Freddie/Karen, First Times
Freddie/Karen, First times or Skill Comes With Practice or Finally Golden
...Wherein Karen is a perfectionist and Freddie doesn’t resent her yet.
Title: First Times
Fandom: Skins (Gen2)
Pairing: Freddie/Karen, hints to canon Freddie/Effy
Rating: R
Warnings: incest, angst, sexual content
Words: 2400
Summary: There are some first times between Freddie and his sister no one would’ve have ever dreamed of.
A/N: This was written to fill the prompt Freddie/karen, you’re finally golden, boy by yourmyqueen that she posted in the Skins comment ficathon
...
The first time she came to him, she said she wanted to practice. Freddie had known nothing but to oblige. He had been younger then. With his eyes he had followed her moving to the door, had watched her as she turned the key carefully, had watched her as she turned round again, slowly walked up to him, proceeding to sit next to where he was sitting, on her bed full of pink and old stuffed teddies and dolls.
There she had leaned over his lap and turned the lamp at her bedside, and Freddie had wondered about that, not sure why she needed more light as her room was already brightly lit, showing all of her posters of this and that celebrity, people Freddie had no intention of getting to know.
But this wasn’t about them, anyways, this was about his sister who turned to face him, looking at him with dark eyes, nearly expectantly. You wanted this, Freddy thought, and maybe even voiced out because she scooted closer, a then newfound determination on her face and swiftly she leaned in, no warning, and kissed him full on the lips and all he could do is sit there and let her do it, and hope she wouldn’t stop anytime soon.
And she didn’t.
….
When it first had happened, Freddie himself hadn’t felt the desire to get intimate with girls yet, any girl really, let alone his sister. To be fair, he hadn’t fully hit puberty back then, he was only ten.
But Karen was older, two and a half years, and all she wanted was to be perfect in anything she did, and it so happened it should be sex now; sex and anything that came with it. Karen wasn’t stupid, she was smart, in fact, and she just knew that Skill Comes With Practice and so she went to whom else than Freddie, her little brother, really?
He was just perfect as a helpful bit of exercise.
And after a while of her coming to him, whispering, Come to my room after dinner, Freds, and the way her lips already brushed his ear when she said that, and how tender they felt, and the hair at the back of his neck stood up, after all of that he found himself laying in bed at night, hoping she’d come to him again, and again and again…
At first, it was only kisses; kisses on the mouth that made Freddie tingly all over. His hands grabbed the bed sheets at the sensation and once or twice he even held onto Karen, onto her soft pink t-shirt, or onto her slim caramel wrist.
It didn’t stay with kisses on the mouth, though. Karen wanted to master the art, and master she did. On his 12th birthday she smiled over to him mischievously as they all sat around the table, he blowing out the candles that stood proudly on top of their mother’s cake, one she had baked especially for him.
At noon, long after he had opened all his presents, and when his belly was stuffed with cake, she slipped into his room, wearing a short dress with shoulder straps, and in her eyes she had a gleam.
Freddie proceeded to get up from his bed but she pushed him down again, gently, as she leaned over him, causing him to fall back on the mattress.
Her fingers tiptoed along his sides and with her forehead she tipped his head back, exposing his neck, and she nibbled along the throat, causing Freddie to gasp. She stopped, and suddenly sucked on his skin, tenderly, her teeth grazing his skin ever so lightly.
She then turned her head and Freddie gasped as she sucked his earlobe in, tracing circles with her tongue, wetting the spot, only to draw back again and blow on it, making Freddie shiver.
Karen chuckled at Freddie who had started to gasp. Once again, she tipped back his head and dove in for a quick bite of his throat. She got up, swiftly walking over to the door again, turning once more before she left. ‘Happy birthday, Freds’.
And happy he was. Happy, and breathless and wondering if he could ever tell anyone about this.
…
Cook was his best mate. He was more like a brother, in fact. Only there were family secrets Freddie didn’t share with him; secrets that involved his sister.
So even when Cook started to rant on about how this girl was hot, or that, Freddie kept quiet about his own experiences with girls. Let Cook think he had never even kissed a girl…
Only there came the day when Cook came over to their house, like the millionth of time, and Karen came in from her dance practice, all sweaty and bright eyed, making Freddie wish Cook would just leave so he could slip into shower with her, watching her get all that glistering sweat off.
But Cook had no intention of leaving, of course. Instead, he was staring at Karen appreciatively, giving her a sly grin.
‘Oy, there, Karen! When did I miss you growing up like that!?
