#Me when a small insignificance happens when I’m already in a bad mood:

[jellyjamheadobb]

[stunning-eclipse]

A rant on Emperor Nefarious’ signs of BPD

So, you’ve heard me rambling about this for a while, and I’ve been super ecstatic to begin talking about this. 

Let me preface this by saying... I also happen to have BPD. If you don’t already know, BPD is Borderline Personality Disorder, and it impacts every faucet of reality in your life. The way you see yourself, others, the world as a whole. Hopefully not only will this make more people understand BPD, but also help others understand why the Emperor is such a special character to me.

SO! Let’s get on with it. Let’s start with the most obvious thing about him and go on from there...

PART ONE: HIS NEED FOR AFFECTION AND OBSESSION WITH HIS IMAGE.

In the entirety of Rift Apart, there is one thing that the Emperor will NOT let you forget... and it’s that he is flawless and deserves to be loved. Now, while yes, part of this can be attributed to narcissism (which I will touch upon later in this little essay), part of it can also lead back to the fact... one of the key things that causes BPD is a childhood lack of affection. It can lead us to crave affection much more than any regular member of society, and due to that, we may do odd things to gain said affection. One of the more common methods is dubbed “love bombing”, where, in order to receive affection, we will show affection first. In more toxic faucets, we will love bomb those we don’t even relatively like or care about, we just need the affection. That leads me back to the Emperor... “Do not fear that sensation of cold scrutiny washing over your body. It is only our Emperor’s unyielding love for you.”

There are several instances of the Emperor love bombing his citizens, albeit very falsely. His personal assistant’s promises of how much he loves them all, how he spoils them with parties and music all in his image. After all, if he shows them love... he deserves it in return, yes? And if his love fails to be returned, it’s been shown he does not take that lightly. 

When love bombing fails for someone with BPD and we do not receive what we deem “adequate” affection back, we can sometimes get rather irrational. We’ll either start to believe we aren’t loved back, or perhaps you hate us? Our thoughts can spiral easily into the worst, leading us to shut people out or even cut people out entirely over things like this... and here is the Emperor, cutting people out of the equation the moment they don’t show affection back. 

If he was merely narcissistic, he would not show that “love” back.

“I REFUSE to be a footnote in history. I-- I AM history!”

Another point is his undying need to keep his image intact. And no, I’m not meaning his physical image. I mean his status. He can’t bear lose importance, and he will stop at nothing to stay special to everyone.

“They all love me... YOU all LOVE me! I am the destined Emperor of this dimension-- of EVERY dimension!”

He needs that love and importance. Without it, one can only imagine how insignificant he must feel. That’s another factor of BPD that a lot of us struggle with... the fact that, if something ever happens or goes wrong, perhaps we make one small mistake. Or one bad thing is said about us from someone who happens to dislike us... immediately, we begin to panic. It’s the end for us, we’ll lose everything. Our entire image is fouled, soiled, ruined. So in a desperate panic, we do all we can to regain that status, that image, we “lost”, even if no one sees us differently... 

Once we become important to others, we can’t stand the possibility of losing said importance. If someone becomes more important to someone we’re closed to, we can view that person as an enemy of ours, a rival of sorts. We get over it eventually of course, but our judgement can become clouded for a while, especially around the ones that “ruined our image”.

PART TWO: HIS MOOD SWINGS. DEAR GOD HIS MOOD SWINGS. OH, AND PERSONALITY SHIFTS.

“That’s it...? Where’s the joy, the bliss...? The murderous enlightenment? Why don’t I feel any different?”

Now this is something that certainly doesn’t need much explaining, now does it? The Emperor certainly has some mood swings if I’ve ever seen them. And boy, is it just as bad with BPD. Say one wrong thing, and we will go from happy and chipper to dreading every second with you. Sometimes, you don’t even have to say something. Anything can throw us down into a spiral... and anything can also throw us into a chipper, upbeat mood.  “What could you possibly know about success, you-... That’s it! I haven’t really won yet! There is still so many other dimensions waiting to be conquered!”

Our own thoughts can shift our mood significantly. There need not be a trigger to any of our moods, merely a simple thought can swing our emotions entirely. Must I really go in depth any further? 

“Ahh... Oh NO! The thankless, uninspiring dimensions are collapsing?! Oh, how COULD I?!”

I’ll go ahead and throw in the goal shifts in here as well. The mere fact that, during a clear meltdown his entire goal shifted from ruling all dimensions to destroying all dimensions is yet another small sign but really its more attributed to the whole personality shift issue for me. But I do understand that he could’ve also been having a slight personality shift issue as well, as his entire persona was thrown out the window during that latter half of the fight.

PART THREE: HIS “FAVORITE PERSON”, DOCTOR NEFARIOUS (HEAR ME OUT ON THIS.)

“Sargasso needs to Sargass-GO.”

“AAHAHAHAHA- ahem... aahhahhaha...!”

Now, I’m not going to act like the two had a good relationship. They certainly did not. But a good relationship is not what defines a favorite person. A favorite person is more so the one you are obsessed with, the one you can’t stand being away from you, the one you both trust the most... and trust the least. You’ll love them, then question if you want them around. They’ll see your best, and they’ll see your worst... they’ll be there for you during your bad moments and be there during your best... And that’s what the Doctor was for the Emperor.

The mere fact that he kept the Doctor around for as long as he did, and right beside him? How he genuinely lost it at one of his jokes, at how he actually opened up about his obvious depression he was feeling despite having “eliminated his allies”? There’s so much evidence at Doctor being genuinely important to him, despite clearly also hating his guts. He’s obsessed with having him around and doesn’t want him away, or else he would have either killed him or shoved him away to do his dirty work just as he does with his personal assisstant. 

“Rivet? You... are no longer in exile?! What has gotten INTO you lately?! Ha! I was so used to you being dull!”

The only other person he’s shown a genuine obsession for is funnily enough... Rivet. He made armor for her, clearly in hopes of her joining his side someday. Also, the fact he genuinely seems to know her better than any of the other rebels is interesting as well. Clearly they are rivals, but I do believe he genuinely wants her on his side. Either for the fact she has obvious potential, or perhaps he wanted a genuine friendship of sorts, though I... highly doubt that. Most likely, she was just seen as an asset, a valuable potential one at that.

And...

Last but CERTAINLY not least...

PART FOUR: NARCISSISM.

“And boy I’m so freakin’ hot!”

“You’re scalding...”

Believe it or not, narcissism is not a trait only found in NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder), but it is also most certainly found in BPD as well. Although less common, some of us certainly struggle with it. While I struggled with it much more when I was younger and didn’t quite have a grip on my disorder yet, it’s definitely an issue that I struggle with on some occasions. This is one of the odd portions of the disorder that, if had, can make diagnosing whether someone has NPD or BPD harder. 

I don’t necessarily think I need to explain the Emperor’s narcissism. He loves himself. A LOT. Perhaps (definitely) too much. Statues of him across the city, his music playing everywhere, a club named after him, etc etc. The man has an ego the size of his own city, and yet it crumbles just as easily as his mental state seems to. What differentiates his narcissism from NPD and BPD is all the other signs of BPD. People with NPD fail to show affection and, while the Emperor certainly doesn’t show it adequately, he certainly love bombs like one would with BPD. Also, the clear favoritism with Doctor and Rivet, as well as his need for affection... That’s the other big one. People with NPD are less obsessed with needing affection, yet the Emperor cannot handle a mere few moments without being praised by his people. 

PART FIVE: WRAPPING THIS ESSAY UP.

Basically, what the goal was in this was to show that the Emperor is a much more three-dimensional (haha... get it-) character than some may have been led to believe. He’s a character I related with a lot due to my own struggles, so I immediately felt connected with him. Oh, and I’m sure I missed a point or two, so if I forgot something I’ll either add it later, or feel free to ask me to address other things you may have questions about!!! I love explaining more about the disorders I struggle with, especially since people with BPD are largely misunderstood sadly enough. While we may handle a lot of toxic traits, we do typically get a strong grip on them. The Emperor just hasn’t-

I will also admit that I am basing these off of my own experiences with BPD, and each experience is different. While some with BPD don’t struggle with narcissism at all, some do. While some might not struggle with needing affection, some do. All people with disorders have varying experiences, and that is an important distinction. In the end, all I really have to say is if you struggle with any of these issues, definitely reach out to someone you trust or a therapist and they will help you as much as they can <3 it’s hard having BPD, but a happy life is achievable. It may not be easy, but with enough dedication and determination, it’s possible.

[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.”

[kinsurou]

After Class

Pairings: Takami Keigo x Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), No Quirks! AU, Sex in a classroom, Reader is a virgin.

Here's my very first piece of smut, please fasten your seatbelts and enjoy the show!

It takes all of your willpower to hold back the pent-up rage growing inside you like a fire doused in gasoline, everyone in the classroom can see the poker face you're trying to maintain is dangerously close to break and let out a horrifying monster called your temper.

Everyone except for the teacher can see you're nearly at your limit, there's an enormous urge to punch someone in the face that keeps growing, and that someone just happens to be the same woman giving you an earful in front of the whole class.

"You should be paying more attention during class instead of being on your phone!" She turns back towards the rest of her students. "Let this be an example to all of you! Don't be like your classmate here!"

She slams her bottle of water in your desk, for dramatic purpose, and finally, she walks back to her own desk, feeling satisfied with her actions. How in the world did someone like her become a college teacher in the first place is a question you'll never get a proper answer to.

There's actually a reason why she's been treating you like this for the past two weeks. A reason that just happens to walk inside the classroom a few minutes after the bell rings, he's carrying a stack of papers in hand, accompanied by a lazy grin stretched all over his face, but that expression quickly shifts to confusion and concern once he feels the tension inside the classroom.

"Sheesh, what's with the long faces guys?"

The teacher's mood flips in an instant. She starts greeting him with a big smile, and there's a not so subtle glint in her eyes that makes many, if not all of her students, cringe in repulse.

"Hi there Takami! Now this is a surprise, is Tanaka not coming today?"

"Good morning to you too Ms. Ito." He replies. "No, professor Tanaka called in sick, but he asked me to watch over the kids for today and hand out their exams. Though judging by everyone's mood, I'm guessing something happened?"

Ito just waves off his question nonchalantly. "I was just talking to everyone not to follow their classmate's example," She throws a dirty look at you from the corner of her eye. "Can you believe the nerve of this girl? Being on her phone in the middle of my lecture? Some people are just completely ungrateful when it comes to their education!"

In the meantime, you're biting down on your lower lip with such force, it's almost a surprise there's not a sight of blood, you're trying so very hard to ignore her snide remarks, all in favor of taking notes from the whiteboard in front of the classroom.

The only thing you were to blame for was forgetting to put your phone on Silent, otherwise she wouldn't have batted an eye when the device rang with a text from your mother. And yet all this woman wanted was an excuse to make you look bad in front of everyone, she just happened to find one at the right moment.

"He's so looking your way right now˜. "Your best friend whispers from your right, with that teasing tone you know all too well.

"Shut.up." You hiss, not really in the mood for another earful after the little stunt with the teacher.

You don't bother paying attention while the blond's gaze lingers on you, disregarding the woman's attempt to get the spotlight with ease, leaving her desperate to make another futile attempt until she finally realizes her class is over. All she can do to keep the remains of her dignity is walk out of the classroom with a huff and a sour attitude.

You feel pity for the students in her next class, they haven't even started the lesson yet and are going to have to deal with the human equivalent of a Tasmanian devil. You could almost listen to her yelling from across the campus already.

Takami Keigo, also nicknamed "Hawks" by his friends, is a teacher's assistant at your college. Older than the majority of your class only by two years, and yet he behaves in such a professional manner with everyone that is hard to believe he's actually a student as well.

It's hard not to like him when he's so chill with everyone, for even in cases like this, when he's asked to take over after a teacher's unavailable, Hawk's only assignment is to stay with the class during the whole period. This time however, he comes carrying a stack of papers.

"Alright kids," He starts, just to be interrupted by one of your classmates.

"Seriously Hawks? You're not that older than us!" They're obviously joking around with him, it's hard to be serious when this guy is around.

"Respect your elders kid!" Laughter fills the whole classroom, dissipating the tension in the air like it's nothing but mist.

Everyone but you is laughing their hearts out, until Hawks points out the contents of the papers.

"As I was saying, Your teacher had to attend some personal business, but he asked me to hand out your test results, and let me tell you guys one thing..." The following silence leaves everyone on edge. "All of you did an amazing job! I don't think I've ever seen so many good notes in a single classroom!"

Everyone starts yelling at him comically. All of you know just how much he enjoys teasing people, but somehow you can't ever get used to his teasing, and he knows it, it's why he's always abusing of his little tendency.

Anybody could agree he's the total opposite of Miss Ito. A 27-years old teacher who's always arguing with her own students for something as insignificant as yawning. Someone who apparently forgot the rule where it says it's strictly forbidden for a teacher to date a student.

That doesn't seem to stop her from throwing hints at a small group of guys, each from a different classroom, and it most certainly doesn't stop her from trying to flirt with the new teacher's assistant.

Hawks starts walking through each row of desks, handing out the papers one by one, each time he gives somebody their sheet of paper you can hear him telling everyone they did a good job.

Once he hands out your own test, his fingers brush against your own with subtleness, sending a small shiver all the way down your arms.

"Good job kid, You had one of the best grades out of the whole class. Your teacher said the same thing too, y'know." The way he says those words with such a reassuring energy makes all the anger inside you leave, no longer the urges to smack somebody tempts you to go looking for Miss Ito and shove your papers up her nose.

All you can muster is a small smile at the guy standing in front of you.

He smiles in return and walks to the next row of seats, ready to hand out the rest of the results.

It's only after he leaves your sight that you see it. A small post it note at the corner of your exam, and judging by the neat handwriting, it's a note from Hawks.

"Meet me after class, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Just when in the world did he write this? You didn't even notice when he put the tiny piece of paper in your test.

...Were you in trouble for something?

"Look Y/N! I've never had such a high grade before!" Your friend's voice snaps you out of the small paranoic fit. Turning towards him, your eyes widen in shock after seeing the results, and even you are surprised by how well he did on his exam.

"What the hell F/N? You got a perfect score!" You can't help the smile of pride that comes out, proud at F/N for getting such a good grade. He wasn't the worst student, but he wasn't the best either, so seeing the perfect score in his paper was something worth celebrating for.

The rest of the class goes by pretty quickly. Most of the time is spent reviewing the results of your exams with each other, and organizing future study sessions for the subjects you happened to have the most trouble with.

The loud ringing of the bell indicates the end of the last period. And with that everyone can finally leave for the day.

Except for you...

"We have to celebrate this! What do you say we go to that pizza place we love?" F/N stands from his chair to stretch his whole body, you wince at the loud "POP!" coming from his back.

"Maybe tomorrow? There's something I need to do first..." Your eyes wander back to the little pocket in your bag, where the little neon yellow note is carefully tucked away.

"Alright, I'll call you tonight then! See you on Saturday!" With that he walks out of the room along with the rest of your classmates. You're slowly putting all your stuff inside your bag, and it's until the last book is neatly stored alongside the rest of the notebooks and pens that you look up from your seat.

And he's sitting on top of the teacher's desk, Hawks keeps staring at you with something unknown deep inside those amber eyes of his, something lingers in that look and it makes you feel weird on the inside.

But you managed to keep calm before he starts talking.

"That was quite the ruckus back there, uh?" He chuckles, eyes closed as he leans back on the wooden surface.

All you can do is sigh in annoyance at the reminder of your teacher's words.

"Do you want me to remind you why she's being a bitch to me in the first place?" Your mind is faster than your brain, a hand shots up to cover it in shame once you realize what you just called her in front of an unofficial staff member.

But his laughter only becomes louder at your words. Hawks is literally shaking in place, small tears prickling his eyes and head tilted back.

"Easy there, I'm fully aware of it and I take the full blame for it."

He knows it's his fault Miss Ito hates you right now, all because the blond haired male was being friendly with you the other day. The same guy she had laid her eyes on. If there's something you all know is that when Miss Ito gets her eyes on someone single, approaching them is like a death sentence.

Sadly you became one of her targets by pure accident. And now you have to suffer the consequences of something unnecessary.

"But look at the bright side," He goes on. "She can't really lower your grades for no reason, count the fact you have one of the highest grades in her class and it'll look suspicious if you ask me. So for now, just keep up the good work."

You take another look at his features while getting up from your chair. His eyes hold nothing but sincerity, the easy going mood as he stands up from his seat is still evident.

But once he starts getting closer everything changes in the blink of an eye.

He's standing right in front of you, his arms caging your body between his own and your desk. The smell of his cologne quickly invading your nostrils. A subtle combination between citrus and musk that seems to fit Hawks perfectly, it's an alluring and addictive smell that makes you want to lean forward and breath said scent deeply.

That snaps you back to reality, and causes you to look up at him in the eye. A hue of crimson crawling its way up from your neck to your whole face. The whole room's beginning to spin all around you from the nerves struggling to take control.

"W-What are you doing?" The feigned confidence makes him rise an eyebrow in amusement, the glint in his eyes still present as he takes another look at you. His gaze pierces its way into your soul with such ease that it makes it hard to keep eye contact with the man trapping you between his arms.

"I think I should have been more direct from the very beginning..." He leans closer, warm breath hitting your face, making another course of goosebumps run down through your body in big waves.

There's a small and not so foreign feeling between your thighs, making the situation ten times worse.

You know what that feeling is, you just haven't felt anything like it before...

"I don't think I've ever met someone like you. Someone as hard working," His cheek nudges your own as he leans further and inhales your own scent, your bodies are pressed against each other with such an overwhelming amount of strength for someone as lean as Hawks.

"Someone as strong..."One of his hands caress your hip, making you gasp at the sensation of his hands brushing against your skin despite the layer of clothing covering your body.

"Someone as attractive." He's enamoured by the way your face turns away from him, eyes closed tightly from something as simple as his touch.

"If I'm being honest with you..." That same hand caressing your hip goes up, trapping your chin in between his fingers before turning it back to face him, his thumb skims over the outline of your lower lip with such a tender touch, it's enough to make you open your eyes to look at him.

That glint on his eyes is still in there, but this time, with everything happening right now, it all makes sense. This time you can tell just what that glint really means.

"I want you."

It meant lust.

His lips come crashing down on yours filled with never ending passion and lust. Hawks leans in closer, wrapping his arms around your hips as he ravishes your mouth. The warmth of his body makes you feel dizzy, like an intense fever that could make you hallucinate at any moment.

Never in your life has somebody kissed you like this before, with an intensity that makes all of your senses malfunction.

The kiss becomes more desperate as he pulls your body even closer. His touches makes your body give up as your legs begin trembling from dizziness, making him groan in satisfaction at the way you react to his strokes, and before your legs can actually give up on you and make you fall on the floor like an idiot, your own hands grip tightly on his arms for support.

When your limbs makes contact with his biceps, you realize just how fit Hawks actually is. The muscles under your palms feel hard and strong, you can almost feel every single movement as he flexes.

He pulls away soon after, smirking in satisfaction at the dizzy look on your face. You're panting heavily, eyes closing again and face flushing into a deeper shade of crimson than before, and that was only from his kisses.

The mere sight is enough for the growing tent in his pants to become harder, making your own eyes go wide at the realization of what the hard feeling against your leg actually is.

"H-Hawks...Wait...!" You can barely make a proper sentence, still high from everything going on. "I, We can't, you're..."

"I am...?" His teasing doesn't seem to stop. he too, is panting hard before kissing your cheek tenderly and slowly, slowly starts to kiss all the way down from the skin on your face all the way down to the jaw, eventually he reaches the junction between your neck and shoulder, where he starts nibbling softly.

Oh god, please don't leave a mark.

It takes all of your strength to push him away just a few inches. He's not even upset by the gesture, half lidded eyes staring at you intensely.

You finally catch your breath after a few minutes. Glaring at him with more embarrassment than anything else.

"You, are the teacher's assistant. Is it really okay for you to be doing this with a student?!"

All he does is give you a nonchalant look, followed by a smirk that leaves you frozen in place.

Is this guy really the same one that helped you out the other day? The same one that's always helping out everyone around campus with a smile on his face?

He touches your face affectionately once again, before answering your question.

"Yes, you're right, I am a teacher's assistant. But there's something you should know about it..." His eyes don't move from your swollen and bruised lips, with traces of sweet lip gloss slightly smeared on the side.

"Considering I don't have any power over the student's grades, there's really no problem for me to date one y'know?" Hawk's once again making direct eye contact with you, this time the lust in his eyes is more intense than before.

"Besides, be honest with me. You hate Miss Ito, and to be honest so do I."

You can't help blinking twice at his remark, nothing but silence fills the room.

"She may be a bright teacher, but the way she treats her students is unacceptable. That, and there's the fact she won't stop bothering me during free periods." He steps back slightly, pulling you by the wrists in the direction of the teacher's desk, right on the spot where he was sitting before.

"Wouldn't you like to get a bit of revenge on her? Just imagine, being fucked in the very same spot where she grades your exams..."

His words leave you thinking deeply, and you're so deep in thought about it you don't even realize what's going on for a second until you feel his strong arms lifting your body with ease.

You never thought you'd be doing something like this, but here you are, sitting over the desk where your teachers give their lessons, all while one of the hottest men in campus is about to do such depraved things to your body.

"So...What's it gonna be?" His hands are caressing your knees, rubbing circles on the tender skin as he anticipates an answer. If looks could kill his would have burned you a long time ago from the fiery passion behind it.

Your own hands grab on the sides of his face, pulling him closer into a sloppy but swift kiss before you look him in the eye once again.

"Just be gentle, alright...?" The look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. Hawk's eyes once again have a mischievous glint deep inside.

"I promise you, by the time we're done here," He kisses your jaw softly. "You'll never want someone to be 'gentle' with you again."

He leans forward for another kiss, and this time, you eagerly kiss him back, the hands resting on your knees pry them apart slowly, giving him enough space to stand in between them.

The heat of his body, along with that intoxicating cologne of his makes the experience even more satisfying, small moans escape your mouth as his hands go under your shirt to caress the skin underneath, his touch feels so...delightful on your skin, almost good enough to make you forget about all of your troubles and dive into an euphoria induced dream.

His hands stop at the clasp of your bra, meticulously unclasping the lingerie, you can feel the fabric becoming loose at the front, but he makes no movement to fully take off your top.

Instead his hands just leave their place at your back to pull both the top and the piece of lingerie until it's all ruffled over your neck, he pulls away from the kiss to look down, and it leaves you flustered when he won't stop staring at your bust with intensity.

"...What?" You ask with embarassment, and he can't help laughing at your reaction.

"Am I not allowed to enjoy the view?"

"Stop it Hawks!" He gives you a look full of authority, it makes your body tremble in arousal, the dampness between your legs is proof enough of the effect this guy has on your body.

"Stop calling me that, and start calling me Keigo."

"But I-"

"Would you prefer to call me 'Daddy' instead?"

You give him an incredulous look, face once again flushed by his words.

"Keigo you son of aaaahhhh-" The words die in your throat, replaced by a sharp intake of breath instantly after he engulfs one nipple with his mouth, causing another wave of shivers to shake your whole body to the core.

You try to fight them back, but the whimpers come out victorious and escape through your lips in a rush. It makes Hawks...No, Keigo, smirk victorious, but it's hard to take him serious when he has one of your boobs in his mouth.

He releases the wet bud with a small "pop!", and caress the tip with his index finger, the friction makes another whimper come out, once again making his smirk confidently.

"Look at you. We're just getting to the good part, and you're already a moaning, trembling mess." He looks down in between you legs with a hungry, predatory stare that could make anyone shrink before him.

"It's a good thing you choose to wear a skirt today."

A hand dips down under said piece of clothing, rubbing a damp spot underneath with their middle finger, right where your still clothed and damp slit throbs, craving more of the deliciously immoral graze.

