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thewordworrier · 1 year

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OTPtober 2022 - Modern AU

OTPtober Masterlist Word count: 5,619 words. ‘Warnings’: FOC, established relationship, a little suggestive here and there. AU: Modern AU. Notes: This... I had fun once I had an idea. It’s a little bit... Indulgent, a little bit... Almost lightly crack like. Yes, I know I’ve used one of those moodboard pictures before. And yes, this is the longest one but I still consider this short for me.

Bit difficult to come up with a ‘modern AU’ when your main setting is the current here and now but... Here we go.

[Set somewhere between the end of the Revenge Tours and the beginning of The Black Parade tours - I think. Again, not sure if this would be considered ‘canon’ but that’s where it would live.] Gerard shifted in his sleep to reach for the woman that should’ve been in bed beside him. He blinked himself a little more awake and frowned when he confirmed that her side of the bed was empty. “Hm,” he muttered as he shifted across the bed, essentially lying on her side to check the clock on her bedside table. The sheets on her side of the bed were… Not cold exactly, but not warm either. She must’ve gotten up a short while ago. Maybe she went to get a drink or something? But he didn’t think that she normally took that long to do that - it took her a little longer to get a drink than it did for her to go to the bathroom, but she always came back and he really had the feeling that she would normally be back by now. With a yawn, Gerard sat up and dragged himself out of bed, groping around under his pillow for the t-shirt he’d normally sleep in, providing Shelly let him. He pulled it on when he found it before leaving the bedroom to go and find his woman. Shelly was curled up on her side of the couch, wearing the t-shirt he’d been wearing the day before, before she’d dragged him to bed and stripped him out of it. Not that he’d been resistant in any way, shape or form though. He assumed that she’d put her panties back on, but it wasn’t like he’d checked the bedroom floor for those before coming out to find her. It seemed like something she’d do - it didn’t seem like she’d curl up on the couch not wearing them. He smiled a little as he looked at her. She had clearly just slipped out of bed, put the clothes back on and made her way to the sofa - she still had a bit of a bedhead, but it suited her. He moved a little closer and it was then that he noticed that she was writing. Out of habit, he waited until she paused and clicked her pen ‘closed’ before she leant her chin on her hand to think. Once she did that he cleared his throat very softly, hoping not to startle her too badly. “Babe?” She sat up properly and looked over to where his voice came from, smiling brightly when she saw him. “Hi.” “You alright? What’re you doing out here?” Shelly hummed a little bit and rubbed the back of her neck. “I didn’t want to wake you…” Gerard shook his head gently and crossed the room to sit next to her. “I don’t mind if you do, you know that.” “Hmm,” she shifted in her spot so she could kiss his cheek, smiling when he turned his head so he could kiss her lips afterwards. “That’s because you are a whipped man, Gerard Way.” He grinned widely and kissed her again. “No, not whipped. I’m just in love.” Shelly cooed and giggled. “I love you too.” Gerard shuffled until he was sitting right up against her and slid an arm around her waist before he nuzzled into her hair. “I saw you writing.” “Mm hm,” she leant against him a little bit and hummed happily when he cuddled her tightly. “Did you have another one of your dreams?” He kissed the top of her head. “I did, yeah.” Shelly tilted her head up and kissed his jaw, giggling when he let out a soft ‘huh’ noise. Gerard cupped her face in both of his palms and kissed her properly, smiling as she giggled against his lips. “Mm, you know I love you because I kiss you when you’ve not long woken up,” Shelly grinned at him. “You’re very lucky.” “Oh, I know I am,” he went to kiss her again, half expecting her to playfully shove him away, but was very happily surprised when she grabbed at his t-shirt instead to pull him closer, to kiss him harder. “So lucky,” he whispered when she pulled away first. “You could’ve picked absolutely anyone and you picked me.” Shelly snorted very softly and retrieved her notebook and pen. “Back to bed?” Gerard nodded and followed her eagerly. “Are you going to tell me about the new dream?” “Mm, maybe in the morning, or we’ll stay up talking about it for hours again,” Shelly put her notebook on her side table before getting back into bed. “Maybe you’ll have another one between going back to sleep and waking up again?” Gerard joined her. “Or maybe I’ll be thrown back into the one I woke up from and I’ll get more details,” Shelly said with a shrug before grabbing the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing and pulling it over her head. Gerard watched this completely unashamedly, tilting his head as inches and inches of her bare skin were revealed to him, including the tattoo just under her bust. He laughed when she gently threw the t-shirt at his face before sinking down under the blankets. “Pervert,” she muttered with a grin. “Well, you will sleep wearing next to nothing,” he tossed the t-shirt over her for it to land on the floor on her side of the bed. She smiled sweetly and snuggled up to him. “I don’t hear you ever complaining.” “Hmmm,” Gerard turned out the light before cuddling her close. “Maybe…” Shelly just giggled and hummed as she felt his fingers trailing over the bare skin of her back. “I wouldn’t have you any other way though, I love you just as you are.” Gerard hugged her very tightly, making her squeak in surprise. “I love you too, so much.” “Mm, good, Now, go to sleep and we’ll talk about it all in the morning.” “Yes ma’am.” — They didn’t get a chance to settle down together until about lunchtime the next day; Shelly joined him on the couch and curled up next to him, her notebook in her hands. “Did you get thrown back into the same dream in the end?” Gerard asked, adjusting his position so she could get closer. “Mm, kinda. It was a little hazier though.” “Did you get anything new?” He watched her shake her head. “That’s a shame.” “Kinda,” Shelly opened her notebook and flicked through the pages slowly. “I don’t know how I feel about the newest one.” Gerard frowned. “Okay, what was it about?” Shelly wrinkled her nose. “A parent teacher thing.” He raised an eyebrow. “Who was who?” “Teacher,” she pointed to herself before pointing to him. “Parent.” Gerard raised both eyebrows. “Our kid?” Shelly shook her head. “Someone else’s. I don’t know who, don’t know if she was in the picture or not; guess she wasn’t or you wouldn’t’ve been flirting with me.” “I… True.” Gerard kissed the side of her head. “How old was the kid?” “Er,” Shelly checked her notebook. “About five? And we had a bigger age gap too.” “Let me guess. You were a sweet young thing and I was much older,” he watched her nod before he chuckled. “Did the sweet, little kindergarten teacher get corrupted by the… What was I?” “Still famous, though I don’t know how exactly,” she shook her head before she grinned slightly. “At least I wasn’t the babysitter this time.” Gerard almost choked on his coffee. “Yeah, you wrinkled your nose at that one too.” “Hmn!” She huffed very softly. “Now,” Gerard wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer. “Why is that?” “I…” She shook her head and snuggled against him. “It’s stupid.” “It’s not stupid love, it’s something you clearly don’t like,” Gerard kissed the top of her head. “It’s just a dream and it’s dumb,” Shelly mumbled against his chest as he held her. She heard him hum softly and he started stroking her hair. This continued for a few minutes until she sighed. “I don’t like the idea of you with someone else.” “Oh love,” Gerard kissed the top of her head again. “You’re right - it’s just a dream. But it ended like the others, right?” He felt her nod against him. “Then you have nothing to worry about.” “But the kids…” “Aren’t real babe,” he whispered. “I don’t have kids with any other women. No-one’s gonna come out of the woodwork and try to steal me from you. Okay? They won’t win.” Shelly huffed once more before sighing again - much deeper this time. “Yeah, I know. I know.” He hooked his fingers under her chin and gently tilted her face up so she was looking at him. She went a little cross eyed at first before he smiled and pressed his lips against hers, feeling her relax against him a little. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’m yours.” The sigh that escaped her this time was more of a dreamy sigh. “And I’m yours.” “Good.” Shelly paused and nibbled her bottom lip, her cheeks going pink. Gerard noticed this and nudged her gently until she rolled her eyes, going redder as she spoke. “You were really good with the kids though, in both dreams,” Shelly hummed, avoiding his eyes. “You were such a good dad.” Gerard watched her face change from pink to red as she spoke and smiled, burying his nose in her hair. “Well, at least I have that going for me.” Shelly giggled softly against his chest. “Mm, there is that.” “So, you didn’t like that one?” He felt her shake her head. “But we still ended up together?” “Mm! Yes, we always do.” “That’s good,” he leant his cheek against the top of her head. “So, what else have we had so far?” “Ooooh,” Shelly straightened up a tiny bit without making him move and flipped back to the front of her notebook. “Let’s see…” Gerard stayed quiet as she familiarised herself with the words on the pages, kissing the side of her head as he nuzzled into her hair. “Oh okay, here we go,” she said after a few minutes. “We have had, you as a vampire and me as your more than willing human juicebox -” He interrupted her with a snort of a laugh, smiling and biting his bottom lip when she gave him A Look. “Oh, babe, your wording.” Shelly just offered him a bright smile before she continued. “We have role reversals of our reality -” “Where you’re famous and I’m not?” Gerard asked, getting another Look for interrupting her again. He grinned and kissed her cheek. “That’s how it should be, really.” “Oh, pfffft, hush you. I couldn’t do what you do. I’m not sure I could cope.” “If the roles were reversed,” he leant his cheek against her head. “And you were famous and I was your assistant, I’d do everything to make sure that you were alright.” Shelly moved her book aside to twist around and kiss him, taking him by surprise. She smiled against his lips as his arms wrapped around her waist to hold her close to him - she would never complain or resist that because being close to him was one of her favourite things. “You’re too good to me,” she whispered near his lips. “And good for me too.” Gerard grinned at her. “You’ve dreamt about that, too, haven’t you?” It took Shelly a minute to figure out what he was talking about before she blushed and cleared her throat. “Not my fault, and I don’t think this really counts…” He loosened his grip on her waist as she twisted back around to put her back against his chest. When she was settled again, he leant his chin on her shoulder so he could speak quietly near her ear. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “I think it counts. Me being a good boy for you,” he grinned as giggled. “And then flipping it so that you’re a good girl for me…” Shelly whined softly and covered her face with her hands. “You dreamt about it before we tried it for the first time,” Gerard kissed the side of her neck as he gently took her wrists to get her to uncover her face. “I think it ended up going quite well. Plus, you wrote it down before we spoke about it.” Shelly hummed, still pink in the face before turning the page in her notebook. Gerard chuckled against her shoulder but otherwise stayed quiet, lightly kissing and nuzzling her neck until she cleared her throat. “Anyway… There’s the High School one where I’m a cheerleader and you’re my quiet and shy best friend. Or where you’re the confident bad boy and I’m the quiet and somewhat shy new girl from overseas,” she continued, glancing up at him. He rubbed his chin a little bit as he listened to her and she noticed him tilt his head. She giggled and grinned. “You’re thinking about me in a cheerleading uniform, aren’t you?” Gerard’s face went pink and he smiled. “I’m not not thinking about you in a cheerleading uniform…” Shelly muttered something under her breath and giggled when he gently poked her in the side. “And what was that? I didn’t quite catch that.” “I said, you just like seeing me in skirts…” Gerard nodded and held her a bit tighter. “That’s true. You look great in skirts.” “You just like it when I wear stockings,” Shelly leant back against his chest happily and giggled when he groaned softly against her neck. “Oh, god, yeah.” Gerard smiled, his chin back on her shoulder now. “Plus the convenience of a skirt is very… Alluring to me.” “Pervert,” she tutted playfully. “Only for you.” Shelly hummed happily and looked through her notebook again before she continued. “We have the stripper ones too.” “Who was the stripper first?” “You,” she giggled before she almost purred. “I can buy that. I’ve seen your stage antics.” “Oh god,” he mumbled, hiding his face against her before huffing a little. “Yeah, I hope you saw my stage antics, I was trying to get your attention a lot at the beginning.” “You always had it darling.” Gerard carefully swiped her notebook and put it aside before pouncing on her, getting her on her back on the couch. Shelly squeaked but ultimately let him pounce on her, giggling when he started covering her face and neck in kisses. When he finally got to her lips she refused to let him move from there, winding her arms around his neck and pulling him down into a long, deep kiss. Once he’d accepted that he wasn’t going to be allowed to move away any time soon, he allowed himself to settle on top of her. He didn’t normally like to put his weight on her because he felt a bit nervous about it. But he knew that she didn’t mind because she normally asked him to pin her down and put his weight on her - she liked it. Just like he liked it when she tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged - it doesn’t matter if she was gentle or a little bit rougher, it drove him crazy. In a good way. “Babe,” he whined at her when she tugged on his hair to get him to stop kissing her. “Babe, why?” “Why what?” She tapped his shoulder to get him to move. “Why did you stop?” Gerard sat back up and settled on the sofa comfortably. “Because,” she grabbed her notebook and sat over his lap, a little like the bridal carry. She liked this because it meant that she could rest her head on his shoulder or his chest. “That’s enough of that.” Gerard wrapped an arm around her and huffed softly into her hair. “I was enjoying it.” “I know,” she cooed, kissing his jaw. “But if we get too carried away…” “I don’t see how that’s a bad thing,” he kissed the top of her head. “I mean, we’re consenting adults?” “Mm, always, but maybe later.” Shelly giggled at his pout. “Um, anyway. You were the stripper first and,” she hummed happily. “Oh baby, I’d pay for that.” Gerard went bright pink. “You’d make a good dancer…” “Oh, I know it,” she laughed. “Let’s see, what else do we have?” “Didn’t you mention one about… Pets?” He peered over her shoulder, not that he could read her handwriting from that distance, and not that he was really trying to. “Mm. In regards to like, anime cat girls and BDSM sub pets,” she heard Gerard sigh softly, in a positive way. “You like that second one, don’t you?” “Yes miss,” he kissed the side of her neck. “But you liked it too?” “Mm, yes indeed, but I am a switch so,” she squirmed against him as he sucked her neck gently. “Gee, not now.” He chuckled. “You like calling me Sir, I think?” “Yeah,” the word was more a rushed out breath, quickly followed by a swallow. “Yeah, it’s kinda hot.” “That reminds me; there was one in which I was your teacher, right?” “My art teacher in one,” Shelly nodded. “I believe you mentioned there was a focus on sculpting in that one, and I was your English teacher in another?” Shelly giggled and went pink. “Mm hm. And you found my erotic fiction work for a different teacher very interesting.” “I still find those ideas very interesting,” Gerard nipped at her earlobe. “Plus, you know, skirts.” “You just wanna bend me over a desk,” Shelly reached back to gently pet his hair. “Behave Gerard.” Gerard grumbled softly and resumed cuddling her tightly. “Yes, ma’am.” “Good boy.” He whined before shaking his head at himself and clearing his throat. “I liked that dream you had about me needing a fake date.” Shelly frowned and leafed through the pages. “Oh! The one where you were fancy and rich?” “That’s the one.” “And difficult?” She added, shooting him a grin. “Ye- wait. No! I wasn’t difficult! I’m not!” He pouted at her only for her to turn around and kiss him softly. “Am I?” “No baby,” Shelly whispered, nuzzling the tip of her nose against his. “You’re not difficult. Not at all.” This seemed to soothe him but he still buried his face against her neck for a few minutes. He felt her start to hum as he heard the rustling of paper, so he peeked over her shoulder again, looking at the pages with a frown. “I don’t remember that ink colour.” Shelly felt him move before tilting her head as he spoke, looking down at the words, re-reading them to jog her memory. Once she actually remembered what it was, she blushed. And, unfortunately for her, Gerard noticed. “Why are you blushing? Is this one rude?” With a shake of her head, she turned the pages until the ink colour changed. “It’s not rude, it’s just… A little embarrassing. And you won’t remember it because it’s one I haven’t spoken to you about.” “Shelly,” Gerard started to stroke her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I’m never going to judge you, you know that right? You don’t have to be embarrassed about anything around me.” “I… I know, I just…” She leant into his touch. “It’s just a little bit forward. I’m a bit embarrassed about it. It’s a bit much.” Gerard studied her face for a moment, maintaining eye contact with her until she bit her bottom lip and glanced back down into her lap where her hands were now covering the pages so he couldn’t read them. He hummed softly and covered her hand with his, curling his fingers under hers to hold her hands. “C’mon love,” he said softly. “Let me see?” Shelly shook her head once, watching him gently squeeze her hands. “No.” “Baby,” he whispered. “I’m not gonna judge you or tease you or anything…” The blonde let out a soft whine, her face bright pink. “Please,” Gerard let one of her hands go and tilted her chin up to look at her. “Pretty please?” “You promise you won’t tease me or think any less of me?” “Shelly, never.” He replied instantly. “I could never. Besides, you can’t control what you dream about, it would be unfair to tease you.” Shelly frowned as she studied his face for a moment. She sighed and glanced back down as she removed her hands from the pages. “Go on then…” He heard her whisper before gently moving the notebook just a little bit so he could read it better, unaware that she kept peeking up at him as he read, trying to get a read on how he felt about it all. When he finished, he looked back at her to catch her looking at him. He smiled softly and cupped one hand around her face to keep her looking at him, not that she’d ever complain about that. She blinked rapidly up at him before looking cutely confused until he closed the gap and kissed her again, feeling her hum against his mouth. It was a soft, short kiss but he felt her relax before he pulled away enough to talk. “Babies?” Gerard whispered. “You want babies one day?” Shelly, still blushing - actually if anything, she was blushing more now, nodded gently. “Y- yes.” “You wanna be a mama?” Gerard asked, his voice a little bit louder but not too much so. He rested his forehead against hers. “Mm hm.” She swallowed. “But, I’m in no hurry, not yet.” “I…” He nipped his bottom lip. “I think we can arrange that, if that’s something you want with me.” “Oh! Um…” Gerard felt his face starting to rapidly heat up. “But if not with me, then that’s okay! I- We don’t have to have that conversation right now, it’s fine! We don’t have to have it at all, um -” Shelly kissed him to shush him. “I think you’ll be a great mama,” he whispered when she pulled away, smiling when he saw her brighten at that. “What else have you got written in there?” “There was a priest one - in a confessional,” she said quietly, returning to lean against his chest. “That was really hot.” “The dream or when we -” “Shush!” Shelly buried her face in his chest and huffed when he laughed. Gerard chuckled and stroked her hair again. “Didn’t you mention one about an arranged marriage once?” “Maybe twice. One was sorta futuristic, almost? And another was more, um, regency era? That one was more of a bizarre love triangle.” “Mm.” Gerard stayed quiet for a moment, enjoying the cuddle time, to be honest. He kissed the top of her head before chuckling. “What?” “I like the idea of you in one of those regency dresses…” Shelly frowned while she tried to remember what they looked like before she snorted. “You just wanna see what it does to my boobs.” Gerard laughed. “Can’t blame a guy for loving his woman.” “Hmm…” He shifted so he could speak closer to her ear. “All of his woman.” Shelly felt herself shiver a little at his tone of voice before she cleared her throat. “Behave Gee.” He grinned against her neck, pressing a kiss there before leaning his chin on her shoulder. “Are there any more?” “Um, I’m not sure.” “You mentioned a vampire one earlier, who was the vampire again?” “You, of course,” she rolled her eyes playfully. “You will write a song called ‘Vampires Will Never Hurt You’ after all.” “You’ve never been one?” Gerard asked, feeling her shake her head. “Oh, well that’s a shame.” “I did have a dream where I was a succubus and you were a very sweet, very innocent and very frustrated college boy…” Gerard coughed slightly and nuzzled her neck. “Hmm, that sounds… Interesting. Were you good to me?” “Oh babe, I’m always good to you,” Shelly turned her head to kiss what she could reach. “Dream or not.” “Was I good for you?” “Of course. You always are.” Gerard hummed throatily. “That’s because you make it worth it, being good for and to you. You make me want to be good.” Shelly giggled and Gerard moved her notebook to the coffee table again, before leaning over her. She raised an eyebrow at him before beckoning him back down. He complied, more than willingly and they kissed for a little bit, Shelly shifting a little further onto her back and hooking one leg around his. Gerard would never complain about this, ever, especially not when she kissed him like that. He hummed into her mouth and against her tongue when she started running her fingers through his hair. “Ma’am,” he murmured against her lips. “Ma’am…” “Mm?” “You need to stop that,” he continued softly, although he refused to move away so she was forced to stop. “Why?” Shelly tangled the fingers of both hands in his hair, pausing in the stroking of it. “You like it.” “I know I do,” he tentatively started kissing along her jaw, wondering if she’d use his hair to pull him back into place. When she didn’t, he started kissing down her neck. “But you need to stop, because you know what it does to me.” Shelly just giggled and stretched out a little more underneath him, removing her hands and fingers from his hair (much to his disappointment). “I like what it does to you.” “I bet,” he licked and nipped at her throat. “Because you normally benefit from it.” “Can’t blame me for liking that.” “Mm, can’t blame me for liking it when you like that.” He kissed a little lower until he practically had his face in between her boobs, before he pulled down the neckline of her top so he could get to her skin. Shelly sighed softly, feeling him pressing kisses to the fleshiest part of her breast before he started nipping at the skin, covering the nips with little kitten licks afterwards. “Gerard…” “Hmm?” “What’re you up to sweetheart?” Shelly petted his hair gently. “Nothing,” Gerard nestled against her for a moment, trying to rest his ear over her heart. “I really wanna take you to bed though…” She was about to scold him when their cellphones beeped or buzzed on the table. At the same time. That was weird. Gerard untangled himself from her, taking a moment to glance down at her as he was essentially kneeling between her legs. Her eyes travelled over him, smiling at his disheveledness before she giggled. Gerard had to use every ounce of self restraint he possessed to not just pounce on her there and then on the couch and instead reach for their phones. “Here, little minx,” he said as he handed hers over. “Thank you,” Shelly sat up a little better and ran a hand over her own hair to try and straighten it before she checked her phone. “Did you get a message from Frank too?” “I think it’s a group message?” Gerard messed with his own hair for a moment, his other hand holding his phone. “You won’t believe what I’ve found,” Shelly read from her own screen before frowning at the link he shared. Gerard looked up from reading the message himself in time for him to see her brain working (she recognised part of the url) and in time for him to see her eyes go quite wide. “What?” “Oh no!” She sat up straighter and started typing. He glanced down to the group message (just the three of them) to see Shelly’s reply of: What do you mean ‘found’ Frankie? What on earth were you looking for to find this? “Shelly?” He asked quietly, watching her focus a bit too hard on her phone screen as she nibbled her bottom lip. “Oh god,” she groaned. Gerard tapped the link and waited for it to load. Once it had, his eyes scanned the page and widened as he focused on a particular line: Gerard Way x Ashely ‘Shelly’ Sketcher x Frank Iero. Shelly had looked up to reply to him and saw his expression change. “You clicked the link didn’t you?” He just nodded. “You’re regretting that, aren’t you?” Shelly couldn’t help but smile at the look on his face. “I… I don’t know. I’m confused?” She leant forward and took his phone out of his hands. “Hey!” “Well, don’t read it!” She put his phone down her shirt, even though that wouldn’t stop him from going to retrieve it. “At least, not until I’ve read it first.” Gerard snorted. “Did he reply to you yet?” Shelly checked her own phone before starting to type again. “Yeah he did.” “What did he say? Has he read it?” “Hang on, I’ll tell you in a minute, and I don’t know, I’ll ask.” She typed out a message very quickly before hitting send and scrolling up a little. Gerard waited. He could’ve made a move to get his phone out from inside her shirt (while copping a feel at the same time - he knew that she wouldn’t mind) but… “He says,” she read the message to herself again and snorted. “He says that a fan tweeted something at him and he kinda fell down a rabbit hole after that.” Gerard let out a little groan. “He needs to not encourage some of the fans like that.” “Mm, I know. I don’t think someone tweeted this one at him, I think he found this one himself.” “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse, to be honest.” Shelly grinned slightly at this little confession. “I think he was just searching for himself, not for this specifically if I’m going to be honest with you.” Gerard hummed as he thought about it, leaning forward and hooking a finger in the neckline of her top before peering down it. Yup, she’d nestled his phone right between her breasts, and she was wearing one of those bras that lifted and presented those things so nicely - he wasn’t sure what the style was called, he just knew that he enjoyed it very much. He glanced up to see her watching him, an eyebrow quirked. He smiled at her and her expression softened as she giggled. “You like these ones, don’t you?” She asked softly, arching her back a little so her chest stuck out, grinning more when he nodded. “You just like it when my bras make it look like my boobs are going to fall out…” “Can’t blame me for that…” She was about to scold him when their group chat sounded again, so instead she checked that. “Did you ask him if he’d read that one he linked?” Gerard asked quietly. “I did ask, yeah…” She read the message again and went very pink. “He, um… He has read it. He says that it’s pretty hot…” Gerard tilted his head as he watched her expression change and he couldn’t help but smile as she went very, very pink. “You wanna read it, don’t you?” “Oh, shush, no it’s fine…” Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow at her. She caught his look and giggled softly. “Maybe I do, but only a little.” Their phones buzzed again and Shelly read the message out loud. “You don’t need to worry, lovebirds. That link is you two as an established couple and me as the third wheel.” Gerard noticed a soft expression cross Shelly’s face and he smiled before using the time while she was slightly distracted, to fish his phone out from down her top. She raised an eyebrow at him again as he did so but otherwise grinned. He leant forward to kiss her lips quickly before checking the group chat himself, just as Frank sent another message. “I’ve read a few things during my trip down the rabbit hole. The fans have written a lot, even stuff that predates you two announcing your relationship.” Shelly and Gerard looked up at each other after reading that message. She smiled and went pink, he grinned a little goofily at her before going pink himself. “I did hide it for a little while,” Shelly said quietly. “It’s entirely possible that someone picked up on it before you did.” “I tried to hide it too,” he admitted. “I don’t think I did a very good job, I mean, the others knew.” “The others are your brothers though,” Shelly cupped his cheek. “They know you very well and probably knew before you told them.” “Mm, probably,” Gerard kissed the palm of her hand. “People like writing about you two. Normally involves you sneaking around while on tour, because that’s hot apparently. Sometimes there’s some drama, but you two always end up together in the end.” Shelly finished reading that message before Gerard and watched him smile as he took the words in. He looked up from his screen to her face and smiled even more. “That’s the same as your dreams, isn’t it?” He asked softly, getting a nod in response. “We always end up together somehow.” The blonde giggled softly and nodded again. “I like that though… I love the idea that we’re always drawn back to each other. I love you, Gerard.” He leant forward and kissed her gently. “I love you too, Shelly.” “I think you’re my one, you know,” she brushed the tip of her nose against his. “I think that’s what the dreams and the fanfics are saying.” Gerard sighed happily. “Yeah, yeah, I like that. I love that and I love you.” She giggled and hummed. “Good.” “Now, I think we should read that link.”