‘I’ve always been older than you, Cook. And I wish I could say the same to you. But you’re still the toddly tosser you used to be! Now, let me through!’
She flipped back her hair but Freddie saw a glimmer of triumph in her eyes, and the corner of her mouth was turned upwards, like the times dad would tell her how pretty she was. Freddie just knew what his sister looked like when she was flattered.
Freddie followed Cook’s eyes that trailed up Karen’s legs and backside as she strutted up the stairs. Cook had that smile; the smile he showed when he was planning on getting in a girl’s knickers.
‘Don’t even think about it’, Freddie growled to his own surprise.
Taken aback, Cook turned to him.
‘Come on, Freds. What’s it to you?’
Something clawed at his stomach and he felt ill. He clenched his fists to release the tension in his jaw.
‘Just don’t.’
When Cook laughed, Freddie gripped the other boy’s wrists tightly and pushed him towards the door. Cook didn’t laugh then, just shook his head and left.
As Freddie turned the knob of the shower, his heart fluttered when he noticed it wasn’t locked. Mum and dad weren’t home. It was only them.
The splashing sound of the water wasn’t what told him Karen was there. No, it was her body that he could see as she had left the curtains open, her gleaming soft caramel body; water languidly cascading down her back.
Freddie didn’t bother to strip. He only barely managed to pull off his shoes and then he stepped in with her, running his fingers through her dark hair, his hand sneaking to her front, gripping, holding her tightly against him.
For the first time he was touching her like this; cupping her tender breasts, sliding a leg between her naked thighs, murmuring in her neck.
‘Karen, Karen, Karen’
…
And then everything changed. And Cook had nothing to do with it- because it wasn’t really Cook’s fault that their mum died.
Whose fault was it, though?
Freddie wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he had started to resent himself for the fact that even more than missing his mum and missing how the family McLair had been when she was still alive, even more than all of this together he missed his sister.
But Karen didn’t seem to miss him very much. All she now cared for was her practice. All she now cared for was becoming famous. All she now cared for were rich old men that would grope her and tell her she looked beautiful.
Freddie hated her. But most of all he hated the fact that he was still laying in bed at night, wishing for the knob to turn, and Karen to enter.
Freddie hated how he didn’t think of other girls, didn’t care for other girls, even when his best friend acted like it was the only good thing in the world- shagging and eating pussy.
…
Then he met Effy and Effy wasn’t like the other girls. She was quiet. Silent. Freddie liked that. It was still better than the girls who would throw themselves at him. With Effy he didn’t get the feeling that she was very interested in him. She didn’t feel dangerous and Freddie figured it was time to just forget about his sister. Karen had her show Search for a sexxbomb; that was all she cared for, so all Freddie would now care for would be this Effy-girl.
But then things got complicated, because Freddie was wrong, Effy did care for him, but so did Cook for Effy and everything got so messed up when all Freddie had wanted was some peace and quiet. No more emotional bollocks.
But Effy wanted him and he couldn’t make it stop. To the outside it even seemed he liked her back, loved her even, but that was only because people couldn’t see through his pretense. They just had no clue that he had any reason to deceive. They didn’t have a sister like Karen.
Not even JJ who seemed to look behind people’s lies most of the times would never notice the way Freddie acted around Karen; the way he insulted her, as she insulted him, but not with his heart in it. Not JJ, not anyone else for that matter, saw Freddie shivering when Karen touched him accidentally.
Karen, of course, pretended nothing ever happened between them. Freddie tried to do the same but it made him angry. Who was she to make the rules? One day she wanted him, the other she didn’t?
Did she ever really want him?
…
...
Anger became one large feeling inside of Freddie. It came from deep down, was dark and hot but he never knew how to let it out. Smoking pot was one option. But it never really released the feeling, it just stuffed it down, deeper into his body, froze it over, but he could still feel it burning every time he looked at her. And Karen was still playing with him.
"Think I look hot?"
Freddie choked. How dare she?
"Don't be fucking twisted, you're my sister."
Karen turned away from him, calling out.
"Dad! Freddie says I look ugly."
She had a big pout on her face and his dad’s angry face already turned to him accusingly.
"Dad that isn't what I said, she’s talking bollocks."
"Tell your sister she looks sexy on the television. Go on!"
Like hell he would. He stared at his father angrily. How come he treated her like a princess and him like scum? Did she remind him of their mum? That sick bastard.
“Freddie! Tell her.”
There was a pause in which Freddie hoped he would just wake up and see it was all a dream. Both his sister and dad kept looking at him expectantly.
"You look sexy on the telly Karen."
