playing strip uno. It was shut down real quickly because Doyoung gave him a long hard talk after awhile.
That night was also the worst for me because that was the same days the homecoming game where you confessed your feelings to Mark and became officially a couple. In my mind I wanted to be happy for the two of you as I watched you two kissed each other in front of everyone.
After that day, I avoided you for a while and couldn’t accept the fact that I couldn’t have you at that very moment. I couldn’t spend more time with you, hold you, kiss you, brag to everyone how much I loved you.
Although I was torn and felt defeated when you started dating Mark, I still felt a tiny bit of hope that someday I would still have a chance to make you mine and have our happy ending.
Y/N POV: June 24th, 2018. The day that I say farewell to my best friend Lee Donghyuck before going leaving to go to Harvard. I can’t believe this day has finally come we haven’t had the chance to hang out throughout our entire senior year so I want to make this count. I also want to tell him how I’ve felt about him. Let’s see where do I even start....
“We were children when we met. Just playing house and drinking sodas at the corner store.”
I remember having a hard time making friends my family moves from city to city because of my dad career as a entrepreneur for multiple companies and my mom working as a travel nurse. I was bullied for my struggling with my weight and for being an outcast which caused a lot of depression for me.
One day I remember running away from these girls in my school because they were trying to throwing apples at me. It was they’re way of trying to help me “eat healthy.” Jokes on them I was the top runner in the track team hehe.
Anyways, I lost them for a good second until I was trapped surrounded by them at the market by my house. I almost felt at lost against the 4 girls, until this crazy guy Lee Donghyuck comes out of no where scaring them away with his Freddy Kruger mask threatening them to leave me alone or he’ll haunt them in their sleep.
I felt bad for laughing, but it was one of the most nicest thing anyone has ever done for me ever since I’ve moved to Korea. He randomly introduces himself to me and offers me to play with him for an exchange of saving my life from those bullies.
“Hey my name is Donghyuck. Those girls always find their next target to pick on, but no worries princess I’m here to protect you. Let me introduce you to my other friends.”
He reached his hand on to me and ever since I was always dragged on to his crazy adventures.
“Like a brother from another. Didn't notice all the other girls they wanted more.”
Donghyuck was pretty popular when it came to having lots of guy friends and dating even when we were kids. In 5th grade on Valentine’s I remembered his desk being flooded with chocolates and anonymous love letters stuffed in backpack.
The idea didn’t bother me at first because I saw Hyuck as my older protective brother. I even slid some letters in my self saying “Happy Valentine’s Day loser. Enjoy those kits kats!” We tend to tease each other a lot, but that’s how we showed our love to each other.
People in our class including the boys Jaemin, Chenle and Yang Yang were encouraging us to date, but we just never seemed thrilled with the idea.
“Awhh c’mon you guys would be so cute together. You guys have kissed once before anyways it’s a sign.” I remember the boys would always poke fun at us, but we both would scream.
“Ew no way! Plus that kiss didn’t count it was for a school play.”
Yet every time a guy would try to ask me out, Donghyuck would scare them away because he claims that I’m still too young to date. Smh, yeah I should’ve known that it was actually because you were jealous.
“But now look at the glow up. You're the finest thing I ever seen, but you never been more than a friend to me.”
As much as I hate to admit it, but god sometimes Donghyuck can be hot...sexy...hell good looking when he wants to be. It doesn’t help that he’s teasing me about it either.
There was this one time when we were playing Mario Karts in his room and it was on a hot summer day at the time. This guy had the nerve to take his shirt off in front of me with sweat dripping on his abs, hair slightly messy to the side, and leans back with his grey sweat pants on.
GREY SWEATS!! Like cmon. I could barely concentrate on the game after awhile admiring how painly handsome. I felt very guilty because I was still dating Mark at the time, but my mind was going 2 different directions.
“Hey y/n if your hot you can take your shirt off too. I thought my mom had the mechanic fixed the ac by now so sorry about that.” There he goes sticking his tongue out like that again. Does he have no shame.
