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#//Wouldn’t bank too much on there being a next time; is why he goes all out beforehand

eumppattv · 10 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐘𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐇

four 𖦹 why korean dispatch, why?

I walked up the stairs, making my way to the small coffee shop located on the third floor of the Music Bank building. At first I had been angry at Chaeryeong for setting up this “meeting” with Gunwook, but as the shop comes into view, and the smell of coffee and sweets seeps it’s way through my nose; I start to feel at ease. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, and from what I had seen that cursed day on Weekly Idol, Gunwook was a sweet guy.

My thoughts were interrupted as my name was called. “Y/n over here!”, I glanced in his direction, seeing him already sitting at a small table near the corner of the room. He was smiling, and I found his oddly cute. He kept signaling me to come sit down, and so I obeyed. If I had to meet with the guy whose fans bullied me, I would at least try and have a good time. Plus, we had to go onstage later in the day for awards, so I could take this as a chance to squash any awkwardness between us.

The next twenty minutes consisted of us talking about our rise to debut, and sharing our concerns for the future. I found the boy to be easy going, and extremely nice. Despite his bigger build, he was cute, and it made more sense when I found out we were the same age. While we talked and drank our coffee’s, I envied that he could have so much fun, while I had so much pressure from my company to deliver. He seemed at peace with his fame, and while he spoke about his tight schedule, his appearance remained relaxed.

“You know Gunwook” I took the last sip of my coffee before continuing, his full attention on me. “I wish I could be more like you. Free of responsibility, fun and just overall alive. It’s hard for me, with us being only four members. It means any mistake is highlighted. And of course you know how that goes for me”.

He stayed silent for a couple seconds, lost in thought before he gave me a serious look. “I’m honored you think I’m all those things. Not to burst your bubble but, I worry so much I think my head is going to explode. I worry that I get overshadowed by my members, or that I’m not talented enough to keep up with them. I worry that I’m not enough physically and that it will affect the opportunities I get. And I especially worried when you went through a rough time because of me. But I will say, I’ve had much more fun here with you then in the last couple months”.

Could he see my blush? God I hoped not. I looked away, suddenly interested in whatever was outside the window. He chuckled, leaning forward into the table. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I just meant I liked hanging out with you, and maybe we could do this again.” I dares to look back at him, feeling my heart beat faster and faster. He was charismatic, too charismatic. “I would love to. I’ll let you know when I’m free”. I returned his smile, still hoping my cheeks weren’t too red. As if on cue, my phone dinged showing a message from the members. “I guess it’s time to go back” he said, also looking down at his own device. “Yeah..” To be honest, I didn’t want to go just yet- but I would never admit that. Still, it was time to return to the real world, where I don’t get my way.

“So, where were you?” Yuqi asked, raising her eyebrows. “I went to the downstairs store to get a drink” I lied, trying hard to keep my composure. “Hmm okay. Our stylist is waiting in your dressing room, so be quick.” I let out a sigh of relief as she walked away, feeling proud of my lying skills.

As I walked into the room, I wondered if I would see Gunwook on stage. Would he acknowledge me? I hoped he would, but then again I knew he wouldn’t dare to after his scandal. What was I even saying? I needed to focus on my job, not some boy I just met. I didn’t even know him, I had to be realistic. I just need to get him out of my mind, and get through the night.

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 | 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭୧ ‧₊˚

> 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (closed) ꒰ bold cant be tagged

@avocarua @annoyingbitch83 @sunlisstuff @haesunflower @wonyofanclub @pansies-garden @crazyflowerpizza @sparklingsjy @partiallyderived @mgumii @rosabella1009 @haechan-nahceah @bobariki @tzuberry dumb-@cxm-slxt @chaeryvips @ilovechanhee @saintriots @aesthetic-aryavartik @nichoswag @missuszabini @koalajjun

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ eumppattv #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ theinkigayosandwich #zb1 smau #park gunwook #zb1 scenarios #park gunwook smau #zb1 gunwook #zb1 x reader #zb1 #park gunwook x reader

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hollywoodxwhore · 1 year

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Mine | Chapter One

Colson x Original Female Character

A new series for y'all because this man has me on my kneeeeees. No idea how many parts it's going to be.

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Chapter One Warnings/Content: swearing, a little bit of smut, col being a cocky fucker

Hope y'all enjoy! I've had so much fun writing this.

Presley

I have a confession to make.

I was a Machine Gun Kelly hater back in the day.

It’s true. I believed everything the media said, and why would I have challenged it? From what I knew, his music sucked. He was a total asshole. He was a womanizer. He was a poser who switched genres.

Looking back, I’m ashamed of myself for being a follower. I wasted a lot of time judging someone I didn’t know.

I would probably still be a hater if it wasn’t for my twin brother, Cash.

Cash and I were raised by music-loving parents (if you couldn’t tell by our names). We grew up playing instruments and going to shows. Cash and I got our first tattoos on our 16th birthday, and by the time we were 19, I already had a full sleeve and Cash had a neck tat. We’ve continued to collect ink ever since, and now that we’re 23, we’re both pretty covered.

We have an impressive collection of piercings, too. We both have our nostrils pierced, though he wears two rings and I wear a stud because of my septum piercing. Cash’s lip is pierced and both of our ears are full of piercings. I have my belly button and nipples. It’s been fun growing up with such accepting parents.

We’ve both spent lots of time pursuing art in some way or another. I play guitar and sing in a few local bands, but it’s nothing serious. I prefer body art, and that’s why I’m a piercer. I pierce at a tattoo shop in the city and make bank. People in this hipster city love their piercings.

Cash and I are best friends. We run in the same friend group and spend a lot of time together. We had our rows as kids, but we’ve always gotten along and been super close. So when he got the opportunity of a lifetime, I was hugely supportive, even though it broke me knowing I wouldn’t be able to see him every day anymore.

About six months ago, someone reached out to Cash through his Instagram. He has tons of followers and he’s a super talented guitarist. The guy who messaged Cash happened to be none other than Machine Gun Kelly himself. He wanted Cash to be a part of their band and tour with them.

We were sure it was a hoax, even though it was his official account messaging Cash. We thought it was too good to be true until Colson — MGK’s real name, by the way — passed Cash’s number to his management, and the very next day, Cash had a Zoom meeting set up to meet with Colson and management.

Cash was so serious about it that he wouldn’t let me sit in on the meeting, no matter how silent I promised to be and no matter how many times I assured him that I wouldn’t be on camera. I had to settle for listening through the door. I couldn’t hear much, but I knew it was a positive meeting.

13 days later, Cash packed his stuff and flew to LA to meet up with the band. The band itself is called Machine Gun Kelly, even though the lead singer/rapper goes by that name. It doesn’t make much sense to me, but whatever.

As soon as Cash was gone and I found myself lonely as hell, I decided to check out MGK’s music. The longer I sat and listened, the more pissed off I became with myself for having deprived myself of such good music for so long. I started with Tickets to My Downfall and then got hooked on Hotel Diablo. I ventured to Bloom, Lace Up, General Admission, and then onto songs you could only find on YouTube.

Bottom line: I was obsessed.

Well, let’s not get dramatic. I fell in love with the music and developed a crush on the very man I’d hated just a month before. And I felt like an asshole for it. I still do.

I miss Cash a ton. But his life is amazing now. He’s traveling with a hugely famous band, gaining followers every single show, and better yet, he gets along with the guys great. There’s Colson, of course, and then Rook, the drummer. Baze plays the bass and Slim does a lot of keyboard and sound stuff. Justin plays guitar alongside Cash, and Colson plays, too. They party a ton, but they also go out to eat, take trips together, and hang out constantly. I’ve never heard Cash so happy when we talk on the phone.

I’ve had a shitty day. Clients were dicks, especially the guy who wanted a Prince Albert and got a little excited during the piercing process. If that wasn’t bad enough, he hit on me before one of my tattoo artists came in and dragged him out of the shop. The encounter left me feeling shaky, and by the time I get into my apartment, my hands are a trembling mess.

I sigh and toss my keys into their designated bowl, then kick off my Doc Martens, trudging to the kitchen. I grab a Mountain Dew from the fridge and find my weed pen on the counter, taking a long pull until I cough out a huge puff. I’ll feel better very soon.

After changing into comfortable clothes and washing off my makeup, my black hair tossed into a bun, I curl up on the couch with a stupid scary movie. Almost immediately, my phone lights up with a FaceTime from Cash.

I answer the call and there’s his grinning face. I don’t think we look much alike. I have my mom’s raven hair and he has our dad’s blonde curls that he wears long on top and short on the sides and in back. My jade green eyes are the opposite of his chocolaty brown ones, so dark they’re almost black. We do have the same dimples, though.

“Hey, Cash,” I greet.

“Pres!” He says happily, and I can’t help but smile. “You good, sis?”

I shrug, smiling weakly. “Rough day at work.”

Normally he’d ask, but he’s clearly not calling to chat. He has news. I can see the excitement all over his face. “Fuck that,” he says. “Can you take some time off?”

My brow arches. “For what?”

“I want you to come visit!” He says. “Ride on the tour bus with us. Come to a few shows. I miss you and everyone wants to meet you.”

My stomach flips. “Wait, seriously?” I ask warily. “The band and management are okay with this?”

“Kells suggested it!” Cash replies, eyes wide with joy. Kells — MGK, Colson. A man of many names, apparently.

I’m still skeptical. “I don’t want to impose,” I say. I’m not fun enough to hang with them. It may appear that way based on my career and the fact that I play live music, but I’m boring. All I want to do is smoke weed and maybe go out to eat. I don’t really like to drink and big crowds make me anxious.

“You wouldn’t, I swear,” Cash continues, still trying to convince me.

“Cash…” I bite down on my lip. “I don’t know.”

Cash turns his head and talks to someone but I miss what he says. My brow furrows, and then the phone is being passed. I swear to god I stop breathing when my brother’s face disappears and Colson’s takes its place.

God. This man has no business being as hot as he is. His bone structure is unreal. In another life, he could be a successful model. He’s got the height and the body for it. Covered in tattoos and piercings, he matches my vibe. His hair is bleach blonde and messy, currently, so long it almost covers his eyes until he flicks it away and pushes it back, rings glinting on his long fingers. Christ.

“Hey, Presley,” he greets like we’re old friends.”

“Um, hi,” I say after a moment. How could Cash just throw me onto FaceTime with Colson fucking Baker?! Cash doesn’t know about my crush, but still, he’s a big celebrity. I needed more time to prepare.

“What Cash isn’t saying is that it’s non-negotiable. You’re coming,” he says casually. “We’re going to be in Detroit next Saturday and you can just join us then.”

“My job—”

“Cash already told me it’s easy for you to take time off,” Colson interrupts. Dammit, Cash.

“Well, tell Cash that not all of us are famous rockstars like he is and that some of us still have rent to pay,” I say, loud enough for Cash to hear.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Colson says. “Cash already paid for your next three months’ rent.”

I blink. “Cash David Carver,” I say, tone clipped. “What the hell?”

Cash’s face pops in as he throws an arm around Colson’s shoulders with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Gotta take care of my little sister,” he explains.

“You’re 12 minutes older than me,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Still,” Cash says annoyingly. “Come on, Pres, come see me.”

I sigh. I don’t have to worry about rent for three months. Cash was right, it’s easy to take time off. It means the other piercer gets way more hours and makes more money. I’ve been there for long enough that I can do pretty much whatever I want. I chew on my lip.

“Fine,” I say, and Cash cheers. Colson smiles, and fuck, what an adorable smile. Crinkly eyes and all.

“We’ll see you next Saturday,” Cash says. “Maybe get a friend to drive you. We’ll get you both backstage passes and tickets for the show.”

Holy hell.

“Okay,” I say, head still spinning. I can’t even believe this is real.

“Alright, we gotta go. Love you, Pres,” Cash says.

“Looking forward to meeting you,” Colson says.

“Yeah, me too,” I say. “Love you, too, Cashy. See you soon.”

The FaceTime ends and I’m left sitting on my couch, knowing that in less than two weeks, I’ll be riding on Machine Gun Kelly’s tour bus. I’ll be at shows. It occurs to me that my wardrobe is not good for the paparazzi pictures in which I very well may appear.

I need to go shopping.

I need to mentally prepare.

Somehow.

Colson

“Daddy!” Her voice is almost a shriek and I smirk around the gum in my mouth as I go harder, bringing a hand down onto her ass as I do. God, she sounds like a fucking pornstar, the way she’s moaning and crying over my dick. I’m sure some of it is for show, but the way she’s clenching ain’t fake.

“Fuck,” I mutter lowly, grabbing her hips for leverage as I fuck her harder, feeling myself start to get close.

“Oh fuck, Kells!” Her back arches and her pussy seizes me as she comes, ass pressing back. Feeling her lose it gets me, too, and with a curse, I come, too.

Once I catch my breath, I pull out and get rid of the condom. Panting, she pulls her panties back up and shoves her skirt down. She tries to fix her hair, but it’s a damn mess, and there’s mascara smeared on her cheek and her lipstick is pretty much everywhere but her lips. It’s definitely on my dick, that I know for sure.

I button my jeans and smirk at her, reaching a hand out to help her up. She smiles shyly and I lead the way out of my bunk and into the main space of the tour bus.

“We gotta take off soon,” I explain, bending to kiss her cheek. “It’s been fun, Sabrina.”

Her blonde brows furrow. “Savannah,” she says flatly.

“Shit. Sorry,” I say, giving her my brightest smile. It works. She smiles, too, batting her eyelashes.

“Goodnight, Kells,” she says, fluttering her fingers in a wave as she steps off the bus.

“Goddamn, aren’t you tired?” I turn around to see Cash and Rook on the couch, grinning proudly. Cash’s question has me considering.

“Yeah. I am,” I admit, reaching into the mini fridge for a bottle of water. I plop into one of the cushy chairs and prop my feet on the table. “That’s life, though, boys.”

Rook snorts and Cash smirks as he takes a sip of his beer. I love the kid. I’m glad he’s on tour with us. He’s fucking sick on the guitar and he gets along great with all of us. He’s always down for a good time and he’s a great wingman. I think it’s those damn dimples and the curly blonde hair.

My mind flashes to Cash’s twin sister, Presley. From what I’ve seen in pictures, she looks nothing like Cash. Her hair is black and her eyes are a piercing green. She’s tatted and pierced like him, and though she’s not as tall as he is at 6’2”, she still has legs that go on for miles. She’s hot as fuck, and I’m excited she’s going to be joining the tour for a bit.

As if Cash is reading my mind, he brings her up. “I can’t wait for Pres to join us. She’s my best fucking friend, man.”

“I can’t imagine having a sister,” I say. “Especially a twin.”

“Is that telepathy shit legit?” Rook asks between puffs off a joint.

Cash plucks the joint from his fingers and takes a long drag before passing it to me. The smoke is sweet as it fills my lungs, and I follow up the first hit with another until my head tingles.

“Yeah,” he admits, nodding. “I got in a car crash when we were in high school. Broke my leg and needed stitches in my forehead. Presley had no idea but she left school with a raging headache and a limp.”

“No fucking way,” I say. “Seriously?”

“It’s crazy,” he says. “That’s kind of why I’m glad she’s coming. I can tell she’s not doing so hot.”

I frown, not liking the way his words make my stomach hurt a little. I don’t even know this chick. I shouldn’t really care. But she’s my friend’s sister, so I guess it makes sense. “What’s wrong? Shitty boyfriend?” I ask.

Cash barks such a loud laugh that Rook and I both freeze, looking at him like he’s crazy. “Sorry,” he says, chuckling and shaking his head. “Pres has never had a boyfriend.”

“How?” I blurt before I can stop myself. I clear my throat. “I mean, she’s hot. Respectfully,” I add.

Cash chuckles. “Guys want her. They’re all over her,” he says, and I notice the way his hand tightens protectively on the armrest. “She doesn’t want any of them. We tell each other everything, but she doesn’t date. Dunno why.”

“Hm,” I reply. Interesting. I don’t date either, but I do fuck. Maybe his sister is the same way. Good news for me, if so.

“So on that note,” Cash says. “She’s off limits. No hitting on my sister.”

I’m visibly disappointed and Cash narrows his eyes at me. “I mean it, Kells.”

I hold up my hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Loud and clear.”

“But what if she hits on me first,” Rook asks, and when Cash swats him, he cackles.

I sit back in the chair and take another drag off the joint. What’s the point of Cash’s sexy ass sister coming on tour if I can’t touch her? I have a feeling she’s even hotter in person. Oh well. I’ll have to deal with it. Cash is my boy and I’ll respect his wishes.

It might be a little cocky to think she’d want me back if I made a move, but I haven’t been rejected since high school. It doesn’t happen when you’re at the place I am. Hell, I don’t even have to ask anymore. Girls, quite literally, throw themselves at me, along with their panties, bras, and even a vibrator one time. That was an interesting show. Funny as fuck watching Reed pluck it off the stage.

I hear what Cash says, but there’s some weight to what Rook said, too. What if she wants me? Am I expected to reject her? Shit, I won’t be doing that. We’ll just have to see what happens.

Our Detroit show comes on fast. It’s been a crazy week, and to be honest, I haven’t been thinking about Cash’s sister at all. There are plenty of other girls to keep me occupied.

So when I’m backstage smoking a joint and Cash walks back with a couple of girls, I’m intrigued. I get up from the chair I’m in, but as I get closer, I recognize her. Cash’s sister. And fuck if she doesn’t take my breath away, as stupid as that sounds.

Because holy shit. When I say Presley Carver is the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen, I’m not lying. Pictures don’t do this girl justice, and her pictures are pretty damn hot. There are those gorgeous legs beneath a short leather skirt. A tiny sliver of tanned stomach is visible beneath her shirt, a simple t-shirt tied in a knot at the bottom. Black, leather boots with a heel, making those legs even longer. Her hair is left down and straight, and I can see the green of her eyes from twenty feet away.

I basically tuck my tongue back into my mouth before snuffing the joint out and going over to say hi like a gentleman. The three of them are chatting with Ashleigh and Olivia, but Presley looks up as I come over, and for the few seconds that our eyes are locked on one another, I feel a bolt of electricity shock through me. She blinks and looks away, but there’s a little smirk on her face.

“Cash, gonna introduce me?” I ask, putting a hand to Cash’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Kells, this is my sister, Presley,” he says.

“Nice to meet you,” Presley says, holding out a hand.

I smirk and step forward to hug her instead. “Nah, fuck that, we hug around here,” I say, noticing the way her head tucks into my neck, inhaling the smell radiating from her hair — something sweet and sugary. She smells like fucking candy and for a second, I can’t help but wonder what she tastes like.

As I pull away, Cash gives me a warning glance, but I just smile. “And this is her friend, Sadie.”

“Hi Sadie,” I say, hugging her as well. She’s cute, but she isn’t Presley Carver. No one is.

“Thanks again for being so generous,” Presley says. God, her voice is hot, too. Sultry and low, slightly raspy. She sounds like she’d be one hell of a singer.

“No problem,” I say. “Make yourselves at home.” I need to finish my joint and take a piss before I get out onstage, and as much as I want to stay here and stare, I have shit to do. I wave and walk away. I glance over my shoulder after a few seconds and catch Presley staring. She jumps a little and immediately focuses on what Cash is saying, but she looks flustered. I notice the shape of her long black nails as she tucks her hair behind her ear and I shiver. Focus, Colson. You have a show to do.