…
It all sort of ended when he found out about her and Cook. White anger exploded behind his eyes and he as he went searching for her all he could think of was make her feel, make her feel what he felt - betrayal. He had tried his best to be a good brother to her. Even after the way she treated him. Now there would be no brother-sisterhood between them anymore.
“So, out of interest - what were you dreaming of when you fucked my best friend?!”
Karen didn’t even look at him.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Bet he fucked you good didn't he? I know your type Karen - 'love me, love me, love me!'”
Tears had started to well up in her eyes. She knew he was right but she would never admit it, Freddie knew that much.
And then all he wanted to do was kiss her; kiss those stupid pink lips of hers, these stupid lips she had taken away from him; kiss her with a force she would’ve never imagined of her little brother, her playmate, her object of exercise.
“How did it work out for you, Karen? Did he like what you did to his body!? Did he like what you did to my body!?”
She tried to get away from him but he was taller now, stronger, and all he could think was Who’s on top now, as his body already prepared to back her up against the wall of the stupid dance studio of hers, his fucking shed. She really thought she could take everything now, did she? But she couldn’t take away his memories, and neither hers and so it was Freddie just knew she would let him kiss her, kiss him back, make him forget about all the times she had denied him what was his.
“You whore…”
And then someone came in.
…
It was the first time their dad hit him.
…
It was late. Really late but Freddie had no idea how late exactly. He had been laying on his bed for hours now. The lights were off, Freddie hadn’t bothered to turn them on; hadn’t even bothered to lock his room. His dad could come and beat the shit out of him for all he cared.
Dried tears were prickling in the corners of his eyes and he didn’t even care enough to blink them away. He had given up.
So when the door opened, he didn’t turn around. When the mattress creaked from the weight lowered to it, he didn’t make a sound. When a soft hand crept its way to his side, resting there gently, he didn’t say anything.
And then the scent came crashing down on him; her scent, filling his nostrils and her mouth, so familiar, came down to his face, his bruised cheek.
“I’m sorry, Freds.”
Finally Golden.
...
A/N I haven’t been able to do a lot of research on the storyline while writing this one-shot and it’s been a while since I last saw Second Gen Skins, so please excuse any canonical inconsistencies. Oh, and I might have mixed up the times a bit. All together very much in need of beta, but I wrote this in a rush, so, sue me! :)
...Wherein Karen is a perfectionist and Freddie doesn’t resent her yet.
Title: First Times
Fandom: Skins (Gen2)
Pairing: Freddie/Karen, hints to canon Freddie/Effy
Rating: R
Warnings: incest, angst, sexual content
Words: 2400
Summary: There are some first times between Freddie and his sister no one would’ve have ever dreamed of.
A/N: This was written to fill the prompt Freddie/karen, you’re finally golden, boy by yourmyqueen that she posted in the Skins comment ficathon
...
The first time she came to him, she said she wanted to practice. Freddie had known nothing but to oblige. He had been younger then. With his eyes he had followed her moving to the door, had watched her as she turned the key carefully, had watched her as she turned round again, slowly walked up to him, proceeding to sit next to where he was sitting, on her bed full of pink and old stuffed teddies and dolls.
There she had leaned over his lap and turned the lamp at her bedside, and Freddie had wondered about that, not sure why she needed more light as her room was already brightly lit, showing all of her posters of this and that celebrity, people Freddie had no intention of getting to know.
But this wasn’t about them, anyways, this was about his sister who turned to face him, looking at him with dark eyes, nearly expectantly. You wanted this, Freddy thought, and maybe even voiced out because she scooted closer, a then newfound determination on her face and swiftly she leaned in, no warning, and kissed him full on the lips and all he could do is sit there and let her do it, and hope she wouldn’t stop anytime soon.
And she didn’t.
….
When it first had happened, Freddie himself hadn’t felt the desire to get intimate with girls yet, any girl really, let alone his sister. To be fair, he hadn’t fully hit puberty back then, he was only ten.
But Karen was older, two and a half years, and all she wanted was to be perfect in anything she did, and it so happened it should be sex now; sex and anything that came with it. Karen wasn’t stupid, she was smart, in fact, and she just knew that Skill Comes With Practice and so she went to whom else than Freddie, her little brother, really?
He was just perfect as a helpful bit of exercise.
And after a while of her coming to him, whispering, Come to my room after dinner, Freds, and the way her lips already brushed his ear when she said that, and how tender they felt, and the hair at the back of his neck stood up, after all of that he found himself laying in bed at night, hoping she’d come to him again, and again and again…
At first, it was only kisses; kisses on the mouth that made Freddie tingly all over. His hands grabbed the bed sheets at the sensation and once or twice he even held onto Karen, onto her soft pink t-shirt, or onto her slim caramel wrist.