“Umm, Hyuck I just remembered I have a test on Friday to study for. Tootles!” I knew if I would’ve stayed in his room much longer I would’ve either passed out or sink deep into his tempting body leaning against mine. It was not only the heat in the room that was driving me crazy, but my beating heart that was burning my chest.
Before I tried to leave he shut the door and pushed me against the wall staring deep into my eyes. “You know princess, we don’t have a math test Friday right? I’m in the same class as you.”
This man uggh, next he proceeds to make me look at him in the eye by lifting my chin up. “D-did I say math test, silly me. I meant biology test.” After laughing awkwardly for a while I realized he wasn’t laughing with me like he usually does. It was like the vibe changed in a matter of 5 sec.
“Listen y/n...I know your dating Mark and all, but would it be wrong to just let me hold you one last time.” Yeah it would be awful, especially when your still technically half naked in front of me.
I’ve never even gotten close to kissing Mark before, yet my friend of 6 years is going to do it. So I had to run out of there before things got worse. “I-I can’t do that Hyuck. You know that wouldn’t be right. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“I'm thinking that one day you'll be mine. And I don't wanna lose you.”
I ran home as fast as I can hyperventilating before I let myself caught any feelings. The truth was for awhile I only wanted to date Mark to try to forget about Hyuck, but after that night I’ve started to realize that I can’t escape my feelings that I have for him it’s impossible.
I love him more than anyone in this world. The thought of that saying had me laughing and crying that night.
June 26th, the day Donghyuck will have one last chance to confess his feelings before his princess y/n leaves off to go to school. Y/N and Donghyuck both run out of each other’s house and decided to meet up at the swing set after 6 years.
They both sit down sighing looking up at the orange sunset sky that’s shinning throughout the area. The two of them slowly swing looking down at the ground waiting for the other person to speak up first.
“So...I bet you probably heard the news already huh? I’ve finally got accept to Harvard. So tomorrow I’ll be going back to my hometown to begin my semester in fall.” Donghyuck responds back by saying.
“I know, I heard from my mom. She nearly cried. You know it would’ve been nice to hear from you. I haven’t seen you since last week.” Y/n finally looks up at him with tears falling down her face.
“Hyuck I’ve been going through so much this past week. I’ve broken up with Mark, my brother was stuck in the hospital and I almost had to repeat senior year if I didn’t pass that state test. So I’m sorry I didn’t contact you lately.”
Hyuck quickly stands up and hugs y/n gently by stroking her hair. “It would’ve been nice to hear your voice. I miss you and I love you.”
They both freeze up at the words he just said “Y-you what now?” Hyuck gulps at first, but then he snaps out of it ready to pour his heart out.”
“LISTEN PRINCESS I LOVE YOU OKAY?? Not just as a friend either. This whole year I never got to hang out with you and I don't know how to pretend, I hate falling in love with my best friend. That night you left my room I almost gave up on us, but I knew I had to tell you before you walk out of my life. Talk about bad timing right?”
Y/N starts giggling wiping her tears for a split second but then smiles by saying.
“I love you too Donghyuck. I have for a long time actually I just didn’t want to ruin my one and only specially friendship I had with you. I was even thinking that trying to move on by dating someone else would work, but it didn’t. Without you in my life, I am blue as the sky.”
The two of you of crack up laughing again at your embarrassing thoughts of each other, but immediately stop trying to think of what should happen next.
“We’re truly some idiots. Now we only have a few hours left of being a couple before you leave. So what happens next y/n?”
Y/n sits on Hyuck’s lap hugging him tightly and leans into his face by saying. “No worries we’ll figure this out once I move. For right now let’s just enjoy our last few hours together as a couple.”
Hyuck wraps arms around y/n waist and feels his heart skipping a beat once she starts kissing him softly in his ear. “Princess you know I’m very ticklish right there.” Ignoring his comments y/n proceeds to kiss his ear again, but then starts trailing down to his neck.