Fuck...

You can't hold back anymore, and you don't want to either.

You're about to have sex in a classroom.

YOUR CLASSROOM.

"What is it princess?" Keigo growls in satisfaction, enjoying how you're finally starting to let those sweet moans out without a care in the world. "Something you'd like to say? Can't say I'm not enjoying seeing you fight back all those sweet moans."

Someone could walk in any minute now, Miss Ito could be walking in any moment as well, but nothing matters anymore.

All you want is for him to take your body however he pleases.

You pull on the collar of his shirt, pulling him into another sloppy and fervent kiss. He really like this new side of you. Always be wary of the quiet ones they say.

His hands sneaks inside the panties, two fingers going deep inside your velvet walls with a slow pace. The friction is so addicting, and you can't help it when your hips move against your will, craving for more.

"Keigo..." You're panting, eyes clouded with desire. "Please take me, I can't wait any longer!"

That's all he needed to hear. But just to make sure you'll enjoy every single moment...

"As much as I'd love to be inside you already." His fingers start picking up speed, you yelp in surprise at the sudden increase of his movements. "I want you enjoy every single part of this. After all, it's your first time, isn't it?"

Between the nerves of being caught and his ministrations you can barely think straight, but your brain still manages to process his words, and it leaves you surprised.

"How?" This time he gives you a tender smile before kissing your temples.

"The way you kept trembling when I got closer? How you kept hesitating? It was pretty obvious, princess." Your walls clench around his fingers, he could tell you're pretty close, so he pulls back his fingers, leaving you hot, bothered and whining at the sudden lack of friction. "But don't you worry a pretty little hair, I'll take good care of you."

His arms hook themselves under your thighs, pulling them forward until his clothed and still throbbing girth brushes against your soaked pussy. The friction feels so fucking good. You can barely wait to feel the rest of it.

"Oh! right!" His hand goes inside his back pocket, and pulls out a small, blue package.

"...Do you always carry one of those around with you?" You squint at him in suspiciousness, and he gives you a sheepish grin in response.

"Nah, the nurse gave me a handful of them as a joke." Keigo quickly unbuckles his jeans, and lowers them along with his boxers just enough for his hard cock to spring out, it's average in length, but it makes up for it with thickness. Its head is also a prominent, reddish shade, throbbing and dribbling with precum.

You couldn't take you eyes off from it, and Keigo couldn't say he didn't like the attention.

He decides to put on a show, putting on the condom at such a slow pace to tease you for a bit. Seeing you squirm due the lack of body contact almost makes him come right on the spot.

Good thing the little piece of latex already comes with lube, not that he'd need much judging by the mess you're making below.

"Are you ready?" He asks, pulling aside your panties and resting his member over your sweet core. As desperately as he wants to pound you into the wooden surface, he'd rather double check, make sure you're completely comfortable with everything about to happen.

And make the experience so good, that you'll eventually come back to him crawling, begging for more of his sinful courtesy. So he can gladly give everything you ask for.

You pull him closer again, wrapping your arms around him with shaky hands. It's not that you're scared, but the nerves are hard to get rid of when it comes to having your first time with someone you've been crushing on for months.

"Please, I want you." You throw those words back at him.

He nods in response, kissing your face with a softness that could make anyone melt, and slowly, so very slowly starts pushing himself inside you. Keigo can hear you whimpering, not used to such a foreign feeling just yet.

It's not painful, but it makes you feel so unusually full once he's completely buried inside you. He also starts growling, savoring the feeling of your walls stretching, creating the perfect spot that fits his throbbing cock in such a delicious ways, it's almost impossible to describe how good you feel.

But one thing's certain, he can't get enough of it.

"God, you're so fucking tight." His voice is so low and hoarse, it nearly makes him sound feral, like a predator about to devour his prey.

And you, were the prey.

"Ahhh...So good, it feels so good being inside my princess."

Your arms grab onto the back of his shirt, bodies plastered against each other so nicely, fitting together just like a puzzle.

Like you were meant for each other from the very beginning.

Keigo pecks you on the lips tenderly. Hips pulling back carefully until nothing but the head is left inside, and then he gives a deep thrust that nearly knocks your whole breath away. Neither of you are capable of holding back the noises, and you don't want to either.

For the first time since you started college, you're glad to be in one of the classrooms in the fourth floor, as far away from prying ears as possible.

"Keigo, oh my god." Your body finally begins to relax, and Keigo can feel it too. He's grateful your insides are finally getting used to having him inside you, otherwise he probably would have come already from the tight clutch of your sweet and slippery cunt.

The moment he feels you completely relaxed it's where the real action begins. He pulls your arms away from him and lays you down over the whole surface.

The palm of his hand plants itself besides your head, acting as a support, otherwise he probably would have fallen over you, too lost over the pleasure your body provides him. The other hand is busy holding on to your hips for dear life, digging his nails on the skin and leaving a painful yet addicting feeling behind, as well as a couple of marks on the bruised skin.

"Remember when I said you'd never want something 'gentle' after this?" He smirks, looking down at you with such dominance, you can't even process any type of thought that's not related to him anymore. "Well, I always keep my promises. Princess."

In the blink of an eye he starts thrusting so hard and fast that you can't help it when the moans start getting louder. Keigo moves with a pace so strong, so fast, and so passionate that rattles the whole desk. It makes your thoughts wander in place, imagining the loud slam that could probably be heard across a room should he be fucking you in bed.

"Hey..." A snap of his fingers brings you back to the present, and to a frowning blond. "Eyes on me princess, or is this too boring for you?"

He stops moving altogether, even despite your desperate whines at the sudden halt of his thrust, but Keigo's a persistent man, and a teasing little shit who adores making you squirm underneath him.

"Keigoooo!" You hips move on their own, trying to get some more of that delicious feeling of his cock against your velvet walls. It doesn't last for long though, as both of his hands have a unshakable hold on your sides, completely preventing you from grinding against him any longer.

"If you really want more..." His hands travels all the way down to your aching sex, rubbing a single digit against your clit and drawing out a high pitched moan. "Then beg for it...Tell me, just how much you really want it."

"I..." You can't even form a proper sentence, an endless stuttering from his finger rubbing harder against the small bud, preventing you from doing so.

You can't talk, you can barely think, but you need him.

"I want you...to fuck me harder. P-Please Keigo, I really, really need your c-cock!" That's all you can say, and that's all he needs to hear. Keigo begins moving again, this time at such a brutal pace that makes everything go white. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoes loudly all around the classroom, and the smell of sex engulfs the whole room.

"That's much better!" He growls, satisfied with the way your head falls back when he hits a certain spot. Keigo gives another harsh thrust, making you scream from how good it feels to have him ravish your body like this.

You're so caught up in the moment, drowning in ectasy from every push. Then you feel it, the way your insides twist from the upcoming orgasm as he begins rutting mercilessly, kissing your womb over and over again.

"Keigo!" There's something about the way you scream his name, that makes his length twitch as it slips back and forth inside your cunt. And his pace begins to waver once he feels his own climax approaching. "I'm coming...!"

"You're coming princess? You want to cum all over my cock?" He gives another sharp thrust, drawing out another moan from you. By this point he could guess your throat is more likely sore from how loud you're getting. And he adores it.

"Do it then," He gasps, head burying itself on your shoulder and biting down on the soft flesh, that is definitely going to leave a mark. "Come for me, make a mess all over this desk, so every time you're in class you'll never forget what happened here behind everyone's back!"

He knows the effect his words have on you, that grin on his face says it all as he watches your body convulsing, trembling as your very first orgasm shakes your senses. He follows after you almost immediately, utterly overwhelmed after the had clenching of your walls around him.

You're both feeling exhausted, attempting to calm your heavy breathing. During that brief period of time, you keep wondering if what happened would be just a one time thing. And once the both of you walked out of the room, Keigo would tell you to pretend nothing happened.

In a way, it makes a small aching dig it's way inside your heart.

"Hey princess, what's with the long face?" Keigo's face leaves its place on your shoulder, worried you might be regretting everything that happened just a minute ago. "I told you there would be no problem in getting involved with me."

"I know," Slowly your hands release their hold on his shirt, leaving behind a couple of wrinkled spots. "But this changes everything. Was this just a one time thing?"

"Oh, that's what you're worried about?" His questions comes out so casually it almost gives you whiplash from how fast you turn to look at him, brows raised high in confusion.

Once again he grabs your chin between his fingers. This time with a softer look in his eyes than when he first proposed this debauchery.

"I meant what I said before, I've never met someone like you before." He gives a soft peck to your jaw, lips lingering in place momentarily. His eyes are closed, deep in thought as he thinks carefully about his next words.

"The question is. Do you, want this to be a one time thing?" He's making eye contact with you again. "Or do you want this to go further?"

"I, want to get to know you better, Keigo." The answer is barely audible, but he manages to hear it, judging by the soft look he gives you.

"That's all I need to hear. Now, what do you say we get out of here? The janitor should be arriving any moment now, and honestly." He pulls out his already soft member, making you whimper slightly at the sudden emptiness. "I'd rather be the only one seeing you like this."

Quickly you both try fixing yourselves as much as you can. Thankfully you always carry a small package of napkins, and quickly clean up the dripping mess between your legs before fixing up your clothes.

As well as the dirty predicament on the desk, the janitor's not to blame for the consequences of Ito's attitude after all.

You both walk out of the classroom carefully. Thankfully Keigo didn't have anything pending, so nobody came looking for him during your little "chat". But if any of your friends happened to see this, you'd never hear the end of it from them.

..........

Just like Keigo predicts, the next time you walk inside the classroom everything that happened last Friday comes back. And when Miss Ito's lesson finally starts, you have to fight back the urge to give her that same mocking smile she gave you last time.

If that's not satisfying enough, then the moment the whole school witnesses her outrage after she makes another move on Hawks, just for the teacher's assistant to mention he's already seeing someone definitely is a sight nobody will ever forget. Particularly after she's finally called into the principal's office for her lack of professionalism.

The whole school ends up celebrating the event. And you definitely will celebrate once again after class, judging by the subtle looks Keigo sends your way after the ordeal.

Taglist: @bnhabookclub @gallickingun @hawks-senseis @honeytama @savagetrickster @unbreakableeiji @wakaoujisenhime

[heartshyuck]

Pairing: Haechan x reader

Genre: fluff, enemies to best friends to lovers, college au

Synopsis: he was the sun but you liked the moon more.

Word count: 6.3k (I know it's literally double the word limit 🥲)

Warnings: swearing

a/n: this is dedicated to @bl--ankhaeji, for the secret santa (@neoculturechristmas ), I hope you have a great holiday and a happy new year <3 sorry I made you wait forever!

Beautiful was the moon, the way she gracefully arose to the sky shining down on earth guiding those who travelled late at night. Accompanied by the stars, she outshone all those no matter how much she showed of herself in the night sky. In winter she ruled the skies with her reign lasting even when the sun would emerge, she would still look mesmerising and for that reason you loved winter. With the moon high above watching over you and the white specs of snow that gracefully fell, illuminated by white light; you walked through the empty campus back towards your dorm, it was pretty late but there were still a few passing bodies that relieved some of your building anxiety. 

Once you approached near, your fingers had already begun to numb, the tip of your nose kissed with frost and your toes frozen in place despite the many layers trying to keep you warm. Your hands shake slightly as you try to lift the key to the lock, hearing your struggles to open the door your roommate comes and saves you as he opens the door before you can. The warmth of the house engulfs you and it's like a pair arms have wrapped round you, protecting you from the harsh cold outside, instantly you begin to warm up. 

"Why do you insist on walking back in a blizzard" Jaemin rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he steps aside letting you in and closing the door behind you. "Literally just call me or Jeno and we'll pick you up" he whines, as always nagging and telling you off in the most loving way, and it only makes you smile, genuinely touched that he cares so much about you. 

"Because Jaems you both have lives and I don't want to be a hassle" you say as you rid yourself of your outside gear and then make your way to the living room, him following shortly behind you.  Jaemin and Jeno are both good friends, more like brothers or as you like to put it, guardian angels that the goddess of the moon sent to you upon your new dawn here at Neo University. From showing up when you needed an apartment to being there to remind you to eat when you were studying late into the night, you were indebted to them forever. "You could never be a hassle," Jaemin argues. 

"Who's a hassle?" Jeno walks into the room, food in hand and he chucks you both your favourite snack and again you're reminded how much they take care of you. "Me. I'm a hassle" you raise your arm, waving your hand a bit and Jeno sits beside you, covering himself and you in a blanket as he shoots you his famous eye smile, that reminds you of a crescent moon. 

"Last I checked you were a y/n, not a hassle" Jeno giggles, you and Jaemin both rolling your eyes at his incredibly bad jokes, though you're used to them by now. After a good few seconds of him still laughing at the horrible joke, he clears his throat "anyways Jaemin is right but if you don't wanna rely on us, how about you get a boyfriend" he raises his eyebrows.

"Well sorry to break it to you but there are no decent guys in this uni" Jeno pouts and Jaemin quickly chucks in a "hey we go here too" in protest, but you continue within the same breath, "all fuckboys who truly do not give a shit about anything but getting their dick wet" you huffed out in obvious built up annoyance directed to the male species. 

"What about Renjun? He's decent and you guys are good friends" Jeno asks "surely if you're friends, he has to be decent" 

"I saw Renjun in diapers, his mum's shown me pictures of him as a naked baby, I could never date him;he's literally my brother" you list off the reasons as to why you could never see Renjun in that way, you had known each other since before you could walk. 

"Maybe you should stop brother zoning guys then" Jaemin says under his breath in a pout and you send slit eyes his way and he smiles at you in return. 

"Okay what about Haechan" and as those words fall from Jeno's mouth, laughter erupts from Jaemin. Again you roll your eyes for what seems like the tenth time in this conversation, Jeno is visibly confused by both your reactions as his eyebrows furrow and nose scrunches up slightly. "What's so funny" this comment only makes Jaemin laugh more and you throw a pillow at him in hopes of shutting him the fuck up but it doesn't. "Best joke you've ever told" Jaemin says in between laughs "she hates Haechan's guts"

"I don't hate him" you snap back at him and Jeno's confused look turns into a surprised one "hates a strong word, i just dislike him" you explain yourself but Jeno's expression is dying for a better explanation "I find him insufferable and annoying as hell" 

"But why" Jeno says almost in a cry "he's nice, fun and honesty is the mood maker. He's great." Jaemin nods along showing that he agrees with Jeno 

"If he's so great, you date him" you roll your eyes and it's a childish comment but the topic of Lee Haechan and him in general brings that side of you out. "I think he's self absorbed, thinking he's the center of the universe and lights up everyone's world" Haechan calls himself the sun and honestly it's obnoxious but fitting you think. To all those around him he seems like the sun, but even the sun is insignificant amongst the millions of stars in the universe. He's just the center of a solar system that's amongst millions of others. He's nothing special but he thinks he is and it sums him up pretty well you think plus you've always liked the moon more anyways. "Also can we drop my depressing love life and watch a movie" you sigh, it’s not like you weren’t already thinking about you being incredibly single, you didn’t need these two idiots to remind you. 

"Yeah please, she's hopeless anyways" and again you throw another cushion at Jaemin, landing square on his face,”I’m not wrong” he cries out, hugging the pillow “you refuse to get a driver’s licence too” and you jab him in the ribs with you elbow causing his to yelp, again rolling your eyes. 

A few days past and much to your relief the topic of both, relationships and Haechan don’t come up again but it was silly of you to assume that God would be so kind to let it drop so easily. Of course Jeno had to bring it up the next time he saw Renjun, “So i was the only one who didn’t know y/n hates Hyuck” Jeno whines a little too loudly in the cafe you all were seated in. It’s a small place, right on campus, decorated with strings of fairy lights that give off a warm hue to the place; it’s open all day and it’s here you found Jeno and Jaemins want for a roommate poster on the notice board. “Jeno can you be quiet, anyone can overhear and like i said i don’t hate him” your voice dropped into a whisper as if it could undo any damage Jeno may have done and you spoke through gritted teeth. 

"It's not like he's here" he argued back and as if he had summoned him Lee freaking Haechan walks through the cafe doors. He strides in with confidence circling around him, dressed in his infamous playboy outfit, the leather jacket and black combat boots, he holds a smirk across his face as he scans the room; all eyes are on him as the bell that hung above the door announces his arrival as if royal blood coursed through his veins. In these moments you understand why Haechan believes he is the center of the universe because here everyone orbits him, everyone but you. Everyone stops and stares, their eyes lingering at each step he takes and each expression he makes. Their weary of his eyes, just in case they stop on theirs, everyone but you because you couldn't care any less. The sun is blinding and it's irritating and you'd much rather avoid it, as he steps closer towards your table; recognising the boys that accompany you, he smiles and waves in their direction, you get up to leave. "I need to go" you blurt out, pushing your chair out abruptly, it scrapes against the floor, the screech making you cringe. "I'm gonna be late for my next lesson" you clear your throat of any awkwardness and grab your things before any of them could question or comment on the situation, you rush past Haechan not giving him a second look. 

Jeno's eyes widen at the scene that had just unfolded in front of him, his mouth slightly gaping, Renjun sighs and rolls his eyes before giving a welcoming smile to Haechan who stands there confused whilst Jaemin simply continues to drink his coffee, firmly believing if he act like it didn't happen, then did it really happen. "Is y/n okay?" Haechan asks with genuine concern in his voice and in the same breath he continues to question the three, "is it me or does she always seem to leave when I arrive?" 

The three sit there in slight awkwardness that hangs in the air, it's not hard to answer this question, the simple answer would be a yes. Another simple answer would be to just shrug him off and tell him you have a lecture, a lie but still a rather simple answer and before the lie could leave Renjun's mouth, the truth slips out of Jeno's. "Yeah she absolutely hates you" Haechan's smile falters and Jaemin chokes on air.  

"What the fuck Jeno" Renjun gawked, jaw hanging, there's a heavy silence and it probably only lasted a few seconds but it felt like forever as everyone just stared at each other, only breaking when Jaemin laughs a little raising confusion amongst the three others who stare back at him. "Good joke Jeno, best one you've told" he places hand on Jeno's shoulder and kicks him under the table. Laughter erupts from both Jeno and Renjun as they try and attempt to cover up the damage. "Yeah y/n just has a lesson" Renjun laughs out and tries to emphasise this to Haechan who's now laughing but with obvious hesitation in it, awkwardness still sitting in the air. 

"Oh shit, I just forgot I had to meet up with Mark" Haechan waves to the boys as he leaves the cafe, a sigh leaves his mouth as he finally exits the cafe, his shoulders drop and a deep breath he didn't know he was holding left his lungs. He sees your figure still in the distance and he's not sure what takes over him but his legs being to move.  Faster and faster, Haechan runs towards your figure that only seems to be getting further, maybe it was his pride that was hurt or maybe it was curiosity as to why you hated him or maybe it was because Haechan liked a challenge. 

The heavy steps and heaving breaths catch up to you quickly, getting louder and louder you stop and turn back, Lee Haechan stands chest rising and falling rapidly bent down with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. "Haechan, what the hell are you doing?" He lifted his finger up indicating for you to give a minute for his lungs to catch up with his body, you roll your eyes and it’s action that doesn't go unnoticed as he begins to speak through his heaving breaths, struggling. “I heard you hate me” it’s breathy and deep but you make it out all the same, a wave or shock and slight embarrassment overtakes you, a heat rising up your neck and to your cheeks and you’re quick to shake your head, denying his allegations. “No. what? no i don’t-” you stammer over your words until you're cut off by Haechan, as always he’s the one that controls the conversation.

“Jeno told me” he clears his voice, finally have caught his breath, “by the look on renjun’s face and your reaction, he wasn’t lying” you grimace at his words “so I’m here to change your mind” Your mouth gapes as he stands there glowing in the white light that reflects off the snow, it angers you how beautiful he looks yet his ego is insufferable and too suffocating for you to focus on that. 

“Fuck you Lee Jeno” you mumble under your breath and haechan smirks at the comment, “honestly Haechan i don’t hate you” you begin to explain hoping you’ll get out of this, whatever this is. “I just don’t like you as much as others do and that’s normal”

“No it’s not” again your cut off and you’re pretty convinced he’s in love with the sound of his own voice with how many times it’s happened “you can’t hate me” and at this you scoff, eyes rolling back so far into your head you’re sure they’ll get stuck. 

“I have a lesson” you say turning on your heels, every conversation with Haechan is a reminder as to why you can’t stand him. He loves himself a little too much, he has a superiority complex that’s consistently being fed, he thinks he’s the epitome of perfection and he thinks he’s the sun, center of everyone’s universe. 

“What lesson, I’ll walk you there” he says as he follows your footsteps, prisoning you as he wraps his arm around yours, you're confused, shocked and baffled, legs stopping, as you look down at the junction where both your arms meet and you try to release yourself but his grip is too strong. “Come on, let’s go” he pulls you, not knowing where your lesson is. “You’re a history major right?” he keeps talking, not allowing you to even answer the question “so you must either be in building B or C, but since psych usually runs at this time in C, i guess your in B” again he doesn’t waste a second before pulling you towards the building he assumes is where your lesson is. You pull back, still in complete shock as to everything that’s going on, you just said you didn’t like him and by how quickly he was able to deduce where you next lesson is, you're pretty certain he knows you don't’ want to spend any time with him and of course he knows, the smirk is evident of that. He doesn’t care what you want, for his pride you must like him because the existence of your hatred itself is an imperfection of his, a cloud covering the sun. 

“Haechan just please leave me alone” it’s like you're speaking to a wall, completely ignored as he just navigates his way to your building, arm still interlinked with yours and every now and then when you try to pry your hand out, his grip tightens. “You’re hurting my arms” you deadpan and he turns back, loosening his grip and rubbing your arm. 

“Sorry” he laughs a little and smiles, you don’t know what it is but for the first time you’ve looked at Haechan and the irking feeling of wanting to punch his face isn’t there, his face looking a little less punchable. You shake your head, choosing not to believe the bubbling feelings of butterflies and warmth on your stomach as that smile replays in your head, again and again. You let him continue leading you to lecture, too tired to fight anymore. 

You don’t even notice when you’ve reached your destination blindly following Haechan, until he stops suddenly turning again as he flashes his brightest smile and it’s as if golden rays are dancing on your skin, lighting you up, sparking warmness in your chest. You’re flying too close to the sun. “We’re here” he says happily and finally releases your arm from his captive.

“Thanks” you mumble annoyed but not as annoyed as you thought you’d be, there was a warmth that comforted you, a woody musk that swirled around you placing you in a trance. Haechan glowed, ethereal he was with all his beauty on display and you realise if kept his mouth shut more often you probably would be just as in love as all the other girls but thank god he doesn’t have an off switch because you will not fall in love with Lee Haechan. The one who melts hearts and burns skin, everyone who’s got too close bursting into flames. 

“I’ll see you after your class” he waves turning back to the direction you just came from, your heart finally returning back to a normal pace the further Haechan walks away from you, the cold from the snow returning to your skin, finally your world has span on its axis away from the sun allowing the moon’s white light to cool you down and comfort you. 

Your lecture went on for about two hours, your eyes nearly closing towards the end as at this point not even caffeine isn’t getting you through these long days and you’re sure your lack of sleep is causing you to hallucinate, because there sat at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to building B stands Lee Haechan, Lee fucking Haechan. When he said see you after class you didn’t think he meant straight after class. Fear rises and you beg he doesn’t turn around. It’s fine you tell yourself, just don’t look in his direction and don’t draw any attention to yourself. You walk down the first couple of stairs, slowly thinking it’ll make you invisible or something and then comes the screams. Girls that flock past shouting Haechan’s names, he turns around and there he sees you, nose scrunched up as you cringe at the banshees and sigh in defeat as your attempt of an eclipse fails. 