#She Speaks #She Writes #my fan fic #Gerard Way x OC #OTPtober 2022 #OTPtober

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theadventuresofgarlandodra · 9 months

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The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Crowley’s Party

Prev.

And today had been going so well too.

Odra was right in the middle of telling Dullahan about the time she was chasing a butterfly and accidentally went head over heels into a pit when she saw it.

Black armor. All too familiarly black armor.

Odra didn’t even remember consciously making the decision to get out of her chair, she was now suddenly across the room and launched herself at that bastard, that fucking son of a bitch who dared show his face here-

“Um. Ouch.”

It was only when Odra had sunk her teeth into the cretin’s arm that she realized this wasn’t Calipher. Nope. It was definitely his armor, she could guarantee that, but the blond twink inside that armor was not the edgelord Calipher.

The young man lifted his arm, smiling bemusedly. “Well, isn’t this a lovely greeting? Please get off of me though. Your spittle is starting to eat through my armor, and really, I just got it. I would like to keep it for a bit longer.”

Odra stared at the pretty boy for a second longer before she let go, dropping to the ground. She wiped her mouth off. “Did you happen to take the armor off of a bastard?” she asked as she wiped her arm off.

“I’ll only share a secret if you share one too.” The man knelt down, still smiling in a way that made Odra’s skin crawl. He was definitely beautiful by human standards, flawless skin, blond curls, and a magical glow about him. Literally. He faintly glowed gold, like the sun, except not nearly as blinding.

“Pass.” Odra stuck her tongue out. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else. I’m going to go back to my beer-” The goblin had just finished turning around to head back to her table when she bonked right into a pair of very muscled legs.

“Eh? What… Oh hello there!”

Odra was scooped up like a doll, held under her armpits by a goliath woman built like a gladiator. “Aren’t you so cute!” she cooed. “Like a little kitten, hissing and clawing at a wolf! We should keep her!”

“Thunderwarrior, that’s not a kitten, that’s a goblin. Put her down, she probably has some kind of disease.”

Odra whipped her head around as she was now surrounded by an adventuring party she’d never met before. The goliath was just one part of it. There was now also a half elf with the grayest skin Odra had ever seen, a satyr with a golden hoofed shaped boot on his left leg, a fire genasi with each strand of hair glowing bright like the end of a lit fuse, a balding, fat hobgoblin she didn’t recognize… and one scrawny one wearing goggles that she did.

“Hey! You!” Odra squirmed, but she couldn’t get loose from the goliath’s iron grip. “You were with Calipher! Where is that no balls cretin!?”

Kendrenal shrugged. “I don’t keep track of my failures. Siding with Calipher was a mistake. One I have remedied. I now work with Crowley, who is much better.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” the blond armor thief said, patting Kendrenal on the head as the hobgoblin practically vibrated out of his skin with joy. “Kendrenal, how about you get us all signed into the guild? Tell them you’re a part of my party, I might not come here very often, but I am an official card carrying member.” To demonstrate, he pulled the guild’s badge from his pack. “See? We’re all on the same side here. If you have a grudge with Kendrenal, I can help put it right.”

Odra bared her teeth. “I don’t need any favors from you, thanks. As far as I know, you’re no better than the guy who’s armor… you took…” She glanced down at his belt. “That’s not yours either!” she managed to finally wiggle her arm free and pointed at the mace. “That belongs to Calipha!”

“Well, as I’m sure you’ve said in the past,” Crowley reached up and poked Odra on the nose, “she should have kept a better hold of it.”

“Keep your fingers to yourself. I bite.”

Crowley chuckled. “Oh, you are delightful. Thunderwarrior, better put her down. She could be rabid.”

After giving her another rough pat on the head, Thunderwarrior plopped Odra back on the ground. “So cute,” the goliath crooned before Kendrenal scampered back.

“I’m a guild member now!” he proudly proclaimed before he started passing out badges. “And so are you, Wick’of’Candle…”

“Just Wick,” the genasi politely corrected.

“And so are you, Thunderwarrior,”

The goliath quietly squealed as she took the badge, which looked pathetically small in her hands.

“And so are you, Tynos,”

The satyr snatched the badge before he attached it to his hair like a barrette.

“And so are you, Elphira!”

The half elf took her badge, hummed appreciatively, and stuck it in her pouch.

The final member, the unfamiliar hobgoblin, hemed and hawed as he whipped his head around to look at the rest of the party. “Pardon me, but it looks that you’ve forgotten someone!” he snapped.

Kendrenal stroked his chin. “Did I?” He made a show of looking around at everyone. “… No, I don’t think so!”

The hobgoblin looked ready to pop as Kendrenal smiled innocently. “You nitwit, you forgot me! Second in command Turgut!” He shouted, shaking his finger.

“There’s a second in command Turgut?”

“You cheeky- that’s it! That’s enough from you! That’ll be ten laps! Ten laps around the guild building, right now! And I see that smile, Elphira, that’ll be twice as many laps from you! Come on now, on the double!”

Elphira responded by calling Turgut what was likely an insulting word in Elvish before she turned to Thunderwarrior. “Come on, Nalthea, let’s go check out the baths, my back is killing me,” she said.

Thunderwarrior beamed. “Then I will rub your back!” she proclaimed as she following the blushing half drow out.

“You’re not allowed to fuck in the baths!” Odra shouted after the girls.

The genasi, Wick, chuckled before he knelt down to Odra’s level. “There will be no passionate exchange between them. As beautiful as both of them are, Elphira is too shy to confess, and while goliaths are strong… they are incredibly dense and will not understand romantic intent unless you spell it out to them.” He pushed down his glasses, revealing his fiery orange eyes.

Odra scooted away from Wick. “Yeah, gotcha. You’re not my friend, and your breath smells like sulfur, so I’m just gonna go,” she said as she turned away again.

She slunk back to the table, where Garl was waiting for her. “… That’s Calipher’s armor?” he asked.

“I’m sure of it. And that second hobgoblin, the one with the hand cannon,” she nodded over at the bar, where Turgut was sulking as Kendrenal happily sucked away at a frothy drink. “He was there.”

“I think I remember him,” Garl reached to touch a chip on his arm, “left me with this. Course, since he wasn’t a guild member then, I don’t think the guild master will give a damn. Especially because he already hates the both of us. What do you think happened to Calipher?”

Odra eyed Crowley, who was laughing and talking with the guild master, who wasn’t laughing or even smiling.

“… I don’t know. But I have a bad feeling about Crowley.”

#writeblr #short stories #writers on tumblr #fantasy stories #writerscommunity #dnd homebrew #goblins #spilled ink #the adventures of garl and odra manyboots #fantasy comedy #short fantasy stories #writers of tumblr

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victorluvsalice · 3 years

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Sims Challenge Wednesday: Fallout 4

And for my second challenge -- one themed around the settlement-building mechanics of Fallout 4! Because that felt like a better fit than trying to do the main plot. . . here we go!

Fallout 4 Sims 4 Challenge

Premise: It was all going – fine, you suppose. Sure, you were living in an embarrassing imperialistic and xenophobic nation, which was fighting a terrible war with the other superpower over the last of the oil reserves in the world, but you yourself were doing good. You had a nice home in a little suburb, you could take advantage of personal domestic robots, you were getting enough to eat despite the food shortages – all in all, your life was pretty okay!

And then some asshole had to go and drop the bombs. By sheer luck, you’d been admitted to nearby Vault 111 mere minutes before the alarm sounded, and you made it there just in time. The staff there was very friendly too, telling you that your new life underground could start just as soon as you were decontaminated in these weirdly-cold pods. . .

210 years later, you wake to discover that:

a) you were totally lied to and you’ve been frozen for the past two centuries as part of some mad experiment

b) you are the only survivor of that experiment – everyone else’s pod failed, and a revolt by the security staff six months into your freezing means they all either died or skedaddled long before you woke up

c) oh, and the revolt was over dwindling food supplies, so you can’t even stay in the vault, you’ll starve

So out you venture into the world, to find – hmmm. People seem to be surviving, but they could probably use some help. Good thing you’ve got nothing but time on your hands. Time and the desire to make proper homes for the new friends you’re finding. Time to build a settlement and make it something this post-War world can be proud of!

Now if only you could shake the feeling you ought to be looking for someone. . .

This is a challenge loosely based around being the Sole Survivor of Fallout 4, specifically being the General of the Minutemen and building settlements. The goals are to build up the world of Brindleton bay from some ramshackle farms into a bunch of thriving settlements, create and manage a club for helping others and improving the world, and defeat the nasties that are making life harder for everyone else.

Packs required: Get Together, Get To Work, Cats & Dogs, City Living, Eco Lifestyle, Cottage Living, Island Living, Discover University, StrangerVille

Your Sim: Create your “Sole Survivor” in CAS. They can be a Young Adult or Adult, and have any traits. However, they are only allowed to have two outfits – a set of everyday wear (for everyday, formal, athletic, party, hot weather, and cold weather), and a set of underwear (for sleeping and swimwear). They will get more clothing as they survive out in the world.

Optional: Rather than start right out of the vault, you may play a brief one-week “pre-War” period with your Sole Survivor to gain some skills and whatnot. The Military or Law career is recommended if you want to follow the actual given backstories of the Fallout 4 Sole Survivors (Nate and Nora respectively), but you’re welcome to give them whatever pre-War occupation you like.

Their World: Set up the rest of the save file as per these guidelines:

Go to Brindleton Bay and wipe out all the existing architecture – you can keep the pre-made families, but not their houses. The apocalypse has happened, and the world has got to look the part! (If you really want, you can keep the lighthouse on Deadgrass Isle, but give a makeover to look wrecked.)

Pick one lot in either Sable Square, Whiskerman’s Wharf, or Cavalier’s Cove to serve as your “Diamond City” marketplace. This should include a small bar, a small clothing store, a grocery stall, a food stall, and whatever other stalls and vending machines you think your Sole Survivor could use to survive out in the wasteland.

In a different neighborhood to “Diamond City,” pick another lot to serve as your “Goodneighbor.” Build a lounge there (The Third Rail) with a bar, microphone for a singer, and plenty of seating. If you want, you can double up and have your lounge in the basement and put a little spa-type building (The Memory Den) up top. Feel free to throw in a goodies stall too.

All remaining mainland lots should be residential, and need to have the “Off The Grid” and “Simple Living” lot challenges enabled. You may enable other lot challenges or traits at your discretion (“Filthy” is recommended, given the state of post-nuke Boston in Fallout 4).