“My B-E-S-T, a true friend to me. Give me love and energy, that is what you send to me”
“Mmm keep calling me princess and I promise you I won’t be able to hold back.” He wiggles his eyebrows at your bold response and smirks by saying...
“Well what’s stoping you? We can do it right here right now on these swing sets.” He starts sliding your hands in your thighs while finally kissing you on your lips.
All that built up passion and emotion was easily displayed as you were kissing him. Not to mention the fact that he’s sliding his hand in your jeans which is making it hard for you to keep your voice down.
“Ahh keep it down y/n...Do you want the neighbors to hear you?” He teases you more by moving your hand in his jeans. “Do it for me too.”
“Lee Donghyuck, are you crazy?? Why don’t we just do this in your room. We will get caught for sure.” He pouts for a second and says
“Yes I’m crazy for you. You already know this though. How about this, we can finish this in my room and we can just tell my mom we stayed up playing games again all night long. Deal?”
“Deal!” You give him one last peck on the lips and grab him by running into his house like there’s no tomorrow. “Slow down princess!” The two of you slammed the door in his room and for the whole night you never dared to leave his side for a split second.
“It's what you do to me.”
The morning after ended up becoming very emotional for the both of you, because this is the last the you’ll be seeing each other face to face until the both of you are done with school. While he’s off becoming a singer, you’ll be on your way becoming a lawyer.
Out of all the places you could possibly move away from again your home next to Donghyuck and his family was the hardest to leave from. You made so many memories here and would cherish it for the rest of your life.
Before heading the road you give your best friend and now boyfriend one last hug and kiss on the forehead before putting your last luggage in the trunk and hitting the road to start your journey.
Although your both moving on to different paths of life career wise, you both will always have your history together and promised to reunite as a couple again when the time is right.
Thanks so much for reading this far you guys and feedback would be much appreciated. ✨
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🏷 : @himitsu-luna @starrdustville @xxminmixx @dundun-baby @purplepsycho03 @kpopsnowball
Send an ask if you want to be added or removed from the tag list. 💫💫💫
#kpop scenarios#kpop fanfic#kpop imagines#kpop reactions#nct 127 smut#nct 127 angst#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 reactions#nct dream scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#nct dream smut#nct dream angst#nct haechan#haechan#haechan fluff#haechan smut#haechan angst#haechan imagines#haechan fanfic#haechan scenarios#nct 127 fanfic#nct dream fanfic
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Reflection//F.W.
Pairings: Fred Weasley x Reader
Warnings: Implied eating disorder, implied body dysmorphia, body insecurities, insecurities in general, mentions of food/drink, language, angst, fluff, sad and insecure Freddie :(
Summary: Fred can’t even look at his reflection without feeling bad about himself and thinking about how you deserve so much more than anything he has to offer.
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. No matter who you are or what you look like, you are absolutely beautiful. If you or if you know anyone who suffers from body dysmorphia (specifically men because it’s not talked about enough), please reach out to someone and learn more. My messages are always open!
Arthur Weasley. Molly Weasley. Bill Weasley. Charlie Weasley. Percy Weasley. Fred and George Weasley. Ron Weasley. Ginny Weasley. The Weasley family. While all connected by their Gryffindor house and flaming red hair, each member of the family was unique in their own sense.
Arthur and Molly were the parents. Arthur’s fascination with Muggles as a Pureblood and Molly’s blunt but loving motherly nature were what set them apart.
Bill was the oldest, the golden child. He was loved at Hogwarts and became a successful curse breaker. No one ever had problems with the wonder that was Bill Weasley.
Charlie forged his own path. The great Hogwarts Quidditch star who likely could have gone professional, had he not found his passion in dragons and made a new life for himself in Romania.
Percy. Perfect prefect Percy, the one who would grow up to be the Minister of Magic, at least that's what everyone thought. He had every aspect of his life perfectly planned out down to the last detail, and oh how Molly loved her rule-abiding son, never a troublemaker.
