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jazzthatonewriterchick · 8 months

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Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you and Keigo have begun to realize the strange new feelings you both have for each other after one drunken night at a close friend’s wedding that ends with you in his bed, but because of your longtime friendship and committed relationships with other people, you’re more than happy to forget that night even happened and keep your mutual feelings in the dark…for now, at least.

Story Warnings: Smutty smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Cheating/Infidelity; Mating; Light Degradation; Spanking; Exhibitionism; Multiple Positions; Creampie; Unprotected PIV Sex; Facials; Scent Play; Marking; Spitting; Deepthroating; Cunnilingus; Begging; Edgeplay; Power Play; Daddy Kink; Some Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Mild Violence

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic (except for Rei and Haruko). However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: AO3 is down & supposedly leading people to a scammy site looking to steal personal info, so for now, these 2 chapters are staying on Tumblr until further notice. It's ALWAYS something, I s2g. -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.

Read on AO3 here!

************

Chapter Six: Sex on the Beach.

Keigo swears your ass has never looked better than it does in your perfect, little peach-colored dress.

He would be lying if he said he hasn't been watching the damn thing bounce and jump beneath your sundress ever since you hit the dance floor. Rumi continuously hyping you up doesn’t make it any better. “Yeeeesss, Y/N!” she screams over the music, just as drunk as you are. “Fuck it uuuuup!”

You are happy to do so, bending your knees even more and tossing ass like it’s no one’s business. Keigo does his best to not stare, instead trying to focus on the other drunk guests who are worse off with their dance moves.

However, a certain someone doesn’t allow him to do so when he walks up next to him with a low whistle. “Looks like someone is feeling the champagne,” Fatgum chuckles, holding a whiskey glass in his hand.

“Shit, she’s been feelin’ it for hours now,” Keigo sighs as he and Fatgum watch you buss it to the music, your braids in your face and drink in your hand. You’ve gathered the eyes of a few men since your second mimosa, including the staff, the DJ, and a few pros who don’t know what’s good for them. They only stopped when Keigo looked at them like he had a Glock in his suit pocket for them if they kept eyeing his friend down.

He supposes that he should take the blame for your carefreeness though. He loves seeing you completely free of all your worries, especially about your asshole boyfriend.

But he also knows drunk you can get into some trouble. He remembers that one Halloween when you got so drunk at Nemuri’s masquerade party that you nearly made out with someone you thought was Rei wearing the same colored mask. Or that time Dabi whipped you up his own cocktail and had you skinny-dipping in Keigo’s pool.

He’s had his own fair share of embarrassing, drunk stories though. And plus, seeing you throwing ass and laughing your pretty laugh is much better than seeing you down in the dumps for Rei. Keigo knew for a fact that the dickhead made you cry earlier. You would’ve never ventured away from the wedding if he hadn’t. Keigo knows you like he knows his favorite book, which means patron shots were definitely the way to ease your broken heart.

He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t tell you to run the story back for him. He just wanted to see you smile and enjoy today…only those patron shots turned into a chocolate martini and two glasses of mimosas hours later. He knows he’ll have to scrap you up off the floor later, but if he is forced to do that, plus curb the hard-on struggling against his suit slacks as he watches you dance, he’ll do that. After all, you deserve to be happy.

He decides to attempt to distract himself again by turning to Fatgum, averting his eyes from the arousing scene. “So how’s it feel to be a married man now?” He asks, nodding at Fathom’s wedding band. “Do you feel any differently?”

Fatgum looks at him with a happy gleam in his eye. “To be honest with you, Hawks, not really,” he sheepishly replies. "It feels great to finally be married to the one I love more than anyone in this world, but the way I feel for Haruko wouldn’t have changed even without a ring.” He looks down at his wedding band, a small, adoring smile on his lips. “I guess I thought a ring would’ve made it more real, you know?”

Keigo doesn’t know. He couldn’t think of knowing…at least that’s what he tells himself. However, the image of you in a wedding dress walking down the aisle is a little too vivid for him. The only one he’s ever loved is you, but none of that could ever see the light of day. It’d ruin everything.

So he gives Fatgum a smile and pretends that he knows exactly what he’s talking about. “Well, if you ask me, it looked real from the very start,” he chuckles.

Fatgum gives him a grateful smile, a twinkle in his eye. Keigo envies him. How would it feel to feel so deeply about someone who feels the same about you so openly? Fatgum and Haruko looked so in love today. Every time they looked at each other, even when the other wasn’t looking, Keigo saw nothing but acceptance, adoration, and pure love. It is hard not to be jealous of such a thing.

“Girls, girls!” Yu suddenly hollers, red in the face and obviously gone off the champagne. She runs onto the dance floor towards you and Rumi, her overexcited behavior causing you to stop dancing. ”Haruko is about to throw the bouquet!”

Keigo looks towards where Yu is pointing and surely enough, Haruko is standing near the snack table where a crowd of women have begun to surround her, just as excited. Something about seeing Haruko, so happy and giggly, in her wedding dress and Fatgum smiling at her with such love in his eyes does something to Keigo.

Fatgum’s haunting words from his bachelor party come back to him, rising out of the fog in his tipsy mind: ’Those bachelor days won’t last forever…’

Keigo clears his throat, knowing now is the right time to bare himself to his friend. He turns to him, forcing his wings to not tremble. “Hey, listen; I’m sorry for what happened at your bachelor party…you know, when we were playing pool at the bar. I didn’t–”

“Stop.” Fatgum’s voice is firm but not unkind. He gives Keigo a reassuring smile, the sunset in his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for, Hawks. You have your opinion and I’ve got mine. I’m just glad you’re here and showed up for me as my best man.” He pats Keigo on the shoulder with his big hand. “When Y/N comes down off her high, thank her for coming too.”

“You’re leaving?” Keigo curiously asks. Fatgum gives him a mischievous smirk. “After Haruko throws the bouquet and I get my hands on that garter, hell yeah. Speaking of which…” He pulls on Keigo’s arm, walking him farther away from the crowd that has begun to grow around Haruko. “You might wanna stand back.”

Keigo is glad Fatgum saved him because he definitely would’ve gotten trampled by the slew of screaming guests wanting their chance at catching Haruko’s bouquet. Among them are you, Nemuri, Yu, and Rumi, excitedly jumping up and down as Haruko turns around to toss the bouquet of flowers behind her. As soon as they go flying, the crowd reacts, jumping as high as they can to catch it.

You prove to be victorious when the bouquet tumbles in the middle of the crowd and you snatch it up, nearly losing a shoe. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” you practically scream, excitedly jumping up and down.

While half of the guests applaud you and the others give you dirty looks, Keigo silently stares at you with the bouquet in your hands. That image of you gliding down the aisle in your wedding dress comes back to him again like a nagging mosquito, pestering him further. What bothers him even more is the look he’s picturing on your face: so full of love; a mirror of Fatgum’s expression when he looked at Haruko walking down the aisle. It is so vivid that it frightens him.

“Keigo?” a small voice asks behind him. The man nearly has a heart attack when he turns around and sees Sakura standing there. He realizes that Fatgum is gone and the bouquet crowd has dispersed, leaving him standing there like an idiot staring at you. God, he's down bad.

“Hey, babe, you’re up!” he chirps, moving to kiss Sakura’s forehead which he notices feels heated and clammy. “Everything alright?”

Sakura had been sleeping in one of the extra tents for the majority of the wedding after her third glass of champagne. Keigo figured he’d just let her rest while he acted a fool for the rest of the event until it ended. “I feel awful,” she groans, putting a hand on her stomach. “My nap was interrupted by my stomach. That lobster I ate must not be settling right.”

Keigo’s brain pedals back to Sakura’s plate which consisted of a side salad, pasta, and lobster meat slathered in butter and lemon. “Aw, shit, babe,” he coos empathetically. He moves toward her, wanting to gather her up in a hug. “I’m so-“

“Keigo!” Rumi shouts, from the dance floor. She has an empty glass in her hand and is barefoot. “They’re playing your song!” The song in question is from Rihanna’s ANTI album and the way he watches you twirl your ass and hips around makes him love it even more. His eyes flick back to Sakura’s, feeling horribly guilty and disgusted with himself. He shouldn’t be gawking at a whole other woman, especially his best friend.

Sakura gives him a reassuring smile, nudging him towards the dance floor. “Go on and have fun. I’ll be fine.” But he refuses, shaking his head. “You won’t be fine to me until I know you’re home safe,” he firmly says, already taking her hand to lead her to the parking lot. “Here, I’ll drive you home. It’s no problem.”

“But you’re still having fun here,” she protests, slipping her hand out of his grasp. “Don’t let me ruin tonight for you just because I’m feeling sick, Keigo. Seriously, go have fun. I’ll call you when I get in the Uber I’m gonna order.”

The sound of your high-pitched laugh drifts in the air, making Keigo’s heart pick up speed. Though Sakura is giving him permission to go and have fun, he’d feel even more like a horrible person and boyfriend if he were to listen to her.

“Nah, fuck that,” he huffs stubbornly. As a waitress walks by with a tray of plates and glasses, he snatches up a water bottle and hands it to Sakura. “Stay here for a minute and drink that.”

He doesn’t wait for Sakura to agree or protest before rushing over to the dance floor where his four friends are still acting up. “Hey, you crackheads gonna leave soon so the cleaning crew can do their job?” he hollers. You pout at him cutely, a glass in one hand and Haruko’s bouquet in the other.. “But the music is still going!” you whine in protest.

“Only ‘cause you’re still here, baby bird. All four of you.” He nods at you, Rumi, Nemuri, and Yu–all equally as drunk and in need of sleep. “The reception is over anyway. Haven’t you noticed the dance floor emptying out or were you too busy tossin’ out your best stripper moves?”

You begin to look around in a daze, realizing that the staff is cleaning up and guests are beginning to head to the parking lot. Rumi giggles, nudging her hip with yours. “The birdie’s right, y’all. I noticed the place has been getting kinda dry ever since the cake was sliced and the bouquet was thrown.”

“Which I’ve still got!” you proudly yell, waving the flowers around. “Which means I’m gonna eventually find a love that I’ll marry and the rest of you single bitches can kiss my black ass.” You take a handful of your ass in your dress and squeeze it, making the girls giggle and Keigo want to kill himself. Why the fuck do you have to be so goddamn fine?

“So what do we do now?” Rumi asks. “Just go home and wallow in our depression?”

“That could be an option,” Keigo chuckles, “but I was suggesting we take this party somewhere else. Preferably a nightclub downtown. Anybody down?”

Your entire face changes as you gape at him at the sound of more partying. “Yes!” you excitedly shout, jumping up and down with your bouquet. “I need to shake my ass some more!”

Nemuri sighs tiredly, her arms wrapped around Yu’s waist. “As much as I’d love to join, but I need to get this one home.” She smiles at Yu who looks like she’s about to drop, her head against Nemuri’s shoulder. “Plus, I’m in need of my beauty sleep,” she yawns, putting a dainty hand to her open mouth.

“And I’m in need of finally getting my hands on that guitarist,” Rumi purrs, eyeing the same short-haired, Amazonian woman with the perky ass and dark skin she’s been lying up all day who is currently packing her electric guitar away with the wedding band.

“Say no more,” Keigo snickers. “Guess this is where we say goodnight, ladies?” Nemuri blows him a kiss while Rumi gives him a tight hug. “Try not to get in too much trouble, okay?” she laughs with a wink.

She turns to you, pointing a finger at you. “And you…be careful with that bouquet.” That obviously means for you to be on your best behavior too. You just giggle which gives Keigo the impression that you’ll be doing none of that.

Once the crew finally disbands for the evening, you come walking up to him, stumbling a bit as you do. Instantly, he grabs your arm and hooks it through his to steady you. He doesn’t need you falling and busting up your (pretty) face. “Soooo when we goin’?” you cutely ask, a small hiccup in your voice.

“Lemme drive Sakura home and I can drive us there afterward.” He doesn’t say anything else as he escorts you over to Sakura who is still standing in the same spot he left her in. “Got somebody carpooling with us, babe!” he cheerfully states, walking you over to Sakura. She smiles at you, sipping on an ice-cold Ginger Ale can that he definitely didn’t give her. “Where’d you get that Ginger Ale?” he curiously asks.

“Oh, your friend gave it to me,” she happily replies. “Snipe!” She points over to the snack table where guests are busy stuffing their takeout containers full of leftovers. Sure enough, pro hero Snipe is over there, wearing his mask and a cowboy hat with his navy blue wedding suit, stuffing a container full of shrimp.

Keigo bites the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should say something. He’s never had an issue with Snipe and this could’ve been purely innocent, but why he decided to talk to his girlfriend now while he wasn’t with her doesn’t rub him the right way. “C’mon, you two,” he grumbles, wrapping his arms around you and Sakura and quickly escorting you away from the wedding.

The ride to Sakura’s apartment is surprisingly smooth and quick despite it being a Friday night. When he rolls up to her building and parks, he tells you to stay up and walks Sakura up to the steps to the lobby door despite her protests. He stays at the bottom steps, watching over her as she digs into her clutch for her keys. “You sure you’re okay with gettin’ inside?” he worriedly asks.

She looks down at him, the soft glow of the apartment building lights illuminating her pink hair and eyes. I’m perfectly okay with unlocking my own door, babe,” she giggles. “Now go shake your tail feather with Y/N.”

He cracks a smile at her little joke and gives her a kiss on the cheek before she walks into the lobby. “Call me if you need anything, alright?” he calls after her, only to get a wave in response. When she finally disappears inside the building, he walks back to his car and slips into the driver’s seat.

You’re sitting in the passenger’s seat, feet up on the dashboard, and chomping down on leftover wedding cake. “She okay?” you ask, looking concerned.

Keigo nods, strapping himself in. “Just a stomach bug; nothing to worry your drunk ass about. All you need to worry about is havin’ some fun with your very best friend.” He pokes at your forehead and laughs when you swat at him.

“So where are we goin’ anyway?” you curiously ask, a small, excitable smile adoring your glossy, plump lips.

Keigo just grins at you before starting the car.

************

When Keigo finally pulls up to his favorite downtown nightclub, the place is completely packed.

Clubhouse, one of Keigo's favorite nightclubs, is one of the most high-end places that Musutafu has to offer. Located in a five-star hotel, it comes with the best customer and bottle services, great music, and security guards who take the privacy of pro heroes very seriously, as does the manager. Keigo knows the guy. He had saved his life after a couple of stupid kids tried to rob the joint a year ago. Since then, he gets free bottle service and a free hotel room if he doesn't feel like flying or driving home after a nightly romp.

He has spent a few nights at the five-star hotel he pulls up to…okay, maybe more than a few. He’s told you many of these stories that ended in drunk sex and waking up in a hotel suite, not remembering much that happened that night before. You also know he enjoys this spot over others because of the infinity pool they have on the rooftop that you have yet to take a dip in.

Hopefully, tonight, once the liquor starts talking, that will change.

The club is jumping once Keigo parks in the valet and escorts you inside the five-star hotel. Stretching over three stories high with balconies, stairways upstairs to the bars, and crystal chandeliers, he can see bodies from head to toe. Shadows dance on the walls, illuminated by the strobe lights flashing in time with the pop music blasting from overhead.

He can feel his heart pound and his stomach jump excitedly with the vibrations of the music and the sparklers he sees bottle girls carry with them on trays of the most expensive vodka for parties of four and five.

He is completely in his element while, unbeknownst to him, you feel out of place. “Okaaay, birdie,” he whistles, an easy smile on his face. “So we’re here…now what?”

He turns to you, noticing the frown on your face. “I have no idea,” you admit sheepishly. “It’s like now that I’m sobering up, I’m less hype to be here.”

Keigo tuts disappointedly, taking your hand in his and ignoring the way his body sings at your touch. “That ain’t no good. Come on.”

He escorts you through the throng of bodies, ignoring the folks who gape and gawk at him. The most he’s gotten here are people begging for pictures and autographs, plus the occasional groupie. But other than that, he’s never had any trouble here. He knew it was the perfect place to bring you to get over your heartbreak.

He leads you over to the bar and settles down next to you in a booth. “Bartender!” he hollers, waving him over.

The young man turns to him, looking bored out of his mind before he gets a look at Keigo’s face. “Yeah, it’s me, Hawks pro hero number two, nice to meet ya.” He flashes him a big, gigawatt grin. “Listen, can I get a round of tequila shots?”

The bartender vigorously nods. “And for your girlfriend, sir?” he curiously asks. Keigo almost asks the guy what the hell he’s talking about until he realizes that he means you.

You stare at each other, both shocked. “O-Oh, no, we’re not…” You trail off, your words dying in the tense air around you. Keigo can’t speak, his mouth too dry to do so. “H-He’s just my friend,” you softly stammer. “Just a Sex on the Beach for me.”

He tries not to let on how much that stung him: he’s just my friend. But that’s what he is, isn’t he? That’s what he's always been.

You go to take out your wallet, but like the good friend he is, he pushes your hand away. “Uh-uh, put it back,” he sternly says. “Your date just left you at a wedding, baby bird. The least I can do is pay for your drink.”

He pulls out fifty and hands it to the bartender who hurries to get your orders. “I still can’t believe he did that,” you sigh, disheartened. “All I wanted was to try and spice things up for us sexually, and…” You put a hand to your chin, staring off into the distance, your mind somewhere else.

“So what exactly happened?” he softly asks, trying to pull you back to reality. With him. “If you feel like talking, that is.”

You surprisingly budge. “I asked Rumi for advice on how to make our sex better, so she suggested either spicing things up with some kinks I enjoy or talking to him about what I like.”

You cross your gorgeous legs on the stool and Keigo has to force himself to keep his eyes firmly on yours. “I’d figured a quickie would’ve been fun, but he wasn’t with it, and my drunk ass took that as an insult, so I asked for a break.”

“Did you break up with him?” he asks, hoping to God you’ll say yes. Only because Red is such a dickhead. You look away, staring instead at the polished mahogany of the bar. “Not…technically…”

Keigo scowls at your cryptic answer. “Da fuck’s that mean?” he scoffs, confused. You flush under the strobe lights, tapping your acrylic nails against the bar. “I asked for a break at least until the Gala since he’s so hellbent on getting his award. I didn’t want to distract him from his work.”

“Distract him?” he parrots, the words tasting sour to him. “Y/N, if he barely has time for you because he’s too busy trying to win a fuckin’ award, then he has no busy dating you, period. He doesn’t even realize what he’s got.” You smile shyly at his words, but he is being deadass with you. He could’ve shaken you right then. Why don't you understand how special you are?

“So now you’re single…for now, at least?” he questions, doing his best to not sound hopeful or completely interested in your dating life. Your shoulders slump as you cup your cheek in your hand, your pretty lips pouting. “I guess so. Maybe I should just get like Rumi and just sleep with whoever for the hell of it.”

He smacks the bar, encouraging your sexual liberation. “That’s the spirit!” he encourages. The bartender returns with your drink and the round of tequila shots. “Oh, look; your drink! Be careful with this one. It’s fruity and sweet so you may wanna drink it less like it’s water.”

You do so, sipping slowly on your Sex on the Beach. As soon as the liquid hits your tongue, your eyes adorably widen. “Mmm!” you hum, eyes blown and face written in joy. “Holy fuck, this is amazing!”

You wave down the bartender, animately waving your arm around. “Bartender, gimme another one of these!” Keigo stares at you, doing his best to hold back a grin. “What?” you scoff. “I’m single and sad, okay? Let me have fun!”

He raises his hands in defense. “I didn’t say anything,” he snickers. He then passes you a shot glass and picks up his own, raising it. “To complicated relationships.” You nod, giggling tipsily. “And fuck love!” you shout before downing your shot. Keigo does the same, downing his shot and letting the tequila burn his throat before he sucks on the lime it comes with.

For the next hour, you’re downing shots and sipping on your two Sex on the Beaches like it’s no one’s business. Of course, Keigo makes sure you take a couple sips of water in between your alcohol splurging, but even he is starting to feel the buzz of the tequila as he gives you side glances here and there, checking you out. Your legs and chest are starting to look way too good, and his cock agrees–he’s been trying to curb the boner he is sporting for the past hour now.

When you start to feel real good and loose, one of your favorite 2000s Rihanna songs starts playing from overhead, and the vibe in the club completely shifts. You gasp happily, hopping off of your stool. “Oooh, this is my shit!” you squeal, already moving onto the dance floor. “Kei, come dance with me!”

You grab his hand and try to pull him over to the dancing bodies on the floor, but he barely budges. “Nah, but I’ll watch in case I need to drag you out of there.”

You pout but wave him off and go off to dance alone. He watches you walk away from the sidelines, drinking in how your ass sways and bounces as you strut. When you start to dance, he just about has a heart attack. He can’t keep his eyes off of your hips, legs, or the curve of your back. Not to mention the way you bounce and twirl that ass of yours.

He inhales deeply, doing his best to keep calm, but it feels as if he’s about to explode. How dare you be so fucking sexy? What the fuck is your problem?

He is so thankful when his phone vibrates in his pocket because he can’t promise he wouldn’t have tried to jump you on the dance floor. He slides his phone out of his pocket and grins at the caller ID, answering it without a second thought. “Well, I didn’t think I’d hear your lovely voice tonight,” he cheerfully says, grinning from ear to ear.

“Now you got somethin’ to nut to later,” Dabi chuckles in his gravelly, deep tone. “I’ve been told my voice is a panty dropper.”

“Well, for the chicks who dig chain smokers, sure,” Keigo wittily replies, earning a guttural laugh from Dabi in response. “What are you callin’ me for? You got your perks back?”

“For my free days, no, and they cut my phone calls short since they’re still investigating that riot.” Dabi sighs, evidentially frustrated. “I got about ten minutes left. You still at the wedding? Where’s Y/N and Rumi at?”

Keigo turns to you, ignoring the way you swirl your hips or how you’d look on top of him. “Y/N, it’s Dabi on the phone!” he calls to you over the music before speaking to Dabi again. “We left and we’re at a club. Rumi couldn’t hang, so it’s just me and Y/N.”

You skip over to him, your gorgeous titties bouncing and braids swaying down your back. “Dabi!” you scream into the phone, no doubt taking Dabi’s eardrum out. “Oh, my God, Dabi, I miss you soooo much! You’re such a dick for not bein’ here!”

“Jesus, girl, you’ve been drinking?” Dabi questions, and Keigo pictures him rubbing at his ear that you just screamed into.

You giggle hysterically, nodding despite him not being able to see you. “Yes, sir! Since the reception ended!” When the music transitions to Beyoncé’s Virgo’s Groove, you just about have a heart attack. “Kei, you have to dance with me! They’re playing Renaissance tracks!” You tug on his arm to no avail before running back to the floor like a fire lit under your ass.

“She’s on the dance floor now,” Keigo sighs. “The girl is a fuckin’ wreck tonight.”

Dabi chuckles into the phone. “I’m guessing things didn’t go well with the bum she’s been laggin’ around?” It isn’t a secret that Dabi hates Rei’s guts too; he’s just more open about it because Dabi don’t give a fuck.

“I’ll let her tell you, but to put it bluntly, yeah,” Keigo replies. “So now she’s here, single with her back and legs out.”

That back where he’d love to run his tongue down your spine, caressing the soft skin that contrasts with his own. And those legs that he wants wrapped tight around his waist as he strokes the gummy walls of your pussy, pushing you further into euphoria until you explode all over him.

Dabi snorts to himself, finding Keigo’s dilemma funny. “So which do you want?” he asks. “The back or the legs?”

Keigo blushes red, glad for the dimness of the club. “Shut up,” he growls. “You know I’m seeing someone right now.”

Dabi scoffs at this, calling it bullshit as he usually does. “Someone you barely talk about and that I’m sure you barely think about. When the fuck are you gonna bite the bullet and stop beating around the bush with her, man?”

Keigo pinches the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want a lecture. Not right now. “Dabi, you know better than anyone why I can’t do that. We’ve been friends since middle school. I can’t just tell her all of that shit. Plus, Y/N is in a vulnerable space right now. I’m just here to comfort her.” He would never forgive himself if he let his dirty thoughts make a horrible decision for him and possibly ruin your friendship.

He looks at you now to ensure you’re okay, but is utterly confused and alarmed to find someone from the crowd watching you too. He wears a button-down that is way too tight for him and stands a good foot taller than Keigo. His eyes are lecherous and greedy as he watches you move to the music like water, your moves effortless and enchanting.

“Kei, you there?” Dabi asks. “Bitch, you’d better not have hung up on me.”

Keigo doesn’t answer, too hyper-focused on the wolf stalking its prey. That prey being you, his beautiful best friend. Once he sees him move through the throng of people to get you, Keigo is bothered. "Hold up, Dabs. I’ve gotta go.”

“Someone’s tryna shoot their shot at her, aren’t they?” Dabi asks, not even needing any confirmation. He just knows Keigo like that. “Send a picture to me when you’re done with ‘em.”

Keigo hangs up without replying and immediately stalks onto the dance floor. As he does, he watches the stranger brush your waist much to Keigo’s dislike. You jump and turn to him, looking alarmed despite his big grin. Your mouth moves to say something, probably a polite decline to his offer, but the stranger continues to push and even takes your hand in his.

Keigo is seeing red. How dare he touch you? When he is finally a foot away from you is when he starts to hear your conversation in full. “C’mon, baby, what’s the problem?” the stranger asks, still wearing that stupid, predatory smile. “You’ve been dancing like you need something in you anyway!”

You glare at his nasty words, your hand balling into a fist. “I told you I’m not interested,” you snarl at him, yanking your hand free. “Leave me alone.”

The fucker still doesn’t take that as an answer and continues to bother you, and Keigo. “Can’t I just get one dance?” he asks. He even pushes up on you, trying to take your hand again.

You’ve just about had it and roughly shove him back away from you. “I said leave me alone, asshole!” you snap at him, alarming the rest of the club hoppers surrounding you. The man’s face is written in annoyance before it morphs into a rage that is only caused by rejection.

There is no doubt in Keigo’s mind that this man will possibly hurt you. He steps in before he can be proven right. “Hey,” he sternly says, his tone on the edge of a warning. He wedges himself between you and the man, his wings blocking you from his angered view. “She said to leave her alone. I suggest you listen.”

