#{this is going on the fridge holy heck}

[corruptedcaps]

Bad Blonde: Dora

This is a follow up to Bad Blonde

Lucy had hoped that a good night sleep would have cleared her mind of any further urge to put on the wig but her dreams had made sure to stoke the fire of her desire. Her dreams were filled with images of herself as Lucia. She was feared and loved in equal measure and took what she wanted without care for anyone else. It felt liberating. She was filled with such confidence and power in her dream world that when she woke the next morning she felt incredibly deflated.

At breakfast she stared intensely at the fridge freezer knowing what was hidden behind the door. She could almost hear the voice of the wig call out to her, tempting her to open it, rip open the garbage bag and shove the wig on her head. She found herself wet at the mere thought of it as she sat eating her breakfast. She felt on edge and wasn’t sure she could last. She hadn’t even noticed Dora walk in.

“Hey babe, you look like a wreck.” Dora said bluntly. Lucy knew her girlfriend meant it out of worry but the comment made her snap.

“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” Lucy hissed at Dora who seemed taken aback by sudden vitriol.

“I-I just mean you look like you had a bad night sleep is all.” Dora said sheepishly backing away slightly.

“Well I did if you must know but keep your comments to yourself.” Lucy said filling with rage by the second.

“Lucy what’s gotten into you? First it was that nasty comment yesterday then I get home and you didn’t get the food you said you would and now you’re acting like a b-i-t-c-h.” Dora said finding some courage but almost instantly regretting it when she saw the fire in Lucy’s eyes.

Lucy was livid staring at Dora. How dare she be so insolent! Who did she think she was speaking to? Lucy was a goddess compared to Dora.

That’s when it hit Lucy. She wanted the power over Dora, she wanted to be her bully more than she wanted to be her girlfriend. The wig had given her a taste of being a bad bitch and now she was addicted. She needed to get out of the house and away from the wig before she became the monster she was desperate to be.

“Just stay the fuck away from me.” Lucy said pushing past Dora and heading outside away from the temptation. Of course Lucy meant what she said to Dora as a way of protecting her but Dora stood in the kitchen, eyes filling with water, not knowing what she has done to so upset her girlfriend.

Unfortunately at times like this Dora turned to something sweet to make herself feel better. Opening the freezer to take out her favourite container of ice cream she was instead faced with a black garbage bag. Pulling it out she was surprised at how light it was. Out of curiosity she ripped open the bag to find out what was inside.

“What the heck?” Dora said finding the bright blonde wig inside. She recognized it immediately as the wig from the store and thought Lucy must have bought it but why was it in the fridge. All her questions seemed to fade away though as soon as she touched the wig. She was instantly enamoured by it and a great desire to wear it arose inside her.

Lifting the wig over her own dull brown hair she gently moved it into place. Within seconds the blonde hair was tightly on her head and for a second she thought about what Lucy had said yesterday about the wig not fitting her head. Maybe she had been right.

“Or maybe she was jealous of how good you would look with me on your head?” The wig cooed inside Dora’s head. Dora was understandably shocked to hear someone else’s voice in her head but still didn’t take off the wig.

“Holy cow, are you real? Am I going mad?” Dora asked into the air.

“Of course I’m real honey and you should be mad. Mad for what Lucy puts you through. For the way she treats you. You deserve more respect, not just from her but from everyone.” The wig said.

Dora had a sudden realization while wearing the wig. This was why Lucy acted so mean yesterday, while she was so on edge today. Even now Dora could feel the wigs tendrils trying to corrupt her. It felt good but Dora knew the wig was bad news. It was trying to turn her against the love of her life and imagined it had tried to do the same to Lucy. A plan formulated in her mind to get the wig out of their lives, she just had to play along…

“Respect? Me? Look at me I’m a flabby nobody.” Dora said rejected.

“That’s true but let’s see if we can’t make you a hot somebody!” The wig said moments before Dora felt her body begin to shift and transform. Her weight instantly rearranged itself around her body giving her a sleek but still curvaceous form with any excess fat going straight to her tits.

“Holy shit! What have you done? I look so…so… so fucking sexy.” Dora said letting the profanity fly. Her mind was still on the plan at hand but she was loving the way her new body looked with the combo of the blonde hair. She didn’t have the same hang up with being blonde as Lucy and in fact admired the gorgeous blonde women who lifted their noses at them on a daily basis. Sure they were mean bitches but they were popular, loved and feared in equal measure.

“Don’t you think you deserve respect now?” The wig asked. To the wigs surprise Dora took a moment to answer.

At her core Dora wanted to be accepted but also wanted to stand out from the crowd. That’s why she loved thrift shopping, she wanted to be noticed even if she was mocked for it. Now however she could be noticed in a more pleasing way. She’d never be mocked like this. Her mind swam with the possibilities but her conscious pushed her forward with her plan.

“I guess but respect comes with some amount of power right? I feel like I would strain to lift a handbag right now.” Dora said stroking her soft but weak arms.

“You’re totally right! What is respect without strength to back it up?” The wig said happy that Dora was suggesting ways to corrupt her further. The next moment Dora felt her whole body tingle as here muscles toned and strengthened. The look of her body remained unchanged but she knew she could now lift a man twice her size with ease. The thought alone made her wet. She lifted up a stone paperweight on her desk and squeezed it. Easily she turned it into dust. She knew if she was to defeat the wig she had only one shot before she gave in to its corruption.

“Mmmm yessss no one will mess with me now! However raw strength can only take me so far. You have real power. You can change my very body with a thought. Power like that would make me unstoppable don’t you think?” Dora said admiring her improved form in the mirror nonchalantly while hoping her plan would work and thankfully for her the wig took the bait.

“Absolutely! Dora you are a joy to work with, you have such naughty ideas. Take my power and become a goddess!” The wig purred and Dora felt her body suddenly levitate off the ground as it became infused with dark magic. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as black electricity came from her head and enveloped her body. Electricity which unexpectedly burned away any remnants of her soul.

She moaned with delight as her mind filled up with dark schemes and the desire to enact them. She had full knowledge now of the wigs capabilities and couldn’t wait to use them. She felt unleashed for the first time, well mostly.

“Doesn’t my power feel delicious running through your veins. You should be honoured, I’ve never let anyone share them before.” The wig said as Dora slowly returned to the floor with a cold look on her face and a more confident stance in her posture.

”Don’t worry you’ll never have to share them with anyone again.” Dora said with a smirk as she ripped the wig off her head. Her body remained the same however except her hair was back to its normal brown colour. Walking over to some candles on her table she picked up the lighter that was beside it and without hesitation lit the wig on fire.

“Now that I have your powers I don’t need you anymore. My plan was to strip you of your abilities so no one could be corrupted by you again and it worked flawlessly but I didn’t expect for the magic to wipe away that pesky soul of mine. What a delightful side effect. As a result it awoke the bitch inside me. It opened Pandora’s box if you will. Mmmm what a hot name, I think I’ll take it.” She spoke to the wig as she slowly watched it disintegrate with pleasure.

As the last hair went up in flames, Pandora smirked knowing she was in charge now. No wig, no Lucy, no anybody, she would never play second fiddle to anyone again.

Walking back to the mirror she looked at her new body with glee but also with plans. What the wig had done was a good start but with its unlimited power she would become every bit the goddess she now felt.

Most were simple improvements on what she already had. She increased her cup size, tanned her skin, grew her nails etc so the most obvious change she made was to turn her hair to the blonde colour of the wig. It might have been residual influence of the wig in her mind but couldn’t see herself as anything other than a blonde now.

“There we go. Perfection. Now to make sure I’m completely unstoppable.” She said taking out her phone and texting Lucy asking her what the strange bag was in the freezer. She knew that would have Lucy scurrying home. In the meantime it would give Pandora some time to test out her ability to shapeshift clothes into something more fitting her demeanour.

Less than 30 minutes later Lucy burst into the apartment calling out for Dora and hearing only a soft ‘here’ come from their bedroom. Pushing the door open Lucy expected the worse and found her fear realized to see a completely transformed Dora sitting before her clad in red velvet, holding a glass of wine, looking every inch the villain.

“Oh god Dora, it got to you too?! You have to take it off before it permanently corrupts you.” Lucy pleaded but Pandora just smiled an eerie smile at her.

“Why? So you can have it to yourself? So you can become Lucia?” Pandora said.

“No of course not I-you, eh it’s just evil is all and it’s no good for you or for me.” Lucy said flustered for being called out.

“Oh dear it had you bad didn’t it? You’re stammering and lying to the love of your life. You would do anything to have that power again wouldn’t you? To become that bitch Lucia again wouldn’t you?” Pandora said getting to her feet and standing imposingly over Lucy.

“No how could you… I mean it was nice but… oh fuck you’re right! I loved being hot and mean and evil! I came rushing back not to protect you but to have the power to myself but I’m too late.” Lucy said dropping her head in failure. Pandora however reached out and lifted her girlfriend’s head so they were staring eye to eye.

“Lucky for you the power the hair had no longer exists in the wig. Mainly because the wig no longer exists so it doesn’t make the rules anymore. I do.” Pandora smirked as she reached behind her head and pulled at her long golden hair producing a large ponytail like clump that didn’t diminish her own hair. In fact it was like she pulled the hair from thin air.

“I’ll give you a choice. Become my second in command and receive a fraction of the power you would have had or remain your unremarkable self. Lucy or Lucia, the choice is yours.” Pandora said holding the hair out for Lucy who waited no time at all the grab the hair and put it on her head.

The hair eagerly latched onto her own hair creating a tight high ponytail and spread outward like a virus turning the brown into blonde. Lucy threw her head back as the corruption rushed from down her body giving her the body she so craved.

Within seconds she had completely transformed into a new woman, she was once again Lucia. This time however the creeping ill will towards Dora that the wig had poisoned her mind with was gone. In fact she positively adored her. She knew that she would do anything for her now. Anything for her Queen.

“Welcome back Lucia. How do you feel?” Pandora said practically proud of her first creation.

“Perfect my mistress. Thank you for deeming me worthy of you power. I am forever in your debt.” Lucia said looking at Pandora with undying loyalty.

“Good. You will help me recruit more girls who desire a status change in their life. I will provide them with ponytails to give them everything they desire turning them into my army of slutails. With them at my disposal, I’ll enough to take control.” Pandora said gathering her bag and preparing to leave.

“Control what mistress?” Lucia said following obediently. Pandora turned around and smiled at her ignorant thrall.

“Why everything of course.” Pandora said followed by a sinister chuckle. The two changed women left their dingy apartment with conquest on their mind.

THE END

[worstmombracket]

Thank god you included Bro Strider. Imagine hating your son so much you refuse to acknowledge what he is to you while raising him from birth. Imagine refusing to touch your baby directly so you use a puppet to feed him instead. Imagine deciding the best way to train him to survive the apocalypse is to throw his toddler ass off a roof. Imagine throwing him down the apartment stairs so often your son makes it a reoccurring “joke” in his comic. Imagine having cameras all over the apartment watching your child’s every move, which are hooked to livestreams on your puppet porn website. Puppets in the shower. Puppets in the blender so your son can destroy them for snuff films. No food in the fridge, just a dangerous pile of swords. It clearly doesn’t dispense water either, since the ice maker is full of cherry bombs. I could go on, but you get the point.

Holy heck that’s what he does wrong??? I just thought he was neglectful and gross I’m only on act 5 act 1 wadda hell???

Uh b-bad dad… propaganda???

[mslizsteele-stories]

Rosé

☾︎✯☽︎

The club was already packed by the time my shift started. I could feel the presence of the loud music and bass pass through me like a ghost taking possession of its host. The neon lights were moving, flashing and zipping around and across the place in a frenzy. People were dancing, grinding against each other and making out while others already crowded the bar waiting for their drinks and to be attended to.

Show time.

"Hi, welcome to The Coup d'Etat. What can I do for you?" I smiled at the group of ladies waiting at the bar.

"Hi, can you open up a bar tab for us?" one of them, a brunette, asked, nodding towards her friends, who were drooling at the sight of me - nothing new.

"Sure. Will you be paying in cash or card?"

"Cash, we're splitting the bill."

"Okay, what would you like for your tab?"

"Soju will be fine. Thanks."

I took out a tray and some glasses before striding over to the fridge to collect the soju. After filling the bucket with ice, and placing the bottles of soju inside, I placed the bucket into the tray and pushed it toward the customers. "Here you go. Let me know when you want to close your tab."

"Sure thing."

They left for their booth, but not before one of them winked at me.

As I was about to move on to the next batch of customers, I bumped into a blonde woman who, from the looks of it, was in a rush to get to wherever she wanted to go.

"I'm so sorry." She apologized with a bow until she had a good look at me. "Hey, you must be the new guy GD told me about. The guy I'm supposed to monitor during my shift."

I quirked an eyebrow, "Sounds like your boss doesn't trust me."

She waved her hand, "He does that to every new employee. Heck! He did that to me when I first started working here. I'm Chaeyoung, by the way." She stuck out her hand towards me.

I shook her hand. "Ollie."

"Well, Ollie. Normally, I would train you on what to do and how to handle the POS system, but it seems like you know your way around it. So, I'll serve the tables while you handle things here at the bar. Sound good?"

"Sure thing."

The rest of the evening was pretty much uneventful aside from tending to the customers. Chaeyoung was anywhere and everywhere, taking orders, clearing the tables, and checking on the customers while also helping me at the bar when need be. I was pretty much accustomed to the nightlife in the club; watching people dance and have the time of their life, the music, the lights (and thank God the ventilation in the club was good).

"You okay there?" I asked the blonde who was leaning against the bar and groaned.

"I'm just glad that I can rest for a bit." She said. "Why do the weekends always be so damn busy?"

"Well, a lot of people like to spend their weekends going to clubs and bars, especially college and university kids," I said. "Besides, more people. More tips."

She groaned again. "And the fact that I'm a broke uni kid is not doing me any favours."

"Well, I wouldn't know since I'm not a uni kid."

She looked at me confused. "Did you drop out?"

"Nope. I never went to college or university after I graduated high school. Went straight to the military and left two years later."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty."

"Holy shit!" her eyebrows flew up. "You're old."

"Hey, I'm not that old." I frowned. "Gosh. What is up with you kids and thinking thirty is old."

"That's literally the age to already be married and have kids."

"Yet your generation is already getting married and having kids at eighteen."

She opened her mouth to retort, but no sound or syllable left her mouth. I chuckled at her reaction, knowing that she knew I was right.

"Anyway!" she changed the subject. "Where are you from? You don't sound like you're here. Not to forget, you look way too exotic to be Korean."

"I'm Chinese, but I grew up in Australia."

"Oh, my God! You're an Aussie!" she squealed, switching to English with a strong Aussie accent.

I chuckled. "Yes, I'm an Aussie."

"Chris and Felix are going to be so hyped when I tell him we have another Aussie on the team."

"How many are there."

"It's just the three of us. Other foreigners work here, but either way, it's good to meet another foreigner. Us foreigner folks gotta stick together, am I right?"

I hummed, conceding with her statement.