Ron had a more difficult time making a name for himself. The youngest brother in the family and yet not quite the baby. However, his friendship with Harry Potter and their knack for getting themselves into trouble every year made Ronald Weasley a known name around Hogwarts.
Ginny was the only girl, which made her unique already. Not only that, but she was fantastic at Quidditch, had the heart of a true Gryffindor Lion, and was overall a kind, vivacious, adventurous soul.
Each Weasley had one thing that set them apart. Everyone, that is, except the duo that could never be separated.
Fred and George Weasley. Not Fred Weasley and George Weasley. Fred and George. As if they were one person, joined at the hip with the same ideas, the same personalities, and the same feelings. No matter how hard they tried when they were younger, everyone always came back to calling them Fred and George. Even their own mother often got them mixed up, and showed no care in doing so. As long as it was one of the twins she was alright
.
Once their years at Hogwarts started, the two boys decided to stop fighting the inevitable, and thus began their reign as “Fred and George Weasley, Prank Master Extraordinaires.” They were always together. They were both Quidditch beaters. They pulled some of the finest pranks Hogwarts had ever seen together. They sat next to each other in all of their classes and would sometimes switch seats or call each other the wrong name to see if anyone else would notice. They never did.
“Freddie, you coming?” you asked your boyfriend, jumping up onto his back. It was Hogsmeade weekend, which meant the tradition of you and your friends raiding Honeydukes, Zonkos, and finishing out at The Three Broomsticks was minutes away from happening once again. Fred laughed and spun around, quickly getting dizzy and pulling you both down into the Gryffindor couch.
You rolled on top of him and pulled his chin in for a quick kiss, limbs awkwardly tangled in each other as you shared a sweet moment with the ginger you’d been dating for the last 3 months.
“Ugh my eyes!” George stood behind the couch, hands covering his face in order to shield his view from the innocent scene in front of him.
“Oh shut up George,” you said. “You’re just jealous.”
Fred smirked at his slightly younger brother and pulled you down into a deeper kiss. “Yeah, jealous,” he mumbled against your lips, which resulted in George physically separating your faces with his hands.
“You two disgust me,” he scoffed. “Are you guys ready?”
Fred struggled against his brother’s hand for a second trying to recapture your lips once again, but he eventually gave up once you caved and pulled away.
“I’m all set, has everyone else already left?” The rest of your small friend group consisted of Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet, who you had been close with since your first year. The three boys would run off and pull horrendous pranks while you, Angelina, and Alicia would roll your eyes, secretly coming up with new ideas for jokes to pull on Filch.
George jumped over the couch and hoisted you up by your arms, his strength making you fly through the air for a few seconds before you landed shakily on the warm rugs decorating the floor.
“Yep,” replied your friend. “They said they’d meet us in the Courtyard and we can go from there. If I remember correctly it’s your turn to buy butterbeers.”
You groaned and threw your hands to your pocket, making sure you had the money. “I thought you would’ve forgotten about that.”
George wrapped his arm around your shoulder and gave you a brotherly squeeze. “Never, love. Let’s get going.”
Giggling, you walked in step with your best friend and wrapped an arm around his waist. You turned your head and put out your other arm, gesturing for Fred to come join you.
“C’mon, Fred, what’re you waiting for?”
Fred wasn’t waiting for anything. In fact, the longer he saw you interact with George, the less he wanted to spend the day watching it continue to happen. He didn’t look at you and instead just fiddled with his sweater, the one you had stolen from him so many times until he finally took it back to appreciate how it now smelled like you.
“I’m not feeling too well today, you guys can just go.”
You pouted and fully turned to face your boyfriend. “You were fine just a second ago, do you want me to stay with you?”
He could tell you were about to walk back over and crawl into his lap, but he really needed to be alone. “I’m ok love, just not feeling it today. Bring me back something from Honeydukes though, will ya?”
You gave him a small smile and nodded, wondering if there was anything else you could do to help.
“Don’t worry Y/N,” said George, “I can take care of you. We’ll have a blast!”