The man’s eyes widen in recognition and then he begins to laugh. “You’re with him? Hawks?” He says it like he can’t believe it, even laughing to himself. “Shit, I didn’t know you were his already!” he guffaws despite your discomfort. He goes to pat Keigo on the arm but Keigo dodges his touch. “Hey, man, you’ve got a loyal bitch on your arm. You really must be paying good for that pussy.”

That’s all it takes for Keigo to lose his cool. All self-control begins to unravel and he feels himself shifting from the cool, calm, and collected Hawks into someone else. Someone who is less willing to reason or let things go. His wings, glowing crimson red in the strobe lights, puff up and ruffle as if someone is running their hands through them and his eyes go dark.

You, the asshole, and every single witness surrounding him react with shared alarm, realizing that what may take place on the dance floor tonight won’t be a friendly dance battle.

Keigo begins to close the gap between himself and the man until their noses are nearly brushing. The man is too afraid to move. “Listen, dickhead,” he growls, his voice dangerously low. “you caught me on a good night since a friend of mine just got married, but lemme give you some advice: you shouldn’t talk like that about people you don’t know, especially women. You best realize who the fuck you’re talking to.”

His feathers ruffle once more, making the man flinch. “I think you need to leave ‘cause you’re startin’ to really piss me off,” he whispers sinisterly.

Before the man can reply, Keigo moves away and takes your hand in his, about to whisk you away from the BS. Whether he felt embarrassed and is trying to save face, or because he likes ruffling Keigo's feathers, the asshole speaks again. “I can see why you went for her in the first place,” he cackles. “I’d kill to take that body home with me.”

Keigo stops, his body tense. Your hand grips his and he looks down at you, seeing how big your eyes are. ‘Don’t,’ they read.

He is willing to listen and let this shit go for you, until the dickhead opens his mouth yet again. “Just don’t let her out of your sight!” the man yells. "Bitches like her always go for the next dick.”

Then all Keigo sees is red like a bull and goes haywire. He zooms past everyone and everything at the speed of light and is on top of the man immediately. The crowd shouts in shock and disperses as he lays one fist after another in the man's face, drawing blood from his lips and mouth. “Keigo!” you shout, your voice high and shrill with fear. “Keigo, stop it!”

He ignores you, too focused on making the man feel pain for what the nasty things he said. For being disrespectful. “I just said to watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he snarls through gritted teeth. “You know who the fuck you’re talkin’ to? That’s my fuckin’ friend, you stupid bitch.”

His voice is low––lower than he’s ever heard it before. He doesn’t think he has ever been this angered before at anyone. But this asshole crossed the line. He doesn’t play about any of his friends, but especially you. You’re different.

His fist continues to collide with the man’s nose again and again until he hears a crunching nose followed by a gurgle of pain. Blood splatters onto Keigo’s shirt but he doesn’t care. He can’t stop even if he wants to. It’s like a blood-thirsty switch has flipped inside of him. He suddenly feels your hands on his shoulders, yanking on him tightly. “Keigo, please stop!” you beg, trying in vain to pull him off. “Stop! You’re gonna kill him!”

“What’s going on here?” a booming voice demands. Keigo is suddenly yanked off of the bloodied man by two large hands belonging to a security guard. He scowls at the asshole and Keigo, looking pissed that he has been bothered with this.

Keigo yanks himself out of his grasp and takes your side. “This prick was harassing my friend after she told him to leave her alone,” he growls, still staring at the asshole like he wasn’t finished with his face…and he wasn’t.

Though the man is bleeding profusely from his nose and his busted lip, and his eyes are completely swollen, the guard is taking no mercy on anyone. “She can stay,” he says, nodding at you before scowling at Keigo and the man. “But you’re both gonna have to leave.”

The man gapes at the guard, anger written across his busted face. “But he–” Before he can protest, the guard takes hold of him and practically drags him towards the exit. “Hey!” he shouts. “Get off of me! I have rights!”

His shouts fade into the music as he is swallowed by the crowd that now stare in utter shock at Keigo. His anger has now faded, replaced with a feeling of discomfort and exhaustion at being around so many people.

He turns to you, grabbing your hand. “Come on,” he whispers, already pulling you off the dance floor and towards one of the exits. He pushes it open, leading you two out into the side valet where he is sure his car is. He lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding as he presses his back against the club wall, letting the cool air caress his sweaty skin. “A-Are you okay?” you suddenly softly stammer, as if afraid to speak.

Realizing what just happened, he quickly returns his attention to you and ensures himself of your safety. “I should be askin’ you that,” he replies worriedly. “You alright? He didn’t hurt you?” You quickly shake your head, still looking shaken by the whole ordeal. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I almost lost it there.”

Actually, he did lose it completely, but he didn’t kill the guy, thank God. He takes his hands in yours, squeezing them. “I just care a lot about you,” he softly confesses, not sure why he says it so secretively and blushes when he does.

Immediately, he releases your hands and adverts his gaze though you continue to stare at him. He feels as if you’re staring straight through him into his soul, examining all of his secrets and words left unsaid.

“Kei…” Your words are soft, your name no more than a whisper on your lips. Keigo tenses, afraid of what may come next. However, nothing could possibly prepare him for what comes out of your pretty mouth next.

You stand in the moonlight, looking like a damn Goddess that he almost forgets you’re you–his very best friend. “Do you wanna come swimming with me?” you softly ask, your words nearly getting swallowed up by the muffled music and Friday night traffic.

But Keigo hears you loud and clear. And unbeknownst to you, you could’ve asked him to go to the goddamn moon with you, and he’d say yes.

#friends to lovers #keigo takami x black reader #hawks x black reader #feral hawks is the only hawks #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #bnha smut #my fic shit #black coded reader #keigo takami #my works #hawks smut

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cypherverze · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER SEVEN

Hardest Part of Ending is Starting Again

an avengers x john wick crossover fanfic

You can access the previous chapter here: Chapter Six | Series Masterlist Access

PAIRINGS: avengers x teen!reader (platonic) , tony stark x niece!reader , john wick x daughter!reader , peter parker x female!reader

SUMMARY: After arriving in Venice, Italy to meet the one and only Nick Fury who had asked for your assistance in the current mission, you find it really hard to trust the person that you’re helping.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hello! here’s chapter seven. sorry it took some time to be posted, i was just not really feeling well. not feeling well in life and general, i had also decided to cross post this on my wattpad account. the next chapter will be taking a long time to be posted since i’ll be posting the rest of the chapters on my wattpad account. if you want to check it out in wattpad, my username is @/cypherverze. i tweaked the movie, if you had noticed. i think that this will be a long series story, since a lot of stuff will be happening.

please excuse the typos if ever you found any. likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated. thank you so much for liking and supporting my work!

REMINDERS: this story is pure fiction. i do not own the characters of avengers, spider-man, and john wick franchise. this work is originally written by the author (me), please do not copy or repost my work in other platforms.

WARNINGS: foul language, mention of guns and death

WORD COUNT: 5,600

You bid Happy goodbye and stepped out of the private jet, you had your cases and duffel bag with you, and you’re already wearing the mask that Tony had made. Happy will be going back to New York for the meantime, leaving you in Italy with Fury’s guidance. But he made sure that you’ll call him the moment that the mission is over, since he doesn’t want to face Tony’s wrath. You made your way towards a corner, in one of the alley, and saw Fury waiting for you.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Fury said, looking at you unamused.

“Isn’t this a SHIELD agenda? You remember that I don’t want to get involve in any other way with your business. So if I’m going to be assisting you with something, the mask stays.” Fury nodded at you, “So what do you need me for?”

“We can discuss it further later on. Follow me, and let’s get you settled in. We need to pick someone up right after.” You nodded and followed Fury in an alley, leading into an underground cave.

“Huh, it’s cool that you had built a makeshift camp here. Looks so neat.” You looked around the cave in fascination.

When you entered, you saw Maria Hill and Dmitri nodding at you as a greeting. You dropped your stuff on the ground, and you noticed a person that’s wearing a golden armor with a pink cape and a fishbowl helmet, which is you find a bit odd. You tilted your head a bit, looking at the weird person, until the fishbowl helmet came off, revealing a man. He walked towards you and Fury, introducing himself to you.

“Hi, I’m Quentin Beck, you can just call me Quentin.” He held out his hand for you to shake.

Somehow you got the feeling that this man cannot be trusted, you feel iffy about him. Your intuition is never wrong, you always go with your intuition and never doubting it. But for the sake of humanity’s safety, you’ll give this man the benefit of the doubt and just keep everything to yourself for the meantime. Besides, you can’t really accuse him of something without any proof, you’ll look like a fool if you accuse him of being suspicious as your reason, but nevertheless, you’re onto him. He’s a good looking man, you’ll give him that, but you’ll be watching him like a hawk.

“Thalia.” You said as you grabbed his hand and shook it.

Like hell you’ll tell this man your real name, he already gives you an off vibe. There’s no way in hell this man would find out your real name. Fury had also smiled softly at you, he knew very well how little you trust other people, especially people that you had just met that had set you off in a not pleasant way.

“You can take off your mask.” He turned to you.

“Thank you, but the mask stays.” Fury can’t do anything about it, so he respected your decision and just nodded.

“Thalia here will be assisting us on this mission and will be helping me in bringing in the last person that will help us.”

You got settle in and fixed your things in a corner, you loaded up a few gun and tucked them under your coat. You had also been briefed of what is currently happening and what you all are up against—elementals. After the quick briefing, Fury had called for you, and motioned you to follow him, the both of you exiting the cave and heading to towards the boat that you’ll be riding to pickup the person that he metioned earlier.

“Here, you’ll be needing this.” Fury said as he handed you a tranquilizer gun and grabbed it, placing it inside your coat.

You both arrived at the hotel and head down the boat, you two entered the hotel where Peter and the rest of the class had been staying in. The hotel was kind of a bit flooded inside, where anyone can possibly get a leptospirosis if someone is stupid enough to walk barefoot inside—you can’t help but shiver at the thought. You were able to get across the water by walking on the wooden plank that had been placed by the hotel’s management.

There was no sign yet of the class being back, so you assumed that they’re still outside exploring the area. The person at the reception area hadn’t noticed you coming in as well since the person was too busy doing something to notice you, probably noting that you’re a guest that had been checked in. Fury already knew which room that Peter was staying in, and he had motioned you to unlock the door, both letting yourselves inside.

Fury sat on the couch that was near the door and you stood beside him. The area where the couch was placed is a bit dark, so no one will notice the both of you when people come in. You were just observing the room, taking in the slightly dingy place, when you heard series of voices right outside of the room, notifying you and Fury that they are already here.

“What are you gonna do about the water monster?” The voice was a bit muffled, but you knew that it was Ned talking.

“Nothing. It’s dead, and besides, that Mysterio guy’s all over it. Look, I just wanna spend some time with MJ. We were talking about Paris, and I think she really likes me.” Peter’s voice became louder as he and Ned approached and entered the room.

“That’s nice. Reminds me of when Betty and I first fell in love. I had just finished my fruit cobbler, right, and-“

Before Ned can finish what he’s saying, you had shot him right in the neck with the tranquilizer, causing him to immediately fall on the floor. You put back the tranquilizer gun inside your coat.

“You’re a very difficult person to contact, Spider-man.” Fury said, as Peter turned towards the both of you, eye widened in shock.

“You’re Nick Fury…and your agent just shot Ned.” Peter said in disbelief.

You walked towards Ned and lifted him up, with Peter helping you and placing Ned right on the bed. You didn’t notice that Peter had recognized your watch, the watch your father always wear, and now you always wear—that’s when he realized that it was actually you. You went back to Fury’s side and just stood there, staring at Peter.

Peter wondered what you were doing—being with Nick Fury of all people. He’s aware that SHIELD knows you, but he doesn’t know how deep that goes and the close bond you share with Nick Fury. He knows very well your stance against being involved with anyone, especially the avengers, and now with SHIELD.

“Thalia, meet spider-man. Spider-man, meet Thalia.” Fury introduced you both, and you nod at Peter. “Thalia had shot Ned with a mild tranquilizer, he’ll be all right. It is good to finally meet you.”

“Uh, you too.” Peter replied nervously.

“But enough with the introductions, I know that you know me, and the important thing is you’re here. I tried to bring you here but avoided me, and now you’re here. What a coincidence.”

“Wait. Was this a coincidence?” Peter looked at Fury, an eyebrow raised at him.

“I don’t really appreciate it when someone dodges my calls, especially knowing that the one’s dodging my calls is a high school kid. Let me give you a quick run through of what had happened—a week ago, a village in Mexico was wiped out by a cyclone, witnesses say that the cyclone had a face. Three days later, a similar event in Morocco. A village was-“

Fury was cut off when someone knocked on the door, you quickly pulled out your gun pointing it at the door. This time, it was not the tranquilizer anymore, but already an actual gun that can really kill. You kept your gaze remained at Peter, and you saw the panic flashed in his eyes. The one who opened the door was Mr. Harrington, peeking his head inside the room.

“Just making the rounds, see if anyone needs any counseling after today’s traumatic events.” Harrington said.

“No, we’ll be okay! We’re fine. Thank you.” Peter quickly said.

“Great, because I’m not qualified to actually…” He turned his attention towards the bed and saw Ned already sleeping, “Oh, he’s passed out. I’m not qualified to do it anyways, so good night.” Harrington decided to leave and closed the door.

“That was my teacher. Sorry about that. You were saying?” Peter let out a nervous laugh.

“A village was destroyed by what may well be another world threatening-“ Fury was cut off again. Your gun still pointed at the door, never once put it down.

“Babe, you still awake?” You had recognized the voice, it was Betty Brant. “You’re not answering any of my texts.”

You can’t really miss that voice, especially when it’s the one you always hear when you arrive at school and walking along the hallways. The voice was a bit muffled because the sound is being blocked by the door, but you can hear it clearly enough to recognize the owner of the voice.

Who the hell is she calling babe? It’s certainly not Peter.

Then you turn your gaze at Ned’s passed out figure, your eyes widen at the sudden realization.

“Umm, he’s asleep, Betty.”

Betty was calling Ned, babe?! Since when did those two got together?!

“Oh, already?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” You heard Betty leave the door.

“That’s why it’s imperative-“ Fury was cut off, again. You can already feel the frustration radiating off of him, he’s about to flip the fuck out, but you held back his shoulders with your free hand.

“Hey, boys. So that canal water today was filled with dangerous bacteria.” This time, it was Mr. Dell.

“Another person touches that door, Thalia won’t hesitate to shoot them, and you and I are going to end up attending a funeral.” Fury finally having none of it, and stood up. “Suit up.” He firmly said.

“Let me know if you develop vomiting.” Mr. Dell had retreated from the door.

Fury opened the door, and as you were about to follow him, you felt Peter gently grabbed your wrist, and stopping you from following Fury.

“(Y/N), please help me out. I promised myself that I won’t be doing any superhero stuff while on this trip.” He pleaded, “Please. I just really wanted to enjoy this trip without being Spider-man, and I want to seize every moment with MJ.”

You deactivated your mask and stared directly at Peter’s eyes for a while. Goddamn those cute brown eyes—but you quickly snapped yourself back to reality, trying not to get cave into those brown eyes. You do really want to help him out, but you can’t. It’s you versus Nick Fury, and the best choice is that you should pick is Fury. You don’t want to be on the man’s bad side.

“Peter.” You firmly said and sighed, “I’m really sorry…I really do want to help you and be able to enjoy the trip with MJ, but I can’t help you on this one, my hands are tied. Just do what Nick asks of you, and if you do it, the sooner you can finish and spend time with MJ. But until then, you have no choice but to follow him.” You look at him one last time and activated your mask.

You closed the door as you exit the room, and leaned on one of the walls, waiting for Peter to get suited up. Fury was already downstairs, waiting for the both of you by the reception area. You snapped your attention towards the door and saw Peter came out, you motioned him to follow you. You both walked down the flight of stairs towards the reception area in silence, not uttering any word to each other.

The both of you quickly followed Fury towards a boat that was waiting for the three of you by the canals. Fury took control of the both as both you and Peter sat at the back, by the edge of the boat. You deactivated your mask to get some fresh air and maybe enjoy the view that Venice offers during the nighttime.

“Didn’t know you work with SHIELD now.” Peter initiated a conversation.

“I’m not.” He looked at you in confusion, “You do know that I sometimes lend my assistance to the avengers, and that also counts in Fury.” Peter nodded at your reply.

“What’s with the mask and Nick Fury calling you Thalia? Is that kind of your superhero name now?” You laughed at Peter’s response.

“You know very well that I’m far from being a superhero, Peter. I asked uncle Tony to make me this mask, he doesn’t really know the purpose of the mask that he’s making for me, but he knows that I’ll use this mask to get those people that are all after me off of my trail. I’ll be using this as well whenever someone from the team or Nick Fury asks for my assistance. Double purpose.” You chuckled.

“As for Thalia? Hmm, it’s really because of this mask,” You showed Peter. The mask can also be activated without it being attached to the face, “This is the mask of comedy, I assume that you have a knowledge of it. Mask of comedy and tragedy are a symbol of theater—the mask of comedy is known as Thalia, she’s the-“

“The muse of comedy and idyllic poetry. Never really pinned you as a theater girl.” Peter turned and smiled at you, “And with a bit of few stuff that I knew about you, I was expecting for you to pick mask of tragedy.”

“Well, what can I say? There are still a lot of stuff you really don’t know about me, Peter.” You said as you look softly at him.

“In the months that had passed of getting to know you, I do know the basics—how Mr. Stark is your uncle, that your parents are no longer with you. But other than that, I don’t know other deep stuff about you. Why’s that?”

“Why is what?” You looked at him confused.

“Why do you keep people at arm’s length.”

“Ah. It’s better if you knew little stuff about me and you know, less is better. Besides, can’t let people be too attached to me. You don’t have to worry though, you’re a good friend Peter.”

You scoffed at the word friend in your head. You knew that Peter has a lot of questions, but before he can ask them, Fury had announced that you already arrived at the location. You placed back the chip behind your ear and activated your mask. You two followed Fury off the both and walked towards the alley where you had just been earlier, walking through the corridors of the underground vault.

“You can lose the mask, everyone has seen you with it.” Peter looked at you, but you are already looking at him, knowing that Fury was talking about him and not you, “You’d be feigning anonymity and breathing through spandex for no good reason.” You chuckled, you certainly aren’t the one wearing a spandex.

“Piece of advice, don’t trust someone too much because I know you tend to do the a lot and getting hurt right after.” You whispered at Peter, and catching up right after Fury. He just looked at you confused, didn’t know the meaning of what you had just said.

Peter stopped on his tracks and removed the mask, you can’t help but notice the exhaustion masking his face. He began examining the makeshift camp that had been put up by Fury and his team, before Fury calls for him. Deeper inside the cave, the place was loaded with a bunch of spy equipment, hardware, computers and whatnot. It’s basically sort of a special operations covert spy base.

“Over there, we have Maria Hill.” Fury began introducing the team to Peter, and Maria was operating a computer, sparing Peter little attention, “This is Dmitri,” Dmitri, the Russian that was sitting next to Maria, had cocked a crossbow. You noticed that Peter got scared a bit, causing you to let out a quiet chuckle.

“And this is Mr. Beck.” Fury had pointed to a man clad in a gold armor with a pink cape.

“Mysterio?” Peter asked in confusion, he was wondering why Mysterio is there.

“What?” Beck replied.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s just what my friends have been calling you.”

“Well, you can call me Quentin.” Beck stretched out a hand towards Peter and shook their hands, “You handled yourself well out there today. I saw what you did with the tower. We could use someone like you on my world.”

As the two of them converse, you can’t help but observe Beck intently. The odd feeling that you had felt inside of you before, came crawling back again to resurface. You really can’t find any reason at all to trust the man.

“Thanks.” Peter said, but suddenly realizing what Beck had said, “I’m sorry, your world?”

“Mr. Beck is from earth. Just not yours.” Fury explained.

“There are multiple realities, Peter. This is earth dimension 616. I’m from earth 833.”

Beck had positioned himself behind a table, Fury and Peter following him. You just stayed behind Fury, listening silently in the conversation. You just leaned on the wall, observing everything, noticing a bit of mannerisms from every person that is with you in the room, and taking a mental note of it. Those mannerisms can be useful when things go wrong and can use it to your advantage.

“Sorry, you’re saying there’s a multiverse? I thought that was theoretical. That changes how we understand the initial singularity.” Fury and Maria turned towards Peter, a bit confused.

You smiled softly at Peter. You really like it when he babbles stuff, it’s kind lf endearing for you whenever Peter get a bit excited and began spewing information that you even have no idea of. You like watching Peter be in his element where he thrives, you always learn new things through him.

“Your crush is showing and you’re drooling.” Maria said and smirked at she passed by you.

“I am not!” You whisper-yelled at Maria.

“We’re talking about an eternal inflation system. How does that even work with all the quantum? It’s insane.” Peter noticed that Fury and Maria was looking at him with exasperation, “Sorry. It’s really cool.” He apologized quickly. Noticed that he got a bit excited.

“Don’t even apologize for being the smartest one in the room.” Peter smiled broadly at Beck, a bit flattered. Fury scoffing faintly.

“Anyway.” Maria said, as she triggers a holographic projection of the elementals and their origins.

“They were born in stable orbits within black holes. Creatures formed from the primary elements—air, water, fire, and earth. The science division had a technical name. We just called them elementals.” Beck began explaining.

“Versions of them exist across our mythologies.” Maria added.

“Turns out, the myths are real.” Beck supporting what Maria had just said.

“Like Thor. Thor was a myth, now I study him in my physics class.”

“These myths are threats.” Fury chimed in on the conversation.

“They first materialized on my earth many years ago.” A holographic 3D model of Beck’s earth flashed, “We mobilized and fought them, but with each battle, they grew, got stronger. I was part of the last battalion left trying to stop them.”

A wave of fire being shown on the holographic slowly engulfed the planet’s surface, rendering it a barren and charred wasteland.

“All we did was delay the inevitable.” Beck added.

“The elementals are here now, attacking the same coordinates. Our satellites confirm it.” Maria said.

“So thanks Mr. Beck for destroying the other three. There’s only one left—fire.” Fury said.

“The strongest of them all. The one that destroyed my earth. It’s the one that took my family.” Beck said with sadness in his voice.

You rolled your eyes at Beck’s piss poor story, which surely you’re not buying at all. You literally can see through the man, you had taken note of the mannerisms that you had observed from Beck that he does unconsciously, and the wedding ring on Beck’s ring finger was not helping at all.

“I’m sorry.” You heard Peter say.

“It will be in Prague in approximately forty-eight hours.” Maria updated.

“We have one mission, and that is to kill it.” Fury firmly said, turning his attention towards Peter, “And you’re coming with us.”

“I’m sorry, did you say Prague?” Peter glances at you, then at Maria. He’s uncertain whether he had heard Maria right or not, “Um, Mr. Fury, this is all seems like bigtime, you know, huge superhero kind of stuff. And I mean, I’m just a friendly neighborhood spider-man, sir.”

“Bitch please.” Fury was having none of it.

“Sir come on, there’s gotta be someone else you can use. What about the avengers?” Peter turned to look at you, asking silently for some help, but you just shrug your shoulders.

“The avengers are all unavailable right now, they are away on a mission. They can’t be on both places at once.”

“Sir, look, I really wanna help. I do. But if my aunt finds out I left my class trip, she’s gonna kill me.” Peter explained, “And if I’m seen like this in Europe, after the Washington Monument, my class will figure out who I am then, and then the whole world will figure out who I am, and then I’m done.”

“Okay. I understand.” Fury said, which made Peter a bit taken back.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Why don’t you get back before your teachers, who miss you, become suspicious.” Fury smiled knowingly, “Thalia, Dmitri. Take him back to the hotel, please.” He turned to you and you nodded. You straightened yourself, walking towards the exit of the cave, waiting for Peter. Dmitri had already exited the cave, preparing the boat.

“Thank you, Mr. Fury, and good luck.” He prepares to leave, walking past Beck.

“See you, kid.” Beck bid him goodbye.

“Yeah, see you.” Peter replied, “Bye, ma’am.” Bidding goodbye to Maria as well.

Peter walked towards you and you both went out. Heading towards the boat, you sat at the end of the boat again, with Peter sitting right beside you.

“You do know that I can’t help you guys on this one, right?” Peter began speaking, you just listened to him, “I only get one shot to be with MJ, one chance to level up my relationship, and I don’t want to mess it up. I have been planning it the whole trip.” He sighed.

“I know, you’ve said it a bunch of times now, Pete. So many times that my ears are about to fall off.” You joked, “Nick won’t ask for you if you can’t handle the situation. He trusts you, y’know. He sees your potential.”

“I really do want to help, but I can’t.”

“Yeah. You’ve alredy made that clear back at the camp, we can’t really do anything about it now, huh.”

The boat stopped right in front of the hotel. You watched Peter as he got up from the seat and prepared to leave the boat, when he looked at you. Following his actions, he opened his arms, motioning you to go in for a hug.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you soon, probably when we get back in New York.” Peter said as he break the hug.

“Yeah. You go ahead now, have a good night, Peter.” He nodded, “Good luck with MJ.” You sat beside Dmitri as he drove back to the place.

You knew very well that Fury was planning something under his sleeves the moment you saw him smiled. Peter may haven’t noticed Fury’s smile, but you did. You know damn well that Fury won’t take no for an answer, you can confirm that he’s cooking up something for sure.

The whole class was now waiting outside of the hotel for the teachers, they are now getting ready to head to their next country for the school trip, which is Paris—the one that Peter had been looking forward to the most.

“Hey man, are you sure you’re good?” Peter checked up on Ned, following the recent event that happened last night.

“Oh, dude, I’m fine.” Ned assured him.

“Okay. Nice.” Peter was still worried about Ned.

“Okay, don’t worry. Seriously—getting tranq’d in the neck by Nick Fury, probably the coolest thing that ever happened to me anyway.”

“It was his agent that shot you.”

“Still, the orders had been from Nick Fury. So it still cool.”

“It is pretty awesome. Yeah. I’m happy I don’t have to go to Prague.” Then the both of them perform their high-five combo.

“Seriously.”

Mr. Harrington walked out of the hotel, walking past Peter and Ned, and gathering all of the students.

“Good news. We’re going to Prague, huh?” Mr. Harrington announced.

“What? What?!” Peter grasped his hair in frustration.

“Yeah. Tour company just called, and they upgraded us. You should’ve heard me on the phone with them. I really gave them hell.”