Suddenly the music stopped, and the lights turned. My eyes found the stage where the DJ booth was. I saw smoke lurking around the stage and blending with the deep blue neon lights until a song with a fusion of moombahton and Latin trap music started playing. Eight feminine figures emerged and walked up to the stage and stood in line, four standing across from each other as though they made a path for someone.

The spotlight shined on the ninth dancer, a dark-haired woman whose hair was just above her shoulders and her bangs covering her forehead. She wore a white crop top with crystal tinsels along with a pair of denim shorts with a glitter belt around her waist and a pair of white glitter knee-high combat boots.

My eyes were focused on her as she walked up to the centre of the stage, and her dancers broke their formation. The way her body movement was in synch with the rhythm of the song. The expressions she made while she danced. Everyone's attention was on her and her alone.

"That's Lisa." Chaeyoung's voice broke me out of whatever spelt that woman had put me under.

I looked at her.

"The girl you're staring at." She clarified. "Her name is Lisa. She's one of the dancers here, and people pay a lot of money to see her perform, let alone give them a private performance in one of our VIP lounges. She's pretty good, ain't she?"

I turned my gaze back to the dancer. "I'm no dance guru since I can't dance to save my life, but she's pretty good, I guess."

"Oof! Don't say that in her presence, though. She will make sure you'll change that statement from pretty good to pretty amazing." She playfully bumped her shoulder against mine. "But she's pretty chill when she's off stage. A little mischievous but pretty chill."

I hummed, making no comment. Not that I needed to anyway. I did consider Chaeyoung's comment about this girl, but I decided to push it aside and not dwell much on it. It wasn't like I was going to see her outside of work, let alone talk to her. It was probably better that way.

"Well, break time is over." Chaeyoung stretched. "Those tables aren't going to serve themselves."

"Good luck," I said as she left the bar.

<-Prev

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[ad-hawkeye]

Holy heck. If the summaries and reactions you posted are true, I want that Artem card. Big fridge aside, I want that card. That's something I was really interested to see if they were going to do with him, especially considering his second birthday card. It sounds like arc-wise, it's a bit of a continuation of that card's premise.

But man, I do think that out of all the LI's, I don't really think we've seen Artem hit rock bottom as much as the other LI's. So if he ends up being vulnerable enough that he has to completely leave himself in Rosa's care, I want that card.

"big fridge aside" 💀💀 PLEASE this is taking me out, artem is NOT beating the large ass fridge allegations

but OMG RIGHT??? i didn't include them, but i saw quite a few cn fans talking about how this sss card's story felt like it showed the growth in artem and rosa's relationship since his second birthday ssr. which. VERY EXCITING that is genuinely music to my ears HAHA

also yep. we haven't seen that like. at all. which has made me sooo disappointed bc like i WANT to see that i WANT to see him vulnerable. it makes the contrast from his typical lawyer self that much more compelling. im so thankful we're FINALLY GETTING SOMETHING. i actually redownloaded tot again just to save up for this one once it drops in global... ahaha..

[rosebete]

Gift Exchange Fic

Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy this, it’s been great getting to know you the past few weeks :D

Hooked on All These Feelings

  The snow fell, silently, onto the grounds outside the library window. Belle hadn’t yet noticed the change in weather, as she was currently reading one of the few mystery novels at the castle she hadn’t yet read, and was getting caught up in the unravelling investigation. While admittedly slow in the setup of the mystery, the novel was swiftly growing denser and denser with each revelation. She was sat on a window seat, one leg curled beneath her, the other dangling over the edge towards the floor. The curve of her skirt – a light green that brought out the same colour in her eyes – was deep enough to cover most of her lower body in its volumes of fabric, but it was not quite long enough, given her current position, to cover the good inch of her stockinged calf that showed between her skirt hem and her boot.

  The boot wasn’t hers – none of the clothes she was currently wearing belonged to her, as a matter of fact. She had arrived at the castle still in summer shoes and a light dress, to match the light, breezy October day. When November breezes had blustered across the countryside and begun to chill the castle, both the Beast and her servants had insisted that Belle wear some of the clothes in the wardrobes, since they were actually made with winter in mind. She had agreed, probably more out of her own discomfort than because the Beast had asked her to. They were still wary of each other then, unsure where either stood. The Beast flattered herself that they were closer now. It might have been because of Belle’s sweet smile, or the way she could laugh at the Beast, or crack jokes. Or it might have been because seeing a beautiful woman wearing the Beast’s old clothes, and looking far more comfortable in them than she ever had, did something complicated and strange to her heart.

  Belle’s foot swung idly back and forth, in time to the rhythm of some song that only she could hear. The Beast watched her out the corner of one eye. The eyelets caught the light as her foot moved, glinting copper. The same copper could be seen in Belle’s hair, thick and resplendent over her shoulders. The Beast could count the number of times Belle had worn her hair loose on one hand. The first had been the night she ran into the woods, and the Beast had run to save her.

  (She can still remember it now, over a year since the transformation, although she doesn’t like to. The loss of her temper, and the look of terror on Belle’s face. How Belle ran out of the castle as quickly as she could, reneging on her promise – and who could blame her? A guilt-ridden check of the mirror, which revealed the wolves, which resulted in her following Belle to the forest before she consciously chose to. She can still see the scars on her forearm that the wolf-fight left, no longer raised and pink, but there nevertheless. She can still remember the split-second before the wolves noticed her presence, and one was inches away from Belle’s face. She doesn’t remember fainting from shock, or the half-conscious state in which Belle eased her onto Phillippe and took her back home. But she remembers waking up in her armchair before the fire, and seeing Belle, her hair loose around her shoulders, worn out and worried, but there, for better or worse.)

  The second time had been a week ago at some point during the night, when both of them had come to the library for some comfort-reading. Belle had been in her shift, dark circles under her eyes and hair half-falling out of the plait she had braided it into for sleep. It had taken her a moment to realise that the Beast was there, and she had jumped at the sight of her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” she’d said. “I didn’t realise anyone was awake.”

  “I come here sometimes, when I have trouble sleeping,” the Beast had responded by way of explanation. “Books are a comfort, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” Belle had smiled. “I never felt quite as alone, growing up, as long as I something to read. Whenever I had a nightmare, or trouble sleeping, I’d open my curtains and read by the lamplight – or the moonlight, once we moved to the country.”

  “You didn’t always live in Molyneaux?” The Beast had sat at that point, realising that the conversation would not be their typical short exchange.

  “No,” Belle said. “My parents and I used to live in Paris, many years ago. But there was a plague scare, when I was around five or six, and they decided to leave for Lyons. After my mother died, Papa decided to move to the countryside, and we lived in several different towns before Molyneaux.” The speech, tempered as it was with a hint of a smile, had the air of something well-rehearsed.

  “Have you been living in Molyneaux long?” the Beast had asked. A decade of speaking with the same people had left her conversational skills rusty, to say the least, but she could remember the basics of politeness.

  “Since I was fifteen, so … nearly five years, now,” Belle said. “I didn’t realise it had been that long,” she added in a murmur.

  “Did you … like it there?” The Beast was unsure why she had kept questioning her. The topic of Belle’s life was one which could only bring awkwardness to both parties. But there was something intriguing in Belle’s words and manner which had urged the Beast to keep her talking.

  Belle had shrugged. “It was very beautiful,” she’d said. “Like a painting. Or a model set. And the town was always bustling with some news or other.”

  The Beast had said nothing, instead letting her tail swish silently beneath the folds of her shift. She had almost forgotten that she was wearing something feminine in front of Belle – but when trousers were more dignified for everyday use, and the cut of her old clothes only emphasised the form which she no longer possessed, it was little wonder that stays, petticoats, and bodices held little of the appeal they once had. She now only wore her shift to sleep in, and she had decided long ago not to question how her clothes had altered to her new size.

  Judging the conversation to be at an end, the Beast had walked over to the farthest corner of the opposite sofa to where Belle was sitting, just close enough that the candlelight could reach her. There, she picked up the book she had abandoned earlier that day – a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo she was making her way through for the third time. Silently, the two women had read until the candle began sputtering hopelessly – and by then, the first light of predawn had begun to stain the horizon. The Beast had looked up, noticing the differing quality of light, only to see that Belle had fallen asleep in the middle of reading her book. Her plait had come fully undone by then, the shimmering ribbon tangled in her dark hair. Without putting much thought to the action, the Beast had lifted a spare throw from another chair and draped it over Belle’s body, tucking it in with almost impersonal neatness at her shoulders, knees, and feet. She’d fled in a panic moments later, once her thoughts had caught up to her again, and Belle hadn’t mentioned the incident in the week since then.

  Now, the Beast realised with a rising horror that she had allowed her gaze to linger on Belle’s form for too long, and she was looking back at her with a vaguely puzzled expression.

  “Is everything alright?” Belle asked.

  “I – uh – well, yes – it’s snowing,” the Beast said in a clumsy rush, jerking her head to the window beyond Belle. She hoped that while she had been distracted, she had been looking at least slightly at the window, for her excuse to be at all plausible. Belle turned her head, and the Beast saw the curve of her cheeks rise in a smile.

  “So it is,” she agreed. “It hasn’t snowed since – since the night I came here,” she said. “I wonder if it’ll stick.”

  The Beast hummed non-committedly. “It’s a pain when it snows.”

  “Really?” Belle asked. “I love the snow – even when it means extra work, shovelling the paths and taking care of Phillippe, I can’t help but look out at the untouched countryside and just … just drink it in.” She laid aside her book, keeping a finger in her place. “And you can warm yourself by the fire, just thinking about how good it is that you’re in a warm house, and can look out at the snow – of course, if it’s stormy then that’s a different matter. But I don’t see what’s so awful about snow.”

  “Whenever I go out in it, the snow clumps around my legs so that I look like I’m covered in large, white pebbles,” the Beast did not whine. “I walk stupidly until they can melt off, and even then it’s a choice between letting it melt before the fire, and rinsing it off with hot water.”

  “Oh, woe are the sufferings of suchlike as ye,” Belle teased. “If it’s stuck tomorrow I’m going out there, and you’re coming with me, and you’ll enjoy it.”

  The Beast laughed. “I never said I disliked snow – just that it was a pain, which it is. Even you can’t deny it.”

  Belle blushed prettily, and the Beast felt a sudden flutter in her chest. “That may be,” Belle said, and the Beast suddenly had to concentrate on what she was saying. “But I’d still like to go out, if it’s clear.”

  “Alright, then,” the Beast smiled. The two of them smiled companionably at each other for a moment, before Belle picked up her book again. The Beast felt a hunger within her, for the conversation to continue. For her to make Belle smile or blush again. “What are you reading?” she asked casually. “You go through these so quickly, it’s like you’re on a new book every three days.”

  Belle laid her book aside again. “It’s The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins. I’ve never read it before, and the blurb was intriguing, to say the least.”

  “I remember that one,” the Beast said. “The one with two sisters – one ugly and intelligent, and one beautiful and naive, isn’t it?”

  “And a man,” Belle laughed. “Since he begins the narrative, I’m surprised you forgot him.”

  “I choose to remember the enjoyable parts,” the Beast countered. “And men, valuable though they may be, hold little enjoyment compared to the exploits of women.”

  She didn’t know why she said that. She had never told a single soul outwith the castle about her nature before. But ever since she had been rescued from certain hypothermia and a blood infection, the Beast had trusted Belle. Hidden behind her legs, the very tip of her tail began thrashing to and fro as an outlet of nervous energy.

  “I have to agree with you there,” Belle said. “It’s a shame that our contemporaries view women as too weak or feeble to have adventures of their own, otherwise I would scarcely bother reading about the thoughts and feelings of their male characters – which, of course, are always vastly superior to the thoughts and feelings of their female ones.”

  Words which were innocent enough – a girl’s expression of frustration at not reading about adventurous, excitable women. But there was something in the tilt of her head, the shy half-curve of her lip, that assured the Beast that Belle, quite definitely, viewed women the same way that she did. The Beast smiled fully, and Belle ducked her head, allowing her hair to fall over her shoulder and hide her face like a curtain.

  “You would probably enjoy this part of The Count of Monte Cristo, then,” the Beast said. “Dumas has many dynamic characters, of course. But in my reading, I had forgotten just how engaging Eugenie Danglars and Louise d’Armilly were. They are … intimate friends, who plan to run away together.”

  “Intriguing,” Belle said, setting aside her book with a bookmark, rather than her finger. She swung her other leg down off the window seat, so that now her skirts hung an inch or two above her dangling toes. “But when you say intimate friends …”

  “I don’t know how familiar you are with the Greek poets,” the Beast said, “but Eugenie apparently wears Minerva’s breastplate, which was said to cover Sappho.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand the reference,” Belle said.

  “They are … certainly more than friends,” the Beast said with a chuckle. “Sappho lived on the isle of Lesbos, with only women.”

  Realisation dawned on Belle’s face. “I see,” she said, tucking a strand of her behind her ear and winding the rest of it along her finger. “Do you have any of her poetry?”

  “I don’t think so,” the Beast said. “My parents … my father prioritised Homer, Hesiod, Sophocles, Cicero, Dante – the Classical men.” Her lip stiffened. She remembered her father as a loving man, but he and her mother had died so long ago that her memories of them melded with the impressions they had left upon the castle. “Whatever female writers you find in this library are my mother’s influence, and hers alone.”

  “Oh,” Belle said quietly. “Well,” she continued in a slightly brighter tone, “it’s good that Mmlles Danglars and d’Armilly have each other to run away with.”

  “You can read it, if you like,” the Beast offered. She held the book out slightly, but Belle shook her head a little.

  “I would, and happily, but you’re in the middle of reading it. It hardly seems fair to take you away from it.”

  “I’m right at the chapters where they run away,” the Beast pleaded. “It won’t be any trouble to me – I’ll even mark the page.”

  “You could read it aloud,” Belle suggested. “I – I mean,” she suddenly continued, blushing steadily, “it just seems like a simple solution to the problem – this way we can both experience it at the same time – I’m sorry, you’ve probably got better things to do –”

  “Belle,” the Beast said with a small smile. “It’s quite alright. I’d be happy to read it aloud. I must warn you, though,” she said with a grimace masquerading as a smile, “that my voice will not stretch to different character’s voices.”

  “I like your voice just fine,” Belle said. “It’s deep, and husky, but it suits you.”

  While there were few things about her curse that the Beast was thankful for, the absence of a visible blush was one of those things. Belle had paid her idle compliments before, praising her taste in books or laughing at her jokes. Those had been, to the Beast’s knowledge, the kind of things any girl would say to her friend – or someone she was cordial with, at least. But to have a compliment from her now, with the knowledge that they were both women who loved other women …

  “Come over here, so you can hear me better,” the Beast said. “Sit by me; tell me if I’m going too fast.”

  Harsh words; words which Belle would have bristled at three weeks earlier. But the Beast had stammered over every one of them, and had patted the sofa beside her gently, twice. Belle stood, her skirts swinging down to the floor, and settled beside the Beast. She kept a little distance, but not enough for the Beast to be unaware of her steady breathing, and the heat of her arm.