“I can take care of myself, Georgie,” you said. Fred winced at the nickname. “But I thank you kindly for the offer.” You bowed sarcastically and began to howl with laughter as George tickled your sides and threw you over his shoulder. “See you later Fred, don’t have too much fun without me!”
He looked up at the last second, only catching a glimpse of your face contorted with giggles as his twin carried you through the halls of the castle.
Fred sighed and got up from the couch, sulking as he made his way to his now empty dorm room. He lied down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, imagination and worries running wild. What were you and George doing right now? Was he still holding onto you, laughing as he clutched your perfect body in his arms? Fred’s jaw clenched, thinking about his brother holding you, kissing you like he did. Because what was the difference between him and his brother? Why would you care if it was George that was touching you instead of Fred. They were the same. To everyone in the world, they were just the mirror images of each other. Just a stupid, unoriginal reflection.
He felt a few hot tears well up, so he turned onto his side and curled up, letting sleep take over and wash his troubles away.
------------------------------
“Alright George, put me down, you’ve had your fun.” The Weasley boy pretended to drop you, only making you clutch his shoulder harder.
“Oh I see,” George said smirking, “now you don’t want me to put you down, huh?”
“Sod off, loser.” You wiggled out of his loosening grasp and elbowed his side. George had decided to carry you not only out of Hogwarts, but also almost the entire way to Hogsmeade itself. An act quite impressive, but the beater was known for his renowned upper body strength.
Angelina came up and grabbed your arm, slowing you down so you would fall away from the rest of the group. “Not trying to steal my love, are you Y/N?” she asked, trying to glare at you but breaking quickly and smiling in the end.
“I don’t know Angie,” you teased, “if you don’t make a move soon maybe I’ll have to take both twins. Paris does sound very nice this time of year.”
She rolled her eyes and gave you a soft shove. “The annoying part is that you could probably pull both of them too. I see the way George looks at you.”
Your best friend, usually so confident and collected, was now very shy and insecure about her love for the younger of the Weasley twins. You and George had no feelings for each other. Both of you knew that and she of course knew that. But sometimes dumb thoughts plagued people’s minds.
“Angie, wanna know a secret?” you asked.
She looked up and nodded slowly.
“The reason George and I’ve been hanging out recently is because he keeps asking me about you. ‘What’s Angie’s favorite food?’ ‘What does she like to do when she’s not kicking ass on the Quidditch pitch?’ blah blah blah.”
Angelina laughed at your horrible impersonation of George’s voice. “You know he’s like a brother to me. I mean, if things between me and Fred keep going how they are then maybe one day he’ll be my actual brother.”
She nodded gratefully and sighed a breath of relief. “I know, I know. It’s just a little weird for me that you two are so close. I feel like I’m third wheeling whenever you guys are there, and you aren’t even the ones dating!”
“That’s just how George is. He’s so sweet, so he’s always there to cheer me up. But you have to trust me, there is not and will not ever be something between me and him. No offence to George, but that’s gross.”
“You’re dating his twin brother! How is that gross?”
“You of all people know that they’re not the same. I prefer my men cocky, arrogant, and pretty,” you quipped, calling Fred out.
“And I prefer mine sweet, compassionate, and handsome, but it looks like George has got a long way to go before he can earn that title.”
Angelina was referring to the scene in front of you, where the man in question was currently shoving Lee’s face into the snow-covered ground.
“Maybe we both need better taste in men,” you said, running with Angelina to tackle George and save your dear friend.
------------------------------
It was 2 weeks later, and Fred was once again missing out on a trip to Hogsmeade. Gryffindor had just played Slytherin in the game of the year, a close match that had the entire school screaming and on the edge of their seats.
“And there Malfoy and Potter go, racing into the sky with their eyes on the snitch,” Lee Jordan shouted into the microphone. “The current score is Gryffindor with 130 points and Slytherin with 110. It all comes down to who can catch this flying bugger.”