Haechan waves at the girls as he walks up to you, snatching your folders out your arms he carries, “so where are we off to now?” he asks, grabbing your hands in his, your hands are cold, fingers frozen but his are warm, a never ending supply of heat emitting off of him. 

“I’m going to the library” you say, taking your hand out of his “no idea where you’re going to next” you smile at him, snatching your folder back. Haechan can’t help but smirk, he really loves a challenge.

“Oh wow what a coincidence, I was on my way there too” he smiles and takes your folders back out of your grasp, “so let me help you” you let a deep sigh out and close your eyes trying to regain some of your patience. You decide it’s best to not fight it, you walk past him letting him carry your folders and he runs to be by your side again catching your hand in his. You don’t know he’s playing but you allow it to happen, after spending two hours learning about medieval medicine, eyes closing slightly, you allow Haechan to warm up your hands. Some sun is good for you, right?

“So you just not gonna work” you look up from the book you’ve been staring at for the last thirty minutes, Haechan choosing your face to stare at instead, he only smiles at your word as he rests his head on his hand. 

“I am studying” he says with mock offence as if he’s been accused of something he hasn’t done, “I’m studying beauty” he smirks looking directly in your eyes and all though you roll them an unbearable heat still manages to rise up. “You hungry? we should take a break” 

“Why is my face boring you” you look down at the book, trying your best to stay focused but the universe really isn’t letting that happen today. For it places a giant burning ball of fire in your path, one that feels warm from a distance but once you instantly get too close you’ll combust, so you have to keep your distance not ready to give your heart up for anyone just yet. 

“No never” again in that sarcastic offended tone, that just irks you, seriously you’re impressed at your patience in not having punched him in the jaw by now. “But i thought you might be getting bored and studying History must make you hungry” 

“I’m not hungry, thanks” you cut him off, not looking up from your book hoping that the less interest you show, the quicker he gets bored. However, like you said, the universe is not allowing that to happen and your body betrays you for not feeding it earlier. Your stomach rumbles and it doesn’t help that the library is dead silent, the sound echoes and Haechan lets out a soft laugh.

“I think you are, don’t worry I’ll go get snacks” instantly getting up and heading towards the vending machine that awaits outside. This is it you think to yourself, this is your chance to escape his burning presence, finally be free and all you have to do is run out the door. Quickly you pack up your belongings, shoving everything into your bag before Haechan comes back and out the library door you ran, freeing yourself from his burning presence but not for long as he trails after you. As a kid you thought the Sun was following you as you would stare out the window of the moving car, thinking you were the center of the galaxy, only to find out you orbit the Sun instead but now as the sun trails after you, his legs speeding up to reach your side, you guess you are at the center of this galaxy. "Why do you keep running" he shouts as he tries his best to reach you

"Because you're insufferable, Lee Haechan" you shout back, still keeping up your fast pace, not taking a second to spare him a glance. 

"And you think you're not" he scoffs and sighs in disbelief, a sound that makes your skin crawl. “I hate to break it to you but you’re pretty annoying too” and the statement shoots straight to your heart, out of all people who was he to say that, causing your legs instinctively to turn; your fast and loud stomps directed straight at him.

“I’m the annoying one? Says the one who’s none stop bothering me for hurting his superiority complex. I’m sorry Haechan that you’re not as perfect as you thought you were, sorry that one person in this whole world doesn’t like you and I’m sorry you aren’t the center of my universe” you step closer and closer as you ramble about what about him just infuriates you and all Haechan can do is roll his eyes at you and even has the nerve to let out a small laugh that only seeps wrath further into your bloodstream, intoxicating you. Everything about Lee Haechan does that to you, his smirk, his attitude, his carved by the gods features and that damn smile. He’s a menace, the core of chaos and the true essence of calamity and yet somehow it’s exhilarating enough for you to crave his presence and it causes your skin to crawl, your eyes to roll. Too close and you’ll burn. “What’s so funny?” annoyance dripping of every word. 

“I just find it funny how you’ve placed me on a pedestal in your head of being perfect, superior and then decided to hate me because of it” he inches closer, heat radiating off his body , his lips so close to yours, you feel the words that next leave his mouth with each movement, his breath sending chills down your spine “the image of me in your head, isn’t my fucking problem” he steps back after finally being satisfied with how startled he’s left you, leaving you dazed as his words hit you hard. His warmth no longer there, you shiver yet his words still hang in the air as they plague your mind, repeating themselves again and again. He walks further away and you let him have the last say because you're sure he’ll be back, his pride won’t allow you to hate him for much longer, won’t allow you to block his rays of light. He’s right the way you perceive him isn’t his problem but that doesn’t mean he won’t go out of his way to change that and nor does it mean your perception of him is wrong, even if it’s just at surface level you know enough about Lee Haechan to predict his next move. He’ll be back. 

"Ugh" you scream out, letting out a deep sigh, eye's screwed shut as you let the snow fall on your face in hopes of letting it cool you down but then there's a burning on your wrist, fire swirling around you, sparks dancing on your skin and stars shoot through your bloodstream. You're pulled and pushed, swung around until your eyes land back on his, you should've known the sun never really disappears even when it sets, eyes burning red; anger, passion or lust you’re not quite sure but burning orbs are staring right at you. You don’t even have time to respond as both his hands reach up, gripping at the side of your face, holding tight as he crashes his lips onto yours. Your lips melted, his in a hurry as he harshly pressed against yours, passion overflowing in each rough movement, his warmth radiant and you welcome the burning sensation for once. Finally you move your lips against his. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing against each other occasionally, with his grip on your face tightening, you crumpling his shirt as you hold on as if you’d fall without support, his scent intoxicating and strong and you press your body further into his and it’s as if a knot has come undone. As if the air it’s self released a heavy sigh as it seems lighter and all fades away as you begin to float, lips moving in perfect unison until the last of the oxygen in your lungs is exchanged and the burning scorches your lung even after Haechan pulls away, with a heaving chest. “Try hating me with that” he huffs out, lips swollen and eyes glossy and again the sun sets. 

Again he leaves you stunned, holding on to your lips as you walk home in hopes that the warmth from them won’t leave just yet, the scene playing in your head over and over again as if it was the greatest blockbuster but a buzzing snaps you out of it and you flinch at the sudden noise. Your phone flashing bright with an unknown number, hesitantly you pick up. “Um hello” nerves evident in your voice

“I’m picking you up tomorrow at 5, be ready” and with that you roll your eyes, his voice still annoying your ears. “Also before you ask, Jeno gave me your number” he tells you as if he could hear your thoughts aloud.

“I’m gonna kill you Lee” you whisper under your breath and Haechan isn’t sure if it was directed at him or Jeno but he hopes it would be the latter and chooses to ignore it. 

“Anyways 5pm, okay” he repeated once again, asking for confirmation that you heard him.

“You really can’t just leave me alone, can you?” you whine in annoyance but Haechan finds it cute and it only pushes him more to continue bothering you. 

“And have you forget me and my handsome face, never could allow that now could we” he teases 

“Handsome? More like punchable, trust me i could never forget how much i want to just wipe that smirk off your face” you argue back, how could he even think you could forget him after that kiss. It’s all you could think about. 

Ignoring your comment, he continues “Yeah well 5 tomorrow, I’ll be waiting outside your place, dress warmly” he tells you for the third time and without even saying bye, hangs up. 

“Ugh stupid Lee Haechan” you kick some snow in your path as you continue to walk home. 

When you got home that evening you didn’t waste a second in trying to kill Jeno, trying would have turned into having killed Jeno if it wasn’t for Jaemin who had been there to hold you back. Yet that’s the last thing on your mind right now, now all you can think about is what to wear tomorrow. “Something warm” you keep repeating to yourself, mind wandering to where you'll be going instead of choosing something to wear and time flies past and before you know it, it’s already 5pm. Haechan is outside honking, being his usual obnoxious self, having no patience as usual. You run out the house, shoes not even on properly and quickly shooting Jeno a middle finger as he smirks watching you leave. He’s honking all the way until you sat down in the car. “You’re so annoying, you know that right” you tell him as you fasten your seatbelt. 

“Yes, you remind me every breathing moment” he rolls his eyes and starts driving, christmas songs playing. 

“Well if you weren’t so annoying every breathing moment, i wouldn’t have to remin-” your cut off by your own breath that gets stuck in your throat as you look down to find his hand holding onto yours that rests on your thigh and you see the smirk he holds on your face as he’s proud he managed to shut you up. “You were saying” he teases and you clear your throat as he laughs slightly. 

“Like I said annoying” you move your hand from under his yet it gets worse as he just rests his hand on your thigh, heat seeping through your jeans.

“You call it annoying, I call it charming” he turns to you as he pulls up at a red light, flashing you a beautiful smile causing you to scoff, crossing your legs, his hand drops off your thigh.

“Anyways where are we going?” ignoring his earlier comment, done with arguing for now. 

“Surprise” he tells you, taking your hand back in his, his grip loose and when you make no effort to move, an eternal smile is plastered on his face as his grip tightens. The music fills the car, you hum along to every song that plays. 

“Well then music major” you start up conversation again “how about you sing for me” you turn to him, hands still intertwined. Haechan only laughs at your request “hey I’m being serious, all the rumours that Lee Haechan is good looking, has a great sense of humour and can sing” 

“And you believe them?” he asks, still smiling.

“Well your jokes aren’t for me but humour differentiates, so prove you can sing”

“Ah, so you think I’m good looking” he comments, smile only growing bigger. 

“I didn’t say that” you scoff 

“Yeah and you didn’t say I wasn't” he retorts, smile turning into a smirk as he feeds his own ego. 

‘Are you gonna sing or what” you pull your hand out of his and instantly he pulls it back as he suddenly agrees to sing for you. 

“I sing like an angel hun, you’ll think you’re in heaven” he tells you again feeding into that forever growing ego of him 

“I’m sure i will” every word dripping in sarcasm as you roll your eyes. He wasn’t wrong though, you jaw hung ever so slightly as he sang along with Mariah Carey, compared to him she was nothing. The once vocal goddess outshined by Lee Haechan as his angelic voice drowned hers out. It was beautiful and he knew it, continuously he left you dazed. You were lost for words, you couldn't describe how beautiful it was and all that could leave your mouth in that moment was “wow” you let out a heavy breath.

“I know” he laughs at your reaction. The rest of the ride was silent, on your part at least as you focused on the moments Haechan would sing along with some of the songs, even his humming was pretty. He glew when he sang, shining brightest. 

Pulling up to the place, the light sparkles infinitely. Laughter rang through the air and there was warmth despite the snow that fell down. Your eyes lit up and for once being around Haechan didn't seem so bad. 

"The winter carnival it's my favourite. I come every year" Haechan tells you as he grabs your hand in his, leading you towards the entrance. 

"Oh and how many other girls have you brought here?" You tease him

"None" he turns to look at you and for once the fire that burns behind his eyes isn't blinding or intimidating, they sparkle. Instead of just the sun, a galaxy. You find yourself drawn into them, like a black hole he takes up all life around, light fading away until it's just you two by him. You move closer until you realise black holes destroy, the sun burns and you flinch backwards. 

You clear your throat before shooting him a smile that's well rehearsed "let's go" you say softly, gripping his hand and this time you take the lead. 

A few rides, hot chocolates and countless conversations, you find that Haechan isn't entirely what you thought he was. Yes he's confident, knows he's good looking and has swarms of girls after him but there's something about him that seems to balance it all yet you're not quite sure what it is but he doesn't allow you any moment to think anymore about it. Always dragging you from one stall to the next. 

"I'll win the big Teddy for you" he declares, chest puffed out and embarrassment strikes through you. You would have never imagined standing here, watching Lee Haechan trying to throw down all the pins to win you a Teddy bear. Everything feels so surreal, a warmth bubbles up inside you as you watch him, tongue slightly sticking out as concentration takes over and you can't help but smile. The sun's beauty, clear. He shoot a few times, each time turning to see your reaction, promising he'll get it the next one and when he finally knocks down every pin. He pulls you in his arms, happiness practically seeping out of him. You can feel his heart beat against his chest or was it yours you weren't sure. Pointing at one of the big blue teddys at the back he hands it over to you. You almost fool the sparkles in his eyes for adoration as he nears you again, a smile stretched along his face. "I told you I'd win it for you" he says, cocky as ever. 

"Thanks" you say so softly you're unsure if he heard but the smirk on his face says otherwise and thank god he couldn't hear nor feel your heartbeat as it fastened in pace, jumping and leaping against your ribs, answering to his voice. Your heart was ready to be his. That would've inflated his head a bit too much, and just when he couldn't do anything else to cause butterflies to burst, you watch as his eyes wander to a little girl, also trying to knock the pins down. 

"Do you need help?" He asks her softly as though she was made of glass, she only nodes in return but he picks her up, placing her on his shoulders so she had a better view. Her arms extend backwards as she throws the ball, knocking down all the pins. Haechan shouting words of praise and a smile lights up the little girl's face as she grabs onto a large teddy bear. 

"Thank you" she whispers, visibly shy once Haechan places her down and she hugs him. It was in this moment you could feel you were flying too close to the sun, heat rising, palms sweating and eyes sparkling as you watched him, the only source of light and the center of the universe.

Haechan begged you to go on one more ride with him before going home, the wind was harsher and the snow fell heavier and though the sun had set long ago, the moon’s reign seemed to be never ending. Your own sun was right by you, emitting light and heat endlessly, he held your hand and kept you close as you rode the ferris wheel to the top. The ride was silent most of the way, the occasional hum from Haechan as he stared out into the horizon, the dark sky filled with bright stars and the moon shining down, lights and Christmas decorations and a sfar as the eye could see white snow that illuminated under the moonlight.  Once you reached the top, he turned to you. Your breath hitching as beauty stood in front of you, a stone statue carved by the gods to show the ability of their power, a rival to the moon’s beauty, a rival to the sun light and warmth and a rival to billions of stars that envied the way he shined, forever burning. 

“So do you hate me now?” He asks a smirk always on that goddamn beautiful face of your and you can’t help but smile. Pulling him closer until he can feel your lips brush past his as you speak these next words. 

“Shut up, isn’t this where you kiss me” you crash your lips onto his and you can feel his heart stop, taken back by your actions yet he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back, lips moving in sync and you can feel his heat overtaking your body, your heart leaping. You’re flying too close to the sun, your wing’s melting and you’re falling. Falling in love with the sun. 

© (jisungiest) 2021. All Rights Reserved.

[randomfandomimagine]

Here With You (Barry Allen x Reader)

Character: Barry Allen

Fandom: Justice League (Snyder) / DC

Tags: Hurt / comfort, cuddling, fluff

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff

Word Count: 2,2k words

Summary: Y/N is having a bad day, but still doesn’t want to reach out. When Barry still appears at Y/N’s place, worried, they will realize it’s not so bad to need cheering up.

A/N: Apparently I’m not done fangirling about this cutie, so here’s another Barry Allen ficlet for you! Hope you like it! Remember to please reblog it and leave feedback if you like it, it would mean the world to me! 🙏💕

Barry Allen x Gender Neutral Reader

You were so tired and so on edge that everything bothered you. Even the background noise of the city outside your window seemed to hurt your sensitive ears and fuzzy mind.

Sneaking a quick glance to your phone, you considered making a call. You knew Barry would be there with you in a second, and that he would magically solve everything. Still, something kept you from calling him. You could deal with that day on your own.

If only you had the energies, you would get up and do something. There you were, feebly lying down on your bed and staring at the ceiling. No music, no TV, no phone, no nothing. All you wanted to do was lie there and dwell on your misery.

It had been a bad day. First your alarm didn’t work and you were late, then you ran out of hot water and couldn’t shower. And not only was your work day awful, but you also had tiny little things that only worsened your mood. You spilled your coffee, you had to stay late, you dropped your suitcase with all your paperwork that scattered on the ground, and on top of all people kept bumping into you as you walked home. It was a multitude of small things that became all too big.

A demanding knock on your door startled you in your loud silence. What now? Cautious as to who it could be, you apathetically sat up and waited. They knocked again.

“Y/N?” Came Barry’s familiar voice. “Are you in there?” 

A part of you wanted to ignore him, to pretend like you weren’t home so he would leave. You didn’t have the strength to face even him, everything overwhelmed you. But he sounded worried, and he was your best friend after all.

Tired and resigned, you stood up and dragged your feet as you walked to the front door. Barry kept on restlessly knocking.

“C’mon, Y/N, open the-” When you swung the door open, he showed you a smile. “There you are!”

“Hi, Barry…” You mumbled, letting the door open and idly moving to the  couch. You plopped down there, assuming he would follow in tow.

“Are you okay? You haven’t answered my calls”

“My phone’s on silent”

“O-kay…” Barry slowly sat by you, intently staring. “What’s wrong?” 

You sighed, hating that you were so transparent. Or that he knew you so damn well. Or both.

“I had a really bad day” You pouted, feeling like crying just at the thought of it. Why was it bothering you that much? Nothing catastrophic had happened.

“Wanna talk about it?” He kindly offered, but you shook your head.

“No…” You had to tightly press your lips together when a sudden urge to cry overwhelmed you. A sob was already reaching your throat.

“Oh, gosh, please don’t cry” Barry stared at you with wide eyes, fidgeting on his seat. “I-I mean, cry if you need to, but uh… it’s okay”

His hand fell on your shoulder, then gently lowering to your arm so he could comfortingly rub it up and down. You nodded your head, trying to tell yourself that he was right. It was okay, nothing you couldn’t handle.

“It’s okay, Y/N” He whispered. “You want a hug?”

A single rogue tear rolled down your cheek, but you grit your teeth. You refused to cry, especially not in front of Barry. His heartbroken look as he stared at you was enough to make you want to hold it in. Frustrated, you only wiped your face with your hand.  

“I’m…” You sighed, trying to control yourself. “I’m okay”

Not believing you, he kept staring. In an attempt to reassure him, you forced out a smile. Barry still didn’t seem convinced, but he knew you better than to try to insist.

“Great!” Barry said in the end, kindly patting your arm. “But you know what we gotta do now, right?” 

“What?” 

“Emergency movie night!”

“Barry…” You began to say, but he was already on his way. 

Now that he knew you were upset, nothing would stop him from doing everything in his power to cheer you up. Barry wouldn’t rest until he saw you smile. 

“Here you go” Your best friend sped through again, suddenly appearing next to you and dropping a bunch of DVDs on the table before disappearing again.

“Stop that!” You jumped to your feet and scolded him, barely managing to follow him with your gaze. “Don’t tire yourself, it’s not worth it!”

“Of course it’s worth it!” Barry appeared next to you again, bearing a playfully serious expression as he handed you something. “It’s my mission as your best friend to cheer you up” 

You rolled your eyes a little, fondly watching him as he went off again. Looking down to your arms, you saw that what he had given you were many bags of snacks. You absently put them on the table.

“Besides” Barry nudged you, standing next to you so suddenly that you wobbled a little. He was ready to hold you up.  “I can always raid your fridge after” 

You were suddenly fighting a smile. He had only been there for maybe a few minutes and he was already making things better. How could you not adore him?

“Okay” He returned, followed by the sweet smell of popcorn. “Now we have everything” 

In such a flamboyant way that you almost laughed, Barry tugged at your hand until you were sitting on the couch again. Then he put a blanket over your legs and placed the bowl of popcorn between the two of you as he joined you in the seat.

“But don’t hog the blanket” He made a funny face as he also covered his own legs with it so you were sharing it.

You heaved a sigh, resigned to letting him look after you. It wasn’t so bad after all, even if you weren’t as used to his blatant cares as he would like to. 

He pulled the first smile out of you when he picked up the remote and turned the movie on. Just with the music and the starting credits, you recognized it was your favorite movie. He knew you well.

“Oh, and the best part” Barry seriously peered at you, opening his arms. “Cuddles!”

You chuckled in spite of yourself, and his sudden grin in return was so bright that it could have light up the room by itself. Barry wiggled his arms still, suggestively raising his eyebrows too.

“Fine” You snuggled closer to him, getting comfortable against his chest. “You win, Allen” 

Barry smiled still, clearly satisfied with the result. He laid back, grabbed such a big handful of popcorn that many of them fell right out of his hand, and shoved the rest into his mouth. You shook your head at him, fondly watching. It was incredible how easily he made everything better.

“This movie’s really good!” He suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the screen. His voice was muffled by the enormous amount of popcorn still in his mouth.

“You’re a lost cause” You giggled, wondering if he realized how happy he made you.

Even as he chewed on the popcorn, he was smiling. Once he finally swallowed, he glanced at you and dedicated you an innocent grin.

“But you love me”

“How can’t I?”

“You’re smiling…”

“And whose fault is that?”

He didn’t say anything, only looked ahead to the screen. However, his satisfied smirk was telling enough. It warmed your heart to see he was so happy over seeing you smile. 

The silence suddenly felt comfortable as you both returned your glances to the movie. In reality, you weren’t even that interested in it. You knew the movie by heart, and taking in consideration that Barry was with you, you preferred to focus your attention on him.

Resting over him, feeling his arms fondly squeeze you, the stress started to melt away. The exhilarating feeling of coziness enveloped you, and you dearly treasured it. You absently reached out to grab one of the snacks that you had put on the table. Coincidentally, Barry was reaching out for the very same on. When your hands grazed, you both chuckled and looked at each other, stuttering apologies.

“S-Sorry, Y/N, go ahead”

“No, it’s fine… you can have it” 

You both paused for a moment, forgetting about the movie and the snacks and everything. The world itself seemed insignificant compared to the sudden beauty in his loving eyes, in his gentle expression. You gawked at him, wondering if he had been always this adorable. None of you said anything at first, only lingering in that position and staring at each other still.

Barry didn’t look away from you either as he picked up the wrapper and softly put it on your hand. His fingers lingered, gently brushing against yours. They were soft and warm.

“You… you don’t want it, Barry?”

“No, I know you like them…”

“Thank you”

“No problem, Y/N”

He gave you butterflies. The tender way in which he spoke, in which he looked at you, in which he said your name, how determined he had been to improve your day. Just… him. Barry Allen. You realized it was now hard to breathe, but in a surprisingly wonderful way.

“Uh… is that better?” He piped up in the end. “Are you comfortable?” 

“Y-Yeah” You blushed when you realized your head was leaning on his shoulder still as you looked up at him. “Thanks…. thanks for everything” 

Barry nodded and smiled, staring at you. He didn’t say anything about your head on his shoulder. You didn’t move, afraid that if he noticed he might say something. The last thing you wanted to do was move from that position.

His fingers brushed against yours some more, moving to be slowly placed in the spaces between yours. It was a nonchalant movement at first, mindless and familiar. Then it changed. Hesitant, asking a silent question. You brushed your fingertips against his in return.

Just then, something appeared in his eyes as they widened, a realization just like yours. This certainly wasn’t like your usual movie nights. You could nearly hear the missing beat of his heart before it continued racing.

Barry opened his mouth, ready to say something. The only thing he managed was awkward stutters. You smiled, knowing you would accomplish just as little if you tried to speak.

“I, um… oh!” He finally said, picking up the remote. “This is your favorite part” 

Your friend increased the volume of the movie. It came to your attention that it was quite advanced now, and it made you feel silly. Nonetheless, you wouldn’t change a thing. Everything was absolutely perfect.

As you two pretended to watch the movie, you started getting sleepy. The sudden exhaustion that washed over you was shadowed by immense comfort.

“So… do you, uh…” Barry uttered. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“About what?” 

“Your bad day”

“Oh, that…” Your eyes closed, and your free hand moved to rest against his chest. The other was still grazing against his. “It isn’t such a bad day anymore”

Maybe that was why you hadn’t called Barry before. You didn’t want to admit to yourself that you needed him. Yet there you were. Now that you were with him, needing him didn’t feel like such a bad thing. In fact, it felt right.

Barry’s chest moved under your palm as he took a deep breath. For a moment, you feared your touch was making him uncomfortable. Just when you were about to retrieve your hand, however, his free hand pressed against yours as well in a delicate gesture. 

