#happy holidays and happy new year to anyone who sent me something as always I love you all and I appreciate all the support

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Young American - Part 20**

GUYS I LOVE THIS PART! I'm really happy with it and I hope you guys like it too!

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: Detailed description of medical procedure, mentions of blood, birthing, slight pain kink, breeding kink, breeding, daddy/babygirl dynamic, p in v, unprotected sex

WC: 9K

… JUNE …

When Harry and Y/N announced to their co-workers that they were engaged everyone was absolutely overjoyed for them. Yes, things had moved quite fast, but when you’re with the right person getting to the point that you both want is far greater than the worries and fears. They hadn’t shared with anyone their intent to move to England yet, but they were hoping to have relocated by January of the next year. Auree had organized a little engagement party for them, it was more like a dinner actually, but it had been so nice so far. Celebrating with friends was always nice.

“So when are you guys getting married?” Rosa asked with an eager smile.

“Ummm, maybe next year in the spring?” Y/N looked to Harry who nodded in confirmation.

“Oh! You’re moving it along quickly.” Rosa said and they both nodded.

“Yeah…” Harry said with a smile, “We haven’t put a date on it just yet, it really depends on how quickly we finish settling down in London, but we’re aiming for March or April of next year.” he said and then his eyes widened when he saw Rosa’s smile falter a bit at the information he had just shared unintentionally.

“You guys are leaving?” She asked and that had caused everyone else’s conversations to halt as their attention turned to Harry and Y/N.

“Ummm…yeah, that’s the plan.” Y/N responded before biting down on her bottom lip nervously.

“Why? What’s the rush?” G asked with a small frown and Harry glanced to her and she smiled softly at him before he responded.

“Well, given the situation with Y/N’s family, we ummm, we want to have as much family support as possible for when we start trying for a baby. We’re kind of eager to get started.” He explained and everyone’s expressions of concern melted into pouts of endearment.

“Oh my god!” Vy finally said and Y/N shrugged with a happy smile.

“Well we’re gonna miss you, but we’re extremely happy for you guys.” G said and Auree and Rosa nodded along in agreement.

“Well, to Harry and Y/N!” Rosa said and everyone raised their glasses to them in a toast.

… SEPTEMBER ….

“Are you sure about this?” Harry whispered to Y/N as they sat in the waiting area and she nodded with an encouraging smile.

“I’m so sure.” She responded with a smile and he nodded.They were about to meet up with Dr. Ramirez to do an ultrasound of Y/N’s reproductive system, just to check in on everything to see how everything was. “Also, it makes me nervous to do this stuff alone so I’m glad you could come.”

“Well of course I’d come!” He replied and she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

They both felt like time was moving too quickly. After really solidifying their plans they talked to Eddie about the plan to move to England and he was really understanding and assured them both that he’d try and find a way to make something work. Both Harry and Y/N were completely booked out at the LA shop until the holidays though - they were finishing up as many clients as they could and well, they were busy all the damn time. In their free time they were preparing for their move to England, things were getting sent over a bit at a time and were being kept at Anne and Hillary’s. Since this would be their last Christmas in California they decided that they needed to spend the holidays here. Anne and Hillary were actually joining them in a few weeks for Thanksgiving and through the New Year and they would help take some things back to England when they headed off.

Harry and Y/N had also talked to Julie about their plans and what started out as a joke about Julie moving across the world with them soon became a very serious thing and she had gotten in touch with immigration late in the spring. Apart from her friends and her house, Julie didn’t have much left in LA. Her only family around was Y/N and with her gone she’d feel so alone, so she did some thinking and decided that she too would make the move out to England.

“Y/N Y/L/N!” The nurse called out from the clinic entrance and she stood up beside Harry before they made their way in. It was a bit nerve-racking when they had her lay down and they put the gel and all that shit on her. Dr. Ramirez was talking to her and Harry and she was responding to her questions, but she had no idea what she was even saying. She was so in her head about all of this, she hoped that everything was good…it had to be. 

“Alright, let’s see….that’s your uterus, looking good. I don’t see any abnormalities or  causes for concern.” She shared as she pointed to the splotch on the screen. Both Harry and Y/N wondered how doctors could even tell what the hell was being projected from the ultrasound, it looked like nothing but grainy footage to their untrained eyes. “OK, here’s your right ovary.” She said and well Y/N could faintly see the structure of it as the imaging on the screen zoomed in, “These black spots are the follicles.” She said pointing to one of them and both Y/N and Harry nodded in awe, “So here you’ve got…” she paused as she counted them quietly, “I see 10 here, which is really good and normal for your age. They look to be a good size also which means the egg there is maturing well and that increases your chances of conception by just a bit more.” She explained and both Harry and Y/N nodded. “Now let’s take a look at the left side…” Dr. Ramirez said as she moved the camera over to the other side, “OK, left ovary I see…9, all of them look good as well.” She said to them with a smile. “I’d say you’ve got excellent chances of getting pregnant quickly once your implant is out.” Dr. Ramirez shared with her and Harry. Y/N felt Harry squeeze her hand at this news and she smiled up at him.