Pick two residential lots on the mainland (in different neighborhoods) to serve as “raider outposts.” Build up these lots to have three or four beds under minimal shelter, and off-the-grid compatible appliances. Each of these lots should have three or four Sims on it, all with either the “Mean,” “Hot-Headed,” “Kleptomaniac,” and/or “Slob” traits. Put all these Sims into a “Raider” club (you may choose your own gang name) and set their club activities to encourage them to “Be Mean,” “Fight,” “Swipe Items,” and “Sabotage Items.”

Set up the remaining residential lots with the bare minimum for survival: If the lot has Sims living on it, make a small hut for them to sleep in, with just enough beds for everyone, and one outhouse with a toilet and sink. No working lights, and they must have only a small fridge or cooler. If the lot doesn’t have Sims living on it, you can only have two beds maximum, and no food source at all. You can build whatever structure you wish there. Regardless of whether or not it is occupied, each residential lot must have a woodworking table, and an outdoor cooking station of some description. Other crafting items (candle-making, juice-fizzing, fabrication machine, robotics station, etc) may be placed at your discretion.

Choose an uninhabited lot for your Sole Survivor to start on – once they are moved in, set their money to zero.

Goals: Your Sole Survivor is looking to complete the following:

Build up every empty residential lot in the world so it can support at least five Sims, one pet, and one robot helper

Improve the occupied residential lots so everyone has adequate food, water, and shelter

Complete the Master Maker aspiration

Complete the Leader of the Pack aspiration as the “General of the Minutemen” and build up the club to full strength by befriending the other “settlers” in the world

Defeat all of the raiders in fights and force their club to disband

Rules:

Your Sole Survivor cannot have a normal job, as those just plain don’t exist anymore. They must earn their “caps” via selling things they have found or made (or, with the right traits, swiped) to other Sims, or via doing Odd Jobs for the people already living in the post-War society.

Your Sole Survivor is only allowed to purchase basic build mode items (e.g., walls and wallpaper, floors and flooring, roofs, doors, windows, columns), animal sheds, chicken coops, and basic pet supplies (food bowls and beds) directly from the catalog. Everything else must either be obtained by scavenging (dumpster diving for items or harvesting wild plants), building it themselves (making furniture at the woodworking table or using the fabricator), or “purchasing” it at the DC marketplace (either by genuinely buying it from a stall or visiting the lot and spending money on SOMETHING to represent a shopping trip). This includes clothing – you may either visit the marketplace once every three days to buy a new outfit for any category, or “scavenge” one by finding something that could reasonably contain clothing from a dumpster.

In order to increase the variety of their scavenging, your Sole Survivor may visit the Bramblewood of Henford-on-Bagley, or go on brief vacations to Granite Falls. Other locations depend on if you can make them look suitably post-apocalyptic (for example, creating a post-apocalypse Newcrest or Forgotten Hollow shouldn’t be too hard, but I think you’d be hard-pressed to justify San Myshuno!).

Your Sole Survivor must build up every lot in their world to the standards of a good settlement – enough food, water, and sheltered beds for all residents, along with power for items that may need it: Food is produced by farming crops and owning livestock. A small crop counts as 0.5 units of food; a tree or over-sized crop counts as one unit of food; a chicken coop with at least four chickens, a cow, or a llama counts as two units of food. (Yes, you are strongly encouraged to regularly trade animals for meat – or, if you feel bad, ingredients and produce.) You must have enough units of food to cover all residents (so a minimum of six). Water is produced by setting up dew collectors or water generators. Each dew collector or water generator counts as one unit of water. You must have enough units of water to cover all residents (again, a minimum of six). Sheltered beds are beds in an enclosed area with a roof. There must be one bed per Sim – you may use double beds, but they only count as one bed for one Sim! (Think of it as making sure there’s “spare beds” for anyone passing through who may stay overnight – Fallout 4 has traveling traders, after all!) Power is generated by generators, solar panels, and wind turbines – each provides one unit of power. You don’t technically need any power on your lots, but it will make your settlements happier if you can actually power things like salvaged TVs and computers.

Once a settlement is set up with all the basics, if it is empty, your Sole Survivor should go out and find homeless Sims to populate it. You may move the Sims in normally, or ask them to be roommates – though given your Sole Survivor will be moving to each settlement in turn to “renovate” it, it’s recommended you move in at least one Sim normally to look after everyone. Once you have all the human Sims, your Sole Survivor should adopt a stray cat or dog, then build a helpful robot to help with gardening, repairs, or generally just keeping people happy. Optional: If you have the Dream Home Decorator game pack, you may, at your discretion, allow your Sole Survivor to join THAT career and make use of it to renovate the lots of settlers who already live in the world. Given how buggy the pack is reputed to be, though, I’m not sure how much I recommend this! (Though I guess if you’re just willing to go room by room, since those gigs seem to work relatively well. . .)

Your Sole Survivor needs to form the “Minutemen” club to help out others in the wastes, by befriending other Sims living in the world and inviting them to join. The club’s required activities should include any of the activities from the following list: Be Friendly Tend Animals Tend Garden Fish Woodwork Work Out Build Robots Fabricate Objects Fight (Raiders)

Related, your Sole Survivor needs to get rid of the Raiders making life harder for the people just trying to survive in this world! Have regular fights between your Sole Survivor and their Minutemen versus the Raiders and keep track of the winners and losers – once each Raider has been bested in at least one battle, disband the club. Your Sole Survivor will then take over their outposts to turn them into functioning settlements. The Raiders themselves can either be moved out or rehabilitated and allowed to live in the new world so long as they don’t start too many fights.

Optional Hard Mode – Expand The Map: More space, more problems – rather than setting up in Brindleton Bay, set up in WINDENBURG. You are allowed two community lots to build up “Diamond City” and “Goodneighbor” in this instance, and a third of your choosing.

Optional Hard Mode – Join The Clubs: Your Minutemen are not the only faction out there in the Wasteland – there’s three others, and oh look, they all seem to hate each other. Set up three other clubs, one each for each of the mainland neighborhoods:

The Railroad – required activities “Debate,” “Hack,” “Be Mean (Institute),” “Be Mean (Brotherhood of Steel).”

The Brotherhood of Steel – required activities “Swipe Objects,” “Work Out,” “Be Mean (Railroad),” “Fight (Institute)”

The Institute – required activities “Build Robots,” “Use Science Objects,” “Fight (Railroad),” “Fight (Brotherhood of Steel)”

All members of these clubs should live and hangout on the same lot (The Old North Church and its basement for the Railroad; the Boston Airport for the Brotherhood (though if you think you can make the Prydwen, go for it); the CIT Ruins and the labs beneath it for the Institute). Make sure they all dislike each other, and make them all “invitation only” clubs. Your Sole Survivor needs to join all of these clubs, work toward becoming the leader of each other, then decide who stays and who goes based on your “ending:”

Railroad Ending – Disband the Institute and the Brotherhood of Steel once you’re the leader. Exile the members of each from the world.

Brotherhood of Steel Ending – Disband the Institute and the Railroad once you’re the leader. Exile the members of each from the world.

Institute Ending – Disband the Railroad and the Brotherhood of Steel once you’re the leader. Exile the members of each from the world.

Minuteman Ending – Disband the Institute once you’re the leader – at your discretion, the members may keep their lot, though they have to give up their basement labs and live in the ruins up top. The other two clubs may remain depending on how friendly their members are with your own Minutemen club. Check everyone’s relationships with each other – if the majority of either club hates the majority of the Minutemen, that club must be disbanded.

Given the size of this hard mode, I would recommend running it in tandem with “Expand the Map” above so you have more room to breathe with each club!

Optional Hard Mode – Automatron DLC: Create a placeholder Sim, get their Robotics up to ten, have them make a Servo, then kill the Sim and either let the Servo live on the lot alone or have them wander as a homeless NPC. In order to get access to the Robotics station, your Sole Survivor must find and befriend this Servo.

Optional Hard Mode – Vault-Tec DLC: One of your lots is not a traditional settlement, but an unfinished Vault-Tec vault! This settlement must be built entirely underground, and does not have any beds, water, or food when your Sole Survivor arrives. However, it does have at least three generators for power! Also, the first Sim you recruit to live there must have either the “Good” or the “Goofball” trait.

#fallout 4 #sims 4 #sims challenge #fallout 4 sims challenge #oh man this one took WAY longer to whip into shape #I KNEW what I wanted to do with it #but figuring out exactly what rules I wanted was tricky #but I'm decently happy with what resulted #again this is the 'rough draft'#feel free to tweak and adjust to your heart's content #this one's probably an especially hard challenge given the rules but #well hopefully if you like settlement building in Sims 4 #queued

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mlmmetalhead · 2 years

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"surprise! we've been needing some alone time lately, today's the perfect occasion so let's do something fun" with stu macher pls uwu

You strike a match that lights my heart on fire.

Surprise! We've been needing some alone time lately, today's the perfect occasion, so let's do something fun!

Stu Macher x gn reader

CW: none except maybe some slight angst at the begging if you can call it that, reader and Stu are both above 18 and are at university.

A/N: I was gonna do something a bit longer, but lost motivation and I don't want you to wait really long until it's getting back, sorry.

Y/N felt... Strange, to say the least. Stu was their boyfriend, wasn't he? Yes, yes he was, absolutely, why is this even a question?

Well, because it didn't really... Feel like it. They were both preoccupied with their own business. It wasn't a bad thing in any way, everyone needs time for their own thing once in a while.

"Let's focus on ourselves, just for these like... Three days, alright?"

"Yeah okay... Makes sense, exams and stuff are coming up. Gonna miss you though!"

So it was settled. Three days. That later turned into five. Then, a week. Then, two weeks, three...

It was almost a month since Y/N and Stu spent quality time together. Sure, they saw eachother, but it mostly just was sharing a few words in-between lections, and maybe meeting at lunch with their friend group.

But that's it.

And Y/N understood, truly. But they just couldn't help but feel like something is wrong in their relationships. Especially now, that valentine's day was coming up, and they still didn't even talk properly, not to mention any plans.

So, L/N voiced their concerns to two of their friends under a big tree on campus.

"It's not that big of a deal, really. He cherishes you just the same, I promise! I mean, you could see it in his eyes, if you'd be able to catch a single thought behind them."

Tatum couldn't refrain from her remarks even now, carefully patting Y/N's shoulder in reassurance.

"And I mean, what will happen if you won't do anything together? Look at me, I don't remember the last time I ever celebrated valentines with someone..."

"'Cause it never even happened, Randy. And now's not the time, Y/N's situation is different. At least, there's a relationship."

"That's exactly what I'm saying! You have a relationship! Everything will work out just fine from then on."

"And that's exactly why you're complaining about being single, man."

The three friends heard a familiar voice, turning their heads, L/N doing so especially fast. Leaning against the big tree, there was the talked about man.

"I was going to steal Y/N from you two, but hearing Randy saying such funny shit about being in a relationship, despite him never being in one, I had to take my time and listen."

Y/N stood up, shaking snow off their pants, and coming up closer, taking in their boyfriend's face with a smile.

"I don't really mind being stolen you, know."

Stu wrapped a hand around his lover's shoulders, leading them both away, not letting Randy finish off his new tirade about being physical in front of others. L/N turned to look at Stu, carefully taking in his bright smile, the way he moved faster than usually, and the way he licked his lips in anticipation.

"If you don't mind me asking, where are we going?"

"Oh, that's what I want to ask you!"

"What...?"

"You're going to choose what we are doing today! You know... We've been needing some alone time lately, today's the perfect occasion, so let's do something fun! I already bought us some sweets though. This is really cheesy, but here you go!"

With those words, Stu dug his hand into his jeans pocket, and whipped out a heart shaped lollipop with a little red bow attached to it.

"Oh, that's so sweet of you, thanks!"

Y/N chuckled and took the candy out of their boyfriend's hands, unwrapping it and putting in in their mouth.

Meanwhile, Stu wrapped his hands around Y/N's shoulders, getting closer.

"The question on what to do is still open, sweet cheeks. And don't you dare think of something boring, I'm not gonna take it!"

#scream #scream x reader #x male reader #x reader #slashers x reader #stu macher x gn reader #stu macher x female reader #stu macher x male reader #stu matcher x reader #stu macher #🍷 mlmmetalhead

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

Dead Clown 🤡

Jason todd x reader

Warning: smut, murder but it’s okay.

Jason pulled his helmet off and ignored the rain that poured down his face. He had to see this without a filter. He even considered taking off the domino mask but he was out in the open. The pouring freezing rain had him shivering but Jason was unaware. He literally couldn’t believe the sight before him.

The joker was laying in his back, the pasty skin on his forehead was marred by 2 small holes. The back of his stupid green hair looked almost black when mixed with blood. Blood and water mixed in a pink puddle around his head. Jason forced himself to check for a pulse before hitting his comms.

“Bats, you need to get down here,” he said in a shocked voice. “The joker is dead.”

“..... are you okay,” Bruce said in a measured voice.

“I’m fine. He was dead when I got here,” Jason added knowing he was number one suspect.

“On the way.”

Batman and Red Robin showed up shortly with Robin not far behind. It didn’t take long for the detectives to believe Jason’s innocence. The evidence didn’t match him.

Jason sat on a piece of concrete near the scene as they worked. He had hoped to see this for years now. But it wasn’t the same. Maybe it was because Jason didn’t get his revenge or because it looked too neat. Two quick shots to the brain. Probably didn’t even see it coming before he was lights out.

Bruce walked over to him as the other two took photos and bagged evidence. A little blood here. Some fabric fibers there. No fingerprints because of the heavy rain but a bullet casing.

“Did you see who shot him?”

“No B. I literally got here and he was already out. He was supposed to have a drug drop but I guess that didn’t happen,” Jason said with a shrug.

“You were going to fight him alone,”Bruce said with a raised brow.

“No. Just reconnaissance. I would have called it in,” Jason defended himself. Bruce gave him a side look before moving on to the case.

“Commissioner Gordon is on the way,” Tim said. He held bags of evidence carefully in his lanky fingers. “We’re finish collecting-“

“Can we go home, father? It’s freezing cold,” Damian interrupted. Bruce sighed before looking at him.

“Red Robin was talking but yes, you both should back to the cave to process everything. Red Hood, you too. The commissioner knows you have a history with the joker so it’s best you leave too. I’ll take care of this,” Bruce said carefully. Any wrong word might set Jason off with his trauma over the death of his murderer.

“Uh yeah, sure man,” Jason said clearly distracted. He would usually argue with everything Bruce said and this made Bruce even more worried for the young man. He sent a quick message to Dick before the commission met got there.

——————————

“We’re running the tests right now and there really isn’t much else to do. Robin already went to bed. Go home Hood and get some sleep,” Tim said by the computers. Jason hadn’t bothered to get out of his suit or shower.

“How long? How long until you get results?”

“Oh, uhhh maybe 12 hours? A while. Sorry DNA testing isn’t like in the movies. The meta or clone tests are even longer. It probably won’t be until tomorrow night that we know anything,” Tim said turning in his chair. “Get some sleep.”

Jason considered giving him a nasty comment but held it. He certainly felt dead on his feet and had a nice warm woman waiting at home for him.

“Call when you know anything,” he said with a growl.

“Yeesh, yeah. I will,” Tim said backing away. “Say it. Don’t spray it,” he muttered as Jason walked away.

———————————

Jason trudged into the apartment leaving wet clothing in his wake until he stumbled to bed in nothing but his boxer briefs. You were going to be mad at him for the mess in the morning but that could wait. He looked at you asleep on the bed. You looked so sweet and innocent. Like an angel compared to his dirty hands that practically dripped blood every night.

He slid under the blanket and pressed close to your warm form. You gasped awake before relaxing when you realized it was just Jason. Did you not realize he could kill you 84 different ways in your sleep? It didn’t really matter as you snuggled your head into the crook of his neck and slid your legs to entangle with his. Jason’s arms automatically wrapped around you and rubbed your back until your breathing was even in sleep. He stared at the ceiling until the hint of dusk could be seen outside.

Jason woke with a gasp followed by a moan as he felt perfect wet heat encompass his dick. He looked down to see the blankets move rhythmically as you slid your mouth along his dick. He blinked himself more awake to truly enjoy it.

It wasn’t the first time you had woken him as such but it was certainly a rare occurrence. Reserved for birthdays and Christmas, he couldn’t imagine what he did to deserve such a wonderful wake up.

“Fuck! Princess,” he groaned as you swirled before taking him deep. You hummed questionably.

“What did I, mmmm, do to deserve such a fuck! Perfect mouth. Perfect wake up,” he said pushing covers down to show you between his legs. You looked up at him with big innocent eyes as you licked long hot strips up his cock. You took him deep in your mouth before sliding off with a pop.

“I can’t spoil you?” You purred and he twitched. How did he get so lucky? “Do you want to finish in my mouth or can I ride you first?” You asked and he god honest choked on his spit.

“Baby, *cough* whatever you want, what. Ever. you want,” he said and you grinned before climbing up his body to straddle him. His hands ran along the side of your body before gripping your hips. You sunk down on him with a little mewl.

“Fuck Princess, you’re so wet. Do you like... do you like sucking my cock?” He asked breathlessly.

“Of course, Jaybird. Sometimes I touch myself when I blow you, like today,” you admitted with a sweet little giggle. He almost came right them. How could you say the dirtiest things while being the sweetest person he’d ever known?

Jason reached his thumb down to rub your clit as you moved. You whined before nodding at him. Your mouth fell open and your hips sped up. He knew that you weren’t going to last long. You really did get hot and bothered blowing him. You made little whined and whimpers before moaning his name loudly as you came. Your body clenching on him was enough and he thrust up into you as he came as well. You bent down and kissed him deeply. Jason was panting by the time you pulled back.

“Loved that for sure, but what the hell was that, Princess,” Jason asked breathlessly as you climbed off and threw on some clothing. You chuckled a little before tossing him his boxers.

“Just wanted to wake you up this morning. Do you want some pancakes, Jay,” you asked. He sat up and pulled them on.

“You certainly did. And I never say no to food. Especially my favorite food,” Jason said with a grin. “Is it secretly my birthday? Am I dying and you’re prepping me beforehand?”

You laughed. “You already did that, baby.”

Jason gasped a little before laughing.

“I just wanted to treat you like you deserve. Pick a movie. There’s a new slasher out that you can tear apart,” you said walking in the kitchen and grinned at Jason’s heart eye look he gave you.

He looked through the movies without paying them much mind. He’d seen the joker dead the day before and now his girlfriend was spoiling him. He didn’t know what to think about. He’d think about the joker finally being dead. He couldn’t hurt Jason or those near him any more. You’d been kidnapped 6 months earlier and it had almost ripped Jason apart when he found you bloody and beaten. Luckily alive though.