You smiled and moved your hand up until it held on to his shoulder, allowing you to snuggle even closer against him. Barry chuckled, pressing your palm further into his chest.

“I’m glad I could make your day better, Y/N” Barry paused for several seconds, but you didn’t answer. “Y/N?”

When you still didn’t reply, he didn’t insist. Instead of it, Barry heaved a dreamy sigh. The sweet embrace of slumber was starting to take over you, and you couldn’t remember being so happy as you were in that moment. So much for a bad day.

Threatening to end your perfect tranquil, you felt Barry try to pick you up without stirring you. His hand gingerly snuck under your legs as he tried to gather your form in his arms.

“Mm... what are you doing?” You uttered, rubbing your cheek against his shoulder.

“I thought you fell asleep” He whispered, causing his voice to be barely audible over the background noise of the TV. “I was taking you to bed, it’ll be more comfortable”

You shook your head, nuzzling his chest and pressing further into him.

“No, it’s perfect” You groggily said, holding on to him. “It’s perfect, here with you”

“Aw” Barry let out a flustered chuckle. “Y-You’re gonna make me blush, Y/N”

Although sleepy, you made an effort to peer up at him. You felt slightly delirious both from the exhaustion and from how stupidly happy you were at that moment, but you still didn’t care when you started giggling. Barry was blushing, and smiling so wide that his cheeks had to hurt.

“Will you stay with me, Barry?”

“Of course, Y/N”

Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn / @wonderlandfandomkingdom / @locke-writes / @emmacata / @galactic-magick​ // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, send me an ask!! 

[buckysgoldenheart]

Hotel Room: August Walker x Reader

Summary: August, sick of you jumping from location to location trying to escape him, broke into your hotel room to interrogate you about you leaving him months earlier. 

Words: 2952

(First Person) (Both August x Y/N POVs)

**It is August, but in my head August isn’t evil, more just temporarily morally confused, so in this he’s an okay guy.**

Warnings/notes: angst, fluff, internal emotional thoughts (which always make me uncomfortable), mentions of sex. cursing somewhere.

****So the edit directly below was done by @eastwesthomeisbest for this story. I meant to add this to my story ages ago but something reminded me today, and i’m glad it did, because this edit made me so happy that I wanted to share it again. I love it so much! All of the edits made by @eastwesthomeisbest are freakin amazing!****

August POV

I would wait all night in this room if I had to, just to see her face and find the look I am horribly desperate to see in those eyes. The one I hope will reassure me of her feelings.

I want to believe that she can’t fool me; that I am as confident in her love as I seem to be, but she rules me in every way. If at any time, any single moment, anywhere, in front of the entire world, she told me to kneel before her, I would kneel like the begging puppy she doesn’t even know I am.

The silver knob of the door jiggles the slightest and a sudden fear bubbles up inside me that squashes my determined facade like a fly. What if she isn’t alone? What if she has some unworthy idiot she plans to take to her bed?

But no. Thank God.

Once on this side of the door, she closes it quietly behind her as if not to disturb anyone sleeping in the same hall and leans her forehead against the wood. She sighs, and I worry over that sound.

She doesn’t look up when she asks how long I have been in her room. She sighs again, and I worry again. I can feel her exhaustion from 10 feet away. It floats to me, hoping I might let some of the burden seep into me through my every pore just to relieve her. And if it were a physical possibility, I wouldn’t hesitate to take not just some of it, but all, until nothing weighed her down and she could straighten her spine for the first time in a while.

“Not long.” I say, pushing myself upright from my leaned position on the wall beside her.

She lifts her head and graces me with a glance. A tired glance, but something of a gift, nonetheless. “Get out. I’m in no mood.”

I cross my arms because they make my muscles bulge in a way that she could never resist. And I think that if that doesn’t get to her, well, at least it shows her I’m still strong, I’m still determined, despite how being around her always turns my brain to jelly. “I need to talk to you. That’s all I want.”

She would groan if she had the energy. I can tell by the way her lips thin when I say anything. “Then speak if you find it so absolutely necessary but make it quick, will you. And skip the part explaining how you found me again. I’m getting really tired of the whole ‘you’re not good at covering your tracks’ bit.”

I’m pushing her to the brink. She fakes nonchalance, but she’s irritated, at best. She’s the kind of irritated that has the ability to turn into something much worse over time, and I know if a baseball bat were nearby, mustering enough strength to beat me to a bloody pulp would not be as hard for her as I wish; but she has yet to kill me, so I say: “Fine. I am in love with you.”

She scoffs and puts her hands on her hips. My hips. They belong to me. They are for me to touch and grab and love. “So you have said, repeatedly. Is that it?”

“You are in love with me too, and I want you to come home.”

A beautiful, sarcastic chuckle sings in my ears. “Wow.”

“The truth is the truth.”

“I am not in love with you!”

“Yes, you are.”

She rolls her eyes, but all it does is lighten my heart. “You really are insane.”

“You love me. You do now, and you did when you somehow managed to pack up and leave in the middle of the night without me noticing. Which I still can’t figure out. Until that night, you couldn’t so much as shift in the bed beside me without me waking to make sure you were fine and safe.” I shake my head. I had replayed that night in my head too often for any sane man, and still couldn’t understand how she disappeared like a wraith. “But I woke up the next morning with you not next to me, because somehow you had slipped away without a trace.

“Apparently not, seeing as how you keep finding me wherever I go.”

“I told you a long time ago, I would always find you. If anything ever happened, I would protect my woman.”

“I’m not your—”

“I know you don’t want to believe it, because I was a bad guy who did some bad things; a bad guy you heard had done even worse things, unspeakable things, but this feeling is real despite that. Our connection…”

“We have no connection!” She yells before running her hands down her face. She is tired of this, but if I give up now, she will never allow the word ‘love’ to pass my lips in her presence again, if she even chose to speak to me.

“Y/N, I don’t want to be without you. I can’t stand another second without being able to have you, or hold you, or kiss you, or make love--”

“Stop it, August!” She snaps. “You live in fantasies and think just because you say things over and over that they eventually become truth and everyone around you will accept it as such.”

“We are not a fantasy! You and me, we are--”

“We are nothing!”

A quiver echoes around the room.

A crack in her shell.

Tears began to dribble down the soft cheeks I once kissed.

I move but she steps back with every inch I advance until the icy chill of the wall is flush against her back. And I see it: false hatred masking underlying fear in her eyes; a fear she has had since we met, a fear of loving me.

I brace an arm on the wall, my palm flat next to her face as my other moves to her body, down her arm, to the curve of her waist, to the silky soft flesh peeking from under her sweater for me to stroke with my thumb as the rest of my fingers firmly grip her hip. My hip.

“We are everything to each other…and you know it,” I say as I meet her eyes. They glisten, wet and shiny and beautiful in a way I hoped I would never be the cause of. Her teary gaze is unblinking, in utter disbelief that I was touching her again, that she was letting me touch her again.

“Don’t,” is all she whispers; one final plea as I firmly grasp the last brick of the wall she put up to keep me out and throw it away, out of sight where it could never be found again…I hope.

“August…” Another whisper.

“Y/N, I know I scared you and I know you heard a lot of bad things about me, but I would never hurt you, ever. And I’ll step away, I will, I promise I will, if you tell me to.” I never wanted to lie to her, but as the last of those words come out of my mouth, I know that is exactly what they are: A lie. I won’t ever step away.

I inch my head down to hers, my face closer to hers, my lips a hairs width away from hers, praying she won’t shove me away.

“Just tell me to.” I whisper against her lips.

But she doesn’t and so I press my lips to hers, taking her rosy, plump bottom one between my own.

She tastes the same. Too many months without this taste is like coming home after being at war and I savor every single generous second.

Then I feel it. A movement of her lips over mine, a small pressure that forces a moan from my throat, tingling both of our lips. I don’t waste another beat pulling her to me. Remembering this sensation of our bodies molded so perfectly together is intoxicating. I won’t, I can’t let her go. Not now. Not ever again.

 Y/N POV

I’m still.

So still.

I can’t move, and I tell myself it is only because he has trapped me; that my anger is strong enough to paralyze me; that he is abusing me, and I just see too much red to focus on that fact. I tell myself that the chill running down my spine is from the wall he has me up against.

He looks at me like he wants me. It’s the way he has always looked at me. Devouring. Begging. Desperate.

He is moving, somehow closer than he already is and my body reacts to him, sensing a familiar stinging heat though his skin has yet to touch mine. I can feel my heart’s uncontrollable excitement and I’m screaming for it to shut up, to stop beating for him, stop humming for him, just stop living if that’s what it takes for him to go away. But it won’t, or can’t, or just doesn’t want to. I have no idea anymore, but I can’t look away from the hand inching its way toward my arm.

If you touch me, I will kill you, I repeat over in my head.

But it, he, moves closer.

If you touch me, I will kill you.

And closer.

If you touch me…

He looks at me, right in the Y/E/C of my eyes and the air is sucked from my lungs.

…I will kill you.

Then he touches me.

His hand rests gently on my shoulder and skims down my arm over the fabric of my too-thin sweater. My waist feels it and my belly flops as he strokes the skin that hasn’t felt his touch in months. It sings for him, my skin. It cries in relief and thanks me for not shoving him away.

Finally, it moans.

I think this must stop, now. Break the contact. Don’t let him control you. You have fought so hard to become the woman you are, a woman who needs no one, and now is not the time to give in to this feeling, but it feels so good and he has only stroked a thumb, a simple thumb, along an insignificant amount of my skin.

I am numb to everything but the fire of his fingertips.

“Don’t.” What a pathetic whisper. A lie.

But his gaze is unwavering.

“August…” I cry his name in my head over and over, but once again, my mouth fails me and it comes out so quietly, so soft.

He tells me he will stop if I tell him to. But his face is so close, his lips are so close. I feel his puffs of breath stroke my skin and it warms me from head to toe.

He whispers something again, but the blood rushing in my ears doesn’t allow me to comprehend. I think I need to pull away.

Not now, my mind screams at me. Don’t be an idiot, it yells.

He kisses me and my brain shuts down. I only feel softness and slight pressure and a moan that tingles my lips, but I can’t tell who it came from.

The taste is the same. His taste is the same. It’s sweet with hints of whiskey he must have had recently and it shoves me back in time, into the body of the woman who let her guard down and was dumb enough to fall in love with a man like him. Then I move my lips, just my lips, and I’m pulled so close to him. I feel his muscles; firm ridges and valleys through his shirt against my stomach and breasts.

It’s too much and not enough.

My hands seem to rise on their own accord and slide to his arms, up to his shoulders; the opposite trail he had touched me with. He groans into our kiss as his arms hold me tighter than I thought possible.

By the time my fingers are resting on the back of his neck, pressing his lips harder to mine in the first greedy act I have taken, he’s hoisted me up. His hands grasp my bottom to secure me and I am forced to remember the last night we had together before I left.

Every feeling I had the last time I was on top of him, sinking down onto him, moving my hips in a way that made us practically weep from pleasure, swallows me whole. I remember the feel of his fingers as he grabbed my backside to keep me firm against him.

Imprints were left that night. Stinging from where he would roughly slap a cheek. Bite marks on my shoulders, my neck, my breasts, that didn’t disappear for days. He made sure to claim me in every way possible again and again.

And now he was back for me, my heart, my soul, my love. And he would not waste a single drop of the flood that was pouring out of me.

I plant my palms on the stubble of his jaw and tilt my head, parting my lips to give us the chance to deepen this kiss, and it allows him to slip his silky, soft tongue in to caress mine.

He turns us and walks to the large bed in the middle of the room, never breaking our kiss, before gently laying me down on the plush comforter and ripping his shirt off over his head.

He really is the same, I think. Everything is exactly the same. Perfect in every single way. Strong shoulders, and thick arms, and toned abs that lead down to a defined V that disappears under the waist of his pants. And he’s looking at me like I brought him back to life, just like he did for me before I ran.

“Come here.” I whisper, reaching out a hand for him to take; reassuring him that I want him, this, everything he has to offer me.

He gives me a tentative look and for once I see the vulnerability that being together can bring out in us. He’d perfected his craft of illusion long ago, but now I sense little of that mask.

August takes my hand in his and I tug lightly. He catches himself from falling completely on top of me and gently lowers his body onto mine in the most delightfully sensual way anyone could.

 August POV

She’s looking at me in a way that’s going to destroy me from the inside out; like I’ve hung the sun that only shines for her, and all I want is to see that look every minute of every day until I’ve memorized it so well I see it in my sleep.

‘Come here,’ she says, and reaches out her delicate hand. Fuck, I remember those hands on my body, and I’m almost not sure I can handle it again. If I have her now, I will need her forever, and it’s terrifying how much I want it.

But I take her hand and let her pull my body on top of hers, and I kiss her because I have to. Because if I don’t, I will lose my damn mind. It’s a horrifying feeling that only her lips can relieve, and I drink in every second that she lets me savor this; that she lets me kiss her top lip and then her bottom; lets me delicately bite one.

And when she moans, dear god, when she moans, my whole body tenses with desire for her. I want to wrap myself around her and run my hands through her silky, Y/H/C waves. I want to tear her sweater off and slip her pants down, until she is bare for me and me only, so I can show her just how in love with her I really am.

I want to feel every inch of her and rediscover every dimple in her flesh, every freckle, and every tiny mole that even she doesn’t know she has. Every scratch, every scar, and that section of stretch marks that I once ran my fingers along before trailing the length of them with kisses, I want only to be for me.

No one else, right? I want to ask her. There’s no other man but me, is there? Please let there be no one else. But she loops her arms around my neck and tugs me closer like she wants me to sink into her so we can just be one, and my mind momentarily flies out the window. Other men or not, from now on she is mine.

Then she pulls away and I’m afraid I’ve suddenly scared her, desperately wracking my brain for what I could’ve done in a matter of seconds. But she takes in a deep breath and her Y/E/C eyes meet mine as my name is lucky enough to be a sigh that passes through her plump lips.

“August…” She says again, and I close my eyes, dipping my forehead down to hers. I inhale and exhale. I would wait a million years for any words she would be willing to give me. “I do love you.”

And I was right.

She is going to destroy me.

------------

tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @debra77 @rebelliouscat @anise-d-castle6 @projectxhappiness @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @lowkeysebby @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @hiddles-rose​ @mywinterwolf​ @picapicapicassobaby​ @genius2050​ @lokilvrr​ @sunshine-seven​ @missjayi​ @agniavateira​ @tumblenewby 

[some-dr-writings]

Izuru, Gundham, and Kazuichi comfort their S/O after they break their arm

Izuru Kamakura:

·       “Just-” “No.” “It’ll only be a sec-” “No.” “Izuru.” You almost flopped onto the couch in frustration but Izuru deftly caught you. “You were going to crush your arm. “I… yeah…” Instead with a huff you sat on the couch. “but this sucks!” “You’re the one who told me to keep you from further injuring yourself.” “I know.” “And I did warn you to take caution when climbing the ladder.” “I know.” He pat you on the head once before exiting the room.

·       Once in the kitchen he tied back his hair before setting about cooking, which took a few minutes trying to hold back all those locks. When he finally set about cooking his mind wandered, seeing you flipping a pencil between your fingers. “No drawing.” “I’m not! I swear!” “Just reminding you.” You were so reckless for your art. You’d do just about anything to get the perfect angel for your landscape pictures. There had been multiple occasions where Izuru acted as your assistant, holding on to a rope, dangling you over a bridge or cliff as you hung from the end, drawing, not caring about the danger till some wind flew past, swinging you about, no longer in the perfect position. Your language became rather colorful in moments like that. Most everything was boring to Izuru, but you managed to capture his interest, mostly due to how you always dragged him around, forcing him into your antics. In all those times not once could he ever recall you asking him to look out for your safety, only now. You actually asked him to keep you from further injuring your arm so you could get back to your art.

·       Strange as it was, he found it… endearing. “Breakfast is ready.” Taking the sketchpad and pen from you he placed it aside, linking one of his arms with your uninjured one, leading you to the dinning room. “No.” “But-” “You asked for this.” With a sigh you began to eat, soon your mood lifting, humming in delight at those delectable treats.

·       With how chaotic your world was, being in this this kind of domestic setting, seeing you just… being here with him, it was somehow exciting.

·       Perhaps he could convince you to let him take care of you like this even after you heal. This was nice.

   Gundham Tanaka:

·       “My Emperor! You have need of fear no longer for I, the Overlord of Ice, Gundham Tanaka, shall heal thy wounds and lift the curse that plagues and warps your body!” Gundham was rather insistent on being by your side at all times. Having taken care of many creatures, he knew how to heal many kinds of injuries and he wanted to put that knowledge to good use for you.

·       With a light blush he’d do almost anything you ask, saying he’d act as your servant, making sure you didn’t lift a finger. Even if you were uncomfortable with this he’d still do it to an extent, making sure you didn’t place any strain on our arm, any off-hand remark you made about getting something or other such things similar in nature he’d take as a commend and lend his assistance.

·       “Gundham, you really don’t have too.” “Nonsense, it is my pleasure.” You sighed as you stepped aside, letting Gundham lean against the counter, reaching up to get that just out of reach mug. “My love, I appreciate all you’re doing for me, but it’s okay, I can still do things on my own.” “I realize that, I would never fall for one who could not.” With a light clink sound, he placed the mug on the counter. “Then why?” He looked to you for what seemed to be an oddly prolonged moment. “I…” He took a step towards you, his gaze shifting to your broken arm. “You are strong, you need help not, yet… I am still compelled. You are my soul’s mate, not matter how small or insignificant, I wish to alleviate your pain. Showing weakness often leads to death, the weak are prayed upon, especially so when it’s one of great power, others wishing to protect themselves by eliminating the greatest threat. We are much too powerful to be taken down in such a manner, but…” He looked you in the eyes, his sharp features seeming to soften. “You may show weakness with me. I suppose… I simply wish for you to know that. Know you can rely on me, even in simple times such as these.”

·       You smiled, taking a step closer closing the distance between the two of you. “You’re so sweet, you know that?” “Sw-SWEET!?” His entire face flushed a light pink as he pulled that scarf up over his face, looking away. His blush only darkened seeing how gentle your expression was, clearly too pleased seeing him so flustered. He much preferred showing his affection for you through action, but how you just so gently compliment him was always too much… even if he did absolutely adore it.

   Kazuichi Soda:

·       “You’re okay, right? How bad is it? What did the doctor say? How long will you have that cast on?” Initially, he was a bit panicked. He needed to know you were alright. He’d soon calm down though and generally act like nothing was different, just the occasional question about how you were feeling or if he could help with something, but not much else. Not being sure what he could do to help you, he simply just wanted to make things as normal as possible since he was sure you had enough things to worry about.

·       The incident did get him thinking though, what if something worse happened? What if you had lost your arm? No matter how much he’d try to act like nothing had changed, you’d still be hurt. How could he help you then? Try to cheer you up maybe, but would taking you on fun dates or riding on one of his motorbikes be enough? He doubted it. So… what could he do?

·       “Hey, Y/N! Come be my assistant, please.” “Huh, uh, sure?” You passed Soda tools as he tinkered away, working on something rather small. “What is that anyway? A new part for one of your bikes?” “A robot arm!” “A… a what?” He grinned that sharp toothed grin, determination flaring in his eyes as he explained away. “A cool robot arm just for you! That way, you’ll have nothing to worry about! Though it’s still a work in progress, and I’m still not sure how I’ll make it, I’ll find a way!” You lightly chuckled, leaning closer to him. “Silly, it’s only two weeks. I’m sure I’ll be fine till then but thank you.” You gently kissed his cheek, giggling as you pulled away seeing how Kazuichi’s eyes sparked in delight. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close and nuzzled his face into the nape of your neck. “I know, I know, but… You deserve the best in life, and I’m going to be the one to give it to you!” “But I already have the best. You’re so silly.” “Huh?” You hugged him, caressing his cheek as you kissed his forehead. “I have you.” He melted under your touch, holding you closer. “Then… want to take a break, cuddle on the couch and watch a movie?” “That sounds lovely, but anything with you is great. You can keep working.” Hugging you close he kept working, happy knowing this was indeed enough for you.

[hecksee]

3 Times The Cubs Struggled Alone, And 1 Time They Had Each Other

This is ficlet number two for the wonderful @kielemarie, means the fucking world to me, and I love her so much. She is the older sister I always wanted. Thank you Marie for always being there, and Happy Birthday! 

The characters, are, as always, from the amazing @lumosinlove. Go give Haz a follow! 

This ficlet is meant to show how mental shit can impact someone’s life and that is okay. People can still thrive with mental shit, and they can still be amazing people.  

Finn 

For the first time since he met Logan, Finn knew he wasn't going to see Logan anytime in the near future. And god he was worried. Worried about Logan, worried about Logan getting hurt, worried about what will happen when he stops repressing his feelings, just worried about Logan in general. And god, that's when he wasn't even thinking about his current season; rookie on Gryffindor Lions, his dream team. 

Finn was playing with some of the greats, Pascal Dumais, Kasey Winters, Sirius Black, and James Potter; to name a few. But the stress could be too much sometimes; the pressure on his shoulders during every game was never lifted. All Finn could think about was how he was some little kid's idol; how they were rooting for him. 

Normally, that was enough for him to get through the day without worrying about Tremz, but today was different; it was one of the days were he woke up on edge, where he was missing Lo so much that it hurt, where the only thing that was keeping him from calling was what had happened before he'd left. 

Practice had ended up making him miss Logan even more; the sound of pucks slapping on sticks reminded him of doing drills with Lo, doing their handshake before they went out onto the ice, all of their memories together came flooding back. 

And god he was even more worried about Lo than he was before. It all was too much, his chest was crushed underneath the weight of his worry; what if Logan slipped on the ice and fell, what if he got into a fight, what if something happened and Finn wasn’t there to stop it. What if he never spoke to Logan again and they ended on bad terms? Logan meant too much to lose him that way. And what if Logan got drafted, but to another team? He’d lose all contact.

 Finn’s head was filled with static, his thoughts were getting louder and faster, his heart was pounding, and his breaths were coming in short pants. In the back of his mind he vaguely registered Dumo skating over, but his mind was in too much distress to care. 

But then, as suddenly as it started,  everything stopped. His mind seemed as though it had been covered in a fog, his thoughts were still there but they were quiet and muted. Everything seemed fake, as if he was in a dream. The world was softer. He was gripping the side of the arena, with no recollection on how he had gotten there. 

Dumo was gripping his arm, waiting for a response to something. When it became evident that Finn didn’t know what was going on he repeated the question. “Harzy are you okay?” Finn knew he wasn’t going to leave without a response so he waved Dumo off with a mumbled ‘I’m fine’. 

Remus was waiting at the side door, opening it when Finn skated closer. “Come on, that looked nasty, let’s check you out.” Finn nodded and Remus ushered him into the PT room. Things were - for Finn at least, still moving slowly, as if he had just woken up but felt like he didn’t sleep at all. “That looked like a nasty panic attack you just had there. You feel fine now yeah?” Remus’ voice jolted Finn out of the slow reality, everything still looked like a dream, but he was less disoriented. 

“Yeah Loops, I’m just tired. Want to go home and take a nap” Finn sat down on a chair near Remus’ desk, waiting to be examined.

Remus nodded. “That’s understandable, panic attacks take a lot out of someone. How about you head home, eat and drink something, and get some rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

After a quick thank you and an even quicker cool down, Finn was driving home. On the drive he debated calling Logan, but decided against it. He didn’t even know if Logan wanted to speak with him. Finn knew talking to Lo would make him feel better, but he didn’t want to be a bother. Plus, they had left on bad terms, he didn’t want to make anything worse.

As soon Finn got home he dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and headed  towards the living room. Since calling Logan was out of the question he’d settle down and read. And there was only one book that would help him out of this disconnected state. 