“That’s great news.” Y/N responded cheerfully.

“And if she wants the implant out, how long is that procedure?” Harry asked.

“It’s a very quick out-patient procedure. Shouldn’t take more then 10 minutes total to position it and get it out.” She shared and Harry nodded.

“So baby, what do you wanna do?” He asked her and she smiled at him.

“I think we can make an appointment to get it out.” She said to him and his smiled widened even more.

“You sure?” He asked again and she nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve never been more sure about anything.” She smiled at him and then her doctor. It was nice that he kept checking in to ensure that he wasn’t pushing her for more than she was ready for because Harry was eager to just get started. And while he knew Y/N wanted all of this with him too he wasn’t sure just how eager she was for this as well. “I mean, I think I should at least get on the pill while we settle in and stuff,” she said to Harry and he nodded.

“Yeah, don’t want any surprises.” He assured her with a chuckle.

“Perfect.” Dr. Ramirez said, “Well, I can fit you in for that in about two weeks?” She asked Y/N and she nodded.

“Yeah, that’s perfect.” She agreed and Dr. Ramirez’s nurse wrote that down, “Preferably on a Monday though, its the slowest tattooing day.” She explained and she and her nurse chuckled in agreement.

“It’s gonna be sad that you’re going but I’m really happy for you two, you seem like a wonderful couple.” Dr. Ramirez assured.

“Thank you, doctor.” Y/N smiled. Soon enough she was bidding them farewell and Y/N was left to get fully dressed again. Harry felt even more excited than he did before, they were both excited about starting a family together. And of course they could do all of this once they were in England but it was important to Harry that Y/N take care of this with a medical team she knew well and trusted and Dr. Ramirez was the doctor she’d been seeing since she had moved in with Julie. 

Two weeks later they had returned during their lunch hour to get the implant out of Y/N’s arm. She knew it was a pretty easy procedure, but she was a bit nervous about it because they’d still be cutting into her arm and she tended to be a bit squeamish about all that. 

“Baby, it’ll be fine.” Harry comforted her from his spot beside her.

“I know, I know…I just can’t see the blood.” She explained through a nervous exhale and he looked at her with confusion.

“But…you’re a girl.”

“So?”

“Don’t you deal with blood regularly?” He asked you through a chuckle.

“Yeah, but that’s different. Like the consistency is even different! This is like…really thick and like…coming out of an open wound. Even when we tattoo it’s not like this.” She explained as she swallowed thickly. Just thinking about it made her start to feel clammy and for her stomach to turn unpleasantly. She’d learned to toughen up a bit with helping Julie out, but that was mostly throw up or phlegm, not blood. 

“Right. Well just, squeeze my hand if you start to get dizzy.” He smiled and she nodded. When Y/N got this put in she’d asked Dr. Ramirez if she could wear her headphones and close her eyes, she had been kind enough to allow it. She felt better about it with Harry here and he apparently had no issues with the blood and gore, which was great because she knew that when they’d have a baby they’d probably have to see it all and having a partner who could deal with the things she didn’t have the stomach for was always a win.

“Hello you two!” Dr. Ramirez greeted them as she came into the room.

“Hi doctor.”, “Hello, Doctor!” Y/N and Harry chimed in together.

“I know you struggle with this bit so I’ll be as fast as I can.” She assured Y/N who nodded. The nurse had been in earlier to set up the tools she needed to get this done. Dr. Ramirez washed her hands well before she got some gloves on. Y/N was breathing deep and looking into Harry’s eyes to help keep her nerves at bay.

“It’s alright, baby. Just keep looking right at me.” Harry assured her with an encouraging smile and Y/N nodded.