But somehow knowing Presley is watching makes me go harder. Makes me take my shirt off and put on a good show of thrusting at my guitar. I drag my fingers down my body, grab my cock over my pants. Old Colson is coming out. The kid who used to suck tits onstage. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him. He was fun. I stopped acting that way when I met…never mind.

I like that this girl is making me find my old self onstage. I completely give into it, and it’s my best show of the entire tour. Detroit is lucky Presley Carver is in their presence.

After the show, I chug a full bottle of water, accepting daps and high fives and hugs backstage. I hate how my eyes are searching for her. Cash was very clear — hands off his sister. Which is such a dick move. Has he seen his sister? I mean, I know that’s his sister but he’s not blind. Right?

“Great show.” I jump a little when I hear that slightly raspy voice behind me, and when I turn around, my breath hitches. She looks even better a little sweaty from the show, black hair slightly mussed up.

I clear my throat and put on a smirk to hide how flustered this girl has me. “Thanks. You had fun?”

“Oh, yeah,” she says, her eyes bright. “You guys put on a good show.”

I mop my face with my sweaty t-shirt and flick my hair out of my eyes. “Did you sing along to any songs?” I ask, my not-so-subtle way of figuring out whether or not she knows our music.

Her grin is a little sly. “Maybe,” she says with a little shrug.

My brow arches. “C’mon, you’re gonna leave a guy hanging?” I ask. I really want to know if she actually likes my music.

“Pres, quit acting mysterious,” Cash says when he steps up beside me, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “She listens to your shit. She knows all the words.”

“Cash!” Presley hisses, giving him a look.

“What?” Cash blanches. “It’s true!” He turns to me. “As soon as I joined y’all she started listening.”

“So you didn’t listen before we kidnapped Cash?” I ask. For some reason, I like that she hasn’t always been a fan.

She shrugs. “Not really.” Now she looks a little sheepish. “I was missing out, though.”

“You should've heard the shit she said about you when Killshot came out,” Cash adds, and when Presley stomps on his toe, he yelps. “Ow, what the fuck!”

“Cash, you’re such a dick,” she groans. She looks up at me and smiles weakly. “He’s exaggerating.”

I’m amused as fuck. All I can do is laugh. I don’t give a fuck whose side she was on when that all went down. She’s backstage at my show now, and I saw the way she looked at me earlier. She’s into me. There’s no way she’s not.

“I’m gonna go find a bathroom,” Presley mutters, shooting one last glare at Cash before she turns on her heel and stomps away. And maybe my eyes fall on her ass, the way her waist curves out into smooth hips. Cash elbows me, and now it’s my turn to yelp.

“C’mon, I was just looking!” I insist.

“Yeah, looking at my sister like you want to fuck her,” Cash says, but he’s still grinning a little. The smile fades and he clears his throat. “Look. She’s a good girl.”

A quick burst of irritation blooms in my chest. “Are you saying I’m a bad guy?”

“No!” Cash insists, eyes widening. “Not at all. She just…she’s different, Kells. And she’s my sister. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of her.”

“Taking advantage?” I blurt in outrage.

“No, Kells I — fuck.” Cash tears his hands through his messy hair. “Please.”

I sigh, the fight going out of me, and nod. “I won’t do anything,” I mutter.

“You promise?” The kid asks.

I have half a mind to make fun of him for the juvenile ass question, but I just nod. “Promise,” I sigh. Cash relaxes after that and he claps me on the back before jogging away to find some of the other guys.

I’m annoyed now. I want a shower and something to eat. And my dick is a little bit hard in my jeans. I shift and then walk stiffly outside to the tour bus.

Sure enough, a group of girls squeals when I come outside. They’re hanging near the tour bus and I quickly scan the group for the hottest one. There’s a cute brunette and I decide she’s the one. I approach the fence and reach for her hand. Her eyes twinkle.

“You busy right now?” I ask.

She looks to her friend whose eyes are bugging out of her head. “Nope,” she says.

I smirk. This will be a good distraction. Just what I need.

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rzrgull · 2 years

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❝ ⸻ they’ll take me dead if they ever take me.

roan wensink , he/they — grifter + surviving razorgull .

a forgotten sibling, banking on being underestimated ; lips that simply think lies taste sweeter, letting them spill and paint the world in a brighter color ; a patchwork persona, desperately crafted — rings on every finger and cheap cologne, battered playing cards and the too loud ticking of a stolen watch — in the attempt to undo an old mistake.

amicable, clever, and eloquent — paranoid, dishonest, and ostentatious

the second child of bram and marit, roan is born in ketterdam. despite being acceptable parents, the two will fail to connect well with their children. even now, despite bram and marit likely still living in the same apartment they did when roan was born, he thinks of only kacper, rotting in a cell somewhere, as his family. they didn't do anything wrong, the siren song of the city simply called louder.

at only six, roan is brought into his brother's schemes. people take pity on children, especially young ones with sob stories. with the way the city is, it was easy to convince marks that they were orphans, in need of coin to find a meal. kacper would take the money to a gambling club. sometimes he would double their earnings and they would celebrate. others he would lose it all, and roan learned not to ask questions.

roan figures out the hard way why his brother is so careful about where he runs his cons. getting caught in dime lion territory leaves him with a black eye, a number of scrapes, and a reminder that he was handled lightly given his age. kacper cleans his wounds and tells him he's lucky. it could have been worse or the stadwatch. roan learns that bruises and blood are preferable to jail time, but decides he'd like to avoid both if he can.

kacper doesn’t take his own advice.

kacper never comes home one night and roan doesn't think much of it. however, when he's still missing the next day, nerves begin to rise. it takes two weeks to piece everything together, and even then all he really knows is that there was a job, his brother was involved, and it did not go well. his stomach turns when he realizes how much his brother likely left him out of. all the answers point to him being sold out, and roan starts picking at the threads, getting closer.

every spool goes up in flames and roan’s search is left fruitless. they’re lost, a walking ghost of what they once were.

—

roan is quite good at what they do. they're a confidence man, and they make others feel confident; confident enough to trust them when they really shouldn't. but why wouldn't you? an amicable young man who feels like he could be your little brother. yet, it's partially a rouse. it's easier to trust someone who appears to be foolish; you assume you can trick them, so you don't observe them with as much scrutiny. everything is carefully curated. even the clumsy way they appear to dress, nice pieces that don't quite match, as if they're playing at being something their better. trust them. what do you have to lose?

kacper was the only other teacher besides the city itself that roan knew. while the library of cons they run has expanded somewhat since kacper ... left, most are variations on the original set that their older brother taught them.

a conman would be nothing without the lies they tell. thankfully, roan is very good at appearing sincere. not only sincere, but playful, welcoming, warm. they make people want to trust them. the hard part is finding where the line is when the marks leave the room. what's left when you take away the pieced together persona they've created?

while it's not they're usual modus operandi — they prefer to convince you to hand them your watch, rather than take it — roan maintains some slight of hand skills. at the very least, it makes for an amusing party trick. watch the card disappear. pay no attention to my compatriot who will likely strip your pockets clean while you're distracted.

roan made a promise to themselves that they would never be the last person to have information again, and for the most part they've kept their word. they're a good listener. it's not that they make other people want to share their secrets, but often they're comfortable enough they don't realize they're doing it. even scraps of secrets can be worth something in the barrel, especially if you keep putting them together.

#ketterdam.intro

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rcreveal · 7 months

Text

Unintended Consequences: Edinburgh 1827

Edinburgh 1827

The morning after Crowley had tried to help Elspeth and been recalled to Hell, Aziraphale had ‘looked’ for him, but couldn't find any sign of him on Earth. 'I hope he doesn't get into too much trouble,' thought Aziraphale, a bit worried. Aziraphale had already had something of a soft spot for Edinburgh and now he was determined to make it a truly exemplary place in memory of the demon's good deed. Giving Elspeth money and Crowley extracting her promise to be good, well that seemed a simple enough start.

Azriaphale was walking in the sunshine on High Street enjoying the town and the dapper clothing of the era when he felt the inquiring fingers of a pickpocket. Usually, he just miracled the money back into his pocket and an instructive pamphlet into the miscreant's. The angel was surprised to find that money, quite a lot of it, and quite familiar money, had just been put into his pocket. So instead of letting the pickpocket blend into the crowd, he followed them. Eventually, Aziraphale found himself in a familiar alleyway, no better for the light of day.

"Why'd ya follow me!" Elspeth asked angrily.

"You gave it all back! Why? I thought you needed m…" Aziraphale stops talking with Elspeth's hand clamped over his mouth.

"Not here, ya great idjit!" and Elspeth scurries out of the alley with a confused Aziraphale following. Eventually, despite her best efforts to shake the angel off her trail, Elspeth finally stops in a city park, “I suppose you’re just going to follow me until I talk or I drop.”

Aziraphale tilts his head at her, eyebrows raised, lips compressed.

"At least let me polish your boots so we don't attract any more attention!" hisses Elspeth, saying more loudly, “Polish your shoes, mister?”

Aziraphale sits on a nearby bench while Elspeth pulls out a boot polish kit and sets to work.

"Elspeth, why did you give all the money back? I thought you needed money so you could get off the streets!" whispers Aziraphale.

Elspeth sighs, "It's too much! I can't spend it anywhere! It's like I've got a giant target on me back. Either someone will rob me or kill me for it or bring me up to the magistrates for thieving then I'll hang! Take it back!"

Aziraphale is taken back. "Well, you could keep it in a bank…"

"No one is going to let street trash like me in a bank, much less…"

"You are not trash, Elspeth," said Aziraphale firmly, "you are just as worthy of grace as any noble or priest."

Elspeth gawped at him. "You are the oddest sassenach I've ever met. Nobody thinks someone like me can amount to anything!"

"I do," Aziraphale said earnestly while Elspeth returned to shining his other shoe. "I'm sorry, Elspeth, I didn't understand. What do you want? If I can help you, I will."

He gives Elspeth time to think it over and she goes over his shoes several times.

"Enough money for a clean room with board for a month," asks Elspeth, hand out after finishing the polish.

Aziraphale puts money into her hand, taking some back at her terse head shake and growling, "Too much!"

Looking at her wanly but hopefully, Aziraphale remarks, "I walk along St Andrews Square most afternoons. Please come and talk with me when you have more plans."

Elspeth nodded tersely and disappeared into the city.

Aziraphale then proceeded to the bank, depositing the money that Crowley had asked him to give to Elspeth, putting it in trust for his 'niece' and finding that being a female was another barrier for Elspeth. If she married, she wouldn’t even own herself. Over the next few days, during Crowley's continued absence, Aziraphale looked at those who were using the bank and those that weren't. He studied the passage of money in the upper and lower classes. Chagrined, he waited for Elspeth and Crowely to return.

After a few days of walking in St Andrews Square, Aziraphale hears Elspeth’s voice again.

“Shine your shoes, mister?”

Turning at Elspeth’s voice, Aziraphale says, “Certainly, young man!” overly jovially, then stares in disbelief.

Elspeth looks even more haggard than before as she kneels to shine his shoes.

“Elspeth! Whatever happened to you?” he says in concern.

Seeming to ignore his question, Elspeth says, “I can’t figure out if ye’re devils or angels,” bending over his shoes. “Ye’re not Fair Folk. I saw ye handle iron and go into that little chapel. Though that other fellow could certainly drink like a pictsie. Ye talk a fair bit about good and evil. Ye look like an angel, but ye’re the reason Wee Morag died. She wouldn’t have been in the graveyard if ye hadn’t messed with that first body. An’ that other one looked like a devil, but he was the one tryin’ to help me out. But, whatever ye are, ye’ve laid me under a geas.” Looking up into Aziraphale’s eyes she pleads, “Tell me what I’ve got to do to get out of it!”

Aziraphale sat on the bench listening attentively, wincing at her condemnation, then he looked at her head oddly, “A geese? I don’t see any geese here.”

“A geas! A magical binding agreement. I promised to be ‘good, not pretendy good’ and now I can’t make a living!” retorts Elspeth irritably.

Aziraphale looks more closely at the girl and sees the traces of something on her.

“What happens when you’re not good?” he asks curiously.

Humphing, Elspeth says, “It feels like there’s a scale inside me tipping one way or another. An’ if it’s tipping towards ‘bad’ I feel all nervous and awful. But if I do good, I feel peaceful.”

Aziraphale smiles beautifically, “Well, that doesn’t sound so…”

“Don’t ye say ‘bad’! Do ye ken what it takes to keep body and soul together in this town?” Elspeth snaps. “I thought if I gave ye the money back, it would break the geas, but it hasna!”

Aziraphale looks concerned, “I’ve been thinking about that, what it takes to survive here. I was wondering if I could hire you? As a housemaid,” Elspeth’s eyes flash, and Aziraphale holds up his hands, “or houseboy, if you like. You’d be able to have a roof over your head, and food. I’d be able to learn more about how to help. Surely…”

“I’m not your pet and I don’t want to be your project! I just want this thing offa me!” Elspeth furiously polishes his boots. Then, shoulders sagging, she says, “Come with me to Mistress Hempstock. She’s got the knowin’ of these things. Give me a head start then follow me,” she plucks the money out of his outstretched hand. “I know ye can,” and throwing that sarcastic remark over her shoulder, Elspeth headed off.

After sitting in thought for a while, Aziraphale follows the girl through New Town Edinburgh into Old Town. The open thoroughfares and salubrious streets of New Town give way to smaller streets treacherous with waste from pigs and people. Down a little side alley he finds a mullioned window with “Hempstock Apothecary” on a sign above the doorway. Doffing his top hat, Aziraphale ducks under the doorway with it's protective horseshoe and steps down into a dimly lit shop. Then he stops, hat in hand as his eyes adjust, taking care to stand very, very still.

“Nay, Elspeth, that one isna a devil. He’s an angel. He’s not holding the geas, either,” a middle aged woman crosses her arms while looking Aziraphale up and down critically.

Holding up one finger, but standing as though he is on top of a tall pole, Aziraphale smiles, “Yes, good lady, I am an angel. So there’s no need for this contraption,” he waves at the glyphs ringing him about.

“That’s as may be, but first I’d like to hear some explanation as to how young Elspeth found herself in this predicament! Your name, please, sir?” requests Mistress Hempstock.

“Aziraphale, Principality, former Guardian of the Eastern Gate,” he looks surprised at his own mouth.

“And what did that other one think he was doing?” she asks sternly

“He was only trying to help!” says Aziraphale, looking like he’s being buffeted by invisible winds.

“Who, now?” asks Mistress Hempstock.

“Crowley! He just wanted Elspeth to live and have a chance to go to Heaven, instead of Hell,” Aziraphale says as though the words are being drawn from him.

Mistress Hempstock looks at Elspeth, “That’s the other fellow, then?” Elspeth nods.

“And where is this Crowley then? Scampered off to Heaven after his wee guid deed?” Mistress Hempstock asks scornfully.

Looking very uncomfortable, failing to fight the compulsion, Aziraphale says, “No, he got recalled to Hell! I’m afraid he got into quite a lot of trouble for that kind act! I say, this is quite unnecessary!”

“So, if he’s not an angel, what is Crowley?” asks Mistress Hempstock.

“A demon! Crowley’s a demon! Please, will you let me out now?” Aziraphale is balancing precariously.

“It doesn’t feel nice to be compelled, does it, mister angel? Your word that ye won’t smite us when I let you out?”

“Of course I won’t smite you! I’m an angel! You have my word! I only want to help Elspeth!” says Aziraphale.

Nodding in satisfaction, Mistress Hempstock, brushes aside a ring of salt.

“May I invite you to tea, Mr. Aziraphale?” and Mistress Hempstock sweeps back to a little table laid with a lovely afternoon tea.

Rumpled, wind-swept, and a little irked, Aziraphale, nevertheless, can forgive a lot in the face of an excellent tea.

After their tea, Aziraphale sits with the two humans, discussing Elspeth’s problem, “It’s not that I’m asking to do bad, I mean to keep my word! It’s just that I don’t like being forced to do good,” says Elspeth. “Especially when doin’ good means I’ll starve.”

“But, Elspeth, I don’t know when Crowley will return! I don’t know how long Hell will punish him,” replies Aziraphale earnestly.

“You can see that the geas is a burden for Elspeth, tho’,” says Mistress Hempstock.

“Certainly, I do! It’s not the kind of thing Crowley would do, intentionally…”

“Bein’ off his head on laudanum to keep me from drinkin’ poison probably didn’t do wonders for clear thinking,” admits Elspeth, whose clear thinking has been improved by a good meal. Looking over at Mistress Hempstock, she sighs, “an’ I guess I’m grateful for that.”

Mistress Hempstock has been using the time to study Elspeth’s geas and the angel. “Ye accepted the geas, Elspeth, willingly, whether ye knew it or not. I see that it wouldna have settled on ye otherwise. But, I think Mr Aziraphale might be able to ease it, a bit.”

Aziraphale reaches out towards Elspeth, testing the geas gently. “The scale inside wasn’t something that Crowley put there, Elspeth. It’s in every human. That’s how we know whether you go to Heaven or Hell when you die.” Mistress Hempstock looks like she is reserving some choice words but only shares a raised eyebrow with Elspeth.

Aziraphale misses the look while studying Elspeth, “I really don’t think Crowley meant to hinder you, Elspeth. The laudanum was making him rather erratic. But your awareness of the scale inside gives you the best chance of avoiding Hell,” looking up at the women, Aziraphale considers. “I think I can ease the compunction to do good and the punishment if you do bad, but I won’t be able to erase the awareness of the scale. Do you want me to try?”

Elspeth sits in thought and looks at Mistress Hempstock for guidance.

“Elspeth, I think it’ll be enough,” agrees Mistress Hempstock.

Elspeth considers then looks Aziraphale in the eye, “Alright. I can live with that. Go ahead and try.”

After Mistress Hempstock had made a few preparations of her own, Aziraphale invited Elspeth to sit on a stool inside a different circle of glyphs. Mistress Hempstock stood outside.

“Elspeth, please take my hand” Aziraphale directs, offering his. Holding Elspeth’s hand gently, he takes a steadying breath and makes a complicated little gesture. A veil seems to waver on Elspeth and settle again, “Well, did it work?” he asks hopefully.

Elspeth stands up from the stool with a determined expression, “Let’s check.” Stomping on Aziraphale’s foot she cries, “That’s for messin’ about with me first body!” and now that his cheek is closer to her face she kisses him on it, “And that’s for listenin’ to me an’ trying to help.” Aziraphale, overbalancing between hopping on one foot and putting a hand to his cheek, sits heavily on the stool utterly bemused.

“Yes, those two deeds seemed to balance each other out nearly perfectly.” Elspeth says with a grin and hands on hips while Mistress Hempstock lets out a great laugh. “That’ll do. Now about my money. Mistress Hempstock and I have some ideas.”

#good omens fanfic #aziraphale x crowley through the ages #fluff and humor #read on a03 #ineffable idiots

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moemammon · 3 years

Note

An MC that steals clothes to the point where they have more of the boys clothes than the boys do

Big Boyf hoodies

The Demon Bros react to MC Stealing their Clothes!

Lucifer

You have ten seconds before you're subjected to a vibe check

Jk, Lucifer MIGHT be okay with you wearing his clothes, depending on his mood. If he's got things to do, you'd best leave his stuff alone

Otherwise, the sight of you walking around wearing that huge fur coat of his is enough to put him in a much better mood for the rest of the day. Maybe he won't beat Mammon's ass today after all? 🤔

As long as you keep his fancy coat clean, he's happy. He might even start "accidentally" leaving things out for you to get to, and his ego inflates tenfold when he sees you've found them.