“All I heard was crying.” Mr. Dell chimed in.

Mr. Harrington had guided the class towards the direction of where a bus was waiting for them. Dmitri and you are waiting by the entrance of the bus, just waiting for the whole class to board. You were standing there, with your arms crossed on your chest, and wearing your usual whole black outfit—black turtle neck, pants, trench coat, and combat boots. You saw Peter looked at you in disbelief.

“Look at our upgraded ride.” Mr. Harrington said excitedly and you heard a few amazed comments from the students.

“I’m impressed, Mr. Harrington.” Mr. Dell said.

“Oh, come on.” Peter said in exasperation, Ned turning to look at him.

“Peter, w-what’s going on?”

“I think Nick Fury just hijacked our summer vacation, and that’s the one who shot you.” Peter whisper yelled at Ned, and pointed at you.

Mr. Harrington had walked towards you and Dmitri. Introducing himself, but Dmitri remained stoic, but you decided that you’ll be doing the talking to make everyone feel at ease, it’s already weird enough that you’re there with your mask on. The students began piling up inside the bus, it didn’t take any long for the bus to be filled, and you were the last one to enter the bus, following Dmitri. You had sat on the first seat, and began talking to Dmitri a little bit, but your conversation was in Russian, to avoid from being eavesdropped. The both of you would sometimes talk back in the underground camp in Venice, he’s a nice guy, and he has became a brother figure to you.

“Yo, what’s up, Flash Mob? It’s your boy, the big F, cruising through the Alps with my private driver, Dmitri and bodyguard, Thalia.”

Flash had been on livestream ever since the school trip began, and now that you had witnessed it yourself, Flash had never failed to annoy you so much, even back in school. You had been holding everything back from punching his throat to shut up.

“Этот парень когда-нибудь затыкается? Этот парень действительно раздражает меня до чертиков. Я хочу проткнуть ему горло.” You murmured, making Dmitri laugh.

“Почему бы тебе не попробовать, ребенок?”

“Я бы буквально хотел, но не хочу оказаться в тюрьме.” You shrugged, Dmitri just chuckled and turned his attention back on the road.

Meanwhile, Peter was reading an article called “Top 10 Romantic Places in Prague” at his seat, and occasionally glancing at MJ then at you. He wants to move seats, beside you, to ask you what had just happened. He thought that Fury had already understood and agreed that he won’t be able to help on this mission, which he had already made clear a few times. After a few hours of being on the road, Dmitri stops at a gas station.

“Petrol and toilets. Ten minutes!” Dmitri opened the door of the bus, you got out first and the students followed. He motioned you to wait for Peter to come down and direct him to the house that he needs to be in.

“Except you, big guy. You go through there.” You immediately grabbed Peter’s shoulder as soon as he stepped down of the bus.

“W-What?” You put an arm around Peter’s shoulder and walked with him towards the house, opening the door and gently shoving him inside.

You distanced yourself from the house, standing by the bus entrance and watching the house where Peter was in. You saw that Brent Davis had accidentally opened the house that Peter was in. You quickly went towards the house, standing behind Brent unnoticed, you were also able to hear the whole ordeal. Brent had just taken a photo of Peter, almost naked and had threatened Peter that he’ll show the photo to MJ. When Brent had turned around, he collided with your figure. You were standing behind him, arms crossed on your chest in an intimidating stature.

“She deserves what truth?” You eyed him, you voice had intimidated Brent.

“N-Nothing.” You put your hand out to him, motioning him to give his phone to you, “W-What, you can’t do that.”

“I can. You has just taken a photo of someone without their consent and had threatened them to send it to someone. If I were you, I would hand in the phone.”

Brent handed you his phone in defeat, he doesn’t want to anger you any longer. Which is a good choice, because it certainly won’t end well, you don’t want to choke hold or threaten the boy with a knife to his throat. You went through Brent’s phone gallery and deleted the photo of Peter almost naked, and deleted as well the photo from the deleted photos section. You also did a quick background check in case he had stashed a copy of the photo. Once it is cleared, you handed the phone back to Brent, and he quickly left to go back to the bus.

Peter was already looking at you, and he thanked you silently, you nodded back at him. You closed the door, this time you’re guarding the door to avoid what had happened earlier from happening again. Both teachers had called for the students, ten minutes had already passed, ushering them back inside the bus. You were the last one again to enter the bus, turning towards your usual seat, you saw that Peter was sitting on the vacant space on your seat. You tilted your head at him, wondering what he’s doing in your seat, and gave you an awkward wave. You sighed and sat beside him.

“What are you doing in my seat?” You said in monotone.

“H-Hey, I just wanted to thank you for what you did earlier with Brent.” Peter scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, it’s no problem. Who would want their photos to be taken without any consent and be used as a threat.” You shrugged, “Even I wouldn’t want that.”

“Y-Yeah.” Peter muttered, “Thanks again.”

“Well you go enjoy the trip while it last, because as soon as we arrive in Prague, real shit will start.” You leaned back in your seat and decided to closed your eyes and get some rest.

“Do you mind me sitting beside you until we arrive?” Peter turned to look at you, but you just remained in your position.

You were about to ask Peter if he can go back to his original seat, but you don’t want to be rude, and he had beat you to it. Besides, it’s the closest that you can get with Peter.

“Sure, knock yourself out. Just don’t get your drool all over me when you fall asleep.” You chuckled.

After another hour of being on the road, the bus stopped at a luxurious hotel where the class are designated to stay for the whole duration of the trip, or maybe at least Peter had finished the mission. Everyone had exited the bus, except for you and Dmitri, you’ll need to report back to Fury, make sure that everyone had arrived safely at the destination. Peter was the last one to exit the bus, he looked back at you.

“Aren’t you coming?” Peter asked, “Y’know to keep an eye on something?” He added, and you chuckled at him.

“Nah. We need to report back to Nick, and besides, I’ll be seeing you later again in a few hours. Make sure to answer their call this time, Maria and Nick will be checking in on you.” You said.

“A-Alright then.” Peter got down on the bus, looking at you one last time and waving goodbye before following the rest of the class.

“Ребенок, это тот мальчик, о котором ты упоминал раньше? Мальчик, в которого ты влюблен?” Dmitri turned to you, as he closes the bus.

“Да, но это просто глупая влюбленность. Он смотрит на другую девушку.”

You shrug and just sat on one of the seat, looking out at the window. Dmitri decided not to comment on it anymore and just drove back to where Fury had set his camp.

TRANSLATIONS:

“Этот парень когда-нибудь затыкается? Этот парень действительно раздражает меня до чертиков. Я хочу проткнуть ему горло.” - Does this guy ever shut up? This guy really annoys the shit out of me. I want to punch his throat.

“Почему бы тебе не попробовать, ребенок?” - Why don’t you give it a try, kid?

“Я бы буквально хотел, но не хочу оказаться в тюрьме.” - I literally would, but don’t want to end up in jail.

“Ребенок, это тот мальчик, о котором ты упоминал раньше? Мальчик, в которого ты влюблен?” - Kid, is that the boy you mentioned before? The boy you’re in love with?

“Да, но это просто глупая влюбленность. Он смотрит на другую девушку.” - Yeah. But it’s just a silly crush. He has his eyes set on a different girl.

TAG LIST:

@sirimiripetrichor @nimo-jay @preciousbabypeter @graysonmalik2550 @khaleesihavilliard

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random-mailbox · 1 year

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Random-Mailbox's Favorite Sailor Moon Fics - Week 35 - Medical Assistance

Since it is nurses week, it felt like the right timing to post about "Medical Assistance". This post is a lengthier one and is a mix of multi-chapters and one-shots with both Mamoru and Usagi taking on the role of the helper to each other and those around them.

As always, my apologies in advance for spoiling some of these for you (Fic Titles are linked to either FFN or AO3 entries).

Is It Wrong To Thank The Youma? - LunaV-chan

Usagi stumbles upon Mamoru getting attacked by a vicious youma, unable to fully defeat it. This sets off a chain of events with our duo discovering each other's secret identities, as Usagi does her best to help Mamoru get better.

One Less Lie - Marronett

After Sailor Moon gets hurt in battle yet again, she Is beyond frustrated about needing to come up with yet another lie to tell family and friends about what caused this injury. What if this time someone with magic healing powers steps in?

Shadows - rosa lunae

In this post Galaxia set story, Usagi's health keeps getting progressively worse - with shadows they can't explain appearing on her lungs. Is it some sort of a disease or an enemy trying to get revenge?

Leg Pain - @ninjettetwitch

After a difficult battle Sailor Moon follows Tuxedo Mask to make sure he is ok, offering to help him heal his injuries. Her only request? He has to continue talking to keep her out of her own head.

Wandering Soul - Serena530

Due to a series of events out of her control, Usagi gets hurt on the way to school, with her spirit left to wander around aimlessly. That is until Mamoru of all people sees her, when no one else can.

Love and Other Drugs - @linlamont

With a backdrop of a gastrointestinal virus wreaking havoc in the community, Usagi asks Mamoru for a favor - to let her stay at his place for the weekend while her family is away.

5 Weeks of AUs: Chapter 1 - @idesofnovember

In this non-senshi AU, elementary school teacher Usagi keeps bumping into very handsome new school nurse Mamoru. That is until she ends up in his care trying to make sure one of her kids doesn't get hurt.

And They Were In Quarantine! ...Separately D: - @smokingbomber

This is a quintessential COVID fic that is equal parts adorable and heartbreaking, with Usagi and Mamoru making the call to spend the start of the pandemic separately.

[side note: make sure you are logged into your AO3 account to access this story, it has been locked down with all the scraping and reposting on other platforms without writer consent]

Snippets: Chapter 3: Accident - @uglygreenjacket

Minako (being Minako) tells Mamoru to meet her at the hospital because there was an accident with Usagi, both sounding panicked and not giving any usable information at the same time.

Day 4: AU - @tinacentury

Mamoru being afraid of needles is definitely part of canon. In this cute story, he has to get his flu shot from a hurricane of a nurse who fascinates him more than he could have imagined.

Moving In - @daikon1

Everyone told Usagi that things would change once she and Mamoru finally move in together, something she adamantly denied was possible. That is until Mamoru starts acting oddly in the morning and she can’t figure out what’s going on.

Paging Dr. Mamo-chan! - @midnightdrops

One of the newest additions to the list! Adorable series of connected one-shots that show Mamoru going through his residency and how it impacts him and people around him. (Hopefully we will get more of their WIP soon, so I can finally do my College AU post *hint-hint nudge-nudge* 😘)

---

That's it for this week. Next week we will cover "Sex Pollen" as a trope based on a suggestion from @lilliebellfanfics.

Here are the links to the previous Tumblr posts in these series to explore more amazing works based on different themes - make sure to check them out if you haven't had a chance! (Click on title name to go to the post) - I will keep updating the list every week as new posts come up:

Week 1 - Groundhog Day

Week 2 - Established Relationships

Week 3 - Sex Positivity

Week 4 - Unfinished Stories

Week 5 - Darker Stories

Week 6 - Potions 🧪

Week 7 - Reveals

Week 8 - 👻Halloween🎃

Week 9 - Wrong Perceptions

Week 10 - Non-Senshi AU

Week 11 - In-Progress Fics

Week 12 - Mutual Pining

Week 13 - Enemies to Lovers

Week 14 - Slow Burn

Week 15 - Christmas Part 1 - Ugly Christmas Sweaters and Santa!

Week 16 - Christmas Part 2

Week 17 - New Years

Week 18 - High School AU

Week 19 - Slice of Life

Week 20 - Coffee shop AU

Week 21 - Huddle for Warmth

Week 22 - Friends to Lovers

Week 23 - ❤️Valentines Day❤️

Week 24 - Do a Grouch a Favour Day (or Cheer Up Fics)

Week 25 - Soulmate AU

Week 26 - Amnesia Fics (and resources)

Week 27 - 🍀St Patrick's Day

Week 28 - Fix it Fics

Week 29 - Prompt: Mug

Week 30 - Flowers

Week 31 - Traditions

Week 32 - Dreams

Week 33 - Friends

Week 34 - Body-Swap

#sailor moon #usagi x mamoru #fic list #fic rec #medical attention #medical help

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saiyanprincessswanie · 2 years

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Chrome & Leather - Chapter 12

Pairing: OFC x Billy, OFC x Steve

Summary: Jessie finds herself slowly trying to pick up the pieces of her life. At times she thought she could rely on friends and family, but she finds herself relying on Billy instead. Their friendship starts slowly but builds into him being around her all the time. Jessie is now even noticing the way he looks and can’t figure out if it's hormones or if she is falling for the Sheriff. Feelings or not, Jessie comes to find herself leaning on him more as she welcomes her baby.

Word Count: 2896

Warnings: Mention of flashback, some guilt, fluff, slowly falling in love

A/N: Please keep in mind the pairings that are listed. We are going to see a shift in the story and I don’t want people mad for not realizing this. This is my first fic with an original female character, Jessie Barnes. Face claim for Jessie Barnes is model Jessy Hartel.

Thank you to my beta reader @music-culture-mythology

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

To stay up to date with my writing follow my side-blog and turn on the notifications for @saiyanprincessswanie-sideblog

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps or third party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

How could something so good and pure fall apart in the blink of an eye? The love of Jessie’s life who had just proposed not long ago now tells her that she meant nothing to him. Her right-hand rubs softly over her small belly that carries Steve’s child. He doesn’t want them anymore, something he had made very clear. At first, she thought it was just the news from the guilty verdict that set him off. Knowing that he would be in jail for the child’s life would surely break him down mentally. But, she had promised to wait for him.

Jessie tried to visit him the next day but was told she was no longer on the visitor list. After a few weeks, she tried again, but still nothing. It wasn’t until she got a letter from Steve telling her to, “stop being pathetic and accept I don’t want either of you,” that the news sunk in. They didn’t matter to him and that was something she would have to accept.

Now all Jessie can do is sit in silence on her porch, staring into the distance with tears in her eyes at nothing in particular. She would have to do this alone. Of course, Nat, Winnie, and her friends told her they would be with her every step of the way, that Steve just needed time, but now sitting here she realized it was going to be just her and the baby. Her friends wouldn’t want to be around her when they could all go down to the bar and drink. Winnie was still grieving and trying to get the last of the renovations done at the diner. Both women had learned Becca made them beneficiaries of her life insurance policy totaling two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Leaving one hundred and twenty-five thousand for each of them. Until the diner reopens again in a couple of weeks they both can do what they need to grieve and pick up the pieces of their lives again.

As of now Nat and Jessie were forced into seeing the day-to-day operations of the mechanic shop. Bucky and Steve signed over their business to the two women hoping it would help them financially. Nat naturally understood how the business was run and had Tony help her if she needed it. To distance itself from the men in jail they changed the name of the shop after the biker club, The Howling Commandos. With Bucky and Steve both out of the picture, they hired on two more employees, Loki who had stayed to help his brother Thor and nineteen-year-old Peter Parker who had been a friend of Tony’s. With the shop at full staff, it was time for them all to work hard and move on.

Though moving on was something Nat refused to do. She found an old friend who had just become a lawyer that she knew from high school and was now back in town opening an office. Smiling to herself Nat left the manager's office to go visit Matthew Murdock.

It had been over a month now that the diner was once again open to the public after being closed for renovations. When they first opened bright and early their normal customers were not there to greet them for breakfast. Jessie, Wanda, Sharon, and Pietro waited for someone to come in but still, they were empty. Jessie worried that the diner was going to be hard to bring back after what took place here. She still has flashbacks of holding her sister's dying body just a few feet from where she stood. Now Jessie stood there rubbing her belly at four months pregnant pondering her future. Being a single mom and pregnant in a small town was already frowned upon. Though in her case it was one thing having a child out of wedlock but to have a child by someone who was convicted of murder, well that was the icing on the cake. The town folks didn’t hide their distaste for her when she went shopping at the grocery store.

Snapping back out of her thoughts Jessie noticed it was now 7 am and was just starting to feel nervous when Billy and his deputies walked in. Jessie walked over to them and smiled, letting them sit in their usual section. Together Wanda and Jessie worked to help all five men and get their orders in.

Jessie set Billy’s coffee down in front of him. “Thank you for showing up. I know how people feel right now about this diner or at least the family that owns it.”

“Don’t worry about what others say. Time will fly by and people will be back in here again. Just wait and see. Right guys?” Billy asked his men who shook their heads and agreed. He looked back at Jessie. “Besides, I have to make an announcement at the Sheriff's department later as I have a new Assistant Sheriff being named today. Since I have the press showing up I’ll be sure to name drop the diner.” He winked at Jessie as she looked at him in shock.

“You don’t have to do that. Just focus on your new Assistant Sheriff and remember to play nice.” Jessie went to the kitchen to help Wanda bring their food out. The women hurried with serving each man his plate and refilling their cups.

Billy smirked at her as she filled his coffee. “I always play nice sweetheart. I’m not the problem. The problem is finding someone to take orders and do their job correctly.”

Once seeing everyone was settled in with their food Jessie couldn’t help the smirk that formed on her face as she stood with a hand on her hip. “Let’s be honest, how long has it been for you trying to fill that position? A year or two? It sounds like you can’t keep the help.”

“I don’t want help, sweetheart. I need someone with…skills to know what to do in that position.” The way Billy said the last word had her suck in a quick breath as everyone at the table looked between him and her. Jessie turned bright red as she bolted to the back office.

Later that evening it was announced in front of the town that Frank Castle would serve as the new Assistant Sheriff. Of course, Jessie and her friends were happy to see Frank back in town. He had also gone off to join the military at one point and came back to live in the town one over from them. Frank married and had kids until someone murdered them. He was set on throwing himself into work and trying to find who had killed his family.

A part of Jessie wanted to bring up Bucky and Steve’s case but she was afraid of stirring the pot on a crime that shook the town. Instead, Jessie would find herself that night handwriting an anonymous letter detailing the case from beginning to end. If anyone was going to work hard on a case of former friends it would be him. It was a few weeks later after she left the note for Frank that she learned from her ma’ that a new lawyer named Matt Murdock had already accepted the case pro-bono. According to Winnie, it would take up to a couple of years for the lawyer to really dig deep. Jessie was happy to hear this news but it still didn’t change her relationship or lack of one with Steve.

So Jessie continued to work through her pregnancy. She wasn’t sure at first if she wanted to know the sex of the baby but now Jessie was dying to know. On the day she was going to find out Winnie ended up sick with a cold, leaving Jessie to go alone. That was until she ran into Billy at the hospital. Small talk turned into what she was there for and he insisted on being there for her. At first, she declined but the more Jessie thought about being alone she accepted his offer. An hour later with tears falling down her face, she found out she was having a boy. The baby was healthy and perfect, which is all that she wanted. The doctor printed the picture so she could show her ma’.

Leaving the doctor's office Jessie wiped her tears of joy away as Billy joined her outside. Jessie looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you for coming with me. I know you probably had better things to do but that meant a lot not going alone.”

Billy smiled back at her and took in her glowing features. “Honestly, this was more important than what I was doing. I’m happy the baby and you are healthy. Seeing the baby on the screen, well, it took my breath away. I’ve never seen something so innocent before and I’m thankful you shared that with me.”

Her stomach fluttered at his words, whether it was the baby or not she will never know. But, his words had so much meaning behind them that she started to blush from how his brown eyes looked her over. Unlike her friends and ma, Jessie held no ill will against Billy for testifying in court against her brother and Steve. In her eyes, he was only doing what the law required him to do. Sure she was upset in the beginning but she reminded herself it was Bucky and Steve who got into trouble. Now, Billy was just a friend trying to help her out and that meant the world to her.

“I-I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. It would be my way of thanking you for coming with me today. Don’t feel obligated if you’re busy.” Jessie spoke fast, trying to get the words out as she felt nervous. Why was she all of a sudden nervous around Billy? He was the same man she has known her entire life.

Billy stepped closer to her and lifted his hand, tucking the stray hair behind her ear gently. When she sucked in a breath from his touch he smiled. “I would love nothing more than to come over for dinner.”

Jessie let her breath out and beamed back at him. “Come over anytime after 5 pm. Dinner will be ready after 6 pm.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Billy watched as Jessie returned to her truck safely before he left. Finally, he could start working on getting the future with her that he always deserved.

Billy showed up on time at Jessie’s place that evening. His brown eyes took in her glowing form in a pretty sundress that hugged her hips, breasts, and baby bump perfectly. In his mind, she was wearing it just for him. “You’re absolutely stunning sweetheart,” he said, while handing her an arrangement of wildflowers.

She brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled the scent. “Thank you, this is sweet. Come on, dinner is almost ready. I made homemade lasagna and pie for dessert.” Jessie grabbed a glass vase and placed the flowers in them and brought them over to set on the dining room table.

“Smells delicious.” He sniffed the air and lightly moaned in satisfaction from the smell. Jessie couldn’t help but blush from his reaction. It’s been a while since someone complimented her cooking.

The night rolled on and was perfect from dinner to small talk. Billy was right, it really was delicious and with her cooking, he swore he would never eat again. He had asked about the baby and things that she would eventually need. Little did she know he was taking inventory so he could help her out. What a helpful friend he would be if he started offering his services to her. To not scare her he would have to start small and go from there. She will eventually make the perfect little housewife for him. Oh, he would do the right thing by her by marrying her and taking this baby as his own. But then he would want her round and pregnant with his own child. They would be the perfect family in this town and if anyone would look at her sideways then they would have to deal with him. This was his town and no one would cross him ever again.

After dessert he noticed her starting to get tired, Jessie was laying back against the couch and lightly caressing her belly. The moment was so beautiful that he decided to go home before he tainted it. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek and thanked her again for the meal. Leaving her house was hard for him but he knew this was the start of something between them.

Slowly over the next five months, Jessie and Billy formed a close friendship. One that she realized she had missed immensely. They each took turns cooking for one another, Jessie loved that he was a talented home cook. Billy was giving Jessie something that she thought she lost with Steve, a life again. Both Billy and Jessie looked forward to seeing each other every day whether it be him visiting the diner while she worked or their normal dinners together. Though once Jessie started Lamaze classes it threw their nights off temporarily.

One evening after work Jessie was waiting for Nat to bring her to Lamaze classes, but unfortunately, Nat had to stay late at the garage due to an issue with a deputy's car. Billy just so happened to be finishing up dinner when he heard the dilemma. It was then that he offered to go with her, despite her protest of it being boring. Thankfully, he persuaded her to let him attend with her. That’s how she found herself every week now going to classes with him. Not that Nat was a bad support system but something about going with a man helped her relax more.

Lamaze classes eventually made their way into official small dates. This was the first time since Steve broke her heart that she felt needed. Maybe it was the hormones but she loved Billy coming over all the time especially now that he is putting together the furniture she needed for the baby's room. There was something about Billy working in a tank top, his muscular arms on display, as he screwed two pieces of wood together to make the frame of the crib. Jessie caught herself licking her lips at times when she watched him. Once again she blamed it on hormones. As she left the room Billy watched her leave and he couldn’t help but grin to himself. He knew the effect he was having on her and he would continue to play up to it.

By the time she knew it, Jessie was nine months pregnant. Everything was now hurting, nothing made her comfortable and Jessie just couldn’t work as much. But by then it was okay as the diner was now back to normal thanks to Billy and his announcement months earlier. They had everyone in town packing the diner, especially during lunch and dinner services. Winnie had even thanked the good Sheriff for saving the family diner.

Billy was now spending every day with Jessie and helping her get the final touches done to the baby room. Jessie had everything she needed for the baby thanks to the baby shower thrown for her a week earlier and plus Billy still kept buying small things even when she told him not to. Winnie was happy to see Jessie smiling once again even if it was without Steve. Though the biker club was considerate to Jessie they just didn’t trust the Sheriff deep down inside and did whatever they could to avoid him.

One afternoon while she was at her ma’s place Jessie had finally gone into labor. Winnie whisked her daughter off to the hospital and called Billy, even though her ma insisted he wouldn’t want to be there for the birth. But she was wrong as Billy pushed his way to her room as if he were the father-to-be. Once Billy was by Jessie’s side he never left until finally, the baby made his way into the world.

Little Benjamin Grant Rogers was born weighing 7lbs 10oz and 18 inches long. He had soft patches of blonde hair on his head and bright blue eyes. His cry filled the room and brought tears to Jessie’s eyes.

When the doctors cleaned her up Billy walked over with Ben in his arms. The little boy was softly cooing in the larger man’s arms. The sight before her both made her happy and broke her heart. This should have been Steve holding his son but instead, it was Billy who she was slowly falling in love with. Maybe she didn’t need Steve to make everything perfect, maybe finding someone when you least expected it was what she needed.

Billy sat next to Jessie and placed Ben in her arms. He looked down at the woman he loved and Ben and kissed both their foreheads gently. Unbeknownst to the three of them, Winnie had taken a photo of them on her phone. This may not have been her first choice for Jessie but she definitely approves of Billy now.

Chapter 13

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#@saiyanprincessswanie #chrome & leather #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #billy russo #steve rogers #billy russo x ofc #billy russo x original female character #biker au #biker steve rogers #marvel au #marvel fanfiction

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multiplayingorg · 1 year

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What? You're Still Here?

| Repost: Originally posted by Rer on June 29, 2012

Its true, really! Click past the jump for more info on what's going on lately.

Sooo, yea, its been quite awhile since I last posted here, and while I believe I will be co-hosting tonight’s episode of Multiplaying (spoilers! that exists too!), I feel it is time to get back to blogging!

I suppose to best way to start its to explain what’s going on with me gaming-wise. I am of course, still ridiculously active as a gamer, logging in about as many hours as physically possible (taking into account working, sleeping, and eating of course). Despite all of this glorious gaming however, my content updates have been nonexistent. My YouTube channel has really become barren as of late, and my posting on the Multiplaying forums has been minimal. Time to fix that! So, with this post I am announcing the following projects, thus locking me in a blood-blogging-bound seal of finishing them!

Uncharted Waters Online

EVE Online

Orion: Dino Beatdown

Sword and Sworcery (if not a full playthrough of this)

Civilization V: Gods and Kings

Nuclear Dawn

And Many More!

I feel like those, in addition to finishing Darksiders and Cave Story+, should be more than enough to keep me occupied for the rest of this summer. I attribute most of my apathy towards creating content around a rather negative attitude towards the Telecommunications Industry that I had for awhile. Looking back however, letting some rather unfortunate events get in the way of continuously updating and posting (never stop posting!) was rather silly.