  The Beast took a breath, and began to read.

    “… and the people gave a great shout. ‘Arthur is King.’”

  “Told you so,” Ève said with a grin.

  “Ève, you’ve read this book before,” Belle laughed. “You know what happens in it.”

  “Am I not allowed to take pleasure in re-reading my own books, now?” Ève gasped melodramatically, clasping one hand to her heart. “You wound me, Belle. You really do.”

  “Drama queen,” Belle smirked. She lifted a hand to Ève’s chin, and pulled her down into a kiss. Ève hummed happily, moving her hand down Belle’s shoulder to her waist. The book fell, forgotten, out of Belle’s hand to the floor as she ran her fingers through Ève’s long, fair hair. Belle’s bodice was soft against Ève’s fingers, and she rubbed in light, soothing circles as they parted lips with an intake of breath.

  “Ève, you made me lose my place,” Belle complained, only half-serious. “We are supposed to be reading this to practice English for the Ambassador.”

  “I didn’t catch you complaining,” Ève smirked. She slipped her hand further around Belle’s waist, shifting her closer by the small of her back, and was gratified by her slight blush. “And besides, you are the one who kissed me, so the distraction is really your fault.”

  “Your interjection started this whole conversation –” Belle started, but was swiftly cut off by a rain of kisses over her face from Ève. When she eventually reached her mouth again, Belle twined her arms around Ève’s neck, the force of which sent them tumbling backwards onto the sofa. After a few minutes of thorough kissing, Belle pushed herself up on her elbows, her lips slightly swollen and her eyes bright.

  “Do you ever wonder if this … this joy will stop?” she asked. “Not completely, I mean, but – well, it still feels like a honeymoon phase. I keep finding myself wondering when we’ll settle down and be calmer about everything.”

  “It’s been almost a year already,” Ève said, reaching up to stroke Belle’s face. “And we’ve fought more than once since that day, my darling. This might be what it’s like for us.”

  (Last January: The ball with Belle, which had been entirely Cogsworth’s idea and which had (in the end, at least) worked. Ève had worn hose and an old riding jacket of her mother’s, since the thought of exposing her ridiculous body in one of her resised dresses was too much to bear. Surprisingly, she hadn’t hated the way she’d looked. Belle, of course, had been radiant as the sun in that golden dress. Ève’s tongue had been hopelessly tied throughout dinner and on the balcony. If she hadn’t learned that Belle was also like her, and Cogsworth, she would never have even begun to work up her courage.

  She skips over the evening and long night of despair, when she remembers it. If she could skip over the man in red, too, she would; but the man in red who tried to kill her is engraved on Ève’s mind forever, for better or worse. The moment of mercy she gave him, and the immediate betrayal when he saw that Belle had rejected him for something neither human nor male. To this day Ève is unsure which enraged him more – Belle could have told her, from a desperate plea in the village gone wrong, but she never had.

  Instead, Ève remembers the last moments as a Beast, in the dim light before the sunrise of her twenty-first birthday, that would seal her fate. Belle crying, holding her paw to her face. The whispered hint of her lips on Ève’s palm, before Ève …

  And then the transformation, and the look of disbelief on Belle’s face. The discovery that even as a woman, Ève was taller, broader, more muscular. The fear of a moment that had lasted for eternity; it was one thing to love a woman who looked nothing like one, but when presented with a girl the same age – but Ève’s thoughts had cut off there, when Belle had stepped into her space and ran a strand of her ash-blonde hair through her fingers. She had cupped Belle’s sweet, intelligent, funny – and yes, beautiful – face between her hands, and had leant down to kiss her.

  And, miracle above all else, Belle had kissed back.)

  “Maybe,” Belle said. She sat back on her heels, over Ève’s thighs, allowing Ève to push herself up slightly. “And I suppose you have a point about our occasional disagreements.” Ève slid a hand around the back of Belle’s neck, keeping the other planted behind her for balance.

  Belle suddenly gasped. “Ève, look! It’s snowing!”

  Ève twisted around to see out the one window where the curtains hadn’t been drawn – and sure enough, the snow was falling steadily outside. “First snowfall of the year,” she said, turning back to face Belle. “It’s awfully late for it. Let’s hope it sticks.”

  “I hope so,” Belle said with a wide smile. “I’m more than ready to beat you again at snowballing this year.”

  “Want to bet?” Ève asked, a familiar glint in her eye. “Now that I don’t have fur to stick to the snow, I’ll be faster.”

  “I still managed to cover you in it,” Belle pointed out, her eyes and nose crinkling as she laughed.

  Ève took the opportunity to slide her hand back down to Belle’s waist, flipping them so that Belle was lying on the couch now. Belle gasped at the sudden movement, still laughing, and Ève joined in helplessly a second later. “Careful now, Belle,” she smirked, leaning down to drop a series of short kisses to her neck. “We both remember how frozen we were last year after the battle; don’t you remember that revenge is best served cold?”

  Belle shivered below her. “Game on,” she said, claiming Ève’s lips again in a kiss. “But not until tomorrow.”

  “You have a point,” Ève said, pushing up off of Belle and sitting properly on the sofa again. “I suppose we should get back to Arthur’s exploits?”

  “Cheer up,” Belle said, joining her and picking the book up. “Guinevere shows up soon.”

  “I await her with bated breath,” Ève said. “Now, where were we?”

  “Uh … here,” Belle said. “And the people gave a great shout. ‘Arthur is King’.”

  Ève settled beside her, laying an arm casually over Belle’s shoulders and peering down at the book in an attempt to translate the English in her head before Belle read it aloud. Outside the window, the snow continued to fall.

    Two notes:

I am very unfamiliar with 18th century literature, so I just went ‘Eh’, and made it 19th century instead. See also why Belle is reading Wilkie Collins and not another French author, and why Ève is reading Alexandre Dumas in a pre-/no-Revolutionary universe.

I also shared this with a group of other writers, when I was unsure what the Beast’s name was going to be. I jokingly said ‘Well since everybody thinks the beast’s name is adam, fem!beast should be Eve since, yannow, Adam and Eve?? Kinda like how Beau is always male!Belle’s name??’ This was both the best and worst thing to happen, as now I can’t stop calling her Ève.

[sunsents]

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.”

[orenjineki]

Dabi the house-elf

Summary:When you don't get your Hogwarts letter at 11, you spam Hogwarts with letters until they get pissed of and send you a human Dabi who thinks he is a house-elf. And he's always naked and hung. Crap.

Warnings: Dub-Con, Dubious Consent, R18, Minors DNI

Notes: I am so sorry but I saw this tiktok by @savs_creates where Dabi is a house-elf and I just couldn't stop myself. https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMerqQ5Dc/

I thank @mangospams who is my greatest inspo when it comes to Yandere Dabi.

You had a house-elf. As a muggle. A house-elf. The size of a grown, human!, man with a sizeable…erm, well size. Not only his frame was decently sized but also his private parts, as you liked to call them in your mind when you happened to accidentally see them from the corner of your eyes when the brown bedsheets you had given the man? elf? once again did a terrible job at covering him.

Which you did not want to see since you were still unsure about his race. To be fair, you were unsure about a lot of things since you turned eleven. Up until your 11th birthday you were convinced that you would get a letter from Hogwarts, be declared a witch and go on a great many adventure with your new, magical friends in a school that was essentially a death trap for children. (They have a forbidden forest with giant spiders, that can and will eat you, unless you raised the og spider because you thought it was a cute pet!). The thought that Hogwarts was not real, merely a product of fiction, did not occur to you. And why would it, since quirks were real, why shouldn't magic be?

And so you waited for your letter, standing on the doormat of your home, looking for owls. But none came. But they had to! And so you waited. And waited. With the interruption of school, food and sleep. But not a single bird, not even a pigeon, dropped a letter with a red wax seal in front on your feet. But you never gave up hope, maybe they just got lost on their way?

You waited so long that you eventually turned twelve. Angry about this unreliability and with a feeling of betrayal, you decided to take matters into your own hands and write them a letter instead, ha! And so you did, every day, complaining about the fact that this magical institute had the audacity to not send you your magical letter! Heck, even an email would have been fine! Your parents tried to stop you at first but since you were somewhat decent at school, they let you keep your paper intense hobby. When you had sent your 6666thletter, way past your 18th birthday, you finally got an answer!

''Dear Ms. …,

We have received your thousands upon thousands of letters, demanding to be announced a witch and allowed into our school. However, we are glad to inform you that you are, through and through, a muggle. Usually we would ignore such profligate attempts at gaining something which you do not deserve but the amount of paper you have wasted for your letters poses a threat to the environment which muggle folk already treat with so much disrespect. Therefore, as a reimbursement, and a desperate attempt to get you to stop writing us, we will send you a human who thinks he is also a magical being without a trace of magic in his veins. In this case it is a human man who got hit with a confundus charm as a child and is convinced that he is a house-elf. When you finish reading this letter, you will find him standing in your kitchen, awaiting your orders.

Sincerely, the secretary of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.''

Wait, so Hogwarts is real? And you have a house-elf/human now? What? You drop the letter and rush into the kitchen to see a man, with white hair, piercing blue eyes and piercings on…anyway. You couldn't decide what was more confusing about the situation. The fact that he appeared out of nowhere, the fact that large parts of his body were burned or the fact that he was naked. You decided to accept this new version of reality by staring at him incredulously for a good five minutes, in which he did not blink once, staring back at you.

Since he didn't say anything and you started to feel a little drowsy from this… revelation, you decided to end the day early and go to sleep in your one-room apartment. Sadly, your apartment was too small to hide in another room, hoping that he would be gone, only a really weird dream, when you woke up and entered the living room the next morning. Sadly, your living room was also your bedroom and your kitchen and so you could only turn around and stare at the wall incredulously until you fell asleep. The next morning you woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed, since your apartment was always too cold to catch a good night's sleep. But somehow you felt really warm, as if you had shared the bed with another, very warm body.

…

Was that breathing you heard near your ear, right behind you? You turned around in a millisecond and went right back to incredulously staring at your house-elf-human. Holy shit, he was still there. And naked. And now he spoke, making it even harder to ignore his existence. ''Is master mad at Dabi? Should Dabi burn himself as punishment?'' He raised a hand and a very hot and very scary looking blue flame emerged from it. Great, so you had a crazy human who was convinced to be a house-elf with a fire quirk in your very small and very expensive apartment. Just great. You decided to pretend this was real. Maybe if you went along with it, he would be revealed to be a figment of your imagination and someone would send you to a mental hospital where live might be a bit more normal than this. ''N…n…no, please don't! I'm just confused, it's fine, you did nothing wrong.''

And so you had a human house-elf. You tried really hard to convince him that he wasn't an elf, but his believe in his magicalness was as unyielding as 11 year old you's. You decided to just treat him like a really confused roommate. Very, very confused. He kept standing or laying as close to you as possible, staring at you so hard you worried he would set you ablaze with his eyes. Those eyes…

They were always on you. If it wasn't such a weird situation, he might have been your type, though more ''normal'' in his speech patterns preferably. The scars didn't look ugly, just saddening when you wondered about the pain his quirk must have caught him. In order to give him and you more privacy, you gave him an old brown bedsheet as clothing since he refused anything that was new and without holes. He was actually quite helpful around the household, watching you doing daily chores and picking them up immediately the next day until all you had left to do yourself was work and grocery shopping.

He did however always manage to make you slightly uncomfortable with the way he would stare at you whenever he had nothing to do but you had to write a paper or watch a cat video. And he was absolutely horrible when he interacted with other people, other men to be exact. One time, when you forgot to tell him to hide under the blanket when the doorbell rang, the delivery man had been visible from the kitchen unit and he stared at him, an eerie smile on his face, and a blue flame in one hand. You decided to push the delivery man out of his view, grabbed the package and slammed the door shut. After that you had a serious discussion about ''politeness'' with Dabi and he just kept insisting that ''Master doesn't need anyone else, only Dabi''.

You tried to talk him out of this worldview, but every time you even remotely disagreed with him, the room suddenly got very hot and smoke poured out of his ears and you decided to drop it. Maybe you should get a post office box instead.

From that day on everything seemed mostly fine, until you came home from work, very exhausted, with a sore neck. You yawned a lot more than usual when you tapped away on your phone and stretched your arms and moved your head around in a desperate attempt to ease the pain. Suddenly, two very warm hands found their way on your shoulders and a very hard and apparently large cock pressed into you from behind.

You gasped in shock, your breath stopping. Soft, white hair tickled your neck when your ''house-elf'' whispered into your ear: ''Does master need help relaxing? Dabi saw some of those massage videos master always watches at night on her phone. The humans in the videos look very calm after the massage.''

Your eyes widened in realization and horror, your ''house-elf'' had found your browser history. Great…

You tried to wriggle free from his hold, but only managed to rub your ass into his hard, and pierced, member, making the ''house-elf'' groan softly. The deep noise made your legs quiver and pulled a pathetic whimper from your lips. To your own shame, the most recent ''massage video'' you saw came to your mind and you wondered if he would really go this far. Before you could form another coherent thought, he let go of you to grab a glass of coconut oil from the fridge, melting it's content in his hands.

Then, his oily hands wandered, one under your shirt to softly massage your left nipple and make you whimper, the other under your waistband, inside your panties, to softly rub at your clit. Apparently, he had seen one of the more ''romantic'' videos, because you also felt his lips press soft kisses all over your neck and collarbone. Maybe he was really a magical creature, since the way he played with your admittedly very single body wiped all coherent thought from your mind. He kept rubbing and rubbing your clit until you came with a very embarrassing, very high-pitched moan.

''Don't worry master, Dabi will make you feel even better''. Before you could really grasp what he meant, something warm, hard and big was slowly pressed into your now soaked pussy. An even bigger, even more pathetic whimper left your lips. At your very audible reaction to his actions your ''house-elf'' stilled inside you once he bottomed out and laid his chin on your shoulder, looking at you with the widest eyes you ever saw on him. ''Is Master in pain?''.

You shook your head, bit down on your lip, and realized that you desperately needed him to pound you against the kitchen counter. ''I'm…I'm fine, please just move''. The desperation was very audible in your voice and the look of concern disappeared from Dabi's face. Instead, he licked your ear and whispered:'' Only if you Master admits that master belongs to Dabi''.

''W…what?!''

''Say it or Dabi will burn the next man that tries to sneak into master's home with a package.''

''O..ok, whatever. Master belongs to Dabi''.

The reaction where a dark chuckle and a kiss to your ear before he pulled out of you completely to thrust back in. When you didn't protest and your moans only grew in volume, his hands wandered and he started to squeeze each breast with a very large and warm hand. For the second time that night you wondered whether he actually was magical, since this felt like a very ''magical'' experience. Definitely fantastic with the way the various piercings battered into your g-spot and your clit, making you moan and whine just as loud as the women in your ''massage videos''. When Dabi saw your head fall back on his shoulder and your tongue roll out, he decided to make sure that everyone could see you were his and bit down on your neck, hard. You yowled out in pain but he compensated for it by rubbing your clit and thrusting so hard that you came on his cock half a minute later. The sensation of your walls squeezing him tightly and your cute whines also pushed him over the edge and you could feel his warm seed trickle out of you once he slowly retreated.