He'll tease you a little bit about it, asking "Did you miss me so much that you had to wear my clothing?"

Mammon

Bruh???? Where the hell did his jacket go-

He tossed it in the dryer and now it's gone! Time to destroy his room in the search-

And that's when he sees you walking around wearing it, like it's no big deal. You haven't even spotted him yet but boy is he staring

He doesn't even have a CHANCE to think about being mad at you, because you chose to wear his clothes specifically. His ego? Through the roof. Definitely considers buying you things to match what he wears.

Now everyone knows you're HIS human! He'd never let anyone else wear his stuff, after all! "You're the one that's been takin' my jacket?? Well.... I guess it's only natural that ya wanna wear the Great Mammon's clothes! S-so don't go takin' it off, ya hear?!"

Levi

The normie??? Is wearing HIS clothes??? Specifically the Ruri-chan shirt he sleeps in?????

The fact that you went out of your way to get them... He doesn't know if he's horrified or honored, but he's definitely somewhere in the middle considering the look on his face. And honestly he's so damn shocked that he thinks his heart might explode.

This is LITERALLY an epic gamer anime moment. When the male protagonist finds his lover/love interest wearing one of his oversized shirts.... m-moe...

He can't even look at you directly, so he has to do it through his camera lens. Did you really think he wouldn't fill up his entire phone's memory bank with photos of you? Think again. Maybe if he leaves some cosplay out, you might wear that too..?

"Wh-Huh? O-o-of course I knew you took my shirt! There's no way I wouldn't notice. B-But you don't have to take it off! I mean... you can keep it if you want... I have three more."

Satan

Satan doesn't know how to wear a coat properly anyway so it's no wonder you took it, to show him how it's done one sleeve wearing ass

It didn't take detective Satan very long to find out where it'd gone, because he soon spots you wearing it.

You're sitting in an armchair with his coat draped around you, clearly content and comfortable with your newly acquired clothing.

And he pauses, just outside of your line of sight so he can compose himself. He’d be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat when he saw it draped over you. It made him want to gather you up on his lap and keep you there forever.

Instead, once he's calmed down, he rounds the corner to question you about it. "If you were cold, why didn't you tell me? Here, let me sit next to you. Ah, you can keep the coat on. It suits you."

Asmo

This is literally all he's ever wanted tbh. He's not even surprised that you want to try on his clothes, because?? They're HIS.

But he's gushing about it forever. He's so quick to snap a million photos of you and posts them to devilgram, sets it as his home and lock screen, maybe prints a couple of photos to keep-

You never hear the end of it. Whether you were trying to be covert or not, he's got you and he's never letting go.

He'll literally give you the clothes he thinks will suit you best, and gushes over the say they compliment you.

"It's like having my own doll to dress up! You don't know how happy I am to put my clothes on you~! Shall we buy matching outfits? Or maybe... you prefer that they belong to me~?"

Beel

Beel can be a little forgetful, so sometimes he misplaced his jacket. He always finds it in the end, either through his brothers or his own means, so he's completely stumped when he's looked everywhere and STILL can't find it. And he's starting to get hungry again, so now he's more interested in going to the kitchen.

Then he finds you exiting your room, rubbing the sleep of your afternoon nap from your eyes. You don't seem to notice him and just quietly wander past, wearing Beel's jacket.

He doesn't even stop you, just watching you go before he's suddenly forgetting all about his hunger pains, and more interested in quietly following you like a dog.

You both end up in the kitchen, and he's still watching over you happily while you eat some chips. Don't mind him while he uhhhhh picks you up and takes him to his room so he can hold you lmao

"MC.... did you have my jacket this entire time? I was looking for it. Oh, I'm not angry or anything, I like seeing you wear it. You should do that more often."

Belphie

He realizes that you took something so fast-

Belphie may be able to sleep anywhere, but he has to be comfortable enough for it. That comfort usually comes in the form of his jacket, so when he discovers it's missing and has looked everywhere, he gets a little agitated.

Grumpy boy goes to find you to force you to take a nap with him until he feels better, and discovers that you're guilty. But his annoyance is replaced by pride when he sees how comfortable you look, napping away in his jacket.

He's not letting you keep it of course, but he's sure there's something else he can let you wear instead. Part of him is convinced you're only wearing it because it's comfortable, while the other part wonders if you're wearing it because it's his...

So he pokes your face until you wake up, and demands an answer. "You took my jacket without asking, huh? I couldn't sleep a wink because of you.....If you wanted to feel like I was with you, you should've just went to my room. Scoot over, I'm joining you."

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iwadori · 3 years

Note

are you going to do a 'when the haikyuu boys make you insecure' part with Iwaizumi / could I request that?

When they make you insecure part 6 (Iwaizumi,Matsukawa)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

masterlist

AN: Did I embedd myself in this story? Yes, yes i did. :3 (it’s only a small part dw loool)

Iwaizumi

One day when you were walking to the gym to go see your boyfriend

You overhear him and the team talking about some instagram girl

“She’s hot” you hear Boktuo yell doing a hoot as he fawns over a picture, with the rest of the guys agreeing.

“What do you think Iwaizumi?” Hinata ask

“She’s cute... I guess?” the rest of the guys, grunt in disagreement at Iwa’s lack of drooling over the girl.

“Well I see why you wouldn’t want her Haji-kun,” says Atsumu “you are into the more simple girls bro”

“Simple?” Iwaizumi questions, and the rest of the guys agree

“Yeah simple, you know Y/N... she’s simple” says one of the guys, with the word ‘simple’ rolling off their tounge with a tone of disgust.

“I guess your right guys...” Iwaizumi says “Y/N is pretty basic and simple but-”

You leave the gym before you hear what the rest of them had to say. When you got to your house you bolt straight to the mirror, you look at your outfit and frown. You never thought your style was ‘basic,’ to be fair you wouldn’t describe anybodys style as basic or simple. Of course, you weren’t like those instagram influencers, that wasn’t your thing. But Iwa has known that about you for years... but I guess that’s not what he truly likes.

You go to your closet and take out all the contents, just tossing all your clothes (even some of your favourite items ever) and dashing them in a black trash bag putting them to the side. You were already on a mission to buy a whole new wardrobe, going through all different stores and looking on pinterest for inspo.

You didn’t really talk to Iwa for the rest of the week, since you wanted him to see you in your ‘new form,’ you weren’t being radiosilent but you didn’t initiate any hang outs with him or face time calls (which he did find slightly odd, but didn’t think that much by it.)

Finally, the clothes came and you were kind of shocked at how much you ordered you spent over £200 on clothes from all different places. When you were trying them on, you liked some of them the ones that were kind of similar to your past style but not so ‘simple,’ the others you kind of frowned at since it definitely didn’t feel like ‘you’ at all. ‘This is for Iwa,’ you reminded yourself as your forced a smile on your face analysing yourself in the mirror.

You had everything sorted, your wardrobe was now changed and done the colours and styles you once wore before is now the complete opposite. You invited Iwa over, hesistantly waiting to see how would he react.

When you hear your door knock, you rush over to open it and model a pose you saw one of those girl do trying to look as natural as possible.

“Hey babe ho-” he says, with his eyes widening seeing your new look “Woah Y/N!”

“Hey Haji..come in!” you exclaim with a beaming smile pulling him inside to the couch. “So, are we going to continue watching the crown, I watched the previous episode and god prince phillip is such a dick.”

You look over your shoulder and see Iwa still standing in your entranceway a bit awkwardly, looking a bit stunned. “Come sit down then, we’ve got an episode to watch.”

“uh oh yeah, sure” he says blinking, following you to the couch.

You got through atleast 4 episodes together, you barely talked as you were really engrossed in the show. Iwa was barely paying attention, he was too busy questioning how you were acting. This definitely wasn’t the girl he knew, even the way you were acting whilst watch the show was odd. The way you’d cutely giggle and ‘sublty’ look over to him whilst laughing at a funny part of the show instead of just doing your usual obnoxious laugh that he loved to hear.

“Oh Y/N, I’m going to go to the bathroom.” he says standing up, you don’t reply you just wave your hand in acknowledgement.

On his way to the bathroom, Iwa nearly trips on a black bag left outside your bedroom door. He opens it, and mildly gasped when he saw all your old stuff jumbled up in there. He picks up the back and goes straight back to the living room and stands in front of you.

“Haji, what are you doing you’re blocking the TV” you complaining trying to see what’s happening behind him.

He drops the black bag infront of you and you internally curse yourself for not moving. You stare at him waiting for him to say something.

“Well whats this then.” he says looking down at you, almost like a disapproving dad.

“Clothes.” you say smartly, knowing what he was asking.

“You know what I meant Y/N, why are all your clothes in a garbage bag.”

“Because I wanted to put them there,” you wanted to seem as nochalant about it as possible as if putting all your clothes in a garbage bag doesn’t make you feel sad.

“Yeah but why?” he says sitting down next to you.

“Just because I wanted to” you reiterate “what else do you want me to say?”

“Well this isn’t like you, its just a bit random Y/N” he says

“I know this isnt like me you” you spat, standing up “Isn’t this what you wanted anyways.” You head to your bedroom picking up the bag with you, with Iwa hot on your heels.

“What do you mean this is what I wanted?” he says in disbelief “When did I ever say that?”

“It doesn’t matter” you mumble, you start to aggressively take our your old clothes and shove them back into your wardrobe whilst Iwa is just talking. You’re not really listening to him your just putting the clothes back.

“Y/N Stop!” he yells kind of knocking you out of your ‘trance,’ “what is going on with you?” he grabs you hands and pulls them down stopping you from what you were doing and he winced at seeing your tear stricken face.

He gently pulls you into his arms sitting you both on your bed, waiting for you to speak. “I don’t know what you want from me Iwa..” you start your voice slightly breaking “it’s just I did this all for you and you don’t even appreciate it.”

“I don’t know what you mean Y/N?” he says sounding genuinely confused.

“Y/N is simple and basic.” you say repeating words that you heard your boyfriend say about you, you feel him tense as you say it and you slowly get out of his hug.

“Y/N I-”

“That really hurt Hajime, I know now that I'm not your ‘type’ but I-”

“No Y/N, you are my type of course you are!” he says gulping in nervousness “I love you, and your style. I’ve always being enamored by how you dress and present yourself and I don’t know why I even said you’re basic and simple I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Really?” you say sniffling looking down

“Yes really you idiot,” he says lifting your head up “To be fair I don’t care what you wear, since you look great in anthing I just want you to be happy Y/N and especially not dress for anyone including me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree slightly nodding your head.

“Good, so can we go and finish the crown and then burn all these clothes?” Iwa jokes as he stands up.

“Burn them!” you exclaim “These cost £200, you muppet.”

“£200! Gosh Y/N, next time you go shopping im definitely coming with you.” he says shaking his head “can’t have you blowing out your bank account for clothes you don’t even like that much.”

You spend the rest of the day finishing of The Crown and you and Iwa eventually both sort out your wardrobe. Your style and aethetic changes a lot more through the times you were together and Iwa was very supportive and helpful of every single change. Especially *insert your favourite dress aesthetic here.*

Matsukawa

You were walking with your friends; Iwa, Tooru, Maki and your boyfriend Matsun. Walking to school as you did every morning, today the topic of conversation was Tooru’s bad taste in women.

“Gosh yesterday was horrible, she didn’t want to talk to me at all,” he complained “all she wanted to do was to come straight to my place, I didn’t even have the chance to tell her my hair routine.”

“That’s why you don’t find dates off of Tinder shittykawa” grunted Iwaizumi

“Well I know that now!” he exclaimed.

“Y/N,” said Makki grasping your attention “Would you ever use Tinder?”

“Well I-”

“Of course she wouldn’t” your boyfriend interrupted wrapping his arm round your shoulder “she’s got me”

“Yeah, but if you two weren’t together, would you use it.”

“Well may-”

“Y/N definitely wouldn’t” he said interrupting you AGAIN “she’s way to frigid for that shit”

Frigid? You thought to yourself, ouch. Their was a quick awkward silence and all you could hear was Matsukawa laughing with the others laughing after awkwardly in pursuit. After sensing your uncomfortability (is that a word?) Oikawa decides to change the subject to make things less awkward,

“I need a woman who understands me!” he rants “One that can listen to me and appreciate my awesome hair.”

“Goodluck with that Shittykawa.”

Oikawa rambles on as you walk to school with the other guys chiming in. You on the other hand, were lost in thought. Your sex life wasn’t something you would want to publicly talk about let alone to you and your boyfriends' male friends. Also, with Matsun describing you as ‘frigid’ struck a nerve. You weren’t frigid, well at least to you, you weren’t.

When you got to school you immediately rushed straight to your lesson claiming that you teacher really needed to talk to you. Which was odd to Matsukawa as you usually all hung around each other until the bell rang, the other boys gave each other knowing looks all assuming the reasons for your odd behaviour.

At lunch time, you stayed in your class instead of going up to the roof where you and your friends usually end up. In the class room you hear one of the girls in your class, Empress having one of her usual gossip conversations with her group of friends.

“Hajime is so hot!” she said, fanning her face being dramatic

“Of course he is! You should totally go for him.” her friend said and the rest of the friends agreed.

“What do you think Y/N?” she says to you catching your attention “you’re close friends with him right?”

“Yeah, I am” you say a bit sadly “You should definitely go for him, I think you’d be perfect together.”

“Okay! I think I might later” she says smiling. Her and friends leave, but then Empress returns and walks straight to you.

“Are you alright doll?” she asks softly smiling

“I guess so..” you say hesitantly “It’s just something my boyfriend said to me this morning.”

“Matsun?” she asks and you nod in reply “What did he say?”

After you rehash the situation from this morning Empress scowls in annoyance, “Boys can be such pigs sometimes, such a dick thing to say.”

“I know right!” you respond “Even if I was frigid, which im totally not it’s not even a bad thing nor is it something to reveal to people in public in a ‘jokey’ way.”

“Yeah!” she agrees “I think you should go and give him a piece of your mind.”

“I mean...” your voice falters, when it comes to Matsun you’ve never really given him a ‘piece of your mind,’ even when he makes jokes that you’re not so fond of.

“Come on!” she encourages “I’ll come with you and cheer you on.”

“You just want to come to see Iwa Empress” you say pointedly “But fine let’s go.”

You both power walk to the roof where you see the four seijoh boys sitting down and eating. “Oh hi Y/N/-chan and look Iwa its Emp-chan... isn’t that a surprise!” Iwa blushes and the rest of the guys laugh.

You walk straight up to Matsun and stand right infront of him. “Matsukawa I need to talk to you,” you say folding your arms. “Why whats up babe?” he says, still sitting down with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Alone.” you say turning around walking to a secluded spot. Behind you, you hear Matsun get up and the rest of the boys saying “oooh Matsukawa your in trouble” as they laugh.

“What’s wrong with you today Y/N?” he asks slightly accusatorily.

“I didn’t appreciate the comment you made today on the way to school,” you say with your arms folded.

“Oh that little comment about you being frigid, come on it was just a joke I wasn’t being serious.” he says lightly laughing but he stops once he sees the glare you give him ”you knew it was a joke right?”

“Matsun, some are your jokes just aren’t funny,” you say “especially when they're about me and our sex life in front of our friends too.”

“Y/N I didn’t mea-”

“You just come off as a huge dick sometimes, and I can’t do this anymore if you keep on making these comments anymore I don’t think I can do this.”

“Woah Y/N, are you threatening to break up with me?” he asks “Over a few little comments?”

“These aren’t a few little comments, sometimes what you say is just unnecessary and rude.”

“Okay well...”

“Well...” you repeat staring at him waiting for to apologise or atleast say something, “fuck you Matsukawa.”

You storm away and walk bout to the group saying “Empress lets go.” She jumps of Iwa’s lap and waves by to them following you back down to the school. You walk into the bathroom and just start to cry, “Y/N whats wrong?” Empress says pulling you into a hug

“H-He doesn’t care,” you cry “He pretty much excused his stupid comments, passing them off as little ‘jokes,’ that didn’t apparently mean anything.”

“Oh dear,” Empress says consoling you “he’s not worth your time right now.”

“B-but but I love him.” you wail fat tears streaming down your face.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” she says letting go of the hug “so what do you wanna do about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say “I don’t want to break up with him or anything, but is there a point in staying if he’s just going to make these comments again.”

“I don’t know Y/N, but whatever you wanna do I’ll support. Wether it’s keying his car or reading shitty fanfiction and crying.” Empress says making you laugh.

The final bell rings and now it's time to go home, of course you don’t walk with the guys so you just enjoy your own company walking home.

“Y/N! Y/N!” you hear from behind you and of course the only person it can be is Matsukawa.

“What do you want?” you mumbled

“I..I want too” he says heaving out of breath from the running he had to do “I want to apologise. I need do.”

“Okay...” you respond

“Im sorry, Im so so sorry,” he says “those jokes and comments were stupid and I agree I can be a dick sometimes. Well a lot of the time, but I never wanted to be a dick to you.”

“Well you were.”

“I know I was, and I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse what I said and what I have said before I just hope I can make it up to you.”

“Okay then.”

“So are we not broken up?”

“No we’re not broken up, but it’ll take a lot of making up to do for me to fully forgive you.”

“Great! And I'll spend every day to get you to forgive me.”

Which he did, he spent every day showering you with love and affection. He was way better than he was before, you even went on double dates with Oikawa and his flavour of the week and triple dates with Iwa and his girlfriend. Matsukawa, although he still made jokes, he never targeted them and centered them around you in an insulting way.

AN: I didn’t really like the matsukawa one since i couldn’t really write for him properyl sooo sorry bout that one kids.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu scenarios #haikyu headcanons #haikyu #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fluff #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa angst #matsukawa fluff #matsukawa oneshot #signedwithane😌

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honeyabyss · 3 years

Text

Phone calls after Mc returned to the human realm

Lucifer:

this man is stubborn, calling you would be like admitting he's gone soft and his pride does not allow that!

so he refuses to call for the first few weeks, keeping himself busy with work of which he has enough anyway

due to all his student council work, a few other tasks of Diavolo and on top of that the usual shenanigans of his brothers, he quickly becomes very stressed

he's at his breaking point and needs someone to talk to so he can release some of his stress before he takes it out on someone else

so he goes to your old room and starts talking as soon as he enters it, only to stop confused when he doesn't see you in the room, remembering only now you left for the human realm

disappointed he sits down onto the bed and curls the blanket around himself

"Their scent is almost gone...Soon it'll be as if they were never here"

he closes his eyes, sighs softly and makes his decision

"Mc? I hope I didn't wake you. I simply thought a conversation would be nice, it's been a while..."

Lucifer's call is pretty casual, he talks about his day, work and his troublemaker brothers, it almost feels like any other day before just this time it is over phone

he does not want to admit he misses you, a) because he'd seem weak and b) he fears what admitting it will do to him, he might just miss you even more

BUT while saying goodbye he accidentally lets a "I miss you" slip, his breathing stops shortly realizing his mistake, he is about to apologize when you say it back

he smiles softly, genuinely relieved about your shared sentiment and whispers "I'll call you again soon then" before hanging up

from then on he calls you every evening and you better jump right away and pick up at the first ringing, because this man is lonely without you

Mammon:

"Congratulations! You're one of our lucky winners of our monthly Devil-Lottery. We'll have to confirm your bank account number with the one given to us when you agreed to participating in the lottery. Would you be so kind to slowly repeat the number-"

this greedy demon will quite literally try to scam you, only to absolutely panic when you hang up on him

he will instantly call you back, constantly adjusting his glasses, a nervous habit he acquired over the years

"H-hey...Mc...uhm, it's me your favourite demon!"

he is relieved you picked up, as it means you didn't block him right away, he stumbles over his words trying to find an excuse why he just tried to scam you

"Ah you know I only did that to test you, you've passed nobody scams my human! You're my amazing human after all! That's why I love you...u-uh I-i mean...nothing...that was a static you must have misheard..."

when you tell him you knew it was him as you recognized his voice, he'll be outraged, screaming into his D.D.D (and probably later getting punched by Lucifer for being so loud)

"What do you mean you already knew?! You dared to hang up on The Great Mammon?