Then he thought about how sweet you were. A perfect angel who had nothing to do with that life. You couldn’t kill someone if you tried. He just wanted to keep you in an innocent bubble, especially after being kidnapped.

“Jay? Jason?” You said near him and he jumped. He had been so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you coming over to him with a plate of food. Heart shaped pancakes covered in whipped cream stared up at him and Jason had a little grin on his face.

“Sorry, thanks. This looks good,” he said and you grinned before sitting with your own. Jason turned on a movie and sat next to you to eat.

Jason’s phone rang.

He gave you an apologetic look before answering.

“Yeah,” he answered before quickly standing up to talk in another room. Definitely bat business, it sounded like. He came back in a few minutes putting on his suit. He bent and shoved most of a pancake in his mouth. Jason pulled you to your feet and swirled you around before holding you by the waist. You giggled.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve got to work. But when I get back, I’m making up for this morning, okay? Breakfast was amazing,” he said before pulling you into a dizzying kiss. You nodded before he left.

——————————

Jason arrived at the cave and realized something was instantly wrong. Tim, Dick, Damian, Bruce, and even Alfred were waiting for him around the computers. He slowly walked up. They didn’t think he did it, did they? Jason looked around in case of a fight.

“I have some bad news,” Dick said. Jason just stared at him. Dick sighed. “We know who killed the joker. You won’t like it. You- you might want to sit down.”

Jason frowned at his tone. It was the tone you used when telling a kid their parents died. He looked at the computer to see surveillance footage of the roof where he found the joker. He clenched his fist as the mad man walked in the screen.

“You know, this is the worst meeting place in the world,” joker said with a laugh. Jason’s eyebrows rose. He hasn’t expected audio. “So what do you have that I might want on the birds?”

A female voice off camera could be heard saying, “peace of mind.”

“Doubt you could give me that Princess,” he said in a mocking tone. His posture was casual even though the lower half of a woman’s body had walked into the screen and she held a gun in hand pointed at him. She froze at his words.

Jason couldn’t look away if he wanted to.

“Yeah, I know,” joker said. “I forget faces. Too many changing and quite a few people are a little two faced,” he said with a laugh. “But I never forget a voice. You sounded so much more sweet when you were crying tied to a chair. And the way you sobbed when I brought out the crowbar.... music to my ears. I bet it just reminded you of a certain bird that just didn’t quite make it the first time.”

“Shut up. I- I don’t care,” she said. Jason’s heart was in his throat. He knew exactly who that was before Tim’s DNA tests were complete. She moved around a little nervously.

“Honey, Princess,” he said drawn out in a mock of Jason’s voice. “Unless you plan on using that gun, put it down and we can play a game. You like games? You play one with the red bat all the time. Does he know? Does he know that you’ve been hunting me for.... geez, since you were kidnapped I’d bet.”

“Now drop that gun and I show you what pain really feels like,” he growled and she shot him in the forehead before he moved. He made a disconnected sound before falling to his knee, perfect height to be seen in the camera. She shot him again between the eyes and he fell back silently. His body splashed on the rainy roof before blood began to pool behind his head. The woman looked for a second, her body language painfully stiff, before running out the way she came.

The cave was silent as Jason realized what he just saw. He blinked a few times before clearing his throat. Has she- did she-??

“I assume the DNA matches?” He asked and Tim nodded before sliding him a paper copy. 98% match. Only chance it wasn’t you was an evil twin or clone but no, he noticed the clothing and mannerisms. It was you.

“Are you going to bring her in?” Bruce asked quietly and Jason gaped.

“I sure as shit ain’t. She killed the man who kidnapped her and abused her. That sounds like self defense to me,” he defended. Dick looked at him in pity and Jason quickly looked away.

“It was premeditated, Jason,” Bruce reminded him.

“I know. I’ll take care of it. She’s not going to prison. I’ll talk to her,” he said. Bruce gave him a hard look. “You come near her- I swear to god, Bruce. I’ll shoot you myself.”

Jason got up to leave. Dick moved out of his way. He wasn’t getting in this.

“Jason,” Bruce said but Jason was already gone.

——————————

Jason was a pretty smart guy but he was completely shocked at this moment. What possessed you to kill the joker? To seek him out? A man that tried to kill you and you were willing to meet him alone? Not even Jason wanted to do that. And that morning you were treating Jason special. He thought for a second that you killed the joker for him. It chilled him to the bone but he put that thought out of his head. No, you had your own reasons to do it.

Jason walked in the apartment cautiously. Who knows how you would be acting, the perfect girlfriend or finally breaking down when you realized you killed a man. He found you in the bedroom asleep. You didn’t look like you had just killed someone and for a second Jason had doubt but the video and DNA didn’t lie.

He crawled in bed with you. You pulled him close and laid your head on his chest and Jason’s heart hurt. You looked fine but killing people left scars and your first time killing someone was not something you forget.

You woke with a gasp and cry hours later. You trembled and grasped at Jason tightly. He woke up confused before pulling you closer.

“Hey, Princess, I’m right here. You’re okay,” he said rubbing your back and holding you close. “What’s going on?”

“I see him. When I sleep. Every time,” you breathed almost in tears. Jason kissed your cheek and he felt wetness on your skin. You had been crying. He didn’t want to ask but now was as good a time as any.

“Princess, what did you do last night?” Jason asked so quietly. You looked up at him quickly and it confirmed everything he needed to know.

“Nothing. I was here. All night. Wh-why?” You asked, lying terribly. Jason sighed. He closed his eyes before willing himself to speak.

“You know I’m a detective. I can tell that you’re lying,” Jason started gently.

“What does that mean,” you said a little too quickly. Your breathing started to speed up again and Jason hated the look of fear on your face.

“I’m not mad. I won’t turn you in. Just tell me what happened,” he said softly, watching you intently. You wanted to shrink away a little.

“I can’t,” you whispered. Your eyes started to water and you blinked them away.

“Did you do it? Did you kill him? I can help you,” Jason said and you froze. “Talk to me.”

“I-I did,” you said looking at him in terror. Your eyes were red rimmed. “I did.”

“I’m sorry,” he said pulling you tight to his body. You broke down in little sobs and clung to him. “I’m so sorry that you thought you had to. I should have. I’m sorry.” He wrapped you up and made little shhh noises and you cried until you fell back asleep.

You woke up later with a pounding headache wrapped up tightly against Jason. He was on his phone but sat it down when he saw you were up.

“Hey,You don’t have to worry about it. I’ve taken care of everything,” he said ever so gently. You nodded.

“What does that mean?” You asked slowly.

“Red Hood took the wrap on it. No great loss with one less psycho in Gotham. Harley Quinn had an impromptu parade with hyenas and jugglers and everything. Nightwing made an appearance. Dick said Barbie slept through the night for the first time in months and she said she’d help you with anything you need,” Jason said trying to be positive. You gave him a dry smile.

“That’s nice. What about- what about Batman?” You asked.

“He’s Batman. But he’ll get over it. And the next time you kill a murderous clown, let me help. He could have killed you. And if anyone knows how to hide a body, it’s me,” Jason said giving you a squeezing hug. You smiled despite yourself.

“I’ll remember that. I’m a little sad I missed the hyena parade,” you admitted.

“Oh she’s having a parade every day this week. An anonymous donor gave her a ton of fireworks. Fairly certain it was Tim,” Jason said.

#Jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #Jason todd smut #red hood smut #batboy smut #the joker needs to die okay #and I’ll do it myself

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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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the-swedes-knees · 3 years

Text

Time in A Bottle (Agent Mobius x Reader)

Summary: Everyone has a guilty pleasure. For Mobius, it's a slice of pie in a very specific slice of time.

Word Count: 1.8k

Located in the middle of Downtown, bordering on the corner of old-time druggies and newly gentrified condos was a moderate sized building with an exorbitant monthly rent.

It was a theme restaurant, if the theme was 'we opened in 1953 and we'll be damned if we change the decor'- done up in chrome and frosted glass windows that clashed against the surrounding brick and mortar. The neon sign bearing the establishment's name had burnt out years ago, but it wasn't the type of place one would seek out.

Unless you were Mobius, that is.

[09:45:00]

Technically, he shouldn't be here.

His unit was nearly a mile out, or, more accurately, they would be within the hour. Dates like this, where a simple flap of a fat pigeon's wing could ripple into Nexus event after Nexus event had a name. A proper designation in their severity and frequency of necessary resets.

But he just always referred to them as 'a real pickle'.

You glance up at the front door as the brass bell affixed to the frame jingles loudly. The man that enters looks around the place before making eye contact with you and smiles. He points to the empty bar and you nod your head.

Once you finish refilling the other customer's drink, you see that he's made himself comfortable in the middle stool.

"Hey there." You greet from the opposite side of the counter. He offers a sheepish greeting in response as you set a water down in front of him, balancing a plastic straw on the rim of the glass. "Can I start you off with some coffee? Just made a fresh pot."

"That'd be great, thanks."

You place the mug and matching saucer in front of him and pour. For a moment you look up at him, and he's smiling a very genuine smile- something very rare these days.

As soon as it's full to the brim you're reaching under the counter and grabbing a clean glass sugar pourer, placing it right next to his cup.

"How'd you know?"

"Customer service intuition, I guess." He thanks you before unfurling the napkin containing his flatware. Like someone with real proper manners, he drapes the napkin over one of his legs before stirring an ample amount of sugar into his drink.

You can't help but notice just how much he fits in to the whole aesthetic with his well fitted brown suit and slim tie. New York offered a multiplicity of personalities, and you'd become quite numb to anything and everything that would walk through that door.

Yet, someone about this man was intriguing, familiar in a way. Like in the past life he was a PI that you hired to confirm your husband's affair.

Both a confidant, and a stranger.

"Feel free to take your time, but, do you know what you'd like?" You note his closed menu pushed to the side. He raises his eyebrows and nods while mid-sip, and you pull out a notepad and pen from your apron.

"Sure do, could I get two slices?" He points the vintage rotating pie cooler to your left and specifies his selection.

Easy enough. You put two generous slices onto separate plates, and he declines your offer of whipped cream or ice cream on top.

"Good choice, this one's my favorite."

"You don't say." The knowing twinkle in his eye wasn't noticed as you busied yourself with refilling his coffee. He holds his hands up in mock defeat and sighs. "Well, I guess you'll have to join me." The ceramic scraped against the quartz tabletop as he pushed one of the plates across the bar, directly opposite himself.

"I'm on the clock-"

"Don't worry, another customer doesn't come in for-" He pauses to flex his arm, riding his jacket sleeve up just enough to check his wristwatch. "12 minutes and 43 seconds."

[09:52:16]

"Am I supposed to trust you on that?" You raise an eyebrow, and his only response is a slight head tilt and pushing the second slice a nudge closer to you.

It wasn't every day courteous men offered you a break in the form of your favorite desert. Your face screwed up in contemplation as you looked at the only other two patrons in the diner before giving in and grabbing a second set of flatware. "Well, it is slow-"

"For a Friday?" He has another bite before setting down his fork and dabbing at his face with his napkin.

"Is it Friday already?" You sigh, bent over the counter to take a bite of the pie. Delicious as ever. "Hardly feels like it, all the days are melding together."

"I think this one will stand out."

"What is the date, anyway?"

"May 4th." You make a hum of acknowledgement and he gives you a lopsided grin. "2012, incase you forgot the year too."

"I'll mark it in my calendar," You laugh, using your hand to cover your mouth as you continue to chew. "'The Day I Met-'"

"Mobius." He introduces himself, extending his hand over the counter and you shake it. His grip is firm, authoritative. Before you can reply with your own name, he refers to you by it while maintaining perfect eye contact.

You can't explain why, but it feels so right when he says it. Like it was perfectly made to be pronounced in his charming Texan drawl with just the faintest hint of gravel.

While you're fixed in a stunned silence his eyes deliberately dart to the lapel of your uniform. You follow his gaze and laugh at yourself for neglecting that you were indeed wearing a nametag.

"So Mobius... like, from maths?"

"Yeah, like math." He eyes his untouched water and picks up the plastic straw. His fingers move carefully, removing the straw from the perorated paper. You watch with curiosity as the man twists the paper once and pinches the two ends together with his thumb and index finger.

Mobius holds his opposite hand out to you, confident, waiting. With a bemused smile you allow him to guide your hand. His skin is warm, presumably from the way he had cradled his coffee mug, but it's comforting in a way. His rough hand guides you, your finger tracing the geometry of the paper-straw shape.

"A path that twists and turns... but always ends back at the same spot."

"I wasn't very good at math." You admit, and gesture around as if working in a place like this was a testament to that fact. "Why does it matter that it always ends where it began?"

"Well, that all depends on perspective. Maybe it doesn't matter. But to the one who observes it, it makes all the difference." You quirk an eyebrow, silently pressing him to elaborate. "Maybe that point's... where you got your first kiss, the feeling when your favorite football team scores a winning touchdown, a perfect sunset-"

Mobius catches himself trailing off, and looks down at his plate. He puts another bite onto his fork and cheers it to you.

"Or having pie in good company."

You look around the mostly empty diner before bracing your arms against the counter, leaning in as if you were to whisper some great secret.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bit odd?"

[09:59:06]

"No-" His eyes crinkle as he laughs. "No, that's a new one. But you find it charming." He winked, actually winked, and leaned back in his stool, smirking into his coffee.

Your fork was halfway to your mouth as your just stared at him, frozen. You feel your mouth open and close a few times as you try to think of a somewhat dignified response.

"How would you know that?"

"I just know things." He shrugged.

"Like what?" You challenged.

"How about, Paul- over there." You crane your head to follow his line of eye, your coworker currently bussing a table that had just left. "Worked in this place five years, loves Coke- from the glass bottle, nothing else. Has a girl on the Upper East Side and runs a decent sized internet radio station out of his apartment."

"You're one of his listeners." You narrowed your eyes at him, a perfectly reasonable explanation.

"Oh, no. Hyperpop... not my style."

"Alright, BBC Sherlock-" You countered. You give a subtle head tilt to a woman sitting in a far off booth, papers spread out on the table around her pancake combo. Whoever she was, she definitely wasn't a regular. "How about her?"

"Mrs. Braverman. Youngest of eight siblings, English teacher at the charter school up the avenue. Actually prefers imitation maple syrup to the real thing."

You know very well Mobius could be talking out of his ass. But he's confident, nonchalantly so- like this was a game to him and he was obviously winning.

"What about me?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Your anticipation is palpable as he swallows his final bite, taking the time to wipe his face of crumbs before smiling softly at you.

"You are... a poem of a person. Charming, capable, when you walk into a room people notice- even if you convince yourself that they don't." His gaze is steady, patient, and he's looking at you as if you're the only person in the universe. "You have big dreams, far beyond all... this... and you're gonna make it."

[10:04:59]

The sound of the door chime breaks you out of whatever hypnotic state you had found yourself in. Sucking in a breath and blinking away the very beginnings of tears in your eyes you tell the new customer to sit wherever they like.

Mobius took this chance to check his handheld, sighing at the time and the ever-growing slope of the branch variation.

The reset charge would be set soon, with or without him there.

"Look at that. Duty calls." He stands up and pulls a billfold from his jacket pocket, not even counting as he puts the cash down on the counter.

Mobius turns to leave, but hesitates. He turns back around to face you and places his hands on his hips. Allowing himself to play into the fleeting illusion just a tad longer.

"One more thing I know about you-" Mobius rubbed his chin in careful consideration. "You have a date tonight."

"Ah-" You wag your finger at him and shake your head side to side, "got one wrong."

"Did I? Ah- well... How about we change that?"

You pause. The plates you had been holding found their way back to the counter as you set them down slowly. Once again in a very short time span, he had left you speechless.

"That... was possibly the lamest pickup line I've ever heard." Though you mean it to be snarky, it sounds more like praise coming from your smiling lips. "I get off at 6:30."

"Alright." He looks perfectly pleased with himself as he lightly knocks on the counter with his fist. "It's a date."

Walking out the door, Mobius gave one last look at the diner before reporting to the event site.

He knew would see you again, always at 9:45.

#agent mobius #mobius #mobius m. mobius #agent mobius x reader #mobius x reader #loki series #loki #marvel #marvel x reader #sorry for the interruption from my usual content #but I love time traveling men

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haik-choo · 3 years

Text

how the haikyuu boys confess to you (on valentines day)

tsukishima:

For once, Tsukishima cares. He cares about your reaction, your words, your expression, your feelings (about him) -- just this once. It’s because of he pressure of your actions weighing down on his heart like an elephant on an orange that he plans. He made sure he got your favorite flowers, he has the specific type of desert that you like, he’s wearing the shirt he got when he thrifted with you for the first time -- the one that you said “makes him look really hot”-- and he’s at your door. He almost laughs at his reflection in windows of the shops he passed coming here, how pathetically in love he is, how hopelessly enraptured he is by you, a dork who bought him a mug with your face printed on it (”so you can see me every morning in college when you’re grumpy and won’t admit you miss me”). He rings the doorbell and knocks softly, hesitant, at the door. He hears a response come from inside the house and rapid foot steps approaching: He looks up while he’s waiting, pondering about if he’s really going to do this. He could always throw the bouquet of fragrant flowers and sweets down the railing and pretend he was bored and wanted to hang out; but when you fling open the door in your heart-pajamas, hair frizzy and sticking out everywhere, your face slack in shock at what he’s carrying, cheeks aflame and eyes glassy with a sheen of hope.... he decides it maybe isn’t such a bad idea to be so stupidly in love that he bought a bouquet the size of an elephants head.

“Do you wanna be my valentine, dumbass? If you say no this’ll be really fucking awkward. Please say yes.”

atsumu:

He never planned on saying it. Hell, he never even wanted to hang out with you on valentines, afraid that the words he kept hidden within the trenches of his heart would surface, bubbling and tumbling clumsily out of his mouth. But your text at 9pm on february 14th ended with a little smiley face and he decided to throw his new year’s resolution of stopping hanging out with you everyday out the window. Your smile was too addicting. He knew what he was getting himself into: it was late at night and you were both laughing down the empty streets, the moon hidden and instead a sky freckled with stars hung above. It was too perfect. You were too perfect. All it took was a dumb joke (on his behalf) and your dumb, squawk-like laughter to cause his heart to freeze. He’d never experienced this feeling before, the feeling of his eyes catching onto one image, the image of your face contorted with happiness, his whole body stopping, arms loose by his side, pupils dilated so wide. The words never would have left his lips had he not been drunk on your laugh, for his sober conscious was much too afraid of the possibility of rejection, the fear that your eyes would flit uncomfortably to the side with stuttered words of a pathetic-apology filling the air, his ears, and his heart. But god, his stupid one-track-mind brain couldn’t stop his mouth from moving. He was too far gone, lost in you, that his stupid mouth just couldn’t keep still.