The house-human picked you up and held you bridal style in his arms before you could collapse. You still groaned softly from the overstimulation and he carried you to your very small shared bed. After carefully tucking you into bed and pulling you into his naked chest, he softly pushed your hair out of your face and gave you a number of soft kisses all over you face, on your nose, cheeks and mouth.

Before you managed to fall asleep, completely exhausted, you could hear him whisper into your hair after kissing your head:

''Now Master is Dabi's mate. I love you master, but if I ever see another man at the door I will turn him into a pile of ash''.

[chaeiimimi]

06 𝓑𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓟𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓬!

Synopsis: Sakusa Kiyoomi, a young ravishing man, an athlete for the Japanese volleyball team and comes from a very prominent family around Japan. He was perfect, looks, wealth and fame. But you can’t have everything in life, can you? Sakusa, the germophobic athlete, suddenly wakes up one day and sees a baby boy in a basket in front of his door step, in the basket was a letter, a letter from his past lover, saying that the child was his. The panic look on the spiker’s face was almost comical, knowing that his life would turn into a complete 360, that day was his first time ever to miss a volleyball practice and to call Komori to ask for a babysitter. You.

Notice: the only thing I own is the plot, the art and the characters aren't mine and they all belong to their respective owners.

Safe to say you didn’t get as much sleep as you hoped that night

“eh?” you were shocked, you didn’t expect him to do it so soon

“yeah, they work from home tomorrow, we should pay them a visit”

“we?” you were flabbergasted, you? You’re meeting the elite and respected Sakusa Family?

“yeah, do you have any problems with that?” yes, a lot

“n-no sir”

So now you left a note on the kitchen counter saying you are going to the market to get some ingredients for the dish you were going to cook for Sakusa’s parents

Since you were young, your parents always taught you that you cannot visit a home empty handed, it was proper courtesy and showed respect and appreciation for having you in their home.

You strolled along the market looking at fresh produce, you opted for seafood, since it’s healthier for older people

A huge salmon caught your eyes and miso-zuke salmon immediately popped in your head, you looked at your watch, it was only five in the morning, you can let it marinate for how many hours and grill it for 30 minutes, which will be enough time to bring it for lunch

You bought it from the vendor who was very kind and even gave you a discount, after that you went to a bakery supplies to get some carrot décor and some ingredients to make icing, you were planning to make a cake less sweet so Sakusa’s parents can eat as well

With that, you head home

You saw Sakusa seating by the coffee table, sipping coffee and reviewing the forms you filled out

“good morning sir” you say as you take the things you bought to the kitchen

“we really don’t need to bring them anything you know” he says as, eyes still not leaving the papers

“I know, but my parents always tell me to not visit anyone’s house empty-handed, it’s a sign of courtesy”

He just nodded and said “suit yourself”

You begin making the marinade, thankfully the fish vendor was kind enough to slice the salmon up for you

About half way through you heard Kaito’s cry and you were about to wipe your hands to get to him when Sakusa stood up

“I got him, continue your work”

You nodded and did exactly that, it took fifteen minutes to make the marinade, you soaked the salmon in it , coverd it, and put in inside the freezer

Sakusa went out with a calm Kaito, he sat in the coffee table , his son carefully cradled in his one arm as his other hand held the forms he hasn’t reviewed yet

Looks like he got the hang of carrying Kaito you said inside your head as you smiled to yourself

You slowly mixed the ingredients together not noticing that Sakusa was now behind you

“what are you doing?” you flinched , surprised by your boss sudden speaking

“I’m making a cake sir” you said holding your chest

It wasn’t clear, heck if you didn’t spend your three months with him you wouldn’t have noticed the small smile grazing his lips

And you regret noticing because you were now flustered

You cleared your throat

“where’s Kaito?” you asked, focusing your attention back to your task

“he’s sleeping” he answered

Your mouth formed into an ‘o’

“is it normal for babies to sleep so much” he asked, his voice genuinely concern

You chuckled  “apparently, it is sir, sleep is actually healthy for baby, aside from them having small stomach and get full easily, their tiredness can also be the cause of a growth spurt or developmental leap” you say in as-a-matter-of-fact tone

He nods as he watches you pour the mixture to a cake mold, which he didn’t even know he had

“does your parents like cake sir?” you asked as you put the dough into the oven

“my mom eats it occasionally, my dad is a sucker for it, we try to make him cut it out for a bit, it’s bad for his health”

You nod, Sakusa has been a bit talkative since your talk last night

“in that case, I’ll make the buttercream frosting less sweet” you say as you washed your hands to prepare to make the frosting

Sakusa watched you as you make the frosting, a lot of thoughts inside his head

“is she doing this to impress my parents?”

“why would she want to impress my parents?”

“does she likes-“

Sakusa shook his head profusely muttering small no’s you were just nice and polite, yea, that’s it

He cleared his throat and went to the coffee table, he finished reviewing the forms you filled out and all of them were perfect, he opened his desktop and began with his work at the company again

The timer went off and it was time to take the cake out of the oven

Kaito was awake and mindlessly babbling in his crib while Sakusa watched replays of some volleyball games

You set the cake on a cooling rack to let it cool down for a while

You decided to clean the house while waiting for the cake to cool down

you wiped some shelves, throw out the trash and vacuumed, by the time you were finished cleaning , the cake was already cool, you begin frosting it, putting crushed nuts at the side of the cake and decorating the top of the cake with candy carrots and some edible decorative leaves, you slowly put it in the fridge

you sighed

“you need to rest” Sakusa says as he gets himself some water

You looked at the time and it was already 10

You shook your head “I just need to grill the salmon sir” and so you did grill the tuna for thirty minutes, gave Kaito a bath for twenty minutes, showered and changed yourself into a simple sundress

By the time you were done packing everything it was already 11:30

You and Sakusa made your way to his car, Kaito was in his baby seat and his father placed him on the back seat, you were about to seat beside Kaito when he cleared his throat

“won’t I look like a personal driver if the both of you sat there?”

You immediately got up and sat at the shotgun seat

The ride was quiet, it was a comfortable silence though, Kaito’s occasional babbles while you were still amazed by the rich neighborhood and Sakusa’s eyes are focused on the road

You arrived at his paren’ts place in fifteen minutes and you could hear the voices of people from afar

You entered the house-no, this was a freaking castle, it was huge, there was a guard, some gardeners and maids

Sakusa parked his car, you got out, he carried Kaito’s baby seat which had a handle while you carried the cake and the salmon-sizu

You walked to the backyard where you saw some children, you recognize some of them as Sakusa’s older siblings’ children, they looked like they were having an outdoor barbecue by their pool-side

Sakusa cleared his throat

They all stopped dead in their tracks eyes wide open

Sakusa glared at them “geez you guys don’t need to act like you saw a ghost”

“well what do you expect you barely visit us here?!” you assumed that it was his brother you spoke

His mother and father looked at you, and you felt very small

“woah and you- you- holy crap your married?!”

And with just one sentence there was a fiasco

“Uncle Kiyoomi is married? We have a new aunt?” a kid who was about nine said and rushed towards new but his sisters were already all up on you

“woah when did you guys get married?”

“when did you meet?”

“what company does your family own?”

“your dress looks so good?”

“do you like chanel?”

You were overwhelmed and couldn’t talk

Your boss sighed “she’s not my wife, she’s my son’s nanny and househelper”

They stopped on their tracks, as you stood there and smiled awkwardly

“but you’re too pretty to be a nanny!”

One of his nieces explained

“you have a son?!” Sakusa’s brother exclaimed

“I know right” Sakusa says nonchalantly

Sakusa was a calm compared to his very lively family

“you impregnated your househelper?” Sakusa’s father asked confused

Your eyes widened and you shook your head profusely

“it’s Nami’s” Sakusa sighed and handed his parents a letter, his brother and two sisters stood beside their parents to read the letter as well

They were dumbfounded when they finished reading, you can’t blame them, you had the same reaction when you first read that letter as well

“what a cruel woman…” Sakusa’s mother says, it seems like she was the first one to recover

Sakusa looked at his son who was looking up at him while sucking on his pacifier

“I don’t need her to raise my son” Sakusa says sternly, his family members looked at him

Sakusa took Kaito in his arms “everyone, this is Sakusa Kaito, my son” he says while Kaito babbles and cracked a toothless smile

There was a moment of silence

When...

 “Oh my lord! what a handsome baby!” Sakusa’s mother gushed and approached Sakusa and took Kaito from him

“holy hell bro he looks just like you!” his brother also says, as he pinch Kaito’s cheeks

“I want him to model for my baby line AAAHHHHH” his sister, which you assumed to be Aiko Sakusa a famous fashion designer

Sakusa Kairo the eldest among the siblings, a pilot and owns an airlines company

Akemi, the third child, a famous architect, she owns an architectural firm

And Sakusa Kiyoomi the youngest, Athlete-Entrepreneur manages a chain of hotels and restaurants

And of course Sakusa Arisa and Sakusa Katashi, the founder of Sakusa Empire

These people are one of the most influential family in japan, yet when you looked at them they look quite normal

Sakusa looked kind of distant, but you could see the softness in his features as he stares at his son being cradled and passed around by his family members

You did notice that his father was emotionlessly staring at the scene

“Kiyoomi you haven’t introduce your “helper” to us yet” Akemi says teasingly

Sakusa shook his head

“this is Y/N she’s Komori’s friend , she helps around my house and takes care of Kaito” he says as stood beside you

The whole family except for Komori’s dad looked at you with almost teary eyes

“thank you for dealing with our ill-mannered kiyoomi” his mother says

“You’re too pretty to be a nanny though, if you ever consider modeling come to me” Aiko says as she held both of your hands

You bowed to them politely “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Kiyoomi is a good boss to me” you said, feeling all stiff and awkward

“chill out Y/N-san we don’t bite” Kairo chuckled

You nodded awkwardly, Sakusa nudged you and pointed at the items you were holding

“oh, we bought you some salmon-sizu and carrot cake, I hope you like it” you said as you showed them the things you bought

“Y/N-chan I love you already” Akemi says as she took the carrot cake from you and led you to the table

 In no time the family were all eating and having fun, you had Kaito in your arms and was feeding him

“Y/n dear, this salmon and cake are so delicious, where did you buy them?”

You quickly realized that your boss’ mother was a sweet lady

“oh, I made them ma’am, my mother is a baker, it’s her recipe, I tweaked it a bit for it to make it less quick, my father is a fish broker, he told me that salmon is a healthy fish to serve” you smiled at her

“Y/N-chan you’re too kind, I hope my brother isn’t being a jerk to you” Aiko says as she eats cake

You chuckled at them

“Y/N-chan, how is our Kiyoomi?” Akemi asked

“Sir Sakusa is doing fine I think, he’s just a bit tired from volleyball and the company, he also makes time for Kaito whenever he can, he’s still a little bit confuse and clumsy”

Kairo, Akemi, Aiko and Mrs. Sakusa nodded together

“Y/N-chan do you like Kiyoomi?” Aiko asked which made you flustered

“I-I- yes-yes b-but- as a boss- I like him as a person-like a boss-“

“geez no need to get flustered now, we were only asking” Kairo said as he chuckled

“we don’t mind if you like him though, we’ll be delighted to have you here” Akemi says and smiled at you

You were now as red as a tomato

After the conversation, you were left with Kaito, he was now wide awake and you were playing with him

Only then did you noticed Sakusa’s father staring at you two

You cleared your throat, you got up, carrying Kaito, you cleaned up the plates near Sakusa’s father

Kaito pointed at his grandfather

You quietly approached the man

“sir, do you want to hold him?”  you asked

He looks up at you, you smiled at him and slowly sat Kaito on his lap

He looks at Kaito emotionlessly, when Kaito smiled at him and babbles “babababa!”

For the first time today, you saw a soft smile made its way to Sakusa’s father’s face

“he looks just like him” the elderly man mumbles

“I can see that sir” you smiled softly at them, slowly taking out your phone and quietly took a picture of the scene, not knowing that some of the eyes of the family were on you

 “she’s a good woman” Sakusa’s mother says to his son

“she is” Kiyoomi says as he stares at you, having a small conversation with his father, it’s very rare for him to communicate or interact with people other than business matters, but he doesn’t seem to have any trouble conversing with you

“do you like her Kiyo?” his mother asks teasingly

“mom, no” Kiyoomi sighs and takes a sip of his lemonade

Although his parents were mostly absent during his childhood, him and his siblings maintained a close relationship with them, and both his mother and father always made time for them on the weekends

A lot of people assumed that they were like the rich family from dramas, the tension and stuff but it was far from that, they were pretty normal, and chaotic at times

 “Your salmon-sizu was very good” your boss’ dad says as you took Kaito from him, the baby has already fallen asleep

“thank you sir, it was my dad’s recipe, he says it’s good for your health” you smiled as you cradled Kaito

He smiled and got up from his seat to join the rest of his family, you laid Kaito on his baby seat and wiped the sweat off his forehead

 The rest of the day were spent with you helping the maids with grilling, but Aiko quickly swooped in and wanted you to join the party, so there you were surrounded by your boss’ nieces and nephews

“you’re not uncle Kiyo’s girlfriend?” Arata, who was around seven years old asked you, he was Kairo’s son

You chuckled and shook your head

“but I want you to be my aunt, aunt y/n” Chizu who was Aiko’s daughter, said with pleading eyes

You just chuckled at them and diverted their attention to something else, you told them stories your parents and sister used to tell you when you were young, their eyes sparkled with fascination, even Mika and Eichi who were both teenagers were interested in your stories as well that they tore their eyes off of their phone screens

Later in the night you guys played uno, you taught them the basics, these kids didn’t know anything about games outside their phones

You couldn’t really relate to the adult’s conversation since they were talking about businesses so you hang out with the kids, and you were loving every moment of it, despite being born from rich families, they were really nice and humble, Eichi was very similar to his grandfather and his Uncle KIyoomi but he was polite nonetheless

It was finally time to leave, the kids were tired and the same to the adults

“come visit us soon aunt y/n” Mira says sleepily she was Akemi’s only child

You smiled at them and waved

“you better come back Y/N-chan we want another one of your carrot cake” Aiko says as you bowed to them

“dear, if ever Kiyo fires you, you are free to apply at our house” says Kiyoomi’s mother says as you leave

Your boss sighs as you finally entered his car

“they really like you” he mumbles

“I guess they do?” you chuckled

“hey y/n, thank you”

You tilt your head in confusion “for what sir?”