He gets a bit sulky by your reaction, so how about playing into his obvious lie of testing you to make him feel better again

besides trying to scam you Mammon also called to (not so sneakily) check on your wellbeing

now that you're gone he constantly worries about you and he can't do much to help, but if you were actually in need of help due to whatever, trust me he'd fight Lucifer himself for permission to go to you

he'll call you as often as he can, sometimes with a few days of a break in between, asking you about your life and also letting you in on his upcoming money making schemes...please don't tell Lucifer about them

Mammon has learned his lesson though, he'll never try to scam you again, he couldn't bare it if you were to block or ignore his calls

Leviathan:

phone calls? Why? You two can just talk about the in-game talk function of this new online game you play, but no real world talk while playing that ruins the immersion!

Levi will rarely call you as he just doesn't feel comfortable enough to talk with you about normie stuff for too long

he normally just spam writes you, ding, ding, ding, one message after another coming in without you being able to respond quick enough

so if gets too much and you decide to just call him so you can have an actual chance of responding, Levi just panics and almost drops his D.D.D

"Mc? D-did you accidentally hit the c-call button? N-no? I-i see no I love you too!!....AAAAAAAh I-i meant I l-l-love t-talking to you too...hehehe w-why would a yucky o-otaku like me say something like that"

poor boy is so nervous he'll say something stupid and will stutter a lot the first few times you call him, he is just not used to talking on the phone

he will laugh nervously over everything and sometimes there'll be a phase of awkward silence, but please don't point it out, Levi is already stressed enough as it is

once he gets used to calls, he'll surprisingly suggests to have a phone call while both of you are watching the new episode of an anime, so he'll be able to talk to you as if you're right next to him, which works out mediocre at first, you have to tell him to be a bit quieter a few times but besides that it's quiet nice

"Ooooooowhooooooah!!! Did you see that? That was amazing, I wish I had these superpowers, I'd save you of every danger like a real hero! W-what do you mean I'm already your hero?"

Yes, you saw and heard it, and your neighbours probably heard Levi...

on the rare occasions Levi calls you he'll often asks you for favours like to buy him this exclusively in the human realm sold limited edition game, of course he isn't like his scummy brother Mammon who'll constantly asks for things and he'll also make it up by sending you stuff you can only get on Akuzon

so calls don't happen very often, but neither if you really mind, you'll still be in contact through messages and games

Satan:

Satan will be very proper about calling you, he'll check through messages if you're fine with him calling you, so he can be sure you have time and he doesn't bother you

Satan never jumps into a conversation right away (unless he is angry), he makes sure to show interest in you and hold a bit small talk, asking about your day, how you're doing and so on

you talk about many different things with him mostly about your shared interests, but Satan is willing to listen to you ramble about hobbies he doesn't have as well

one thing you two quickly come to do was have book club sessions over phone

"I wish you were still here Mc. I miss my book discussion partner, nobody here has as interesting opinions and views as you..."

back in Devildom you two would both read a book and afterwards discuss your thoughts, and you found a way too keep doing just that

you both write about books, decide on one to read for the week and would than have a phone call where you just talk for hours about the piece of literature you've read

now that you're back in the human realm, the book choices are even bigger as you can read human books as well, you just have to send a copy to Satan, sometimes Barbatos will be nice and pick a book up and deliver it to Satan, or to you if it's the other way around with a demon book

"Oh? No, you're right. I haven't thought about it like that yet...your thoughts are so fascinating!"

Satan will shower you in praise for every little detail that you noticed yet he missed. he genuinely enjoys your phone calls, and though he wouldn't admit it, sometimes he anticipates your call more than the actual book

even though there now is a bigger distance between you two he still feels as close to you as before, not much has changed for him and he knows he'll be able to see you again soon, he'll just have to be patient

"Next week, same time? I'm looking forward to talking to you again. Take care until then!"

Asmodeus:

"Oh my Lord! You won't believe what just happened!!!"

no greeting or alike, just straight into the discussion

whenever something gossip worthy happens, Asmo is already dialling your number to spill the tea and keep you updated on any Devildom related gossip, even if it won't help you much, it's a nice thought of him keep you in the loop

those are only the spontaneous call though, obviously you can't take these all the time...you still have a life of your own...

you two actually call each other every day at the same time, plus/minus a couple minutes, the water in the tub has to be filled first...yeah Asmo likes to talk you while he is taking his afternoon bath

"Hahh it's so relaxing, warm water caressing my beautiful skin, and the bath bomb today smells so good! I wish you could smell it, or even better I wish we could bathe together!"

*water sloshing noises intensified*

Asmo...no....yes...maybe...just stop, you'll fluster Mc!

"No really! I miss having you here, I'll pamper you all day the next time I'll get to see you. You must already be starved of my beauty, but don't worry my dear, I'm just as starved of seeing your lovely face!"

what to talk about while he is bathing? Anything really if it's about your day, any complains or whatever, just expect a few innuendos of him...that's nothing new though

seriously though Asmo is the guy to talk to about any of your problems, he will listen and try to come up with a solution for you, even if he seems a bit narcissistic sometimes he really cares about you, so use your phone calls as therapy from time to time

"Oh darling, don't worry it'll be okay! I'm here to help...now tell me every detail so I can come up with a plan! I'll always be there for you, no matter what!"

Beelzebub:

"*munch munch* This one is really good! Mc you should try some...oh"

now that you're back in the human realm, Beels snack times are very lonely, he has just gotten so used to your presence, even sharing his food is normal by now

and let's be honest Beels snack time is 24/7 so he misses you a lot

he feels the urge to call you every five minutes and sometimes even forgets to eat while phone is ringing and he is waiting for you to pick up

but you can't constantly talk with him over phone so the calls often end up on your voicemail where Beel tells you about all the different kind of foods he ate that day

when Belphie catches wind of his twin constantly pestering you, he hides Beels D.D.D so he can't call you all the time

when you're actually able to pick up on his call, Beel will be so happy you can quite literally hear his huge grin while he's excitedly talking about his current snack

"Have you ever tried spicy bat-wings? There opened a new restaurant in town and it's really good!! Next time you're here I'll invite you there. Oh but what if it closes before you're back...ah you'll just have to visit soon!"

though Beel is often disappointed when you don't pick up, he would never hold it against you, he knows he calls quite a lot, but he just misses you and tipping a message while he eats is harder than putting his D.D.D on speaker and talking to you

of course he doesn't only talk about food, he also tells you about how his brothers are doing and how his workout was, or what things he has planned to do at the weekend, all in all Beel is just super happy to share everything of his life with you

on rare occasions he'll call you and be untypically quiet, that happens when he had a fight with his twin, it's not often but sometimes it happens and his first instinct is to call you, because he feels like he can tell you everything so he is very comfortable and trusting with you

"I miss you a lot, you know...but I also know that you think about me daily, every time your stomach rumbles you'll be reminded of me and that makes me happy, I also think about you every time I'm hungry! Hm? But I'm always hungry? That's right! You're always on my mind!"

Belphegor:

Listen, his sleeping schedule is very tight, you can't just expect him to call you!

he will call you so rarely and if you call him it might just happen that he is sleeping and has phone on silent...or he's just to lazy to walk to his phone, or he is just not in the mood to talk... he takes any excuse to not be on the phone

Belphie does like talking to you, but he is not the greatest at long conversations so he like messages more

sometimes when he can't seem to fall asleep, he will be the one to call you...in the middle of the night...and you better pick up or he gets annoyed

"What took you so long? I thought you wanted to talk more often and then you leave me hanging for a whole minute? Doesn't matter I would have waited longer with you...."

he is mostly silent through a phone call, his main reason to call you is because he like to listen to you talk, it's calming to him and if he calmer then he might be able to fall asleep again

so don't expect an amazingly deep conversation...

"Mhmmm...hm? Yeah I'm still there. I'm listening keep talking, I love your voice..."

he'll bring up a topic from time to time so you have an inspiration about what to talk about, but most of the times he just lazily hum or making acknowledging noises so you know he is still listening

"Zzz..."

he will to 100% fall asleep while being on the phone with you, that doesn't mean you're boring, but that he trusts you so much that he is comfortable enough to let his guard down

Diavolo:

"Good afternoon! How was the week of my favourite human?...ah don't tell Solomon I said that hahaha"

as the future king of hell, he is a busy man, but he still manages to give you a call once a week, to the same time you two would have normally had your weekly afternoon tea meeting in the castle

with the exchange year over there is not much about your classes to talk about left, but Dia is just as excited about any other topic you decide to talk about, be it the most mundane thing he loves it!

"Oh so you went grocery shopping? That must be fun! Barbatos does it all the time, though I suppose you buy less things...I'd like to see a human market at some point, I wonder if they're very different from ours...oh but I wouldn't really able to tell I suppose, Barbatos and you would need to point out the differences!"

this man can talk without taking a break for hours...you think Asmo is bad? Prepare for Diavolo...

but seriously it never gets boring with him, because he somehow finds good and fun stuff in every activity, I swear give him a vacuum and watch him clean you're whole flat with the enthusiasm of a child getting presents on Christmas

the work of a future king consists of so much paperwork, Dia will have only few events of his week to tell you about, if there is something to talk about there is a high chance it has to do with the brothers

so he'd much rather just sip his tea and listen to you, he'll ask you loads of questions though about anything he doesn't know

sometimes you two forget the time and Barb sadly has to remind you to come to a stop for now

"Mc? Did I wake you? If so I'm terribly sorry...would you be up to talk for a little bit more? I'm not feeling too tired yet"

surprise night time calls from Dia where you'll have to speak silently or Barbatos might reprimand Diavolo for staying up all night and being tired the next day, Dia doesn't regret it ever though, he likes to talk you a lot!

Barbatos:

Barbatos is always busy and his schedule can often suddenly change with a new whim of his master, so he can't exactly have a scheduled call with you

so you might not get to hear of him very often

BUT he made it a habit to call you when he is on duty to do the dishes, the chore is somewhat boring to him with no one to distract him

so he calls you and if you pick up, he'll put you on speaker and talk to you about whatever comes to mind while his hands wash one after another of the expensive porcelain of the royal household

"I've bought this new tea which is said to be really nice, it can even be enjoyed cold apparently. It seems to have to just the right amount of sweetness to not get bitter when drank cold...you can still add sugar for extra sweetness, though I believe you're already sweet enough as it is"

no matter what you decide to talk about Barbatos always has at least some knowledge about it, so it's beneficial for both of you, he can tell you the things he knows and you tell him your stuff

"I hope I'm not bothering you too much? There is quite a lot to do today... so it might take some more time..."

you will never get to know that Barb has actually already finished the dished a few minutes ago, but just isn't ready to say goodbye yet

the rest of the employees will be able handle the castle for a bit longer without him, meanwhile he can take a well deserved tea break and listen to you

he very much enjoys the fact he found a way to have some time with you while theoretically having to be at work, as long as he is able to finish all the tasks of his daily schedule, he doesn't feel too bad about his not so legal break

"I fear I'll have to get back to work now, but I loved talking to you today! I hope you enjoyed it as well. I'll talk to you again soon!"

Solomon:

Though Solomon returned to the human realm with you, you haven't heard much of him, being a wise old man sorcerer must be very time consuming

so calls of Solomon might be rare but that doesn't mean you don't write messages every now and then, when he calls you though it's always about something interesting or important to share, he talks about those things rather verbally, the best option for him would be in person, but that doesn't always work so a phone call is the second best option

"My lovely apprentice, how is your studying going? I've found the tome we were talking about last time you were interested in...it took some research to find which sorcerer had it but I brought it back for you. How about I'll drop by you next week? I can help you with your studying then, the tome is written in an older version of the language it might be easier if we do it together!"

Solomon can simply not sit still, so while you're on the phone, he is always tinkering at something and the background noises are sometimes quite peculiar...

Was that a pig squeaking? Are you sure you should be brewing a potion while being on the phone? Isn't it distracting?

Oh Lord was that an explosion?!

"Hmm? Oh yeah...I`m cooking dinner right now! It was just a small explosion though, you know the ones that are regularly happen in the kitchen. Why? Was my cute student worried about me?~ heheh alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you...for now!"

no matter how chaotic, teasing or busy Solomon is though, if you call him and are in need of help, he'll drop everything and run to you

he knows how hard it can be when studying magic, not to mention that the studies are difficult, the constant hiding of any magic in front of other humans is also very nerve wrecking, sometimes you feel like giving up and going back to your normal life, back to your non-magical very human friends that are blissfully unaware of everything happening around them, but you know you could never forget and act as if nothing happened, you'd also miss your new not so normal friends, so when times get hard Solomon will rush to you and comfort you in person or at least calm you down on phone until he is able to go to you

if that happens he is more likely to call you every two to three days just to check in on you

"Hey how is my strong and beautiful fellow human doing? Feeling better yet? Need a shoulder to lean on? I'm at your flat in 10 minutes..."

Simeon:

Simeon is a daily caller as well, he's gotten so used to seeing you every day that he feels quite restless if he doesn't get to hear your voice at least once a day

he asked you to recommend at what time he should call, he doesn't want to restrict you in your daily life, so you both came to the conclusion after dinner would be perfect, as both of you are free for the rest of the day then

He will often write a bit on his TSL scripts, just some notes and inspirations he comes up while talking to you

"How was your day my little lamb? You haven't overworked yourself right? Tell me if you ever need help!"

though Simeon would definitely have things to complain about with how Michael is working him to the bone, he'd rather not worry you so instead he tells you about how Luke is doing and evasively answers you questions about himself

"Oh me? Ah yes, I'm doing fine, just doing the usual archangel stuff you know...Ah please do not worry Mc, my dear! Nothing dangerous!"

over the time his TSL notes turn into random scribbles, rhymes and poems and every now and then something that looks suspiciously like your name

Sometimes Luke crashes the call and wants to speak with you as well so Simeon tries to put the phone on speaker only to end up ending the call and Luke getting frustrated with Simeon and doing it himself

then again Simeon also just accidentally hangs up on you mid conversation, because his fingers hit the button without him noticing, he'll get so confused when you cut off in the middle of your sentence and thinks something has happened to you, only to be relieved when you call back a few seconds later

Simeon is very interested in your day and how you doing, asking you many questions and encouraging you to keep talking

"Oh no please keep talking! You're not overwhelming me at all, in fact I like listening to your voice, it puts even the most melodic voice of an angel into the shadows...hahaha did I make you embarrassed? I apologize, I didn't mean to, I was only telling you my honest opinion!"

Simeon is quite the flatterer, but he often does not notice it, he simply tries to be nice, so a call with him leaves you flustered and stuttering ever now and then, but he is just as quick to blush at a honest and heartfelt compliment

Luke:

Luke might be an angel, but he is still low ranking and therefore has less assignments, besides studying to become a great angel and doing some minor tasks for Michael, he is relatively free

he often spends his free time in the kitchen constantly trying to improve his baking, now after the exchange year not only to impress Michael and Simeon but also Barbatos, maybe a bit Beel and definitely you!

but as Simeon is still working at these times, he gets somewhat lonely so he'll try calling you to keep him some company

Luke has this habit of speaking the recipes out loud to remember the steps better and be able to able to make them from memory, he got that tip from Barbatos, but he still has his moments where he gets stuck and forgets what to do next, you can notice that when he gets silent and concentrates on trying to remember

"Ah right that was it! I almost forgot about the eggs! Good thing you were here...or well on the phone hehe! You always remember this stuff, you're so amazing!"

when you tell him you simply looked it up in the internet for him, he'll get a bit sulky that he now basically cheated, but with your reassurance that he is already great and can remember so many other steps, he is quickly back to his happy little angel self

"Michael let me help with his conference today I was assistant record keeper today, one day I'll be able to do it alone, bit they're talking so much and so fast...I think I still need a couple centuries until I'm fully ready, but I'm working on improving! You should also try to improve your skills daily! Even a small bit of practice is good! Though I think you're perfect already!"

Luke most definitely learned his flattering from Simeon... he talks about many different things on the phone but repeating topic is Michael...just talking to you makes his day and later he'll tell everything Simeon and he smiles so brightly while he reports to him, please keep talking to him a lot!

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke

936 notes · View notes

fallinfl0wers · 3 years

Note

hello!! c: I loved prompt 18 and so I was wondering if you could write something with childe, diluc and kaeya (separately) where your s/o is very excited for the date that was arranged, the reader gets dressed and puts on his/her best clothes, but then after waiting a long time for her partner, she realizes that he won't show up. Maybe after returning home find the character sleeping or doing something else? angst/hurt with comfort attempt pls? 😭

When he stands you up, and then apologizes

summary: you had both agreed to this date, you even planned it on advance so that it wouldn't interfere with his schedule together! ...so why isn't he here? includes: childe (19 bullet points), diluc (21 bullet points), kaeya (19 bullet points) format: bulletted headcanons + small dialogues warnings: reader being stood up, also i think this turned out to be really gender neutral? i think i didn't really use gendered words... thank you for your request! i hope you like it >< i'm still not very good at writing kaeya, so i hope this was okay;;

Diluc

Truth be told, you were already expecting this to happen. Deep down.

But that didn't make it hurt any less.

You both had planned it with months of anticipation, too. He promised you he'd be here.

But here you were, coming back home after being stood up. You had waited for him for hours, and he never showed up.

So you were back at the winery, and he wasn't even there. The maids told you he had to attend... some business outside.

Just great, you thought as you entered your shared, empty room and put on some more comfortable clothing. He forgot about it.

When Diluc gets home late at night and goes to your room, he's greeted with you snacking on some cookies and reading a novel.

"Love?" "Oh, you're finally home. Hi."

Diluc feels guilty. The reason why he hadn't gone to your date was because he had received yet another threatening letter from the abyss order and had to take care of that as soon as possible.

It really wasn't his intention to stand you up!

Even if you know about his vigilante duties, he feels hesitant on telling you this.

He feels like it sounds like an excuse even if it isn't and he has proof.

So he kneels down next to the bed while you keep giving him the cold shoulder, hurt, yet trying not to show it to him.

"I'm sorry, love. I really am. I promise you this will be the last time something like this happens. Please let me make it up to you."

And making it up he does.

For the rest of the month, he clears his schedule as much as possible to spend time with you.

Whatever you want to get or do, he will get or do.

You want to eat your favorite cake? He'll get the maids to bake it for you.

You want to visit Liyue, you say? He can take you there and get you anything that catches your attention, from a simple dish to the most expensive of jewerly and outfits you could want.

He's awkward with his words, but even then he tries for you and tells you how precious you are to him, how much he loves you and how sorry he still is he sometimes can't spoil you and spend time with you how you deserve.

More than anything, though, he spends quality time with you and does acts of service for you besides the multiple gifts (since you probably rejected a lot of his offers to get you things). That's how he tries to make it all up to you.

He promises he'll be more careful from now on.

And he kept that promise, since in the next big date you organized, he was there an hour early with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, waiting for you.

You were never stood up again.

Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax

Normally, you wouldn't blame him or be too hurt when this kind of thing happens.

You understand he has a very important position within the Fatui and that means he can be sent on important, urgent missions at any time and he can't complain or go against his orders.

You respect his work, you get it and all.

But this time what hurt you the most wasn't being stood up, it was the fact that he didn't show up the next day, or the next, or the next, or the next after that.

He practically disappeared for two months without any notice and without sending any kind of letter or message.

A lot of the usual agents you'd see working at the bank and you knew worked under his command weren't there, and the few who were had no clue where he went.

You were both angry, hurt and worried sick.

You waited, and waited, and kept on waiting.

And the night he finally came back home, fortunately unharmed, you literally tackled him with a hug with tears in your eyes.

"Uwah, you missed me that much~? Wait- it's not the time for this! I'm- I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry I couldn't go to our date that day, it really wasn't my intention to-" "S-shut up! I- Do you know how worried I was?!"

He was thinking about your date the whole time he was away on that long, long mission.

Ajax can be a lot of things, most of which are bad things, but he would NEVER break a promise.

So he feels extremely guilty for breaking that one promise he had with you :(

If you thought Diluc could start to get overwhelming with gifts and attention, you have yet to see what Childe is willing to do to earn your forgiveness.

You WILL be treated like royalty, whether you want to or not.

He will spoil you rotten with everything he can. Food, gifts, travels, physical affection, adventures, theatre plays, concerts, art works, books-

Say the word and he will give you whatever you want. No need to hold back! He loves spoiling you, don't feel guilty for anything.

Hell, he would even let you beat him up without defending himself if you were really that mad at him.

"Okay, do you remember what we say in Snezhnaya about pinkie promises? If we break one, we can be thrown in the ice. Do you want us to go to Dragonspine so you can throw me in the ice or something?!" "A-ajax, we don't need to go that far!!" Or maybe you do, hmm...

Overall he's very apologetic and feels a bit disappointed in himself.

He never wants to break your trust, so he will make sure this won't happen again!

Kaeya

The Cavalry Captain is a very busy person, even if it sometimes doesn't look like it.

You know it, you've known it from the very start.

But it doesn't make it any less humilliating or painful to leave on your own after waiting for him for hours just for him not to show up at all.

You go back home and, after having cried for a while, you go to sleep on your own, locking the door from inside and keeping the key with you.

So when Kaeya went back home, he couldn't enter the room to sleep.

This man literally forgot about your date, sorry.

He just got so busy early in the day- he was practically overworked the entire day and couldn't get out to go to your date.

In fact, he was so tired at the moment that he feel asleep the moment he sat down on the couch.

So the apology would wait until tomorrow, when you would finally get out from the room to have breakfast.

You saw no glimpse of him, and assumed he just wasn't home right now.

But as you were making breakfast for yourself, he appeared seemingly out of nowhere and hugged you from behind.

"Hello there, darling... I'm sorry for yesterday, I suddenly got all this work piled upon me. I know, I know it sounds like an excuse but I swear it isn't. I'm just- I'm sorry, sweetheart, I really am."

He goes on to explain everything that happened to him the day before and apoogize over and over again.

He feels so sorry :( He was so stressed and overworked, it really just skipped over his head.

He asks you how would you want him to make it up to you.

He will do about everything you want, no matter what it is.

He, too, would let you hit him for a while if you were feeling mad enough to do it.

He's going to be practically glued to you for the rest of the week- or even the next month if he can!!

He will get very touchy and vocal about it too... Overall, Kaeya is going to be really clingy with you.

You might need to tell him to stop if it gets overwhelming, otherwise, he's going to keep on doing it!

#diluc x reader #childe x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact headcanon #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #melwritesgenshin #melodywritings

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belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years

Note

So I have a silly request, can I request the demon Bros who has an MC who just randomly puts up a good noodle board. Like there is no purpose to any of the stars on board and it's just a social experiment between MC and Solomon to see how the demons will react. I keep thinking of how funny it would be if MC went about a week just adding stars at random for no reason and one day taking two away from Lucifer with no explanation. Which makes them realize that they can now lose Stars. The bros get told that it's a social experiment after about a month of dealing with the good noodle board.

The Good Noodle Board (Demon Brother Headcanons)

“Hey, remember that one episode of spongebob? You know… the one?” Solomon asked over study break, and honestly… this man… this fucking man. If he wasn’t asking about Lucifer and how to get close to the demon he was asking shit like this. It didn’t make any sense, and it was so vague, it drove you nuts… but you were bored, so you decided to humor him.

“Ahhh, yes… I remember that one episode, out of 248… I remember the exact one that you’re talking about with no context or description. I know that one.” Was the sass necessary? Nope, absolutely not, but you couldn’t really be that way with the demon brothers because they knew how to sass you back twice as much, and you couldn’t possibly be that way with the angels because they wouldn’t understand it and their feelings were fragile. Solomon on the other hand was a little shit and his sass wasn’t even good so you could take it if he tried.

“Ha… funny. I mean the one with the noodle board, the Good Noodle Board.” Now it was ringing a bell, but it still made no sense why he was bringing it up, so you nodded to encourage him to keep going. There had to be some reason he was bringing this up. “Social experiment… see how the brothers would react to a Noodle Board. You gotta try it, a month tops, and tell me how it goes.” It wasn’t a bad idea, and it might be fun for everyone… or it could go horribly wrong… You’ll never know if you don’t try though.

You hung the Good Noodle Board right in the living room in the middle of the night, no explanation. They’ll just wake up to the noodle board, and that’s where the fun begins!

Lucifer

He is highly suspicious of the board. But right now he sees that everyone has the same amount of stars, so he doesn’t get it, but everything seems even, so it isn’t really a problem. Not yet at least. Things really started to get confusing when he came out of his office later in the day and saw two new stars next to his name. It was a good feeling because that meant he was ahead of everyone else… but why? How did he get those stars? What did he do? He said good morning to you this morning, and he remembered to eat something with his coffee, were those the reasons for the stars? This was more confusing than Lord Diavolos' out of order paperwork. “Oh! Y/N I caught you… the uh, Good Noodle Board… what is it? How does it work?” There was no fun in explaining it already, it wasn’t even day two at this point and he had racked up a bunch of stars. You didn’t know why he was worrying about it now, the real fun part hasn’t even come yet. You shrugged, smiling sheepishly at him before walking towards the stairs, waiting for him to go back into his office before running back out and sticking one more star next to his name. After two weeks came the fun part, taking away the stars. He yelled at Mammon for no apparent reason and made him sad… he got two stars taken away. He fell asleep at his desk overworking himself? One star is taken away, and after the experiment is over you’ll talk to him about that because it isn’t good. Every morning you wake up and see him fretting over this board, counting and recounting the stars just to make sure he’s not just seeing things and that his stars are going missing. “Y/N… The uhm… My stars seem to be going missing. Is there a reason for that? Do you think Mammon is stealing the stars? Hmm… Never mind. I’m not even worried about it. I have a meeting with Diavolo today. Goodbye.” Another star was taken away for accusing Mammon of things he didn’t do. To see Lucifer get so worked up over the board, you were sure Solomon would want to be there to experience it too. By the end of the month, Lucifer is frazzled and confused and thinking way too hard about all of it. You were kind of sad to end it, but seeing his face when you explained it to him made ending it all worth it.

“I-... Study break is for studying. Use it wisely, and stop letting Solomon put ideas in your head. If I may ask though… Why did I lose the stars?”

Mammon

The Good Noodle Board is awesome. He’s got so many stars right now, and he already knows you did it. You think he doesn’t get suspicious of why you’re not in your room and sneaks down to see what you’re doing? Not in a weird way, he’s just making sure you’re okay. But yeah, he totally watched you put up the board and everything. He tried to stay on his best behavior because, well… things like this usually meant there was incentive, and that could mean money at the end. You were onto that too though, and you were trying to keep things fair, which was already out the window when you found out that he already knew what the board was. “Ya know… I’ve been real good lately and… I don’t think the stars are showin’ how good I’ve been. Don’tcha think I should have more?” He pouted at you, and you could only laugh as you shook your head at him before walking away. He was going to ruin the experiment if he kept questioning you, so maybe you should just add a couple more to get him to shush, or at least to keep him from telling his brothers about it. It took a couple hours for him to get busy enough to not worry about the noodle board for a few minutes, just long enough for you to run back down to the living room and stick a couple more stickers next to his name. It was hard for him to stay good the whole time though. The experiment lasted a month, and it was amazing that he was able to be on his best behavior for even one whole week. By the second week he was back to his typical self. One by one you pulled stars off, and each time he’d come to you whining about how it wasn’t fair. “Ya all just wanna see me upset! That’s why yer takin’ my stars away! I don’t need the stupid Good Noodle Board anyway… I know I’m a good noodle!” He stormed out of the room, making sure to stomp loudly just to show how upset he is. So the social experiment went well, and when you finally told him what it was… He was torn between thinking it was funny or being upset because it was done at his expense, plus it meant that you hung out with Solomon which he didn’t like at all.

“Next time ya wanna do somethin’ like that come ta me instead! I don’t want ya hangin’ with Solomon anymore.”

Leviathan

The Good Noodle Board didn’t seem like it would be a problem, he stays in his room all the time anyway, it shouldn’t be a big deal. He’s banking on his stars staying consistent, there’s no way he could earn stars because he doesn’t leave his room, and he doesn’t like being in competition with his brothers, so it’s better if he just stays up in his room anyway. The board can’t affect him if he doesn’t think about it. The thing is, he was getting stars randomly… It didn’t make sense to him. He’d find a new star stuck next to his name when he came down for breakfast and dinner, and on the days that he didn’t skip RAD classes he’d have five more. The system was strange, it was like whoever was running the board, although he did assume it was you, they spotted his good behavior even when he wasn’t trying to be good. “Hey Y/N…” He stopped you after dinner, leading you into the living room to point at the board. “What’s uh… What’s up with this… Do you know anything about it?” It would have been easy to tell him, but there’s no fun in that. You shook your head, walking away and leaving Levi to stare at the board, questioning his newly placed stars. Taking the stars away was even more entertaining than putting them on. If he stayed up all night and raged and kept the rest of the house awake, he’d wake up to stars gone. If he skipped his RAD classes, his stars would be gone when he came back home. There wasn’t really anything else to take his stars away for, but once he noticed the stars were gone he started to panic. “Wh-Why are my stars disappearing? What’s going on? What did I do? H-How does Mammon have more stars than I do?!” That didn’t seem right to him, not at all. Mammon couldn’t possibly be doing better than him. He was going to sulk about it until his star count was at least above Mammon’s. Waking up at the end of the month and seeing you take the board down was probably the happiest he’s felt all month. He wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore, but also, now he knows 100% that it was you, and he’s got a lot of questions.

“S-So it was you… Why was Mammon doing better than me? How did you come up with it? Why is it called being a Good Noodle? Why did I lose stars? Please don’t do it ever again…”

Satan

He had walked right past it the day that it got put up, he didn’t even notice it at first. Lucifer was known to hang weird decorations in the living room, and most of the things that hung on the wall didn’t interest him, so clearly this new wall piece wouldn’t be a big deal to him either. His curiosity got the best of him though when he saw you looking at it. Now he was invested in the star board, checking it every single time he walked through the living room just to make sure he was ahead of Lucifer. That was the only thing that mattered to him now. Being ahead of Lucifer on the Noodle Board meant that he was essentially better than Lucifer, and that would mean he was winning. “You see that, Y/N… Lucifer is below me… It feels good. Whoever is running this board knows who the best brother is.” He was going to lose stars for that as soon as you started taking them away, but for now he was still receiving stars for helping you study and reading to you at night. Once the stars were taken away though, he had a lot of reasons for getting them taken. He didn’t straighten up his books and you constantly tripped over them whenever you visited him in his room. He was sassy as hell most of the time, and his constant berating of Lucifer was kind of irritating, especially since it was pretty well known that he hated the guy, he just felt the need to constantly say something about it. Stars were disappearing left and right from beside his name, and he couldn’t understand why, it was stressing him out way more than it should. “Lucifer is doing this! It’s because I was above him and he couldn’t handle it! Look how many stars I’ve lost! He’s jealous. He’s so jealous. That’s fine. I know I’m better than him.” This whole thing cracked you up. It was hysterical how mad he got. Finally explaining to him that you were the one who ran the board and that it was yours and Solomon's idea, he didn’t know if it was a relief or if it irritated him more.

“So this was… your idea… and Solomon’s…? Did you write a book report on our reactions? Did you have fun? Sure seems like you did. Glad you enjoyed it. Never again.”

Asmodeus

So when he first saw the Good Noodle Board, he initially thought that it meant… well… he thought that Noodle meant… dick, so it was really shocking that all of the brothers, including himself, had the same amount of stars, especially since he knew damn well that his noodle was the best. It wasn’t until he started getting stars after not doing anything sexual that he realized that the board wasn’t pertaining to having a good noodle, but being a good noodle, and that he as a whole is the noodle. It still wasn’t going to be hard for him though, he’s a good demon, he’s a sweetheart, he knows it. He didn’t have to do much to get stars either, he was just a happy guy who loved himself and everyone else. How could he not be raking in the stars with a personality like that? “Look at all those stars, Y/N! It’s not easy being a star, but whoever is running this board really understands that I’m the brightest star there is. They’re very smart.” He had no idea that stars could be taken away, apparently he assumed that stars were permanent once they went on the board. He couldn’t have been more wrong. He changed his outfit about 3 times a day, which meant that weekly laundry was way more than it should be and laundry detergent was going faster than food in the fridge when Beel was home. And some days… he’d wear certain lip glosses that stained every single glass that he drank out of, which wouldn’t really be a problem if you weren’t the one doing dishes and trying like hell to scrub those lip marks off. He didn’t lose a lot of stars for the last one, but every time you had to deal with it, he’d lose one star for the hours you scrubbed away at those glasses. “I think a couple of my stars fell off… which is weird because none of the other ones did. Do you think… do you think someone is taking my stars away? How could they do that? Hmph… And I thought they were smart. I guess not.” Finally telling him was like a weight off of his shoulders, he finally understood what the whole meaning of the board was and who was doing it. He became way more interested in it when he found out it was Solomon’s idea as well.

“So this whole thing was just an… experiment? And Solomon was in on it? I didn’t know you and Solomon hung out like that. Well, next time you do, tell me. I want to be in on your next idea.”

Beelzebub

He also, like Asmo, thought the Good Noodle Board meant something else, although his thought wasn’t anywhere near what Asmo thought. He just thought it meant how many good noodles the brothers had made, which is why he was unsure of why Belphie and… well… any of the other brothers had so many stars. Their noodle making skills were not very good. You didn’t want him to be in the dark, so without giving away too much information, you explained the meaning of the board. Earning stars was really easy for him, and you actually worried that he didn’t have enough space next to his name for all the stars that he got. He was just… a sweetheart, and he was always being good to everyone and he never got into trouble or did anything bad. You were running out of stars, but he was so happy to see how many stars he’d have at the end of the day, it was really sweet. “Look Y/N. Noodles are really good, and I guess I’m really good too. Cool, I’m like a really good noodle. Goodnight.” Taking away stars was almost as upsetting for you to do as it was for him to see. You knew he didn’t mean to be a bad noodle, but… He was eating the lunches that you packed for yourself and you were constantly running late to your classes because you’d have to repack your lunch and… Well he had to lose a star for that. He also kept leaving his gym bag in the middle of the main hallway when he came home and you’ve tripped over it several times. When he saw that his stars were able to be taken away he looked really upset, which kind of upset you. “Am I not a really good noodle? I wonder what I did… Y/N, do you know what I did? No… I’ll figure it out. I have to be a good noodle.” You were really relieved when it was finally over, for his sake. It was fun with all the others, but he was thinking too hard about it and you didn’t want him to have to worry about it anymore.

“Oh, so I’m still a good noodle? I did have more stars than anyone else… Do I ever get to know why I got the stars taken away though, because I still don’t want to be a bad noodle… Even if the board is gone.”

Belphegor

He didn’t come out of his room often enough to even notice the board was up. Beel actually had to tell him about it, and that was the only time he came downstairs wrapped in a blanket to look at the board. All he did was shrug though, he legitimately did not care about it at first. It was hard to give him stars because… he was never around? Can you give people stars for sleeping? You’d have to use the same system that you used for Levi. He came out of his room to eat meals with the rest of the house… he’d get a star. He actually showed up at his classes instead of “accidentally” sleeping through them? He’d get a couple more stars. When he’d come home he’d see the extra stars next to his name and shake his head, but you could tell he was confused as to why he was getting them. “I get stars for participating in things I don’t want to do? I don’t know if I actually want the stars… but somehow Mammon has a lot which is stupid, so I guess I’ll just keep doing whatever so I can be ahead of him… And Lucifer. Stupid Lucifer.” Taking away stars was a lot easier than you thought it would be. Sometimes when you’d try to wake him up in the morning to get to class he’d throw pillows at you until you went away, and he’d lose stars for that. Other times he’d willingly go to sleep in the middle of classes, or meal times even though you knew for a fact that he had a full night's sleep, he was just trying to be rude. He got stars taken away for those things… and many others. When he saw that most of the stars next to his name had been taken he was kind of pissed off. “So according to the Noodle Board… I’m worse than Mammon, and Lucifer. I call bullshit, this whole board is bullshit and I’m taking a nap.” He was very sassy and he generally avoided the board. He couldn’t have been happier when he saw that it was finally gone at the end of the month, and when you told him that it was yours and Solomon’s idea, he just laughed, so you didn’t really know what that meant.

“I knew it was you the whole time. Only you and Solomon could come up with an idea that would throw all of us off like that. I’d have enjoyed it if I wasn’t involved and I got to watch Lucifer suffer. But now I can finally sleep whenever and wherever I want, so, I’m glad it’s gone. Night.”

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sunsents · 3 years

Text

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out

Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3

Five Years Later, 2003

"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.

"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."

"I don't think her name is Stacey though."

You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.

"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."

Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.

Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.

You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.

Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.

The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.

Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.

You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."

Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."

Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.

"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."

You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.

After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.

The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.

You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.

After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.

"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."

She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.

You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"

Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."

"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.

Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.

You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.

Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.

People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.

Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.

Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.

Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.

"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.

"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.

You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.

Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.

"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."

"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.

The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.

Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"

"Auntie ____!"

A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-

"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."

The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.

Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.

“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.

You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.

Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”

Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.

“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.

Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”

A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.

“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”

Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.

It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.

And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.

His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.

His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.

His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.

You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.

He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.

Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.

“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”

You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.

Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.

You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.

You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.

“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.

“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.

You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”

He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”

“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?

It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”

George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“

“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.

“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.

Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!

And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.

You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.

He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.

It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.

The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.

“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.

Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.

He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”

You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.

“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.

You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues

Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”

“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.

Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”

“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”

Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.

Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”

Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.

Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.

Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.

Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)

Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.

He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.

You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.

He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.

You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight. This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.

“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.

“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.

You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.

You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”

And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.

“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.

“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.

Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.

“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”

“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.

You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.

“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”

“Wha-“

George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”

“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.

Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”

Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”

Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.

“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.

Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.

It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.

And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.

Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.

How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?

Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.

————————

When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.

Jambo’s no different.

So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.

You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.

Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?

It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.

Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.

And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.

What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?

Absolute blasphemy.

Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.

Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.

Of course your logic sucks.

Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.

Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.

Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.

A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.

You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”

You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.

“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.

Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”

Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.

You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.

But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?

The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.

He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-

Woah, down girl.

Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.

“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.

“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”

It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.