“Alright, let’s get the little bugger up front.” Dr. Ramirez said and then felt around for the implant in her left arm. Once she located it, it took a few attempts to get it up to an easily accessible part of her arm. “Perfect, gonna sanitize the area next.” Dr. Ramirez shared and Y/N already looked away and squeezed her eyes closed preemptively. Harry had an excellent view of the area that the doctor was cleaning off. Once she had put the swab with the disinfectant mixture down, she turned her attention to the needle inside of the sterile baggy. She carefully opened it up before dipping it into the anesthetic, “And just a little prick coming up.” She warned and Y/N exhaled as the needle sunk in and the anesthetic was delivered, “You made it.” She encouraged, “It’ll be just a few moments for it to kick in.” She informed and Y/N nodded. There was a knock at the door, “Come in!” Dr. Ramirez said and the nurse walked in with a smile. “Just in time!” She said and the woman proceeded to wash her hands before also getting some gloves on. “How’s that?” Dr. Ramirez asked as she poked hard at the spot she had numbed on Y/N’s arm.

“How’s what?” She asked without looking away from Harry and he chuckled as he looked to the doctor.

“Perfect.” She chuckled, “Alright, scalpel please.” She requested and the nurse opened up the sterile packaging and handed it over, “Thank you.”. Harry watched with wide eyes as Dr. Ramirez sunk the blade into Y/N’s arm quite hard and deep, it surprised him actually. And then she pulled away once the incision was made and instantly her blood started coming up to the surface and his mouth went dry. It was so dark and thick and well, Y/N was right it was a lot. At least a lot more than he expected there to be. Then, Dr. Ramirez pressed down against the incision and he saw the little bit of the implant protrude from it and that’s when he started to see spots as his body suddenly ran cold. He let go of Y/N’s hand as he started backing up to the wall behind him and Y/N was looking at him with concern. He could see her mouth moving as his back collided with the wall and he slowly sank down it as his legs started to weaken and he blinked slowly a few times before everything went black.

“Oh my god! Doctor!” Y/N gasped and turned towards Dr. Ramirez who was just as shocked but then Y/N saw the blood seeping through the gauze that Dr. Ramirez had now pressed to her open wound and she started to see spots and her ears rang for a few seconds before everything went black for her as well.

When Y/N regained consciousness she blinked a couple of times at the bright lights in above her. She then recalled what had happened and looked around the room for Harry. She relaxed when she saw him still passed out on a cot off to the side. Y/N shook her head as she smiled to herself in complete disbelief. She started to sit up and just then the nurse was coming into the room.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” She said and Y/N nodded.

“Yeah, sorry about this. What a mess…” she chuckled and shook her head in embarrassment and the woman smiled.

“It’s alright, it happens!” She assured, “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, just fine.” She assured.

“Alright, let’s help you down and I’ll bring some cool water for you and your boyfriend.” She said and Y/N thanked her as the woman helped her down to the floor.

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll be back in a second.” She assured and then hurried out. Y/N headed over to the cot where Harry was breathing slowly and she pushed his leg a bit to sit beside him.

“Baby.” She called to him as she ran her fingers through the front of his hair. He huffed and moaned softly, as he often did when he was about to wake up, “Haaarryyyy…” she sang as she patted his cheek now and he pouted as his eyebrows creased together.

“Not yet.” He muttered under his breath and she giggled.

“Baby, we’re at the doctor’s office still. You can’t stay here.” She sniggered and after she bugged him a bit more he slowly blinked his eyes open.

“Wait? Where are we?” He asked softly and with some confusion as he looked up at Y/N. The bright lights behind her were making him squint.

“The doctor’s! You passed out from seeing the procedure.” She explained with an amused grin and he frowned.

“Tha’s only ‘cause I skipped breakfast.” He mumbled.

“We came straight here after we ate lunch.” She reminded him with a smirk.

“Oh, come off it…” he said as he started to sit up and she helped him.

“I’m not laughing at you, I passed out too because I saw all the blood-”

“Just don’t…I don’t want to think about what I saw…” he said and she chuckled.

“Told you it was pretty gross.” She said and he shook his head.

“That’s an understatement. Lucky for us we don’t have to do this for a living.” He said and she giggled and the sighed.

“Baby, now I’m concerned though.” She said and he looked perplexed.

“About what?”

“About what’s gonna happen to you when I’m having our baby! I mean…there’s bound to be even more blood and lots of pain…and probably other…stuff.” She cringed at the thought, “Like…it’ll be a mess if we both can’t hang!” She said and he shook his head.

“No, no that’ll be different. Vastly different.” He assured her, “Like I’d probably be up there with you encouraging you. I’m not jumping at the opportunity to like seethe mechanics of it either, specially if you don’t want me to.” He assured her.

“Well even from up there you’ll see our bloody and soggy ass baby when it…comes out and-”

“And I will be fine!” He cut her off and she chuckled. “You were right though, there was a lot more blood than I expected for this procedure, but it was the little implant sticking out that…ugh, can’t even think about it or I will puke.” He said with an icky look on his face as he shook his head in disapproval.