On a more positive note, gaming has been wonderful as of late. I’ve been spending numerous hours playing EVE, as I have moved to a new corporation (SniggWaffe), known for being a very active recruiter corporation for one of Pandemic Legion’s most well-known corporations (Sniggerdly). I’m enjoying myself there, as it is much like Multiplaying in the sense that the folks in PL play many different games together (Starcraft II, Battlefield 3, DEFCON, DayZ, and LoL come to mind). A massive war is also brewing in Delve (a region in EVE), consisting of well.. just watch this:

(video is no longer available)

(Damn I need to bribe this guy with ISK to teach me how to do this in After Effects)

In regards to League, yes, LoL Coldcasts will be picking back up as well. Iaqton says he has some special surprise for me involving a pro-team or something, but he’s keeping the details a secret from me until he’s sure its going to happen. So, stay tuned for that I guess? Either way, we both agree that its high time we got back to casting. Iaqton has been riding me about it for awhile, but as I mentioned earlier, I just wasn’t in a good state of mind to get back into it. I’m not sure if we’ll continue doing Tournaments (organizing people is a huge pain in the rear, who knew?), but we will definitely be doing something.

Last but not least, I’m building a new rig! I’m not sure if I’ll be donating my old computer to my younger brother or a good friend quite yet, but either way I know it will be going to a good owner who will use it to its fullest potential. I, however, will have a completely new rig that is being constructed by my friend. Without getting too much into the tech it consists of a ASUS Rampage Intel Motherboard, a Intel Core i7, a Solid Slate Drive and normal 2TB Hard Drive, and 2 HD Radeon 6850′s that will be Crossfired with one another. Needless to say, I’m super freakin’ excited.

That’s about it I suppose. I just wanted to start blogging again and lock myself in to creating more content. Thanks for reading and.. oh, oh oh! One more thing! The Tenth EVE Alliance Tournament qualifiers are this weekend! Even if you don’t play EVE, you can expect some hilarious commentating and many explosions to take place, so stop by!

#throwback thursday

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dualcastimpact · 1 year

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kai livetweets: a realm reborn

Originally part of a massive livetweet thread on my main Twitter account; reposted here for posterity.

July 20, 2021

I didn't think I'd be livetweeting (somewhat) my progress through the game, but here I am anyway!

Into the rabbit hole I go

May 28, 2021 I finally started playing FFXIV on a whim and already I am very attached to my WoL... this game is Dangerous

Narrator voice: she would soon be proven wrong

May 30, 2021 Been playing a lot of FFXIV lately and it's quickly superseding Genshin as my main game, but as much fun I'm having with it I don't think there's anything for me to livetweet about hmm

Oh sweet summer child

May 31, 2021 I was going to grind the other beginner caster classes... then I realised the jobs I'm majorly interested in don't need prerequisite classes... guess I'll just main Summoner until Endwalker drops I'm mostly hard at work leveling the DoL classes anyhow hahaha wow how are they on par with my main class wtf I will however grind Thaumaturgy until idk level 20 because I want to get the materia from the outfits I'm SO close to spiritbonding, because I want to glamour-plate those outfits

First look at Raginmar

May 31, 2021 Was influenced by @/surfacage's tired bedraggled Miqo'te WoL but alas Miqo'te don't come in beefy... so settled for a Highlander Hyur instead! Raginmar Steelbiter doesn't really get this whole crystal business but he's too nice to say no

He's generally a mild-mannered beefcake who just wants to get along with people! Too bad the plentiful and varied beasts and bandits of Eorzea don't agree with that

I have his idle pose set to crossed arms so whenever he talks to NPCs he just exudes this judgmental aura asjfkdjfkkd

It's always these types

May 31, 2021 Looked up the barest info on Thancred because I liked what I saw from his character so far and apparently he's a smooth-talking, guilt-ridden workaholic of a man I don't want to call myself out but this is just way too predictable of me

And here you can see how I begin spiralling into OC hell

May 31, 2021 WoL brainrot hours... Raginmar has a sister who gets into fisticuffs a lot... boisterous bruiser up for a bloody good time This happens every time I have a new OC don't mind me

Fuck Gridania

June 4, 2021 Every time I come to Gridania it's either foggy or raining I hate this place What the hell is this weather Gridania

All my homies hate Gridania

June 5, 2021 I said I wouldn't have anything to tweet about while playing FFXIV but I was wrong I do have something to tweet about It's how every time I go to Gridania the weather is fuCKING ATROCIOUS Here I am, freshly logged in and in Buscarron's lovely little alehouse, enjoying the music, and there's a thunderstorm right outside :))) man I deeply dislike Gridania

I like doing provisions, kinda stressed I have to reach Heavensward to continue

June 6, 2021 I gotta stop doing the provision supplies, I only have so much energy to play and by the time I finish them I'm too tired to do the class quests hrngk

You kinda do need to get into the thick of it as a Black Mage, I know that now

June 8, 2021 I wonder if the other magic DPS in the party yell at me for staying so far back like I do at them for charging into melee range with enemies

Met a tank masquerading as a DPS one day

June 10, 2021 As a DPS you're supposed to let the tank aggro the mobs and then assist with AOEs, right? Like that's the basic rule of it, right? Then why would you charge in headlong when you're a DPS...

A common problem

June 11, 2021 These past few days I've been motivating myself with finally finishing the rogue storyline in FFXIV, but by the time I actually get round to playing it I always feel too drained to enjoy the story, so I end up not playing it... I really like Jacke and I'm kinda sad he's not in the story beyond the class/job storylines, so I really want to enjoy it while I can

I never did get Raginmar to NIN

June 13, 2021 me: today I WILL finish the ROG story quest and get the NIN soul crystal also me: *grinds for GSM by almost 20 levels instead* I had about 114 raw amethysts from mining and so decided to use them all up to level GSM and hoo boy

I haven't watched Oxventure in a long time because I don't want to not focus on it because I'm too tired or anything

June 14, 2021 Finished BTN and MIN quests until the base level 50 cap, might fuck around and finish the GSM questline too Meanwhile the ROG questline is just... there. This is me with Oxventure all over again my friends: where are you at with the MSQ bro, hurry up and finish the story me:

Friendly reminder to play The Last Remnant if you can, it's a great game

June 14, 2021 I was wondering why the behemoth mount music in FFXIV felt so familiar... it's by Tsuyoshi Sekito, who made the music for the The Last Remnant... I really need to go back and finish that game, I loved it to bits but I never ended up finishing it...

When your gathering class is 20 levels above your main

June 15, 2021 The Sneak skill afforded to DoL classes is a bit of a cheat imo, wandered around Mor Dhona last night as BTN and probably cheated myself out of the experience of exploring it properly first hand I'm only around lv. 24 in the MSQ. Northern Thanalan and Mor Dhona mooks can kill my main class twice over. Wandering around in a non-combat class at night and hoping I don't encounter any enemies beyond the Sneak level felt a bit surreal haha There was a pugilist going around one-shotting every vanguard in the area lmao and then at Revenant's Toll there was this lv. 3 wanderer just sitting on top of the battlements and presumably enjoying the view

I just found out this was an Easter egg of some sort!

June 15, 2021 This isn't his carbuncle

It's up and left now. Wonder whose carbuncle that was...

I still haven't done that level 44 quest

June 16, 2021 Level 50 GSM quest got me like

This didn't last very long lmao

June 17, 2021 You thought I was joking

I'm gonna have to do this again with Kirika :)

June 17, 2021 I may have overestimated my own willingness to play a purely healing class... playing solo CNJ basically means 80% of my skillset is useless I'm a bit invested in Slyphie's story now though, guess I'll stick with it

So for this one you need to catch a high quality Harbor Herring, then use it to mooch for a high quality Ogre Barracuda, then use THAT to mooch for a Mazlaya Marlin

I got all that in one go :D

June 20, 2021 Finished the lv. 50 FSH quest! Leveling it is so much easier than MIN or BTN, lemme tell you — I remember the other two lv. 50 quests were so involved and had you looking for pure, unspoiled nodes in Coerthas and all

FSH just needed you to catch three fish in succession

I really want to go to Ishgard

June 20, 2021 Actually pretty sad I can only get to Ishgard in Heavensward — feels like a long way away, especially with my quest to level all the DoH/DoL skills to 50. Not to mention, partying for duties make me nervous about not performing well (｡•́︿•̀｡)

I'm slowly leveling up CNJ and I do want to do duties as that class, but I'm scared I won't be healing as efficiently as the party would like. Targeting with the PS4 is hard, you have to toggle quickly through enemies/party members on-screen and hope you can select them in time

Sometimes you can't even select them ._. one time I was doing a FATE with someone and they just weren't being selected as I cycled through every character on screen, it was stressful

Big desolation vibes!!

June 22, 2021 Coerthas is my favourite so far, it's barren and snowing 60% of the time but I genuinely love the Central Highlands so much

Highkey can't wait to go to Ishgard

I appreciate the free gear but man it really doesn't do him any favours

June 22, 2021 Gridania was sunny a couple days back

Really want a better crafting glamour hmm hmmm

June 23, 2021 Did I level up LTW specifically so I could make raptor leather needed for the wool suspenders? Why yes, yes I did

Anyway: DoH and DoL glamours because I like the lumberjack dad look he's got going on

What do you mean there's more to this game than crafting

Really wanted Raginmar to wear the altered felt robe but good god is it ugly on him

June 23, 2021 Pros of leveling DoH classes while ignoring the MSQ: you can make fancy pretty things

Cons of leveling DoH classes while ignoring the MSQ: the fancy pretty things are too high-leveled for your main class

I want Raginmar to wear the altered felt robe... it looks so much cooler than the lumpy fumpy robe he's wearing now.....

Was talking about getting into something years after it peaked in popularity

June 23, 2021 Also missing out on events. Praying that the FFXV event comes back to FFXIV oh god I want the Kingsglaive title SO BAD

Impostor syndrome but make it FFXIV

June 24, 2021 me looking nervously at a level 50+ sprout: oh no they're so experienced

also me: level 50+ in DoL classes

The moment I realised the DoH classes all depend on each other...

June 24, 2021 >> go to do the LTW quests >> lv. 45 quest requires mythril and cobalt rivets >> realise i need to level ARM by at least 15, BSM by 25 >> retire to inn >> log out >> cry myself to sleep

I am WAY too tired for this but tomorrow I guess I'll go mine some ore and bomb ash and make 100 steel ingot idk

Listen I main SMN okay I don't need metalworks

The lv. 40 quest needed hippogryph sinew... the lowest level creature that drops it is the hippocerf in Coerthas, at level 40... four whole levels above my main class... thank god I main SMN and invested my chocobo points in healing but now I am just tired

I shoulda known my low level in other classes would fuck me over! I shoulda known!!!

"The lore" is basically the only reason I do anything in this game

June 25, 2021 rational brain: literally nothing is stopping you from leveling every combat class with Raginmar

lizard brain: yeah but it'd be funnier if Hyllizirn levels in exclusively tank classes because of the lore

Hyllizirn is Raginmar's boisterous bruiser of a sister, so lore-wise it makes sense that Hyllizirn does tank jobs and maybe MNK (because fisticuffs) and Raginmar is more arcane and ranged (because pacifist)

The real question here is do I have the tenacity to play the game from the start just so I can have Hyllizirn screenshots What am I saying of course I do

Spiralling even further into OC hell

June 25, 2021 If Raginmar only levels magic and physical ranged DPS (and ROG), and Hyllizirn only levels tank, then should I make another character to level healer and melee DPS...? That would also be pretty funny lmao

Dungeon observations 2

June 26, 2021 Did Halatali for the first time with a party of veterans and man, I understand what they mean by big pulls now

Tank absolutely NYOOMED through the dungeon; he'd aggro a few enemies and then run into the next chamber for a bigger space to fight in + more enemies. Hard to really contribute when you have no AoE spells other than Gust tho (｡•́︿•̀｡)

Everybody left so quickly after we'd finished, I didn't have time to give anyone commendations (｡•́︿•̀｡) one of them gave me one though!

To make matters worse, I didn't realise there were more hippocerfs close to Whitebrim so did a gauntlet a little further away on a path that only had three of the buggers, running back and forth and killing them as they respawned

June 26, 2021 *distantly thinks about the level 24 main scenario quest I've abandoned to fight level 40 hippocerfs for the LTW quest*

You cannot deny the cat boy

June 26, 2021 me: cat boy or dragon girl

my friends: dragon girl

me: okies (proceeds to make both dragon girl and cat boy)

Them!!

June 27, 2021 More FFXIV OCs! Hyllizirn, L'Vazha Tia and Kirika Kagutsuchi (+ bonus Kirika in WHM gear)

Evidently I cannot go into a franchise without making up a slew of OCs with their own lore but what can you do

Raginmar is the only WoL as per the game's lore. Hyllizirn is a soldier in the Immortal Flames and Kirika is a resident healer in Ul'dah, and they are both part-time adventurers. L'Vazha is a travelling merchant who occasionally hires adventurers on his journeys across Eorzea.

Eventually the four become a party and they have their own adventures independent of the game's lore! I would like to write them one day but for now I'm leveling their combat classes based on their lore for my own amusement.

Raginmar is ranged DPS, physical and magical. Hyllizirn and Kirika are strictly tank and healer, respectively. L'Vazha is melee DPS. Lore-wise their jobs are SUM/MCH (Raginmar), GNB (Hyllizirn), WHM (Kirika) and NIN (L'Vazha). Obviously I'm not all there yet but that's my goal!

Also this is partly my own reluctance to level DoH and DoL for the other three, but lore-wise Raginmar is the only one capable of literally anything else other than combat because he was basically a homesteader before he crossed the sea to Limsa Lominsa.

Hyllizirn helped her father out as a mercenary before deciding to travel to Eorzea to become a legendary adventure. Kirika grew up sheltered for certain reasons, and never had cause to do things on her own. L'Vazha is a merchant so had no need for such skills.

This is self-care

June 27, 2021 POV: the middle-aged man in the Warmwine Sanitorium hot springs caught you perving on him

A little disappointed that bathing in the hot springs gives you no boost of any sort in the game, but also I'm just living my hot springs dream vicariously through Raginmar because I miss it so much

I want to go to the ocean! The river! Waterfalls! A swimming pool! Fuck, even a hotel room with a bathtub will do! Let me soak away the aches in these old bones!!

I think I might have mistyped this, I probably meant WVR because I know for sure that one doesn't need materia

June 27, 2021 Level 50 LTW quest:

Did not need materia? Good! Requiring material that has me fighting lv. 42 Golden Fleece with my lv. 38 SUM for a drop rate of 1 basket of snurble tuft per 3/4 enemies? Bad!

Honestly spoiled by the drop rate for fleece, sure it'd be once every few kills but at least it drops like 8 or 9 baskets at once, what the hell

I farmed enough to make about three tries for the items I need to craft for the quest, I'm gonna need to really up my level so I don't waste them. Also I've been so damn self-sufficient in making my own gear, I forgot I could just... buy them from NPCs...

FFXIV is really just a dress-up game with epic fantasy RPG elements

June 27, 2021 My friends asked me why the hell would I play the MSQ multiple times when I could level all the classes on just Raginmar

And honestly? Raginmar is a beefy hunk. He's not exactly fun to play fancy dress up with, what with the pretty fancy outfits FFXIV has

That's what Kirika and L'Vazha are for! Like damn, I want to dress up a pretty girl in pretty hakamas and have her look pretty on the field and take about 100 screenshots, let me live

Yep, I meant WVR

June 28, 2021 I'm surprised WVR didn't need materia for its lvl 50 quest when literally every other DoH does — except CUL, but it's not like you can eat materia. I've got BSM, CUL, ALC and CRP left to level and then I'll do the MSQ haha

Wondering if I should at least finish the ROG storyline with Raginmar since I'm planning to play it again with L'Vazha anyway. I get to see Jacke again twice though, so maybe I should. Defo not finishing CNJ though, I'll slog through it with Kirika

Self!! Care!!

June 28, 2021 Sometimes self care is taking screenshots of your buff main character hanging out with catgirls in a hot spring

Headband girl is staring at him real interestedly

Solace in suffering

June 29, 2021 me: man, I'm stressed from work, I'm gonna play some FFXIV to wind down

me: *starts crafting and driving my blood pressure up with the RNG*

THEY'RE ALL EGGS

June 29, 2021 me grabbing FFXIV by the throat: explain to me why I have to go all the way to fuckass Outer Noscea to get puk eggs JUST to make SCRAMBLED EGGS. EXPLAIN. WHY. EGGS ARE EGGS MAN WHY DO THEY GOTTA BE PUK TO BE SCRAMBLED

V'kebbe is very cute

June 30, 2021 It's cute how occasionally you can find V'kebbe hanging out by the Bismarck because she loves their finger sandwiches so much

Was going to finish the CUL quests but I just don't have the energy to run around looking for ingredients across three countries, I just really don't. Normally I'm good about it but I'm just so tired today, no

I like it here

June 30, 2021 Cons of being in a JP-majority server: communicating can be difficult, hard to find EN-speaking friends

Pros of being in a JP-majority server: no scammers

And by scammers obviously I mean Western or EN-speaking scammers, I'm sure there are scammers in every data center in every language but since I don't speak them I'm safe!

Gotta go back and finish this (and all the other level 50 DoH quests I've not done because no materia)

July 4, 2021 Doing the CRP quests and god I hope nothing bad happens to Gairhad...

I just realised this quest I'm doing is called Memento Mori FUCK

I deserved that lmao

July 4, 2021 Finally doing the ALC quests, the last DoH to level before I do the MSQ for real and uh wow

I mean I *did* leave ALC for the last so that's fair of Severian tbh

I ended up really liking Severian, he's probably the only DoH guildmaster that I really feel for

July 4, 2021 Maelstrom ALC provisions: *needs ahriman wing*

Me: yeah no guess I'll just give up on that, that's like 11 levels above my main class

Severian: Please, my friend... I need your help

Me: *prepares to die in Northern Thanalan*

I absolutely got my ass kicked

Right as I just finished killing one, a Fate with loads of basilisks popped up and killed both my chocobo and summon lmao is this a sign

I'm going to kill two more ahrimans and if I still don't get a wing I'm just going to call it a day and go back to the MSQ...

Was about to get into it and then the same Fate popped up AGAIN. It's a sign, I tell you

Jacke!! I miss him!!

July 5, 2021 Finished the ROG storyline and man, I'm gonna miss him so much...

I'll see him again when I play L'Vazha tho :')

Going into further into OC hell

July 5, 2021 Idly worldbuilding for my FFXIV OCs and I just think it'd be neat if a multi-classed character retains their skills and abilities regardless of what they're maining as

Like Raginmar would have better-than-average stealth skills despite being a SMN main because of his lvl 31 ROG but he wouldn't be better than actual NIN L'Vazha

Hyllizirn and Kirika wouldn't be stealthy at all because they never picked up that class

Neither Raginmar nor Kirika would be good in a fistfight. Hyllizirn can hold her own for leveling in PGL, but L'Vazha would be an actual martial artist for being a MNK

Kirika would have some knowledge in arcanima because she would have needed to level in ACN to be a SCH, so she'd be able to discuss such arcane matters with Raginmar while Hyllizirn and L'Vazha wouldn't be able to make heads or tails of it

And for a melee DPS, L'Vazha would be unusually skilled at drawing enmity compared to Raginmar and Kirika for having had brief training as a GLD

Idk I think this would be fun to play around with, I'd like to really incorporate all this in a fic one day

Mr. Cat Man going places nya (hit)

July 5, 2021 Drafting out minor plot points and man, L'Vazha's looking more like the main character than Raginmar is

Never hurts to be polite imo

July 7, 2021 I gotta set up some chat macros, yesterday in Haukke I wanted to say thanks for waiting while I watched cutscenes and I just couldn't because tabbing through options took so long...

There's no auto translate for "thanks for waiting", hmm... maybe I should set up two macros, one in EN and one in JP?

I've always wanted to do a serial fic, maybe have it on a webpage + sent out by email for subscribers but that's such a pipe dream...

July 7, 2021 Ambitious brain wants to put out a weekly serial kind of thing about Raginmar and co., but I'm barely meeting both zine and work deadlines as it is hAHAHAHAHAHAHA (goes unhinged)

Fun times with Titan

July 8, 2021 We had to redo Titan thrice because our healer kept dying lmao the first time around I didn't dodge in time and got yeeted off, then the rest of the party died one by one

Second time around it was the healer who got yeeted and the tank was like "ABORT MISSION"

and we all jumped into the lava. Third time was the charm but by the time I got out of the cutscene they were all gone and I couldn't use my new chat macros to tell them I had fun (｡•́︿•̀｡)

Then things ended up being not so fun

July 8, 2021 Wait no

The realization hits

July 8, 2021 No no no no no

You can't tell me we're going to celebrate and then have me come home to dead comrades!!

July 8, 2021 Oh, it's personal now

Good thing I'm only leveling two and not all the classes

July 8, 2021 Coerthas-bound to the Observatorium but I'm going to take a break and do the BLM and SMN quests first

When will this pandemic end

July 8, 2021 Thinking about the Company of Heroes from yesterday… I think in any other situation I'd've been ticked off by them having Raginmar play errand boy for their party, but I too have not seen my good friends in a long time + wish to return to the good times I'd had with them in uni

OC hell! OC hell!

July 8, 2021 On the one hand: wants to play through MSQ

On the other hand: wants to go through past cutscenes to build the plot for Raginmar and the others

As if I'm not also logging in at 1am to play

July 9, 2021 How??? It's 1am!

It's not even a Friday night wtf

Thancred missing hours

July 9, 2021 Somewhat losing my mind with Thancred brainrot when I haven't even progressed far enough in the game for that important plot point involving him ahdjsjjdjmd

And Alphinaud's just plain tiny, that kid

July 10, 2021 Wondering if Raginmar's taller than average for a Hyur, or if Cid's just short...

I feel like Raginmar's average height, but then sometimes I pass an Elezen and he's about their height so I'm just ???? Is he tall for a Hyur or is he average?????

Not that it's a bad thing! He's sweet

July 10, 2021 Also I know I have no room to talk, being a Thancred fan, but now that I've met Haurchefant I'm guessing it's his personality and not his looks that's got people hooked

The dhalmelskin coat has a really shabby feel to it, it really reminds me of Ardyn and none of my characters are that sleazy or gloomy

July 10, 2021 At what level do I finally get access to some decent clothing for glamour pls the only one that piques my interest is the dhalmelskin coat and it doesn't even match Raginmar's style

FFXV EVENT IS COMING BACK, BAYBEEEEEE

July 10, 2021 YESSSSSSSS HELL YES

I've got like 3 alts I'm going to endgame MSQ with all of them so I can play this quest 4 times

Once I get that Kingsglaive title I'm never changing it

L'vazha will be starting in Ul'dah so I'll get to meet this Thancred!

July 10, 2021 So turns out you meet different members of the Scions at different starting areas and I'm like, you're telling me I could've met Thancred earlier if I started at Ul'dah???????

Here's a cute* thread about Raginmar and his stupid-in-love younger sister Hyllizirn

*cuteness certified by my good friend @whxyte

July 12, 2021 WoL brainrot hours: Raginmar, tired and jaded from all the (mis)adventures he's going through with the Scions, winding down at the end of the day with a mug of coffee.

Then Hyllizirn slams the door open and screeches for his help.

He almost thinks the worst until he actually hears what Hyllizirn is saying:

"Brother, help me, I think I'm in love with Kirika! What do I do????"

Then he almost drops his mug as his tired brain catches up and he's just ???????

He puts down the mug on a nearby table. Goes to Hyllizirn. Grasps her by the shoulder. Looks her very seriously in the eyes and says, "Lizzi, I want you to think about this.

"Have you ever seen me with a woman — or *anyone*, such that you think I would know what to do?"

Hyllizirn is blank for a few seconds as she processes this. The look of dawning realisation morphing into despair on her face is really quite impressive.

Raginmar is usually a very dependable older brother, but this is one area his aro/ace ass can't help his little sister with.

I was just laughing to myself while making breakfast thinking about this scenario. L'Vazha's no help, he's too busy trying not to die laughing, so Hyllizirn's forced to go ask for advice from other people; I haven't decided who yet. Would be funny if she went to the Scions lmao

In the end Raginmar tells her to go talk to their dads (a callback to the whole reason why he came to Eorzea in the first place) and it doesn't end with her confessing to Kirika or anything, but more of a soft understanding of her own feelings.

On his end, Raginmar's just happy he's not being asked to solve some national-level or world-ending crisis (although it sure felt that way for Hyllizirn). He's a little sad he can't help much, but he's happy that she still came to him for something as mundane as love troubles :')

I love this man

July 12, 2021 My current state right now:

o(-<

July 12, 2021 Thinking about @whxyte absolutely nailing me being a Thancred simp even before I'd met him

There's just something about pearl earrings that look so rich white suburban mom and I hate it

July 13, 2021 Made these HQ pearl earrings for Raginmar and god, they're so ostentatious on him

SMN's my favourite caster class so far, excited to try out RDM when I get the full game

July 13, 2021 SMN is now lv 50! Gotta take some time off of MSQ and do the job quests, then I'll switch to BLM to level it alongside the MSQ. Next on the classing table for Raginmar is MCH and that's not until Heavensward, so I'm pretty much set for now

OC hell beckons once more

July 13, 2021 Maybe I *should* make a bunny boy... like I don't really need yet another character in the story but I also can't think of a reason why any of the 4 would be a BRD/DNC

Wait no I did think of having Kirika level ARC, because I thought it'd be funny for her to have one (1) strong DPS skill out of all her generally-pacifistic healing ones, and BRD would allow her to be more supportive in combat

But her being DNC doesn't quite mesh with her character — I like making up reasons why they would learn this or that job, and DNC is just one that doesn't fit

This really grinds my gear tbh

July 13, 2021 Rhetorical question but it's killing me how everyone's freaked out the Scions being attacked and Minfilia and co. being captured — but not a single one of them mentioned Thancred

Portelaine: They observed four prisoners being led into the castrum: a Hyuran woman, an Elezen man, and two Lalafells─one male, one female.

Yda: It's them! It has to be! Minfilia, Urianger, Papalymo, and Tataru!