The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.

“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”

You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”

You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”

Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”

You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.

“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.

“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”

The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.

He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.

“Alright.” he says softly.

His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.

How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.

“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.

The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.

“Eva!”

Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”

You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”

Fred winces. “Actually-”

“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”

“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”

You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.

Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.

It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.

Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.

But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.

It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.

They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.

Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.

“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”

Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”

You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.

He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”

“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”

Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”

Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”

“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”

Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”

Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”

Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”

You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”

The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.

He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.

“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.

Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.

Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.

“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”

Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”

As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.

Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”

Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”

Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.

You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.

“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.

You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.

Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.

“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”

Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”

The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.

For a moment, you forget where you’re going.

Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.

Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.

Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.

You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.

You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.

Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.

You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.

“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.

“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.

“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”

You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”

George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”

When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.

The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.

Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support

“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.

Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.

You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.

“____!”

Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”

Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”

“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”

You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.

“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”

Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.” he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #hp smut #fluff #angst #hp angst #reader insert #george weasley #ginny weasley #hermione granger #harry potter

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shotorozu · 3 years

Note

HELLO, ok so I saw ur reqs are open so I zoomed, do you know that trend on tiktok where it goes ‘he was big and strong and his eyes are flaming glow’ LIKE BAKUGOU, KIRISHIMA AND TODOROKI’S S/O FORCING THEM TO DO IT FOR CLOUT bcs they’re beefed asf, and how their s/o would react too + the comments BAHDHJAH I HOPE THAT WASNT CONFUSING 😭😭 anyways take ur time and stay safe <33

big and strong

(tiktok trend)

character(s) : kirishima eijirou, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto

legend : [Y/N = your name] quirk not mentioned, they/them pronouns used

headcanon type : fluff and the mildest of spice ?? not nsfw and not overly spicy!!

note(s) : I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE‼️ kirishima would literally own this trend?? i saw an animation of kiri doing this and i PASSED AWAY—

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

kirishima eijirou

you hate using your relationship for clout on social media but,, you shall make exceptions

you saw this trend going around— and it’s literally the male equivalent of the ‘small waist, pretty face with a BIG BANK’ trend

and your mind immediately thought of your boyfriend, who would probably rock this challenge no pun intended

so you immediately rushed to eijirou, who was just chilling in his room— and you asked him kindly to do the trend

and he was like “oh, what trend—” then he saw the trend and went 🤠 I’LL DO IT WITH OR WITHOUT THE CHECK

no hesitation here.

so he does the challenge, and you’re like Σ੧(❛□❛✿) my boyfriend’s too hot wtf

he literally murdered the challenge, and he delivered so well. when i say murder, i mean blood everywhere

hand in marriage now! you’re just fawning over him for a good minute— bc you’re totally distracted.

then you upload the video, and you honestly thought it wouldn’t get any more than 50k on tiktok bc tiktok’s reach is just something else

but you open the app the next day, and it’s EXPLODING with hundreds of thousands of notifications from that one video

harboring 500k likes :0

and the comments are just like “is your boyfriend single?” “i have no words” “YOU’RE DATING HIM??” “he’s HOT and RESPECTFUL!!”

you show kiri the result of the video all excited like“you’re tiktok famous!!”

kiri’s just in awe. like.. people think he’s manly omg.

but he doesn’t look at the simp comments because he literally looked at one comment and ran 🏃‍♂️💨

“i appreciate those comments but i’m dating you, Y/N!” we love kirishima in this house.

bakugou katsuki

declined when you first asked him 😔

“wtf no, that’s weird.”

again, man is NOT on tiktok, and you cannot change my mind otherwise.

okay but don’t get me wrong, he’ll eventually do it— but you just need to bug him about it.

but then katsuki thought about it for a bit, and he thought about how you’d react— and then how you’d literally be all over him for a while

and he just went “okay, fine. i’ll do it just for that.”

he’ll tell you that he’ll do it, and you’re just so EXCITED 🤩

katsuki made you promise that you’ll only have it up for 5 days though :,) because he didn’t want it to be up on the internet FOREVER

but don’t get me wrong, you can keep the video.

you sit in the back, watching him film the tiktok— and you’re just experiencing some major WHIPLASH from the entire experience.

when he finished filming, you’re just there totally appalled— sitting there in silence 😳

he did it despite his conscience telling him not to, but at least he got a clingy Y/N for a while (he’ll say he hates it but omg he loves it.)

you upload it, and the next day IT BLOWS UP like— it really blows up.

i’d say maybe 750k likes and nearly 900k views.

the comments were mostly like “IS YOUR BOYFRIEND SINGLE??” and “WHERE DID YOU BUY HIM??”

bakugou being petty, responded to a simp comment with a video of him kissing your cheek lol. (that video got some attention too)

“i did that stupid challenge for you.” he’ll roll his eyes— “and i’m yours. so don’t think that those silly ass comments matter to me.”

when you privated the video, it had like 4.0m views 😔

todoroki shouto

you’re reluctant to ask him because again— shouto isn’t the most socially aware person??

and he’s not on tiktok either

but you figured that you should at least ask him, just so you could know if he hates the idea or not.

you ask him, and shouto’s response was just

kinda confused?? but he can— quite literally, see the shimmer in your eyes when you look at him

so he accepts

“..promise me you’ll give me lots of hugs and kisses afterwards.”

and an exchange was made

he’ll do it, and moments before the video ends— he’ll make a point to pull you into the frame and hug you, showing everyone that he’s taken

as he should

he still did the challenge though, and BOY did he execute it better than expected??

your face is buried in his chest like “my boyfriend’s so hot wtf” and shouto’s in heaven rn, don’t interrupt him.

you’ll upload the video before you go to sleep, and you’ll just let it sit, not thinking too much about it

then you wake up to 1M likes like.. wtf?? your notifications 💀

the comments are like “HE’S HOT!! but he has an s/o 😔” “the fact that he’s hot, and manages to look at them like that is.. BENXKALZ” “what store do they sell boyfriends like that?? i want one rn.”

and you show shouto like “!! you’re famous!!”

shouto doesn’t really care that much about being famous, and he just presses his face against you— mumbling something like “are you proud of me?”

ofcourse i am, shouto

shouto doesn’t really get the simp comments because he’s dating you?? why would he be flattered by compliments that aren’t from you?

“i’m glad you’re happy, love.” he smiles just watching you replay the tiktok over and over again “however, i can definitely show you more.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i do not profit off of my hobby.

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, and use my work for audio readings without my permission :))

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kimnamshiks · 3 years

Text

Show Me A Good Time

Pairing: Hyunjin x Female Reader (ft. voyeur Minho)

Genre: Smut, Light humor

Rating: Explicit

WC: 2.2k+

Tags: Smut, accidental voyeurism turned voyeurism, light humor

Summary: Seeing you make his best friend so happy never ceases to make him happy and vice versa. He loves seeing love in all forms; though this may be seeing you and Hyunjin’s love just a bit too much to be appropriate. Maybe Minho will remember to close his doors fully next time.

"Hyu-- Honey.." your soft voice filtered up into the air along with an airy moan, echoing.

"Yeah? Is it good?" Hyunjin's voice answered yours in a low tone. “That good? Baby my sheets are getting so dirty because of you~”

Minho was confused, groggy from sleep. The clock glared an obnoxious light of numbers, changing to 3:01 am. Was he dreaming? Maybe he's in a weird alternative middle ground again or something… It wasn't often he would have suggestive dreams regarding his roommate and his roommate's girlfriend. But it can happen; seeing them be so cute and happy together with the silly banter, inappropriate comments do happen also. The soft, slick sounds of kissing and slurping on the other hand were too high and sharp to be his dream-lagged mind. (Possibly… He does have a habit of daydreaming) He rubbed at his eyes as he was going to get up but a sharp moan stopped him in his tracks.

His eyesight came into a sharp focus towards the bathroom since it was between the rooms connecting them both in a roommate suite. His door was slightly ajar as Hyunjin's was open. Completely open with a reflection of the bedside lamp, Hyunjin’s room was … Giving Minho a full view of the activity going on with you and Hyunjin.

Of you two in bed preparing to fuck. Heavens why did you two have to go at it at this hour? Do you two not know how to sleep?

You were breathless against the gray cotton sheets, body shiny with a thin layer of sweat in a sweet arch that he didn’t think was comfortable but you could care less about. Another moan rippling from your lips as your legs slid further down on the bed. Hyunjin himself just seemed to be in his boxers for the time being but his body also had a layer of sweat to match, hair wet, and sorta curled up at the ends. A shift and you moaned hard for him.

Fading pink and mostly blonde hair shifted as the male lifted his head to tilt it innocently. “You have to be quiet sweetheart. Do I need to keep your mouth occupied?”

A view of your head thrown back from the pleasure Hyunjin was giving between your legs, his grip tight enough on the inner part of your thighs. The way your hips tried to roll against the male’s face or fingers but was stopped when his grip adjusted to press your hips against the bed more. Minho could tell Hyunjin was looking up at your face with that grin he loved to use when he was particularly enjoying the torture. The blonde didn’t have his mouth on you right now in combination, for the fingers quickly going in and out of your wet core were doing wonders he was guessing. He mentally thought how long Hyunjin was down there lapping at the juices coating his hand. Or if Hyunjin has already made you cum once or twice.

“Maybe if you would just… Fuckin’ gimme..” Your voice waivers from another plunge of Hyunjin’s fingers into you, gripping his free hand to immediately shove a couple of fingers into your mouth.

The male’s mouth dropped open at the same time Hyunjin spluttered your name in a whimper. You flicked your tongue around three of his fingers sloppily, slurping and making Hyunjin stop to focus on punishing your mouth. You took it in stride as more spittle fell onto your chest with a muffled groan. He pressed down harshly to make you open your mouth wide, even rubbing the pad of his fingers onto your tongue.

“Mm ready Hyunnie. M’ready now.'' He watched you plead, in that whiny voice you reserve to try and get what you want once your mouth was free.

The male mimicked you as he sat up to look down at you. He demanded you to say it again. With lips shiny from spit your mouth opened again to repeat yourself. And again. And again, the tone turned just that tad more demanding that Minho’s own body heated up in response.

Minho always caved under it no matter what you asked for when you got petulant. (He was weak for you and he believed his best friend knew it too.) This was going in his spank bank, he’ll feel guilty about it later. He slid his hand into his boxers and gripped himself, biting his lip hard to keep his noise of satisfaction at bay, realizing he was already leaking enough pre-cum to make the slide against his dick easier. He should feel guilty but right now he was too hard, his mind on wanting to watch you two until the end.

“Are you darling? Think you’re soaked enough?” a hummed out question, probably rhetorical. Hyunjin didn’t even let you answer before he continued, “Maybe you can have it now if you ride me pretty. Can you do that?”

Minho gyrated his hips into his hand lightly, eyes taking in everything as you pulled your boyfriend in for a deep kiss. Groans and whimpers being swallowed by each other. Fuck… What he wouldn't give to see you on top of his cock, letting him sink deep into the most intimate parts of your beautiful body and carve his shape in. Kiss and mark your skin besides Hyunjin’s finger bruises.

Hyunjin pulled back with a satisfied sigh at your drenched core and brought his hand down to his aching dick to ready himself. Wrapping his fingers to coat around the dripping head, down the slight curve to the base for a quick squeeze with a harsh moan of your name. Both you and Minho watched; you more so turned on and ready but he did more to assess it.

Not to say his best friend has a pretty dick… But Minho thinks it’s a pretty dick to match his pretty best friend indeed. So pretty he wondered if you were going to stretch your lips around it.

Do you deep throat? Do you tease with kisses and avoid his arousal completely? Would you let Hyunjin fuck your mouth as you gag with spittle and cum sliding down your face? Or maybe you two kiss after you take his load?

He was glad his free hand was in front of his face due to holding back a whimper. His hips kicking into the tight fist of his hand, his eyes were drinking in your frame as you sink slowly onto Hyunjin’s lap, thighs drenched in your juices that the squelching sound echoed loudly.

“Nngh-- Finally I’ve been waiting for this all day. It’s so good.”

Your hands glide up your body with the first roll of your hips onto Hyunjin’s with a pace that screams payback. The slow and dirty kind, the grind so hard that you had Hyunjin bruising up your thighs and hips with the tight hold on your body.

He looked up your frame with love and teasing, voice coming out in a broken husk “Come on baby you said you waited for this--”

Minho slowed the movement of his hand over his cock, following along with what seemed to be a hell of a ride. He snuck some extra lube into his hand for the easier glide and to not cum so early.

"I did say that didn't I?", a hiccuping giggle left your throat as your loving boyfriend kicked his hips up. "It's my turn to have a l-little fun too." Your lips left little blooming marks upon the slate of salty skin and lean muscle as you rode him slowly. Sometimes your hips would leave Hyunjin’s so you could look at him twitch, shiver from the cooler air on his heated skin then drop down hard onto his cock yet again.

You alternated this for a while and caressed your body, sighing from a particular roll or whimpering when the blonde sped up the pace for a bit. Minho was drooling onto his pillow and his own skin was hot and sweaty in its rising temperature. His best friend caresses and gropes where he can reach as he praises you. “Feeling good?”

“Mmm yea, roll your hips just.. just like that.”

“Squeezing me like you don’t want me to leave you, that’s fucking hot--”

You squeezed around him when you raised up before dropping down so hard that you watched blonde hair fly back in undeniable pleasure-- what you didn't expect was the loud ass THWACK to resonate in the room. Hyunjin groans (in a non-sexy way, that’s gonna leave a bump--) while holding the back of his head and wiggling underneath you. Curses flew from both of you as it made you laugh loudly.

"Honey! Aaaha--" a wheeze "Honey are you ok--" another wheeze "Okay? Fuck that sounded like it hurt.."

"Pussy so good I lost my head for a second there--" he hissed out. His eyes were closed tightly, grin goofy despite the obvious pain with him slapping at the air in your direction, "You're loud! Don't wake up Minho!" But your cackling echoed into Minho’s room too.

Said male was stifling his laughter into his pillow, heart full watching you two take care of the situation while laughing. Knowing that you'd stop everything to check on your boyfriends’ well being made a little envy burn in his chest, but he pushed that away when his dick throbbed from you guys laughing again.

Really dick? At a time like this? Laughing shouldn’t be sexy you know--

"If your damn headbang didn't wake him up before my laughter then I dunno what to tell you."

A gentle ass smack here, "Cheeky brat!"

"Who's being loud now~? You want Minho to hear you?" You questioned the blonde, not missing the way his cock jerked against your walls.

"Oh?" The may you said that to Hyunjin had Minho’s hand grabbing his dick tight yet again, playing at the base near his sack.

Now he sees that you guys changed positions so Hyunjin's head was at the bottom of the bed, feet touching the headboard. His best friend looked sheepish when you placed a pillow underneath his head. You still cooing at him and massaging his scalp while talking to him; agreeing that it would be a slow sex night after all. Exchanging a few deep kisses, Minho's rapidly paying attention again when Hyunjin goes to lay back down. Your hips sinking down onto Hyunjin’s cock (which was still hard... Minho wonders yet again if his friend likes pain--) moving back to its up and down motion. Occasionally he'd play with his tip and sigh, eyes starting to slip closed…

"Don't think I missed that little tidbit, Hyunjin.."

Hyunjin moaned your name high from his throat when you scratched down his chest, "Miss wh--"

A slow corner smirk appeared, nonchalance lacing every word. "The fact that your dick twitched when I said Minho's name."

Hyunjin's face was red with a wide-eyed stare towards you, not knowing how to proceed with that. Minho in his bed was wide-eyed to match, ears heated in surprise and cock weeping just a bit more at that thought. Fuck did Hyunjin find him attractive sexually too?

"We'll be able to talk about that later. Hm?" You pant and grind harder, "Wanna be loud next time for your best friend then too. Maybe he can join--"

Hyunjin's moan was even higher this time, gripping your waist hard with a blown outlook as you leaned back to ride. Legs spread farther so his cock could reach even deeper into your body. When his hips began to meet yours you felt euphoric, his tip kissing your g-spot with ease now. It was deeper but still a leisurely pace.

Minho forwent that pace and was trying his best to stay quiet as he fucked his fist again, his other hand sliding under his shirt to tug his hard nipples. His mind produced so many scenarios of how he'd have you bent over, folded, split on his cock while he kissed you over and over again.

A tremble skittered up into your chest, mouth running off now. "O-Oh? You'd like that babe? Would you watch him fuck me?"

"Shhhiiit yes…" he groaned deep, his face still sporting that strawberry hue on his sweaty skin. "Wanna see your lips around his cock--"

"I wanna see yours around his cock too, Jinnie. Minnie wouldn't know what to do--"

Both of you were whimpering and moaning loudly, uncaring of the noise level now that you two were so deep into the pleasure that clouded minds. Minho listened, his own soft whines joining into the fray of noise. How you two talked about the positions, the possibility of whose mouth did what to his body, or what fingers went where. Even how every surface of the house would be a new surface to fuck on if he did accept the proposal.

Yes yes, I would accept. He thought, hand blurring over his cock as his orgasm began to coil. Tugging his puffy nipples, a look of bliss casts over his face at the mere thought of the chance. He imagined him getting his cock rode by Hyunjin, you by their side as you marked his neck or kissed him filthy. As the two of you played with him, making his voice reach pitches he never thought of. Hyunjin's shout of your name as he came, made Minho crash through his orgasm with a low and long whine; a combination of both your names like a prayer. He was still riding out his high when you came a bit after with Hyunjin’s name on your lips.

All three of you were spent, Minho staying still and suddenly sleepy again. You slumped over Hyunjin’s side and shared tired kisses while wiping each other down with baby wipes. He should clean up before he had a bigger mess in the morning but he was drifting off to your voice murmuring jokes and Hyunjin’s squeaky laugh.

With his mind fizzed out he succumbed to sleep, he dreamed of hand holding and chaste kisses this time. Shy smiles and embarrasing laughter on outings with his favorite two people in the world.

The clean up is for future Minho anyways, he’s gonna enjoy his nutting experience to the fullest.

Future Minho would like to beat up Past Minho’s ass. Since Future Minho was stuck with the embarrassment of being woken up by you giggling over the mess in his bed; making some excuse of a pretty good ass dream. Curse you Past Minho! Curse you!

#hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #stray kids ff #hyunjin ff #hyunjin oneshot #stray kids oneshot #hyunjin

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rebel-in-white · 3 years

Text

Sam Wilson’s Feelings Towards Bucky Barnes

In this meta, I’m arguing that Sam Wilson, as he is portrayed in the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, has romantic feelings for Bucky Barnes. Before you think I’m overreaching and reading too much into this show, read on and think about the evidence I’m going to present. Could a simple friendship explain the differences in Sam’s interactions with other characters versus his interactions with Bucky?

Disclaimer: I’m not saying that Disney is going to show us a homosexual couple. Honestly, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’m not accusing anyone of queerbaiting either. I don’t want to enter into that argument. I just believe that Sam Wilson is a man in love with another man.

Sam’s Demeanor with Bucky:

In episode 1, we have a delightful scene between Sam and Torres, who seems to genuinely admire Sam. After taking a video of Sam speaking Arabic, the impressed Torres makes a few light comments. Sam responds with a smile but maintains a serious demeanor and cracks minimal jokes. He doesn’t relax or drop his guard. Compare that to his drastic change in attitude in episode 2. After only spending 3 minutes with Bucky, he’s talking about wizards and sorcerers and something about hats.

And he’s always joking around with Bucky. He doesn’t let himself do that with other characters on the show, not even his own sister. This shows that with Bucky, Sam feels like he can relax more. For some reason, he feels safe with Bucky to show his true self.