“I love you, so much.”

sakusa:

The countertops are littered with bowls of icing and leftover batter, to which sakusa scrunches his nose at. He forces you to clean them, and “clean them properly” while he finishes preparing the cookies to go into the oven. Sakusa feels content despite your loud voice and strange taste in music: for a long while he wondered why your presence both simultaneously calmed him down while sending his heart into a frenzy, but now he knows it’s because he’s caught in the web your love. He doesn’t really mind, honestly, in fact, it makes his heart warm and full. The amount of time he spends with you is shocking, and he does things with you that he does with no one else -- he thought his feelings were more than obvious. But when you glance at his cookie-shaping from your spot at the sink and laugh, saying “Sakusa! you’re really good at baking! your future lover is gonna be so happy” Sakusa can’t help but let his movements stop and eyes stare at you in disbelief. He doesn’t even bother to verbally reply, instead opting to reach over and flick your forehead and go back to putting the cookies in the oven. Your whine doesn’t go unnoticed (”what was that for?!”) but it goes unanswered. After the dishes are washed, and the cookies are living their last few moments in warmth, you and Sakusa lean against the counter, staring at the timer tick closer to 0:00. Out of the blue, your voice softly finds its way to his ears, “I’m so happy. I know you’re picky at who you let into your apartment -- i still don’t know why you let me in -- but, really, I’m so happy. Thanks for tolerating me!” Sakusa just stares. At your face, the curve of your eyelashes, the batter in your hair, the sad smile playing your lips -- and the words flow out effortlessly. Your head whips over to him, and he laughs. “You’re so hopeless, you know that?” and with that, the timer beeps.

“You know it’s you I’m in love with, right? Why else would I let you make a mess in my kitchen?”

sugawara:

He had made up his mind. It was a week before the day of love, and Sugawara had made up his mind. No longer could he pretend that what he was feeling was just friendship, no longer could he hide how he truly, genuinely felt. It makes him laugh, thinking about how he thought he could ignore his feelings and that ,miraculously, one day, they’d disappear into thin air. But now he’s at the rooftop on the school, a pink letter gripped tightly by his clammy hands, and he’s ready. Ready for your rejection, for your acceptance, for your tears, for anything. When he made up his mind a week ago about confessing, he’d also accepted all the possible outcomes. If loving you -- and telling you that he loved you -- meant that everything you two had would crumble right before his very eyes, then so be it. He couldn’t hold his heart back anymore. Every second of every minute of every hour of every day he spent wishing that you were his, and he was yours. Love was messy. Love could hurt. But the worst outcome of love is when you keep silent. Plus, if you shared his feelings, then he might just be the happiest man alive. So, when the heavy metal door of the rooftop opens, exposing your confused expression, and when the wind suddenly starts back up, flipping your hair all around like a dramatic scene from a romance film, Sugawara has his mind made up. Determinedly, swiftly, he stands up. His eyes are glazed with passion and confidence. Calmly, he sticks his hand out, the pink letter with drawn-on hearts and cursive handwriting filling the envelope. When you gently take the letter from him, realizing what this all means, and look back up at him, face flushed, his mouth opens. Sugawara had made up his mind.

“I can’t hide it anymore. I'm so in love with you, I think my heart might explode -- will you accept my feelings?”

bokuto:

Bokuto won’t lie -- it took him a while to understand what he was feeling was not normal. ‘Normal’ for friends is spending time together, laughing together, going over to one another’s house and drinking until late. It’s hugging each other sometimes (or a lot, if you’re Kuroo), it’s hoping you always have them by your side. But what he feels for you? it took Akaashi smacking him upside the head and explaining to him what his feelings meant for Bokuto to realize. What he felt for you, was not friendship. He wanted to wake up next to you, he wanted to be the only one who you went out on ‘friend-dates’ with, he wanted to feel your lips on his shoulder, cheeks, lips. He wanted to see you at the other end of an aisle someday, but he didn’t want to be the guest at the wedding. He wanted to protect you, even though you didn’t need protecting; he wanted to hold you, to indulge in your warmth, to be the only one you held in his arms. He wanted to be buried next to you. “You’re in love with her, you dense idiot. God -- that’s not normal. I mean, do you want to kiss my cheek, be buried next to me?” Akaashi sighed out, Bokuto shook his head, no. “But you want to kiss them? Watch them grow old?” Bokuto shook his head, yes, but slowly. “Well, there’s your answer. Bokuto, you love them.” And that’s when everything clicked. That’s when the lightbulb flickered on, when his eyes widened. God, how dumb was he? And he’s letting you spend Valentine’s day alone? Without thinking, his hand reached for his phone, tapped on your contact (you were on speed-dial), and waited for your voice to ring through the speaker. “Yeah, what’s up, Ko?” He blurted out his words, almost insensitively, not realizing their true weight. The truth made his body feel light, and he couldn’t stop the bubbles of laughter that erupted from his throat -- he felt so stupid. How could he not have figured it out sooner? He didn’t even wait for your response before he started talking again (Akaashi nearly slammed his head on the table), which caused a small smile to break out on your face. Bokuto was so, so stupid.

“I just realized i love you. Like, really, really, love you. Hold up -- is there a place we can meet up so I can tell you this face-to-face? Wait, where are you? I’ll meet you there! Oh, happy Valentine’s day, by the way!”

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chubbybuckydumpling · 3 years

Text

Royally Screwed

words: 4.2k

pairing: chubby!stableboy!bucky x royal!female!reader

warnings: arguing, period (probably not) accurate problems, smut, fluff, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, power dynamics

A/n: dear anon, I’m sorry it took me 2 months to write this, I hope you’re not too upset. I changed the original prompt a little, I hope you still like it! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

My Masterlist

The wind is blowing through your hair, a cool breeze that relieves you from the hot summer sun. Your horse is galloping under you, his strong legs taking you over the loose ground. The rays warm your face, a welcome sensation. You missed this, riding through the afternoon, taking time to just live, all troubles and worries forgotten.

Admiral has always been close to you, your first horse and best friend since you were twelve years old, merely a child. The Arabian Stallion slows down to a trot on your command, the high grass tickling his side. You let your hands roam over his dark mane, feeling the sturdy hair under your fingers.

A single bumblebee flies ahead of you, its loud buzz making you smile. The scene around you makes your heart feel lighter, a warm feeling that floats through your chest. You let Admiral come to a halt and slide down from your saddle.

You trail your hand over the horse’s muscles, the short hair caressing your palm. His strong snout nudges your arm and he neighs, causing you to giggle, “You did so well, boy” You wrap your arms around Admiral’s muscular throat.

His scent fills your nose, it’s familiarity never fails to bring you comfort. The animal scratches over the earthy ground as the sound of hooves hitting the floor ripples through the air. You whip around, parting yourself from your companion. A little further away, you see two of the guards coming your way. Their horses are quick and strong, but they have nothing on your Admiral.

“Lady Y/n”, they yell out and you can’t help but roll your eyes. The men reach you quickly, panic in their eyes, “Your highness, you must remain in close proximity for us to successfully protect you at any time”, one of them states, trying to deepen his voice.

“Of course”, you smile at them, “it wasn’t my intention” A lie. You purposely mislead them to have a moment of your own, some quiet minutes of peace. The guards exchange glances until one of them shrugs. “We see. Now, it is of utmost importance to immediately escort you home. We shall keep you as safe as possible, your highness”

You sigh internally, but follow the mens’ orders without argument. Admiral snorts stubbornly, but reluctantly follows your lead.

The sound of birds singing and insects chirping brings you great joy as you gently rock back and forth with the steady trot of your horse. Unknowingly, these were the last moments you would spend outside of the castle for quite some time.

The guards at the gate salute as you pass them. The warm sun has kept you comfortable in the open where the wind was stronger, but you quickly start to heat up inside the walls of your father’s estate. Admiral soon comes to a halt in front of your mother. The woman is fuming as she approaches you, her face twisted into an angry grimace.

“Your father and I need to talk to you, young lady! You are in serious trouble”, her malicious voice hisses as you jump off of Admiral’s back. Your mother’s fingers wrap around your arm to pull you towards her, but a warm smile is on her face. A muscle in her jaw twitches and exposes her true anger. She speaks to one of your guards, but you can’t be bothered to listen for something has caught your attention.

A man has walked up to your horse to pet his head. He is gentle with Admiral, careful and loving even. You let your eyes rake over the man. The typical stable boy clothes are obscuring your view, but you can make out the bulge of his tummy, his big arms and thick thighs. His long brown hair falls over his face, some strands are stuck to his forehead as the sweat glistens over his face. This man looks like an absolute dream and you can feel your lips twitching up.

You begin to walk towards him, a giddy feeling brewing up in your stomach, but your mother pulls you back, “Oh no, you are not getting out of this one. Follow me, now” She drags you behind her and you wish to struggle against her grasps, but won’t dare to resist her. Not at that time at least. You take one last glance in his direction, hoping to see his face, more of him. You find his gaze, stare into the warm blue of his eyes before your mother pulls you out of his view.

A sad sigh escapes your lips, but you promise yourself to go and find him as soon as possible. The way he looked at you, sweet and shy, is replaying in your head, his sweaty form a picture in your mind. Whoever that man is, he makes your insides throb with desire.

Your father’s yelling rips you out of your trance and you look up to meet his vicious glare. He takes a deep breath with closed eyes and when he meets your eyes again he looks calmer. His hand reaches out to your face, cupping your cheek.

“My daughter, what am I going to do with you?”, his voice suddenly sounds sad, “Y/n, you know that you need to enter a marriage soon. I need you to be on your best behaviour, this is about your future. I only want good things for you” You rest your palm over your father’s, “I know, father” He brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “You’re so beautiful, my only daughter. I know this isn’t what you want, but at least let me make it as pleasant as possible for you”

You sigh and stare right past your father, “I already gave my word to marry whomever you choose, father” His hand falls from your face and wraps around your fingers, “I don’t want to hand you to anyone, don’t you understand? I want someone that cares about you” He squeezes your hand, “But you need to behave,Y/n. The men of higher status, they won’t accept an ill-mannered, rebellious women”

Enraged, you rip away from his touch, ��I am not ill-mannered” Your mother gasps at your outburst, but your father smiles at you. He steps forward and grabs you by the shoulders, “I know that. Believe me, I do. But these other men don’t” A sigh escapes your lips, but you nod nevertheless, “Okay, father. I will do my best” He grins and it jumps right over to you.

Your father pulls you into a warm hug and whispers to you, barely audible, “I could not be prouder of you, my child” A warm, comforting feeling spreads through your chest and you feel like a little girl, no worries or problems, just love and happiness on your mind. You pull away from the hug and watch your father’s eyes crinkle.

Your mother forces a cough and directs a pointed glare at her husband. He sighs and turns to you, “However, your mother and I have decided to ground you for the next few days. We cannot let your temperament ruin your future. We ask you to stay on the estate’s grounds” This is obviously your mother’s doing. She always cared more about your standing and reputation, but you’ve learned to just accept her orders.

“Yes, father”, you nod at them, “Mother” A satisfied look settles on the woman’s face, hands clasped tightly. “You are excused”, your father rasps and you leave the room, a sour look sneaking onto your lips. Stupid marriages. All of your life, the fact that you will be married off as soon as someone worthy shows interest, has been hovering over you, a subconscious thought that drained your energy, leaving you exhausted and numb. You can’t believe that this dreaded day is moving closer so fast.

You enter your room and sit down on your bed. The mattress gives out under your weight and perfectly molds into a comfortable shape. You let yourself fall until you’re lying flat on your back and close your eyes. Slowly, the darkness and exhaustion consumes you ,hugging you like a warm blanket.

The shine of the moonlight dancing through the window rouses you from your sleep. The light has a slight pink tint and colours the dim room in a nice shimmer. A yawn escapes your mouth and you sit up. The cool air makes goosebumps appear on your skin, yet you feel drawn to it. Suddenly, an idea pops into your mind. Surely, nobody would notice if you left for a little to see Admiral.

A grin sneaks on your lips as you wipe the nasty crumbs from your eyes. Quickly, but careful to remain silent, you dress in your warmer riding clothes, the training ones, not the dresses. Thick, warm leggings and a nice, comfortable pullover. On your way out, you grab a wooly hat to cover your ears, smiling mischievously.

Skipping, you make your way through the halls. A giddy sensation rumbles in your belly, the excitement of knowing you’re about to go on a ride. The door knob feels cool under your skin as you turn it to open it. The freezing air seeps into the kitchen, swirling around your body. Adrenaline shoots through your veins and your legs begin to move on their own, moving faster and faster until you’re running, your feet carrying you over the well known path.

You come to an abrupt stop when you see a small light in the stables, most likely a lit candle. Nervously, you sneak closer to peek around the corner. In the dim shine you manage to make out the features of the beautiful stable boy from earlier that day. His hair is falling free, framing his chubby face so beautifully.

A long sleeved linen shirt layered with a dark vest and brown trousers clad his thick form in such a delicious way. For some reason, this man made you feel things. To your surprise however, he is standing next to Admiral, gently stroking the horse’s strong, defined face. Weird, you find yourself thinking, Admiral usually does not tolerate close proximity with anyone but yourself.

That fact is seriously arousing. This beautiful man being so gentle to your hot headed horse is insanely attractive. Your heart fills with warmth the longer you watch him. He whispers into his fur, smiling adoringly at him. The stable boy’s big hands look so soft against Admiral’s fur, his thick, long digits massaging the strong muscles. You bite down on your lower lip, a sly smirk forming. This beautiful sight almost made you forget about the cold.

Your lungs fill with air as you take a breath of encouragement before you move out of the hiding spot. Making sure to move your hips extra seductively, you wander closer to the man of your desire. It’s easy to pinpoint the moment he notices you by the way his eyes double in size and his entire body freezes. The look of fear in his eyes tugs at your heartstrings.

Gently, you take a step closer to him, but he shies away from you, like a baby deer, scared and vulnerable. “Lady Y/n, I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to intrude”, he stumbles through the words, clearly afraid he upset you. You smile in hope of looking safe and not angry. “You’re fine”, your voice is gentle, almost like you’re talking to a child, “It’s impressive. Admiral really seems to like you”

He shyly looks up to you to gauge your reaction, nervously playing with his fingers. “He’s very beautiful”, the man whispers and tucks some of his loose strands of hair behind his ear. You grin, taking another step forward, “He is”, you reach out to scratch Admiral’s neck, “So are you”

A deep blush rises on his cheeks, warming his skin. You continue talking, eyes trained on the stable boy’s chubby face, smiling warmly at him, “So, what’s your name, pretty boy?” Nerves cloud his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly, “James, b- but people call me Bucky”

“That’s a real pretty name”, you purr, “Bucky”, testing out how the word feels rolling off your tongue. Lower lip between your teeth, you reach out to touch his biceps. His strong muscles flex under your touch, but it feels soft beneath your skin. Your fingertips squeeze around him as a surge of want ripples through your body.

“I saw you with Admiral this afternoon and I could not stop thinking about you. You’re so good with him, it’s very”, you smirk and lean closer to him, lips right next to his ear, “arousing”. The whispered word makes him gulp and he feels himself twitching in his loose pants. He can’t deny he feels attracted to you, especially in these casual clothes that you’re wearing right now.

He’s been eying you for months now, always hidden away in the shadows or behind corners. He heard so much gossip, so many rumours that intrigued him, but your bond with Admiral really did him in. To see how caring and tender you were with the horse made him crave the same attention from you. He wanted your affections and love, almost like he needed them, but he knew better than to approach you. His family depends on his earnings, he would not challenge that security he could provide. But now it seemed like maybe he could have both.

The close proximity makes his heart race, your breath tickling his sensitive skin. You feel his nerves, so you move even closer, pressing your body against his. He tenses up, but shyly reaches for your waist. “I really want you right now, Bucky”, you whimper, pushing your breasts forward and up against his chest. His breath catches in his throat, but he somehow finds the energy to tighten his grip on you.

The feeling of your body against his further arouses him, a shiver running down his spine. With all the courage he could muster, he looks up at you, “I really want you too” Your hands run over his chest and grip onto the edges of his vest, “Then take me”

Pulling on the leather, your mouths crash together. His rough, chapped lips fit right onto your own soft lips, a result of your maid’s tending. The smacking sound immediately helps you relax into Bucky’s frame, letting out a little sigh. With newfound confidence, he traces your lower lip with his warm tongue, leaving you yearning for a taste.

You open up for him, letting him explore your mouth. He moans at the feeling, licking into you greedily. Little glimmers of want spark in your belly, nipples hardening as the simmering pleasure begins to grow. Your saliva mixes with his, tongues dancing together in an aroused display of want.

Just as you were about to shrug off his leather vest, Admiral neighs right next to you. Bucky shrieks, jumping away from you. You stare at him, a slight fear of being caught running through you before a grin etches on your lips, laughter bubbling in your chest. Bucky mimics your giggling, his eyes crinkling adorably, lips swollen.

Grinning you pet your horse once, but turn to the chubby stable boy to pull him after you. The back of the stable is dark, only Bucky’s candle serving as a source of light. You turn around, coming face to face with the pretty boy. The golden glow makes him look so beautiful, the breath stuck in your throat. It’s completely silent, only the sounds of your breathing audible.

You gulp, stepping even closer to him. Carefully, you take his candle and place it on the floor, close to a pile of hay. “Bucky”, you whisper, “please” He takes a deep breath, but closes the distance between you two, once again connecting your mouths. Gently, he grabs you by your waist, both hands feeling warm and powerful on your body. Your own fingers wrap around his neck, playing with his beautiful hair.

With tongues intertwined, Bucky closes his arms around you to lead you towards the hay, supporting your weight. “Wait”, he mumbles against your lips, reluctantly pulling out of the embrace, “Let me just…” With care, he shrugs off his vest and places it over the hay. A soft smile spreads over your face, a funny feeling whirling in your belly. You take the chance to take off your hat.

“Well then, gentleman”, a purring sound fills the air, “I could use some help undressing” He gulps, eyes widening in arousal. Slowly his hands find your hips, fingers sliding under your shirt. The immediate warmth that seeps into your skin makes you gasp, moaning lightly at the feeling. His digits trace your skin, gently lifting up your shirt so you can take it off.