Me: Aren't you guys forgetting someone?!

Yes I'm talking about Thancred

July 13, 2021 The thing about playing a middle-aged ace man in FFXIV is that when I end up going full simp for an NPC I have absolutely no creative outlet to express it

Crying on my TL does not count

Someone was making a wolcred comic where Thancred is killed to get a reaction from the WoL and I'm just

Like I LOVE that trope, love that hurt/(no)comfort vibe — but it wouldn't work with Raginmar because Vin Diesel memes aside, the man is do or die for his *family*. There's no reason for an enemy to target someone like Thancred when there's his actual younger sister to threaten

For future context, some big-name WoW streamers got into FFXIV and led to an influx of new players on NA data centres — but the EU and JP data centres were absolutely left untouched

July 14, 2021 Holy shit

JP and EU DCs are *completely* clear — even Tonberry is open for new characters!

Really want to get to Storm Lieutenant but man the grind is hard

July 15, 2021 Finally made it to Chief Storm Sergeant yesterday! Hyllizirn would slowly rise up the ranks because she's not quite soldier material (not yet!), but Raginmar's quickly getting himself promotions because of something from his past...

Finally getting on with the fun part of the MSQ

July 16, 2021 Minfilia and co. rescued! Also I never want to hear Lahabrea's disgusting crusty-ass voice coming out of Thancred again, please and thank you

Also you know how shounen tropes always have this implausibly teenage hero stepping and being the main character ordering people around? That's Alphinaud. Feels like he's the shonen main character and the WoL's more like an overpowered side character

I yell about the Scions and Thancred a lot

July 16, 2021 Minfilia: we didn't think he'd be in danger investigating the Ascians alone

Papalymo: dude sure does more than he can handle though

Yda: yeah he volunteers himself for everything and works himself to death

Me (and likely by extension Raginmar):

Fucking really? You're all aware that Thancred tends to take all the burdens by himself, works himself to the bone and is likely physically and mentally exhausted and yet you still didn't see a problem sending him off to investigate the Ascians alone??? REALLY????

Also absolutely no one other than Papalymo enquired as to his whereabouts and even that was a foreshadowing for the whole Thancred-is-an-Ascian reveal at the end. What the hell? Do the rest of the Scions just not care about the man??

And I do mean: A LOT

July 16, 2021 Still mad about how none of the Scions seemed to be concerned about Thancred when they were first attacked, especially the bit where Portelaine describes the four captured Scions and no one wondered why Thancred isn't included in that list

It doesn't make sense. Even if you assume he's away like Yda and Y'shtola were in Gridania and Limsa Lominsa respectively, wouldn't the first step be to look for him so that the three can regroup? Even if he was away infiltrating enemy territory, you can't drop him a linkshell?

The first thing you do after an attack that basically wiped out your entire group is to regroup all the survivors. You need to take stock of who's still available before you do something as grandiose as announcing the Scions are back (looking at you, Alphinaud)

Regrouping aside, the fact that no one showed concern for his whereabouts even after Minfilia and co.'s survival and location was confirmed is really something I don't understand — and I know it's just a tiny detail but god it's so irritating

And it's not like he's been gone all this time! Whenever you visit the Waking Sands he's always there in the main hall, seated with his head down and generally being a suspicious foreshadowing — which means there was a likelihood he could've been there when the Empire attacked

(yes he was likely already possessed by then but the WoL and others wouldn't have known! It's a likely assumption to make!)

It's not like he's an unimportant minor character. He's not like Arenvald, someone you'd know if you'd only bothered to wander around and talk to NPCs. He's THE Scion you meet in the Ul'dah questline! He's a big deal! And no one seemed to care if he was dead or alive!

Anyway sorry I keep yelling about this but for a game that's usually quite good in its storytelling, this just feels like such a glaring omission

I say funny but it's really a bit astonishing how they're handing over this important role to someone they've only known for a few months, give or take

July 16, 2021 I think the Scions asking newbie adventurer WoL to lead an elite unit in the middle of what amounts to a war campaign is incredibly funny

The rest of the Scions are in supporting roles for Eorzea's Grand Companies and here you have newbie adventurer WoL in a full command role and taking point in sieging strongholds

Ngl that's a bit much to ask, especially if standard tropes mean the WoL is a young adventurer

"Yours is the most important role of all, and like to be the most dangerous." You're really sending off this newbie adventurer scrub to his death just like that, huh?

I'm a huge fan of story-based games, so skipping the story had never even occured to me. It's wild that some people are actually recommending new players to skip ARR because "it's bad"

July 17, 2021 I understand that people can play however they want and everybody from RPers to those really into worldbuilding to minmaxers are all very valid But man, why would you play a story-based RPG if you're gonna skip the story?

Worse, why would you actively encourage people to skip the story??? Like shit, are you gonna tell people to skip the first season of a TV series and head straight to the second and third? It doesn't make sense

Now there's five of them!

July 17, 2021 Anyway made a very beautiful bunny boy and I'm unfortunately very attached to him now pls help

Haven't figured out a name for him yet but he's a wandering performer (DNC/BRD) on the run from a painful past

He's probably the prettiest out of my whole cast of OCs... damn

He's so pretty, I can't wait to play him

July 18, 2021 Hoping Twitter doesn't compress these to hell and back — have decided on his name! He is called Canso the Songbird and I cannot stop looking at him why is he so pretty

The rest of them!

July 18, 2021 Playing around in the character creation as I do and I really like how they look in these shots

These shots too

Apparently he has a Mads Mikkelsen vibe in the first shot which was unintentional — but I'll take it!

July 19, 2021 The man is about due for some new crisp screenshots hehe the level 50 summoner outfit doesn't look too bad but man I really want to get some better glams for this guy

"crisp screenshots" lmao who am I fooling

Raginmar telling me to stop playing, it's Maghrib already

July 19, 2021 I usually have Raginmar sit down on this bench before logging out and every time I log back in he's reading the tahiyat awal, what is this

Unspoken solidarity in respecting new players who are watching cutscenes

July 19, 2021 Doing Toto-Rak and was on the waiting end of someone watching a cutscene for the first time. Usually I've had people waiting for me do emotes but this time everyone just unanimously decided to stand ready while waiting for the other person to finish the cutscene hehe

Getting knee-capped by the BLM questline

July 19, 2021 Me at the start of the lv. 50 black mage quest: haha Venti

Me at the end of the quest: ?????? my kokoro????? hurts???????

In celebration of finally hitting level 50 with black mage, I will... make the level 50 weapon Astrolabe that requires materials from multiple timed nodes

How is this a celebration

Aw heck just realised I need to be a Lieutenant to get the whetstone and I haven't finished the required hunting logs yet + I'm out of Storm seals.... can't make it after all HECK

(14 hours later) maybe I should grind for the Regalia, who knows if the event will come back again...

July 20, 2021 There are no words to describe how much I dislike the Gold Saucer... just came back from finishing the event quest and I do NOT want to go back, I don't need the Regalia anyway

Also near the airship landing there's a man telling his child son to work at the silver mines for a few months until his debt is paid and I'm just ?????? That's TERRIBLE

Time to suffer through the MSQ as a CNJ!

July 20, 2021 I was going to wait until I'd at least finished HW with Raginmar to level my alts, but I'm gonna level Kirika to at least 15 to do the event quest — the vexed emote would look SO cute on her

Kinda nervous that the queue for my world was gonna be ridiculous but turns out it's only 16 haha PHEW

#dualcast records #dualcast records: arr #oh god please let this work

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devandahlcourte-work-in-progress · 2 years

Text

Section 21. 2 chapters, ending with chapter 79

I am reposting these first eighty-two chapters (in 22 sections) plus the prologue and the preface.

These posts will be the updated versions from my DeviantArt account, and since Tumblr may not display all the text correctly (it destroys anything I had in italics or underlined) I would still recommend reading everything there, on DeviantArt. They will also include internal links that navigate between the chapters on DeviantArt and will take the reader off Tumblr if clicked.

This came about because I noticed search engines were finding random sections of my book and displaying them along with some other people’s blog posts.

Okay, so that’s why I installed those internal links in each one… so that if anyone gets to a random section by way of a search engine and would like to read the story from the beginning, they can.

Only then did I realize that it wasn’t getting it’s search results from DeviantArt, but from old Tumblr.

There’s another problem at work here besides unrefined searches…

There is a new species of virus on the internet that likes to eat ancient Tumblr posts and barf them back up infested with adware - spyware - malware etc. The virus goes by names like TumGIR, TumBIG, TumPIK, or Tum(anything else but ‘blr’). The caps were added by me for emphasis so that maybe you can double check in case you’re not looking at an actual Tumblr post right now but one of these so-called “mirror” sites.

If you’re looking at this text through one of the counterfeit Tumblrs that I mentioned, then no link you click (assuming it even copies it with my links intact) will take you out; it will redirect you and show you all of the spam ads it wants to. So read carefully what url is showing on your browser right now.

If it is one of the untrustworthy ones I would suggest closing your browser window and doing whatever else you normally would in order to reset settings.

As far as my science fiction novel entitled “If And Only If,” the safest way to find it is by going to my Instagram:

@michelle.de.vandahlcourte

From there you can click on the link in my bio. It will take you to the beginning of the story on DeviantArt… the safe one! No malware.

P.S. None of this is Tumblr’s fault! It’s the malware/adware/spyware developers who are stealing people’s tumblr posts.

The actual content of this page appears below here👇

Section 21. 2 chapters, ending with chapter 79

↩️return to previous section, section 20

↩️↩️…and if you arrived here because of a search engine and you would like to read this story from the beginning, click here.

Swifty

The dude at the top seemed older than the rest. An authority figure perhaps? Would he be the one in charge; the one with whom Swifty would have to negotiate? If he was in charge, hanging back and staying at the top near the ship’s entrance seemed like a piss-poor leadership trait. Even if the woman was a specialist with her weapon and it was appropriate to just let her do her thing undistracted? Still, a bit closer to ground level on his part might be better for morale. But maybe he had some logistical reason for being deployed there – he suddenly looked familiar as well – perhaps something to do with tending to the ship.

It might also be that he wasn’t in charge, Swifty realized as he caught himself being both ageist and sexist, so he told his internal dialogue monster to nix the judgmental crap until he had chances to talk with them. The button that the guy had been hovering over on some holographic control panel retracted the ramp and bolstered the notion that he wasn’t necessarily in charge but rather had been posted there… overseeing some aspect of the ship.

The ship! It ended up being quite large compared to a Gay Deceiver, notwithstanding “bag of holding” rooms within, revealing not quite Battlestar or even Enterprise scale, but resembling an aircraft interior of C-5M proportions. Still trying to speculate as to the leader’s identity, he reasoned that pretty-boy gym-queen had been the only one to speak to him yet, but Priyanka-Power-Ranger (as he’d nicknamed her) was, so far, the clear bad-ass of the group.

Pretty boy’s gentle hand on Swifty’s shoulder, along with the general direction of foot traffic, guided him to a room resembling more of a large aircraft cockpit than a Star Trek class 1 heavy cruiser bridge. He was directed to sit on a longish comfortable couch by PBGQ on his right where he now relaxed with him and vacuum cleaner guru on the far end - other side of pretty boy. He followed suit and strapped himself in as they did with a fairly obvious restraint harness. Meanwhile, older man and Prajina took the upfront seats where one would imagine the pilot and copilot to be.

Correcting himself mentally, he caught his mistake: he had privately designated her as “Priyanka” for a mnemonic assist, but just now accidentally thought of her as Pra – –

Holy shit! He realized why she looked familiar. Prajina actually was her real name and she was the representative of Mitternacht Cryptosystems with whom he had been planning to meet in Germany in only a few more hours... had he not been abducted, had a shootout with aliens, witnessed a corpse desecration, etc. It appeared he would keep his appointment with her after all, only a tad farther away from Stuttgart than they’d planned.

“Ms. Ranganathan??” he ventured, his voice sounding more awestruck than he thought it would…

“Please Swifty, call me Prajina, as we are already on a first name basis online. In fact, everyone I know just calls me Praji.”

He was briefly taken aback by the use of his old nickname – and also noticed the older gentleman smirking just a little when she said “Praji...” Meaning? An inside joke perhaps. But he at once recognized the guy. His face, anyway. He tried to think… Inside of book cover jackets and on the backs of book cover jackets. Topological Vector Spaces for Dummies or something? No. Hilbert Spaces? Got it!

“Of course, Praji, then. And Dr. Sohibnazarov I presume?”

One Spock-like eyebrow went up right before the professor smiled and said “call me Alex, please” and was then interrupted by Praji speaking about some mathematics on the very edge of Swifty‘s comprehension. The Ploughman’s Trophy winner quickly obeyed her by setting something else on a virtual holographic control panel that shimmered into existence in front of him. Swifty felt motion. No noise or mechanical vibrations however. Most aircraft or spacecraft he’d been aboard had some, especially for a behemoth like this. And those holo-virtual keyboards? Beyond state of the art. The whole thing suddenly had a much-more-advanced-than-any-nation-on-earth feel to it.

It contained two, well… Well-known humans. One he’d interacted with online for months and whose life and background had been thoroughly vetted, and another who’d been making substantial mathematical contributions to this world since the late 90s. This had fueled an impulse to forget about the “they’re-not-humans-but-really-aliens-in-disguise” theory. But what if? If they’re aliens and they are among us, why couldn’t they have been here for decades?

Trying to sound nonchalant and just innocently curious, he proffered “you are all mathematicians, then,” ending with a subtle question mark tone. And, suddenly remembering his nickname anomaly, he injected “and how did you ever learn that I was called Swifty? I’m just curious…” Then in the interest of sounding polite: “Sorry for all the rapid questioning.”

Praji turned slightly and serious as can be cut in: “actually, I’m a cop. And forsooth, there be no secrets hidden from ye temporal constabulary,” she ended, with a wink before going momentarily back to her keyboard.

Was she leading into a Harry Harrison joke? If she knew about “Swifty” then perhaps she could know of his love for all things Stainless Steel Rat-ish. Waiting for a punch line involving perhaps an Italian slang word for toilet, he saw the South-Asian-looking man raise a firm right hand and upon eye contact from Swifty said “biochemist and pharmaceutical chemist. And I am Padmanabhan Thiagarajan, but most people call me `Rajan.”

The pretty boy in between them (whose right hand he noticed was holding Rajan’s left, upon which the chemistry guru wore a wedding band) raised his left hand, waved it through the air flamboyantly and with outrageous theatrics sang “Fashion designer! And artiste! I’m Eric. Just Eric. We’re here by accident; just along for the ride like you. Except instead of accidentally blowing ourselves up with a rocket launcher like you were about to, we were almost killed by nerve gas in the year 2140 when Praji rescued us…” He tapered it off a bit under his husband’s more serious but still pleasant gaze.

Anyway, Eric‘s left hand had a wedding band of the exact same engraving style, so he took that to mean they were married... And immediately replayed the last couple of minutes to try and recall if he’d been in any way flirtatious with this hottie. No. Not unless smiling at his silly Arnold impression counted. But more importantly: 2140? The Future?

Yes, time travel! That would explain so much…

Whoa! “Ye Temporel Constabulary?” Praji wasn’t leading into a Harrison joke, pun, or whatever. She was seriously trying to say that she’s a “time-cop.” In all of his ponderings about the unexplained cases of the last three decades, he’d never thought to explore a time travel angle – always preferring the alien theories instead. A bunch of future technology getting accidentally sent to “the past” a.k.a. “now” might certainly look like alien-related phenomena.

“...and I chose Swifty,” she continued now that the craft was in stable motion and she could turn away longer while leaving Alex at the controls, “because I know you’re uncomfortable revealing your real name.”

Then as Eric began to unbuckle himself a bit, suggesting the “fasten seatbelt sign” could have gone off somewhere, Praji continued: “Might and Magic by Jon Van Caneghem; a sample character on a five-and-a-quarter inch floppy. At a nearby off-campus apartment on John Hinkle Street, one of your five apartment mates came in and saw you exploring the caverns under Dusk and was intrigued enough to ask for an explanation.”

It was like she’d been following him for decades. No one, ever, had been told the real story of where the nickname came from. Most simply assumed it was something to do with him being a runner in track and field events back in his school days. Wild!

“Not wanting to risk your own characters, you teleported back to the inn and saved your session. Then you used the sample disk to give him a tour. Serena, Crag The Hack, and Swifty Sarg were amongst the sample characters that came with the game. As you demonstrated what items were in Swifty’s backpack, the noob couldn’t comprehend that it was a sample character and thought you had chosen Swifty as your own name… a name which he found amusing for some reason. He began addressing you by it in everyday life. It caught on, among your suite mates only, and would have ceased to ever be mentioned again after your second semester there… once you parted company with them. Once they found out you were gay.”

She continued on pleasantly and Swifty was somewhat relieved that the future was a world where being gay was no problem at all as he saw Eric in the corner of his vision, still holding Rajan’s hand, and leaning over to say something quietly to his husband.

“It would’ve ended, but you chose to keep on using it when a video arcade game would allow you six characters... sorry to interrupt,” she cut herself off and reached for some kind of satchel with a red cross on it; a first aid kit? As she fumbled through it for something she asked with an altered tone “do you have any reason to think weightlessness might give you nausea? Ever gotten seasick, airsick, or puked after a wild amusement park ride?”

Swifty immediately flashed back to the recent insiders at NASA who got him aboard the “vomit comet” (without telling him in advance the plane’s real purpose) and surprised him with weightlessness. So the answer was a resounding YES. In truth he’d been an alternate or third string back-up or something for an astronaut who was supposed to ___________ ___________ ___________ ___________ on a satellite to allow it to ___________ ___________ ___________ ___________ and avoid enemy satellite ___________ ___________ ___________ ___________. (Thoughts redacted.) so “yes” was all he said, knowing what was about to happen and that all of those things would take too long to explain even if he had been able and willing to talk about them.

Unknown to him, Praji could simultaneously switch off or destroy every single man made satellite orbiting the earth in 2019 with a word to her people in Trieste, switch off the internet also, shut down all cell phone transmissions on the planet… Basically terminate all worldwide telecommunications. As it was, nevertheless he had to behave as if word these conversations might one day reach his superiors.

As he uttered his monosyllable, the trio of little envelopes attached together was sailing in a gentle arc into Eric‘s free hand. They looked like individually wrapped alcohol wipe packets.

He broke hand-holding contact with Rajan and tore the little packets apart, handing one to each man on his left and right. He opened his own and Swifty followed his lead. “Wipe on the inside of a wrist – either one – like this for about ten seconds,” Eric advised in the most serious tone he had yet heard him use.

“Yes,” Alex interjected, “and make sure Eric does it right this time!” as his husband and Praji both looked amused, Eric meekly complied. He surmised that Eric must’ve gotten sick on one or more previous voyages.

Swifty doubted that he would fare any better and made a thorough effort to wipe the transdermal anti-nausea drug all over himself, until Praji held out a little tiny waste vacuum to collect all their debris.

The weightlessness arrived as if on cue and Swifty felt nothing bad; if anything, he felt happy and on the verge of giggling from the freefall.

“Or,” she continued “when you were only allowed five characters you shortened it to SWFTY for your high score entry. Then came USENET. Alt dot everything and especially sci dot cryptography. Your sig file contained it and your plan.txt had it for when people fingered your account on that old VAX/VMS system. Then your angelfire / lycos page… but you were already with NSA by then and they told you to cut the social media crap out. Around ‘98 was the last time you used it online.”

21 years ago, he thought. She didn’t look old enough to have been born yet – then caught himself as it registered: she’s a time traveler! She might not have been born yet for centuries.

“I didn’t intentionally vet you so exhaustively. But one of my drone programmers was a bit more stringent than I thought he would be when we sent your ‘life story’ drone back in time to the ‘60s to gather intel about you.”

Swifty interrupted her: “you’ve really had drones following me my entire life?” The amazed cryptanalyst reflected, trying to recall if he’d ever seen any evidence of them.

“Not exactly, since they’re capable of reading your thoughts and memories, we only had to make them materialize every few weeks in some cases. And no, you wouldn’t have seen them. They were quite assuredly invisible. But that wouldn’t have mattered most of the time since they can read your thoughts in your sleep whilst hovering over your house a good thirty meters up. Only up until 2017 though. After that we – –”

She was interrupted this time by the spacecraft being rocked by some kind of turbulence… the first instance Swifty noticed the thing actually feeling like any kind of craft at all.

“Time barrier! Gay bounce to Eden.”

Eric

“Um, Praji? That’s the thing you asked me to let you know about? It’s almost at zero–” she interrupted Eric before he could finish reporting to tighten his seatbelt or harness or whatever over his shoulders, thanked him, said something technical to Alex as Eric looked concerned, and simultaneously did that superhuman speed movement thing to get back in her own chair. The other guys hadn’t attempted to loosen the restraints yet. She made it just in time to buckle her self in before the gravity came back on.

He felt useful having been asked to watch the timer. In truth she would’ve normally had no problem entrusting it to Alex, but he was still unknowingly on that same drug they’d given Swifty and was tending to romantic fantasies and reminiscing about their time together unless she made a point to bark something technical directly at him.

The return to gravity, Eric observed, was not at all a problem for this trip. It reminded him of flopping down onto a mattress after a manic session of jumping up and down on one; no further “sickness” at all this time, making Praji’s other little hand vacuum completely unnecessary he thought, patting himself on the back. He dared allowed himself a glimpse of the cute older guy. Calvin. That had been the character’s name in the movie. And one hundred percent certifiably gay according to Praji who admitted to having time “probes” watching the guy for his whole life; he tried not to smile too creepy when she talked about that, but hello!? She actually didn’t know what devices he was picturing. Oh well, different connotations for the same word, he supposed.

Calv- - - Swifty, looked equally relieved when they returned to normal gravity. And he was un-shyly honest in declaring right away that, yes, he too would probably be sick in zero-gravity. Humans of this time had some kind of space travel already. Right? Eric searched his memory and again was reminded that never paying much attention in school had been a poor series of choices. Some thing about landing spread eagle popped into his mind – a silly joke between him and an off-limits friend in the class whose current bf at that time had known Eric since summer camp days in their tweens. So he honestly kept his flirting controls on mute with the twink.

But the fact that the old twentieth century film narrator casually said the eagle thing had occurred in ‘69… had made them both lose it. Predictably what followed was: office, detention, call to Eric’s stepparents, their standard punishment for being – – he stopped himself from thinking about it. Street kids at Stonewall that same year: one had scalding water thrown on him by a parent before throwing him out at the age of 14; yes, gay kids back then had it so much worse. He wondered what Calvin – Swifty had had to endure.

Once again he tried to involve Rajan. There was something important he needed to text him about.

***hey. was i not supposed to say anything to Paul Dano here about us being from the future?

He thought to Rajan.

***after vag- Prajina’s kinda Long lecture about how we couldn’t accidentally negatively change history,

space-time-probability continuum, moving around within the five-space, everything that can happen to the state vector does happened to the state vector...

Sorry for the accidental text dump. It’s from that talk-to-text memory-aid thingy that switched on when it heard her speaking. Smart-ass software! It just assumes that I’m too stupid to comprehend –

and that I’ll need to go back over it later… OK, it kind of assumed correctly [(future laughing emoji)]

***anyway, I thought I saw you giving me a ‘look’ when I mentioned that part. Was i

Padmanabhan finished another file he’d been editing in his mind and texted back:

╬ ╬ ╬ it’s okay dear. That wasn’t the look. It was when you said “almost killed by a nerve gas.” Reminded me that I technically did get you killed! Both of us. If Wonder Woman here hadn’t shown up using some advanced alien technology that’s beyond my wildest imagination, we would be dead. To hear her tell it, it sounds like there exists a parallel universe right now where we are dead – and it’s my fault.

*** well don’t worry, we were lucky to get Super-Praji universe for our own consciousnesses (sp?) to be in

*** it’s not nearly as bad as the universe where you chose Boy Barbie instead of me and suffered the rest of your life regretting your mistake becau...

╬ ╬ ╬stop Rolla! There is NO other universe where I chose Boy Barbie! It will always be You in all universes [(rainbow row of every color beating heart animojis)]

***awww! [(watery eyes with running mascara animoji)]

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

“Did I hear something I shouldn’t have a few moments ago?” The interruption was in a pleasant enough tone, Eric noted, smiling pleasantly back at... Swifty. That’s it. (Note to self, stop calling him Paul Dano or Calvin Wier-Fields in your head – you’re enough of an idiot that sooner or later you’ll let it slip out.)

Swifty continued: “about being from the future, and time travel? Your secret’s safe with me.”

The conversation shifted to something with Praji over tech stuff as she intervened and assured him it wasn’t a problem, but Eric suddenly got a chill.

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

***Um, Rajan? Ppl from this time didn’t have access to “thought texting” as my grandpa used to call it, right? I mean, he chimed in, talking about exactly what my concern was, right after I told you. But even in our time people can’t hack into a private session between us right?

╬ ╬ ╬ No Dear. He probably doesn’t even know “thought texting” exists. Both my grandmothers and my great uncle Ravi used to call it that also. The guy’s just very good at picking up on cues, verbal and nonverbal. He probably noticed the same “look” that you thought I was giving you, interpreted it the same way, correlated it with what was last sa...

***Ok, Hunk, I gets it. So our technology is still safe

╬ ╬ ╬um hmm

***good, because i love our technology.

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

Eric searched rapidly for a file from his friend Castadiva’s birthday bash about seven years ago, quickly found it in recents – because it was too good to not keep using frequently – and sent it to his husband.

It only took Padmanabhan a few seconds to burst out laughing at the vid scene of Eric doing karaoke to Kip Dynamite’s “Always and Forever.” He started the clip right at “Yes, I love technology… But not as much as you, you see… But I still love technology…” And then looped it. Neither of the other future people knew what silliness these guys were up to, so Young Rajan’s outburst seemed inexplicable to them also. He got it under control quickly, but still got a curious look from Swifty.

“Hey, so what are we doing now exactly? I mean we landed – back on Earth, right?” Eric ventured noting that they’d had gravity for a couple of minutes or so, not worried that blurting things out now and interrupting might be a problem; since they were all friends at this point, yes? Otherwise why make a special trip to save Swifty? This part of the voyage had made more sense than going back to the previous year and running a shuttle bus service had – presumably to get those people off the island but erasing their memories first, after much confusion…

Seeing Praji accidentally meet her great-great-grandmother when they were the same age…

Eric being “looped” for the first time… Not recognizing himself at first and actually checking himself out from a distance (weird), not realizing that it was him from 15 minutes in the future.