Sam checks on him, constantly

In episode 1, we find out that Sam has texted Bucky post blip several times. Enough times that Bucky’s therapist, Dr. Raynor, uses that to gauge how well Bucky is connecting with other people. She admonishes him for ignoring Sam’s texts. In episode 3, we find out that Sam hasn’t given Sharon the same treatment. He hasn’t texted or called her, despite the fact that she had placed her career on the line for him, Steve, and Bucky. His only concern was Bucky and to see how he was doing.

Not only did he text Bucky, but Sam is periodically checking on his state of mind and well being, showing genuine concern and care.

“You good?”

“What’s going on in that Cyborg brain of yours?”

Again, we don’t see him check on other characters like this. Bucky gets special treatment.

Sam lets Bucky do what he wants

The keyword here is lets. Sam lets Bucky do whatever the f*ck he wants to do because he’s weak in the face of Bucky’s desires and demands. Sam can be very stubborn, he’s just subtle with it. In the show, he refuses to give up on the boat, refuses to give into his sister’s demands, and tries to think of solutions for this problem. That bank scene not only hints at the consequences of the blip and other social issues, but it highlights Sam’s intelligence and determination. When he wants something, he will work hard to get it. That’s why he survived so long as Steve’s partner-in-crime when they were on the run. And he still hasn’t given up on the boat.

Yet, we see this intelligent, stubborn man cave into Bucky over and over again. First, Bucky wants to come with him on the mission in episode 2. Sam says no, but Bucky is sitting with him on the plane in the next scene. If Sam truly didn’t want Bucky to come, he wouldn’t have let him come. He isn’t a pushover- he gave up Steve’s shield because he couldn’t stand the idea of being the new Captain America. Some other examples: Sam lets Bucky go in to see Zemo alone and goes along with his plan to use Zemo’s connections to find out more about the super-soldier serum.

Sam keeps touching Bucky’s metal arm

He’s touched Bucky’s metal arm a total of three times. The first time, after rolling in the flowers, he lets his hand rest on it. This is almost a comforting gesture, one that is entirely unnecessary, but the camera lingers on the touch for a few seconds. Next, in the therapy scene, he pointedly slaps Bucky’s vibranium arm. In episode 3, Sam protectively grabs Bucky when he sees that the danger has increased in the bar. The touch helps snap Bucky out of his Winter Soldier mode.

This shows a fascination with what makes Bucky different and dangerous, which could be the type of people Sam’s attracted to sexually. Let’s not forget that Sam had expressed physical attraction towards Black Widow, who is the embodiment of sensuality and danger. Sam Wilson has a type, and Bucky fits it.

Sam calls Bucky “Buck”

It’s the nickname Steve had for Bucky, and it’s interesting that Sam seems a little bothered when Bucky says he couldn’t use it.

“Why not? It’s what Steve called you?”

“Steve knew me longer. And Steve had a plan.”

Sam rolls his shoulders, a gesture of discomfort. He says, “I have a plan.” Almost like he wanted to say, now, can I call you “Buck,” too? It’s also very illuminating to hear this nickname when Sam’s afraid for Bucky’s life in episode 3:

[Gunshots]

“Buck!” Sam yells.

The nickname shows a deeper level of intimacy between Sam and Bucky, something that Sam wants. That’s why he uses it, remarks on Steve having used it, and continues to use it.

Sam lets himself argue with Bucky

Again, the keyword here is lets. Sam is a very controlled person. I’ve read numerous posts about all the things that Sam has to deal with - blip, institutionalized racism, Captain America’s mantle, that mantle being given to a lesser suited individual, losing his boat, losing his friends, and losing the connection with his family. Yet, Sam holds himself together very well. He doesn’t break dangerous criminals out of prison (looking at you Bucky), and he tries to follow his values in a world that is making less and less sense to him.

Yet, with Bucky Barnes, he allows himself the freedom to argue with him. They argue in episode 2 numerous times, but I’m going to focus on the argument in episode 3. I loved that random back-and-forth in the middle of a fight scene. I cannot picture Sam doing something like that with Steve, and he definitely wouldn’t argue like that with anyone else. With Bucky, we see Sam let his guard down to bicker and voice his immediate feelings and thoughts. We don’t see this happen with anyone else! He’s usually more guarded with his true thoughts and emotions.

What does Bucky feel?

Unfortunately, I don’t see clear evidence that Bucky reciprocates his feelings. There’s evidence that some feelings are forming (I have high hopes for the pulling Sam’s hand closer to his chest scene!), and the genuine bond is there. As of now, Sam’s feelings run deeper. It’s understandable because Bucky is a man in transition. He doesn’t know who he is, and we can see that struggle in some small details here and there: for example, when Sam wedges his thigh between his in the therapy scene, Bucky places his hands over his crotch in an insecure position. Sam, on the other hand, is relaxed and secure in his identity. Bucky is still struggling to adjust to the modern world when he’s a 1940s man at heart. Plus, there’s Steve. According to Sharon, Bucky was “Mr. America” (LOL). He needs more time to solidify himself and his feelings.

Where did these feelings come from?

Sexual attraction (sexy and dangerous is Sam’s type)

Bucky is probably the only person in his life who makes sense. Everything else is so different and difficult.

He was Steve’s close friend, and Sam loved and respected Steve.

Bucky ignites his protective instincts. Bucky emphasizes this when he says that Sam gave up so much for him. (Interesting that Bucky doesn’t mention Steve, who wanted to save his best friend and helped to convince his current friend to help him do that.)

Perhaps, Bucky reminds him of Riley (would love to see a Riley flashback)

He feels a connection to the loneliness he sees in Bucky. Despite the people in his life and his natural charisma, Sam strikes me as a solitary figure.

Ultimately, we still know very little about Sam and Bucky, and we have three episodes left of the show, so many things can change! Hopefully, the change will be good for this ship.

I hope you enjoyed this meta. Thank you for reading!

#sambucky #samandbucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #meta #essay #the falcon and the winter soldier meta

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ghostbustermelanieking · 3 years

Note

For the AU-Jon wakes up from his coma before Martin accepts Peter's offer?

1. Oliver Banks comes sooner. No one knows why it happens this way, but this is the way it happens, and it mostly goes the same. Georgie shows up, Oliver leaves, and Jon starts to breathe again. It all just happens earlier.

Basira doesn’t tell Martin right away, when Georgie shows up. He’s taken this whole thing so hard, and it might be nothing, it might be nothing at all. She resolves to call him as soon as they have more details—when she has a hold on the whole situation.

2. This happens only two days after Peter has made his offer. He gave Martin a few days to “think it over,” and Martin still hasn’t come to a clear decision. (He thinks that the decision should be obvious—should be—but he isn’t that brave, and he’s never been the hero, and the decision seems impossibly stupid at times, and what if—what if Jon wakes up?)

Peter’s offer is still sitting like a stone in his mind, and he’s halfway considering visiting Jon, for some grasp at clarity—or maybe an attempt to say goodbye—when Basira texts, tells him to come to the hospital. She doesn’t offer many more details besides that, and Martin is out of the Institute and in a cab before there is even time to consider what this might mean. He halfway wants to call Basira up and press for information. The thing that sticks in his mind—the thing he thinks it must be—is that Jon is dead. Jon has finally died, and Basira’s called him there to say goodbye—and that just makes him want to press Basira even more, to demand answers, because what if he’s heading to the hospital with even a glimmer of hope and it turns out to be the exact opposite…

(Or what if—what if he’s awake? What if he’s alive?)

Martin doesn’t let himself hope. Doesn’t know how to. He keeps going over the possibilities—He’s probably dead, or worse—keeps reapproaching Peter’s plan—If Jon’s dead, I’ll have to take it, it’s the least I can do for the others, what will I have keeping me here then… He goes straight to the hospital, and up to Jon’s floor—the nurses know him, and wave him on through—down the halls to Jon’s familiar room, to Jon’s door, all the while bracing himself for bad news.

3. Basira is waiting by the door, and she looks up when Martin comes down the hall. “What’s happened?” Martin snaps, immediately. “What’s going on? Is he—” His throat closes at the prospect of finishing that sentence; he can’t do it, can’t say it…

Basira’s expression is closed off enough that Martin can’t read it, can’t tell if it’s bad news. But then she says, “He’s awake,” and the force of it is like a gut punch, nearly bending Martin in half. His hand immediately shoots for the door, and Basira puts an arm out as if to stop him. “Martin. It isn’t what you think.”

“What is it, then?” Martin snaps, and he yanks the door open, the word pushing out of his mouth entirely of his own accord—”Jon…”

Jon is awake. Jon is sitting up in bed, with a crumpled statement in his lap, and a tape recorder running on the side table, and Martin can’t breathe. Jon looks almost exactly the same as he has for months now, except that he’s awake and alive and looking at Martin. “Martin?” he says—a lot of emotions crammed into this one word—and Martin doesn’t know what to say, can’t get past the reality of Jon actually saying his name.

“Martin, you’re… here,” Jon says, quietly, the statement crumpling in his hand. “I-I didn’t know if… you’re all right?”

Martin starts to cross the room slowly, to the chair he’s more or less grown accustomed to sitting in when he’s visited. He hasn’t said anything yet—hasn’t found the words—and Jon is still talking. “I wasn’t sure if… y-your plan, Elias, Basira hasn’t… hasn’t filled me in, and I… you’re all right? You aren’t hurt, are you? Martin?”

Martin shakes his head numbly as he sits. Looks down at the bed and almost reaches for Jon’s hand—a long running habit, this isn’t his first visit, they’ve become as routine as anything—but he stops himself. He doesn’t know if Jon would want that. Maybe Jon never would have wanted that.

“You, er,” Jon begins, stops. He takes a slow breath, and his voice sounds remarkably well put-together, even after months of disuse. “It’s, uh. It’s good to see you here, Martin.”

Martin chokes a little. “Jon?” he says—he isn’t sure he has the words for anything else—and he looks up, and Jon is looking back at him—something unreadable in his eyes, something almost like affection, maybe—and one of them, or maybe both of them, move before Martin even knows what is happening. Martin jerks forward, and so does Jon, and then they’re embracing, leaning over the bed, Jon’s fingers digging into Martin’s shoulders, Jon’s heart thudding in his chest—Martin can feel it now. And he doesn’t bother to stop himself from crying anymore. He just holds onto Jon—Jon, awake, Jon, alive, Jon's head on his shoulder—and keeps telling himself, over and over again, that it’s all okay, it can all be okay now.

4. Jon ends up staying with Martin. It makes sense—Jon doesn’t have a flat, and neither do the others—Basira and Melanie have been living in the Archives, and Georgie hasn’t said anything to either of them since the hospital (Martin has still never met her). But Martin still has a flat. And Jon deserves better than a cot, after months of hospital beds, so Martin offers to let him stay, and Jon agrees.

The marvel of it is too much—after months of quiet in the Archives, months of growing apart from Melanie and Basira, months of isolation and feeling lost, months of Jon being asleep… the reality of Jon standing in his kitchen, Jon drinking tea at his dining room table, is genuinely overwhelming. There’s a dozen things Martin wants to say without knowing if he should, a dozen things he wants to explain. Basira filled him in on most of the important things, but they haven’t gotten a chance to talk about any of them, and there’s even more things Martin wants to say, if he knew how to say them. He wants to talk to Jon about how much he’s missed Tim—how much of his mind has been stuck in the reality of that first year, when Tim was alive and Sasha was alive, and aside from Jon sort of hating him, everything mostly being all right. He wants to tell Jon about how much he’s missed him, when he was asleep—wants to say all the things he’s been able to say to Elias and a goddamn tape recorder, but not to Jon himself. He wants to tell Jon about his mum. He wants to tell Jon he visited every single week, sometimes two or three times. He wants to talk about how horrible this all has been, and what they do next, how they move on from this, because he genuinely does not know. He wants to talk about all of it.

He wants to tell Jon about Peter’s offer, and he wants Jon to tell him not to take it. Because a part of him still thinks he needs to take it. He thinks about Peter’s warnings, and his promises to keep them all safe. And yes, Jon is awake now, but shouldn’t that be even more reason to take it? To keep Jon safe, too, now that he’s awake and can be put in danger? And there’s still the others, in the same danger they would’ve been before, and they deserve to be safe, too—and Martin isn’t the hero by a long shot, but he wants to be, wants to do something more to make a difference besides lighting some fires while Tim and Jon went off to die. He wants to make the noble decision, even if it will be a thousand times harder with Jon here in front of him. But he also wants Jon to talk him out of it.

Martin doesn’t say any of this to Jon, because he can’t. Not with everything Jon’s been through—in a coma for months, how selfish can Martin be? He makes tea, and he sits at the kitchen table with Jon, and he answers Jon’s questions about what he’s missed, and he tries not to think about Peter’s offer. The urgency in his voice that was probably a lie. He keeps getting paranoid that Peter will see him sitting here with Jon (Peter is not Elias), and that Peter will insist that he can’t be doing this, that he’s breaking their agreement (except Martin never agreed), and then try to tell Martin that the deal is forfeit now, and it’s too late. And it’s absurd, because Martin doesn’t want to take the deal—except he’s scared about what not taking it might mean. Scared about how this will all end, scared that if he doesn’t take the deal that something will happen—and what if Jon (or Melanie, or Basira) die and it’s because of him, because he turned down this chance? Except that he was only going to take it because Jon wasn’t ever going to wake up, and now he’s here, and how can Martin leave now, after everything?

There is simultaneously too much and not enough to talk about, and Jon doesn’t seem to know how to initiate it either, so they talk about nothing. They end up on the couch, flipping through the television channels, and Jon asks some lighthearted questions about what he’s missed on TV shows Martin didn’t even know he watched. It’s easy enough to make that kind of small talk, over other kinds, and it’s enough to get them both laughing a little. They stay on the couch for a long time. (Martin halfway expects Jon to be tired, to need to get more sleep—and halfway decides to leave a couple of times, an attempt to give Jon space, before deciding in the other direction—but Jon never mentions needing sleep, and Martin guesses if he was sleeping for months on end, he probably wouldn’t be tired, either. So he stays on the couch with Jon.)

At some point, they do start talking: about Tim, about the missing months, about how hard everything has been. Martin doesn’t bring up the thing with Peter, not yet, but he talks about all the rest. (The tremor in Jon’s voice when he tells Martin he’s sorry about his mother is almost too much to take. There’s still a lot Martin hasn’t talked about yet.) Martin tries to find the balance—he doesn’t want to put too much onto Jon, with everything Jon’s been through, he can’t do that—but he’s honest, too. He says, I… I missed you, Jon. We all did—but I… He says, It’s been… bad. Hard. While you’ve been gone, and he tries not to think about how often Jon was gone, before the Unknowing; how far Jon pulled away after Prentiss. They had time—limited time—between America and the Unknowing, but then Jon was asleep, and now—if Martin takes Peter’s deal; if Jon has to leave again…

Jon takes a sharp breath. The room is dark, and Martin isn’t looking at him, but he feels it when Jon, tentatively, takes his hand. (Like a dozen nights in his hospital room except Jon’s awake and his hand is warm, his pulse beating against Martin’s thumb, and Jon initiated it, and it’s all okay now.) “Well,” says Jon, uncertain and reassuring all at once, somehow. “I’m… I’m here now. And I don’t know how much help I’ll really be, with… everything. But Martin, I promise… I-I’m not going anywhere. Not anytime soon.”

5. And Martin decides, in that moment, and in the moments after, and in the email he writes out the next morning, in frank, firm language. He decides then. Jon is back, and there has to be another way out, a way that they can figure it out together. So Martin doesn’t take Peter’s deal.

(send me an au and i'll give you 5+ headcanons)

#i sort of hate this but!! here it is #tma au #tma fic #i wrote this

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fanficimagery · 3 years

Text

Five Years After

Imagine going to the feed store for your sister, only you come home with more than just feed for the animals.

Words: 5.1K Author’s Note: The ending of this imagine was definitely inspired by a TikTok video :)

When the Blip happened, you were in complete disbelief. Chaos erupted all around as planes fell from the sky and automobiles crashed because their drivers had vanished into thin air. Everyone was a complete mess as they attempted to call loved ones, their calls going straight to voicemail or being answered by another family member that were having to deliver the bad news of a disappearance.

Your only living relative was your sister Laura and her children she had with her husband Clint, so when one of your co-workers and a handful of your customers vanished into thin air, your first call had been to your ex-Avenger of a brother-in-law. Unfortunately Clint was just as clueless as you and the phone had nearly slipped from your hand when he gave you the news that Laura and the kids had vanished. You had nowhere to go and were so scared because of the looting that had started, so Clint told you to pack your things and get to the farm as soon as possible.

You'd only been on the farm for a full day before Clint's friends came looking for him. Natasha, who you had met after your sister had married Clint, greeted you with a rather solemn hug. It was Steve Rogers, however, who attempted to introduce himself with as much joy as he possibly could in order to be polite.

You had shaken his hand, smiling sadly. "You don't need to force a smile for me, Rogers. The circumstances suck. I get it."

That had surprisingly pulled a short laugh from Natasha. "See, Steve? Told you she wouldn't be expecting the Man with a Plan."

Steve and Natasha had proceeded to stay for the duration of the day, telling Clint all about a fight that had taken place in Wakanda and who out of their friends had vanished. It was a devastating blow and you had no idea how everyone was going to cope. Then soon after the two Avengers had left, Clint went into overdrive. He was making phone calls left and right, packing bags and weapons, and you were at a complete loss.

You had decided to leave him be and it was only the following morning when you woke to an empty house did you find the letter on the kitchen counter. In the letter he had apologized for leaving you after everything that had happened, but went on to explain that there were criminals still out there who had survived the Blip when others who were sin-free didn't. He couldn't leave them be while people like his wife and children were no longer alive, so to work through his aggression he was going to hunt those criminals down. Fortunately enough, he left you in possession of the farm-house and made it so you were able to access his bank accounts. He told you not to look for him or get the others involved, so you waited a whole day before contacting Natasha and telling her all about Clint's derailment.

Clint left no trail, leaving you all alone. Or so you thought.

With Clint's vanishing act, Natasha and Steve made you their responsibility. They made sure you knew they were only a call or email away, but only after Nat drove down to give you some technological devices since the regular power grid was fluctuating. Since Earth lost half its population, everything seemed to be falling apart.

Then Tony Stark was brought back home and the world seemed a little bit brighter.

For years you drifted, working at a grocery store in town to keep yourself busy. The Blip took a toll on everyone, but it was nice to have to talk to someone even if the other person moved on autopilot. Clint sent an email every other month from a burner email, so it was a dead end every time Natasha looked into it after you had forwarded it to her. And about the only news-worthy thing that had happened after the Blip was the announcement of Tony and Pepper Stark's baby girl Morgan. You didn't know the Stark's personally, but it didn't stop you from sending their little girl a present every year on her birthday for the next five years on behalf of yourself and the Barton family.

One morning you're sitting at the breakfast table when you hear the telltale sounds of a jet overheard. You figure it's just Natasha and Steve for their monthly check-in so you think nothing of it.

The screen door creaks open and you call out, "In the kitchen!"

The steps of what sounds like more than one person falter, but then they pick back up until they near your location. "Got enough for another plate?" That oh so familiar timber makes you spew orange juice across the table. You're up and out of your seat, staring at your brother-in-law who's a lot more tatted up than you remember him being. "Hey, sis."