Finn pulled a glossy new copy of The Song of Achilles from the shelf. His battered, annotated copy must have been forgotten at Harvard, even though he distinctly remembers putting it in a box. A part of him wishes that Lo took it out and kept it, to always have a part of Finn with him even when they were apart; like he did with Logan’s favorite snapback, but he knows that’s just wistful thinking. 

Finn quickly grabs a blanket and settles down on the couch, ready to lose himself to the familiar story of Achilles and Patroclus. 

Logan

Logan woke up to the harsh beeping of his morning alarm. It reminded him of Finn - which, to be fair, wasn’t difficult because Logan’s head was always filled with thoughts of the older boy. But the alarm was always a harsh call to reality. If Fish was there, Logan would be awoken by Finn’s soft shuffling as he tried to get ready for practice.

But Finn wasn’t there. He was off in Gryffindor, hundreds of miles away. Finn was off playing for the Lions, probably not thinking about Logan at all. It wouldn’t be fair to distract him from his dream.

Logan missed him so much. It physically hurt to be away from him. Oh how he wished he could just cover Finn in kisses. How he wanted to hold hands. Logan just wanted Finn to hold him and tell him that he was loved.

But Finn didn’t feel the same way; he couldn’t. Logan didn’t know what he would do if Finn felt the same. They’d have to hide their love, and that surely would end in disaster. They’d be kicked off the team, out of the league.

And hell, why would Finn even feel the same. Finn was a golden boy, perfect grades, tall, good at hockey, recruited by the best team in the league. Why would someone that perfect want him. Him, with average grades, who half the time can’t read the words on a page because the letters spun, who represses his feelings, who won’t let himself be happy. Why would Finn ever want someone as flawed as Logan. And even if Finn did want him Logan wouldn’t let him, he wouldn’t let Finn ruin his career over someone as insignificant as himself.

Logan knew he had practice, but he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. He didn’t have the energy to move from the warmth underneath his covers, let alone go to practice. He heard John rap on his door, yelling at him to get up for practice, but he didn’t have the strength to respond. He’ll tell the coach he didn’t feel well.

Logan knew that Finn was one of the few things that caused him happiness in this world, and with him gone, nothing seemed to matter. The days all bled together in a pattern of practice, eat, cry, sleep. Occasionally, when it hurt to even think about Finn, Logan would take a bottle of vodka to his room and drink himself silly before crying himself to sleep. He knew that Finn would hate what he’s doing to himself, but it doesn’t matter. Finn wasn’t there with him.

Tears were starting to fog Logan’s eyes as he reached for Finn’s battered copy of The Song of Achilles. He’d taken it to remember Finn by, knowing full well he may never seen Finn again. He opened it up just to see Finn’s handwriting, to remember the late nights they had shared where Finn would read this story aloud.

Logan’s face was wet with tears now, they were flowing freely down his cheeks. Regardless to that fact, Logan pressed his face into the pages of the book. He knew it wouldn’t smell like Finn anymore - it hadn’t in months, but it was worth looking for anyways. When it inevitably didn’t the sobs came. The heart wrenching, aching sobs that came from the bottom of his chest. The sobs that were making his grief known to the world. The sobs that showed just how much pain he was in. He didn’t know when they stopped, or how long they went on for, but after time they turned into small sniffles; and Logan fell into a restless sleep, still curled around Finn’s book.

Leo

There was nothing to do and that was gnawing at his senses. Normally it’s enough to re-tie his skates, tighten his gear, repeatedly drink his water, and turn his gloves in his hands, but today that didn’t seem like enough. The fact that he had nothing to do was making him want to rip his hair out. There was nothing to do and that was bringing his mood down to zero. Everything was not enough but simultaneously was too much.

The lights of the arena were too bright; the sound of the crowd seemed to be grating at his brain. Leo’s foot was moving without control, flicking up and down at high speed, seemingly unaware of the fact he had what essentially was a knife strapped onto his foot.

Leo’s mind was going into overdrive, his thoughts were going too fast for him to comprehend. He needed to get out, but he couldn’t, he had to be there, even if it pained him. He looked up at the scoreboard, but the glowing red numbers hurt his eyes and made the migraine that was already approaching intensify.

Leo closed his eyes and rubbed them with his palms, attempting to make all the light disappear and make the sound a little more bearable. But the noise was still grating at his senses, making his brain feel as though it was melting. The crowd cheering, the announcers commentating, the skates scraping against the ice, the sound of the puck hitting the sticks, and the chatter of his teammates on the bench was becoming too much for him to handle, if another sound was added to the mix he’d have to leave, consequences be damned. Leo squirted some water into his mouth, things always felt worse when he was dehydrated and the odds were he probably was.

But then Coach was calling him in, something about Kasey’s leg acting up again, and Leo knew he’d just have to put up with his senses being in overdrive for the rest of the game.

Together

Things get better after they get together. The bad days don’t disappear, they just become less frequent. Not by much; but by a little. When Finn got stressed about something Leo and Logan were there with words of encouragement and reassurance. How they’d always stay with him, they were going to be okay. When Logan had days where everything seemed hopeless and he didn’t want to get out of bed or when the letters on the page refused to stay still, Finn and Leo were there by his side; whether whispering sweet nothings, giving soft kisses, or just staying by him, reassuring him of their presence. When Leo’s senses were in overdrive and everything was too much Logan and Finn were there, keeping him company and trying to make everything more bearable. The bad days were still there, but now they had each other to lean on. 

[moon-in-daylight]

Emotions / Dhawan!Master x reader

Summary: Since you’ve been feeling a bit depressed lately, The Master decides to surprise you.

Words: 1846

Warnings: Depression and anxiety issues, The Master being a bit out of character for fluff purposes.

Human emotions are complicated.

Well, in The Master’s eyes they have always been pathetic more than anything, but since you started travelling in his TARDIS he had somewhat reconsidered that. Not that he had changed his mind about your species – he would never see the human kind as something other than the insignificant subspecies they certainly were –, but he did see you differently.

Not that he would admit that out loud, of course, but he always noticed those little things that made you be you. Like the spark of joy that appeared in your eyes whenever you visited a new, undiscovered planet, or the little smile that came to your face when his TARDIS appeared unannounced in your front door to take you an adventure.

Slowly, he had grown to not only enjoy, but also love spending time with you as you proved yourself to be the perfect companion for him. The both of you were an odd pair since you were complete opposites, but you had managed to build your own place both in his TARDIS and in his life by always staying by his side and spending most of your time with him.

That’s why he was the first one to notice your change of behavior.

Most people in your life didn’t realize you were feeling down, and to be honest, you didn’t want them to. You tried as hard as you possibly could to make them see that everything was okay, not wanting to worry anybody. Everyone in your social circle seemed to buy your little act when you told them with a fake smile that everything was okay... But not The Master.

He started to notice your bad mood when he couldn’t find any sign of the usual enthusiasm that characterized you. With no explanation, you appeared in his TARDIS one day and, though you tried to act as you would usually do, he couldn’t see any of those small gestures he loved about you. Because even though you tried your best to ignore your feelings and even lie to yourself about them, there were some things you just couldn’t pretend.

The Master would have done anything to cheer his human pet up… The only problem was, he wasn’t exactly an expert in the control of his own emotions, so he surely had no idea on how to address yours. And since you weren’t exactly open to talk about what was going on either, he thought the best was not to bother you with unsolicited questions that could come out as noisy. Giving the situation a second thought and thinking that maybe he was overreacting, he decided to leave you to deal with your human issues on your own, hoping that you would start feeling better soon.

But with the passing of weeks and your lack of improvement it came to his realization that something serious was happening to you. You barely spent time at his TARDIS anymore, and when you did, you hardly could pretend to be interested in the places he took you too, nor tried to convince him not to execute his evil agenda like you used to do.

You were physically there with him, but your mind was somewhere else… That was enough to break both of his hearts. Because if there was something that mattered in the universe to the Time Lord anymore, that was you. And he wasn’t willing to lose his pet.

Usually, he let you spend a few days on Earth so you could rest after each adventure and keep your otherwise normal human life. It was an unwritten rule you had established when you had started travelling in his time machine. And according to that rule, you would have never expected to find him waiting for you outside your workplace when he had dropped you on your planet earlier that morning.

“Master…” You shyly approached him with a forced smile, trying to put up the front you had been using lately. Little did you know The Master had perfected the technique of pretending to be fine long before you and that he could see right through you. “I just got back a few hours ago, you must have gotten the date wrong…”

“There’s something I want to show you.” He replied in a very serious tone, offering you his hand for you to take.

Your gaze switched between the hand that he was offering and the intense stare he had set on you. Truth was you wanted nothing but to go home, lay on your bed and try to sleep for as long as you physically could, but you simply couldn’t say no to him. Much less when he looked at you like that. Barely being able to hold his deep gaze, you took his hand in yours, no farther questions asked.

Interlocking your fingers with his, he guided you inside his TARDIS, only letting go of you to set the controls in the console, but still making sure of keeping you close. You watched him maneuvering the levers and buttons as your anxious mind anticipated all the possible scenarios.

If The Master had appeared out of the blue saying that he wanted to show you something, should you be worried? His surprises usually involved destroying empires and overthrow thrones. But he wouldn’t have gone looking for you just to show you that. What if something bad had happened? Well, you had already seen chaos in all of its forms while travelling with him, so what could be something bad in the eyes of The Master? You stayed silent as all the negatives thoughts rambled in your head, causing you to not notice when the time machine landed.

Your distracted eyes turned their attention back to the Time Lord when he grabbed your hand again with surprising tenderness.

“Do you trust me?” His voice was soft when he asked, softer than you had ever heard it before. You slowly nodded your head as he placed his other hand on the other side of your face and caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Good.”

The Master gave you a smile before walking you out of the TARDIS. You were terrified of what could be at the other side of those doors, but you kept your body close to him in an attempt to put yourself together and face whatever was waiting for you.

It was not that you didn’t trust him, you did it blindly. You were totally positive that he wasn’t going to hurt you, but you also knew who he was and that the fact that he would never harm you didn’t mean he wouldn’t harm anyone else. Your best guess? He was about to show you the ruins of a civilization he had pulverized with his bare hands during the few hours you had been apart, the first step to whatever plan he had developed now to get The Doctor’s attention. You sighed at the thought of it, not being in the mood for any of his usual chaos, nor for anything for that matter.

Without letting go of you, The Master opened his TARDIS’s doors to show you the most beautiful night sky you had seen in your life. Looking up, you could see thousands of colored shooting stars travelling through the universe, illuminating the darkness of the galaxy and decorating it in the most fascinating way. Every star changed their color every few seconds, and as they danced around each other over darkness, you felt as if you were watching a living painting creating itself.

“How can they…?” You muttered, completely caught in the beauty of the scenery in front of you. The Master smiled when he saw a hint of that spark of light in your eyes that he had been missing.

“It’s the atmosphere of this planet.” He explained, slightly squeezing your hand. “The gasses in the air are extremely toxic to all forms of life, but they create this visual effect at night.”

You stayed silent as The Master, taking advantage of the disguise his TARDIS had taken as O’s house, took you to the front porch and sat with you on the stairs. Your eyes were completely fixated on the sky above, examining every pattern the celestial bodies formed.

For the first time in a while, you didn’t feel that stress and emptiness inside of you. There was no rush, no need to be productive or fill any standards. You could stay there, looking at the sky for as long as you wanted to, with The Master by your side grabbing your hand. The breathtaking vision in front of you got blurry when tears started to form in your your eyes.

The Master’s hand only left yours to cup your face between his palms and wipe away the first tears that started to fall down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry…” Not being able to hold his stare, you looked down, feeling somewhat stupid. You must have seemed stupid to him, you thought. He was one of the most dangerous criminals in the whole universe, and you had the nerve to simply sit there and cry in front of him because of your little human insecurities. How dumb of you…

“Don’t be, love. It’s okay.” He reassured you before taking you in his arms to hug you. Feeling his embrace, you hid your face in the crook of his neck and cried your heart out as he gently rubbed your back and ran his fingers through your hair. You had been suppressing your emotions for so long that they came out as an especially bitter cry, but once that you let it all out, you felt calmed and relived. It was really comforting to finally accept how you were feeling, but it was almost as important to know that you weren’t alone. He waited for your breathing to cool down to speak again. “I…”

The Master wanted to tell you that he was there for you, that he would destroy entire galaxies to prevent anyone from hurting you. He knew it wasn’t going to be that easy for you to get better, that you would need some time to recover and feel like yourself again. But he wanted to help you and be by your side like you had been for him since you had met him.

He couldn’t find the words to express that, but there was no need. You already knew all that.

“Thank you, Master.” You mumbled as you let go of him, still trying to catch your breathe as you cleaned your face with the back of your hand. “I really needed this.”

“Anytime.” He answered, taking your hand in his again, observing you as looked at the sky once more. “And I mean it.”

You smiled slightly and took a deep breathe. It was relieving to see that he could be sweet sometimes, and that he cared about you enough to show it. After leaving a kiss on his cheek, you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I know you do.”

[i-stan-nct-and-satan]

Not Broken (Jaehyun Mafia AU pt 9)

Not Broken Masterlist 

Jaehyun X Reader

"You don't believe her, do you, boss?" Doyoung asked as soon as the door to the basement was closed.

Jaehyun ignored his underling's inquiry as he walked through the kitchen and into the dining room.

Taeyong was sitting at the table. He had been waiting for them, or more like on standby in case anything happened.

"Call everyone down," Jaehyun ordered his second in command.  

"We're having another meeting."

💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤

After the meeting had been called and everyone was gathered around the dining room table, Jaehyun motioned for Yuta to go over what had happened during the interrogation.

Yuta explained the events in chronological order, making sure not to leave out any details except for those regarding his boss's small outburst. He quoted Y/N's answers almost word for word.

Everybody at the table listened intently to Yuta, not wanting to miss anything.

When Yuta came close to telling his colleagues about the bizarre claim their prisoner made, he looked to his boss as if he were unsure if it was okay to tell them. Jaehyun merely nodded, giving him the go ahead to continue on with his retelling of the previous events.

"She was freaking out and suddenly she claimed that she killed Lucas," Yuta announced.

Everyone in the room except Jaehyun, Doyoung, and Winwin gasped. Many of them started asking questions. For a brief few seconds, everything seemed chaotic. The men kept talking over each other, directing their questions towards their boss, towards each other or even towards themselves. Anyone who would have entered the room at that moment would have surely felt the need to back away from the disorder.

"Shut up!" Jaehyun bellowed, causing all of his men to go silent.

Jaehyun looked back towards Yuta.

"Is there anything else you would like to add?"

Yuta nodded before continuing.

"I know that it seems like she was just saying that as a last-ditch effort to throw us off, but it felt different from that. It was like she was confessing it, not arguing it. She kept saying that she was sorry. Doyoung and I have done hundreds of interrogations over the years and it isn't uncommon for hostages to admit their actions when they know they're about to die."

"It's like a soldier's last confession," Doyoung added.

"Exactly. Not only that, but she seemed genuinely confused whenever we mentioned anything directly involving IU. It was like she thought we were interrogating her for something else entirely," Yuta finished.

Everyone at the table looked towards Jaehyun. His silent facade was as unreadable as ever.

Taeyong was the only one brave enough to speak after having previously been told to shut up only a few moments ago.

"What are your thoughts, boss?"

Jaehyun glanced at the red-haired. He seemed caught off guard by the question, but not because of its content. It was like Jaehyun had forgotten that there were other people in the room with him.

"We need more information before we can discuss the possibility that anything she's claiming is true. I haven't been able to come up with any ways that our interrogations methods up to this point could have guaranteed that she knew what we were interrogating her for. Of course, this is a normal interrogation tactic that allows the interrogators to trick the person into giving out details they might not have thought were important, but I'm not sure what to think," he spoke as though he were organizing his own thoughts.

"What are your orders, sir?" Johnny asked, having gained the confidence to speak since Taeyong wasn't scowled for his own vocalizations.

"Since Y/N is unlikely to feel comfortable around either one of us three, I want you and Winwin to get more information out of her,"

"Me and Winwin?" Johnny questioned.  

"Not to disrespect your orders, sir, but Winwin and I have no experience with interrogations."

"You won't be interrogating her. You'll be talking to her," Jaehyun explained.

Winwin remained unfazed, but Johnny's face continued to contort further and further into one of confusion.

"Since Winwin was the one to patch her up, I assume that she has some feeling of comfort associated with him."

"She'd be the only one," Mark scoffed under his breath, only to be harshly punched in each arm by both Yuta and Taeil.

"And you seem to get along with women for whatever reason, so I figure that you two are the most well suited for this assignment," the mafia boss concluded.

"I get along with women too. Shouldn't I join too?" Mark interjected, earning yet another punch from Yuta.

"Shut up," Yuta hissed at him.

"What do you want us to find out?" Winwin inquired, finally acknowledging his boss's orders.

"I want you to find out as much as you can about what happened between her and Lucas and I want you to record it so that we can find out if her story has any inconsistent. Do whatever you have to do to make her comfortable. As for the rest of you, I want you all to stay close. Don't expect this to be the last meeting we have today."

"Yes, sir."

🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚💚💚🖤🖤🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚

After Johnny and Winwin had left the room to get supplies for their mission and the others had wandered off, only Jaehyun and Taeyong remained seated at the table.

"Did we fuck up?" Taeyong asked.

"I don't know what you're implying, but I don't care about such an insignificant casualty."

"Jae, we usually don't involve civilians."

"She isn't a civilian. She's a part of this now."

"But even if she wasn't a part of IU's death, how is she supposed to go back to her life after this? We weren't exactly subtle about taking her."

"That isn't my concern. My concern, and what your concern should be, is killing each and every one of those bastards involved in the death of my sister, no matter what they have between their legs."

"Jae," Taeyong started.

"What?!" Jaehyun slammed his fist the table.  

"Fucking what, Tae?!"

Taeyong kept his gaze on Jaehyun, not letting himself become intimidated by his friend.

"I know that this is what we do, and that we need to carry out our retaliation in order to uphold our gang's image, but that's not going to bring your sister back and you know that."

Before his boss could retort, Taeyong kept going.

"You're hoping she was involved, aren't you?"  

Taeyong uttered the question more like a comment than a genuine inquiry

"What?"

"You want Y/N to be involved in IU's death, don't you?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't have ordered Johnny and Winwin to talk to her if I did," Jaehyun defended.

"You're not letting your feelings get in the way of handling the situation professionally and that's good, but-"

"But, what?" Jaehyun barked.

"I'm worried that you want her to be involved so that you can misdirect your anger on one of Lucas' henchman instead of the actual person behind it. Remember, Lucas is the enemy... that is... if he's alive."

Taeyong noticed as Jaehyun's fists began to tighten.

"I'm just trying to figure out when you started looking for the bad in people instead of the good. That's what used to separate you and IU from your father."

"And look where that got her."

"But look at where it got you, Jae. NCT 127 has grown so much since you've taken over. We've become stronger and it's because of you. Remember when your father told you that Mark would never amount to anything? Yet as soon as he died, you sent Mark over to train with the Dreamies and now you’re training him to eventually take over as the Dreamies' leader."

"He's still a blubbering buffoon," the pink-haired man countered.

"But he's grown so much from when he first joined NCT. You were the only one who saw his potential. Even I thought you were crazy to put any effort into taking him on as a member of NCT 127."

Jaehyun sighed, his anger morphing into exhaustion.

"I'm also concerned about if it would be better or worse if Lucas were alive," Taeyong mumbled under his breath.

Achoo!

Taeyong and Jaehyun looked at each other. Neither one of them had sneezed.

They turned towards the source of the noise, the curtains.

"I really need to start checking behind curtains before meetings," Jaehyun cursed at hmself.

"Jisung, Chenle, come out. Now," Jaehyun demanded.

The two boys sheepishly came out from behind the curtains.

"I'm not going to waste anymore of my breath disciplining you two today, now where is Jaemin?"

"He's a little tied up right now," Chenle answered pressing index his fingers together.

Jaehyun let out a deep sigh. He was not in the mood to deal with his kid brothers, not right now.

"You better not mean that literally," he warned the two.

"Uh... umm," the boys stuttered.

Now, it was Taeyong's turn to sigh.

"I'll take them to go find and possibly untie Jaemin," Taeyong offered.

"Thank you," Jaehyun replied as he waved for them to leave already.

Once they were out of sight, Jaehyun collapsed into his chair.

He had also wondered if it would be better for Lucas to be dead or not. On one hand, the man who murdered his sister would be gone, but on the other hand, if his murder wasn't caused by Nct 127, then it would reflect poorly on the gang itself, yet that wasn't what concerned Jaehyun.

I can't believe that I am actually hoping that Lucas is still alive. Jaehyun thought to himself.

But I just can't stand the idea that the man responsible for Ji-eun's death, won't die by my own hands, that I won't be able to watch him as the life slowly and painfully leaves his body.  

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The tears had stopped, or more like ran out. After an hour of sobbing, I had finally burnt through the little energy that I had left. I couldn't even muster up the energy to think about how I was still alive after having come so close to my demise. Wondering about the meaning behind Jaehyun's sudden exit would only lead to a spark of hope that would surely end up in a greater despair than I was already in. I had come to terms with the fact that I wouldn't survive Jaehyun's wrath, whether it would come today or tomorrow. Considering any possibility that I still had a chance was only being cruel to myself. All that was left to do was to stare at the walls and wait for everything to finally end.

This is where my mind was at. I had given up completely, so when I heard the door to the basement open, I couldn't put in the effort to look towards its source, to see who was surely here to put a bullet in my head.

"Hey there, sweetheart."  

I recognized the voice. It was Johnny’s.

Sweetheart? What does he think he's trying to do? Comfort me? If he was sent down here to finish me off, then why couldn't he just get it over with?

My eyes didn't waver from where they were currently fixed on the wall.

"We brought you something," Johnny continued.

Finding myself intrigued by the mention of "we,"I turned my head to face the two men. Winwin was coming towards me, Johnny walking beside him.

The two men were carrying bundles of blankets along with a variety of other items that I couldn't make out due to my swollen eyes.

Oh God. They're going to wrap the blankets over my dead body.

"How are you holding up?" Winwin asked.

Despite my preference of Winwin over the others, I still recognized that Winwin was a part of NCT, the group that had put me into this sorry state in the first place, so I stayed silent.

"Sorry. That was stupid question, wasn't it?" Winwin commented.

He turned to Johnny and grabbed something from him. It was a water bottle like the one that Yuta had earlier.

Winwin brought the bottle to my lips and tilted it slowly, allowing me to take sips at my own pace.

"That's it. ***** and slowly. Good." Winwin encouraged, his thick accent never failing to confuse me.

Despite my exhausted state of mind, I could tell that they weren't planning on killing me. I mean, why would they put in the effort to make sure that I was a well hydrated corpse? Yet for some reason, I wondered if the delayment of my death was something to be relieved about or if I just wanted to get it over with.

"Okay so here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna get you out of these chains and into some new clothes. Then we are ******. Understand?"

I simply glanced at Johnny, who quickly got the hint that I needed some translation.

"We're going to unbind you, give you new clothes, check your vitals, treat your wounds, and ask a few more questions, okay?"

I nodded slowly. I didn't know what any of this meant, but my mind was too far gone to fully dissect the meaning of their words.

Is there actually a chance that I’ll get out of here alive?

I kept still as Johnny and Winwin proceeded to free me from my binds. When they finished, I remained seated, not wanting to anger either of them by moving without their direct instruction.

They stared at me for a brief second before Winwin asked if I needed help getting up.

I slowly made an attempt to stand up only to wobble briefly before stumbling into Johnny's arms.

Normally, I imagine that I would had started blushing madly from the hold that Johnny had on me, but I was unable to care about how close our faces were. I was too dizzy to feel flustered. Black dots filling my vision.