But yeah this made sense: rescuing a guy who’s in trouble, being attacked by bizarre things, and beating the bizarre things! Bizarre things which he’d learned had tried to kill him and his husband by placing a boobytrapped nerve gas canister in hell-hole. He had wondered how in the world they could have known they’d be there spelunking… then remembered: they’re time travelers also. Well, that’s gonna take some getting used to, he thought.

After a pause of a few seconds and more “button pushing” by the math geniuses up front, Eric got his answer: we’re not on Earth, but we are “Steppin’ Into Eden, Yeah, Brother” Alex sang deeply in what was probably the best mood he’d seen him in since being rescued. Well, Eric sympathized, he’d be cranky too if he woke up with the body and face of a decent looking older teen and suddenly got transformed into a late forty-something professor-type dude.

While Star Trek TOS wasn’t his forte, the things with music tended to stick more with him; he recognized the episode. “No poison fruit or corrosive grass burning the feet I hope?” Eric said, aiming for a friendly tone. He knew this guy only like 1% better when he knew Swifty.

Alex smiled at him, acknowledging that he knew the episode, but then he also threw in a quip that the planet was partly based on “Shore Leave” as well. Unless that one had a memorable song (it did have Finnegan mocking Kirk to Irish jig music, but no Spock on a lyre jamming with space hippies) he wouldn’t necessarily be able to conjure up any images just now.

Psiynet down. Not on Earth. Plus being in the past? Eric couldn’t look up anything Alex might say, on his future version of “the Internet” and display it in his mind like he usually did when trying to bullshit his way through intelligent conversation with Rajan’s friends. So not even a good chance of faking it. Rajan caught his eye and did that intuitive thing that Eric had been trying to teach him for two years. Yay! Gold star for you mister! All the info came flooding in on his mind monitor.

After only a couple of moments, which Eric appeared to be using to allow the professor to concentrate on his oh-so-important button-pushing, he implored (like a person who had seen the episode) and with genuine interest: “so there’s something here that will read our minds and make whatever we want really happen?? Can I make a damsel-in-distress dress like Yeoman Barrows wore?”

He nodded, swiveling his chair around to finally have a more proper conversation now that he’d stowed or switched off that holo control panel. “Far more elaborate than that. A whole renaissance masquerade ball full of people, if you’d like, in every outfit you can imagine,” Alex expounded as if lecturing to a class, but in his friendliest mood yet, “also far better than anything my silly Stalko-Taco can do.”

That perked Swifty up again. Not wanting to monopolize the conversation, Eric went back to editing another video clip to put in his head cloud for Rajan to see. To avoid staring off into space and making it obvious that he was composing DM‘s in his head, he pretended to be intensely studying some (presumably alien) hieroglyphic-type writing on one wall.

“You own Stalko Taco? Did you create, him… It? I’ve been tracking its activities for decades now!” Swifty interjected, suddenly seeming both excited and astonished.

“We know! That’s part of why we’re here; the inability of certain humans to forget about Stalko-Taco.” Before Alexander The Erudite could continue, Eric slipped in: “and yes, your first guess was correct, it is a he. At least the cartoon in the commercials used a male voice when it sang and talked…” he trailed off when he saw Swifty’s glazey-eyed look of puzzlement.

“Commercials?? Cartoons?” the confused cryptanalyst voiced what his state of mind obviously was, going by his facial expression.

It’s “creator” picked up again: “The commercial was for a regional fast food chain – in our time,” Alex motioned to Eric, “called Wokkon The Wild Side… with wok-on spelled W-O-K-K-O-N.”

“Oh! I had always thought it was just ’walk on,’ like the Lou Reed song” Eric had to slide in since his video edit was complete and pretending to stare at alien hieroglyphs was really boring him.

“Oh wow!” Swifty reflected, raising a thoughtful finger and appearing to recall something from distant past, “they had a place with almost that name when I was in grad school. But it was ‘wok on.’ Did they make it all the way to the 2140’s I wonder?”

“Mmm, probably not. A number of places right now – your time that is – are using the same name around the country. At least since I got here around ‘92, and most of them unrelated… And none of them are related to the one from Kentucky in the 2130’s or 40’s…

…The name wasn’t just a pun on the song, but also a nod to a place in England where the owner met her husband. Or maybe near where they had their honeymoon. I knew their kids, Xia and Yiming who had each sometimes hung out in the Oakey-Dokey parking lot with their various groups of friends. I truly hadn’t wanted to inflict any damage upon their property and always felt bad about it. Praji later helped me open a miniature wormhole back in the future, inside their safe deposit box at their bank, where I provided them more than enough money to cover the damages. They could even buy a new giant taco if they wanted.”

Swifty’s look was only slightly less befuddled as he held off on asking what an Oakey-Dokey parking lot was in order to take in more of the Stalko-Taco story. He’d dropped Butthead’s phone in Houston back on earth, but it was locked anyway so he wouldn’t have been able to use any recording app. He’d simply need to rely on his pseudo eidetic memory as well as he could. Alex continued:

“They usually do okay near university campuses or in college towns because the name makes them sound hip. That is, until people make the association with the song Eric was referencing. Then the politically correct reflex kicks in, amplified if it’s a college crowd,”

Alex paused for air and to see what Praji was motioning him about from the next room involving an antique cell phone looking thingy on the chair next to him. It might have been a satellite phone, Swifty pondered, but it was a model he’d never seen before. Too much wild new info to catalog – focus, he told himself. On the Taco.

So Eric, having searched for the lyrics in his own database offline, joined back in: “oh yes, it was a very insensitive way that the singer referred to women of African ancestry. Maybe by our century people forgot.”

“Anyway,” Alex resumed, “that same type of alien technology from ‘Shore Leave,’ or later – what was it,” he paused, tapping a finger to his chin to recall, “oh… Samuel L. Jackson, Dustin Hoffman,”

“Sphere!” Swifty buzzed in for the win. Eric honestly had never heard of the film even though he was considered an old-movie buff by most of his circle of friends.

“Yes! That was it. So now you’ve got the general idea of how the tech is supposed to work. And of course, just like in TV and movies, when someone who isn’t clued in on what it is or how to use it… just happens to stumble upon it,” Alex paused for a breath seeing that Eric was eager to speak up.

“Something silly happens, like you bring a four meter tall restaurant mascot to life! But why was it a taco and not an eggroll or something, or a giant blob of noodles like on Portlandia?”

Eric innocently babbled, getting a short laugh from Swifty. “And why would you wish for that?”

Swifty puzzled along as he digested this. But it was starting to make sense. The technology was Shore Leave / Sphere. The fact that it manifested as a giant taco was just part of the accidental use of the technology which Alex was just getting to.

“OK, time out. Eric, we’re getting a bit too far off the subject, and I can always explain more later.”

Alex added, “and no, I didn’t ‘wish for it,’ exactly” he chuckled, addressing Swifty. “It was 4:30-ish in the morning in a sleepy suburb in Kentucky where restaurants still close, and I was hungry! What I actually kind of wished, if anything, was that some employees might show up extra early to work and be willing to zap some food hot for me. I might have looked into this advertising gimmick’s eyes while thinking it. Since the alien device didn’t exactly understand human psychology and thought processes…”

“Stalko-Taco was born!” Eric clapped gleefully. “Oh, and Rajan texted me the explanation of why the restaurant chain didn’t choose a giant spring roll or bowl of noodles or anything, so, got it,” he sang, giving Alex a brief thumbs up.

Swifty took a turn at doing the one eyebrow thing but very subtle, as he was quite sure he hadn’t seen Eric pull out a phone or any other kind of device to get a text in the entire time they’d been chatting. But he reasoned they might have some other technology for that, since they were partial to holographic virtual keyboards, control panels, etc.

Before the professor could continue any longer, Praji came bounding in from the other “room,” which Eric now noticed resembled more of a cramped equipment closet.

She mainly attempted to address Alex, but also the room in general, but was about to find herself momentarily interrupted.

“That turbulen…”

Rajan cut in casually with “and speaking of the Oakey-Dokey!” He caused a little hologram of Prajina in roughly a help-me-Obi-Wan-size to appear in front of him. But with good enough resolution to see her smiling with sort of bluish-green teeth.

“Holy crap! Where’d you get that ridiculous thing?” Eric heard her laugh for the first time since he’d known her.

“Ranatunga, from the school paper, near the end of junior year. He gave me a copy,” Eric observed his husband to say as his smirky smile did that cute, slightly lopsided thing.

She explained to me and Swifty that she’d gone to see Alex at work on a slow night and decided to try the Mavis thing with the slushy machines. In another holo Alex was there with her, waving at the camera in his Kal-looking shirt.

“But the greens and blues obviously had dyes that overpowered the others,” Rajan resumed, “and gave her the turquoise effect,” he continued to explain to us.

***when he implied he’d worked at an Oakey-Dokey i thought mathboy meant as CEO of their corporate office (genuinely surprised future animoji) isn’t he like a trillionaire or something back in our time?

╬ ╬ ╬his dad thought it’d be a good experience for him. But their family does have a controlling interest; though im not sure if mathboy knew that at the time

Returning to “serious Praji” for a bit, she re-started: “That turbulence we had was actually due to a brane-quake, which the computer’s AI safety moiety reacted to.”

“Does that mean it’s all in our heads?” Eric asked innocently and honestly, thinking she meant “brain.”

She looked at Rajan who nodded almost imperceptibly and then Eric excused himself, rattling off: “oh, sorry, never heard of a B-R-A-N-E brane.”

More curious looks from Swifty, who had heard the term but was now more fascinated by how Eric was getting information. She continued “it was the Gay Bounce program, that Alex-the-Heinlein-fan suggested including, which brought us here. This emergency homebase that we created is in a pocket realm, outside of normal time and space. It does feature all the replicator technology or whatever you want to describe it as – for running simulations relevant to our mission, and for R&R. But we didn’t come here for pleasure this time. So masquerade balls and giant bunny rabbits will need to wait until we figure out why it detected a universe that was a hostile environment and bounced us here for safety.”

╬ ╬ ╬They named their spacecraft “Gay Deceiver” and Robert Heinlein’s…

Eric read carefully and grasped that the “Gay Bounce” didn’t refer to some kind of dance they might later do in a simulated nightclub on pleasure-world here.

***OK, thanks dear, but I DID already have sort of a notion about that one, since she followed it with the word “program.” wasn’t gunna to interrupt again.

Eric texted, lying small and whitely, as he had in fact been considering interrupting with a dance joke even though he did truly understand it to be a type of program run by the ship’s computer. He was not quite that stupid, but he would always happily admit that he was quite that silly.

“What part, of what universe” Alex said with a politely raised hand “were we trying to materialize in that the computer found to be hostile?”

“Earth. Just regular Earth in 2018. In Swifty’s home timeline a few months before the attack,” she answered ominously as Eric wondered how such an innocent time and place that produced Dua Lipa’s One Kiss could possibly have become “hostile.”

Continue on to next section…

If And Only If

by Michelle Viviénne de Vandahlcourte

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

First Edition. © December 16, 2015.

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moved2usagiiboo · 2 years

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AHHHHHHOSGSKAHA IM MOVING ACCOUNTSISGDJSHA @/UsagiiBoo

If you guys wanna follow me or whateva, feel free to do so💕💞💞

Thank you so much for all the support on this account, I made so many fond memories here, but it has come to a point where I feel disgusted looking at this account and I want to start over. I will be much more active both writing-wise and socializing-wise on UsagiiBoo. If this account is used, it will mostly be for signing up for collabs, reposting stories, or just random things.

And I forgot to mention, thank you all for 1,500. It was a massive milestone and something I never thought I reach. Thank you again, ciao ciao 💕💕

#mizu's goodbye #THE STORIES WILL STAY UP UNTIL THEY ARE REPOSTED ON MY NEW ACCOUNT #UsagiiBoo

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dawnagustd · 2 years

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masterlist

Hi, I’m Sevń!

Welcome to my collection of stories. Everything here is rated 18+ and up, and is only intended for mature audiences. Minors that are caught reading and/or interacting within this space will be blocked.

These are my original writings that belong to me. No one is permitted to copy, claim, translate, or repost my work. The credits for the graphic creations go to @itaeewon and they are not to be reposted or claimed as your own.

𝄃 latest: ⤿ hours || jjk

𝄃 requests: ⤿ closed

𝄃 genre guide: ♖ angst | ♡ fluff | ♘ smut/mature

𝄃 drabbles:

⤿ Cool’n - ♘ established relationship | brat tamer!seokjin | sugar baby!reader

You’re just out doing some hot girl shit with your friends, but your boyfriend does not approve.

𝄃 one shots:

⤿ Strings - ♖♡♘ rich dilf!seokjin | ceo!seokjin | strangers to lovers | new year’s eve au | bad habits universe

After getting ditched by your friends at a New Year’s Eve party, you and Seokjin decide it’s best to stick together—since neither of you are in the partying mood. You two may be from different worlds, but you have at least one thing in common. It’s been ages since you’ve had a decent hook up, so why not bring in the new year putting an end to your dry spell?

There is one rule, however. When the morning comes, you both have to go separate ways—and carry on as if it never happened.

An eye for an eye is the old saying. But sometimes, people are greedy when it comes to revenge. Seokjin is that guy. Cross him over, and he’ll burn down everything in his path. People may compare him to a monster, but you see him as a man who’s been wrongfully accused. He’s your dark knight, and you are his angel. Ride or die describes your relationship perfectly, but you wouldn’t compare yourself to Bonnie and Clyde.

If revenge is best served cold, then betrayal must be delivered with a block of ice.

𝄃 series: ⤿ coming soon…

𝄃 drabbles:

⤿ Always & Forever - ♡♘ husband-to-be!yoongi | established relationship | wedding day au | poc!reader

No matter the circumstance, Yoongi’s always there for you.

Part II - Part III (coming soon)

𝄃 one shots:

⤿ Bad Habits - ♖♡♘ f*ckboy!yoongi | exes to lovers | exes with benefits | new year’s eve au

You and Yoongi ended your relationship three years ago. However, neither of you can ever seem to resist the urge of sneaking off and screwing each other until the sun comes up. Your friends beg you to stop seeing him, knowing he isn’t good for you. But how can you stay away when you see him at a New Year’s Eve party, looking hotter than ever? There’s nothing to worry about; you know exactly how to play his game. Or so you thought.

⤿ Big Deal - ♘ idol!yoongi | mature comedy

“It’s never a big deal until it becomes your big deal,” Yoongi learns.

⤿ Dirty - ♘ old west au | dom!yoongi

If you play nice, they’ll always do you dirty.

⤿ Mu$ic Fairy - ♖♘ rapper!yoongi | podcaster/songwriter!oc | black!oc

When Yoongi’s career started to kick off, he never imagined he’d have a secret admirer this early in the game. Sure, random women throw themselves at him all the time, but this one has a different approach when it comes to getting his attention.

⤿ Perfect Moments ft. Jungkook - ♘ boyfriend!jungkook | threesome au | sequel to Perfect Men by @/kookskingdom

Your birthday isn’t over yet; why end the party so soon?

⤿ The D is for Effort - ♖♘ coworker!yoongi | rivals/coworkers to ??? | office au | corporate au

You’re butchering this report, but your pride will not allow you to let Yoongi help. Too bad he’s had enough of your stubbornness.

𝄃 series: ⤿ coming soon…

𝄃 drabbles:

⤿ Quickies - ♘ established relationship | boyfriend!hoseok

You bring your boyfriend home with you for summer break, and he tries to get in your pants every chance he gets.

𝄃 one shots:

⤿ Off Duty - ♡♘ dilf!hoseok | nanny!reader | bdsm au | friends to lovers

Mr. Jung helps you enjoy your night off.

𝄃 series:

Encore | Danger! | Party Time ⤿ series drabbles: Kink Hours Drabble

𝄃 drabbles:

⤿ Bad For You - ♡♘ bad boy!namjoon | best friends to lovers | fwb to lovers | idiots to lovers

Namjoon’s got it bad for you. He just doesn’t know how to say it.

𝄃 one shots:

⤿ I Feel It Too - ♡♘ Namjoon doesn’t believe in love, he believes in sex—no strings attached, of course. Building sex bots would not only satisfy his needs but make him a very rich man. However, he needs to understand a level of intimacy he can’t explore with just anyone. That’s why you’re the perfect candidate.

𝄃 series: ⤿ coming soon…

𝄃 drabbles: ⤿ coming soon…

𝄃 one shots:

⤿ Demon Time - ♖♘ strangers to lovers | nightclub owner!jimin | stripper!reader | featuring female oc (Layla)

Breaking up with a cheater isn’t always enough. Sometimes you have to show a bitch how it’s done.

⤿ Stained T-Shirt - ♡♘ roommates/friends to lovers | f*ckboy!jimin | poc!reader

Jimin’s a f*ckboy, but you can help yourself. You like him, and he likes you too, you think?

𝄃 series: ⤿ coming soon…

𝄃 drabbles: ⤿ coming soon…

𝄃 one shots:

⤿ Rain On Me ft. Jungkook - ♘ slight strip club au

It’s about time you, Jungkook, and Taehyung have a little “private” show.

⤿ Surprise! - ♘ established relationship

Your boyfriend is sending you nudes, again… And also helping you discover hidden kinks?

⤿ Unconditionally - ♖♡♘ divorce au | exes to lovers au | parents au

A mother’s love is unconditional, and they deserve just as much. They aren’t always perfect in the other’s eyes, but to some people—mom is as close to perfect as you can get.

Everyone makes mistakes, we’re human.

𝄃 series: ⤿ coming soon…

𝄃 drabbles:

⤿ Hours - ♘ neighbors to lovers | implied unestablished relationship to established relationship

You walk across the hall and visit your neighbor Jungkook every Wednesday to drink, chill, sing some karaoke… watch some Netflix. But you always end up wobbling back to your apartment after hours of doing all kind of unholy things. Not tonight.

𝄃 one shots:

Camp Crystal Lake is under new management. You’ve come back to your old hometown to gather some work experience before graduation. You know the dark history surrounding these grounds, but the real challenge is going to be a hot guy standing in your kitchen, the same guy that made you leave in the first place.

⤿ Peaches - ♘ Jungkook can’t keep his hands to himself, or his mouth.

⤿ Perfect Moments ft. Yoongi - ♘ boyfriend!jungkook | threesome au | sequel to Perfect Men by @/kookskingdom

Your birthday isn’t over yet; why end the party so soon?

⤿ Playdates - ♘ dilf!jungkook | neighbors au | single dad!jjk

Jungkook calls you out and shows you what you’ve been missing.

⤿ Rain On Me ft. Taehyung - ♘ slight strip club au

It’s about time you, Jungkook, and Taehyung have a little private show.

After months of shooting your shot, Deadly Svn’s lead singer, Jungkook, finally messaged you back—with some coordinates? Where will they take you?… And what will be in store for you when you arrive?

𝄃 series:

⤿ Dilemma - ♡♘ fuckbuddies to lovers | slice of life | mini series

It’s not weird for Jungkook to show up without texting first. But this week, he’s caught you at a bad time.

𝄃 OT7 WORKS:

⤿ Unholy Night Series

#bts masterlist #bts fics #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfics #bts x you #bts fanfiction #bts stories #sugakookitty

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year

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Here, Kitty, Kitty (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Thank you all so, so, soooo much for the love on this story & all my other works! Stay safe! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*************

ELEVEN.

You’ve never been so happy to hear the lunch bell ring. That allowed you to finally get this perverted, little grape out of your office and chow down on your ramen.

You plaster a kind smile on your face as you stare Minoru Mineta and his lecherous eyes from across your desk. The kid is so tiny that he has to sit on two of your textbooks–one being on how to deal with children with behavioral problems and the other on the history of UA High.

“Looks like we’re out of time, Minoru,” you announce sweetly. “I hope our talk helped you in some way. Just remember what I said.” You sit back in your chair, patiently waiting for him to regurgitate your advice.

“Even though turning me into a human football isn’t permitted at school if I look at a girl’s breasts, it’s her right to defend herself for my inappropriate acts,” he recites to you. “Oh! And no more trying to crash girls’ study nights pretending to be a new girl on campus.” He sighs, looking saddened at the loss. “That wig cost me $20,” he mutters.

You smile, happy with this progress. “That’s right. Thank you, Minoru!” You wait until he jumps out of the chair and bounces out the door to your office to finally let your smile drop. “Jesus,” you sigh, yawning and stretching your arms high over your cat ears.

It’s been a long day and it’s only mid-afternoon. You know your day is not over yet, and it won’t be for a while, so you decide to head to lunch early without Nemuri.

As you gather your lunch from your mini fridge behind your along with your bottle of Kombucha, you shoot a quick text to Nemuri saying you’ll be waiting in the break room for her and Mic to arrive. Several minutes you get a text back:

Muri: Hey hon! Gonna show up to lunch a little late today. Mic ran into some trouble training some of the kids & now I’m pretty sure half of them are deaf

*Read at 1:05 PM*

You giggle despite the seriousness of the situation, knowing it was only a matter of time until Mic caused the destruction of dozens of students’ ears.

You: No worries! I’ll save y’all a seat in the break room

*Read at 1:07 PM*

After Nemuri shoots a heart emoji back to you, you lock up your office and venture down the hallway to the break room which is empty when you arrive. You decide to sit on the cozy-looking yellow couch in the back by the window that overlooks the UA campus and the blooming cherry blossom trees that line the windows and walkways outside. You can’t believe that April is already here! You swear that March was just a week ago.

Once you’re finished setting up your lunch, you get up to eat your plastic bowl of ramen in the microwave near the coffee machine. As you do, you hear the sound of boots thudding across the floor and into the breakroom.

You turn to greet whoever it is being the nice person you are, but your words lodge in your throat when you find Aizawa standing there. When his eyes lock with yours, everything in the room seems to disappear and all logic flies out the window. No matter how many times you see him, you can’t help the way your heart pounds and your pussy throbs at the sight of his muscular body under his tracksuit and those alluring, tired eyes.

It’s stupid, really, especially now since the two of you are on better terms now since you ran into each other at the gym. You can’t believe that was a month ago. You still can’t even believe he asked for your number. You were all smiles and your tail stood straight up the whole day. Since then, the most he’s texted you are reminders about staff meetings and telling you to make it back to your dorm safely after every day you clock out.

Though you yearn for more, especially after learning he has a thing for you too, you don’t push it since you know Aizawa isn’t exactly the “people” type. Socializing just isn’t his thing. And you certainly don’t block the blessing you have with texting him, to begin with. You know that all of this could be taken from you in an instant if he were to ever find out your secrets.

You have hope that you’re good with your vigilante secret. You haven’t seen much of Aizawa in the late night hours when you take the streets as Night Claw. Though it disappoints you, you also know that he’s a busy guy and he doesn’t owe you his time that he should be giving to his job and his daughter. That isn’t even what you’re most worried about.

Over the past month since March, you’ve been visiting Aizawa and Eri at their dorm every night in your cat form and sneaking out before morning. You make sure to leave before Aizawa heads home after work so you’re waiting for him at his door, meowing and purring for him. You have come to love his touches and Eri’s joyful laughter as she plays with you.

Though you know it’s all because they think you’re a normal, four-legged animal, you still allow yourself to feel that little piece of joy every time you sit in Aziawa’s lap while Eri is curled into his side, a movie playing on the TV on a regular night before bedtime.

You’ve made this your routine and new job, so you’ve taken extra precautions to make sure no one finds out about your nightly visits, especially Nemuri and Mic. You send both of them texts every night now that you’re going out, ensuring that they only know about Night Claw and nothing about you pretending to be Aizawa’s adopted pet.

Though it is taking its toll on you physically to the point where your sleep schedule is fucked up and you’ve had to sleep as soon as you get back to your dorm before your shifts (that’s why you love the weekends; you can sleep for days), you take all of it gladly, just wanting to see Aizawa and Eri smile. You feel like it’s your duty to make them happy, especially Aizawa. You’ve grown accustomed to his smile, hooked on the comfort he feels around you. You want it every day, all the time.

And you don’t plan on stopping this anytime soon…until someone finds out. But no one will. You’re sure of that.

Realizing you’ve been staring at the man for too long, you flush and plaster on a smile. “Hey, Aiz– uh, Shouta,” you greet him. You’re still getting used to calling him by his first name now that you’re…friends? Acquaintances? Friendly coworkers? You’re not quite sure, but you refuse to put a label on it. You’re just glad you’re closer than you were a month ago.

Aizawa gives you a nod as he walks into the room. He stands next to you at the coffee machine and begins to move in silence as he prepares his coffee. He’s so close that you can smell his cologne, and it’s doing things to you. You can feel the body heat radiating off of him in waves along with his dizzying scent of eucalyptus and mint. Your pussy throbs in need and you have to clench your thighs together as you stiffly stand there, waiting for your ramen to finish heating up.

The air in the room shifts with him near, turning into something that is tense with heat. Could it be desire? You wouldn’t put it past you. Aizawa is the damn definition of desire with his rugged, handsome face and capable hands that haunt your dreams.

“How’d the talk go with Mineta?” he suddenly asks, his gruff and deep voice filling your ears.

You glance at him questionably, wondering how he knew this. He smirks down at you as he pops a dark roast coffee pod into the top of the coffee machine and presses a button. “He came from my class for starin’ at Yaoyorozu’s chest and got the boot from Ashidou. I sent him down to you.”

You nod understandably. You knew someone had to have sent Mineta to your office today since he never would’ve come willingly. “It, uh…went,” you carefully answer. Aizawa raises a brow. “He’s never been in my office before, but I’ve heard the kid has a thing for the girls and their body parts. Guess you see that a lot in boys these days.”

You sigh tiredly as the microwave finally beeps and you take your piping hot ramen out. Aizawa’s coffee finishes too, filling the air with the scent of roasted coffee beans. “He looks like he was a handful. I can practically see the exhaustion in you.”

His dark eyes roam down your form. Despite the modest white blouse and pencil skirt you’re wearing, you still can’t help but feel naked under his intense stare.

You flush, biting back a goofy smile with a smirk. “You look like you could use a nap yourself,” you giggle. “Classes beatin’ you up?”