“just, thank you”

Taglist: @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @seashellmichellee @tetsuhoes @akaashislovelywife  @strawberryzos  @kuroohoeee @underratedmage @popping-cherries @uwu-iwanttodie @wonhyuksstuff @  @knmsapplepi    @stormcastello @si-m-p

[gallivantingheart]

sepia bubbles

who?: joshua x (f)reader

word count: 918

genre/s: tired fluff

warnings: none! ...maybe nudity? implied not explicit? (how else are your supposed to have a bath???)

synopsis: yeah, it’s been a heck of a day - that goodness for boyfriends and bubble baths.

a/n: for cwc valentines event!! this is for choco @chocosvt​ + her prompt “i’ll still be here when you’re ready”

I’m so sorry i’ve been super (read: absolutely) silent, but fingers crossed this is a little to your liking! I hope your valentines day was as lovely as you xx

You get in, dumping your handbag unceremoniously to the floor and kicking off your shoes in the general direction of the shoe rack. You no longer flinch at the bang they make against the wall. There’s a frown though that’s been stuck with you all day, only deepening at the sight of your hallway light. Your hand quietly fumbles for the lucky wooden turtle perched on your hall table. Creeping up the hall, you bypass putting on house slippers - who is in your house?

Tv on quietly for the news...you squeal, tossing your makeshift weapon between your hands as warm hands fall over your waist.

“Holy cra- ‘Shua?” You wither and slump against him.

He nuzzles a kind kiss to your cheek. “Hi, baby. You okay?” His eyes scan you over and frown. “Did you think I was a thief or something?”

He starts to laugh, turning away politely so you can’t see. You sigh and roll your eyes, placing the turtle on the bench. You forgot he was coming over for the weekend - Valentine’s weekend, you were quite impressed when he told you. Of course, he would be dipping out Sunday afternoon for a Vlive with Carats, but the time you had now was more than enough.

“I - maybe. I forgot you were coming over actually. It’s...it’s been a really long day.” You grumble, returning his polite kiss to press a slow one to his lips, cradling his jaw.

He can see it from the hunch to your shoulders and the fraying disarray of your hair. You seem a little dull compared to your usual open self.

“Ah. I see. I’m halfway through dinner - just pasta, nothing too amazing.” He says, guiding you against his side and into the kitchen, back to the stovetop.

You smile, your heart a puddle in your chest. “Just pasta? You know I’m a sucker for anything you make. Thanks. You want help?”

You adore when he makes dinner over at yours. It’s a delight watching him make his way through your kitchen - complaining every time he has to stoop down to pull out glasses from the very bottom shelves. That and he always wears your silly fruit patterned apron that hangs on your fridge - you never wear it yourself, so now it’s really just Joshua’s apron.

He shakes his head, gesturing to the multitude of pots and pans cooking. He was absolutely staining your wooden spoon with pasta sauce but you loved the sight of it all too much to crack off about it.

“No, I’m good. Go get changed.” More kisses - it’s like he knows they’re the perfect little patch-ups for today’s shemozzle.

“I actually might hit the showers - I smell like onions and bus.”

But as you strip down in the bathroom, you eye under the sink, knowing you still had a few bubble bombs left. It only feels like a few moments later when Joshua is tapping lightly on the door and you’re sunk chin deep in bubbles that smell like blackberries and spice.

“Yeah?”

He pokes his head in, pretty brown eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Oooh, a bath? Fancy.”

“Sorry. It kind of called to me.” You make a weak cringe.

He leaves the door ajar as he grabs your towel, folding it up to sit next to you. His face is still a touch shiny from his jelly moisturiser.

Shua chuckles, shrugging. “That’s okay. You didn’t look all that good. Do you want to talk about it?”

His feline sight is warm and patient from his place on the tiles. You screw your face up even more, playing with the bubbles.

“Mmm, not really. Sucked too much.”

Sucked felt like an understatement. You’d taken a few minutes at lunch today to cry in the bathroom and didn’t really feel like a round two of the waterworks. And knowing how empathetic and gentle Jisoo was would make it ten times worse. You shake your head firmly, the hair piled up off your neck wibbling with the movement. He nodded and smiled soft as a feather, catching a stray wisp and tucking it amongst your hair.

“Okay then. But I’ll always be here when you’re ready.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry - “Thanks, Shua. What about your day? How are the guys?”

He hums again and strokes through your hair, absent and kind. Your eyes flutter shut in the quiet, letting your head rest in Joshua’s hand. He talks some about his day - they’re in talks for a Japanese comeback, so it’s language lessons and a lot of translating. And far too much caffeine, which you laugh at so hard that you splash bubbles onto this shirt. His voice drifts in and out for you as you get colder.

"Hey now, no sleeping. Come on, we’ve still got dinner and the rest of this weekend." He murmurs, arms slipping to hoist you up a bit.

You open your eyes with a whine, arching your back to crack out the discomfort. You shiver for but a moment before he holds out your towel. You continue to grumble and whine, wrapping it tightly around yourself.

"Go get changed. I'll meet you out there."

You're about to protest, but now that the day’s stress has been washed away with the glitter, all you’re really thinking about is sweatpants and a bowl of pasta in front of some kind of tv show - maybe re-watch a drama?

And of course, Joshua, calling you from the kitchen again.

[bnha-dumpster]

Holy SHIT dude. I just look at the page the anon just mentioned and I am nothing short of traumatized. A minor should not be thinking that stuff and posting such personal information on the internet, they are willing to get themselves seriously hurt and in trouble just to fill their "fetish" which I bet they haven't even actually indulged in! Heck this isn't a fetish, this TEENAGER is just straight up encouraging pedos to interact with minors! What in the actual hell—

putting this under a read more simply because it's a sensitive subject

i'm 20, i grew up playing on the webkinz site and making silly spin art on the nickelodeon site that my family would stick on the fridge. basically, i'm part of a generation where the internet and digital media is an extremely large influence when growing up and finding yourself. and honestly this blog is just an example of what happens when that influence goes horribly wrong.

as uncomfortable it is to talk about, i am willing to say that i almost went down a very similar road. high school was rough and i ended up in a space that was not meant for me thinking i could trust the people there. i was wrong, i was a naïve teen. i got in trouble, i got hurt and that's one of the possible consequences of being a teen on the internet unfortunately.

and i hate to assume things about people. but that? that's the confused attempt of coping with trauma or the aftermath of being groomed by someone. i speak from experience and when i saw the blog, that's almost exactly how i was. confused, trying to grasp what was going on with me and ending up dealing with it in the worst way.

this teen... what they're doing is dangerous to themselves and others, clearly. but they also don't understand that what they're doing is dangerous. they haven't realized any of it. they're influenced by emotions and not the common sense that hopefully develop when you're older.

look. you can be mad, but don't be mad at them. be concerned for them, be worried for them. that's all any of us can do.

i hope that they can find a healthy outlet for the feelings they have. that's why i have this blog and why i write the sort of things you see here. it's a way to cope and keep myself from doing the sort of reckless shit i did in high school.

god this just. it's so painful and scary to see.

[janeykath318]

The Beard Effect (Shieldshock)

Getting invited to the super secret Avengers lair was a pretty big deal to a former “science minion.” The Accords had split the Avengers in half and those who had joined Steve Rogers in refusing to sign it were basically fugitives. It angered Darcy that the people who’d saved earth multiple times were being treated like criminals, just so the government had convenient scapegoats. 

Jane and Darcy were both vocal opponents of the Accords because of the gross human rights violations and as a result, a lot of opportunities suddenly disappeared. 

Jane went about muttering how she planned to portal Ross’s ass into outer space and Darcy was fully on board with that plan. 

Unfortunately, before any portalling could happen, they ended up getting kidnapped again. This wasn’t their first rodeo and they managed to overcome the thugs and hijack their van, but it broke down in the middle of nowhere and the two of them were left stranded, with no way to call for help. 

“What’ll we do now?” Jane asked

“Start walking,” Darcy suggested. “There’s bound to be some kind of civilization around here.”

Jane looked skeptical, but she shrugged and started walking. After an hour or so, they found a small lane that wound up and disappeared into the forest.

“That looks promising,” Jane said hopefully. “A Driveway!”

“Or the lane to a lair of villains or serial killers,” Darcy said, earning herself a glare. 

“It’s starting to get dark, Darce. I think we have to take our chances. I don’t see any other signs of habitation.” 

“True, but don’t come crying to me when an axe murderer is chasing you.” Darcy griped, but she started following the path, which turned out to be much longer than it looked.

“Don’t move!” A voice suddenly hissed from the shadows, stopping both women in their tracks.

“See? I told you!” Darcy crowed triumphantly. 

A figure emerged from the shadows, brandishing a gun, which he quickly holstered after he saw who they were.

“Darcy?”

“Clint?” Darcy exclaimed, recognizing her favorite archer and partner in crime. 

“How in the world did you get here?” Clint asked warily. “No one knows about this place.”

“Honestly, it was a complete accident,” Darcy told him. “We got kidnapped and escaped, but got stranded in the middle of nowhere and started walking, hoping to find other non-shady humans. This driveway looked promising, so here we are.” 

Clint looked very concerned and quizzed them on their captors and where they’d left the van before speaking into his comm. 

“I’ve explained the situation to Cap. He says to bring you up.”

“Steve’s here?” Darcy asked, heart doing a flutter of anticipation.

“Yep,” Clint grinned knowingly. He was well aware of the crush Darcy had on said Captain and used to tease her about it frequently. 

“Shall I tell him you send your love?”

“No!” Darcy nearly shouted, face turning pink. “Just get us safely inside.”

“Whatever you say,” Clint said with a smirk, chuckling to himself as he led them to the plain looking ranch house at the end of the lane. There was another brief discussion over the comms and then they were being ushered inside.

It was the typical plainly furnished basic safe house, but it was cluttered in a well-lived in way. Darcy recognized Wanda, Scott and Sam right away and greeted them all enthusiastically. Then Steve Rogers walked in and put a halt to all coherent thoughts. 

The man was gorgeous to begin with, but he’d let his hair get rather shaggy and—glory of glories—he’d grown a beard. He looked a bit world weary and tired, but he smiled right at her.

“Hi, Darcy, Jane.”

“Hi.” Darcy squeaked out, now doubly overcome from the smile AND the beard. She’d always had a weakness for bearded men, but Steve’s glorious specimen took that to a whole new level.

Jane took pity on her and took charge of the conversation, explaining what had happened to them and asking if they could be so kind as to tell them where they were and provide them a lift back to civilization.

“Sure we can,” Steve agreed, “but we should probably wait until morning. Natasha and Sharon are out scoping things out and we’ll soon find out more about your kidnappers. Were either of you hurt at all?”

“Only a few bruises and rope marks. Darcy and I kicked ass. They won’t mistake us for helpless scientists ever again.”

Jane spoke proudly and Darcy nodded enthusiastically. She’d wished Natasha could have seen it. 

Steve outright beamed at this, which caused Darcy to trip and go down in an embarrassed heap. She stayed on the floor, wishing a portal would appear and whisk her away. 

“Why are you like this?” Jane sighed in exasperation as she and Steve helped Darcy up.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, concern in his voice.

Mortified, Darcy couldn’t look at him and mumbled “Yeah. Just tired. Being kidnapped wears one out.”

She wanted to die. Why did she always have to make herself look like an idiot in front of him? 

Steve, being the gentleman he was, volunteered to sleep in the living room so Jane and Darcy could have a bed. Darcy tried not to think about what sleepy Steve would look like as she counted sheep that night. 

She awoke the next morning and wandered out to the kitchen to find Natasha making coffee.

“Sleep well?” The spy greeted her, green eyes appraising her.

“Yes,” Darcy managed. “Though if you have extra coffee, I could definitely use some.” 

They caught up over their caffeinated beverages and Darcy heard more of the story of how Natasha had ended up changing her mind about the Accords and joining Team Cap. 

Right in the middle of a very funny anecdote involving Clint, Sam, and Scott, the door opened and Steve entered the house, sweaty and disheveled after a morning run.

Darcy’s laughter died in her throat as she observed Steve’s damp white shirt and glistening skin, muscles very much on display. 

“Morning, Nat. Darcy,” he acknowledged, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and gulping it down.

Darcy let out a “morning!” and got the heck out of there, face burning again. She needed a cold shower and fast. She heard Natasha laughing at her, but decided she’d deal with that later. Steve was going to be the death of her. 

“Nat, do you know why Darcy hates me? She practically runs away whenever I enter a room and I don’t know what I did.”

A bewildered Steve was asking his friend this question two months later when they were settled in a new, larger, secret compound, joined by Darcy and Jane. He’d liked Darcy a lot and used to enjoy her company, but now, she could barely stand to look at him and he was rather confused and a little hurt. 

“I can’t speak for Darcy, but I don’t think it’s anything you did,” Nat assured him. “Have you tried talking to her?”

“Yes, but she always is too busy or finds a reason to escape before I can get more than one sentence out. I figured she really doesn’t want to be around me, so I let it go.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair in frustration, wondering how in the world he was going to fix this. He missed Darcy and this situation was  becoming very upsetting to him. 

“I’ll see if I can find out what’s what,” Natasha promised. “It is very unlike Darcy to leave someone in the dark if they’ve offended her.”

That very afternoon, Darcy found herself locked in a closet with none other than Steve. All the banging and yelling and swearing and angry texting at Jane and Natasha availed nothing. 

Natasha’s blunt text took the wind out of Darcy’s sails and she looked over at Steve remorsefully. They were right. She’d let her stupid crush get in the way of her friendship. 

“I could break this door down, you know,” Steve offered. 

“No need,” Darcy sighed, smiling weakly. “It’s about time I put my big girl pants on and told you what’s going on. It’s not your fault. I just am a complete disaster around guys I have a crush on and I may have a thing for the beard,” she finished, blushing like a tomato. “Which is why I could hardly say a word to you without squeaking.”

“So I didn’t hurt you?” Steve asked cautiously. 

“No. It was mostly me trying to control my wild urges to say or do totally inappropriate things to you. Face it, Steve. You’re irresistible.”

Steve gave a bashful grin. 

“I don’t know about that. But what if I told you I would be totally okay with you being “inappropriate?” Because I too must confess to having had some inappropriate thoughts.” 

“Really? About me?” Darcy asked, starting to feel very smug. 

“Definitely you,” Steve said, looking at her very intently. She blushed again and moved over close to him so she was right up in his space. 

“So Watcha gonna do about it, soldier?” She asked flirtatiously.

Steve grinned.

“Let’s start here,” he murmured right before he kissed her. 

It was better than her wildest dreams. Holy crap, the man could kiss! Knees already weak, she clutched him for dear life as the kiss deepened. 

“If I’d have known this would be the result, I’d have grown a beard a long time ago,” Steve admitted when they came up for air. “I’m crazy about you, Darcy. Have been for awhile.”

Darcy giggled against his chest. 

“You’re still plenty hot without it, but it kinda was the icing on the cake,” she told him.

Neither of them noticed when Natasha unlocked the doors. She listened for a moment, then smiled triumphantly and texted Jane that the mission was a success. Nothing was seen of either Steve or Darcy for the rest of that day. 

[little-kat07]

The Perfect Cake

[OH MY GOD GUYS LOOK WHAT I FOUND!!! 

A couple days ago, i suddenly remembered that I HAVE AN AO3 ACCOUNT. I completely forgot I had one. So I went back and looked at my works and holy hell guys, I had a ONESHOT BOOK! BUT I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT ONESHOTS WERE SO I CALLED THEM ‘Sanders Stories’, BECAUSE THEY WERE SANDERS SIDES. THEY’RE KIND OF CRAPPY BUT ALSO REALLY NOSTALGIC AND I’M SO HAPPY I FOUND THEM!!!!