He slowly lowered me onto the ground, the black dots finally starting to clear from my sight, but I was still in too much of an exhaustive state to take notice of what was going on.

Winwin mouthed words to me, but I was unable to decipher them.

After realizing that I was not going to answer, Winwin started to undress me.

I couldn't fight back, not that it mattered. It wasn't like I thought he was trying to take advantage of me.

Once I was dressed in a pair of velvety soft pajama pants and a new oversized sweater, this one neon green, Winwin returned the water bottle to my mouth.

"You must need the restroom," Winwin commented.

I hadn't noticed since my mind was preoccupied with so much these last 36 hours, but my bladder felt like it was about to burst despite my extremely limited water intake.

"There’s a bathroom in the corner, but I don't think that you'll be able to manage going on your own."

Winwin could see the panic in my eyes.

"Would you like me or Johnny to help you?"

Remembering that Both of the men had already seen me close to naked, I quickly gave in.

I managed to muster out the words, "You, please,"

Winwin's expression remained unchanged as he hoisted me up to my feet, supporting me while we walked towards the small powder room.

Winwin helped me to sit on the toilet, before immediately turning to look away. It felt like an eternity had passed before I finished. Winwin helped me up. Leaning on him for stability, I washed my hands. After drying them on a nearby washcloth, Winwin guided me back towards Johnny.

Winwin pulled out his first aid kit and started tending to my wounds from the previous day along with whatever new ones he found. Johnny simply watched as Winwin checked my vitals. Neither of them said more than a few words at a time. Most of their chatter consisted of Winwin explaining what he was doing and reporting my vitals to Johnny.

Once Winwin started packing up his first aid kit, Johnny went over to where he had placed the stuff they had brought in with them.

"Hungry?" Johnny inquired as he handed me a sandwich wrapped in Saran wrap.

I was starving.

As I unwrapped the sandwich, Johnny wrapped a blanket around my shoulders.

I was so desperate for food that I didn't realize that the sandwich was turkey until I had already scarfed half of it down.

Johnny promptly offered me another sandwich, which I accepted without thought.

They both watched as I inhaled the second sandwich at the same speed as I had done with the first. I must have looked like a starved animal enjoying its first taste of food after a long winter of hibernation.

Johnny leaned down so that he was sitting almost directly in front of me, still allowing Winwin enough space on the floor so that he could also sit down to face me.

"Okay, now I know that you've been through a lot," Johnny started.

"But ************** a little more from you," Winwin interjected.

"You can take as much time as you need. We know that your body is under a lot of stress right now, but we need you to tell us the truth. The whole truth."

"Your only hope of making things better for you is ******* much detail as you can. Lying will only ******** more pain than you've already experienced."

"The boss thinks that we.... might have jumped to conclusions about your relationship with Lucas, which is why we need you to clear up a few things. Do you understand?"

Your eyes switched between the two men as each of them continued each other's explanations.

You nodded in response.

"Good!" Johnny exclaimed as he took a black box out of his pocket. He pressed a button on the device revealing to you that it was an old fashion tape recorder.

"Let's start with the first time you met Lucas," Johnny instructed.

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I had told them everything I could remember, sparing no details out of fear that any forgotten tidbits would result in the most dire of consequences. I was terrified of how they would react to my retelling of the events that night, but I figured that following their orders was my best chance of preventing any further mutilation. If I was going to be killed, I didn’t want to give them any more reasons to make my death a painful one.

At first, speaking was difficult, but once the turkey sandwiches caused my blood sugar levels to stabilize, it got easier. I started my story by telling them about how I was in such a desperate state that night that I resorted to pick pocketing drunks in order to find cash for food. I told them about my failed attempt to steal from Lucas and about how he didn’t turn me in after catching me. I explained how he bought me food and then offered me a place to spend the night, a chance to shower, and a fresh change of clothes.

Johnny and Winwin listened intently, only interrupting to specify small details or to ask me to go into more detail.

When I told them about the drinks, I chose to leave out the details about the drugging until I got to the part where I found out about it myself. I noticed how their eyes widened in interest as I finally got to the... climax of the story. When I recollected the moment when I first encountered the dead body, I went into precise detail about what style of dress she was wearing, the signs of obvious mutilation, and the features of her face that were still recognizable. Johnny had leaned over to whisper something incomprehensible into Winwin’s ear. Winwin nodded in response.

The only event that I wasn’t completely honest about was the actual act itself. I told them what happened, but I didn’t tell them about Lucas’ speech about how worthless I was or about how I lost control. Instead I told them that I only grabbed the baijiu bottle as a last attempt to save myself and that I only hit him with it until he ceased his attack. I told them that I hadn’t meant to kill him, that it just happened.

I thought that I had ran out of tears, but I was mistaken. Tears began to make their way down my face as I told the two men about the single worst night of my life, at least it was up until last night.

I was surprised when Johnny offered me his handkerchief. Neither one of them seemed angry or upset. Instead, they seemed genuinely concerned about my wellbeing. They were probably the most sympathetic looks that I had received since arriving at that hell hole.

When I finally finished going over the last of the events from that night, Winwin asked if there was anything else I wanted to add.

I shook my head.

“No.”

Johnny stopped the tape recorder with the press of a button and stood up off of the floor.

“You did great, Y/N,” Winwin assured me in his most comforting voice as he too stood up.

“Now I’m sure the boss wouldn’t like hearing me ask this, but is there anything else we can get you before we turn this in?”

I didn’t know what to ask for.

Sensing my hesitance, Johnny spoke up again.

“Once we hand this over to the boss, I honestly don’t know what will happen next. You might not get this offer again.”

Realizing that this was my last chance, I made my request.

“Is there any chance that I could perhaps take a shower?”

Winwin turned his face towards Johnny’s. No words were exchanged, but I could tell that they were debating the “grantability" of my request.

Johnny turned back to look down at me.

“I don’t see why not,” he answered.

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“A shower?” Jaehyun questioned.

He and Taeyong were sitting at the dining room table when Johnny entered the room.

“Yes sir. I asked if she needed anything right after we finished taping her story. I think that it is in our best interest to keep her feeling comfortable in case we need to ask her any more details,” Johnny explained.

“Well it isn’t too unusual of a request after being tied up in a room for two days,” Taeyong added.

“About the tape, what do you think?” Jaehyun leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.

“Uh. I think it’ll be better if the tape speaks for itself,”

Jaehyun’s gaze remained fixed on Johnny for a a few seconds before he spoke up.

“Sure. Take her to the shower in the east wing. The one near IU’s old room. It doesn’t have any windows and the vent has been sealed off. Plus, it’s in the east wing where you won’t run into any of the other members.”

“Yes sir.”

“Oh, and one of you will need to be with her the entire time to make sure she doesn’t get up to anything. We still don’t know if she is connected to Lucas or not and I’m sure that he would have enough sense to teach his lackeys a few escape methods. Actually, make Winwin do it. He isn’t as emotionally inclined as you are, and we’ll want to hear your thoughts on her story.”

“Yes sir.”

“You may go now.”

Shortly after Johnny left the room, Jaehyun turned to Taeyong who already knew what his boss’s next orders would be.

“I guess we should rally everyone up.”

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Johnny poked his head in the doorway. He didn’t say anything, he merely gave us a thumbs up and jerked his head slightly towards the side indicating for us to follow.

Having regained my strength, I was able to walk without any assistance. The stairs were hard at first, but my legs quickly adapted to the task I had so easily done all my life. The journey to the bathroom felt exactly like that, a journey. The long hallways and winding staircases that I had witnessed at Lucas’ estate seemed like a walk through the driveway when compared to this labyrinth like manor and it was only the east wing according to Johnny.

“We tend to stay within the north wing,” Johnny explained, filling the silence as we traveled the never-ending halls.

“We don’t really come here since...” His voice trailed off.

Despite my curiosity, I chose not to inquire about Johnny’s sudden quietness. Making myself a nuisance would only bring more difficulties.

I was still so confused. For the last two days, no one had really given me any substantive explanation for what was going on or why. I only received demands or punishment.

“Here we are,” Winwin, who had been leading the way, stopped in front of a soft lavender painted door.

I looked up at the two men as if to ask permission to act.

“I’m going to head back to show everyone the tape. Winwin, you know what to do.”

Winwin gave Johnny a nod.

“I’ll see you soon, Y/N, hopefully under better circumstances.”

Realizing that I wasn’t going to respond, Johnny flashed a small smile before disappearing around a corner.

“You could have thanked him, you know. I wouldn’t ***** that much effort to grant a hostage’s request,” Winwin muttered under his breath.

“Thanked him?” I could feel the anger bubbling inside me.

I was getting too brave and I knew it, yet I didn’t stop myself.

“Thank him for what? For showing me basic human decency after you guys kidnapped me, tied me up, starved me, and beat me?” If I was any louder it would have been considered shouting.

Winwin’s lips shifted into a smirk catching me off guard and shutting me up.

He continued to stare at me with a sort of amusement.

“What?” I demanded.

“I’m just curious as to how a man who’s had countless assassination attempts against him fail, could have been accidentally killed by someone like you,” Winwin enunciated clearly, allowing me to fully understand the meaning of his words.

“Are you saying you don’t believe me?”

“No, I believe you. I don’t think the others will, but I believe you.”

“What makes you different?”

I hadn’t realized how intensely Winwin had been staring at me until now. I broke eye contact, letting out a small cough to ease the suffocating energy that filled the hallway.

“I mean what makes you believe me?”

Winwin who was still staring at me, suddenly avoided me gaze as he shrugged.

“Are you going to shower or not?”

That was a strange reaction. 

“Yeah,” I mumbled softly.

Winwin opened the door, but it led to a bedroom instead of a bathroom. I walked through the door as he held it open for me.

It was a woman’s room, or at least it appeared that it was. The décor was feminine yet mature, so it didn’t feel like a little girl’s room, but it was still trendy, signifying that whoever occupied this space was roughly around the same age as me. Our commonalities seemed to stop there. Besides the fact that I could never even dream of having a room this expensive looking, this room belonged to someone tidy. Everything was organized, the bed was made, the floor was absent of any unnecessary litter. The room almost gave off a ‘non-lived in’ feeling, like it hadn’t been used in a long time, which made sense since Johnny mentioned that the people rarely ever went into the east wing anymore.

“The bathroom is over here,” Winwin announced, pulling me from my thoughts.

I entered the bathroom and became immediately uncomfortable when Winwin followed.

“Wait. What are-”

“You didn’t think that the boss ****** let you take a shower ***** by yourself, did you?”

I was stunned by his words. I couldn’t have heard him right.

“I can’t turn around either, ****** makeshift weapon while I look away.”

Despite knowing very well that this man had already seen you in next to no clothing and not to mention. seen you urinating, you had to draw the line here.

“I’m not going to shower with you,” you asserted.

Winwin scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“I’m not going to get in the shower WITH you, dumb ass,” he barked.

“I’m just***** in this bathroom while you shower.”

I could see my cheeks turning red in the mirror’s reflection. I was embarrassed that I had jumped to such a lewd conclusion.

“You can take off your clothes behind the shower curtain if that makes you feel more comfortable. **** hand your ***** to me after you take them off,” he continued.

I continued to stare at him, feeling awkward.

Winwin let out a small sigh that sounded like it was more out of frustration than annoyance.

“Look, if ****** feel better, I’m not into women.”

“You’re gay?”

I didn’t know why I was suddenly so interested in the sexuality of one of my captors.

“I’m not exactly into guys either. It doesn’t matter. Are you going to shower or not?”

Instead of further probing him, I swiftly stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind me.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Home isn't a place, it's you // Arthur Fleck x Reader // angst turns to fluff.

Summary: Arthur makes a huge self-depreciating comment to you when you’ve both had a bad day and things escalate. He hides out in his bedroom to calm down, to deal with everything alone, and you have to try and get through to him. Can you do it?

Word count: 1, 994.

Arthur Fleck/Joker:  @writings-of-a-gen-z @x-avantgarde-x @mapreza1 @insomniabird @mavalenovaninagavi @itwasrealenough @morrisonmercurymalek  @rand0ms-fand0ms @rafaelina-casillas @aclownthing @rebs-doom @vivft @help-i-am-obssessed @autumnaffection @taintednihilist @vladtoly @mg-woolf99 @misstgrey92 @that-s-life @dopey-girl-blogs @seeking-dreamland @sweetheart-syndrome @heartxfdesire @xmusichealsthesoulx

Want to be added to the taglist? Please send an ask or a DM. 

You had thought that you had seen Arthur in every possible mood. Happy, sad, totally defeated, determined, upset, loved up… you had never seen him angry before. Annoyed, definitely. Frustrated, pissed off, yes and yes. But angry? No. You hadn’t thought your sweet Arthur was capable of such an emotion, least of all towards you. It was your fault, you supposed. He had had a bad day and you had had a bad day and you both needed something from the other that just wasn’t possible in your current moods; which came together in the tense, smoky room and made it seem as though electrical currents were rubbing through every available surface and going straight through your bodies. 

You fed off each other’s upset and discomfort, and the result had been Arthur gripping his raven locks in his thin fingers out of disbelief, his eyes wild as he looked at you. There was no love in his eyes as he looked at you in that moment. That realisation had cut you deeper than anything. He only felt negativity towards you as you raised your voices to each other in what was, admittedly, a very silly moment. Both of you just wanted to relax but here you were, starting to yell at each other. What a pair you made. 

You sighed deeply, turned your back to Arthur so you could just close your eyes and count to ten, pinching the bridge of your nose between your thumb and index finger. This was ridiculous. One, two, three, four... five  - you bit back a sudden wave of anger, focusing even harder on just calming down - six seven eight nine and - “Would you please just let me comfort you? You don’t have to do things alone all the time, Arthur!”

“I don’t want you to comfort me,” Arthur bit out his words, his anger finally exploding, changing and morphing into something all the more terrifying. “Oh, come on, I’m a comedian, Y/N!” You looked confused as he continued, not knowing what he was trying to say to you, and that made Arthur even angrier than he already was. He was positively livid, though now you understood that the anger was towards himself. “My life is the biggest joke of anything I could ever come up with!” 

Your stomach dropped and there was a horrible wrenching in your gut. You spoke before you were able to check your temper, so outraged were you by his audacity. “How fucking dare you speak about the man I love like that? Take it back.”

“No.” Arthur sounded like a petulant child who was aware that he had done something wrong, but he was being stubborn. The comment had been a little harsh, he supposed, but all he had were negative thoughts. How else was he supposed to feel? Couldn’t he talk to anyone now without there being a problem? He felt sick. He had to leave. His body ached and he just wanted to lay down with you and go to sleep. But instead, he had spoken without thinking and now you were going to leave him, too. Stupid, stupid, stupid -

“Take it back, Arthur. Now.” The callous way he referred to his own life and all that he was made you angrier than you could ever remember being. Tears, hot and salty, were pouring down your flushed cheeks. Neither of you could look at the other. Arthur’s words had done some real damage because you knew he thought it to be true. Seeing the resignation on your face and being unable to deal with your tears, Arthur emitted a painful groan which was immediately followed with the beginning hiccups of a horrific laughing fit. Without another word, Arthur buried his face in his arms, which he hurriedly crossed over his shoulders and sequestered himself away in the bedroom.

You stood there for some time simply staring at the place he had previously occupied and sat down to watch television, not caring what was on. You ended up pacing the living room floor. The carpet was already aged and far beyond needing to be replaced, so a few more holes in the worn material from your pent up energy and worry wouldn’t be noticed.

Minutes passed in tense silence, marked only by the breaking of your tried and tired heart. 

Half an hour. Time crawled passed without Arthur beside you.

An hour marked the end of your patience.

This was so stupid. You were both fully grown adults so why were you acting like children? Communication was imperative with Arthur, it always had been, so why were you enabling his bad behaviour? You were separated by far more than just paper thin, mouldy walls. There was a huge emotional rift with no real solution other than time and some vastly needed tender loving care. You hated it when this happened. You knew that Arthur hated it. But he couldn’t help himself.  You knew how damaged Arthur was, you had always known, and that had partly been why you had befriended him in the first place. That wasn’t, however, why you were with him. No... You were with him because from the urge to help had grown friendship and love. It had been a small seed planted in your mind from the very first time that Arthur had smiled at you, and you had watered and nurtured the seed until it had blossomed. You wanted to help him, to love him. You wouldn’t accept this any longer. He was going to let you help him, whether he wanted you to or not.

Laughter. It bounced off the walls and penetrated your inner ears. There was no hiding from this. You approached the bedroom door. Knocked. No answer. Your heart bled. You knocked again. Opened the door. Arthur was sat on the edge of the bed, his hand clasped to his throat. His face was bright red, veins popping in his forehead and neck as he struggled to breathe. He gagged on his laughter and it prompted you to act. Would your heart only get to break today?

You walked over to him, took his other hand in yours and squeezed. You weren’t angry anymore. Your bad day had faded into nothing, so insignificant was it compared to what was before you. “Ssh, ssh, I’ve got you.” You bent your head to press a kiss to Arthur’s forehead, “Just breathe, darling.”

His eyes, full of so much pain, flew to yours, and with a sudden show of strength did he grip your hand, his fingers shakily interlocking with yours. His laughter had stopped at your reassuring touch but Arthur was still hiccuping as he fought to get his breath back. Everything with Arthur was a fight today, it seemed. He was ferociously battling himself and all you could do was support him from the sidelines. Oh, but all you wanted to do was curl up beside him and go to sleep. 

He opened his mouth, tried to apologise, but you shook your head at him, a gentle smile on your face. Now wasn’t the time for words. Words meant next to nothing in this situation. Arthur was a man of action. Instead of saying he loved his mother, he would go out and work as hard as he possibly could to support her. Instead of promising you things, he worked even harder, thinking you wouldn’t notice, just to deliver on the promises he made to you inside his head. It did mean that sometimes he would mentally beat himself up if he couldn’t stick to his promises, but you didn’t need to know that. Arthur didn’t need words right now. He needed you.

“Come up onto the bed.” Arthur watched you cautiously as you moved away from him and sat down against the headboard. With tears in your eyes and the harsh yellow lamps giving the room just enough illumination to be able to see each other without straining your eyes, Arthur’s heart was in his throat as he scrambled to get to you. He lacked his usual finesse and it made you giggle quietly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Was muttered so quietly that you thought you had misheard Arthur. But the way his bottom lip was quivering slightly and the way his eyes were glued to your face waiting for the inevitable rejection told you that he had spoken. Again and again did you stay in the face of Arthur’s bad behaviour, and again and again were you able to peel back his masks, to see the true raw vulnerability underneath almost everything he said and did.

“I accept your apology, but, next time, could you just... just talk to me? Don’t shut me out, don’t shut me down, just let me help you.”

Arthur had been kneeling near you on the bed, but at your words he laid down beside you, curling his legs up so he was in the foetal position. You shifted until you were lying down and facing him. With your heads occupying the same pillow, it seemed only natural for you to lay an arm over his waist lazily, your fingers dipping under the thin and worn material of his shirt. You made a mental note to buy him some more clothes. Everything about Arthur, his personality, his surroundings, his possessions, were worn out, thin, beaten down. Gotham had taken this ray of sunshine and rejected him time and again, neglected him time and again, and before long... Before long, there would be no Arthur Fleck to come home to every night. Whether by another’s hand or his own, he would eventually give in to his negativity. He was only human, and humans are fragile creatures.This wasn’t the first occasion in which you had found yourself wondering how much time you really had with Arthur. He was a fighter, this was true, but were you enough to keep him fighting?

In response to your touch, Arthur laid a hand on your cheek, his thumb stroking your face. The look of total love and adoration that you had so missed today was back in his eyes and it made you smile, your own gaze softening. He was forgiven. He would have been forgiven even if he hadn’t apologised. There was nothing he could do that would turn you away from him. You wondered if Arthur knew the depth of devotion that you felt towards him. You’d die for him, and he would do the same for you.

“I don’t deserve you.” Almost whispering, his voice was so soft, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. There was nothing you could say to tell him otherwise. Only actions would show him the truth. Arthur lay without moving for a few seconds while his abused brain caught up with what was happening, and then the fingers still stroking your hair stilled and he gave in to your affections, kissing you with such desperate passion that the heat within the room rose quickly. You weren’t in the mood for sex, though, you just wanted to cuddle. Indeed, Arthur pulled back as he realised the same thing, and instead he rolled you over onto your back so that he could bury his face in your chest, his legs entangling with yours. This was his favourite way to cuddle. His head moved here and there, nuzzling, searching for that one noise under his ear which made the entire world still.

Your heartbeat.

It didn’t take him long to find it, and it was with a weary yet relieved sigh that Arthur allowed his eyes to close, his arms tightening around you. You held him, your fingers in his hair, and together you found the puzzle piece of the day that had been missing.

The morning would bring new challenges. In the present, however, you had each earned your rest in the arms of the one you loved most.

[khiphop-stories]

Getting Off The Wrong Foot

[Christian Yu | Chapter IX ]

Previous Chapters:

Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V | Chapter VI | Chapter VII | Chapter VIII

Of course it was only a matter of time Kiseok would seek you out. It wasn’t like him to stay quiet and act like he didn’t know you. No, he had to make sure you knew he was there as well.

“Minho called me yesterday. Apparently you haven’t told your family that we broke up. I wonder why.”

No ‘hello’, no unnecessary small talk, no - Kiseok aimed straight for humiliation.

Minho was your younger brother. He always got along well with Kiseok who would treat him like his own little brother. Kiseok would take him backstage and let him meet his favorite rappers. He admired Kiseok a lot and always looked up to him. At one point he even wanted to be a rapper just like him. But you asked Kiseok to talk it out of him. You knew the industry too well and you didn’t want your baby brother to be any part of it. Luckily it worked and he went to go to college instead.

“What would he think when he finds out his big sister is sleeping around?“

“Leave him out of it“ you hissed at him with a warning glare. Kiseok knew better than to mess with your family, especially your brother. He didn’t have it easy growing up. He was bullied a lot in middle and high school and you had failed to protect him. Living on a different continent you didn’t know what was happening, you only found out after he had graduated. You never really forgave yourself for that. Kiseok knew, he knew all of it, yet he chose to make him a subject of this conversation.

“You’re the one lying to him, not me,“ he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“What. Do. You. Want?“ You sharply demanded him to get to the point emphasizing every word. You weren’t in the mood to argue, especially not here in front of everyone.

“Is he bigger than me?“ Kiseok taunted you with a smug smirk planted on his face. He had changed the topic out of nowhere, catching you off guard.

“Excuse me?“ Your eyes widened at him in disbelief, daring him to repeat the question he had just asked you. Of course he would behave like this. Letting you move on in peace was just not an option for him. You didn’t expect anything else from him, but as a public figure he should know the time and place to start fights. This was not it. You were in the middle of the newly opened store, surrounded by dozens of people.

“Is the sex better with him?  Because I seriously doubt that. Nobody knows you like I do,“ he whispered into your ear.

“Grow up, Kiseok,“ you rolled your eyes at him and let out a brief chortle. You pushed him away from you and took a step back to increase the distance. No, not this time. You wouldn’t let him get to you this time. You weren’t going to play this stupid game of his. You turned away from him, intending to walk away from this conversation, but the thing he said next felt like he had pierced a knife right through your chest.

“I knew you were insecure. I didn’t know you had that little self respect.“

“Hurting me once wasn’t enough, huh? Now you have to insult me in public too?“ You raised your voice at him as the anger boiled up inside of you.

“Just saying you could do better.“ “Jealous that I moved on?“

“Oh please, we both know he’s just a rebound. He just using you for sex and you think he actually cares about you.“

“Well, at least now I don’t have to fake it,“ you retorted callously, knowing this would hurt his ego and make him feel insignificant. It was stupid and childish, but you wanted to win this fight that he had started.