His hands roam your exposed skin, exploring your body to his full extinct, feeling every curve and uneven spot. You reach behind your back, unclasping your sturdy bra. Bucky gasps at the sight, eyes trained on your exposed breasts. Your nipples harden, once more, under his fiery gaze and you gently push his hands towards the, your body burning for his touch.

The moment his palm cups you, a needy moan escapes you which spurs Bucky on to massage your breasts with more enthusiasm, toying with your nipples. Greedily you let your hands wander under his linen shirt, reveling in the feeling of his soft skin. The chubby rolls feel delicious under your touch, gending to your wishes. You hastily free him from the offending clothing, pressing your body against his.

Arousal and need is flaming inside you and you desperately press your lips together into a hungry kiss, teeth crashing against each other. “Please, I need you so much” He nods, breathless, and gently lays you down on his vest. You catch a glimpse of his tented trousers, saliva running in your mouth, the sight so delicious, especially paired with his big thighs.

Bucky’s chubby fingers work your fuzzy leggins down your legs. The cold air causes goosebumps to raise on your skin. You hear him gasp when he looks at your exposed heat,dilated eyes transforming into a hungry stare. “You’re beautiful”, he groans, his hand cautiously travelling up your thighs. You nod as confirmation and Bucky runs two of his digits up your heat.

He traces your outer lips, your anticipation rising. You hold your breath, hands running through the hay that the vest doesn’t cover. Finally, he leans up and spits on your core, further lubricating you. He finds your clit and begins to rub gentle circles into it, a stuttered breath leaving your mouth.

Bucky trails down to your opening, carefully inserting two of his fingers into you. “Fuck”, he groans, pushing in further, “you’re so tight and wet” He starts to fuck you with them, slowly at first, then faster, his gaze set on you. The squelching noises fill the air, soon joined by your moans. Suddenly he hits a special spot and you arch your back, pressing into him as a loud, guttural groan leaves you.

Your gaze meets Bucky’s and you begin to move your hips on your own, “Please do it again, do it again” Your begging eggs him on and he adds another finger, his strong thrusts leaving you breathless. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, pleasure building up in your lower belly.

All of a sudden you feel something wet around you, followed by a suction right around your sensitive nub. You moan loudly, hands flying into his hair. His penetrating gaze meets your eyes and with an especially hard suck the coil in your tummy snaps and you cum around his fingers, your core grabbing him tightly. You feel him moan against you, but he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging the addictive high.

Finally, you regain your senses and push him away from you, too sensitive for any further stimulation. You look at him. He sits in front of you, his chin wet with your slick, chubby belly rolls folding into each other deliciously, his trousers tented with his obvious want. A smile plays over your lips, “You look so beautiful like this, James”

He perks up when you mention his name, a shy, but aroused glint in his eyes. “You really think so?”, he sounds so little your heart starts aching for him. “I’ve never seen someone as stunning as you”, you crawl up to him, hands on his cute little cheeks. You feel his breath graze your lips and lunge forward, mouth against his, tongues tangling.

One of your hands drops lower to cup him. He feels heavy in your palm and so nice. A craving awakes inside you and you squeeze him through his trousers, a lovely moan ringing in your ears. Your fingertips hook around the waistband and you pull all the bothersome clothing off of him. His cock jumps free. It looks delicious, hard and slightly curved to the side, thick veins running along the length of it. The bulbous head is covered with his foreskin, a trail of precum has made its way down some of it.

The sight of him is so beautiful, his thick thighs making you bite down on your lip. You bow down, one hand gripping his leg, the other slowly fisting his cock. You watch as the foreskin pulls back to show his wet, sensitive head. With one last look into his face, which is contorted in pleasure, you take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down on him.

He moans, hands cupping the back of your head. You suck on him, yearning for his cum, his taste .Fondling his balls, you become even more hungry for him. He smells so husky, so good, mouthwatering even. Slowly, you take him even deeper, your nose buried in the curly pubic hair. His hips stutter, pressing his length even further into your throat, a hearty groan leaving him. You splutter around him, your gag reflex kicking in.

Pulling off, you take deep breaths, spit running down your chin. “‘m sorry”, Bucky mutters, his own hand now wrapped around himself, fisting his wet cock, “It just feels so good” Your pussy clenches at his words and you lay back down, spreading your legs. “I bet this will feel even better”

Bucky groans at the sight and shuffles closer. He runs his thick head along your slit, coating it in your wetness. Managing to hit your sensitive clit with his cock, he groans, twitching in want. Gently, Bucky positions himself at your stretched hole and begins to push in. He moans, steadily spreading you over his cock until he bottoms out.

Sweat runs down Bucky’s face, pleasure and desperation filling him. He tries to refrain himself, but when you begin to whimper and grab onto his thick arms he crumbles. Bottoming out, his fat balls slap against your bum. Slowly he pulls out again, just to thrust right back into you. His cock is so hard and curved perfectly, he fits inside you so well.

The sounds of skin slapping and moaning is the only thing you can hear, sweaty bodies moving in unison, a play of mutual pleasure, need and adoration. Bucky’s chubby belly feels so good against you, especially paired with the delicious feeling of him hitting your spongy g-spot over and over again.

His hands are all over your body, grabbing handfuls of your breasts, playing with your nipples, holding your thighs and squeezing your waist. His moans and whimpers sound so delicate and sexy, almost serene and calming, but so arousing. The squelching of where your core envelopes him makes you arch into him, his chub so soft against you, yet his obvious strength makes you clench.

His length fills you so good, his hard, quick thrusts turning you on enormously. His fattened up cock makes you mewl, all the sensations adding up into one big coil of pleasure.

Bucky’s sounds grow louder, his hard thrusts faster, more irregular. His cock begins to pulse in you when he drops a hand to your sensitive nub, drawing quick, strong circles on it. Your body is on fire, spasming under the stable boy, your hips meeting his thrusts. You feel so close to the edge and when Bucky grunts, “You’re so good for me, you’re gonna make me cum” you fall over.

Your body shakes, yet you feel like you’re floating. A warm, fuzzy sensation enveloping you, like a soft blanket hugging you close. You feel Bucky’s naked skin against you, his fingers on your skin and his breathing against your neck, but you can’t open your eyes. He grunts loudly and pulls out, but you’re so blissed you don’t find the energy to do anything but whimper.

“Thank you”, he mumbles, his soft lips resting near your collarbone, some spare hairs tickling you nicely.

Slowly, you become more conscious and manage to blink, opening your eyes. Bucky is cuddled against your side, laying on the hay. His arm is wrapped over your waist. You spot his white cum on your tummy; It looks slightly dried and feels a little itchy.

You turn to look at him, a soft smile forming at his beautiful face. His long hair frames him so well, a delicate sight that makes your fingers itch to draw. Instead, you cuddle closer to him and close your eyes. You know you’ll have to get up soon, nobody can find out about this, but for now you want to enjoy this moment of peace and serenity for a little while longer.

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venus-shadows · 3 years

Text

snippet #3 | distraction

Hero just wanted to go home.

Today was supposed to be a day of relaxation and self-care: take a walk around town, visit a few shops, maybe even end the night with a glass of wine and a home-cooked dinner. Sidekick was always telling them to give themselves a day off. But it seems like the rest of the world wasn’t on the same page.

“This isn’t over,” Other Villain snarled, as the police officer guided them into the back of their cruiser. “Don’t think that just because you defeated me this time that I won’t come back stronger. I’m never gone for long.”

Other Villain was right. The prisons in town were never strong enough to hold them for any longer than a few days. It was honestly frustrating knowing that no matter how hard they fought, it all meant nothing in making the city a safer place.

But Hero was too tired to care.

Today’s fight lasted the majority of the afternoon. Without Sidekick there, who was on a Hero-appointed vacation, it was dragged out even longer. Their entire body ached, almost as if they were crushed by a freight train. At least it was over. Hero blinked away their blurry vision, only to be bombarded by a mob of people. When did they all get here?

People were pushing around Hero, yelling and forcing their way through. Hero always hated this part of fighting crime: the herds that followed. In the midst of the chaos, a blinding flash goes off in their face. “Hero!” The man called, shoving a recorder towards them and nearly bashing them in the side of the head. “How does it feel to finally be putting the infamous Other Villain behind bars?”

“Well, I...uhh…” Hero trailed off, their throat way too dry, way too constricted. They always hated the press. “Sorry, I should really get going-” Before Hero could take two steps, there was another prominent voice.

“Oh my gosh! It’s Hero!” A girl squealed, nearly wrapping her arms around Hero before they firmly placed their hand on her shoulders, trying to keep their distance. Why did people suddenly not understand the concept of personal space?

Their limbs trembled in agony, pleading Hero to crumble to the ground and rest. But now wasn’t the time or place. Hero gently pushed the girl away from them, feeling their ribs scream in protest. “Please don’t touch m-”

“Hero, how did you-”

��Could you tell the world what it’s like to-”

“Is that-”

“Please take a photo with me!”

“Hero, could you-”

“Hero, I-”

“Hero!”

HeroHeroHeroHeroHero

Hero squeezed their eyes shut, their head wouldn’t stop spinning. Please just let me go home. Their breathing quickened along with their heart rate, and all they could do was desperately clutch the front of their suit, willing the ache in their chest to just stop. But the voices continued pounding at their skull, making their jaw clench tightly. Hero didn’t want to be here.

Against their better judgment, Hero looked back out at the crowd closing in around them, immediately focusing on all the faces. The hands of lovesick fans were grabbing hungrily at their hair, touching their suit, pulling on their arm. There were cameras and phones, all flashing and blinking and blinding, and pointed towards them. Panic crawled up their throat.

A deafening crash thundered through the air, causing the ground to quake beneath them as shrieks erupted from the crowd. Hero quickly looked up, ignoring how rapidly the pain skyrocketed and how the air was forced from their lungs. Smoke was now billowing from the top of a nearby building. Two villains in one day? Just what they needed.

Without waiting for the scrambling reporters, or anyone, to try to stop them, Hero turned on their heels, pushing their way through the crowd. "S-Sorry, I have to go," Hero mumbled, breaking into an agonizing sprint towards the site.

The adrenaline leaking from their body took all of their energy with it. They were in no shape to be fighting for the second time that day. They watched paper float to the ground, still burning, as they tried not to collapse in the nearby alley.

What they didn’t expect was Villain, casually leaning against the remaining fire escape. “Wow, you sure are popular today.”

“What are you doing? S-Stop stalling and fight,” Hero said, raising their fists up weakly.

“Sorry, Hero. I’m not in the mood,” Villain said, dropping down into the alley. “And it looks like you aren’t either.”

Hero’s stance faltered. It wasn’t like Villain to stand down from a fight, especially with Hero. “Then what are you doing here?”

"You looked ready to pass out with all those pesky reporters,” Villain said. "Being the kind person I am, I decided to help a friend out."

Oh. Oh. Villain had seen them in the town square. Villain had seen the entire thing.

Hero could feel their face flaring up in embarrassment. "We aren't friends,” they growled, crossing their arms in front of them. "And why did you think the most logical step was to blow a chunk out of this place?"

Villain chuckled, putting their hands up in surrender. “Hey! This building is known to be empty. It was going to be torn down anyway.”

Hero shot them a glare, before looking at the affected structure. They noted the strange lack of panicking individuals fleeing the apartments. Maybe Villain was telling the truth.

"Fine. Whatever….Thanks, I guess,” Hero said, muttering the last part quietly.

Villain cocked their head innocently, their eyebrows raised in faux confusion. "What was that?"

Hero scoffed as they whipped their head to the side in an attempt to hide their face which was now even redder. "I know you heard me!"

Villain shrugged. "I think the explosion might’ve blown out my eardrum,” they said, turning their head towards Hero to cup a hand around their ear as if to emphasize their point.

Hero groaned. "Thank you,” they said a bit louder, refusing to reach Villain’s eyes, settling on looking down at the rubble scattered all over the ground.

A grin spread across Villain’s face, seemingly satisfied with Hero’s response. “Anytime.”

#hero x villain #villain x hero #writeblr #writing #hero #villain #hero and villain

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ashestospace-fics · 3 years

Text

Greedy for you

Characters: Mammon x MaleReader

Warning: E/NSFW

Minors dni or I'll personally call your parents

Tags: TopReader,praising kink, Mammon being a little bratty, dry humping, demonic female and Male genetelia description and penetration

It was frustrating, Mammon felt like he was going to combust at any moment as he watched you with cross arms and a pout. It's been like this for almost a whole week, the rest of his brothers have been sweeping you away and taking you away from him. He couldn't spend five minutes without someone interrupted and he felt like throwing a fit, he wanted your attention! He wanted you to cuddle him and pay attention to only him. After all, he's your first pact, your first man, he clearly more important and comes first than the rest. So why are you spending more time with Levi than him right now?!

He just happens to be looking for you, not finding you in your room already this late at night. He was in the search until he heard your voice downstairs in one of the living rooms. He peeks slowly, spotting you with the 3rd brother setting the t.v, both of you talking about one of Levi's many animes as he let you do the fixing. Head duck down behind the t.v as you turn it on. Mammon almost wanted to pull you down the legs and drag you out when you lifted your shirt to whip the sweat out of your face, causing both demons to blush slightly at the sudden expose skin. What was enough to tic the Greedy demon off was that you wink back at Levi when you notice him blushing. Now he just HAD to intervene.

"OI! human! Get up!" He exclaims as he darted over to you. Grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up to the ground.

"Wow, okay, what is it now Mammon?" You blurt out seeing his frustrated expression.

He slams the door behind you, letting go of your wrist to flop down on your bed as he stretches his whole body over. A huff leaving him as he threw his arms around like a fish out of water frustrated as he felt your eyes on you.

"Hey wait a minute! He's helping me out here for game night" Levi exclaim backed.

"don't care, later Nerd" Mammon practically dragged you out the living room by the shirt. You could only mouth a 'Sorry I'll see you later' to Levi as you got dragged away. The whole way back to your room Mammon refuse to respond to you. Mumbling to himself who knows what, that just kept you, even more, confused at his sudden behavior.

"well are you gonna keep gawking like a fish or you gonna tell me what's up?" You casually responded as you made your way over to him. He stops thrashing around as he looked up at you with a frown.

"It's late and I need ya" he blurts out tugging your arm.

".....you haven't been spending time with me..." He mumbled out, his eyebrow twitch as he sat up pointing at you. "So I demand you to watch a movie with me! Right now on your shitty laptop", you blink a few times as you stare at him, a small sigh leaving your lips as you made your way into the bed as you drag your laptop out of your nightstand. You knew you weren't paying much attention to him this week, so it didn't surprise you he was throwing a fit.

"Alright, alright, no need to be acting like a brat. You should have just told me how you were feeling sooner" you replied, opening the laptop as you sat behind your pile of pillows. He just pouted at you, his cheeks turning light red once you patted your lap. Mammon didn't think twice as he crawls over to you, making a home between your thighs as he brought your blankets up to cover both of you.

A satisfied smile dance on his lips as he snuggled closer to your chest. One of your legs moving over his as you wrap your arms around his waist as you lean back. Soon enough whatever bickering remark he had to try arguing with you faded away at your warmth. A deep sigh left him as he presses his ear against your chest as his eyes focus on the movie. This is just what he wanted, you all of himself wrap around your arms secure and safe. None of his brothers around, no silly business, just the sound of your heart and breathing and the occasional laughter from your deep voice from a funny scene on screen. It was just perfect, that is until his other sense became hyper-aware of other things.

Sure it's been simply a week since you two hang out properly, but it's been way longer since you two slept together. Mammon really couldn't help feeling needy at the sudden thought of you pinning him down, stuffing him full. He could feel his cheeks heat up as he shifted on his spot. Bitting down his lip as he tried taking his attention back to the screen. The feeling of your crotch right against his ass now a bit more noticeable than when you two started the movie.

But hell how could he? Every gentle caress of his side from your large fingers, a simple innocent touch was stirring him up so easily. Mammon couldn't help it, he couldn't help moving his hips up and down so slowly against you. His hand holding into your thigh as he could feel your length against the fabric of your sweat pants. The idea of getting caught now and question only started to fueled in his arousal and threw away any little care he had from just spending quiet time with you. Now his head was aiming for something much more, greedy little devil wanted something much more now.

Your own eyes had already left the screen as soon as Mammon started shifted on top of you. The slow grind of his ass against you now having your complete attention as you pretended not to notice yet. Your free hand reaching over to munch away on some candy you had in a bowl. The other hand that was on his side trail under his shirt and hold into his waist. A shaky breath passes Mammon's lips as he grinded back harder against your half-hardened cock. The low chuckle that left your throat made him look up with flush cheeks. You pop another piece of candy into your lips.

"greedy little boy are you? You want me so bad for yourself today huh?" You laugh even more as he turns around to smack your chest. Embarrassment running all over his face as he straddles your hips as he pouted at you.

"Don't blame me! You have been spending time with those losers instead of me!" He protested. You only smile innocently at his pout as both your hands hold onto his waist.

"I'm sorry, but you know I try my best right? After all, I'm the one cleaning after you dorks" he huff as he rested his forehead against yours. His cheeks getting darker as his eyes looked down.

"I know..., But come on, I'm your man! I want more time with you" you place a hand on his cheek, making him look back up at you with a more flustered expression at your tendered one.

"I know I know, so greedy for me, I promise I'll make more time for you" you mumble out between kissing his heated cheeks.

"Why don't I make it up to you? Hm? Give my needy boy a little reward and a treat?" You added as he trail kisses his neck. A whine leaving Mammon as you grinded up against him. He eagerly grinded back as he holds on to your shoulders.

"T-that doesn't s-sound..so bad-oh!" He jolted at the feeling of your tight dig down into his skin, making him release a sweet whimper as you licked the spot you bite down on. Lips sucking on the tender flesh and letting it go with a pop.

"yeah? You think you can hump against me and cum just by that?" You asked as you pulled away. A smirk danced on your face as he grinded more desperately at your suggestion.

"w-wha-no! P-please, don't tease me like that, I want you to touch me" he protested, making sure to grind hard down against your erection. Feeling the wet spot already forming on his crotch as he panted heavily. The friction was already too good for the greedy demon, letting his own body take control even if he wanted to go further. His eyes flutter close as your hands rip him of his jacket and shirt, a shaky breath leaving Mammon as your thumb rub circles in his perk nipples before trailing down.

"look at that, all wet and messy already? Such a needy boy Mammon" you chuckled at the whine he let escape. His hips jerked up as the rough pad of your finger rubbed against the slit of cunt.