“I’m giving you a hard time, baby. Thank you for coming with me for this though, feel bad now though.” She said with a soft and grateful smile and he just grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. The door to the room swung open and in came the nurse with the water she had promised Y/N.

“Sleeping beauty is back with us!” She teased with a chuckle and Y/N saw how Harry flushed a bit in embarrassment. She didn’t want him to feel bad about this any more than he already did and it was one thing for her to tease him and another thing for it to be a stranger.

“I should’ve just listened to him and we should’ve had lunch before we came here…” Y/N said and the nurse shook her head as she handed the water bottles to them.

“Rookie move, hon.” She said to Y/N.

“I know, but I just figured if I did puke for any reason it would be less messy if I didn’t eat…and Harry even missed breakfast so he had legitimate reasons to pass out, unlike me.” She sniggered and she saw Harry smile at her as she covered for him so that the nurse wouldn’t tease him anymore.

“You’re an angel for not rubbing the fact that you were right in her face.” The nurse said to Harry and he smiled as he continued running his thumb over her knuckles.

“You know, we don’t really like to do that to each other.” He said as he continued smiling right at Y/N.

“That’s definitely the right man to have babies with.” The woman said to Y/N and they all chuckled softly as she agreed with her that he was the very best. After receiving confirmation of her birth control pills being sent to her pharmacy, Dr. Ramirez did a quick check up to ensure that their vitals were normal so that they were able to head out safely. Their car ride was quiet for a bit before he turned to her at the stop light.

“Baby, thank you for…stepping in when the nurse was gonna tease me about passing out.” He said and she smiled.

“Of course, H. Only I get to joke around with you like that. Well, even anyone close to you really, not a stranger. And truly, I’m sure they were at least prepared for me to pass out, I have before when I’ve had to get a shot or blood work done.” She confessed and he pouted, “Yeah… How the hell am I supposed to watch them do that to our baby?” She questioned.

“I can do doctor duty, love. Don’t worry.” He assured.

“OK, prefect.” Y/N agreed happily. 

She liked when they talked this way with each other, so certain of what their future had in store for them. And it was nice to know that these were things they’d both wanted so badly as individuals, but coming together, knowing that your partner wanted the same things as you and valued family the same…it just made them both feel even more connected to each other. Later that evening they recounted their experience to Julie who could not stop cracking up 

“Ah…” she exclaimed as her laughing fit died down, “I love you kids, my life would be so dull without the two of you around.” Julie confessed with crinkly eyes and a big smile, “I’m glad you’re alright though.”

“Yeah, me too! At least Harry didn’t concuss himself. You like, passed out in slow motion!” Y/N explained as she laughed and Harry laughed along with her as he shook his head in slight embarrassment.

“So…does this mean that you’re thinking of having a baby soon?” Julie asked with a grin and Harry smiled.

“Ummm, yeah. Ideally this’ll happen once we’ve moved though.”

“I got the pill for now. I just wanted to have the procedure done with a doctor I knew and was comfortable with.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Julie nodded, “Well for what it’s worth, I think the two of you will be absolutely incredible parents.” She said and Harry and Y/N smiled at each other happily.

… OCTOBER …

It was the middle of the night when Y/N felt Harry pull her in towards his body. The action wasn’t all that subtle so it did stir her awake. They had only been in asleep for about 3 hours according to the clock on her bedside table. They’d gone to Oogie Boogie Bash at Disneyland with everyone from the shop and their significant others and had quite a long day. But still Harry was awake for some reason and he huffed like he did when he was upset and she frowned a bit.

“You OK?” Y/N asked softly and he hummed before kissing the side of her head before he shuffled a bit closer to her.

“Mhmm. I was just having a dream that the baby was in the bed with us and I couldn’t hold you like this anymore.” He mumbled lowly, she didn’t have to see his face to know he was pouting a bit as he told her this.

“Oh baby, you don’t have to worry about that. Co-sleeping is not an option.” She said quietly, “Like I don’t mean we can’t ever have a cuddle or anything like that with the baby in bed, but they should sleep in their own space.” Y/N assured and he smiled.

“Good.” He hummed, “Doesn’t seem safe anyway.”

“I mean, it can be done safely. But I just don’t think the benefits outweigh the problems it can bring and I’m not even including the potential hazards.” She said, now even more awake as she considered this and what she knew of the topic. It was a rather big topic for 4am so now her brain was starting to spark up.

“Are you awake awake now?” He asked and she chuckled.