Anyone who is anyone will be able to see the dark shadows under Aizawa’s eyes which are more intense than usual. He sighs into his mug, leaning against the counter as you proceed to take a seat on the couch. You’d ask for him to join, but you’re unsure if that is too much.

“It’s Eri,” he admits tiredly. “I tried to get her to go to sleep last night and that didn’t happen until 1 AM. She kept wantin’ to play with her new cat even though she’d be right back with us tomorrow.”

Your ears twitch excitedly at the sound of Eri and the mention of her cat. You quickly hide your immense excitement with a questionable stare. “Back with you tomorrow?” you question curiously. “What do you mean? Where the hell does she go if she’s a housecat?”

Aizawa chuckles to himself, still leaning against the counter. He looks so relaxed despite still being in a school setting. It’s a nice change. “She’s more of an indoor/outdoor cat, I’ve realized. I found that out when she jumped from my dorm window the morning after I brought her home.”

Your eyes widen in shock, playing the part, and he snorts. “No lie; she bolted across campus and almost gave me a heart attack. Eri cried like I’d never seen her cry, but the cat ended up coming back. I think she just likes the outdoors.”

Hearing him sound so baffled by your behavior in your cat form makes you want to scream with laughter, but you hold back. “Totally understandable,” you reply as you twin a heaping amount of ramen around your plastic spoon. You can’t keep an independent, single city girl like her cooped up in a room.” You finally slurp up the noodles and broth.

But as soon as the ramen is in your mouth, you immediately spit it into a napkin, alarming Aizawa. “Ugh!” you shout in utter disgust, pushing the bowl away. “That’s disgusting!”

“What is?” he curiously asks, a cute little scowl on his face. You motion towards the ramen you bought a day ago from the vegan supermarket Nemuri told you about. “This trash they have the nerve to call ‘ramen’. I should’ve never let Nemuri talk me into trying the substitute noodles. Supposedly, they’re better than egg noodles because they’re made with tofu.”

Aizawa snorts at your angered rant. “Rule number one: never let Nemuri talk you into trying anything she likes. Her tastes are…” He trails off, searching for a word. “Deplorable?” you scoff. He cracks a smile. “Eccentric,” he decides before sipping his coffee.

You exhale exhaustively as you stare down at your shit ramen. You weren’t planning on spending money today that you need for grocery shopping and paying utilities next week, but you suppose you could spare something for a good lunch from the sandwich shop across the way. You pick up the ramen bowl and dump it before packing up the rest of your lunch. “Guess I’m headin’ out for takeout again,” you sigh.

Aizawa silently watches you, his expression unreadable. You feel slightly scrutinized under his gaze, but maybe that’s because of how awkward you feel right now under the intensity of his eyes. Does he do it on purpose? Does he like seeing you squirm?

Biting the inside of your cheek, you weigh the outcomes of your next question before finally blurting,

“Do you…wanna come with? If you’re hungry, that is. I’m just goin’ to that sandwich shop across the way.” You can already taste the mayo and sweet yellow onion on your favorite sandwich, making your stomach rumble. The thought of walking with Aizawa and sitting down with him for lunch, alone without Eri being a filler, also makes your tummy flip.

Aizawa doesn’t look like he was expecting this question. “Uh…” The word drifts from his lips as he stares at you, making you feel even more awkward. He scratches at his chin, looking sheepishly suddenly. “I’d definitely like to, but I’ve got some tests to grade.”

Disappointment makes your tail droop, but you ignore it. You have no right to feel this way. You two aren’t even dating! You’re not even sure you’re friends yet. You plaster on an understanding smile. “That’s okay; I get it. Those kids need your expertise.”

Aizawa nods, still giving you that unreadable stare. “Yeah.”

“I’ll see you later?” you ask as you hook your lunch bag over your arm.

Once again, Aizawa nods. “Yeah.”

The air suddenly becomes awkward and tense again, all of the easiness before gone. When one of the janitors comes in to whip himself up some iced tea, Aizawa leaves and you finally feel like you can breathe. When you head out to pick up your lunch, you let the warm sun and spring air wash over you, caressing your hurt feelings.

You feel greedy and desperate, trying to push Aizawa into something he may not be ready for. You haven’t exactly hinted that you want something more with him either or that you even feel the same way.

But how can you? He’s not only a pro hero and a professor, but he’s also a father. How can you be so sure this would work or that you wouldn’t be just a booty call for him?

‘You’re lying if you say you wouldn’t like that,’ a sly voice in your head hisses.

You groan inwardly, staring up at the clear, blue sky for answers to your dilemma. Because the truth is that you’d come running to Aizawa if he ever wanted a piece of your pussy.

Since the night you caught him masturbating in the privacy of his bedroom, your dreams have been haunted by his dick and the way he said your name. You want him in your bed or to be in his, trapped under his body, his lips on yours and his cock filling you to the brim.

But with your secret habits looming over you, you know this could never be. Even if you were to date Aizwawa, you know that eventually, you’d have to tell him the truth about everything. You just can’t face that. Call yourself selfish, but you just can’t let this go. You can’t let him or Eri go.

You shut your intrusive thoughts off for the remainder of your break when you finally pick up your sandwich and head back to the school in time before your shift starts again. When you walk into the breakroom, you’re shocked to see Aizawa there again, standing by the sink.

“Oh, back again?” you ask, attempting to sound like you’re not hurting on the inside. “Did you forget something?”

You look for his mug that perhaps he’s cleaning out, but you see nothing. What else could he be in here for? You notice how tense he looks and your ears perk up in alarm, reacting to the tension radiating off of him. “No,” he huffs. “I-I mean, yes. Shit.” He sighs and looks down at the floor, shoving a hand in his pocket.

You blink at him, wondering what’s gotten into him. You’ve never seen him like this: so insecure and nervous. It is quite the contrast to his usual confident and intimidating aura. “Listen, what are you doing later?” he asks softly. “After work, I mean.”

You blink dumbly at him again, your heart picking up speed. Is he…? He couldn’t possibly be… “U-um, just goin’ home to do laundry for this week. Why?” Stupid hope blooms in your chest, making your tail swish excitedly behind you. Aizawa doesn’t notice, his eyes still on the ground.

“I mean…if you’re still up for some good ramen instead of that crap you had earlier, I know this really good ramen shop downtown that’s owned by a friend of mine. If you want, we could go together…” His suggestion turns into a mumble at the end as redness grows in his cheeks, causing him to hide behind his scarves in embarrassment.

You’ve never wanted to suck his dick more. “F-For dinner?” you softly stutter. “Like…as a date?”

Aizawa ticks his eyes up to you then and the entire room falls away, leaving you only with him. “If you want it to be,” he softly answers.

You know that if he asked you to take a trip to space, you’d say yes. You’d say yes to anything he wanted. A smile stretches across your lips, happiness exploding within you. The realization that this could be real is almost overwhelming; your secrets be damned. You want him. You want all of him.

“Sure; I’d really like that,” you giggle. “I can meet you there. Is seven an okay time?”

Aizawa’s shoulders droop as he sighs in relief. Did he think you’d say no? “It’s perfect,” he replies, his own smile stretching across his handsome face. “I’ll, uh…I’ll see you later then?” That shyness returns, making him look almost like a little schoolboy.

You nod excitedly and move out of the way for him to leave the breakroom. When you sit back down on the couch, you’re smiling from ear to ear and feeling like the world is one big, shiny place where nothing bad exists.

“Oh, hello, Shouta!” Nemuri’s sweet voice fills the air as her heels click toward the door. She sways her hips into the breakroom, smiling at you. “Hey, you!” she greets you as she plops down next to you on the couch, opening her bent box. “Sorry I’m late. Luckily, the kids weren’t deaf. I had to use my quirk on a few that were afraid to get checked out by Power Girl, but…”

She suddenly stops and takes one look at you before her red lips curl into a knowing smile. “Ooooh…what’s with that face, hon?”

You turn to her, fearful of her reaction. “What?” you ask. She giggles, poking at you. “You look like you just got stuck in your cute little tail by Cupid’s arrow. Did Aizawa talk to you?”

You can’t help the dreamy, dopey grin that curls onto your face again. “He did more than that: I think he just asked me out on a date.” Nemuri’s eyes widen as big as saucers and she practically jumps from her seat.

“Seriously?!” she shouts, earning a harsh shush from you. “What did he say? When are you going?” Her questions are like rapid fire, excited by this new information. You have no doubt she’ll be telling Mic too.

"Tonight at seven,” you proudly say. “We’re gonna meet up for dinner.” Already you can feel those nervous butterflies swarming your tummy. What will you wear? What will you talk about?

“Then before your date, you’re coming right over to my dorm so I can help you pick out an outfit,” Nemuri says with conviction. You go to protest, but she presses a finger to your lips. “No buts! We need this man so uncomfortable with how hot you look that he has no choice but to take you back here and love you down.” She winks at you suggestively.

Your mind drifts back to Aizawa’s hand wrapped around his wet cock, the moonlight hitting his face screwed in ecstasy. “You’re ridiculous,” you mutter to your friend, turning away to allow yourself to calm your horny ass down.

“And a seasoned hot girl,” Nemuri giggles. “Now onto more important things!” She nudges her hip with yours, looking at you in all seriousness. “You’ve got condoms?”

************

A half an hour before your date with Aizawa, you sit on your bedroom with your stomach feeling like it’s about to push up your lunch right out of your mouth.

You’ve spent the afternoon since you got home primping for tonight after Nemuri did your makeup. She went for a soft glam look that made your lips look plumper in the peachy Fenty Beauty gloss she applied to them and your face look like a glazed donut. That was the most you allowed her to do, refusing to step into one of her sexy little numbers for your first date with Aizawa.

Instead, you settled for a simple bodysuit that slims out your body and accentuates your curves, hip-hugging jeans, and flats to make catching the bus easier. You aren’t due to catch it for another twelve minutes, but your feet are itching to get moving as if you’re keeping Aizawa waiting. But you can’t even bring your body to stand up and check your hair or spritz more perfume on your collarbone.

You’re so utterly nervous. You thought taking a shot of Moscato and a sniff of your stash of catnip would’ve to help curb the nervous butterflies in your stomach, but nothing has helped. If anything, you feel even more paranoid.

You’ve had to keep your phone charging in your bathroom just to keep it out of sight so you’re not constantly waiting for Aizawa to call. He said he’d be there, so why are you so apprehensive?

Maybe it’s because you still can’t believe he asked you out. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve been on an actual date and you’re afraid you’ll fuck it up. Or maybe because of the possibility it could end in a one-night stand. You don’t want anything to do with that, no matter how hot Aizawa makes you.

“Ugh!” you groan, dragging your painted nails through your hair. This couldn’t have been the worse time to start having a breakdown. “Get it together,” you hiss to yourself before standing, planning to walk to the end of the block to catch your bus a little early.

But as you do, your ringtone begins to blast from your bathroom. With your heart lurching into your throat, you hurry to the bathroom to grab it. Disappointment floods you when you realize it isn’t Aizawa. However, that disappointment is soon replaced with concern. On your screen, the news app is open and an alert is flashing of a hostile situation taking place downtown.

WARNING: There has been a report of a robbery where several suspects wielding firearms are currently holding the overnight bank staff hostage. The police are currently working to defuse the situation and to find a way inside of the bank which the suspects have forcibly locked. All citizens living near the Bank of Musutafu are highly advised to stay clear of the bank’s premises and the surrounding area. Please stay in your homes if possible or leave the area IMMEDIATELY.

You gently place your phone down and look in the mirror. Above you is your clock which clearly shows that your bus will be here in ten minutes. How long were you sitting on your bed? You have no time to ponder that as you look from the news alert to your reflection. The girl with the cat ears, glossed lips, and lashes thick with mascara to frame her brown eyes stares back at you, silently asking you what will you do.

What will you do? To miss your first date with Aizawa, the very man you’ve been crushing on since you started working at UA, just to play hero would haunt your nights.

But the thought of at least not trying to help those poor bank workers and the police when you have the ability to do makes you sick. How selfish would you be to not be Night Claw tonight just because of a date with Aizawa? How is tonight any different? Crime doesn’t stop just because you’re desperate for dick.

Adrenaline begins to pump through your body, making your heart pound and your tail swish rapidly behind you. You can feel yourself being pulled in two different directions, each half of your subconscious screaming at you:

‘Just leave it alone!’ one side hisses. “Those people don’t need you! You’re not even a real hero. Imagine if this chance with Shouta never comes around again!’

‘No,’ another side firmly says. ‘You have a duty to the public. This is your city; your home. You need to protect it.’

‘What you need to do is finish getting ready for your date! Shouta will hate you if you show him up. He’ll never talk to you again.’

But the other part of you, the one that has values and morals, stands firm in her opinion, hitting you with encouragement and motivation to do what is right. ‘If Shouta admires you and your passion as a counselor, he’ll admire your passion as a vigilante. You have lives you need to save! Otherwise, why’d you never start this night job in the first place?’

You grip the sink counter. Tears begin to prick your eyes, threatening to ruin the mascara and light eyeshadow that Nemuri did a fantastic job on. ‘You haven’t even told him the truth yet. How can you date him and you’re still lying to him?’

Your eyes flick up to the clock. One minute left. The bus probably has left by now knowing how this shitty public transportation system works. “Shit,” you mutter.

Then, again, louder, “Shit!” as you slam your hands down onto the counter. Your claws suddenly protrude from your fingers, wanting desperately to claw at something to release your frustrations. Especially when you know what you must do.

With a lamented sigh, you take your phone off of the charger and click on Aizawa’s name from your contacts. When you put your ear to the phone, one lone, stubborn tear drips down your face. You quickly wipe it away, willing yourself to cut the bullshit and be a grown woman. This is the right thing to do.

“Please leave a message after the beep,” the automated voice says before a beep rings out in your ear, signaling the beginning of your sorry-ass voicemail.

“Hey, Shouta,” you sigh defeatedly. “It’s me. I’m so sorry! I lost track of the time!” You walk out of your bathroom and into the bedroom, kicking off your shoes as you do. “Listen…we might have to take a rain check on tonight.”

You stare at the open window where your curtains billow in the spring breeze teeming with nightlife and adventure. “Something came up.”

#shouta aizawa #shoutaaa #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #here kitty kitty #bnha smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #black writers #aizawa x black!reader #shouta aizawa x black!reader

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starbuckie · 3 years

Text

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing(s): college!peter parker x reader, dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!sam wilson x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader

words: 8.1k words

warnings: DARK!FIC, SMUT 18+ (unprotected sex, foursome turned fivesome, gangbang, non-con/dub-con, daddy kink, oral M and F-receiving, spit kink, degredation kink, praise kink, creampie), age-gap (reader is in her early 20s), cheating, angst, there’s like zero fluff

summary: peter should’ve made it back to the tower for date night on time, or maybe just before he found his girlfriend being fucked by three other superheroes.

a/n: eee my first dark fic! im so so happy with the way this turned out, and even though it was a pain in my ass for nearly three months, im so hapy to share it with y’all. this idea was brought up by an anon from @mypoisonedvine’s saturday sleepover a few months back, but i switched up tony and sam bc i didn’t like the tony and peter stuff. hopefully my smut has improved from the first time i wrote it in january, and just a reminder that in no way, shape, or form do i condone rape of any kind. there’s a large difference from the page and the real world. i try to put all tw’s in the tags and warnings, but if there was something i missed please tell me. thank you to my lovely bestie @mermaidxatxheart for beta-reading(i have no fucking clue what i’d do without your help). feel free to leave a comment or two and reblog, but don’t repost anywhere or i will hunt down your ass. thank you again and please please enjoy <3

main masterlist || mcu masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck Y/N as soon as he saw her.

It started with a faint mention, something Tony had thrown around along the lines of, “Parker’s bringing his girl down here tomorrow, don’t be an asshole”. He didn’t give a damn what Tony said or how he acted around Peter’s girl. Years of being thrown between gruesome mind-wiping and being half-dead, asleep in a freezer would do that to a man.

So the next day when Peter brought his girlfriend in, he was scratching his ass like a fucking ape and downing a beer with a messy bun at the nape of his neck, until he actually saw her. Neat hair, even neater laces with a sweet smile but a body that could kill. Didn’t matter that she was bundled under Parker’s hoodie and a pair of jeans- he could always admire a pretty dame, but Bucky could see that she was beyond that. It was as if God had intentionally made the one being, the one ethereal creature beautiful and angelic enough to be a sin away from him, so that he couldn’t touch her. Because she was young, and in her twenties, and that shouldn’t have even been the first two things that popped up in his mind because she was also Peter’s girlfriend.

But then she had the audacity to stick her hand out, a shy grin and twinkle in her eyes as she gave her name. It sounded so pretty rolling off of her tongue, and he wondered what it would sound like while he groaned it into her cunt.

Y/N.

So, yeah, maybe Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck her as soon as he met her, but it was pretty damn close after.

Steve Rogers was one of very few men who said they had the pleasure of banging nearly every woman on the north side of Manhattan. Bucky indulged in the fact that the man who had once been too shy to do so much as meet a gal’s gaze was now “a dollar whore”, but he was more than happy to keep that title if it meant he could continue to get off in the nearest woman’s mouth everyday.

Every time he walked down the streets of New York with just a simple ball cap and jeans, he could feel stares on his back from what seemed like miles away, girls on every street corner just waiting for him to take her into the nearest public bathroom and fuck them dirty. CEOs, baristas, girls fresh out of getting master’s degrees with stars in their eyes and big dreams, until he shattered them by making them gag on his cock and scream his name into bedsheets. Or tile floors. He didn’t care as long as they were screaming. The girls of this century were just too delectable to turn down. He didn’t discriminate. His dick had been in women of every height, stature, hair color, and he had quite the variety throwing themselves at him as well.

And then Tony ruined it all and sat him down with a simple explanation that the image of Captain America was being tainted with disturbing stories of girls being fucked in the ass and thrown on their knees in dirty bathroom stalls. The blond was beyond pissed when the billionaire told him to stop dicking around, but he couldn’t do anything else if he wanted to keep his title and job. In a new century, even if he’d had a few years to adjust, he was still absolutely oblivious when it came to anything outside of aliens and sex. There was nothing left for him outside of being an Avenger, so reluctantly he agreed to keep his number of conquests to a minimum, and most definitely inside of the tower rather than out on the street.

However, inside of the tower seemed to be no problem at all when Peter brought his girlfriend over, all smiles and straight A’s, and that’s when Steve realized that he’d yet to fuck a bright, little college student. He could see himself stripping her from the innocence in her eyes, loosening up her pussy with his thick cock against the wall in his room.

Surely Tony couldn’t reprimand him for spending a little time trying to bond with Peter’s new girl, right?

Sam Wilson was a simple man. He had a job, a well-paid one at that, somewhere to live, a girlfriend, or a woman to keep him company, that’s for sure- but for once in his life he was seeking out something other than missions, something that would keep him busy when he was feeling bored, something like-

Pleasure, and he knew that he’d finally found what he was looking for the moment Peter brought his girlfriend through the elevator doors on the fifty-sixth level of the Avengers tower. She’d shaken his hand so daintily and spoke so politely that if he were to see her without any backstory, he’d think she was another innocent, dim-witted college student, breaking her bank account every Saturday morning and naively believing that her relationship would last longer than a few months. But by the things Parker had told him, she was much more than that.

Was it shitty of Peter to tell his teammates, the people he worked with, how Y/N was in bed? By the majority’s vote, probably, and by Sam’s strict conduct of his own morals, definitely, but when Peter’s girl looked like that and he was so incredibly bored with his routine?

Well, fuck, Sam had never been happier that the Spider-kid had told everyone how his girl gave head.

Peter brought his girlfriend in daily after that, and every one of her visits, she grew less shy and more friendly, and the Falcon saw each of his friends gape at her growing comfortability with a wolfish demeanor. It started with the water incident with Steve in the kitchen, where he so clearly spilled water on her already thin, white camisole with intention. Sam couldn’t say he was upset though, after all Steve had offered him and the rest of the Avengers quite a show when he tried to clean up her shirt, taking his sweet, sweet time to fondle her tits as subtly as he could, his eyes staring at her pebbled nipples poking through the material. He could see Bucky hiding his boner under his cereal bowl on the couch that day.

Then of course, he’d been no better than America’s sweetheart himself when he greeted Y/N with a hug that in hindsight, was a little too enthusiastic. His large hands squeezed into the pockets of her back pocket, and if the college student found anything weird with it, she didn’t say so, but Sam graciously palmed the round globes of her ass in his hands, feeling the muscle clench under his fingers. Oh, how he’d never hugged someone that tight ever before in his life. Maybe he would’ve gotten a bit further than squeezing her ass had it not been for his own girlfriend standing behind him, ready to introduce herself to Y/N.

Bucky, well, Sam could admit that Bucky had the most guts out of all of them. Though the super-soldier was normally well-reserved and polite, the dark glint in his eyes the day he met Y/N let him in on the secret that he had a much dirtier mind than most thought. It had been movie night that time, and he barely even tried to cover up how much he wanted the girl, his hands resting all over her as they watched Inception. Hardly a movie to get so riled up over, yet Bucky’s hand still inched its way up her thigh, his rough fingers gently carressing the flesh until they started to lightly trace the apex of her thighs.

If she noticed anything then, she didn’t comment on it, doe-like eyes just marvelling at the screen in great intrigue. It was only when Peter’s arms wrapped around her a bit tighter did she scooch away from Bucky’s touch, with a small apology and shy grin.

That only made his dick harder.

On the other side of Bucky, his super-soldier counterpart tapped his knee gently, forcing their blue eyes to meet each other. No words had to be said between the two, three men when they looked over to Sam, because they all recognized that look they saw in each other's eyes; predatory, dark, nearly voracious in the way they all wanted to be balls deep inside of Y/N.

And they would get there. No matter how long it took, they knew that the ultimate prize of tearing their prey apart would be more than worth the wait.

“Hey, babe, I’m gonna be a little late. Ned and I got stuck back in the lab, so we’re gonna need to stay until eight or nine. Can you make it to the tower by yourself alright?”

Peter’s concerned voice made Y/N smile gently as she trudged along the rainy streets of New York. He always loved to worry about her, especially when it was dark and gloomy out, but she could handle herself pretty okay. By pretty okay, of course meant she could kick ass like no other twenty-something year-old, but she wasn’t one to brag. Y/N readjusted the Kate Spade purse on her shoulder with her right hand, attempting to keep her umbrella over her head with the other. “I’ll be fine, Pete, just go finish up and get back to me. I’m gonna be waiting in your room at the tower before you go off on that mission this weekend.”

A small sigh came through the speaker, “Okay, I’ll try to get back to you soon. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Pete.”

“Oh,” she could hear the shy but no less mischievous smile that was taking over his face, “I left you a little present on the bed, make sure you open it before I get back.”

Y/N’s face heated at the implication. “Peter Parker, you dirty little-” He ended the call with a laugh, and she huffed out a small chuckle at his childish antics.

The walk to the Avengers tower would have been nice, had it not been for the downfall of rain, making everything mushy, socks being absolutely soaked through her sneakers by the time she arrived. The receptionist at the front desk, Jenny, if Y/N remembered correctly, stared at her a little oddly, probably not expecting to see the young college girl in such a state of disorder, but it didn’t affect her at all. She confidently strutted up to the elevator, pressing in the floor number where all the rooms were located. Y/N scrolled through her Twitter feed on her phone while classic rock blared through the elevator with the constant shuffling of people moving in and out. Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later she was sprinting down the halls with soggy shoes and damp hair, her cold body screaming for warmth.

Peter’s room was the farthest down the hall, and the room was fairly empty. He rarely stayed at his room in the tower, preferring to stay with his Aunt May or keep Y/N company in Brooklyn. When she entered the room, she saw a plain white shirt and a pair of socks strewn upon the carpeted floor, but what really caught her eye was the red box wrapped in a pink bow on the bed. Deciding it would add more suspense if she opened it later, she quickly hopped in the shower, letting the hot water warm her freezing, rigid muscles under the spray.

Peter didn’t have all the products she’d usually use before she knew they were going to have sex, so she had to make do with the half-used bar of Irish Spring and his small travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner, promising the fresh, breezy smell of citrus and mint. It was a quick process; two squeezes of shampoo, shaving with the green soap as best as she could without cutting herself, one squeeze of conditioner. A fuzzy towel sat waiting for Y/N on the rack, with the Spiderman symbol as a prank gift from her to her lovely boyfriend, and without a second to let the heat leave her damp skin, she wrapped herself in it, quickly hopping out to the bedroom again.

The lingerie she set out on the bed was a deep set burgundy color, with lace decorating the delicate corset and the trim of the satin panties. The packaging really did not do it justice. Y/N grinned at the new set, one that she knew would happily be torn from her body later. A shiver ran through her as she let the cold air fall over her skin, carefully slipping the lingerie on. It was a damn shame, really; the set was quite nice, and she reminded herself to buy more of the nicely suiting color for their nights together.

Click.

Y/N’s heart thumped with anticipation as she heard the door open and she took a quick moment to ready herself. Hair in perfect style, legs stretched along the length of the bed to make herself look as seductive as possible, a small smirk thrown on her pouty lips.

But in the darkened room, it wasn’t Peter’s shadow that appeared. Three men, three tall, bulkier men’s shadows appeared at the foot of the bed, and horror washed over her as she realized who they were. “Goddamn, dolly, I’ve imagined what you would’ve looked like under those sweaters, but this is much sweeter than I expected.”

The sinister face of Bucky Barnes came into her view, just a sliver of moonlight lighting up his pale skin. His eyes raked over Y/N’s uncovered skin, and goosebumps appeared as she tried to cover herself up under his predatory gaze.

“W-what are you doing here?” She whispered worriedly. Sam and Steve flanked the bed on either side of her, plastered sickly sweet smiles on their faces, providing her with a false sense of security that made her heart scream in fear. Though she wasn't making any noise, her lungs felt like they were going to give out, her throat closing up like an allergic reaction.

Her head whipped every which way in robotic movement, her brain seeming to fail her as she scanned the room for an exit. Several moments of shortened breaths, cold air chilling her body, before she came out of her freezing shock to realization.

“Why are you here? Please, get out, just g-get out!”