It didn’t stay with kisses on the mouth, though. Karen wanted to master the art, and master she did. On his 12th birthday she smiled over to him mischievously as they all sat around the table, he blowing out the candles that stood proudly on top of their mother’s cake, one she had baked especially for him.
At noon, long after he had opened all his presents, and when his belly was stuffed with cake, she slipped into his room, wearing a short dress with shoulder straps, and in her eyes she had a gleam.
Freddie proceeded to get up from his bed but she pushed him down again, gently, as she leaned over him, causing him to fall back on the mattress.
Her fingers tiptoed along his sides and with her forehead she tipped his head back, exposing his neck, and she nibbled along the throat, causing Freddie to gasp. She stopped, and suddenly sucked on his skin, tenderly, her teeth grazing his skin ever so lightly.
She then turned her head and Freddie gasped as she sucked his earlobe in, tracing circles with her tongue, wetting the spot, only to draw back again and blow on it, making Freddie shiver.
Karen chuckled at Freddie who had started to gasp. Once again, she tipped back his head and dove in for a quick bite of his throat. She got up, swiftly walking over to the door again, turning once more before she left. ‘Happy birthday, Freds’.
And happy he was. Happy, and breathless and wondering if he could ever tell anyone about this.
…
Cook was his best mate. He was more like a brother, in fact. Only there were family secrets Freddie didn’t share with him; secrets that involved his sister.
So even when Cook started to rant on about how this girl was hot, or that, Freddie kept quiet about his own experiences with girls. Let Cook think he had never even kissed a girl…
Only there came the day when Cook came over to their house, like the millionth of time, and Karen came in from her dance practice, all sweaty and bright eyed, making Freddie wish Cook would just leave so he could slip into shower with her, watching her get all that glistering sweat off.
But Cook had no intention of leaving, of course. Instead, he was staring at Karen appreciatively, giving her a sly grin.
‘Oy, there, Karen! When did I miss you growing up like that!?
‘I’ve always been older than you, Cook. And I wish I could say the same to you. But you’re still the toddly tosser you used to be! Now, let me through!’
She flipped back her hair but Freddie saw a glimmer of triumph in her eyes, and the corner of her mouth was turned upwards, like the times dad would tell her how pretty she was. Freddie just knew what his sister looked like when she was flattered.
Freddie followed Cook’s eyes that trailed up Karen’s legs and backside as she strutted up the stairs. Cook had that smile; the smile he showed when he was planning on getting in a girl’s knickers.
‘Don’t even think about it’, Freddie growled to his own surprise.
Taken aback, Cook turned to him.
‘Come on, Freds. What’s it to you?’
Something clawed at his stomach and he felt ill. He clenched his fists to release the tension in his jaw.
‘Just don’t.’
When Cook laughed, Freddie gripped the other boy’s wrists tightly and pushed him towards the door. Cook didn’t laugh then, just shook his head and left.
As Freddie turned the knob of the shower, his heart fluttered when he noticed it wasn’t locked. Mum and dad weren’t home. It was only them.
The splashing sound of the water wasn’t what told him Karen was there. No, it was her body that he could see as she had left the curtains open, her gleaming soft caramel body; water languidly cascading down her back.
Freddie didn’t bother to strip. He only barely managed to pull off his shoes and then he stepped in with her, running his fingers through her dark hair, his hand sneaking to her front, gripping, holding her tightly against him.
For the first time he was touching her like this; cupping her tender breasts, sliding a leg between her naked thighs, murmuring in her neck.
‘Karen, Karen, Karen’
…
And then everything changed. And Cook had nothing to do with it- because it wasn’t really Cook’s fault that their mum died.
Whose fault was it, though?
Freddie wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he had started to resent himself for the fact that even more than missing his mum and missing how the family McLair had been when she was still alive, even more than all of this together he missed his sister.
But Karen didn’t seem to miss him very much. All she now cared for was her practice. All she now cared for was becoming famous. All she now cared for were rich old men that would grope her and tell her she looked beautiful.
Freddie hated her. But most of all he hated the fact that he was still laying in bed at night, wishing for the knob to turn, and Karen to enter.
Freddie hated how he didn’t think of other girls, didn’t care for other girls, even when his best friend acted like it was the only good thing in the world- shagging and eating pussy.