“Definitely.” She confirmed and he sighed.

“Sorry, m’love.” He apologized before kissing her shoulder.

“S’alright. They’re good things to think about.” She assured him and he mumbled his agreement, “I like how we talk about this like the baby was already real or like already here.” She whispered and he smiled.

“Manifestation 101.” Harry whispered back and she smiled, “I think the more real we make them in our mind the more prepared we’ll be for them. They’ll feel that from the very start they were just wanted and loved so much, you know?” He asked her.

“Yeah.” She responded with a smile.

“I do have one condition about us having a baby though.” He said and Y/N decided to just turn around to face him despite the darkness.

“What’s the condition?”

“Well given the holiday coming up in a few weeks I realized that I want to choose the Halloween outfits for our baby until they can form their own opinions.” He said and Y/N chuckled.

“No way. No!”

“What? Why not?”

“Because! What if I have a great idea for one?”

“Well you can suggest it and I can decide if it’s good enough or not. I won’t be closed to suggestions, I just want to be the one to decide.” He explained.

“Well knowing you, you’ll have the baby dressed as like a meatball or something else equally stupid!”

“Oh my god, it’s not stupid! We have to take advantage while the baby is chubby! And it doesn’t have to be a meatball, though that was one of the options…what about a sprout? Like a Brussel spout?” He defended his idea and she cackled because she had guessed right on what kind of things he’d put the baby in if he had his way.

“Noooo! They’ll look like a lump of shit or a booger, Harry! What if we have a little girl and she looks back at her halloween costumes and she see’s herself as a meatball? Like no…she’d never forgive you and I wouldn’t either.” She expressed her concern and he sighed.

“OK, not a meatball or a sprout then…something else. What about a tennis ball?”

“What is this obsession you have with round things? Nothing round!” Y/N sighed in exasperation and he sighed.

“Baby, tennis balls are small-round, so cute! And they’re fuzzy and a cool color.” He pleaded his case and Y/N shook her head in disapproval.

“Just…go to sleep, Harry.” Y/N mumbled through a giggle.

“Baby…” he whined lowly as his big, warm hand rubbed up her hip and then down to her thigh, slow and tender.

“You can’t be serious, H.”

“I am so serious that it’s not even funny.” He spoke with such zeal into the darkness and Y/N sighed.

“One round costume. Just one.” 

“Two?” He bargained and Y/N sighed.

“Fine…but they can’t be ugly colors or food. Make it like a sun or like a little chick hatching, just something cute. Definitely not a meatball, please.” She requested. In moments she felt Harry’s lips press against her own gently.

“Fine, not a meatball.” He responded against her lips and she smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He said back softly. 

Harry was fun. He could be really serious and intimidating but once you got to know him he was a total softy. He was silly, quirky, annoying (in an amusing way) and most of all, extremely lovable. So even when he said ridiculous things like wanting to dress up their future baby in a meatball costume Y/N couldn’t get upset at him. In a way, these things about him made her love him just a little bit more and she wouldn’t waste a single opportunity to let him know. So now she was the one surging forward and connecting their lips together in a kiss, though it caught him by surprise when he slightly parted his lips to say something she gently rolled her tongue inside and swiped it along his own. He pulled back from her, surely grinning from ear to ear.

“Whoa…where did that come from?” he asked her quietly with a big grin.

“I just love you and your nonsense a lot.” She responded softly.

“Oh.” He hummed happily, “So-”

“No, that doesn’t mean I’ve changed my stance on the meatball or brussel sprout costumes ideas.” She said and he chuckled.

“You know me way too well. S’like you live in my brain and read my thoughts.” He said quietly and Y/N smiled.

“I mean, I would hope I live in your brain!” She giggled, “You live in mine. Rent free, might I add.” She said softly and he shuffled a bit and then kissed her forehead.

“Harry’s house.” He mumbled before he settled back into his spot beside her.

“Yeah.” She smiled.

“You know I find myself wishing we’d met before, but when I just see how we are I’m glad we didn’t cross paths until now. Like we found each other at the perfect time, you know? And as much as I would’ve loved to have you in my life from the very beginning, I think the reason we work so well now is because of the people we are now, you know?”

“Yeah. I think so too. But hey, we’ve got the rest of our lives left to learn more about each other and to love each other…to build a life together that we’re both happy with and proud of.” She whispered, “Well, actually I think we’ve already started that bit.”