Tony Stark stands just a couple feet to Clint's right, but his presence isn't enough to deter you from marching up to your brother-in-law and punching his shoulder. "You asshole!" You punch him again for good measure as tears sting your eyes. "You left me. You left me all alone! How could you-"

He dodges your continuous blows, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from attacking him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but I'm here now. It's all going to be okay." The fight instantly drains out of you as you sag into his embrace, sob after sob leaving you as you clutch to him tightly.

Clint tightens his grip a little more around you until your cries turn into sniffles. "What- what are you doing here?"

"Lang came up with a plan to bring our people back." You tense in Clint's arms and pull back to look him in the eyes. "Banner and Stark made the machines necessary to make the plan work. We're going to bring 'em home. We're going to bring 'em all home, Y/N."

"Please tell me you aren't joking," you mumble.

"Nope. No joke," Tony says. "It's not a total guarantee, but we're going to try our best." You let go of Clint and turn to look at Tony who's standing by the stove and picking at the leftover scrambled eggs. "Mmm. These are good. What'd you put in them?"

"Uhh, just butter and cheese."

"Morgan would absolutely love these. She's on this whole cheese kick right now."

That earns a chuckle, and after gathering yourself you look back at Clint. "So what's going to happen now?"

"The team's getting ready for a test run," Clint says. "I just wanted to let you know I was home and that we had a really important mission coming up."

"How soon?"

"Today if the test run goes good," Tony says. He pours himself half a glass of juice before downing it in one go. "And speaking of, we need to go."

You look at Clint, a little let down that he's leaving so soon, but he grins and pulls you back into a hug. "It's going to be okay." You nod against him and he lets his arms drop before he steps back. He looks around the kitchen and his grin widens. "You've kept up good with the house. I'm impressed."

"I should hope so," you mumble. "I had to flirt with the hardware store boy so he'd help me keep the house from falling apart."

Clint laughs. "You did good, Y/N. Laura will be proud."

"Yeah, yeah. Now go bring my sister, niece, and nephews back."

"You got it, boss."

- - - - - - - - - -

You're grateful for the day off because it leaves you with time to clean the house from top to bottom. You need some way to burn off all your anxiousness and making sure the house looks good for your sister is one hell of a way to do just that.

You're not sure how long you'd been cleaning when you decide to take a break, and you head outside for some fresh air. You walk off the porch and onto the grass, tilting your face skyward as you inhale and exhale softly, your eyes closing. One moment all you can hear is the wind ruffling tree limbs and grass, and the next it's a cacophony of chirping birds.

Your eyes fly open and you're shocked to see the swarms of birds flying around in the sky. Sure there have been birds around after the Blip, but you've never seen so many together since then. You're too busy staring up into the sky that you don't see what appears to be ash take formation behind you.

"Aunt Y/N?" The timid voice makes your heart stop before you whirl around, your eyes widening at the sight of Lila glancing around in shock. "What's going on? Where's dad?"

"Lila?" You breathe out in awe. You stumble towards her, eyes glistening with tears. "They did it. They actually did it." You pull her into a hug, cries stuttering in your chest. As you hug her, you glance towards the open field where you see Laura appear, followed by Nathaniel and then Cooper. "Laura!"

You grip Lila's hand tight as the both of you break out into a run towards the rest of your family, you and Laura colliding with twin oomphs. The two of you are crying as Laura tries to work out what the hell happened and where Clint is, but before you can explain anything she's pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing Clint's number. As she worries about getting her husband on the phone, you quickly hug Cooper and pick up Nathaniel to hold on your hip as you squeeze him in relief.

"Clint?" Laura sobs when he finally answers. "Clint, what's going on? I-" She stops talking all of a sudden and she looks at you, eyes wide.

"What happened?" You ask.

"I- I don't know. One second he was talking and then-" She cuts off, glancing at her children and shaking her head. "He just cut out."

You know all is not fine and that something terrible must have happened for Laura to trail off the way she did. But instead of worrying her kids, you offer a grin. "I'm sure it's fine. As clumsy as he is, he probably just dropped his phone." She forces a smile for her kids' benefit. "So why don't we go ahead and wait for him inside. I'll make something to eat while you guys relax and I'll catch you up on the five years you missed."

"Five years!?" Laura nearly shouts.

You wince. "Yeah. You guys missed a lot."

- - - - - - - - - -

For the next couple of hours you tell Laura all about the Blip and how half of Earth's population just disappeared- Avengers included. You tell her how Clint had you move in, and how you helped take care of the house and what few animals they had on the farm still while working at the local grocery store. You tell her all about Steve and Natasha, and how Tony Stark is now married with a daughter of his own.

"Wow." Laura chuckles. All the kids have fallen asleep around the living room, leaving Laura the time to finally ask, "And where was Clint this entire time? I noticed he brought you onto the farm, but then everything became about Steve and Nat."

You suck in a breath sharply. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice that."

"Y/N.."

"He went rogue." Her eyes widen and you wince. "He left me here with access to your bank account, which I only used to pay bills and buy groceries by the way, and not even Natasha could find him. He only came back when she tracked him down and told him there was a chance they could reverse the Blip."

"Oh Clint.." She sighs, shaking her head in disappointment.

The sound of a quinjet hovering makes you and Laura perk up, but you keep quiet so as to not wake the children. You and Laura meet each other's gazes before you carefully get up and tiptoe out of the living room, and then you're rushing out the front door and down onto the lawn.

The door drops down and then Laura is sprinting across the field to reach her husband. You joyously laugh, jogging over to catch up. But as Laura and Clint hug one another, sobbing, you turn your sights to Steve who's standing sheepishly off to the side. There are two others with him, but since you've yet to meet them you make your way towards the familiar.

"Hey Rogers. Good to see you in one piece."

He tiredly chuckles. "Y/N." You punch his arm and he opens them up so you can hug him. "How are you holding up?"

"Better now that I got my sister back," you muse. As you pull away, you glance behind him into the quinjet. "Hey, where's Natasha?" Steve's smile falls and your heart plummets into your stomach. You can practically read the answer in his eyes. "No.." You shake your head.

His breathing stutters before he clears his throat. "We, uh, we lost Tony too."

Your expression completely crumples then, but Steve is quick to pull you back into a hug. He lets you cry into his chest before Clint steals you away, and then you're crying into your brother-in-law's shoulder. Then once all the tears taper off, Steve introduces you and Laura to Wanda and Bucky.

"I'll be in contact with you about what Pepper decides to do," Steve tells Clint. "If you do anything for Nat, let me know."

Clint sniffles. "I will."

You, Clint, and Laura wave off Steve, Wanda, and Bucky as they return inside the quinjet and lift off.

"Come on," Clint then sighs. "I need to see the kids and then figure out a way to tell them all about auntie Nat's sacrifice."

"And plan a memorial," Laura says.

You frown. "This was not the homecoming I was hoping for."

After a few days of planning, Clint decides on a cookout with all the Avengers and close friends of Nat's invited. It was a couple of days before Tony's own memorial, so you were surprised when Pepper Stark showed up with Morgan in tow. You were happy to finally meet the young girl who you'd been sending gifts to and you gladly ended up on babysitting duty.

You had met more of Clint's ex-coworkers, but your attention always ended up back on the children. Then when it came time to say a few words on Natasha's behalf, you somehow ended up between Steve and Bucky as the children ran back to their respective parents with Steve tucking you into his side when the tears started.

Then when the day of Tony's memorial came, there were more guests than you had anticipated. So as Pepper and Morgan walked a small flower raft with an arc reactor replica on it and set it out on the water, you stood back with Laura and her family and waited in silence. And as the crowd dispersed, you mostly kept to yourself until you saw Steve walk out of Pepper's home in the oddest white and red suit you'd ever seen.

Walking up behind Steve, you nod at Bucky and Sam who grin at your presence. When Steve turns around, you chuckle. "Why do I got a feeling you're about to do something very stupid?"

He grins and adjusts his grip on the suitcase hanging by his side. "Someone's gotta return the stones to their original timeline."

"Mhm. Well be careful. Don't start any unnecessary fights."

"I'll try my best."

As he walks up onto the platform, you step back and nudge your arm against Bucky's. He smiles down on you and you stand by his side as you listen to Bruce who walks Steve through about what's going to happen. Bruce checks all his monitors, giving Steve the go-ahead when everything is fine. Steve nods, a mask of sorts opens up and wraps around his face, and he presses a button that had been in his hand. Bruce counts down the seconds before he flips a switch which is meant to bring Steve back, but nothing happens.

Bruce looks around his monitors and starts pressing some more buttons. "Where is he?" Sam asks.

"I don't know. He blew right by his time stamp. He should be here," Bruce says as he flips a few more switches.

Bucky sighs and you quickly glance at him, and he looks more resigned than anything as he turns to walk off.

Your attention goes to Bruce as your heart rate picks up. "Get him back."

"I'm trying."

"Get him the hell back!" Sam urges.

You and Sam are low-key panicking, but it's Bucky's calm voice that stops the both of you. "Y/N. Sam."

The two of you whirl around, gazes sliding towards where Bucky is staring off to. In the distance, on a stone bench by the water, there appears to be a man sitting there that wasn't there before. You and Sam stumble forward, and you squint your eyes, only to glance back at Bucky with wide eyes.

"Is that.."

"Go."

You share another look with Sam and he gestures for you to follow him. The two of you walk towards the man together and Sam stops just behind him as you walk around in front. When you get a good look at your friend who is way older than what he appeared to be a mere twenty seconds ago, your heart cracks just a little.

You try to force a smile, but it wobbles as an elderly Steve chuckles at you. "I'm really trying not to be so mad at you right now." Your voice cracks and he pats the spot next to him as you sniffle. You immediately sit next to him and take his left hand within your own two, a gleaming wedding band not going unnoticed. Your fingers trace it. "Was it at least a happy life?"

Steve pats your hand. "It was. It was the beautiful life I always dreamt of."

You take a moment for yourself, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "You know you were my complete impulse control, right? Who's going to stop me from trying to get into your best friend's pants now?"

There's a snort from behind you, but you don't bother giving Sam your attention. "Go easy on him," Steve tells you. "I'm not sure he even remembers how to flirt."

You grin as you lean your head on his shoulder. "I'm really going to miss you," you say after a beat. Another moment passes before you drop Steve's hand and sigh before you stand. "Well, um, I should get back my sister and Clint now." You meet his gaze and flash him a small smile. "It's going to suck not seeing you every month, but I'm really glad you found your happiness."

"Thank you, Y/N."

Your bottom lip wobbles again. "Goodbye, Steve."

As you walk away, you hold your head up high and nod to Sam when he looks at you to make sure you're okay. You continue walking, nodding at Bucky as you pass him up as well when you see Laura wave you over. "For the record, I still remember how to flirt." You stumble and and then hear Bucky chuckling quietly behind you.

"Goddamn super soldiers and your dog ears."

As the days turn into weeks, Clint and Laura offer you a permanent place on the farm now that everything seems to be going back to normal. He's promised to build you a small house on the property for all that you've done in the past five years, so in the meantime you've taken to bunking with Lila while Wanda took over the guest bedroom. Clint had also taken to bringing Bucky to the farm when he noticed the super soldier not coping as well as he was letting on, so you found yourself often sitting by the back pond with him as the two of you traded stories about Steve and yourselves.

Though you had originally joked about getting into Bucky's pants, you found yourself seeking friendship from him more than anything else and vice versa. So when you weren't working at the grocery store, you were watching the kids for Laura and Clint or hanging out with Bucky and Wanda. It was no surprise to anyone that the three of you latched on to one another after losing those that you did.

"Hey Y/N," Laura calls out. "Will you do me favor?"

You glance up as she walks out the front door, you and Wanda ceasing your conversation. You grin. "What do you need?"

"Lucky needs some dog food and we need a few bales of hay for the goats."

"Oh. Okay." You look towards Wanda. "Wanna go for the ride?"

She shrugs. "Sure."

"Thank you! You can just put it on the Barton tab at the store," Laura says. "Clint pays it monthly and I've already called ahead to let them know someone was going in to pick up some stuff we needed."

"Got it." Standing up, you pat down your pockets to make sure you have your keys, phone, and some cash. Realizing you have everything, you grin at your sister before walking down the porch steps. As you near your truck, you whistle at Bucky who was throwing knives at a target on the side of the barn. "Hey Buckaroo! We're heading into town. You wanna come?"

He throws the last knife in his hand before he turns to look at you. "Don't call me Buckaroo!" He shouts back as he makes his way towards you.

"Then stop lookin' so darn cute!"

Wanda snorts and you laugh as Bucky shakes his head at you. "One of these days he's going to flirt back and then what are you going to do?"

"Bend myself over the table and let him hit it from behind," you mumble. She snorts harder this time and your eyes widen when you see Bucky start to smirk.

As he nears the two of you, he says, "What did you say?"

"Nothing," you blurt. "Nothing at all. Wanda's just easily amused, is all."

His gaze slides to Wanda, but she shakes her head and doesn't tell him a word. You mentally sigh and praise her for being a good friend, and then you turn to walk towards your truck. Wanda readily heads for the back driver's side door while Bucky walks around to the passenger seat so he's seated next to you.

Once you're seated behind the wheel and the engine is turned on, you take a moment to find a decent song on the radio before driving. It's not too long of a drive and you find yourself pulling up to the local feed store not even three songs later.

Parking and cutting the engine right in front of the store, you turn towards Bucky. You know he's not a huge fan of being out in public, but you rather not have to flirt inside the store to get a helping hand. "Hey Buck, can you do me a favor and load up four of those large rectangular bales of hay and one bag of that dog food right next to it?" You see him tense. "I rather not have to flirt with the boy inside just so he'll help out."

He relaxes then and gives you a nod. "Yeah. Sure."

"Thanks. Just keep watch through the window. Wait 'til I give the signal for you to start loading up." He gives you another nod and you turn around to face Wanda. "Wanna head inside with me?"

Wanda grins and readily opens her door, you and Bucky following right after. But as you and Wanda head inside, Bucky remains by the tailgate of your truck and keeps watch through the large front window as you had said. Inside, Mr. Reeves is waiting by the cash register and keeping an eye on Bucky outside.

"Don't worry, Mr. Reeves. He's with me." Mr. Reeves glances at you, smiling in relief. "I need four large bales of hay and a fifty pound bag of dog food."

Mr. Reeves starts punching buttons on his register. "Alright, sweetheart. Is that going to be all for you?"

"Sure is. Um, Laura asked if you can put it on the tab? Clint will be by at the end of the week."

"Sure thing." You turn towards the window and give Bucky a thumbs up. He turns to open the tailgate and then move towards the bales of hay to start loading up. Mr. Reeves chuckles. "That's a strong fella you got there."

His words make you blush and Wanda giggle, but you can't even reprimand your friend because she is further away than you expected. She's leaning over what appears to be a warming box, hand inside as she smiles down at something you can't see. "Whatcha got there, Red?"

Her smile widens as you hear small chirps. "Ducklings."

You walk over to her, peering inside and your heart absolutely melts. Inside are the cutest ducklings you've ever seen and you know you're done for when you set your hand down inside and one particular little duckling runs onto your palm.

Mr. Reeves walks over, chuckling. "They were hatched a few days ago. All have been looking mighty strong and are ready to go to good homes."

"How much?"

"Y/N," Wanda laughs. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking this little sucker with me." You pick up your hand, duckling still happily nestled in your palm as you cradle him to your chest and look at Mr. Reeves. "Any chance you have those small plastic kiddie pools?"

"As a matter of fact I do," he muses.

Wanda is giggling the entire time Mr. Reeves gets exactly what you need, you nuzzling the yellow fuzzball to your face. You pay with your own money and sadly hand over the duckling when Mr. Reeves has to box her up. You then carefully take the box from him as Wanda takes the kiddie pool, and you walk behind her as you make your way to the truck.

You have absolutely no regrets about buying the duckling, but you still hide the box as you walk around the truck and open the driver's door. Wanda shoves the kiddie pool into the back with her and Bucky turns so his gaze darts between the both of you- Wanda looking far too amused and you looking a little sheepish as you continue to stand outside the truck.

"What did you do?" He sighs.

"Well we went in to just buy the food," Wanda says, "but-"

"I bought a duck." You blurt. You finally put the box in front of you, on the seat, and you open the lid. The duckling chirps and you beam down at her, picking her up and nuzzling her once more. "I'm gonna name her Flauta." Bucky snorts and Wanda laughs uncontrollably then. "No one tell Laura."

"Gonna be hard to hide her, doll."

Bucky reaches over to take the duckling from you and the sight of him cradling it, holding it up to his face and smiling makes you melt once more. Wanda is staring knowingly at you, but you don't even have the urge to flip her off because you know you're fucked. Instead, you take your phone out of your back pocket and snap a picture.

"That's my new wallpaper."

Bucky doesn't bother admonishing you for taking the picture, so after setting it as your wallpaper you put your phone away and climb into your truck. He holds onto the duckling as you make the drive back to the farm, Wanda giggling every now and then when you glance at Bucky and sigh longingly.

When you make it back to the farm, Clint and Laura are on the porch as the kids play out in the yard. They both stand as you park, their expressions turning suspicious as Wanda hops out of the back with the kiddie pool in tow. You grin as you hurriedly hop out as well, leaving Bucky to carry the incriminating evidence.

You can tell he expected as much as he watches you jog around to his side of the truck, already pointing at him through the opened window. "Bucky bought a duck!"

He shakes his head at you and you blow him a kiss, Clint and Laura then joining you by the truck. "Oh really?" Your brother-in-law muses.

"Yep."

"Mhm." Clint looks to Bucky as Laura bites back a grin. "Buck, what's the duck's name?"

Without missing a beat, he says, "Flauta."

Laura finally laughs. "Nice try, Y/N." As Bucky and Wanda guess how Laura knew, she says, "When we were younger, Y/N did the same thing but with a turtle. She named him Taquito."

"And Taquito lived a long and happy life until we went off to college," you say. "Flauta will live just long, if not longer, here on the farm."

Clint chuckles and then takes the duckling from Bucky. He looks to Wanda and gestures for her to follow him. "Lets go get this little lady all set up. The kids are gonna have a blast."

Laura follows after them, but not before winking at you, and you shake your head as you're left alone with Bucky. He finally climbs out of the truck, shutting the door and then leaning against it. You nervously laugh as he smirks. "You threw me under the bus."

"I couldn't take the chance that they'd make me return Flauta." You pout. "I couldn't send her back, Buckaroo. I'd already named her."

He pushes off the truck, turning you around and laying his arm around your shoulders. For a moment you forget how to breathe. "You're just as bad as Steve."

"Oh whatever." You roll your eyes, grinning as your arm wraps around the back of his waist and start walking towards where Clint went. "Steve got you shot at. I momentarily put you in momma bear's crosshairs." He quietly chuckles. "And besides, I didn't hear you deny it. Admit it, Barnes, I'm growing on you."

"Like a fungus."

You pinch his side. "Oh fuck off." He fully laughs then. "Just you wait, Buckaroo. The day we decide to put sex on the list of things we should definitely be doing, I'm gonna withhold just because you're being an ass."

"You sure about that?" The teasing lilt to his voice suddenly makes you feel at unease. "You sure you won't immediately bend over the table and let me hit it from behind?"

Your face flames, but you can't help but laugh at your earlier words. When you manage to calm down, you can't help but say, "I hate you," as you finish making your way towards your family.

"Nice try, doll, but I'm calling bullshit."

#marvel gen fic x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel imagine #clint barton #laura barton #steve rogers #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #avengers imagine

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