This one particular one is called “The Perfect Cake,” and i’m actually kind of proud of past me for it, even though it’s not that good. It’s fluffy Logicality with a gallon of Patton angst because that is literally all I’m good at writing.

So I’m going to leave this here, as well as a link to the book! GUYS I’M JUST SO HAPPY!]

[In case you’re confused, the link I send will be to the whole book so the first chapter isn’t the one that I’m pasting here. This chapter, The Perfect Cake, is the second oneshot and the first one is prinxiety]

Link to book

---

Pairings: Logicality

TW: Baking, feelings of worthlessness, crying, birthday, breakdown

Summary: It’s Logan’s birthday tomorrow, and Patton is determined to bake the PERFECT cake for it (Even if he hasn’t baked that much before.) He’s trying his best, but he can’t do it alone.

---

Patton stood in the center of the kitchen.

He often had the same feeling in his stomach before he cooked something big; He had to mentally prepare himself for hours of work.

Logan's Birthday was tomorrow, and Patton had to make it the best possible birthday! This was the anniversary of the first day Thomas went to preschool- the day Logan was formed.

Patton remembered that day like it was yesterday. He remembered a small toddler with an intelligent sparkle in his eye knocking on the door of the commons, he remembered how he swore Patton's hugs might suffocate someone. He remembered growing up with him, and slowly falling in love, and-

Shoot. No. These emotions weren't logical, it was impossible for Logan to like Patton back. He had to stop thinking like that.

Illogical feelings or not, tomorrow was Logan's day to shine, and it had to be perfect. Patton had to bake the most amazing, most beautiful, most delicious cake ever to grace the Mind-scape.

Patton took a deep breath and got to work.

After a few hours, Patton had been worked to death. He had been trying and trying to make the perfect cake, but it was always just wrong, or the product of a mistake. His pink apron was wrinkled and dirty, and he had streaks of batter all over his face. He had started at 6 am, and it was now 8. He sighed and rubbed his face, grateful that he still had his optimism.

"Patton? You ok, Padre?"

Patton turned to find Roman standing in the kitchen doorway, eyes sparking with worry.

Patton smiled. "Oh, I'm alright, kiddo. Just trying to bake a cake for Logan. I can't seem to get it right."

Roman smirked and came in. "Want some help? I've never baked before, but I'll help if it's bothering you."

Patton grinned and gave the Prince a huge hug. "Thank you so much, kiddo! I'm sure you will be a great help!"

Oh, how wrong Patton had been.

Virgil had often joked about how Roman wouldn't stop singing to save his life, and Patton was pretty sure that was true. Every 5 minutes, just as they started to get some work done, the prince would start belting out lyrics to disney songs or dancing around the kitchen. They got as far as perfectly mixing the batter before Patton had to stop him.

"Look, kiddo..." Patton started, rubbing his hands together and trying to find a way to put this nicely. "You helped me make the perfect batter, and I am so proud of you for that, but I think maybe you should clock out? You have been a great help, but you... Um... Sing a lot." Patton winced, afraid Roman was going to be offended.

Roman nodded in understanding and put a hand on patton's shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. I know I can be distracting. Do you want me to go see if Virgil will help you?"

Patton nodded, thankful. "That would be great!"

Roman left the kitchen yelling "HOT TOPIC! PAT WANTS YOU!"

Patton watched him go with a proud smile, and then turned to clean up the kitchen.

Just as he was halfway through cleaning, Virgil came into the kitchen with his hood up. "Sup', Pop star?"

Patton grinned and gave Virgil a big hug, which the emo reluctantly returned. "My dark, strange son! I am baking a cake for Logan’s birthday, and I need your help!" Patton pulled away from Virgil, smiling. "Roman already helped me make the batter, but he can be a bit much in the kitchen. Would you mind helping out for the rest of the process?"

Virgil shrugged. "I have nothing better to do."

Patton knew that that was Virgil's way of saying "I would love to."

Virgil was very helpful cleaning up the kitchen. He had a sort of efficient way of doing things, just one after the other, not saying a word. It was kind of satisfying to watch.

It got a bit hectic after that, though. Once they were done cleaning, they had to pour the batter into the pans. It was going to be a big cake, like, "Corpse Bride" big. So they had to use multiple pans and lots of batter. Virgil had violently shaky hands, and had lots of trouble pouring the batter in. In the end, Patton had to pour all the batter himself, and the kitchen ended up very messy.

Virgil's eyeshadow was darker than when he had initially come in. "I-im sorry... I didn't mean to mess up, I just-"

Patton smiled at him and pulled him into a hug. "No no, you didn't do anything wrong, kiddo! You just had a little trouble with steadying your hands. I'm very proud of you for helping me clean up, but maybe we should get someone else to help us here? Maybe Jan?"

Virgil smirked sadly. "I think maybe i'll duck out for now, but I'll tell Janus you want his help."

"Thanks, son!"

Virgil stepped out of the kitchen yelling "HEY SNAKE BOY!"

Patton sighed. This was not going the way he had wanted it to. He did realize that if Janus ended up being bad at this, his last choice was Remus, and he was terrified of going down that road.

He had just cleaned the batter from the stovetop when Janus walked into the kitchen. "Hey Pat, did you need something?"

Pat smiled tiredly. "Hey, Janjan. I was going to bake a cake for Logan, but i'm having some trouble. Roman and Virge weren't so good at it, so I wanted to see if you would help?"

Jan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm tooooootally not disappointed that you worked with Emo and Sir Singalot before you thought about the second smartest person here," He said sarcastically.

"Mm-hm!" Patton managed to say before taking a deep breath to control himself.

Janus helped Patton bake the cake and even out the tops with a bread knife. The next thing they had to do was spread the buttercream filling on the layers so they could be stacked.

Jan looked in the fridge like Patton told him to. "I don't see the buttercream."

Patton walked over and scanned the fridge. It was gone.

He took a few deep breaths and ran a hand through his hair. "Where the heck is it? If I have to make more, I swear I will-"

"Make more of what?" Remus poked his head into the kitchen curiously.

"The buttercream filling for Logan's cake is gone."

Remus cocked his head. "Buttercream? Hmmm... OH! Yeah, I ate that."

Patton's eyes widened. "You did WHAT?" Remus smiled fearfully while Patton yelled. "THE ONE THING YOU EAT THAT IS ACTUAL FOOD, AND IT HAS TO BE THE BUTTERCREAM?"

For once, Janus looked worried. "Patton, are you ok? You aren't acting like yourself..."

The dad side breathed in and out rapidly, his hands running through his hair. He tried to calm himself down- He was the happy side, not the angry side. He could get through this. "I'm fine. I'm calm. I can do this."

"Gee, I'm sorry, Pat," Said Remus. He suddenly grinned. "I can throw it up for you, if you want!"

"NO! No, no. I think we will be ok," Janus said, pushing Remus out of the room. He turned to face Pat. "Patpat, are you ok?"

Janus sometimes called Patton Patpat, mostly as payback for Patton calling him Janjan. But when the two became good friends, they used them as nicknames instead.

"I'm fine, Janjan. I'm just having some feelings. Feelings are okay though! I'm ok."

Janus sighed. "If you say so."

They worked together to make a new batch of buttercream, allowing the cake to cool. The original buttercream had been baby blue, but Patton had no more baby blue dye, so they used indigo instead. They layered and stacked the cake with the buttercream, used support sticks to keep the cake from falling over, and then started to layer it with dark blue fondant.

Patton looked over at Janus. "Would you mind taking off the gloves? Sorry, but this is very delicate and I think you should use your bare hands."

Janus frowned. "I shouldn't. I have scales on my left hand, if I use it, it will leave a scale imprint on the fondant."

Patton blinked sadly at him. "Oh, ok."

Patton handled the fondant, and as he fit it into place, he thought the cake looked beautiful. "Only one thing left to do: DECORATE!!!"

Patton was an amazing decorator.

After years of theming cookies and cupcakes to each side, baking birthday cakes, and writing messages in crofters jelly for a scavenger hunt, Patton had a handle on how to make things look presentable. Right now, It was a giant 3-layer cake with blue fondant covering, but soon, it would be a masterpiece.

Janus coughed uncomfortably behind Patton. "Um... Since i'm not very good at this stuff... Can I go? I have my own present I wanted to work on."

Patton smiled at him. "Sure! Don't spoil anything to Lolo, ok?"

Deceit nodded and almost left the kitchen before turning back and saying, "Uh, hey, Patpat? Don't stress yourself out too much, 'Kay?"

Patton nodded back. "Of course."

Janus smiled, relieved, and left.

---

---

Patton was SO TIRED.

It was 8 in the morning on Logan's Birthday. Patton had worked all night on that cake and when he had finally finished it, he went right to bed without doing anything in between. He had just woken up, feeling groggy and confused, but he made himself get out of bed because it was Logan's special day.

Logan woke up that day happy. He knew that a birthday was pointless, it was a celebration of one year passing in an entities life, it made no logical sense. But if the other sides wanted to shower him with attention once per fricking year, he did not want to miss this chance.

Patton got out of bed the last out of all the others. Logan had woken up to the other four sides, Janus, Remus, Roman, and Virgil ready for him in the living room with gifts and treats. Logan had thought that Patton would be the first there, energized and grinning, the way he always was. But Patton was nowhere in sight.

When Patton did come out, he put on his best happy face and gave Logan the biggest hug he could muster. Logan smiled a little. "To this day, I swear, your hugs might suffocate someone!"

Patton laughed and grinned at him, just happy he had gotten through yesterday.

First, they made breakfast. Jan made waffles with crofters jelly and eggs, and they all sat around the table reminiscing about the past. They talked about when logan first got his glasses, when he had a stutter, and everything else that Patton could remember. Which was everything, since Patton kept every memory stored in his room.

Next, they had gifts. Roman gave him a lab in the imagination; with chemistry sets, a telescope, and books upon books upon books. It was his own little area in Roman's realm so Logan could enjoy himself every now and then. Virgil gave him a dictionary of every word in the world, in every language. Janus gave him a replica of the Library of Alexandria, with all of the scrolls and books still there. "The original one was burned down with all of it's knowledge," he said, "So here is-" "OH MY GOD I LOVE IT THANK YOU!" Remus gave Logan an animal to dissect. But it wasn't a real animal, it was something Remus had made to give Logan something to do.

Patton promised Logan that his gift would come after dinner. He felt as though his cake paled in comparison to all of the gifts his friends had given. I mean, the Library of Alexandria? Patton sunk lower in his chair.

After gifts, they had lunch in a beautiful field that Roman had created, where the flies ate grass instead of your food, and every bird was adorned with beautiful shimmering colors and tail feathers. They had PB&J sandwiches (with crofters, of course), Goldfish, and apples. They talked for hours about nothing in particular, every now and then asking Roman about the creatures that walked by.

Logan was having a great time, but something seemed off. He looked around at the group and his eyes settled on Patton. The more he looked at him, the more tired he seemed. Logan noticed shadows under Patton's eyes for the first time, and saw that his smile was beginning to look more and more forced. Logan began to worry that one of them had done something wrong. The usual bundle of joy and energy that was Patton looked a lot more docile and tired than before.

Once it started to get dark (because Roman had set a day-night cycle in the imagination just so they would know when to go) they went back to the commons for dinner. Janus cooked some brown sugared ham with peas and rice, while Patton left to get the cake ready.

As Patton walked into the kitchen, he took a look at the cake on the pedestal. Dark fondant with baby blue frosting in swirls, and a little fondant necktie decoration on the second tear to tease about Logan's necktie. The name "Logan" was scribbled in white frosting on top.

He remembered the tall pillars in the Library of Alexandria Jan had made, he remembered the sparkling equipment Roman had conjured. He remembered the giant dictionary, the animal-

Patton looked at the cake and sighed. He honestly didn't know what he was thinking. But this was what he had done. He would just have to work with it, and maybe make up for it with a different gift later.

He picked up the large cake in his arms. It was very heavy, and there was one whole room between the kitchen and the dining room; the living area. Patton just had to bring it over.

He left the kitchen with the cake, and he was doing well with it considering he couldn't see his feet, and then he tripped.

...and then he tripped.

His foot caught against something on the ground and he stumbled, causing the cake to drop out of his arms and onto the floor. It fell sideways, and broke upon impact, and the cake broke up on the floor. Bits and pieces everywhere. Patton had fallen, and he had scraped his elbow, but he didn't care. He didn't care anymore.

He had spent a whole god-forsaken day trying to get this right. He remembered Roman's singing, Virgil's shaky hands, Remus's eating habits, Janus' scales, and he could feel himself sinking into the ground. He just wanted this to be perfect. Logan deserved something perfect.

The cake was broken, and the world was quiet, and Patton wondered for a moment if he had gone deaf. The Mindscape was silent. He felt the tears on his cheeks, but he didn't cry. Patton was the joyful and happy side, so he didn't cry. Water fell from his eyes in waterfalls and rivers across his skin, but he wasn't crying, that's not how he worked. Even when sobs racked his body and made his chest hurt. He wasn't crying.

It was just a god forsaken cake, why the heck was he crying? It was just a cake. It was just a cake.

Shoot, this isn't ABOUT THE CAKE.

Logan and all the other sides sat in the dining room, talking happily about whatever came to mind. Patton had left to get the cake, but he hadn't come back yet. Logan had eaten his dinner and was now staring at the door. He tried to focus on the conversation, but he thought Patton seemed a little late.

"Hey, Nerd, whatcha' looking at?" Roman asked, walking up behind his chair, bending down, and following Logan's line of sight.

Logan didn't turn his gaze from the door. "I feel like Pat should have been back by now. Actually, Roman, maybe you could check on him?"

Behind Logan's back, Roman and Virgil exchanged a glance, and Roman understood immediately.

"Actually, Lo, maybe you should go check on him? It is your cake after all."

Logan stood up from his chair and walked out of the dining room. "I suppose so."

Virgil snickered. "Oh my god, he is so oblivious. I ship them so badly..."

Logan walked out of the dining room and almost choked.

Patton was on the floor, with his hands in his face. Was he crying? Patton didn't cry. He was too happy to cry. He was too fricking perfect to cry. WHO THE HECK MADE PAT CRY?

Then logan saw the floor. The cake, he realized, was broken up and smashed to bits on the ground. The fondant was ripped apart, save for a small black fondant necktie. Patton must have dropped the cake. It looked like it had been big.

Logan didn't hesitate for a second. He kneeled down beside Patton, wrapping his arms around him and quietly letting him sob.

Patton felt someone's arms around him, and they had glasses, he knew, because the glasses were pressed against his temple. But that meant it was Logan. Logan was here, and he can see the cake, and he is probably so mad. Patton wrapped his arms around Logan and cried into his shoulder. He didn't like Logan to be angry. Hugs fixed that. Right?

"Pat? Patton, don't cry, what's wrong?"

Patton could barely find the breath to speak.

"I-I dropped it. The thing... I-I mess-Messed up... It's all g-gone..."