A calloused hand pushed away Y/N’s left arm that covered her tits, and Steve groaned at the sight of her pebbled nipples. “God, baby, they’re as pretty as I thought they’d be. Been trying to feel them up all week, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

Saturday the week before at lunch when he’d spilled water over chest and tried to clean her up. Sam’s friendly hug that became a bit less friendly when his hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans. The movie night on Monday when Bucky’s hand caressed her thigh a little too close to her core. All of their touches began to make more sense, and her eyes filled with tears at the realization.

“Please,” she begged, tears blocking her vision, “I promise I won’t tell anyone, not even Pete, but please just go.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Steve asked. He grasped her chin roughly, his face close enough to hers so that she could feel his fiery breath on her lips. “We’re not leaving, sweetheart. You’re gonna let all three of us play with your pretty little body, and you’re gonna make the prettiest sounds for us, alright?”

Y/N shook her head violently, too afraid to make noise, but also bold enough to make one last attempt at freedom. The hand that held her chin quickly moved to slap her cheek, and she hated the way the sting made heat stir in her lower belly. She tried to shy away from their touch again, but Bucky’s face simply held the same smirk as he trailed his vibranium fingers up and down her leg.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, don’t act all shy now. Peter has been telling us how good you’ve been to him and don’t think he hasn’t told us about your little childhood crush on little ol’ me. Been wanting to fuck you ever since.” Bucky’s hand quickly left her body, instead moving to palm over the bulge in his pants. “Fuck, sweetheart, got me real hard just thinking ‘bout your pussy swallowing my cock. Bet you’re gonna be a sweet, obedient girl for me, right?”

Fire started to course through Y/N’s veins, and with all the power she tried to dampen it down with, it seemed to push through her body that much more dangerously. She despised the fact that she could feel herself growing wet for the three older men, but God, she had never felt the need to be filled up as badly as she did in that moment.

“You’re a bit of a slut, don’t you think?” Sam mocked. He kneeled on her right, his eyes fixated on her panty-clad pussy, a wet patch already forming on the soft satin. It really didn’t help that three of her teen celebrity crushes were eyeing her nearly naked body like a piece of meat. “I mean, look at you, already growing wet and needy for three cocks. Is that what you want, honey? Parker not treating you good enough?”

She hesitated. Goosebumps rose across her skin at the sinister tone of his voice, like he already knew it was true. And it was true and she hated that Sam was right, but as amazing as Peter was a boyfriend, it was clear from the vibrator hiding in his apartment’s bathroom that he was not amazing in the sheets. Every time, she held hope that it would be better, that she would finally get to stop faking an orgasm before he rolled out of the bed with a filled up condom, but she knew deep down inside of her that it wasn’t happening anytime soon. Y/N forced herself to nod weakly at Sam’s questions, and Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you poor dolly, we’re gonna have so much fun with you. Treat you better than that little boy ever could.”

All it took was a whimper, a nearly audible, deadly silent whimper that managed to squeak its way past Y/N’s throat, and the three men took it as permission to ravage her body however they pleased.

Steve made quick work of his pants as Sam lifted her chin to kiss him, his tongue hot and heavy against her mouth, coaxing her lips open. The sound of belt buckles hitting the floor shamefully turned on Y/N even more. Panic coursed through her senses, her mind wanting to scream for them to stop, but her body knew her too well as she felt a wave of slick run down her thighs. Cold metal digits slipped under the waistband of her panties, moving to her wet folds, and she whimpered into Sam’s mouth at the touch.

“You look so nice, baby, so pretty all laid out for us like this.” Bucky’s hands pulled down her panties as Steve pinched her peaked nipple through the lace, laying lavish, open-mouthed kisses down her torso. The cool air hit her pussy when Bucky’s hands pulled her legs wide open, fully exposed to the three men ready to use her against her will. “Knew you’d be so wet for us, sweetheart, just look at you. Dripping all for your daddies,” Steve murmured against her skin.

Hot breath fanned over her cunt before they rolled her over on her stomach, someone’s hands forcing her up onto her knees with her face smashed into the cotton pillows. She could feel two rough human hands pulling her ass cheeks apart, spreading her ever wider for their view. “Would you look at that, boys, look how fucking hot she is for us.”

Sam’s thick finger ran through her folds, the calloused pad of his finger just teasing her clit before landing a harsh smack to the inside of her thigh. Her moan was muffled through the mattress and she prayed they wouldn’t hear how being treated like whore made her wet like nothing else.

Hot slick dripped down her thighs, a pool of it staining the pristine sheets by each knee. It was quite a sight, Steve, kneeled by the bed as his face hovered next to her ear, whispering filthy things into her ear as Bucky stroked his hard, leaking cock right next to him. Sam’s lips were making their way up the inside of her right thigh, cracked skin gliding across her sticky flesh. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you smell so good. Bet you taste even better, don’t you, little girl?”

His tongue reached the apex of her thighs, finally licking a stipe up her center with no warning. Y/N sobbed into the comforter below her, mascara stained tears marking up her face. Two fingers edged their way between the bed and her face, forcing her head upwards and arching her back. Steve’s face was caught in a dirty smirk above hers, lip pulled taut between his teeth, until he saw the tears trailing down her face. “Oh, sweetheart, you look so desperate like this.” His fingers traced her smeared lip gloss around her lips, before opening her lips harshly. “Open up, you dumb baby.”

Y/N forced her jaw open wider, just enough to watch a string of Steve’s saliva drip into her mouth. The thick spit pooled on her tongue and she tried hard not to grimace in front of him, in hopes that he wouldn’t make her-

“Swallow it, sweetheart.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes, how her lower lip trembled at his words, but he just laughed at her. “Now.”

The warm saliva slid down her tongue and more black tears ran down her face as she obliged his orders, finally gulping it and cringing at the taste. Steve loved the way her face screwed up in displeasure, how she still had the audacity to pretend she hated what they were doing though she was moaning and whimpering with Sam’s tongue attacking her entrance.

“What do you want, sweetheart? We might give it to you as long as you use your words.” Bucky taunted lightly.

Y/N stared up at the brunette, staring menacingly down at her with his cock in hand. “Please,” she whimpered.

The three found it woeful, the way she could barely get a full sentence out as Sam went to town with his skilled tongue, but even with that onslaught, a simple please wasn’t enough for them.

“Please what, honey,” Sam moaned from between her legs, “you gotta use your big words or we’ll never know what you want from us.”

Steve and Bucky nodded in fake-agreement even though they all knew exactly what she wanted and where.

“I don’t-” her widened eyes glanced into Steve’s, blown-out and teary. “I don’t want anything, not from you.” She lied through her teeth harshly.

Sam removed his head from between her thighs and Y/N immediately whined at the loss of contact almost hilariously. “You don’t want anything, little girl?”

The air felt static, every hair on her neck rising in the pressured silence. The angel and the devil clawed at her heart, each trying to show her what was right. And she wanted to sin, God knew that she would love nothing more than to let that little greedy part of her take over, but she’d already cheated on Peter and that damn good part of her conscience stole the wheels of her brain.

Slowly and shamefully, she shook her head, though the downright dirty monster inside of her wanted the men to ignore her words and keep assaulting her body.

“That’s a shame, baby, I thought we were having fun.” Sam sighed. He met Bucky’s gaze on the side, and though they seemed to be in resignation with her wishes, their eyes twinkled devilishly. He positioned his body over Y/N’s kneeled over form, his bare chest glued to her sweating back as his hands ran up the sides of her ribcage and to her front, just barely grazing over her sensitive nipples. “You mean, you don’t want me to touch you here?”

He pinched the darkened buds and she had to use every ounce of self-restraint to not collapse at the sensation. His calloused hands moved back even further, tracing down to the stretch of skin just above her mound, swiping a finger across the skin delicately. “How about here? Or even,” he brought three fingers around her body, over her ass, and into her glistening cunt again, just rubbing along her entrance, not daring to go further in. Y/N couldn’t hold in her reaction to his prodding anymore, his teasing chipping away all of her dignity and pride in a few simple touches.

“Yes, please, please, use your fingers,” she blurted against her will. Where shame should have washed over her, there was only lust, raging red and coursing through her body so forcefully that she felt braindead. “Put your fingers in me, daddy, please.”

The pet name rolled off of her tongue so easily and she was barely ashamed of how it made her feel. The name especially shocked the three men, who smiled even wider with their cocks harder than before at the little slip up. “That was all you had to say, dolly, gonna have your daddies make you feel real good,” Bucky laughed.

Sam finally plunged his thick fingers knuckle-deep into her cunt as Steve’s mouth captured hers, effectively swallowing her scream with ferocity. The long digits scissored and swirled inside of her, pressing against new unexplored areas that she’d never even gotten to with her own fingers. White dots danced along the front line of her vision as teeth clashed against hers and though it’d been mere minutes she already knew she was close and the men did as well.

“I can feel you clamping around my fingers, honey,” Sam taunted. His lips were moving sinfully around her ass, planting sloppy kisses and drooling all over her skin while he fingered her deep. “Are you gonna come soon, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, I’m so- fuck,” Y/N panted into Steve’s mouth, “m’ so c-close.” The blond bit her tongue hard enough for her to taste blood and she yelped as she heard Sam and Bucky laugh.

“Watch your language, dolly,” Bucky sneered from the side of the bed. His hand was rapidly moving around his cock, corkscrew motions edging him towards the brink of pleasure.

“Little girls like you don’t get to use big swear words,” Sam’s face was still buried between her legs, his soaked fingers pulling out of her cunt only to rub at her little pearl of nerves in circles. His tongue still lapped at her dripping entrance and he could feel her tight hole start to pulse as her breathing picked up. “Oh, baby, you’re getting close, aren’t you?”

Y/N was hesitant to answer at first, the sweat on her body seeming to cool immediately in fear of what would happen if she messed up. But after five seconds Steve stopped kissing her, gripping her chin and staring into her eyes deeply. He looked as debauched as she felt, with his rosy lips swollen with spit and cheeks tinged with pink. “Are you gonna answer daddy, sweetheart?”

That knocked her into shape real fast.

“Yes, daddy, I’m so close. P-please let me come,” she whimpered. The whine in her voice pleased the two men, and Steve went back to exploring her mouth before she felt something poking against her asshole.

“Gonna let daddy put his cock in you, little girl?” Sam asked gently. His words had panic coursing through her system, a chilling realization like water being poured on her head and she began to wiggle around, trying to free Sam’s hand from her hip. Her arms weakly pushed at Steve’s chest, trying to push him as far away as he could, but the men only laughed at her flailing limbs. Y/N wanted to scream no to them, and despite her contrasting love-hate relationship with Sam’s fingers inside her cunt she knew it was time to go. It was laughable how much she would continue to say that to herself for the rest of the night.

But Sam managed to sense her panic, knowing exactly what the issue was before harshly spanking her and effectively stopping her struggle. “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t come inside of you. I’m not risking knocking up a whore with my kids, I’ve got more dignity than that.”

He led the leaking tip of his dick down her crack, rubbing it along her slick entrance before pushing in with a groan. “Oh my fucking God, that is so hot.” Bucky admonished from the side. “Gotta get in on that soon.”

Steve chuckled against Y/N’s lips, pulling away with a strand of saliva connecting them. He adjusted himself up so his dick was centimeters from her face, a knee propped up on the bed for balance. “Gotta wait your turn, Buck, we all want a piece of her.” He noticed the way Y/N’s eyes were transfixed on his cock, the red mushroom head smeared with precome along the slit, nearly purplish veins standing out prominently on his shaft. Yeah, he couldn’t even deny that he was big because he already knew how many girls had dropped down on their knees for him. “Go ahead, sweetheart, open up those pretty lips for me.”

Almost too excitedly, she dropped her jaw, allowing him to slide his cock into the silky warmth of her mouth. As his hips started to thrust into her mouth, Sam’s started to do the same into her cunt. Both men moaned in tandem with their movements as Y/N’s worries faded away to the back of her mind as they stuffed her to the brim.

“You can come now, baby,” Sam nearly ordered, “go and cream on daddy’s cock- fuck, I know you’ve been waiting.”

It was a harsh bump of his head against her G-spot that sent her over the edge, walls clamping down with ferocity and milking him for all she was worth. Y/N reeled in the sunlight infested warmth that coursed through her body as she finally let go, whining around Steve’s dick as he continued to abuse her throat with long, deep thrusts.

Bucky was still holding his orgasm off, fondling with his tight, heavy sac while his dick remained a painfully hard mess, glistening with precome. “I’m so glad I got to see you come, dolly, look so fucking pretty when you do.”

She couldn’t deny the little skip of her heart at the praise, just a few simple words that made her feel like a good little girl. But no, God-fucking no, she wasn’t supposed to let them make her feel this way. Guilt washed away that warmth in her chest just as quickly, knowing that her boyfriend was just waiting to come back to see her, finishing up his studies so that they could live their lives out together after college while she was getting her pussy and mouth absolutely wrecked by his co-workers.

As soon as Y/N got her brain thinking straight again, Sam started moving inside of her again and she garbled out a strangled cry. “If you thought we were done here, baby,” Sam laughed, “you’ve got a lot left ahead of you.”

“We’re not leaving until all of us have come, brat.” Steve’s palm gripped the back of her skull roughly, pushing her head so far down on his dick that her nose was squished against his abdomen. “Greedy little bitch.”

Both men started to thrust into her again, and just like that she was back to being absolutely lost in desire and lust like the bitch in heat she was until there was a sudden shift in the air. So much that the sweat on her body began to cool her skin, Sam’s hands still gripping her hips so tightly she knew they’d leave marks that she would have to hide when she wore her favorite low-cut shorts.

Bucky’s eyes seemed to drift from her tits moving with each movement of her hips, checking behind the door as if there were something lurking there, but she was too afraid to see for herself. If she stopped she would get spanked, and they’d probably prolong her second orgasm even further, and her pussy couldn’t handle any more subtle teasing.

“Hey there, Parker, why don’t come on out here?”

But that, that was what made the hairs on Y/N’s neck rose, dread filling her to the fullest as she realized the implications of Sam’s words.

Peter had seen everything. Peter, her boyfriend, had seen three of his co-workers, three men who she barely knew, fuck her deep into his mattress. Peter, her boyfriend, had watched her get fucked into his mattress, without trying to stop them whatsoever.

She couldn’t tell if it was the guilt of cheating on her boyfriend or the freezing realization that he hadn’t done anything to stop the three men that hurt more.

Yet Peter still walked from behind the door, dressed in a NYU hoodie and a pair of khakis slung low on his hips, just drawing attention to the sizable bulge that stretched out his zipper. His umber eyes, normally full of so much joy and love, were possessed by the same lust and darkness as the three men, as much as he tried to hide it behind a shyer facade.

His eyes were trained on the tightness of how Y/N’s pussy was gripping Sam, her lips glossed over with come and spit wrapped around Steve’s dick. The girl stopped in her movements, her eyes no longer full of tears for just being gagged, but as soon as her mouth came to a halt around the base of his cock, the blond slapped her across the face. A sharp crack echoed around the room and though she couldn’t see him, she heard Bucky’s feral growl of pleasure at the whorish treatment she was receiving.

“Didn’t say you could fucking stop, sweetheart, keep working on daddy’s cock.” No more words needed to be said as Steve gripped her hair once more, forcing himself farther back into her throat to the point where she couldn’t breathe. Sam’s thrusts were quickening, closer and closer to release as the sounds of the girl struggling to breath made his balls tighten.

“Fucking shit, baby, you feel yourself squeezing my dick? I bet you like teasing daddy like that, don’t you?” One of his hands were brought down on her ass in a quick smack that resonated with Bucky, who was staving off his orgasm for something much sweeter than his hand. She was moaning raucously around the dick stuffed in her mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up every nerve in Steve’s body as he came with the tip of his dick nearly being swallowed by Y/N’s throat. There was barely any time for her to fully down the thick come in her mouth before Sam was threatening to orgasm. “I’m gonna come so soon but you better fucking not, little girl, you hear me? Gotta let your daddy come before you, you ungrateful little bitch- oh.”

It was a really fucking close call, Sam’s dick pulling out of her with one quick movement before spilling pearly ropes of come onto Y/N’s spine. A high whine escaped her mouth, clit throbbing as she was so, so close to coming, and she was too far into her crazed pleasure to realize that she was letting three older men, men who fought to defend the universe from evil, use her as an over-glorified fleshlight.

She couldn’t really blame them for calling her a cockdrunk whore.

Bucky sauntered over to the bed, eyes trained on the pool of come centered around the base of her spine before flipping her over onto her back with his large hands and shoving three vibranium fingers back into her hole. She gasped and held onto his forearm as he continued to fingerfuck her to her second orgasm, eyes screwed shut in a delirious haze of contentment for being filled with at least something again.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, please-” Steve slapped her along the face, correcting her words immediately. “Daddy, daddy, please let me come.”

Bucky chuckled, tweaking one of her nipples with his flesh hand as he hovered over her face. “I don’t know, dolly, you’ve been a little naughty, callin’ me the wrong name, not listening to Stevie’s orders- don’t think you deserve to get what you want.”

A muffled whimper escaped her swollen lips, and he sighed in surrender. “Okay, dollface, go ahead and come on my fingers. Let me see how you wet ‘em up real good.”

Y/N’s hips bucked into his metal digits with finality, come leaking out of her cunt and soaking the sheets below her. Her sweat-glazed skin shone even against the darkening sky, and all Bucky could do was chuckle at how her chest rose quickly as she tried to catch her breath. He thought about teasing her clit again, just circling around the little bud of nerves to get a rise out of her, but he decided against it. Sam probably had better plans for her anyway.

On the other hand, Y/N’s orgasm was starting to wear off as she noticed the hardened stare from the edge of the room. Her boyfriend.

“Peter, I…” Y/N made eye contact with him, suddenly noticing how mousy he looked in his own bedroom.

“I nearly forgot you were here, Parker,” Sam smirked darkly. “Why don’t you come over here and fuck your little whore. I’m feeling a little generous today.”

Steve and Bucky nodded with the same infuriating smugness as Sam. The brunette boy opened his mouth to object to the degrading statement, but when he met his girlfriend’s eyes nothing needed to be said. There was no escaping this. Nothing he said mattered to the three older men, because really they had already gotten everything they wanted right in front of their disgusting, perverted eyes.

He unbuckled his belt, letting the weight of it drop his khakis to the floor. Maybe if he’d known he would be forced into join a fivesome later that night he’d have picked any other boxers but the Ducktales one, but no one seemed to say a word about them, rather focusing on what they were failing to conceal.

Peter’s cock had always been admirable to Y/N by its length and God, definitely its thickness. Curved upwards towards his abdomen with a vein running along the left side up to the bulbous head, it was definitely more than average. It was really just a shame he didn’t know how to use it well enough.

His shirt was pulled over his head just as quickly, and if Y/N knew any better she would say that he was excited to get to fuck her in front of the three men. He placed himself in between Y/N’s parted legs, standing in the same position as he had so many times before.

But when Y/N cried out in pain and pleasure as he slid into her, Peter knew that this time, it was different. This time three men, men that he used to trust with his life, stood on either side of him and his girlfriend and jerked their hands up and down their cocks as they watched her get fucked relentlessly. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t romantic, but he couldn’t really think when his thick cock was stuffed inside of her stimulated pussy, juices and come leaking out of her abused sex.

“Go faster, Parker,” Steve instructed, his face contorted in pure pleasure. The pace of Peter’s thrusts sped up, and he threw Y/N’s ankles over his shoulders, hitting deeper inside of her, with the sound of her sobs only turning them all on more. “Oh, right there, shit, shit, shit-”

Steve came first, a low groan escaping his lips as streams of come landed on her tits, still bouncing with every movement of Peter’s hips.

“Open up,” Sam gritted through his teeth, and Y/N obediently opened her mouth to let his bitter come coat the inside of her throat, some of it landing on her face and neck. The string of curses he let out made Peter thrust even faster into her, and he hated, absolutely despised the way it turned him on to see the three men use his girlfriend to their pleasure. But soon enough a hand pushed against his chest away from Y/N and he reluctantly pulled out.

“Move aside, kid,” Bucky instructed, “Wanna come inside of her.”

As he lined his gigantic cock up with her entrance, her eyes widened with fear. “No, please, I didn’t take my pills, I can’t- I won’t, please not inside-”

“Shut the fuck up, you slut.” Bucky’s fingers came to slap her clit harshly, and she cried out in pain. “You’re gonna be quiet and let me come wherever I damn want, right?”

He punctuated his last word as he thrust inside her, filling her up to the hilt with his girth. She was too drunk on the feeling of her cunt being filled up to argue again. It was painful, extremely so, even though two different cocks had been inside her overstimulated pussy already and Bucky stretched her out wide, his cock thicker with veins to hit every pleasure point. With her legs tossed around his tapered torso, he slid out until his very tip was left in her, then slammed back in with a small moan. The head of his cock relentlessly pounded into her cervix in a nearly soundless tempo and all Y/N could hear were her own gasps of pleasure, jaw-dropping moans that made drool slide back down her throat in her laid down position.

She turned her head to the side, and though her vision was bleary through the tears, she could see Sam and Steve watching Bucky fuck her while Peter, her boyfriend, her sweet, sweet boyfriend, was caught up fucking his hand to the sound of Bucky’s balls slapping against her ass.

“Fuck, ‘m not gonna last much longer, dollface.” Bucky gasped. “You gonna come soon? You’re gonna come for daddy one more time. I think you’ve got a third one in you, you little fucking slut.”

“Shit, shit, daddy, please ‘m almost there,” Y/N wailed absentmindedly. A thumb came down to circle her clit quickly and she felt the coil in her stomach grow tighter and tighter, until she finally let out a high whine, finding her release as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside of her, ready to come just as easily as her. Her pussy clenched around his cock as she rode out her orgasm, fingers grasping at the sheets in order to find some sort of grounding. His come painted her walls white, and Bucky could’ve sworn there was no better feeling than feeling his blood warm in every vein as he finally let go. With stunted groans, his hips slowed its rhythm, lost in watching how his cock disappear into Y/N’s pussy, her slick juices coating his dick each time he pulled out.

“Ah, fuck, dolly, you did so good for me. Pussy tight as a fuckin’ vice.” Bucky hugged her limp body close to his sweaty chest, letting his dick soften inside of her for a good few moments before pulling out. He tossed Y/N back onto the bed below him, barely even caring to clean the come dripping down her ribcage and out of her cunt before grabbing his boxers from the cabinet next to the bed.

Steve was already buttoning his jeans up, checking the notifications on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. The blond seemed to have better things to do so soon after, rushing his way to the door before pausing where Y/N laid to watch come drip out of her pussy. One more time he pushed Bucky’s come inside of her abused entrance, watching as it oozed out from behind his digits. “Look at you, fucking full of of his come. Such a goddamn whore,” he muttered under his breath.

Those were the last words he said to her before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leading him out of the opened door.

Maybe Sam was a bit more kind, or affectionate at least. He was already dressed but visibly hard again beneath the thick denim of his pants, and he made sure Y/N knew it, taking her left hand and placing it over his dick. “You still got that effect on me, honey, even when you’re all fucked out like this.” He dragged his fingers through the thick ribbons of come that coated her chest, bringing them up to her mouth so she could taste. Even though she was more than exhausted, she wrapped her tongue around the two fingers that were pushed past her swollen lips, sucking them clean with a tired vengeance. Satisfied with her work, he kissed her chin one more time before leaving without so much as another word, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Click.

It ended exactly the way it started, the lock jostling into the doorknob just as easily as the high of Y/N’s final orgasm slipped away.

Stifling silence suffocated the room around them. Peter refused to meet her eyes, just as much as hers did his. She laid motionless on the bed with him standing at the foot, his dick soft and if she narrowed her bleary eyes just a bit, she could see how his knees were shaking. Neither of them were able to say anything, losing the ability to converse as soon as the three men left the room.

“Peter,” her voice was throaty after the rough fucking she took, “C-can you please get me a drink?”

The brown-haired boy looked down to meet her face, and she could finally see the reason that he had hid it from her. His eyes were red and bloodshot, snot running from his nose with tears running down his cheeks. She’d been so caught up in the after haze of the sex that she didn’t even notice how his bare chest was heaving so deeply, nearing hyperventalation.

But still, he grabbed his boxers, pulling them over his weakened legs clumsily. “Y-yeah, what kind do you want, Mr. Stark has a ton-”

“I don’t care.” She cut him off firmly, a sharp tone in her voice as she rolled over on her side. Y/N tucked her knees to her chin, fingers running over the side of her neck which was marked with bruises and scratches. “I don’t fucking care.”

Without another word Peter slipped out of the room quietly, knowing better than to try to talk to her about what they had been forced to participate in. It wasn’t as if there was much to say anyways.

Rain pattered against the window. It was only six o’clock in the evening. Cars honked and beeped and Natasha’s Igor Stavinsky record played for its fiftieth round of the day, and to anyone else in the tower it was a normal night. Normal, just like the ones spent sitting on the couch with Bucky’s hand creeping up her leg or Sam’s hands groping her ass, but this time they’d made a move.

The silence was far too much to handle, the unspoken truth of what she’d done with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Peter finally hitting her, knocking the air out of her lungs as she suddenly struggled to breathe. Gripping her face, clawing at it like a goddamn wolf, Y/N began to cry. Silently at first, gradually growing into heartbroken sobs, she let her trodden pride carry her voice wherever it wanted to go.

The men’s whispered words haunted her mere moments after they’d left the room, but most audibly she could hear a faint husk of a voice, Sam’s low moan in her ear looming in the dreadful silence of the room:

Thanks for sharing with us, baby.

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sunsents · 3 years

Text

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

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

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

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

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

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

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

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

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

Five Years Later, 2003

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

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

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Auntie ____!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

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

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

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

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

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

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

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

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

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

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

“Wha-“

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

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

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

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

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

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

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

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

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

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

————————

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

Jambo’s no different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absolute blasphemy.

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

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

Of course your logic sucks.

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

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

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

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

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

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, down girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.” he says softly.

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

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

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

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

“Eva!”

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

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

Fred winces. “Actually-”

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

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

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

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

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

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

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like a you problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.

Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.

“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”

Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”

The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.

For a moment, you forget where you’re going.

Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.

Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.

Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.

You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.

You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.

Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.

You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.

“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.

“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.

“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”

You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”

George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”

When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.

The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.

Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support

“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.

Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.

You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.

“____!”

Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”

Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”

“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”

You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.

“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”

Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.” he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #hp smut #fluff #angst #hp angst #reader insert #george weasley #ginny weasley #hermione granger #harry potter

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