“You’re lying to yourself if you actually think he could replace me.“

“I’m not trying to replace you, Kiseok. I’m so glad you’re out of my life. That’s the best thing that ever happened to me,“ you told him followed by a dry chuckle. You had dated him for long enough to know that he was only trying to provoke a reaction from of you, because he wanted to talk to you and the only way you would talk to him was for him to behave like a huge dick. You knew he probably didn’t mean what he was saying. But you were tired of it. Tired of having to consider his feelings, when he stepped on yours time and time again. No, you wanted your words to hurt the same way he had hurt you.

“People used to respect you when you were with me, now you’re just Christian’s hoe.“

“Fuck you, Kiseok. Seriously fuck you!“ You cursed at him, unconsciously raising your voice which had attracted the eyes of some spectators around you. But in that moment, you didn’t care that you were in a room full of people. You were just sick of it all, sick of having to endure this pain and sick of having to stand here while he was disrespecting you. “Ok, guys stop it now. People are already staring,“ Ju Kyung quickly got in between you and Kiseok, before you could hurt him physically which you certainly would have done. You were just seconds away from slapping him across the face. Ju Kyung held Kiseok by his shoulders, pushing him back while Jay stood in front of you, blocking both your way and your view. If people weren’t gawking at you earlier, they definitely were now. The four of you were probably the centre of attention right now. Jay stretched out his arm, gently wrapping it around you as he tried to push you a few steps back.

“Don’t butt into this,“ you gritted through your teeth, giving Jay a death glare.

“I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing this for you,“ Jay made you look at him, his voice remained calm and gentle. “Don’t give them something to gossip about.”

Your eyes wandered around the room as you swallowed down hard. The people in the room were already whispering to each other and you could feel their scrutinising gazes piercing right through you. Jay was right. You couldn’t lose it now, not here where everybody was waiting for something to happen so they  had something interesting to talk about.

“Fine,“ you let out a breath in defeat, trying to calm yourself down, to suppress the emotions that were gaining the upper hand of your actions. Without another word you turned your heels around and walked towards the backstage area where only selected staff members and artists had access to. Jay followed closely behind, as though he was too afraid to leave you out of sight. He quickly turned his head to Ju Kyung who was still attempting to get Kiseok under control and motioned him to take his label-mate home.

“Do you want something to drink?“ Jay asked you in a concerned tone when you had disappeared from the prying eyes. He didn’t know what else to say in this situation. You were a seething volcano on the brink of exploding. He couldn’t risking saying something to set you off. “Do they have vodka?“ You replied sarcastically, gaining a low chuckle from Jay.

“Are you ok?“ He then asked you in a serious tone, his eyes laying gently on you.

“I knew this wasn’t gonna be easy. But I really thought he would at least have that much respect for what we had that he wouldn’t cause a scene in public.”

“You know he didn’t mean it. He’s just hurt.“ “Stop defending him, Jay,“ you shook your head at him in disbelief. You just couldn’t fathom why everybody was treating Kiseok with kid gloves as though he was on the verge of shattering when he was the reason things turned out the way they had in the first place.

“In what world is his behaviour acceptable? He’s hurt? Well, he should be! He threw away everything we had! Why do I always have to be considerate towards his feelings? What about my feelings? He fucked someone else while he was with me and lied to me every single day.”

“I know you’re angry and hurt, Min. You have every right to be. I’m just saying that he’s made mistakes, but he’s not a bad person.” “And I am? For choosing myself over him for the first time? For standing up for myself?“ Fires of fury and hatred were smouldering in your small narrowed eyes as you shouted at him. “I didn’t say that,” he immediately denied. “That’s practically what you’re saying, Jay. You’re always shielding him and making me feel like my emotions are unjustified. That what I’m feeling is wrong.“

“That’s not what I mean, Minhee. Kiseok’s just been miserable since you’ve broken up with him.“ “Then stop. Stop excusing his behaviour. I’m angry too. I’ve been miserable too. I’m hurt too. I never loved someone like I loved him and he broke my heart. But I don’t go around insulting and embarrassing him in front everyone!“ “You slept with Christian,” he pointed out as though you sleeping with someone else was even comparable to the things that Kiseok had done to you. “Wow, now you’re slut shaming me too?“ You scoffed at him in disbelief, your eyes widening at him.

“No, Minhee, I’m not judging you or your decisions. It’s just…you knew how much this would hurt him. And you chose Christian out of every guy there is. You did it to get back at him.“

“What’s wrong about Christian?“ You raised your brows at him. “He doesn’t have the best reputation…Kiseok had already felt insecure when you worked with him for the first time a year ago. And you also know what he did to Ashley.“ “Oh okay, that’s what this it about,” you nodded your head, finally understanding. “This isn’t about Kiseok, but your feelings. You’re mad at me because I’m screwing someone who slept with Ashely? Then fucking say it, Jay. Don’t hide behind Kiseok, don’t use him as an excuse. If you have a problem with that, just say it.“

Jay remained silent, his gaze immediately dropping down on the floor. “It’s not like that,” he muttered under his breath.”

“Jay, you know I care about you. I don’t care if Kiseok has a problem with Christian and if I hurt his feelings by sleeping with him. But if I hurt yours…that’s a different story. No sex is that good, that I would risk our friendship.“

“It’s really not like that,” he shook his head again.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m just scared that you might get hurt again. He’s hurt someone I love once, I don’t want him to do it again.”

~*~

It certainly wasn’t the smartest decision to go outside dressed in only pants, a t-shirt and a thin blazer in the beginning of March and to sit down on the icy stone steps. But you needed to get away from the people, the turmoil and the noise. You needed space where you could be alone with your thoughts so you could sort things out. Suddenly you felt a soft fabric hugging your shoulders. You turned around and were greeted by the warmest smile.

“I heard you had a bitch fight with Kiseok,” Christian joked to ease your tension. You chuckled at him softly, before looking away embarrassed. You tugged your arms inside the sleeves of his jacket before you crossed them in front of your chest, trying to keep your body heat.

“Are you okay?“ His voice, just like the expression on his face changed. He sat down on the stairs next to you.

“Let’s end it,” you said out of the blue, completely disregarding his question. “End what?“ He cocked up his brows at you with a rather confused look on his face. “Whatever we have.“ “Friendship?“

You turned your head to the side, staring at him flabbergasted. You were surprised by his answer. Usually you were the person who opened up too quickly, got friendly too quickly, liked people too quickly. You were used to being the one who always gave but never received anything in return. Your friendship was only treasured when your help was needed, but the moment you were in need of something, they would turn the other way. It was a nice feeling for a change, to be appreciated. It was nice to know that he considered you as much a friend as you considered him.

“I meant sex.“

“So, friends without benefits then? I’m fine with that,” he nodded his head in agreement. “If you take sex away we don’t really have much in common, do we?. It’s not like we’re the best of friends.”

“I could name a few things. You’re passionate about your work. You’re a dog person. Lori loves you. We both have weird families…and we’re both attractive people,” he started off serious but quickly threw in a couple jokes which earned him another laugh from you.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.“ “Because of Kiseok?” He took a guess, his brows furrowed as his mouth turned grim. You shook your head and corrected him, “Jay." “I figured he didn’t like me that much,” Christian chuckled lightly. “He has been giving me death glares.”

You laughed again, giving him a gentle punch. You were trying to have a serious conversation with him, but he kept trying to mix a bit of humour into it.

“You’re always gonna live your life pleasing everybody else?“ “I’ve known him since forever. He’s someone I care about,” you tried to explain to him though you didn’t really expect him to understand. He didn’t seem to be the type of person who easily got attached to people like you did. “If he truly cared about you, he wouldn’t ask something like that of you.“ “He didn’t,” you clarified. “But I can see he’s hurt and it’s straining our friendship. I can’t lose any more people in my life.”

“He’s hurt because you’re living your life and trying to move one?” He asked, he didn’t even attempt to hide his mocking and sarcastic tone.

“Jay doesn’t like you and I get why. I mean, if we switched the roles and I was in Jay’s place, I wouldn’t want him to be friends with Kiseok’s side chick either.”

“I don’t understand,” Christian shook his head in confusion. He didn’t get what you were trying to say. “Me being friendly with you is about the same as him being friendly with Kiseok’s side chick. You did sleep with the person Jay loved most after all.”

“Are you talking about Ashley?” He tried to figure out the connection you were alluding at.

“You actually remember her name?“ There was a hint of surprise in your tone. “I like having sex, I’m not a brainless monster,” he replied, his tone was harsh. He almost seemed to be angry and offended by your remark. “Why did you sleep with her? I mean everybody knew they were dating. You must have known too. Making Jay Park your enemy isn’t the smartest decision.“ “Let’s be honest, they didn’t have the most stable relationship and it’s not like I forced her to do something she didn’t want.“

“I don’t understand,” your brows knitted in a frown as you inspected his face through narrowed eyes. “I mean you could have wooed any girl, but you purposely chose Jay’s girl. It doesn’t make sense.“

“They were broken up,” he pointed out which was probably true. Jay and Ashely were constantly on and off, it was hard to keep track. Even so everyone knew she was Jay’s girl, even if they weren’t seeing each other in that moment. Everyone knew the break up wouldn’t last long and eventually they would get back together. “For how long though?“ “Listen, not everything is what is seems.” “What is that supposed to mean?“ “You don’t know everything that goes on in a relationship, unless you’re actually part of of it. You know only what Jay had told you. Because he’s your friend and I don’t blame you for that. But that’s just one side of the story.“ “You’re saying he is lying?” You deduced. “No,” he shook his head at you gently. “I’m saying that we’re both not in the position to judge someone else or their relationship, no matter how much we think we know about them.“ “I’m not judging Ashley for sleeping with you.“ You snapped back. You were the last person who would judge a woman’s decision to have sex with someone. “You’re judging me, Minhee.“ “No, I’m not,” you denied right away shaking your head vigorously. “You are. You have been the moment we met. I thought you would stop once you get to know me. But you still want me to be that bad person so badly.“

“That’s not true...“ Your voice was a mere whisper at end of the sentence because you lost confidence in what you were saying. “I don’t blame you for that. I know what reputation I have and I get why you would have trust issues. I just thought that maybe I could prove you wrong and you would start seeing me with your own eyes, not through the eyes of others. Perhaps it was naive to think I could change your mind.“ “Why do you even wanna change my mind? Is it a game to you?“ You threw another accusation at him. Christian let out a bitter chuckle as he slowly shook his head at you again. “I am not Kiseok. You need to stop projecting the fears you had with him onto me. Because I am not him,” he emphasised each and every word.

“I know, but I’m just trying to understand the motivation behind your actions.“ “You don’t. If you really want to understand you would ask different questions. But your interrogation is based on the very fact that you think I’m a bad person who enjoys playing with other people’s heart.“ “I don’t think you’re a bad person. I wouldn’t spend time with you, if that were true,” you tried to prove him wrong, but who were you kidding? The rumors you had heard about him did prejudice you against him even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“Then why are you asking me why I did it? Why are you not asking me if I did it?“

“Are you saying you didn’t sleep with her?“ You were utterly puzzled now. The more he said the more confused you got. “I’m saying you already have a picture of me inside your head. You don’t want to know the truth. You want to know the truth that fits your narrative.“

In a silence that followed, Christian pushed himself back on his feet. “I’m leaving. Keep the jacket, I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Christian, wait!” Your hand had reached out for him and grabbed onto his wrist before you realized what you were doing. You felt him flinch a bit under your touch, probably because your hands were icy cold. Your grip was loose, he could have easily shaken you off if he wanted to, yet he didn’t. Instead he stopped in his track and lowered his gaze, anchoring his attention on you again. He expected you to say something, but you didn’t. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even know why you held onto him in the first place. You were trying so hard to think of something to say, there was probably smoke coming out of your head -  that’s how hard your brain was working. Christian scanned your face for a reaction. One second, two seconds, three seconds had passed in utter silence.

“What?” He finally asked, prompting you to say something.

“Nothing,” you released him from your grip and pulled your hand back. Although there was nothing holding him back anymore, at least not physically, he stayed. He stood rooted to the spot as though he wanted to give you another chance to say something. But you never did. Eventually he let out a chuckle - a flat, one-syllable chuckle - before he shook his head disappointed and headed back inside the building.

Soooo what do you guys think will happen between Christian and Minhee? Let me know! I’m looking forward to reading your thoughts! Btw sorry for all the Simon D fans, I kinda had to make him a dick here, but maybe he will redeem himself?

[asgardianthot]

Hunting Season (sambucky) – Part 1

Fake Dating AU

Series Masterlist

Summary: The Barnes family is your average rich people circus. With Bucky’s post-breakup financial depression, and a literal treasure hunt at stake, his best friend Sam finds himself in a mad situation in order to help him. They sure can pretend to be together, but that’s just the easy part.

A/N: You want some clichés? I’ll give you some clichés! Fake Dating, friends to lovers, asshole ex-boyfriend, only one bed, mutual pinning, slowburn, you name it :) Also rich!Bucky headcanon because I can.

Words: 3944

The night before.

"What is it this time?" Sam answered the phone, preparing for the rant he was about to hear.

On the other end, Bucky sighed heavily.

"Everything?"

Sam kept his chuckle in as he poured the freshly cooked spaghetti on a plate.

"That's a new one." He rolled his eyes, "Is he still calling you or something?"

"Yeah, and... God, I think I might take him up on his offer."

Although his friend's tone was extremely off-putting, Sam knew him too well and was certain that Bucky wasn't being serious. He was just saying it to be dramatic because he felt trapped. Still, he needed to be reminded that there was light at the end of the tunnel.

Wilson placed the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could take his meal to the table which was a few steps away from the actual kitchen zone.

"No, you won't." Sam reminded him.

"I might!"

Bucky didn't sound honest, but he sounded desperate. He had broken up with the world's biggest, most monumental jerk a hundred times before, yet for various financial and emotional reasons, Bucky had also returned to the man too many times. Sam knew there was an emotional bond, a toxic one, but never asked to what extent, he just made sure Bucky didn't fall back into his webs. Recently, though, it seemed as if he had come to his senses; hadn't picked up the phone when the devil's name came up on his screen for weeks, didn't even mention the master manipulator in a long time.

Sam sat at the small table and put his phone on speaker, next to his food.

"You can't just go back for his money, man."

"Well, I can't keep crashing at my parents’ house, either." Barnes replied with more anguish than Sam had expected.

He sounded like he was fed up with the whole living situation. Although the Barnes weren't necessarily bad, they were inherently overwhelming and controlling people with whom Bucky had already spent eighteen miserable years; Sam understood how downright exhausting it must be to go back to them for help, and he understood why he hated it there. He probably had just gotten into an argument, but Sam still felt empathy towards his poor friend, because Sam's parents were the nicest people on earth- sure, they pried and judged from time to time, but only the normal parental amount. He couldn't imagine growing up in the Barnes' house.

So instead of spurring out laments and empathic hums, he focused on finding Bucky a solution, reminding him there was a way out of the mansion-trap.

"What about that job?"

"I didn't get it." There was a hearable stop, followed by a groan, "I don't know what else to do, I don't know how much longer I can stay here!"

As he worked his brain, Sam shoved a forkfull of spaghetti into his mouth, using the time he was chewing to concoct a quick solution. His friend just needed some caring aid, and Sam was good with home finances, he's good at being responsible and setting down instructions. He's a college professor after all, so giving orders and helping people in confusing times was wired into his bones.

He swallowed before speaking, "Tell you what, why don't you come over and we'll figure something out?"

-

Sam was just finished doing his single dish in his single apartment when Bucky got there. He opened the door and found the resemblance of a lost puppy.

"Thank you."

The host ushered him inside, and while Bucky closed the door behind him, Sam returned to the kitchen to finish putting everything away.

"Don't thank me yet. We need to come up with a plan." He turned to him with a mildly disappointing glance, for he was expecting a disappointing answer, "Just to be clear: no savings?"

"Nope." Bucky popped his 'p' with exaggerated defeat.

"Remind me to call you an idiot later."

"Will do." He nodded.

While Sam put away the now clean pan on the bottom counter, James found himself shame-walking to the table. He sat down, extended his arms over the furniture and let his head drop with self-pity.

"What about your folks, are they really not willing to help out?" Sam tried.

"They won't give me a single penny."

"Can't say that I'm surprised."

As soon as Wilson headed towards his friend, he noticed Bucky was waiting for him to be able to stay one hundred percent attentive. He was fidgeting with his fingers and bouncing his leg up and down, looking way too nervous for being around Sam, his best friend whom he trusted more than anyone. So, Sam got the severity of the issue and sat down on the table with him.

"Listen..." Bucky began, although he missed Sam's eye contact on purpose, "I was thinking... and I know that you've already supported me enough, but maybe... you could, uh... Lend me some money?" Suddenly, his face contorted in anguish as he was clearly embarrassed to even ask; before Sam could respond, he started rambling, "Just to get my own place, and I promise I'll pay you back as soon as I get some stability."

Sam tilted his head with sympathy.

"Of course I can lend you some money. But it's still a risky shot, dude."

Seeing him shrug, Sam noticed the evident sadness and surrender in James' face, and Sam wondered if it had been the devil ex or the Barnes who had sucked the hope out of him.

"It's all I got. I can't stand my parents any longer."

Sam nodded, and they fell into some silence. The discomfort coming from Bucky's end of the table was palpable, so Sam attempted to ease some of the tension.

"You can always just leave the country and go live with your sister." He joked.

The way Bucky looked at him with a small smile, Sam could read the gratefulness in his eyes.

"Nah, I could never leave you." Barnes taunted back, "You'd crumble."

"Yeah, that's it." Sam looked away with lifted, disbelieving eyebrows, "Definitely not the other way around."

He got a chuckle out of his best friend, and in comparison to the glim aura that had been surrounding him the last minutes, it was a relieving sound

" 'sides, she wouldn't get off my back either." Bucky added, "Rebecca's not an option."

Once again, silence dropped on them, only this time it was a pensive one. It didn't take long for Sam to have the best idea he'd had yet.

"Drink?" he offered.

"Please."

-

"I'm telling you, I can't seem to do anything right." Bucky admitted in between sips of wine, "The more I try to fix my shit, the more I mess it up, and that's Brock's cue to jump right back into the picture and offer an easy way out."

"You can't let him control you." His friend reminded him, "You're better than that."

Bucky had heard that speech a hundred times, and a hundred times he had lowered his head with shameful agreement, like a toddler being reprimanded and responding with the generic You're right, I'll do better. However, this time, Barnes was honest. Too honest, for Sam's taste, actually. Staring into nothingness as if illuminated by some divine realization of disappointment, he clacked his tongue.

"See, I don't know that I am."

Sam, on his part, was having none of that.

"Yes, you are. You've just made some very questionable choices." He slurred, and only then did Bucky realize how drunk his friend had gotten over the past hour, "And you wanna know why?"

With the last question went a very unpreoccupied hand gesture, employing the hand which held the glass of red wine like he'd forgotten the wine was even there, and therefore almost spilling it all over his carpet.

Bucky cringed and reached for the now turned dangerous beverage.

"I think that's enough wine for you." He laughed, trying to pry the glass away.

"Because you never listen to me!" Sam ignored him, which was Bucky's cue to effectively grab it and leave it on the coffee table, "I told you not to let him pay for stuff in the first place. Told you if he owns everything you share, he owns you."

The words, Bucky remembered from many times prior. The harsh tone, though, was relatively new.

"It just sort of happened." He shrugged, "I lost my job and suddenly..."

As Bucky lost his trail, Sam filled in with amusement, "You became a housewife from, like, the 1950's."

Barnes smirked in an attempt to lighten the mood, and escape the current lecture he was receiving, "Why is that bad?"

Unfortunately for him, Sam was not playing along.

"Because you can't hand them your independence. Not to your parents, not to Brock Fucking Rumlow, not to anyone. You know what's worth more than money?"

"Let me guess, my freedom?"

"Your dignity." Sam laid out the words with much more seriousness any drunk man should be able to convey.

Silence followed the rough declaration, and Bucky sat back. He pursed his lips at the ground, feeling even more judged in that apartment than in his parents' house. At least, they nagged about things that were insignificant to him, but what Sam had just dropped was a truth-bomb that resonated with his deepest concerns.

"That hurt." He admitted.

He wasn't upset, and even less with Sam. This was what he needed to hear, after all, and he could always trust Sam to be responsible and hones, but that didn't mean he would sleep on that sentence until he made some real changes in his life.

"It's just the truth." Sam grinned with somewhat lament as he reached for more wine.

-

The day of.

Sam woke up the next morning with the smell of fresh breakfast, and a hangover. When he managed to get on his feet, he walked down to the living room, where he found Bucky preparing something in the kitchen. Last night's events came back to him at the sight of his face: his cry for help, one late night talk and lots of wine. That's pretty much all that came to mind, which made him wonder what his drunk persona had put Bucky through.

"Morning, pal!" the voice made him jump a bit.

Bucky seemed cheery, which meant that he'd woken up hangover-free, and that drunk Sam hadn't been a pain in his ass. Sam felt he could relax.

"Did I really pass out on red wine in my own couch?" he groaned, scratching the back of his head.

Walking closer, he recognized what Bucky was preparing as french toasts, and his rumbling stomach felt grateful.

"Like a grandpa." Bucky confirmed with a mocking tone.

"Jesus Christ." Sam sighed.

"Don't let your dad hear you say the Lord's name in vain."

The warning reminded Sam of Bucky's parental situation. Bucky was one of Sam’s few friends who knew Sam's parents, and they'd gotten along many times, whereas Sam had never even met the Barnes. He knew Rebecca, but that was about it, and he figured they must be real characters if Bucky kept them away from him.

Sam let his body fall flat onto the couch, and covered his eyes with his arm rather dramatically, "I'm slowly spiraling down into a mediocre professor's life."

"You're not a mediocre professor and you don't have a mediocre life." Bucky denied him the right to self-loathe.

"I disagree. Your problems are the highlight of my week."

"Stop moaning and eat up."

As Sam raised his arm to peak, he found a plate of french toasts and a cup of orange juice being offered to him.

He gave Bucky a look of ultimate gratefulness as he mumbled a thank you and received the food.

Suddenly he appreciated more than ever that his friend was good at cooking, even though it probably came from a tragic backstory like his many childhood maids taught him in order to replace the absence of his parents or something.

"Least I could do." Bucky reckoned, meaning the fact that Sam had welcomed him into his home and offered to help him with his financial situation, "This, and dragging you to bed last night."

Sam visibly cringed before taking a big bite, "Did I say really dumb stuff?"

Bucky reflected on that idea for a hot second. Sam had, as a matter of fact, spilled out some truths, but Bucky didn't want to embarrass him, so he simply let it go.

He chuckled instead, "Nah, just the usual stupidity."

On his way to prepare some coffee, he checked his phone and noticed he'd received a text: we need to talk.

-

He knew what this was about. Which was the reason why he told his parents to meet him for lunch, some place they would approve of, after he'd had time to tidy up and borrow some of Sam's clothes. All just to minimize the judgement he was about to endure.

As soon as he sat down on the restaurant table, Barnes father hit him with that familiar severity.

"Where did you spend the night?"

"A hotel room." Bucky replied.

"You can't afford one."

"And I have you to thank for that." The tone quickly shifted to one of mutual accusations, "You're the one who cancelled all my cards."

"James." His mother joined the conversation in an attempt to get Bucky to lower said tone.

"It’s fine. I'm gonna crash at a friend's house.” Bucky directed the eased words to his mother, "Until I get on my own feet- which I will."

"A friend?" the dad interrupted, "Is that what you're doing now to pay for a roof over your head?"

Bucky raised his eyebrows, unamused, "Are you calling me a whore?"

"James, your father and I are worried." The woman reached over the table for her son's hands, "We want you to get yourself out of this... low spot. And last night, you proved your immaturity to us by throwing a tantrum and running away."