"Shhhh. Shhh, it's not your fault, don't worry. Patton, I love the cake. It's looks like it was beautiful, thank you."

Patton just kept sobbing, his glasses getting foggy. Logan knew the side was emotional, but really, it was just a cake, and Logan wasn't even mad at Patton. In fact, Logan didn't think he was capable of being mad at Patton.

Patton was sad about the cake. Of course, it was horribly destroyed, and he had spent a long, tiresome day making it perfect. And now it was all gone, and Patton had no gift to give.

To Pat, this was bigger than that though. Logan was supposed to have the perfect birthday, but Patton had messed all of that up. He had nothing to give logan. Every day of his life, his goal was to give something, to be helpful, and to care for others. He had messed up today.

"I-i don't know wh-what to do. I just... I just wanted-d to g-give you something. I-It's a-all gone n-now. Th-the d-day is ruined."

Logan frowned. What would someone with a better sense of emotions say? Seeing Patton like this made him so sad, what could he do?

He remembered something Pat had said to him a long time ago, when he was getting used to emotions. 'When someone is feeling down, speak from the heart! The best thing you can do is tell them the truth, and if they don't like it, then they have a right to feel a little sad. But you should still try!'

"Pat, I know you are sad. I understand that you wanted to make this a good day, but it WAS a good day. I enjoyed every moment of today. Sure, the cake is messed up, but it's the thought that counts, and you are already the best gift I could ask for."

Patton looked up in confusion. "Me?"

Logan was usually really bad at emotions, but right now, emotions seemed to be all he could muster. "You are so caring and joyful. And sweet. And kind. And I don't care about the cake, or any gift you give me, the fact that you are so set on making me feel cared for is enough. I'm just happy you're here, ok?"

Logan brushed a tear from Patton's eye and smiled. "I'm just happy you're here."

[rainbowrider1290]

My take on a Genshin Impact Circus AU Part 4 with Noelle as a strongwoman and Amber as a death-defying archery stuntwoman. Their backstories are under the cut!

Noelle:

First off I have a very self-indulgent headcanon that she is ridiculously strong. Like. Can benchpress people. Canonverse or AU.

She used to help out around the circus and she was kind of indifferent to the fact that she was likely going to be a maid. It's a respectable profession. And helping out at her childhood friends' (Kaeya and Diluc) manor as she'd been born into doing seemed like a good job.

How she got into the circus life requires a bit of backstory. Back when they were kids, Kaeya, Diluc, and Noelle would mess around (as kids do) and have little challenges for themselves. Who can run the fastest, who can do the best cartwheel, who can jump the highest, and the like.

Noelle got a little hesitant as she got into her early teens bc she was always told to be ladylike, so she spent one or two of their hangout sessions watching Kaeya and Diluc and talking. One day, however, Kaeya and Diluc are being Teenage Boys and lifting heavy things trying to outlift each other. Noelle has lifted furniture when cleaning up after these two so she figures this one unladylike thing would be okay.

She comes up behind them and just. Picks them both up. On top of the things they were lifting already. Kaeya and Diluc have to take a second and just look at her like "yeah no you are never sitting out of our competitions again"

And so they try other things like cartwheels and tests of courage like who can climb the highest on a tree and things are back to normal.

Skip forward a few years and Crepus dies. There's a huge mystery around it that not even his son's attendants are privy to. The only thing people know is that the sons have been sent away to boarding school. The whole manor is abandoned, all the workers fired.

Noelle for the next few years spends her time working at laundromats, and other odd jobs, but eventually she runs out of luck and suddenly there's too many people and not enough opportunities.

One of her friends from one of her old jobs invites her to go out and see this new circus that happens to be in town. She goes because why not. And wouldn't you know it one of the acts is her childhood friends doing these death-defying stunts that hit her with a wave of nostalgia bc their entire act consists of essentially the song "anything you can do" but with more and more dangerous stunts.

Noelle of course has to say hi, so they catch up and Noelle's lack of work comes up and would you look at that Aether and Lumine happen to have an opening for a maid.

So Noelle settles in, continuing to lift heavy shit to clean under it (Bennett swears up and down he saw her lift a fridge once but he might've been sleep-deprived). She also got into helping Chongyun with the techy stuff so sometimes she'll be at tech rehearsals moving things around and one time a rope holding up a person breaks near Noelle and she. catches it.

Now, one night. One of the acts drops out at the last moment bc injury or last-minute commitment or the like. And it leaves a gap in the show. Everyone else is busy. And panicking bc the circus is still relatively new and they really need to build their rep rn.

They start wondering what kind of last-minute acts they can put together like "what about the gymnasts??" "They all have group routines" "do they have old routines??" "Not polished enough for what we need" and someone somewhere pipes up "man I wish we had a strongman or something" and Diluc and Kaeya immediately whip their heads around to look at each other for like half a second before Kaeya bolts. He finds Noelle doing her usual rounds she's been doing for like a month now and Bennett was right, she is currently under a mini-fridge that she is lifting over her head whilst leaning it against a wall.

Kaeya takes Noelle by the shoulders and just zooms her over to where the commotion is happening and pitches the idea to Aether and Lumine. They're hesitant as hECK bc this is a huge risk they're taking since Noelle isn't even a performer but Diluc pitches that they could literally just scatter really heavy items and have Noelle clean under them and as long as she looks at the audience every once in a while it can be played off as a bit.

Noelle with qUITE the stammer says that she'll try her best but at this time is in need of a moment. She has never performed before. Kaeya and Diluc have to go perform so they leave her with a shoulder squeeze and a thumbs up.

She gets on-stage. She flinches under the lights for a second. She takes a deep breath and focuses on the first thing before her with her best "oh heavens, it's filthy in here", and she gets through the entire act by doing that for every object. So the audience is seeing this seemingly petite young girl lift the equivalent of a hecking car in order to clean under it.

Needless to say, there's roaring applause the second Noelle leaves (which she hears from far away because holy shit I just cleaned for people and they liked it)

This was a bit of a one-time thing and she goes back to her regular maid duties until the circus gets a new strongman by the name "Zhongli".

His style is more about lifting exTREMELY LARGE ROCKS, and breaking them in half whilst giving a history/geology lesson on them.

He quietly observes the maid who he hears fantastical stories of That One Time She Charmed An Audience By Cleaning. He was bewildered at first but saw the merit of it while watching her clean. He immediately decides that this girl has sO MUCH. POTENTIAL that is being wasted by having her work as a maid. He has nothing against maids or their profession, but he invites her to train with him.

Noelle gets hELLA stronger and they come to a conclusion. Noelle performs part-time and is a maid part-time. She doesn't have a particular performance style. She'll sometimes play catch with Zhongli and his big rocks, other times she'll be in the background of performers like Amber in the art lifting some hEAVY SHIT.

She gets along with Chongyun super well bc Chongyun has to make less trips to move his equipment since he's worked with her. She's a blessing for when they have to pack up and move.

Amber:

Amber's story is a little more straightforward. She started out engaged to a suitor. Amber was the kid in kindergarten who was learning about dragons and "idk what everyone else was doing". She's known what she wants for a long time, and what she wants at the moment, is not a relationship.

Throughout her childhood she was a very lonely child. Her family exposed her to lots of academic or ladylike things (do not ask me when this au is set, it's the 1800s and the 1990s at the same time or a suspendes steampunk time) to get her away from the thing she liked most: archery. She'd been exposed to it as a kid and latched on.

This drove a bunch of suitors away, so her family got more desperate and exposed her to more classes and activities to get her away from it. She went "that's easy, I'll just practice at night"

So she does that. She practices at night and underperforms in the coming weeks. It is during this time that her parents (high class ppl) find her a man to marry for some business deal idk.

The man's nice enough. It's just obvious he can only take Amber in small doses, and Amber takes full advantage of this to practice and stay in shape.

How Amber gets into the circus life was essentially running away. She bonds with Eula over this.

So because of all the attempts to make her fit into the ideal lady description, her rebellious streak said "yeah we're going to go as far away from that as possible" and she goes "I'm going to run away with the circus" bc that's what the books she's read say is the most rebellious thing you can do.

She finds THE FIRST circus she sees and begs to be let in. This is the shadiest most sketchy place but Amber sees it as the key to her freedom. She signs a contract.

They treat her like the US treats their students. She barely gets time to practice for performances and she's mostly doing dirty work. When they ask her what she can do she's like "I'm really good at archery" and they go "cool, you're going to be doing that while everything is on fire now. Can you do a handstand"

Essentially they push her and push her and push her to do more and more hazardous things she has to pick up on under the threat of being kicked to the curb.

After a while of this Amber is extremely burned out (pun intended) and as she's packing up after one of her shows, covered in burns but proud bc she hit all her targets without killing anyone, she's approached by a blond foreigner.

Tbh for all she's read, Amber really doesn't consider leaving and this time she can't run away since she's now bound by a contract (not Zhongli's btw in case anyone was wondering).

This foreigner tells her that there's so many ways to improve her situation and that he runs a circus looking for members.

Amber refuses since she's not getting tangled up in another legal mess, but she takes his advice on how to take care of her burns, and improve safety while she's performing.

Skip a few months. She hears word of this mysterious new circus around. Her encounter with who she'll later know as Aether stuck with her, and so she goes. To see whether she could really shoot her arrows without being burned alive.

After a show one night, she tries to get past security and fails repeatedly. She turns to leave and wouldn't you know it there's Aether. And Lumine. Waiting for her once she turns the corner. Amber's biggest concern is her existing contract and when Aether and Lumine say they have a nICE lawyer, Amber sees her next step to freedom.

Aether and Lumine essentially gain custody of Amber (but like for adults) and Amber is. Shocked. She's walked through her new contract of employment clearly and essentially treated like a human being.

And now that she knows things and has more freedom (though still under the watchful eyes of Aether and Lumine to see how she does) her creativity and competitive streak flourish. She decides she actually doesn't hate fire, she just doesn't like when she doesn't know when or where it's coming. And she makes fast friends with the gymnasts, so she ends up incorporating that into her routines. Now she uses her canon goggles to protect her from the burning eyes of prolonged smoke exposure when she uses fire.

When she meets a little pyromanic girl named Klee, she's thrilled that someone this chaotic and sure of herself exists.

[ds-defunct-council]

Hey guess who’s writing fics again

Shoutout to Mod Pencil/Chair for suggesting Trans Randy, Error, Nightmare, and Bobby

Also I may or may not have done one giant poly but hush

------

“EVERYONE TO THE KITCHEN!” Randy called, waiting patiently before hearing thundering footsteps from every corner of the house migrating towards him.

Eventually, the other inhabitants of the house all arrived to the kitchen (Error had walked normally unlike the others). Bobby and Nightmare were already raiding the fridge and began passing out the several paper bags stored within.

“Be careful out there.” Randy said, tossing a walkie talkie to Error, “Don’t want you guys getting caught.”

Bobby rolled her eyes, “Yeah whatever mom.”

Hacker chuckled, giving Randy a small kiss on the cheek before pushing Bobby lightly, “Calm down shorty, he’s just trying to keep us alive.”

Cross had to grab Bobby before she tried to attack Hacker. After managing to calm her down and grab his bag, he tore open a portal with his knife and gestured for the others to go through.

“If we’re not back in half an hour, assume we’ve been captured.” Nightmare said, giving Randy a hug before dashing through the portal.

Everyone took a chance to hug their tall boyfriend before also going through the portal to go screw Dream over.

As the portal closed Randy chuckled and turned back to the book he was reading, “Those idiots are too good for this world.”

------

“Everyone got their sandwiches?” Error asked.

A chorus of “Yup”s came from the others and he nodded before opening up his own portal that lead straight into JR.

“Now remember,” Nightmare said before any of them went through, “see any sign of Dream or a guard or something, tell everyone else so we can get out of there.”

“Got it, Mr. Leader.” Hacker said, hopping through the glitching portal.

Nightmare scoffed, “How rude. And here I thought you loved me.” and stepped through after the other.

After everyone was through, Error closed the portal. He pulled out the walkie talkie Randy had given him and clicked one of the buttons on it.

“Heya big guy,” He said, “we made it to the castle.”

After a moment, the walkie crackled and a distorted version of Randy’s voice came through, “Alright, I’ll set the timer. You guys be careful.”

“Will do!” Bobby shouted.

Randy chuckled, “Love you guys.” he said and the static stopped along with his voice.

“We got the materials?” Nightmare asked.

Cross set down the pack he was carrying and opened it, revealing multiple rolls of toilet paper, cans of spray paint, silly string, and other similar items.

He grinned, “Did you expect me to forget?”

“Now what kind of boyfriend do you think I am?” Nightmare shouted indignantly, “Of course I didn’t think you forgot all of it. But if you didn’t notice, you don’t have the speakers.”

Cross frowned and dug through the bag before cursing softly, “Well, guess you were right on that one.” he sighed and slung the pack back over his shoulder, “Whatever, I think we have enough stuff to get the job done anyways.”

“Well I know I can easily work with this if you guys can’t.” Bobby said with a shrug.

“Show off.” Hacker muttered, ruffling the others hair.

“Whatever computer boy.” Bobby responded, flicking Hacker lightly.

“Alright you idiots,” Error said, getting everyone’s attention, “time to go piss off the golden bucket of KFC.”

--A few hours later--

“INK! GET IN HERE!”

Ink groaned dramatically, standing up a stretching out his sore limbs. 

“Wonder what happened this time.” He mumbled, tossing on his jacket before wandering towards the source of Dream’s very angry voice.

It didn’t take long for him to notice that something was wrong though. After a few moments of walking down the unnecessarily long halls, he heard a faint buzzing noise. He couldn’t tell if he was confused or distressed by the noise, which was also getting louder, but continued on anyways while slowly grabbing his brush.

“The heck-?” He muttered, spotting Dream standing in the hallway in front of him.

It was difficult to suppress a laugh upon seeing the other though. Dream looked very distressed to say the least. His wings were puffed up and he was somehow more stiff than usual. He was pacing around the area, obviously bothered by something when he spotted Ink.

He walked briskly over to the artist, “WHAT is that noise?!” he hissed.

Ink barely avoided bursting into laughter and managed to keep a somewhat straight face, “I’m... Not really sure. It seems to be coming from this area specifically.”

“I KNOW!” Dream shouted, causing Ink to jump in surprise, “It’s ESPECIALLY prominent in my office!” he ran his fingers through his hair, seeming to grow more distressed by the minute, “I just can’t figure out how!”

Ink slowly opened the door to Dream’s office and, sure enough, was suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of the buzzing noise. He started poking around, trying to find the source of the sound before noticing something. He reached into a file on Dream’s desk and pulled out a small metal object. It was vibrating fast enough to make a buzzing sound and Ink could feel his hand start shaking when he picked it up. After examining the small object for a moment, he tossed it onto the floor and stomped on it, making sure to step on it a few more times and grind his heel into the shattered metal pieces for good measure.

“Found our culprit.” He said, pointing to the now unidentifiable device, “Pretty sure there’s still a bunch more though.”