" M-Mmh shut u-up, I can-cant help it" he whine loudly when you push him to lay on his back. Eyes almost glossy as he lifted his hips for you. Ripping him from his pants easily, his erection stood tall along with the whole damp that trail up to the tip of his cock and down to his silky cunt that was still cover by his boxers. Mammon couldn't help but to look away bashfully, a part of him always embarrass with the hungry expression you always gave him, but also with how vulnerable and small you always made him feel in these moments.

"p-please...please MC..." He begged quietly, hissing as your hand trail up to pump his length. You trail down to kiss his cheek softly before nipping at the heated skin.

"really? Cause you don't seem that far from cumming with how hard you're humping my cock"

"Okay, okay Baby, be good for me now and I'll give you everything you want.." you chuckled again. Your eyes locking with Mammon as you strip from your clothes, the sigh sending another wave of heat to Mammon's core as his dick twitch at the sight. Once pull your sweat pants down and expose your cock it was enough for him to let out a whimper at the sight. It was so hard and twitching that he could feel the heat radiating from beneath you, causing his hips to grind up into nothing.

"shh, shh I know baby boy" you cooed as you rip him from his boxers. Now it was your turn to feel light-headed at the sight. Even after so many times you always felt taken back at the big difference in demon anatomy, or in this case genitalia. It wasn't that big or too thick but the shape sure was interesting, small curving bumps like a horn. The color bright yellow and the tip almost turning white. While the slit around it was dripping into a darker shade of yellow mustard as his cunt clench around nothing, a too-familiar little bundle of nerves on top that also begged for your attention.

It took almost all of you to rip your eyes away as Mammon started squirming under your gaze. He was getting uncomfortably wetter by your harsh gaze. It was all too tempting for you to just dive down and take him in your mouth but knowing how needy he was now it was no time for teasing or foreplay. Your hands gently rubbed his knees and thighs as you align yourself against his entrance. Rubbing yourself against his folds earning the sweetest moan of your name as he hooked his legs around your waist.

Pushing yourself in slowly had both of you groaning loudly at the wonderful stretch, Mammon could feel each pulsating vein of your cock dragging against his spongy walls as he bottoms you out completely. Both of you panting heavily against each other before you lean down to capture his lips into a gentle kiss. Mammon's hands making their way around your neck as you sucked on his lips and letting them go with a pop. Slowly trying to calm down his breathing as you let him get comfortable. You brought your hips back before thrusting back in hard. Making the demon harsh his back as he let out a scream of pleasure, your hips grinding against him as you felt your eyes almost rolled back with how hard he was clenching down on you.

"m-me too baby, touch yourself no-now before I cum into your little cunt" you pulled back any self of control to not come at the dumb fucked look he had in his face as his hand shakily reach down to pump his length desperately. Mouth agape and drool passing his lips as he watches where both your bodies are connected. It was he needed to finally jump over the edge and cum all over his stomach and chest as you kept jackhammering into him. One of your hands reaching under his knee to hold it up as you gave one last thrust and painted his walls white. The demon let out a dragged-out whine as his body twitches at the feeling of being filled up. His body finally giving out and falling limp as he panted for air. You follow along and panted heavily, pulling out of him slowly to look at the mess you both did of your poor Bed.

"s-so close, right there! O-oh fuck I'm so close-" Mammon's eyes crossed as his head fell back.

You let out a low groan at the pulsating feeling of his walls trying desperately to hold you in place as his voice started to become horse with how much he was screaming now. Hitting the bundle of nerves inside of him that has his toes curling.

"hmm, good boy" you breathe out patting his twitching thighs as your other hand rubbed the tears that form in his eyes.

"h-hm fuck, such a good boy taking my cock so well" you growled out, starting a heavy pace. Both your hands resting beside his head as you let your weight fall into him with each hard thrust. It didn't take long before Mammon was moaning his head off as you turn his brain into goo. Each drag of his walls against your cock sending sweet shocking electricity all over his body. Chanting your name almost like a prayer as he holds on to you for dear life. His cunt milking you off every time you pulled back to slam into him, your sheets already soaked with how much he was leaking.

You ran a hand across your sweaty forehead as you threw the blankets to the side as you stood up and grab a few water bottles. Opening it up for Mammon to take. Brushing off the sweaty hair of his face as he sighs at the gentle touch.

"does my greedy demon want to take a shower with me?" You gently asked as he drank down the whole bottle in one go. A small smile on his face as he looked up at you.

"you know the answer to that"

#obey me x male reader #Obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me smut #obey me x mc #mammon swd #mammon x male reader #mammon x reader #swd mammon #obey me mammon #obey me hc #obey me

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pencildragons · 3 years

Text

some assorted merlin headcanons:

word has it around camelot that merlin's favourite food is blueberries. this is incorrect. his favourite food is blackberries. he is deathly allergic to blueberries.

arthur found this out the hard way

that bracelet he wears in season 1?? gwen gave it to him. i don’t CARE that they’d known each for like 2 days gwen immediately saw this man and though he Will Be My Friend and then made him a friendship bracelet and nobody stopped her (i love u dork)

in ealdor the Thing He Is Known For is falling into ponds. that’s it. ‘oh who’s that?’ ‘that? that’s merlin. he falls into ponds.’

he almost set Will on fire as a child and will teased him mercilessly to his death about it. off-scene moments before death bitch literally made a joke abt at least he wasn’t set on fire and merlin strangled him then and there.

he can freaking shape shift. like man, how cool is that?? his shape of choice is an EAGLE rather than a merlin, but. the thing is. the way he figured out he could shapeshift was he sneezed one day and suddenly he was a goldfish

GODDAMN my man loves lancelot. he’s the og lancelot fan. he started the lancelot appreciation club and literally the entire round table, gwen, and a couple of randoms off the street are part of it. it’s a great hit. ironically, lancelot doesn’t know it exists.

he made gwaine a Bag of Holding but it’s just for apples. all that’s in the bag is apples, all the way down. gwaine proposed to him on the spot when he got it

he’s left handed BUT arthur taught him to use a sword with his right hand which is why he’s not,,,, fantastic (also because my man just Isn’t Good With Swords) BUT elyan sees him cutting some stuff up one day, yknow. with his left hand. and Realises and as a fellow leftie decides to train him and confuse the HELL out of everyone the next time merlin’s part of training

it works

oh! he was born on samhain, which does play into the fact that he’s immortal, because usually babies born on samhain die,,,, but he didn’t

this did lead to a lot of people being suspicious of he and his mother as he grew up

he didn’t do a lot to help this, admittedly

so y’know how babies can’t really control their limbs when their young?? yeah well merlin couldn’t control his magic

kid would just start spinning and shit right out of his cradle while hunith was having people over for dinner which was. interesting

his entire eyeball was completely golden until he was about 8. it used to freak ppl out so he just. stopped making eye contact

when he’s REALLY angry his eyes just start changing colour,,,,,

there is a Reason why he doesn’t get angry very much

lancelot saw it once and he was Shook forever

gwaine saw it and Immediately decided that it was the coolest thing

he is waiting for the day that merlin cracks because that will be the day that Shit Goes Down

in the 15th century merlin will discover coffee. a caffeinated merlin is a merlin that the world is not ready for

you know how he can speak to dragons? well that extends to all reptiles now. one day a snake starts talking to him and he just shrugs and rolls with it. whatever. this is normal

this is Not Normal

poor arthur walks in on him one day to find him fucking hissing at a twenty-foot python

he and gwen are at the very top of camelot’s rumour mill. they see everything. they hear everything. they know everything. they can also control it >:)

one day merlin’s had enough of arthur and goes to complain in the kitchens

arthur the next day: merlin WHY did i just get called in front of my father on allegations of being in love with a statue??

merlin, pouring a potion of itching into his bath: .....i really couldn’t say, sire

this continues for a while until arthur catches on

in retaliation he writes a letter to hunith detailing all the dumb things her son has gotten up to over the years

the effect is devestating

(as in: merlin doesn’t speak to him for a week)

my man can SEW. his mother was a seamstress and taught him how to make clothes to sell at market the next village over

he loves embroidery, and he also helps gwen out sometimes and they gossip

his magic acts up a lot when he’s sick or tired

this includes turning the sky green and wine into soup

at the same time

while at a banquet

arthur just wants to know why there’s soup in his goblet

he’s,,,,,, really uncomfortable with the druids’ worship of him, bc they see him as akin to a god and their savour and post-camlann they’re going ‘oh mighty emrys the rule of the pendragons has passed onto the once and future queen finally magic can be freed’ and he just loses it

too bad gwaine didn’t get to see it

or anything else, ever

he and morgana pretended to court for a while just so they could absolute SCANADALISE uther, and also to make arthur jealous. they fake-eloped at one point and uther charged merlin with high treason

he got charged with high treason a lot actually, and not just in camelot. he is now a wanted criminal in four different kingdoms

losing morgana (the first time after the poisoning) absolutely DESTROYED him and he became rlly recluse until she came back, which started the descent into who he becomes in s4/5

he is Small and Angry and he will throw hands with Literally Everyone

merlin is no longer allowed swords in public

he’s also tone-deaf but thinks he’s not, and it drives arthur, who’s very musical, absolutely INSANE

he gets his hands on the medieval equivalent of a kazoo and has stopped two bandit attacks and three assassination attempts to date with the ~Power Of Annoyance~

one of those assassination attempts took place during a council meeting and merlin just whips out his kazoo and starts playing

he gets charged with high treason again for that

he is TERRIBLE with plants and kills every single of one of them

he once woke arthur up by climbing through the window on the 9th floor of the castle or whatever and rattling the window pane until arthur woke up and nearly tried to kill him because he thought he was an intruder

he has tried to consume rocks but elyan stopped him

idk i just love him, i’ll probably do some more of others later ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#bbc merlin #bbcm #merlin #mine #merlin headcanons #the taming of the queue

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smoochkooks · 3 years

Text

—hymne a l’amour (m.)

⟶ pairing: park jimin/reader

⟶ genre: smut, fluff, tiny bits of angst

⟶ word count: 5.5k

⟶ summary: it’s valentine’s day and your boyfriend decides to surprise you in more ways than one. and when you’re dating park jimin, cocky, smart and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of absolutely nothing.

⟶ warnings: dom!jimin, sub!reader, big dick!jimin, sir kink, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, ass slapping, dirty talk, use of degrading names, unprotected sex, mentions of jimin having a daddy kink, jimin being disgustingly sweet boyfriend, oc having at least 2 (two) mental breakdowns, cringy valentine’s day presents

this is eldorado valentine’s day special but it can be read as a standalone. enjoy! xx

Spending Valentine's Day in the city of Paris is like walking through the streets of Beijing and smelling the strong essence of soy sauce and chicken every time you take a breath.

Overwhelming.

(Or at least that's what you think is a good comparison, since you've never stood your foot in Beijing before.)

Paris seems to be on another level when it comes to celebrating Valentine's Day. It's because that's the city of love, someone may say, but no, my friend, it's not just that. French grammar isn't the only stupid thing about said country. Citizens are even weirder, in more ways than one. It's the Eiffel Tower and the smell of garlic that disguises it all when you first visit France.

A week before February 14th, restaurants, cafees and grocery shops are all covered from head to toe in red hearts, chubby cupids, big teddy bears, various kinds of roses and, at the top of that – everywhere you focus your eyes on, you spot those huge inscriptions where words ‘love’ and ‘I love you’ are spelled in hundred different types of swirly fonts.

It's all too kitschy for your liking but tourists and locals don’t actually mind it even a bit. Once a year Paris turns into a set of the most cliché rom-com and no matter how irksome it might feel, you just have to survive this festival of boofonery.

You've always despised Valentine's Day with every fiber of your being (mostly because you hadn’t had anyone you could actually spend this day with) but your judgement took a sharp three-sixty turn when certain blond, charismatic man entered your life. Now, while you’re happily taken, a romantic dinner and a bouquet of red roses don’t sound that bad.

But when you're dating someone like Park Jimin, a smart-ass, cocky and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of abosultely nothing.

It's a little past ten, you’re laying in your king-size bed, a day before the actual Valentine's Day. Jimin informed you he was going to be late for dinner because of some extra paperwork he had to do in the office, so you patiently wait for him. Wrapped like a fancy Christmas gift in a new pair of flimsy, lacy lingerie you recently bought in Victoria’s Secret, all hidden underneath Jimin's baggy t-shirt (the combination of casual and slutty never fails to drive him crazy). The set is cute, in a baby pink colour. The last time you pulled a move like this, Jimin went hard, literally and lyrically.

Let's just say that Park Jimin (and his dick) likes high-quality underwear.

Dating Jimin has taught you a few things, one of them being that his sex drive is insatiable, so you always need to be prepared. That’s why you're now laying here, on your bed, freshly shaved and smelling of coconut, your precious pussy ready to be worshipped by Jimin's mouth.

When you hear the familiar jingle of keys and the door to your apartment swings open, you squeal in excitement, grabbing your phone from the nightstand to scroll through it mindlessly so you don’t come across a girl whose only purpose in life is to get dicked down by her boyfriend.

(Which, right now, is your only purpose.)

“Babe, I’m home!”

You hear Jimin pulling off his shoes and coat, so you shout back, “I’m in the bedroom!”

He seemed to be in a good mood in the morning and if nothing's changed, you're positive about getting some action tonight. A well-deserved orgasm after work it's all you crave. You squeeze your thighs, and wait.

“God, I’m so fucking exhausted.” Jimin announces upon entering the room and as soon as those words leave his mouth, he collapses face down onto the bed. His lifeless corpse smells like sweat mixed with his usual cologne and you wrinkle your nose in disgust.

And that’s on getting railed by your boyfriend tonight.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he murmurs after a moment, voice laced with tiredness. He grunts and lifts himself up to place a chaste kiss on your lips. He tastes like bitter coffee and it makes you cringe, but you kiss him back nonetheless. He pulls off too fast for your liking and nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck instead. He cuddles into your side, mumbling something about you feeling warm.

In your head, you count. When was the last time you two had sex? Right, last Tuesday. Oh boy, what a night it was. Your ass still hurts a little while sitting on a chair, a byproduct of your boyfriend's palm landing smack after smack on your cheeks. Lesson learned: never smile too broadly to the waiter who blatantly flirsts with you. You're sure the whole appartment complex heard that night who makes you feel that good

(As if they don’t already know.)

See? Park Jimin is unpredictable.

“How was work?’’ you decide to ask instead, clearing your thoughts from the inappropriate images of Jimin’s bare body pressed to yours as he fucked you that night. You thread your fingers through his blond locks just the way he likes, massaging his scalp.

He sighs, his words muffled when he speaks. “This new employee can’t do shit. I had to prepare everything before tomorrow's expedition by myself,” he says. “I have to tell Namjoon to fire his ass.”

You falter your movements for a second. Right, the expedition. You completely forgot about it. Jimin's going to be out of town for the whole day, digging in the soil in some French village the name of you cannot pronounce.

It looks like your fancy lingerie has to wait for her big premiere a little longer.

“What time are you planning to be back home?” you ask.

“Dunno. Probably late.” Jimin exhales loudly, his breath tickling your neck. His hand travels to your nude thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. You fight back a moan that threatens to spill from you mouth. You really need to get laid soon. “We set off at 6am.” he adds, tracing circles on your bare skin. Your smile drops.

So the plans for morning sex on Valentine's Day stay where they belong. In your dreams.

“You're so soft. And you smell like coconuts. I could stay like this forever.” Jimin mumbles, circling your waist with his arms and pulling you even closer to him.

You sigh, basking in this situation just for a while, stroking Jimin's hair and listening to his steady breathing until he eventually falls asleep. Still fully clothed, still with his hand on your thigh. Carefully, so you don’t wake him up, you get up from the bed to take off your underwear. You do feel a little disappointed, but it's okay.

When you settle yourself on the bed next to Jimin again, your back facing him, a strong arm pulls you flush to his body. You hear him sighing with relief, and it makes you smile to yourself.

Lights off, everything can wait for tomorrow.

In the morning, just like expected, you wake up alone. There's no sight of Jimin, his side of the bed empty and cold. For your dismay, there’s no bouquet of red roses waiting for you in the kitchen, no box of chocolates or a small, cheesy note with your name written on it. Not even a short “Happy Valentine's Day, baby!” text on your phone. Absolutely nothing.

You tells yourself it’s fine. Maybe Jimin didn’t have enough time, maybe he was too occupied with expedition to prepare something special, maybe the big surprise is yet to come. However, you can’t quite shake off the feeling that something do seem odd and it makes you anxious. Leaving without a single text is not Jimin's style. Not when it's your first Valentine's Day spend together.

You probably shouldn’t worry that much. It's not a big deal, after all you hate those types of annual holidays and Jimin knows it. Yet something about the whole situation makes you uncontrollably uneasy. You have never been like this, vulnerable and sheepish. You hate Park Jimin for turning you into such a softie.

Walking through the streets of Paris makes you feel nauseous. You look at all the happy couples sucking each others’ faces for everyone to see and fight an urge to gag. Someone shouts “Love is in the air!” and you almost throw up. Everytime you see someone holding heart-shaped balloons or flowers, you whip your head in other direction. It's nothing, you keep reminding yourself. A stupid holiday that doesn’t mean anything at all.

But the actual nail to the coffin happens to be the atmosphere in Eldorado headquarters. It drives you absolutely crazy.

It's 12am and still no word from Jimin. You checked: this bastard was online one hour ago, so he just doesn’t want to talk to you. Fine, mister. If this is how you wanna play, try sucking your dick by yourself, beacuse I’m not getting near it anytime soon, you think to yourself, filled with rage.

Yeri wiggles her pretty eyebrows at you and asks about your plans for tonight. You fake a giggle, saying that Jimin will probably surprise you with something when he gets back from his expedition. The words taste bitter on your tongue, especially when the high hopes you had simply melted away this morning. Your friend then starts babbling about the restaurant she's going to with Jungkook after work and you listen to her rant with forced smile on your face the whole time.

Meanwhile, a few meters away from you Hoseok is giggling like a teenager, typing something on his phone, without a doubt (sex)texting his girlfriend. She's out of town and you’re more than sure Hoseok hasn't gone to bathroom ten minutes ago just to take a piss. Even Namjoon is in a pleasant mood today, humming some old ABBA hits under his breath. Yesterday he couldn’t shut up about his date with a girl who’s also his new neighbour. He met her when she came by to give him homemade croissants. Ironically, that sounds a lot like some kdrama lovestory to you, and Namjoon hates kdramas.