"Wasn't a tantrum." James retrieved his hands from his mother's grasp, "Look, if you're not going to help me out financially, then I see no reason to indulge your criticism. Otherwise it's just free abuse."

The older man rolled his eyes, "Always the drama king."

A cloud of silence fell upon the three people, thankfully soon joined by a waitress who took their orders. After they all delivered their monotone words and handed the lady their menus, Barnes father went back to the same topic.

"So, who's paying for your stuff?"

Bucky sat back on his chair, "Oh, we're still on that."

"Just wanna know how much I owe the poor soul. You keep forcing your financial situation on people, you're gonna run out of friends."

Eventually, James found himself in a tight spot. Whatever answer he gave his father, the man wouldn't be satisfied. His own son begging for money was beyond simple disappointment. The only time George Barnes had approved of Bucky depending on someone was when Brock Rumlow owned his life, because Brock was a family friend and a fine young man. Naturally, an opportunity popped into Bucky's head.

"Well, he's not a friend." He announced, earning attentive looks from both his parents, "He's, uh... we're a couple. He's not lending me money, we're sort of... living together."

Something in their eyes told Bucky they weren't buying it.

"Since when?" the mother asked.

"It's been sporadic. But we're stable."

George Barnes narrowed his eyes, "I take it it's not Rumlow."

"No, I told you, that's over." Bucky shook his head.

"Then I wanna meet this guy."

"Oh, invite him over to Nana's." The woman clapped her hands together.

The simple thought of the upcoming family vacation made him lose his appetite. Every year during spring break, the Barnes would get together for some quality time at their grandparents’ lake house. Bucky figured that this year, he probably would spend one or two weeks there before he could manage an excuse to leave. That was before he made up a fictional boyfriend, though, and the biggest problem was he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring.

"He has plans for the break." He lied.

Winnifred gave him a look that yelled incomprehension, as if she was incapable of fathoming the idea of someone not wanting to join their plans. "He can cancel them, he'll have more fun at the lake house anyways!"

"It's just that-"

"He'd love it.” Her voice began doing that thing where she sounded like she was genuinely begging, instead of simply manipulating, “And maybe you two could win Nana's hunt this year."

Now that caught Bucky’s attention. That actually made him reconsider everything. The Barnes had some very odd traditions, some Bucky loved and some he despised; but there was one in particular he had very mixed sentiments about, and which now presented itself like lifeboat.

"Right. The hunt." He trailed off, contemplating the possibility of participating in the godforsaken annual hunt.

"So what's he do?" his father’s words snapped him back.

"Huh?"

"Your boyfriend. What does he do?"

Bucky swallowed hard. In a moment of complete panic, his blank mind went to the easiest way out: the person who had actually offered his house to him for the night. Sam’s occupation was the only thing that popped into his head.

"He's a... professor.” He blurted out without much thought, “University."

"That's lovely." His mother approved.

Shit. It only then occurred to him that he was effectively making up a boyfriend, job and all, which meant he certainly couldn’t get away from it now. And it would only get worse as he dug into his lie deeper and deeper.

"What do I call him?" the older man asked.

Once again, Bucky found himself gulping.

-

"You told them what?!" Sam exclaimed.

Bucky sat with his head down in shame, while Sam paced around his own apartment, furiously.

"I'm sorry." Barnes said truthfully.

"You could've dragged anyone along with your dumb plans.” Sam ignored him and continued scolding him. “Why me?"

The appellee sighed, "It was an ambush, Sam, you should've seen it."

"I don't care!"

"They were asking me all these questions, it felt like a fucking quizz!” Bucky’s lamenting state turned much more hectic as he tried to explain his actions, “I panicked, I don't know, it just came out."

A big breath of disappointment shook Sam’s chest. Of course, he tried to understand Bucky when it came to his family. He did his best. But this was too much, for now that pressure had been transported to Sam. The weight relied on Sam’s shoulders as a whole. Still, he figured there was no way out of the hole Bucky had dug for the both of us. If the Barnes thought Sam was their son’s boyfriend, then that’s what he was. At least, until Bucky found an exit for both of them.

Reflecting on how this would be the last favor he would ever do for his friend, and at the same time acknowledging that was just a lie he told himself, Sam sat next to Bucky, who seemed expectant of more judgement. Much to his surprise, Sam’s words weren’t harsh.

"I take it they wanna meet the boyfriend." He said, a lot more nonchalantly than either of them expected.

Bucky looked at him with wide eyes, "Shit, are you serious? Would you do that for me?"

"Yeah, wouldn't be the first time I get you out of trouble." Sam ran a hand down his face.

"Sam, you’re-“

"The best, I know.” Wilson glanced up at the ceiling for strength, laying back on his couch, “So when do we have to put on a show?"

There was a brief silence, only interrupted by the sound of Bucky’s fingernails scratching the back of his head, which dropped another wave of tension upon the pair.

"That's the thing." Bucky cringed.

"What's the thing?"

"You know my family's lake house?" he tempted.

"No. No, no, no!” Sam found himself standing up at the mere thought of what he knew he was being asked, “I am not going to the middle of rich nowhere with you and your folks."

"It would only be a week.” Bucky raised his voice with a plea, earning a look of disbelief from Sam who felt like a week was not worthy of being introduced by the word ‘only’, “But, with a bunch of family members."

Samuel shook his head, clear disbelief plastered on his features.

"You don't realize how insane you sound right now."

"Hear me out, this is a good thing. Just... listen.” Bucky raised his hands in defense, “You know how my grandfather left his fortune to Nana?”

Doing his absolute best to stay open-minded, Sam nodded. Perhaps Bucky was headed somewhere with his explanation.

“Well, she has this... odd way of getting rid of it."

"The hell you talking about?" Sam frowned, growing inpatient.

"I never told you ‘cause it made me sound even more of a trust fund baby."

"Which you are."

"Point taken.” Bucky tilted his head with acceptance before he continued, “But this is good for both of us. She hates giving out her money, but she has no use for it, so she... makes it into a game every year."

Sam remained quiet, becoming more and more upset because he started getting an idea of what this was about: money and his family’s eccentric behaviors. And of course, Bucky meant to bring Sam into both of those things.

"I hate your family."

Bucky couldn’t hold back a tiny smirk, "You won't when you find out how much the prize is."

Suddenly, Sam found himself considering the offer. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm listening." He said, unprepared for the number he was about to hear.

"Four million dollars.” Bucky laid out like he was pitching him a job offer, which, in some twisted way, it was, “We split it, I can get back on my own feet, gain my independence... and you get two millions for being such a good friend."

The amount of money was too much for a family game. The idea sounded too ridiculous for any normal family. But then again, these were the Barnes. Therefore, while Sam was having a hard time processing the information, he blinked fast, maintaining eye contact with Bucky, almost as if waiting for his friend to break character and reveal that this was all a joke.

"Two million dollars?" Sam confirmed.

"Two million each." Bucky nodded, expectant.

Sam had to sit back down, but not next to Bucky this time. He sat on the coffee table, still digesting it. The prize was more than what he made in a year. And it really seemed like this was Bucky’s best solution to all his problems.

"And it's a game?" Sam asked with that same cautious tone.

"Yeah, it's a... treasure hunt.” Barnes shrugged, “With, like, challenges and stuff. She cooks up the entire thing in her twisted little mind."

Sam nodded, at nothing really, but just as a manner of expressing that he had processed everything properly.

"But we'd have to pretend for a full week and actually win the thing."

"Nana loves me, 've always been her favorite. You butter her up, she'll give us the cheats. Make it easy for us."

The man nodded again, this time with purpose, "Okay."

"Okay?" Bucky raised his eyebrows with hope.

"Okay." Sam raised his voice before he could regret the choice, "Let's get this prize."

[scottfuckingreed]

Truth or Dare - Part Five

-

VERY REQUESTED (i’m sorry for the long ass wait)

-

Warnings!: Includes swearing and detailed sexual images (female masturbation)

-

Oh wow okay. His? I hate the fact that I heard ‘back to mine’ and internally started worrying about the fact that I haven’t shaved, I’m not mentally prepared at all, and I’m an absolute sucker for anything this boy does. It must be hypnotics or something. But I haven’t shaved. I’m not like a monster - I’m not that hairy - but I ain’t smooth. But he is. His words are too smooth. He must do this often. I mean, look at him. Imagine a guy looking like THAT and being unsmooth. It just wouldn’t happen. We get to his, and it’s this nicely done up house which is cosy and cute. It’s somehow exactly what I imagined. Not that I’ve imagined it too often... The fingers on my right hand rub against the top of a unit. They stop at a picture frame, which I pick up. “Is this you and your mum?” I ask, totally in awe at the adorable photo. Monty’s probably 13/14 in it. Both of their faces are smushed together with the biggest grins on their faces. “So cute,” I smirk towards him. I wish I could say I see a slight bit of awkwardness in his face, but he plays it off so cool. “I’ll get you a drink, you can make your way up to my room if you want,” he smiles. 1. That’s so cute. 2. Okayyyyyy. Photo frames line up the side of the stairs. They’re all so happy, and Monty continues to be so fucking cute as a child! There’s no shock there either I guess.

No part of me feels nosey, which it should, as I look around Monty’s room. It’s pretty basic. Baseball shit on the wall, trophy’s placed proudly on shelves. It’s quite tidy though. There may be a few clothes on the floor and some shit shattered, but it’s honestly probably tidier than my room. He hands me a glass, which is very clear. His eyes lock on me as I sniff the contents of the glass. He lets out a laugh. “It’s just water.” After confirming that for me, I take a sip. “Yours is water too?” I ask. I’ve never seen this guy drink anything other than alcohol. “I have practise later so.” And then there’s silence. Fuuuuuuuuck.

It quickly becomes less awkward. Me and Monty hardly talked 2 days ago, and now we’re laughing around in his room. It doesn’t just happen. But it did. “I didn’t know you were this good,” I say, not in a rude way, as I admire one of the trophy’s. “I’m no ‘Bryce Walker’, but I’m alright I guess,” humble? This is NOT the Monty I know. “Didn’t you used to be a cheerleader?” Oh god. Bring up the old memories why don’t you. I let out a small laugh. “I’m surprised you would remember such an insignificant thing like that, but yeah I guess. I was shit at it though.” “Well the main part of being a cheerleader is to be sexy and distract the players right?” A smile spreads across my face, shaking my head slowly at the words flowing out of his mouth. “It is, and I have to say I’m definitely distracted,” as he spoke his words, he started making his way towards me. He so irresistible. Ffs. He just there, right in front of me, smiling because HE KNOWS he has me right where he wants me. “You’re such a flirt Cruz,” I go to push his head softly and playfully, but my hand just stays placed on his cheek. “You’re so distracting Y/L/N.” Move Y/N. Say something! But I can’t say something. I can’t say anything. The Monty I knew- thought I knew- is not the guy sat in front of me. Where’s the guy who pushed Tyler Down into the lockers on multiple occasions. He’s always been the bad boy you’re not meant to like, but they’re always the attractive ones so you do anyway. This is too tempting. My words are stuck in my throat, not that I even know what to say. He knows what he’s doing. And it’s working! He moves his head slowly closer to mine, and I just wanted to pull it closer faster. The warmth of his breath sends shivers down my spine. Hovering lips almost touch then... my phone rings. His body throws itself back on his bed. Defeated. “Shit, it’s my mum.” I let out in a whisper. Every inch of my being wants to just ignore it, but my mum with never forgive me. EVER! “Hey mum!” I answer as enthusiastically as I can. She mumbles on about how she’s cooking tea before she’s goes out. And my little sister will need me. Blah blah blah. Way to kill a mood mum. “I have to go,” I break to him slowly. “I figured, I guess we’ll just have to continue another time,” I raise my eyebrows. Grabbing my bag, I go to show myself out. Something about leaving makes words I couldn’t find earlier come spiralling out. Words I didn’t intend on saying. “You can call me though, if you’d like,” I shrug. Confidence? Who is she? I don’t recognise me.

A strong, slightly chilly breeze guides me home. It’s nice to actually clear my head. To think so much has happened over the past few days, ever since that stupid party and an even sillier game. I’d like to believe that it’s for the best that my mum rang me when she did. Although I doubt it, maybe I’d regret flirting with Monty more. Who am I kidding, I’m pissed. But at least the sky is clear, even if my head isn’t. It’s muddled and tangled and, well, fucked. The best thing for me to do is push Monty, and all the other boys, out. I don’t care; It’s just a little game: As fun as it is, it’s a no.

“Where were you after school?” My 7 year old sister Y/S/N asks. I know all children are annoying, but she actually not too bad. Sure she smells and screams and just pretends to be angelic for mum, but I’ve seen worse. Oh and she’s nosey. Sometimes I think mum puts her up to this. “I was at a friend’s, why?” I smile. Purely out of happiness, not because I was hanging out with Monty. We sit at the dining table. Y/S/N has not moved from her seat since I’ve got home, so neither have I. Shes rather artistic. We draw and colour and doodle. It’s actually extremely relaxing. “Mummy thinks you have a boyfriend,” her tone is ‘know-it-all’ if that makes sense. At least I’m not lying. “Well I’ll tell mummy that I don’t. I wish!” I gasp, making her giggle. “Yeah, you’re lonely!” “Hey! I shout jokingly. “You just continue doing your colouring missy,” i reach my hands towards her, tickling her all over her body until she’s red in the face.

Do you ever just close your eyes and make up scenarios in your head? It’s sounds crazy I know! But I just lay down and visualize things that are just unrealistic sometimes. I did say that I was going to push Monty out, but I meant out of my life. Thinking about him is nothing. He won’t even know. The clock reads 11:57, and my head remains on hyperspeed. I can’t get the thoughts of Monty out. Images of him smirking. The sound of him being smug. The feeling of him underneath me as I ground on him. I squeeze my eyes shut, already regretting the movement of my hand. I could search for some willpower. If I did, I’m sure I’d find some. But I have no willpower to search for willpower right now. My hand reaches my vagina, shooting immediate pleasure through my body. I hold it still for a second, wondering if this will push me too far towards Monty. I don’t want anything, like this, to do with Monty. But he’s so fucking hot.

I let my fingers move. Flashes of Monty shoot through my head. It weird how you can imagine things that you haven’t seen happen. Like it’s weird how, laid here right now, I have the ability to imagine Montgomery in any way I’d like. As I rub soft circles against my clit, I visualise myself laid in sexy lingerie on Monty’s bed. It’s the same blue sheets with white lines all over them. I can feel the mattress beneath me. I can see Monty in nothing but white boxers crawling on top of me. My breath heightens at the thought of feeling his breath against my face once again. I change the rhythm of my fingers, slowly sinking a single digit into my core. A slight moan escapes my mouth. In my head, Monty kisses down between my breasts, his right hand squeezing one as he trails down my body: all the way down to the top of my panties. One finger turns to two. I can’t help but get wetter and wetter at my own vivid imagination. That’s all it is. I’m only imagining Monty’s slightly rough fingertips against my skin as he pulls my things down and throws them across the room. But it feels so good! Our eyes lock, and he’d say something like ‘are you ready baby’. The deepness of his voice would send me to a different dimension. He’d hook his arms around my thighs, pulling me down closer to him. I wiggle to get into a comfier position. The toes at the very end of my body begin to curl quite violently. His head would be buried into my pussy, which makes my top half of my body raise only slightly. My moans are mostly internalised, but the pleasure is all real. I pick up the pace of my fingers as juices begin to flood down my own hand. I should stop, but it feels incredible. Imagine what it would feel like from him? His hands, which remain latched around my thighs, would keep my core close to his tongue lapsing around my clit. I wouldn’t be able to help my right hand pushing him as deep into my vagina as possible, probably catching him a few times with my nails. I begin to focus more on my clit, as I imagine he would too, pulling my fingers out. The circular motion becomes quite vigorous. “Shit,” I whisper to myself as I feel my stomach start to knot. My thighs would attempt to close around his face, but he would pull them open and hold them with quite a bit of pressure. Both his forehead and his arms would bulge with a vein. I roll my eyes back into my head. The knot tightens more and more until I feel the need to release. My scream would be as simple as ‘Monty I’m cumming!’. Right now, I cover my mouth with the inner elbow of my left arm. My eyes squeeze tighter shut. I wanna scream out as I ride out my high. I know for a fact that Monty would lick up all my juices. He’d make a slightly dick comment about how he’s ‘just cleaning up’, but I’d feel him him against me, vibrating an incredible sensation up through my entire body. My arm collapses onto my bed, having that feeling of almost cramping. The racing of my heart follows my heavy breaths.

I’m sure the guilt will take over in the morning.

[darawonplease]

✵ polaris. ch.2 - changes.

Necessary warning.

This fic Is loosely inspired by “So Beautiful” and “5STAR”.

I’m in no way trying to romanticize mental illness. DID is a serious matter and this is just the exploration of the concept treated in the m/v in a fictional way (like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) and in no way an accurate depiction of this disorder. If this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t go further.

a.n. I’ll use all different names for the characters (real name/English name/nickname/stage name), it might get confusing so-

For reference: Barom / Rom / Christian / Ian ✵ Chaerin / Chae / Rin / CL ✵ Dabin / Live ✵ Scott / Rem

✵ ch.2 – changes.

「 ☽ Ian's POV」

“Promise me you know how to ride this thing”.

Chae approached me with uncertain steps.

“Just trust me”. I threw her way the extra helmet I kept in the saddlebag.

She hopped onto my motorcycle and immediately wrapped her hands around me.

“Chaerin? Are you scared by any chance?

I chuckled at her. No matter how fierce her celebrity image was, deep down she was a soft, scaredy-cat.

“I-Ian! Don’t make fun of me, ok? It’s just that I have never done this before”.

“What? You’ve never ridden a motorcycle?”.

She slowly grasped my shirt.

“Never…”.

“There’s always a first time so brace yourself miss”.

I suddenly pushed my foot on the accelerator.

“IAN!”.

.

Seoul city opened before our eyes, the bright neon and LEDs becoming flashes of color in the distance.

A rush of adrenaline kicked in my bloodstreams; riding my much-loved motorcycle was a way to escape – although shortly – from all my troubles.

She rested her head on my back, gently.

“You alright?!”. I shouted in the shy hope she’d hear my voice in the roaring of the vehicle.

Chae remained silent, only holding me closer to her.

I didn’t hesitate a second and took the road that brought us back to DPR’s studio and parked the motorcycle under the building.

“Oi… I didn’t wanna force you to do this, I’m sorry”. I hopped off after her.

Chae removed the black helmet and shook her head, making the silky silver hair fall over her shoulders.

“That was rad, let’s do it again sometime”.

She flashed her best smile at me, leaving my poor self completely smitten by her excitement.

“Oh, you guys went for a ride?”.

I turned around; Dabin was leaning beside the entrance door with both hands in his black hoodie front pocket, the brooding aura he emanated was quite unlike him.

“Yeah…”. I scratched the back of my head; the hint of tension in the atmosphere stiffened me.

“Man, take me with you next time!”. He cackled – his eyes disappearing in two small half-moons as he patted my back repeatedly. Dabin’s sudden mood switch took me so aback that I froze in place with a confused smile on my lips.

“You two are such lovebirds”. Chae wrapped her hands around both of us, embracing all three in a warm group hug.

“Yeah, my Ian-nie Hyung, come kiss me”.

“Oh, come here Dabin-i”.

“Get a room”. Chae rolled her eyes jokingly.

.

✵

.

“Ian”. Scott called for my attention, waving the pen he furiously kept clicking during the call.

“Huh?”.

“You spazzed out”.

“I’m just tired. What’s up?”. I ran my hand through my hair to fix the long lock hanging in front of my eyes.

“Their producer just told me on the phone…”, he heaved a long sigh, “they decided to cancel the shooting”.

“This too?”.

“Apparently”. Scott drowned his face in his palm in resignation.

“How the fuck are we going to fund our projects if we keep going like this?”.

“Christian”, he moved closer to me with the swivel chair and rest his hand on my shoulder to, hopefully, reassure me. “I’ll find some other gig to keep us afloat”.

“This WAS the gig we needed to keep us afloat”. I stood up from my seat, abruptly pushing away his hand away from me.

Dabin barged into the recording room, “Did you guys hear the news? The producer just canceled the project”.

“We ALREADY fucking know, Dabin”. I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

“What’s with this attitude man?”.

Scott glared at him and shook his head, silently begging him to refrain from responding anymore.

I reached for the leather jacket still plopped onto the chair and headed towards the exit door.

Dabin narrowed his eyes, “Where are you going?”.

“Home”.

“What?”.

Scott grabbed Dabin by his shoulder to stop him from coming after me, but I had already slammed the door before I could see his reaction.

“What the hell is wrong with him?”.

“He’s been like that all day, just leave him be”.

Their voices followed me through the hallways as I made my way out of the building.

.

✵

.

I gripped the handlebar some more, fighting the increasing tingling spreading in my palms and that slowly rode up my arms. I gripped it strong enough to make the last turn before stopping the motorcycle on a moist green patch at the side of the road, leading to the province. I sat beside the vehicle; the stars were roof for my tired body. The chilly night stung my skin with frozen needles.

I reached for air with my trembling hands, trying to grasp something that wasn’t there.

where are you…?

why is everything I built going to shit?

The huge weight on my chest became heavier and heavier as if it wanted to drag my body underground and through hell. I knocked three times on my chest but the ache wouldn’t stop.

why am I so powerless?

Why do I feel like drifting away?

A faint buzzing sound filled my ears in an instant becoming an agonizing strident noise in seconds.

.

✵

.

tic

tic

tic

The constant dripping of freezing water droplets woke me up from what felt like an endless slumber. My body immediately started to tremble as a result of my clothes being drenched wet.

The light made my eyes retire in darkness, I slowly tried to open them again to get used to the faint white glow.

It took me a minute to realize I was sitting against the glass wall of the shower. The water kept falling on my shoulder, drop by drop, relentlessly. Just like every little piece of bad news, every insignificant obstacle, every bad feeling I bottled had just exploded, drowning me. Drop by drop.

I crawled out of the shower, begging my legs to sustain my bloody self. I pressed my hand against the glass wall for support as I tried to finally stand up when a glimpse of crimson red made me immediately turn my head: my knuckles were bruised and sore.

“Who are you? I can’t even recognize you anymore”.

A strained voice echoed in my head as fuzzy images flashed before my eyes, chaotic, unrelated, tangled. I squeezed my eyes, mentally rewinding the events of yesterday evening but finding nothing.

I shook my head and proceeded to crawl out of the bathroom, leaving a wet path behind me like a snail.

I turned towards the living room, a song I didn’t know was playing louder and louder as I stepped towards the couch, where my laptop was.

“What’s this?”. I looked at the file’s name.

.

「 imalwaysnear.m4a」

.

“What the hell?”. The sound of my voice suddenly appeared on the aggressive track, rough and strained. It sounded like me but it also felt like someone else’s.

“When did I record this?”. I mumbled, clicking on the file details to uncover the mystery.

“How come…”.

I squinted my eyes.

.

「 Created: Tuesday, October 27, 2020, 4:44AM 」

.

“It must’ve been…me? Yesterday night?”.

I quickly patted the coffee table to find my phone amidst all the mess, its brightness instantly blinding me.

It was already noon, I had received several audio messages from Scott; He was probably mad at me for disappearing so out of the blue the other day.

I gathered the courage to get scolded and played all of them as I made my way towards the bedroom. I placed the phone on the nightstand and listen half-heartedly to Scott’s voice while I searched for a fresh new outfit.

.

“Ian… I don’t know how to say this. I know it’s been a rough couple of months for us… for you. But what happened yesterday with Dabin was truly alarming. I never made you a violent person. You know I love you man…whatever happens. Just know we’re here for you if you need to talk it out. I hope you’ll apologize to him when you’ll feel ready. He’s okay by the way, just a couple of bruises. Just call me when you feel like it”.

.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and noticed a cut crossing through the bridge of my nose bridge and bruised cheek.

.

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