A loud crack resounded across the pitch as George sent a bludger straight toward Malfoy, hitting his broom and almost knocking him off.
“Amazing hit by Number 6, beater George Weasley. This could be the end of the game folks, this could be it. Oh! Malfoy’s back on his broom and racing to catch up to Potter. Weasley gave the young Gryffindor seeker a great head start, and it looks like he might have it!”
“Fred!” Angelina cried. Fred looked to where she was gesturing and saw the bludger coming straight toward him. This was his shot. He had a clear path to hit Malfoy, securing the win for Gryffindor.
You were in the crowd, screaming at the top of your lungs. He didn’t want to disappoint you, or the team, or his house. He didn’t want to disappoint people anymore.
“Number 5 Fred Weasley winds up to hit a bludger, he’s got a clean shot toward Malfoy! If he can get this hit it’s game over and victory for Gryffindor!”
With all of his strength he sent the bludger flying, but apparently his aim hadn’t improved with the extra practice he had been doing.
Lee continued to comment on the disaster that was about to happen. “One strong hit to the bludger, but it looks like it’s going in the wrong direction. Oh no! Instead of hitting Malfoy the bludger just hit Potter, sending him and his broom spiraling out of control! Malfoy has taken this opportunity to catch up to the snitch and...and...he’s got it. Malfoy catches the snitch, making the final score 260 for Slytherin to 130 for Gryffindor. A well played match by everyone.”
Except it wasn’t a well played match for Fred. He had let everyone down, again. He was used to it from his parents and older siblings, even most of his teachers. But he had never let down his house before. He had never let down his team.
Fred locked himself away in his room, refusing to talk to anyone. He pulled off his Quidditch robes and shirt and stared at his reflection in the wall length mirror hanging in his dorm room.
He stared at his body, something many girls would comment on and swoon over. He was Fred Weasley, star Quidditch player and resident hottie at Hogwarts. Except he wasn’t anymore.
The definition of his abs weren’t strong enough. He was gaining too much fat, eating too much food. He wasn’t working out enough, that was it. If he would've worked out more then he would’ve made the shot during the game.
Fred wasn’t as ripped as George, he knew that for a fact. Living in the same room for their entire lives, Fred knew how strong his brother was, how defined his biceps were and how he could lift you with absolutely no problem. Fred knew that George was the better beater. It was just statistics. He made the most hits, had the best aim, and won the team the most points.
The only thing Fred was better at was making jokes, but he knew no one liked them. His friends must’ve laughed out of pity. There was no way anyone could not find him annoying, especially with how cocky and overconfident he came across. They just tolerated him because of George. You just loved him because you saw him as another George. You should be with George.
Fred stared into the reflection of himself in the mirror, the one that looked equal parts like him and his twin brother. He groaned as he bent down to the floor, quickly starting another repetition of countless pushups until he would pass out from exhaustion.
------------------------------
Fred had stuck to his cycle. Wake up, eat (but not much), go on a run across the castle grounds, go to class, work out for 2 hours, eat dinner (but once again, not much), work out again and then pass out from working so hard. Any time he had outside of class was spent on the Quidditch pitch or locked away in his dorm, overworking his body and secretly comparing it to his brother’s. No matter what he did, he never caught up. He was still the more annoying, weaker, less attractive reflection of his twin.
“There’s something wrong with him,” George said to you, walking to the courtyard for one of your breaks. “He’s been so off lately and I can’t figure out why.”
“You’re telling me!” You had noticed Fred’s changes in behavior and tried to talk to him about it. He had become quieter and less outgoing, usually choosing to be alone and do God knows what while you went off with your friends. In fact, the two of you hadn’t had an evening to yourselves in over a month. Not ever seeing your boyfriend was beginning to take a toll on you too.
“I’ve tried talking to him and asking if anything’s wrong, but he always blows me off,” you complained. “He just seems so sad and miserable, and the worst part is, I have no idea why!”
George just shook his head. “Me neither. He’s my bloody twin brother and we never even talk anymore. He’s always on his broom or locked himself in our room. Doesn’t ever let me in, so I don’t know what’s going on back there.”