During lunch time, you scroll through your Instagram and almost slam your phone on the wall. There's a new photo uploaded on Kim Seokjin's account.

kimseokjin92: Celebrating Valentine's Day on Maldives w @minsuga #couplegoals #boyfriends #valentinesday #loveislove

They are on fucking Maldives. Fucking Maldives! You grit your teeth. It's fine. Completely fine.

But the absolute peek, the moment when you almost break down into tears and curl yourself into a ball of misery, comes in the person of Jeon Jungkook. He enters the office with a bouquet of the most beautiful red roses you have ever seen, a huge grin plastered on his stupid face.

Your heart clenches in your chest. Park Jimin could never.

Jungkook hands Yeri the flowers and she laughs, slapping his chest when he starts declaiming Romeo's monologue from the Shakespeare’s tragedy. He then kisses his girlfriend deeply and lovingly, making her cheeks flush in crimson. Hoseok coos at them, Namjoon following him. You swear you saw Jungkook's tongue in the process of said heavy make out session.

(Jealously is an awful emotion, you've decided a long time ago.)

An hour later, the bouquet stands proudly on Yeri’s desk and you stare at it with melancholy. You briefly avert your gaze to Jimin's desk and the memories flash before your eyes. The same desk he had you bent over, skirt bunched around your waist and cock drilling into your pussy, when you both stayed together at work after hours not so long ago.

You mentally slap yourself. Get your shit together, woman. It's not like he broke up with you. It's just some stupid holiday. It's nothing.

“Something's wrong?’’ Yeri asks you with genuine concern written on her face.

You swallow, forcing yourself to smile. “No, everything's fine. Just a headache.”

She eyes you suspiciously. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” you say. Even though your friend doesn’t look convinced, she eventually stops bothering you.

It's all good. My boyfriend forgot about our first Valentine's Day together but everything's alright. No worries, you want to say instead.

Later that day, when you exit the elevator and walk straight to your apartment, a strange smell of something burning fills your nostrils. Is that food? A real fire? No, that's definitely some meat that stayed too long in the oven.

The closer you are, the smell becomes stronger, like it’s actually coming from your apartment. You furrow your eyebrows.

“What the fuck.” you mutter to yourself.

When you open the door, your jaw falls slack, eyes wide like saucers.

Never, in your entire life, had you thought you would see Park Jimin, your own dearest boyfriend, popping out from the kitchen with his hair disheveled, sweat coating his forehead, wearing a black suit underneath the most ridiculous apron you have ever seen: pink with a big-ass ‘mr good lookin is cookin' written in the middle.

(Can someone remind you why are you dating him? Oh, thank God he isn’t naked underneath.)

He looks completely lost when he spots you, waving awkwardly in your direction. It's probably the first time he touched something in the kitchen that isn’t coffee machine. He’s so flustered that you almost forget he nearly turned your apartment into ashes.

“Hi, babe.” he says sheepishly.

It takes all the willpower you hold not to spit a lung watching your boyfriend who absolutely hates cooking, trying to look unimpressed by the smell of burnt food. He does a pretty poor job though, an apron not helping in the situation.

“Happy Valentine's Day!’’ he exclaims perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, approaching you and planting a kiss on your cheek. And after that, you burst into hysterical laughter.

(Seriously, you almost lose your own breath three times.)

Jimin looks terrified but most importantly – put out. You’re probably hurting his enormous, almost the size of Russia pride right now. (Not your fault Jimin has the biggest praise kink on the planet.)

“Why are you laughing? Is it because of the chicken? Fine, I can’t cook for shit but I tried, okay? I didn’t have enough time and it was the middle of the night in Korea so I couldn’t just facetime my mum for advice and-”

You interrupt his rambling with a searing kiss, effectively shutting him up. He falters for a moment but quickly catches up, pulling you closer to him, placing his hands on your waist and deepening the kiss.

But then, when his about to trail kisses down your throat, you hit his arm.

“What was that for?!” Jimin yelps, looking at you with astonishment.

“I thought you fucking forgot about the Valentine’s Day!” you yell, slapping his chest. “Why didn't you tell me about this?!”

“Because the definition of surprise says you can’t reveal it sooner?” he reponds in a mocking tone.

“Oh, shut up.” you grumble and pull him in for another kiss. You could feel him smiling into it, cheekily biting onto your lower lip. He places a loving peck on your forehead and brushes the strands of your hair behind your ears. There's so much affection in his eyes you could melt into a puddle right here and there.

“I’m sorry. Jungkook told me you looked upset the whole day.” he whispers.

“I wasn't!” you protest.

“He told me you almost cried when he gave Yeri a bouquet of red roses.”

This stupid brat.

You look up at Jimin. “Fine. I was mad. And sad. Everyone was having the time of their lives and here I was, on a verge of mental breakdown because my idiot of a boyfriend supposedly forgot about the Valentine's Day.” you say, crossing your arms over chest with a pout.

Jimin rolls his eyes and takes your hand, leading you to the living room, where a bottle of (your absolute favourite) wine is standing on the table, along with candles and, yes, red roses. It's too cheesy and straight from the cringy rom-coms but you don't mind, because it's Jimin and he poured his heart into this and it's all that matters.

When he approaches you again, he isn’t wearing that stupid apron and you blush at how perfect he looks, almost painfully handsome. His hair needs a cut so it’s pushed back from his forehead. God reincarnated in the form of a smart, cocky archeologist who happens to be your boyfriend.

You're, well, in your black jeans and baby blue sweater and you probably stink, but Jimin assures you with his loving touches he doesn’t mind, never will. He always does that, looking at you with those sparkling eyes which say you're the most beautiful thing in the world for him.

And it doesn't matter how many times you scold him throughout the day, how many banters you have over silly things, because at the end of the day, in each others’ embraces, it feels like home for the both of you.

“Since the chicken chickened out,” Jimin says nonchalantly, filling your glasses with red wine. “We can always get drunk and watch some old romantic movies.”

You smirk. “You cried the last time when we watched ‘When Harry met Sally’.”

Jimin clicks his tongue. “Don't test my patience, sweetheart or you won't get the presents.” he warns.

You raise your eyebrows. You hope one of them comes in the form of his dick. Suddenly, you’re reminded of your lingerie set, so you make a mental note to wear it after the shower. “Can I see those presents now?” you ask, looking at Jimin with pleading eyes. It's exactly three seconds till he softens.

“Fine.” he mutters and heads to the bedroom.

When he comes back, he’s not alone. Literally not alone, because he's caring the most hilarious Valentine’s present you could ever think of. A giant, white teddy bear, almost in the size of him, heart-shaped balloons attached to his right paw.

“This is,” Jimin whips his head to read the name on the bear's chest. “Ted.”

You blink. “You bought me a teddy bear named Ted?”

Jimin opens his mouth to say some witty comment but he stops when he hears you sob. “Baby, sweetheart, what's wrong?” He kneels in front of you, the bear long forgotten on the floor. You burst into tears and Jimin tries to calm you down, rubbing soothing circles on your thighs.

Once you eventually stop crying and regain your normal breathing, you wipe your tear-strained cheeks and look down at your very much worried boyfriend. “You are an idiot, Park Jimin. A fucking idiot. That teddy bear is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen and I should humiliate you for giving me that but...” You take a deep breath. “But I can’t. Because I fucking love you, dumbass.”

The corners of Jimin lips lift in amusement but you’re clearly not done with your little speech, so he waits until you finish. “You organized the most cliché date ever. You read all the Grey's books. You can’t cook for shit and this stupid apron you wore? God have mercy,” You visibly cringe. “You declaim Greek philosophers when you shower. Fuck, you persuaded me to do teacher-student roleplay and I kept calling you daddy during the whole thing because you asked me to. You are everything I despise but at the same time I love you so much,” you say, tears once again welling in your eyes. “I’m sorry I’m telling you this now, even though I've realised this a long time ago.”

Jimin’s silent, so unlike him, declaring his emotions with a huge grin this time. He stands up and picks your body into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you both to your bedroom. He places you gingerly onto the mattress, hovering over your figure.

(Your fancy lingerie can wait for another occasion.)

“I love you too, ___.” he says, staring into your eyes. “You’re making me the happiest man in this world.”

You roll your eyes, however there’s no use for that because your cheeks are already tainted red. “Oh, stop being such a sap.”

He smirks. “You love when I’m like this.”

“That is, in fact, not true.”

You’re lying and he knows it, but he always lets you banter with him like this anyway.

“Then what do you want me to be today?” he asks, his hands travel down to your zipper, then pull down your jeans. “Sweet? Loving?” He helps you take off your sweater and you’re left with nothing on beside your underwear. “Or do you want me to be rough? Push you around and fuck you stupid?” You gulp, your attitude successfully shut down. “Come on, use your words.”

Somehow, you manage to gain your composure. “Want you to take off your clothes first.”

Jimin chuckles, lowly and with a promise of more to come if you’re patient and behaving well, according to his commands. “You’re not the one to give orders here, baby.” he retorts. Then, he’s gripping your knees, pulling your legs apart and putting your pussy on full display for him.

There’s already a dark, wet patch forming on your grey panties and he tsks disapprovingly. “You’re wet and I haven’t even touched you yet. You want it that much, huh?”

You nod. “Please, touch me.”

“Try again.”

So he’s in that mood today. You’ve explored a fair share of kinks with Jimin so far and what you know for sure is that he always takes the leading role in bed. He likes to dominate, be the one in charge, railing you into the mattress until you’re crying out so loud your neighbours are banging on your walls.

You slip into your role naturally, your usual confident behaviour gone and replaced with timidity. He relishes in seeing you like this, helpless and vulnerable, a stark contrast to how you act on daily basis.

Jimin pins you with his dark stare and you give in. ‘”Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

He rewards you with a feather-like touch of his fingers on your pussy. He finds your clit with ease, rubbing it with practiced strokes until more juices drip down from your hole, wetting your panties embarrassingly fast. Your legs shake with want for more, to feel him sink his digits knuckle-deep into your cunt and finger you like he did that one time in a bathroom on your flight to Japan.

He doesn’t seem the slightest bothered with your state, ignoring your pleading eyes and wanton moans. He hasn’t even taken off your underwear yet and you’re already on the verge of an orgasm.

Jimin knows your body inside and out, probably better than you do, so it doesn’t come as a surprise to you that he can sense when you’re about to climax. He withdraws his hand from your center seconds before your release. You can’t help but huff with annoyance.

“Something's wrong, babygirl?” he asks, saccharine-sweet and annoyingly innocent.

Your retort dies on your tongue the moment he decides to unbutton his white dress shirt. You’re too distracted with delicious lines of his sculpted chest to complain about your denied pleasure anymore. Your hands itch to touch him but you stay immobile, devouring him with your eyes instead.

Jimin notices you're staring and smirks. “Like what you see?”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He then stands up from the bed and motions for you to come closer. You oblige without an ounce of confusion, crawling until you’re sitting on your heels in front of him. It’s a rather humiliating position but you can’t help but feel the rush of adrenaline in your veins when he cups your chin and tilts your head up.

“Take off my pants.”

You rush to obey, unbuckling his belt with shaky hands because you know what’s coming next once his pants are pulled down. He’s already hard, the prominent bulge of his cock straining in his briefs.

“Now my underwear.”

You nearly moan out loud when his cock slaps his abdomen, mouth salivating to take him in deep but you don’t dare touch him without a directed instruction. He makes sure your eyes are on him and starts stroking himself, spreading the precum all over his length, hissing when his thumb rubs the sensitive head of his cock.

Jimin groans, low and throaty, and you whimper quietly in response. “What, baby? You want my cock that much?” he asks, his left palm cupping your cheek. You whisper a meek “Please” and he chuckles. “Come on then. Show me what that slutty mouth of yours can do. Open up.”

Your lips part on command and you nearly moan when he guides his cock into your mouth. You’ve sucked Jimin's dick enough times to know what he likes, what brings him to the edge quicker than hitting the back of your throat. You lick the tip of his cock, eyes darting to check his reaction and, just as you expected, his features twist in pleasure.

You relish in a minute or two of the control you have over him before he grows bored with your teasing and decides to fuck your mouth instead. But for now, you make sure to have him suffer a little for that stunt he pulled earlier when he didn’t make you come.

You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks for extra stimulation. Your hands reach to fondle his balls and you smirk around his cock when you hear a groan leave Jimin's mouth. “Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek. You lean into his touch, moaning at the praise. “My pretty slut.”

The first hit on the back of your throat makes you gag because fuck, is he big. The only thing bigger than Jimin's ego seems to be his dick, apparently. When he threads fis fingers through your hair you know what’s about to come; jaw relaxed, saliva dripping down from the corners of your mouth, you’re ready to be ruined.

He withdraws, giving you exactly five seconds to breathe and then pushes forcefully inside. Your mind is filled with mental images of him giving your pussy the same treatment later. You would whimper at the thought, if your mouth wasn’t stuffed full of dick. Instead, you give your best, swallowing every inch of him obediently.

“That’s it,” he rasps, clamping one hand on the back of your neck for better leverage. “You’re doing so good, baby.” When he nudges the back of your throat again, you feel him throb. He pulls away from the warmth of your mouth seconds later, panting heavily. He falls back onto the bed and pats his thighs. “Come here.”

You scoot closer to him and crawl onto his lap. He smiles at you from below, pulling you in for a kiss. The hands he previously gripped your waist with now travel upwards, unhooking your bra. Your hips unconsciously move, pussy gliding along the flexed muscles of his thigh.

Jimin notices your desperate attempt at getting some friction on your most sensitive parts and helps you rock your hips. He moves your panties to the side and you moan, felling the delicious pressure on your bare center. He’s watching with amusement as you’re falling apart on his thigh, thumb reaching to rub your clit. You cry out, climaxing so hard you’re almost seeing stars behind your closed eyelids.

He keeps helping you ride out your high until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation. “Did you like it?” he then asks, urging you to look at him. “You were so desperate to come, sweetheart. Fucking yourself on my thigh like a bitch in heat,” You whine instead of responding, earning a harsh smack on your ass. “Use your words.”

Another slap lands on your cheek and you mewl. “Yes, I loved it, sir.”

He chuckles, maneuvering your body so you’re now positioned over his cock. He gives your ass a firm squeeze and you whimper, arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs despite orgasming just minutes ago. “Ride me, baby.” he says.

You hurry to obey, guiding his cock inside you. It's a tight fit but your wetness makes it smoother to push him deeper. “So big,” you mumble, bottoming out. You know damn well Jimin likes to be praised and if the smirk that stretches on his lips is anything to go by, he enjoys what you just said. “That feels so good, sir.” You start moving your hips languidly.

“Yeah?” Jimin quips, hands gripping your waist so tightly it almost makes the skin bruise. “Then show me what a good girl you are for me. Fuck, look at you. You’re so hot.” His palms cup your breasts, thumbs stroking your nipples.

You keen at the praise and quicken your pace. Your thighs start to burn but you ignore that, bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick like there’s no tomorrow. The room is filled with lewd noises, skin slapping on skin. Jimin looks down, staring at his cock coated in your juices as it disappears inside your hole. He curses at the sight.

Your legs start to shake, huffs leaving your lips. “Sir–please,” you whine, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.

“What do you need, babygirl?” he asks, pinching your nipples. You squeal, your pace losing its previous rhythm.

“I’m so close.” you stammer. “Please–touch me.”

“Where you do you want me to touch you, baby?” He ignores your whimpers, the way your pussy keeps squeezing his cock in a vice grip. “Here?” He touches your tits again and you shake your head violently. “Or here–” His fingers find your clit and you cry out loudly. You feel so full, his cock hits your cervix every time you drop down onto him.

“Yes, yes,” you chant, mouth wide open and eyes squeezed shut. You probably look right now like a professional porn star but you couldn’t care less, not when you’re so close to the climax. “Sir–fuckfuckfuck, please!”

“There you go,” Jimin coos, circling your sensitive bud with his thumb. “Come for me, baby.”

You’re gushing around his dick, arousal leaking out of your hole and coating his thighs with your release. Your upper body gives out and you collapse onto Jimin, your cunt pulsing from the intense pleasure you’ve just experienced.

“Oh god,” you mumble. “I just saw the answer to the whole universe.”

You feel Jimin's chest shaking with laughter and when you look up, you find him grinning at you. “That good?”

“That good.” you confirm, sighing tiredly.

“Are you okay?” You hear him asking. No matter how much he likes to push you around and fuck until you’re seeing stars, he always makes sure if you’re feeling comfortable to continue.

You spare him a nod. “You know I can handle it,” you say, lifting yourself up. “I’m a tough girl, right?” Despite the oversensitivity, you start rocking your hips again. “M-made for you.”

Jimin smirks. “Yeah, made for me,” he confirms and slaps your ass. Your pussy flatters around his cock. “Not like this,” he mutters and turns you onto your back with one, swift motion. “Much better.”

You pout. “You didn’t like it when I was riding your cock, sir?” You’re bluffing, but a girl can her fun too.

He clicks his tongue, guiding his cock through your folds again. “Oh, baby, I was enjoying it very much,” he says, picking up his speed. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer. “But now I want it harder.”

He fucks you just like he likes the most; fast and rough, unforgiving. He leans down for a messy kiss that’s all teeth tongue and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees his saliva dripping down your chin.

(He decides right here and there that he might wanna explore his newfound fantasy soon.)

Soon you’re feeling the coil in your stomach tightening for the second time, embarrassingly quickly so. You moan, cunt squeezing around his dick. “Again?” Jimin asks, voice laced with both mirth and disbelief. Tears well in your eyes and you give him a nod. “Such a fucking slut.” he spits, slithering himself into you even faster than before.

Your third and final orgasm is so powerful and sudden, it nearly makes you black out. Jimin curses, fucking you through it. “Kiss me,” you whimper deliriously and he obliges, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. “I love you.” you whisper into his lips and that’s what sends him over the edge.

“I love you, I love you–fuck.” he groans and spills himself inside, coating your pussy with his seed.

He collapses next you, chest heaving with every exhale. Your legs feel like jelly and you know you’ll have trouble walking tomorrow. Just when you’re about to tell Jimin to call in sick and spend the whole day in bed instead, he suddenly sits up.

“Wait, I forgot I have another present for us.” he says, rushing to pick something up from underneath the bed.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Jimin, I swear to God, if you bought us matching t-shirts–”

He grins like a child, showing you two white pillows, the most basic ones you could ever think of, with ‘his side’ and ‘her side' written on them. It's cringy and ridiculous and you fight an urge to punch him, but you don't.

Because it's Jimin and you will never complain about it.

Because you love him. And that's all that matters.

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