…
Then he met Effy and Effy wasn’t like the other girls. She was quiet. Silent. Freddie liked that. It was still better than the girls who would throw themselves at him. With Effy he didn’t get the feeling that she was very interested in him. She didn’t feel dangerous and Freddie figured it was time to just forget about his sister. Karen had her show Search for a sexxbomb; that was all she cared for, so all Freddie would now care for would be this Effy-girl.
But then things got complicated, because Freddie was wrong, Effy did care for him, but so did Cook for Effy and everything got so messed up when all Freddie had wanted was some peace and quiet. No more emotional bollocks.
But Effy wanted him and he couldn’t make it stop. To the outside it even seemed he liked her back, loved her even, but that was only because people couldn’t see through his pretense. They just had no clue that he had any reason to deceive. They didn’t have a sister like Karen.
Not even JJ who seemed to look behind people’s lies most of the times would never notice the way Freddie acted around Karen; the way he insulted her, as she insulted him, but not with his heart in it. Not JJ, not anyone else for that matter, saw Freddie shivering when Karen touched him accidentally.
Karen, of course, pretended nothing ever happened between them. Freddie tried to do the same but it made him angry. Who was she to make the rules? One day she wanted him, the other she didn’t?
Did she ever really want him?
…
...
Anger became one large feeling inside of Freddie. It came from deep down, was dark and hot but he never knew how to let it out. Smoking pot was one option. But it never really released the feeling, it just stuffed it down, deeper into his body, froze it over, but he could still feel it burning every time he looked at her. And Karen was still playing with him.
"Think I look hot?"
Freddie choked. How dare she?
"Don't be fucking twisted, you're my sister."
Karen turned away from him, calling out.
"Dad! Freddie says I look ugly."
She had a big pout on her face and his dad’s angry face already turned to him accusingly.
"Dad that isn't what I said, she’s talking bollocks."
"Tell your sister she looks sexy on the television. Go on!"
Like hell he would. He stared at his father angrily. How come he treated her like a princess and him like scum? Did she remind him of their mum? That sick bastard.
“Freddie! Tell her.”
There was a pause in which Freddie hoped he would just wake up and see it was all a dream. Both his sister and dad kept looking at him expectantly.
"You look sexy on the telly Karen."
…
It all sort of ended when he found out about her and Cook. White anger exploded behind his eyes and he as he went searching for her all he could think of was make her feel, make her feel what he felt - betrayal. He had tried his best to be a good brother to her. Even after the way she treated him. Now there would be no brother-sisterhood between them anymore.
“So, out of interest - what were you dreaming of when you fucked my best friend?!”
Karen didn’t even look at him.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Bet he fucked you good didn't he? I know your type Karen - 'love me, love me, love me!'”
Tears had started to well up in her eyes. She knew he was right but she would never admit it, Freddie knew that much.
And then all he wanted to do was kiss her; kiss those stupid pink lips of hers, these stupid lips she had taken away from him; kiss her with a force she would’ve never imagined of her little brother, her playmate, her object of exercise.
“How did it work out for you, Karen? Did he like what you did to his body!? Did he like what you did to my body!?”
She tried to get away from him but he was taller now, stronger, and all he could think was Who’s on top now, as his body already prepared to back her up against the wall of the stupid dance studio of hers, his fucking shed. She really thought she could take everything now, did she? But she couldn’t take away his memories, and neither hers and so it was Freddie just knew she would let him kiss her, kiss him back, make him forget about all the times she had denied him what was his.
“You whore…”
And then someone came in.
…
It was the first time their dad hit him.
…
It was late. Really late but Freddie had no idea how late exactly. He had been laying on his bed for hours now. The lights were off, Freddie hadn’t bothered to turn them on; hadn’t even bothered to lock his room. His dad could come and beat the shit out of him for all he cared.
Dried tears were prickling in the corners of his eyes and he didn’t even care enough to blink them away. He had given up.
So when the door opened, he didn’t turn around. When the mattress creaked from the weight lowered to it, he didn’t make a sound. When a soft hand crept its way to his side, resting there gently, he didn’t say anything.
And then the scent came crashing down on him; her scent, filling his nostrils and her mouth, so familiar, came down to his face, his bruised cheek.
“I’m sorry, Freds.”
Finally Golden.
...
A/N I haven’t been able to do a lot of research on the storyline while writing this one-shot and it’s been a while since I last saw Second Gen Skins, so please excuse any canonical inconsistencies. Oh, and I might have mixed up the times a bit. All together very much in need of beta, but I wrote this in a rush, so, sue me! :)