Dream walked in quickly, still bristling from the sound, “Where did you find this... thing?” 

Ink gestured at the file he had found it in and Dream frowned before picking it up and opening it. Ink watched as Dream’s face went from frustrated to confused and eventually, completely enraged. He practically screamed in annoyance, throwing the file at the ground.

He grabbed Ink by his scarf, “I want this castle turned upside down to find every. Last. One. Of these damned things or so help me I’m firing all of you.”

With that, the once calm and collected CEO stormed out of his office with a look that screamed murderous intent. Still recovering from the shock of being manhandled by his boss, Ink blinked a few times before picking up the file himself. He read through it and couldn’t help but burst out laughing when he finished.

Dear my winged nemesis,

I hope you enjoy the little gift we left you <3

P.S, I hate your guts :)

-Nightmare, Hacker, Cross, Bobby, Error, and Randy

After managing to calm down, Ink just chuckled before tossing the file in the trash, “Holy cow, Dream is going to literally murder those guys.”

~~~~

This took WAY longer than it should have to write oh my gOSH

Anyways, thanks to our lovely anon friends and @multi-fandoms-posts (Along with my fellow Crackhead Council members) for unintentionally making this prompt. Hope yalls enjoy this (Probably very ooc) thing <3

Dreamswap belongs to the wonderful @onebizarrekai

Fic by Mod General :)

[nakedmossy]

hiii, i saw that ur request are open soooo, i was thinking something with the reader an jj, something like they both have feeling for each other but they never say it out loud, and one day reader hears jj talking to jb about how he cant relly see any type of dating, sooOo she ignores him for a while and it ends kinda fluffly o smutty or smutty fluffy and shit if u dont mind ofc :)

DAMN. LOVE THIS REQUEST. HECK YEAH!! Tried to keep this under 2k words and just *could not* so please enjoy this 3k word vomit. Love you!

_________________________________________

“I’m living for the thrill, man. You know how I do. Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies.”

You heard JJ over the sound of the music blaring from inside the Chateau as you jogged up the steps, swinging your backpack off and throwing it on the porch sofa before pushing through the screen door.

“Hey, Y/N” John B waved at you as you entered the kitchen.

You threw a peace sign up and said ‘hey’ as you pulled a chair out and put your feet up to rest on the seat beside you. You hadn’t sat down since 6am when your shift at the docks had started and your feet were killing you. Your yellow vans had dirt on the side so you leaned forward to wipe it off as JJ pulled his head out of the fridge.

“Ah, m’Lady. For you” He tossed a beer at you, you tipped it at him in a ‘cheers’ as you both cracked your cans at the same time. “And how is our fair dock maiden on this beautiful day” He smiled at you like he had smiled at you a million times before, but softer, and like he was seeing you in a new dress.

You smiled at him and chuckled, you could smell the pot lingering on his shirt from here and his goofy grin always gave you butterflies. The sun coming through the window illuminated his soft golden hair and made his bare chest look even more defined and chiselled.

“Good” You said after swallowing your mouthful of beer, closing your eyes and leaning back in your chair.

“Anyways, as I was saying, it’s going to be an absolute and solid banger, my dude.” JJ resumed his conversation with John B while lifting your feet off the chair beside you and sitting down, placing your legs on his lap. “We’re going to be running away from girls by the end of the night, I promise you.” He started drawling circles on your ankles and playing with your shoelace. Your heart was fluttering.

You perked up at his comment, opening your eyes and looking from him to John B curiously.

“What are you two conspiring now” You prodded, taking another drink of your beer.

“Kegger. Tonight. The Bone Yard. You coming?” JJ looked over at you and smiled, his eyes soft. You swore you felt him outline a heart on your skin.

“Wouldn’t miss it” You said half-heartedly. You knew what this would turn out to be – you would have fun at the beginning of the night, then would spend the rest of the night watching JJ pick up touron girls and fully embrace his lifestyle of being an adolescent womanizer. It was a pattern.

You pulled your legs off him and stood up to walk to the washroom. While you were washing your hands you heard the usual lull of conversation drop and their voices become quieter. Your stomach fluttered, you felt like they were trying to be quiet on purpose. You pressed your ear to the door and listened intently, hearing John B say something about eventually needing to stop running after anything with boobs and a mouth. JJ’s voice was still quiet but you clearly heard him say “that’s not me bro. I’m not settling down, as if there’s anything to settle down for here.”

You felt your face get hot and your stomach drop. There it was. The confirmation you had been dreading but fully expecting for months. You had felt a connection with JJ since you had started spending more time together last summer, and throughout the entire school year you had felt like you guys had been clicking. Of course you had been hopeful he felt the same way, you hadn’t pushed it or asked. But you also knew what kind of guy JJ was, as much as it pained you to admit it. Of course he would never settle for a girl like you.

You cleared your throat as you opened the door and flicked the light off. When you rounded the corner, the boys sat back in their chairs again and kept chirping off about the party later. You barely said anything, just walked past the table and out the door where you saw Kie pulling up in her car. You grabbed your backpack off the couch and practically ran down the steps. You heard JJ call your name from inside the house but didn’t turn around.

“Kie” You said with a dramatic exhale when she got out of her car, grinning brightly at you. “Save me”

“What’s the haps my little sunflower” She lifted her sunglasses off her face on top of her head and put her arm around your shoulder, about to guide you back inside. You planted your feet and mustered the best begging face you could.

“Please, for the love of all things holy, take me away from here. I can’t sit there and listen to JJ talk about all the ‘fine ass’ he plans to tap tonight. Kie smiled sheepishly and poked a finger into your stomach.

“Girl. You know he only does that to make you jealous.”

Kie had known about your crush on JJ for years, but had promised to not say or do anything under fear of death. You shook your head at her and looked at your feet.

“Nah, Kie... I heard him….I heard him talking to John B when I was in the bathroom.”

“And?”

“And he literally said there is nothing here for me to settle down for. What more proof do I need?”

Kie’s face fell and she tilted her head, watching you with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that. Just come inside for a bit. We can get ready for the Kegger together.”

You bit your lip and shook your head, stepping around her. So she wasn’t going to save you then. Of course she just wanted to spend more time with John B, you had noticed how she had started looking at him since he had been threatened with being placed out into foster care.

“Forget it. I’ll see you later.”

“Y/N, wait! Come on!” She yelled, but you just waved your hand behind you and kept walking. You grabbed your bike from the edge of the drive and started down the road.

You heard JJ yell your name from the porch but kept going.

~~~

You arrived at the party an hour late and already drunk. You had pre-drank with one of the girls you worked the docks with, and had done little to get ready aside from taking your hair out of its braid and putting shimmer lotion over your darkly tanned skin. You had opted into wearing a skimpier outfit than you normally would have, but normally you wouldn’t be at a Kegger to pick someone up. Tonight was different. You had had a few hours to drink away your pain over JJ’s comment and come to terms with your new reality – the beer (and your co-worker who was 3 years older than you and known for working more than one job on the island if you catch the meaning) had convinced you it was a good idea to wear short shorts and a tube top (no bra which was weird for you), exposing so much skin your tan lines were visible. You tried as hard as you could to avoid JJ and John B and Kie for the first hour, but eventually Kie wandered over to you and stood with a hand on her hip, a very judgey expression on her face.

“You have a very judgey expression on your face” was all you said to her.

“So first you bail on me at John B’s and then you show up to the Kegger half cut and wearing a napkin as a top. JJ has been looking for you all night and said you kept walking away from him. What the fuck, Y/N?”

You grabbed a fresh beer from the too-young looking junior boy who was operating it and smiled hazily at him. When you looked back at Kie she was watching you like you had two heads.

“I just needed some space.” You said before taking a drink. Swallowing, you continued “it’s not every day you get your heart broken” you said blandly, then smacked your cup into hers and said “cheers” sarcastically before walking off.

~~~

Later in the night, after multiple beers and having seen JJ flirting with at least two different girls who were definitely not local, you stood over by the edge of the beach watching the waves pummel the shoreline rhythmically. That’s when you heard a boy say “you look lonely” from behind you. You spun around and smiled at the tall boy who had jet black hair and a Harvard sweater on. He had sparkling white teeth and dimples, even fairly drunk you could see how attractive and well-built he was.

“Alec” He smiled, stretching his hand out. You took it and loosely squeezed, shifting your weight to a different foot and losing your balance. “Easy there” he smiled, steadying you with his other hand.

“Y/N” You said in an embarrassingly slurred voice. You smiling knowingly and blushed. “Harvard?” You said tamely, pointing your cup hand at his sweater.

He nodded and flicked his hair, smiling. He started to say something but just past him you saw JJ standing next to a crowd, looking over at you. You felt your stomach plummet and your face get hot. He raised his hand to wave, but you stared back blankly. Perfect, this guy will do nicely. You thought and grabbed Alec’s face as he was mid-sentence, pressing your lips to his. He had frozen at first, but had quickly recuperated and started kissing you back, his hands moving to your back and butt. He was either more drunk then he looked, or he was a floozy. Probably the latter, being a Harvard kook.

You got lost in his mouth and his hands and his embrace for a few minutes until you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

“Y/N, time to go, bus is leaving.” The two of you broke apart and looked behind Alec to see JJ standing rather close, his arms crossed over his chest, unimpressed.

“Get lost, kid” Alec said to JJ, looking back at you and ducking his head to kiss you again.

“Seriously, Y/N. Come on.” JJ insisted. You both ignored him. “Alright, Kook. Kindly fuck off now.” JJ slammed his hands onto Alec’s shoulders and pulled him backwards off of you.

Alec spun around to shove JJ and JJ pushed his chest out, standing tall and matching Alec’s tall 6ft stature. They stood face to face, eyeing each other up and down.

“What’s your problem man?” Alec pushed JJ away from him with one hand.

“You’re mackin on my girl is my problem. Beat it!”

Alec looked from JJ back to you and rose his eyebrows before throwing his hands up and walking away muttering “control your girl then man, not my problem.”

“What the fuck, JJ!” You exclaimed, glaring at him. Your mind was still reeling, you hadn’t missed where he had said ‘mackin on my girl’.

“I told you, bus is leaving. You know the rules.”

“I’m not leaving with you.” You said with an ‘as if’ expression on your face. “I’m good. See ya”

You started to walk past him when you felt his arm reach out to block you. He looked over at you with a confused expression and moved to stand in front of you. Your eyebrows shot to 11’s as you stared at him.

“Seriously?” You said with an annoyed tone, trying to shove him out of the way.

“You’re drunk, Y/N. Let’s go.”

“I’m fine, like I said. And I’m not leaving with you, like I said.”

JJ looked equal parts confused and hurt now, but he stood his ground and held his arm out again when you tried to walk around him.

“What’s going on with you?” He said in a quieter tone now, trying to hold eye contact with you. You felt the sensation creeping back into your stomach that you felt so many times last summer and throughout the school year, the butterflies and the adrenaline. “Did you even know that guy?”

“No.” You stood firm and kept your head up. JJ looked at you expectantly and shook his head.

“Then what? What was that?”

“Oh, god JJ seriously? What!” You were raising your voice now. “I’m not allowed to have a little fun too? You’re such a fucking hypocrite.” You felt like you were sobering up slowly, but your words were still slurring lightly.

“What are you talking about?” JJ looked dumbfounded.

“Yeah, sure. Okay JJ. Whatever” You rolled your eyes and took a step back so you could breathe properly again, standing that close to him was suffocating. His eyes were wide and his face was genuinely confused. He opened his mouth to speak but raised his shoulders instead, pleadingly.

“Seriously? God…I heard you, okay? I heard you talking to John B. I heard you say that you weren’t the dating type, that there was nothing here for you to settle for anyways. I got it. Message received. So don’t act confused when I want to move on alright? That fucking hurt, man.”

Once you had finished your shoulders had slumped and you felt deflated. Oh, good lord. You hadn’t meant for the word vomit to come out that fast or at all really. Awesome, well done.

JJ looked taken back, then he looked concerned, then he settled on looking upset. He closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face, turning around for a second before turning back to you, putting his hands on his hips briefly.

“Y/N….” He started, taking a step towards you, but you stepped back and put your hands up.

“It’s fine. I just….forget it.” You said, then a wave of confidence hit you and you perked up, taking a step towards him. “It’s just…we had the best summer, you know? Like, the best summer. And this year was like…the best year I’ve had, ever. And now this. I don’t know, it just sucks.” You watched the shock wash over JJ’s face and felt suddenly guilty. “Forget it, its fine. I don’t know why I expected anything, I know I’m just…me” You looked down at your feet and suddenly felt very dizzy. You swayed on your feet and felt JJ’s hand reach out to steady you. He took a step closer and was directly in front of you now.

“Y/N, hey. Hey” He said until you looked up at him, startled by how close he suddenly was. His face was gentle but firm. He saw your face, probably looking slightly green, and walked you over to a log to sit down. He sat so close to you that your legs were firmly pressed together, he kept a hand on your arm and adjusted his seat to face you more directly.

“You never…said anything.” He said quietly, his eyes on you. “I thought you…ugh”

You looked over at him, embarrassed and fuzzy. Probably blushing. Fantastic. He looked at you with a smile now, newly happy about something.

“What” You poked, confused why he was suddenly in a good mood.

“I mean come on, Y/N. Look at you. You’re….way out of my league.” He was almost laughing.

“What” You said, now squinting to see him better, practically glaring.

“I always just…resigned myself to thinking you would end up with like…I don’t know a pogue Harvard sweater over there” He pointed to the direction Alec had walked off in. “I’m like…a dirty but moderately smart street rat.” He said mildly joking, but you could hear the insecurity undertone.

You felt your chest constricting and your heart pounding. Was he joking? He must be joking. You stared at each other for a few silent moments until you finally broke the tense silence.

“JJ you aren’t even moderately smart if you didn’t notice. I wasn’t that discreet.” You said quietly, looking at your lap again.

You opened your mouth to say that it was fine and you understood but as soon as you started to talk you felt JJ move towards you and lift his hand to your face and then suddenly he was pulling you towards him, kissing you firmly. Your brain and your heart and your chest and your stomach exploded with fire and adrenaline and you could feel your limbs numbing. You had wanted to kiss JJ for so long but now it was happening and you were so drunk and you had made such a fool of yourself and you didn’t know what to do so you kissed him back and tried to enjoy the feeling of his lips on yours. After a few seconds he pulled away and looked at you, then smiled and broke into a grin so big his dimples were practically squishing into his eyes.

You felt so warm and so happy that you melted towards JJ again and kissed him until your lips were sore and the music had died down and you heard someone clearing their throat.

“Bus is actually leaving” Kie smiled at you when you looked over JJ’s shoulder. She winked and walked backwards towards where Pope and John B were gathered, finishing their drinks and whistling.

“No pogue on pogue macking!” Pope shouted over at you, laughing as John B whistled and threw his empty cup towards you, hitting JJ in the arm. JJ waved them off and pulled you into his chest, laughing as the crew started littering a collection of empty cups at the two of you and yipping and hollering. You nuzzled into JJ’s chest, not quite ready for the moment to be over yet, and smiled. Finally.