“Yeah, we definitely have.” He said huskily before he scooted over and kissed her again. Her hand reached up and held his well-defined, masculine jaw with the utmost tenderness as their kiss deepened. She felt relief as his body weight pressed down over her, he was like the best weighted blanket, everything about him oozed comfort to her. His scent, his warmth, the softness of his skin…she ground up to his hips and he smiled into their kiss. “I’ll get to that, baby. Be patient for me.” He spoke lowly and it made a chill roll down her spine.

“Yes, daddy.” She responded without even giving it any thought and Harry groaned and completely gave in to his carnal needs. His cock immediately started to harden up as the blood in his body rushed to his groin.

“Fuck, spread your legs f’me.” He spoke against her lips and she parted her legs wider so that he could grind against her center better.

The friction against their most sensitive parts was making them both even more aroused. It was just a few moments before she was raising her hips to get her bottoms down and Harry was doing the same, clumsily trying to get his briefs off. Finally he was hovering between her legs again, his thick and sensitive tip was rubbing and prodding at the crease of her entrance. He was slicking his cock up and she anticipated his next move and shivered as he guided it up to her clit. He rubbed himself against it, exhaling shakily at the feeling it was giving him, but knowing that it felt good for her also got him off. Y/N moaned quietly as her clit started to tingle harder and to throb as the delicious feelings grew with each swipe and rub of his cock on her clit. Harry bit his lip to hold back his groan at the sounds of her labored breathing and very soft squeaks of pleasure. He was aching to be sheathed in her tight, cushy, and saturated pussy. 

“Daddy, please get inside.” Y/N supplicated softly. Her tone of voice was light and feathery, it made her skin rise with goosebumps. It made him shiver as he ran his cock back down her drippy slit and he sighed in relief as he pressed at her little hole, with his increasingly added pressure his cock started to sink deeper and deeper into her canal.

“Fuck, babygirl…” he exhaled. He had fucked plenty of people, but no one felt like her. She was so hot and squishy inside. Not to mention just how wet she was, it made it so easy for him to sink every inch of his cock into her tiny cunt. Every bump and ridge of hers stimulated the perfect spots on his cock. And he loved that his length reached right at her cervix right now. He knew she was due for her period soon because it was usually low like this when she was getting close to it. He put more weight over her and she hissed as his cock poked against the smooth and firm structure. “Oh fuuuuck…fuck.” He drawled out a deep moan as his sensitive head glided and prodded at her cervix. 

Y/N was tense beneath him, the feeling was a bit uncomfortable but there were enough peaks of pleasure that she didn’t stop him, it was obviously feeling really good for him. He’d never stayed this deep for that long, but it seemed that he was entranced at the moment and was only making her wetter hearing his sexy sounds. She slipped her hand between their bodies and started to rub her clit in swift circles, her actions nearly effortless from how drenched she was on Harry’s cock. 

“Good girl, play with your pussy for me.” He encouraged her and hummed in approval, “Gonna kneel t’get deeper.” He said and she bit her lip and let him reposition her just a bit before he was sinking back into her with far less resistance than at the start. She held her breath as he then pushed a bit harder. But he somehow thrust up and she gasped in shock as he impaled right into her g-spot. He gave a few testing thrusts and her eyes rolled back and she moaned loudly, the sound muffled up as he placed his hand over her mouth. He’d reached there with his fingers but his cock was bigger and it felt better. 

Her abs were already tensing as he ground into her for a few seconds and then he went back to thrusting. The rapid changes in his technique were not letting her orgasm build as fast as she wanted. The pleasure was dragging on and on, he was so great at edging her. She could feel her body start to wind up and right before she could get into that sweet spot he’d transition to the next pattern. This went on for a bit of time, she could tell that he was also struggling with this, but he wasn’t going to let up just yet. There was always a part of him that loved torturing himself like this and if she was a willing participant even better. But she was getting to the edge of it all, she was having to tense her curl her toes to attempt to hang on just a bit more.

“Mmmm daddy, I need t’come! Please, I need t’come!” Y/N whimpered into his palm.

“Just hang on a little longer, my love. Be good and wait for daddy.” He grunted with each thrust and she exhaled shakily and squeezed her eyes shut, “Can you be good for me and stay quiet?” She nodded and he removed his hand from over her mouth. “Rub your clit f’me.” He instructed, “Rub it f’me like you do when you’re alone and thinking about me.” He said lowly and she pressed her lips together and moaned softly, “Fuck, now that we got that thing out of your arm we can try for a baby.” He panted, “M’gonna have to be this deep so that it’ll catch, babygirl.”

“Fuck, please daddy! Make it catch!” She whispered breathily and Harry moaned lowly as his abs tensed as he started nearing his orgasm.