Thoughts began to race through your head. “Do you,” you gulped. “Do you think he’s hiding something from us? Or...or someone?”
“Oh Godric no,” George said suddenly, wrapping you up in a hug. “Fred would never cheat on you darling, he loves you too much for that. He would go on and on about how bloody beautiful you are and how you’re the perfect person for him and it took everything I had not to strangle the git sometimes cuz he would never let me sleep.”
You squeezed him back tighter. “When...when did he say these things?”
George paused for a few seconds. “A little over a month ago. I...I haven’t really heard him talk much recently…”
You broke down sobbing in your friend’s arms, lowering yourself onto a bench and turning to cry into his chest.
“Shh, shh darling, it’s not your fault. I’m sure this is a misunderstanding. Freddie loves you so much, he would never hurt you, ever.” He grabbed your chin so you were looking up at him. “Do you understand me?”
You nodded, eyes red and puffy before going back to his chest to cry. You spoke to him through broken sobs. “I...I’m gonna talk to him tonight. I need to f-find out what’s...wrong.”
George stroked your hair soothingly and rubbed your back. “Sounds like a plan, love. You’ve got this.”
You thanked him and continued to cry until you felt all of your sadness release. George helped you up and walked you to the bathroom to get your face cleaned up for the next class. Little did you or George know that Fred, from afar, had just witnessed the entire scene.
------------------------------
In his usual place as of late, Fred was curled up on his bed, unable to move from the intensity he had just put his body through. He tried to shift to get into a more comfortable position but it only made him groan and his stomach growl.
His arms, which were supposed to be getting stronger, were weak from malnutrition. He wasn’t even strong enough to sit up and do his Potions homework, which only made him feel worse about himself.
All his life it had been Fred and George. It didn’t matter that his name was first, because there was always George to follow. They were the same person, and yet he still felt inferior to his brother. No matter what he did, how hard he worked, George was always going to be better. He was the stronger twin, the kinder one, the more compassionate one who knows when a prank has gone too far. He was everything that you deserve, and everything Fred wished he could be.
Fred was startled by a knock on the door. “Freddie,” your muffled voice called through. He stayed quiet, hoping you would leave and look for him somewhere else, or better yet give up on him altogether. He couldn’t stand to look at you at the moment.
“Freddie I’m coming in.” Before he could do anything you had cast alohomora and were standing next to his bed.
Fred turned his head away from you, trying not to let you see how red his face was from crying. He pulled the covers up over his face, blatantly ignoring you.
“We need to talk.” You sat down next to him and ripped the blanket off, revealing a mostly naked Fred aside from his pair of boxers. You grabbed his shoulders to roll him over to face you, but you jumped back as he let out a pained groan.
“Get out, Y/N. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “You haven’t wanted to talk for the past month and I’m tired of it. I know there’s something wrong, and it’s killing me to see you like this. Please, Fred, you need to tell me what’s happening.”
The boy rolled his eyes and slowly moved to face you. “Why?” he asked. “So you can run off to George and have him comfort you? Why don’t you just save us both the trouble and go be with him.”
You were shocked by his words. Fred had never been the jealous type. Whenever you would talk casually with your exes or other boys would flirt with you, Fred was understanding and calm, always saying that you were his and he knew he didn’t have to worry about anything. But now for some reason he was seething with jealousy, and over his brother no less. It didn’t make any sense.
“What in the world are you talking about?” you asked indignantly. “You know that George is just my friend, my best friend. He’s in love with Angelina and I’m in love with you.”
Fred scoffed. “Yeah, alright then. What did you and Angelina do, draw straws and decide who gets who? It’s not like it would matter, as long as you got one of the twins.”
You sat down on the bed, fuming with anger. “Where is this coming from? You know I love you. I don’t love George, at least not more than a friend or a brother. I don’t love anyone else and I don’t want to be with anyone else, just you.”