“I will, babygirl. Fuck, m’so fucking full and swollen for you.” He panted, “Gonna drain my balls in your tasty, little pussy. Gonna put a baby in you, babygirl.” He grunted as his thrusts started to slow in speed but increase in force.  She gasped at the feeling, she was getting so close to coming, her legs were starting to shake around his hips.

“Yes, daddy, yes! Let’smakeababy.” She slurred as her walls started to tighten up around Harry.

“Fuck yeah…gonna make you give me so many babies.” He whispered as he started to rut against her, “You’re so good letting me use your body like this. Letting me use you to make my babies. Shit…so fucking breedable…” he moaned. The repeated prodding at her g-spot combined with her fingers zooming around her clit had started to make her wither. Her breath was hitching and her moans slipped past her lips involuntarily, “Shhh, shhhh…” Harry urged her as he tried to stay on rhythm. She started to submit to it all, to feelings of excitement and pleasure and love for Harry, it was just too much.

“Oh fuck, keep going just like that, daddy! That’s such a good spot, it feels so good right there!” She keened. Harry focused on making sure to keep going until she was pulsing around him and he fervidly continued thrusting his hips towards her, “I’m gonna come! I’m-I’m…” her voice cracked as her back arched. Harry exhaled hard through his nose as Y/N came undone. It felt so fucking good she swore her brain melted as the pleasure crawled through her veins, the butterflies in her stomach mimicked the feeling one got from dropping from a tall rollercoaster. Her eyes rolled back and she started to trembled as he kept going, overstimulating her in the process of him chasing his own orgasm. Harry’s balls were starting to throb as they pumped his sperm up the thick shaft of his cock, loading it up so that he could drown her pussy with his sperm and get her pregnant. Fuck, he wanted to get her pregnant so badly, he was desperate to give her a baby soon. His rhythm faltered as he reached his limit.

“Fuck babygirl, ready f’me?” He asked lowly, “I’m coming…fuck, I’m coming!” He moaned softly as he started to shoot thick, milky white streams of his sperm into her generously. With each thrust he’d spill in just a bit more of his cum. The wet, squelching sounds of him driving his cum deep into her pussy were making him dizzy along with her soft whimpers and praises for giving her so much of his seed. It made his orgasm feeling like it went on for ages as he just shivered and vibrated from the pleasure. 

“Shit.” Harry panted tiredly as he finally stopped moving. He leaned down and kissed her passionately for a few moments before he pulled out of her and Y/N’s walls tightened around nothing at the loss of his warmth. “Gonna get something to clean you up.” He said and she just hummed. He quickly put on his briefs and quietly rushed into her bathroom across the hall from her bedroom. The floorboards just faintly creaked beneath his weight when he entered her room again. She was spent and she felt so spacey, seemingly having gone under just a bit. She frowned and draped her arm over her face when her bedside lamp came on.

“Sorry, my love. Could’t see.” He said quietly and then gently dabbed the toilet paper at her entrance to soak up any excess cum. His mouth watered a bit when he saw the big creampie he’d given her, she was loaded up completely. He knew she was on the pill, but he just wanted to treat this like a time when he was actually trying to get her pregnant. It had all been so hot and primal and real…he couldn’t end the fantasy now. So he just reached for her shorts and helped get them on. “Alright, be right back!” He said and rushed back to the bathroom to go pee and toss the soiled toilet paper. When he returned he smiled when he saw her curled up and peering up to the door waiting for him.

“Hurry, I think m’under a bit.” She whispered and he quickly shut the door and hopped into bed. He reached back to get the light off as she melted against his body. “You played so well, my love. Felt like we were doing it for real.” He muttered against her ear.

“Yeah, it did.” She whispered and smiled when he kissed her head. “Was so good.”

“Yeah, it was…but it’s always so fucking good with you. You’re so fucking good f’me, my love. So fucking pretty and pliant.” He praised her as he rubbed her tummy with his hand, “Thank you for being so good f’me.”

“Course, daddy. Love you.” She whispered happily. 

“I love you too, baby.” Harry whispered. And after expelling all that energy and living in a beautiful fantasy they soon fell back asleep. 

… NOVEMBER …

Y/N and Julie were busy making a nice little dinner for Anne and Hillary’s arrival. Harry had called about half an hour prior to inform them that his mom and grandma’s flight had to do an emergency landing in New York for fuel so their arrival was delayed for about an hour, give or take. She and Julie were not bothered by this information because This delay also gave them time to do some extra tidying up around the house. Y/N had just finished tidying up the entrance of the house when Julie opened up the front door.

“Phone’s ringing!” She informed handing it over to her.