Your hand traveled to his shoulder but he jerked up so that he was inches away from you. “Don’t lie to me. You’re just like everyone else. You got one of the twins, and then you realized that you got the worse one, so off you are to go seduce George, because he’s just my reflection but better. I know exactly how you think you worthless bitch!”
Both of you went silent. Fred had never spoken those things to you before. Never once had he raised his voice in anger, and he had never even thought about calling you a bitch or anything of the sort.
You brought your hand back to slap him, but you hesitated when he just gave up and sighed, awaiting the hit and not even trying to do anything about it. He was weak and exhausted and had completely given up on everything.
Lowering your hand, you moved it to caress his cheek. He leaned into the touch, letting small tears fall from his eyes and drop onto your fingers. You pulled him into your shoulder slowly, where he sniffled and cuddled up next to you.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean that. You’re perfect.”
After a few seconds you finally spoke up. “I love you so much. You cheer me up when I’ve had a bad day with your jokes.” Fred hummed into your shoulder. “You’re always helping me relax when things get too stressful, and you take me on the best adventures I could ever imagine.” He turned his head to meet your eyes. “You and George, while you might look the same, are completely different. I could never love him the way I love you, because he’s not you. He’s sweet, compassionate Georgie, and you’re fierce, loyal, loving, optimistic, beautiful Freddie.”
Fred nuzzled into your shoulder and pulled you down so you were both laying down on his bed. He mumbled something that you couldn’t make out.
“What was that love?”
“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” He spoke so shyly, pieces of his insecurities finally becoming apparent.
You held his face in your hands and stared into his mesmerizing brown eyes. “I think you’re beautiful, gorgeous, handsome, pretty, and absolutely perfect the way you are.” You ran your hands down his toned abs, starting to understand what he had been doing those many hours each day. “No matter how much muscle you have or how big or small you are, I’ll always love you. You look perfect to me.”
To show Fred exactly how you felt you kissed him all over his body, starting at his neck and moving to his chest all the way down to his thighs and calves. “Just because you’re a guy doesn’t mean you have to be super buff and toned. All bodies are beautiful, and that goes for men too. And you are the most beautiful of them all.”
Fred squeezed you tight, mentally hitting himself for not talking to you earlier. You loved him and he knew that. You didn’t love George and you didn’t love him because he was one of the Weasley twins. You loved him because he was simply Fred. Fred Weasley.
You shifted out of his hold and started to leave the room. “Where are you going love, please stay,” he asked, giving you his biggest puppy dog eyes.
“I’m gonna sneak into the kitchens and get you some food. You need to eat, Freddie. I’ve seen you skip meals and it’s not healthy.” He nodded reluctantly, still self conscious about the weight he thought he gained.
“Speaking of not being healthy, I think you should slow down with the workouts. There’s nothing wrong with getting a better body, but you’re destroying yourself in the process. Can you take a break for a few days and rest up before reevaluating your workouts?”
It took Fred a second to think over. He still wanted a body like his brother’s, but you were right. He wouldn’t get it from not eating and constantly hurting himself. “Yeah, alright.”
“I think there’s leftover ham and potatoes from dinner, does that sound good?” Fred agreed, cozying himself back up under the covers.
“Perfect,” you said. “I’ll get food and we can eat and catch up, and maybe read that book I was telling you about? You said you wanted to read it with me.”
“Sounds perfect, love. Thank you so much.”
You nodded and walked out the door, closing it softly. Fred looked around the room he had spent so much time in recently until his eyes landed on the mirror hanging on his wall. With what was left of his strength he got up and stood in front of it.
It wasn’t going to be easy. He had so many deep seated insecurities that he would need to work out, and it would take time. But for the first time in a while, Fred could finally look at his reflection and smile.
#fredweasley#fred x reader#fred#fredweasleyfluff#hogwarts#georgeweasley#fred weasley x reader#fredweasleyimagine#fredweasey#fred x y/n#fredweasleyfic#weasley#tw eating things#tw body dysphoria#tw cursing
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