“Oh no, that’s my alarm for my birth control.” Y/N said when she recognized the tune she had set for that, “Be right back!” She said grabbing her phone from Julie and proceeded to rush over to her bedroom to get her pills from her purse. 

She dug around for the little sleeve they were encased in and finally found them and pulled them out. She absentmindedly popped it out and tossed the little pill in her mouth before reaching for the water bottle on her nightstand and drinking some down to help it pass faster. When she attempted to slip the little packet of pills back into the sleeve she was struggling and realized that it was catching and just turned it face up and then she just stared at it for a few moments when she realized that she was on the second pill of three pills that were supposedly supposed to be the “period pills” - meaning she was supposed to be on her period now. She set them down and tried to do some mental math about when she’d gotten her last period. As she pondered this a memory resurfaced.

She was supposed to start her period the day before Halloween…had it already been a month? She set the little packet of pills down and furrowed her eyebrows as she just tried her best to make sure that it hadn’t come late…but she remembers that she was quite stressed that week because it was her mom’s birthday and she had also been spamming her with pics of her nieces and nephew’s “spirit week” outfits during those days. Her dad had texted her a scolding for her not calling her mom on her birthday… her period was very flaky under stress, it always had been so she didn’t think much of it at the time and clearly she’d forgotten all about it. There was no way she was pregnant… but then when she thought further back she recalled that she’d been really inconsistent with the birth control pills the first couple weeks because she kept forgetting to take them…that’s when she decided she’d set an alarm for them… and then her eyes widened even more when she recalled that it was during those weeks that she and Harry had literally had the hottest sex of their relationship in this very room, just a few steps away on her bed. She was still processing when she walked over to the kitchen to find Julie. When she walked in she stood there for a few seconds silently as she pieced together how she would even break this news to her aunt.

“What? You’re creeping me out!” Julie chuckled as she spared Y/N a glance. She swallowed thickly her tongue felt so heavy, almost as if it were unwilling to help her form the words. “You’re scaring me.” Julie said with a slight frown now as she set down the knife in her hands.

“Ummm…I…I think we need to get a pregnancy test.” She finally got out softly and with so much anxiety laced in her voice. Julie’s frown slowly turned up into a smile as she brought her hands up to hold her face.

“Are you serious right now?” She asked and Y/N nodded.

“So fucking serious.” She managed to breathe out and Julie nodded and rushed over to the burner to shut it off and move the food to the cool one behind it. 

“OK! OK! Let me get my bag and my keys and we’ll go.” She said and rushed out of the kitchen only to peek back in seconds later, “I need you to chug like 2 water bottles.” She said and then hurried away again.

After 20 minutes they were back at the house with a few pregnancy tests. Y/N knew she didn’t need that many but she wanted to at least take 2 just to be sure and well, it wouldn’t hurt to have a few on hand in case this was just a little glitch in her system. She did need to pee and Julie provided her with a disposable cup to pee in to get an actual clean sample on both tests. Eventually another 15 minutes had passed and Y/N was still distracting herself in the kitchen. Julie’s exasperated sigh called her attention.

“We need to check.”

“I’m scared.” Y/N confessed.

“Of what?” Her aunt asked with compassion.

“What if I end up exactly like my parents and I? Like what if I’m not ready? Or what if Harry’s not ready yet? Like…what if he doesn’t take it well? Or his mom and grandma! Oh my god… oh my god!!!!” She started to spiral.

“Relax, they’re not like our family, remember?” Julie reminded her with gentle hands on her shoulders. “And if you are, Harry will be thrilled. You know it!” Julie assured her with a smile and Y/N exhaled slowly.

“Yeah. He wants this with me.”

“He really does. Wants to marry you and everything.” Julie threw in a wink and Y/N smiled at her aunt, “And the more I see you two together, planning your lives, the more I’m confident that you two were destined to do this and just… do life together.” She said with so much love for her in her eyes. Y/N just hugged around her tightly and Julie smiled and groaned as she squeezed Y/N back just a little tighter. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.” Y/N whispered with welled up eyes. Moments later Julie was following Y/N to the bathroom.

“Well?” Julie asked as Y/N hesitated to step in far enough to get a glimpse, “Am I a grandma or not?” Julie asked impatiently and Y/N groaned as she just reached for the tests and looked over them.

“Ahhhhhh!!!!!” She literally shrieked at the top of her lungs as she jumped up and down excitedly with the biggest smile as tears rolled down her face. 

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!” Julie shouted as Y/N hurried over and hugged her tight. She kissed her head a few times before they both started screaming excitedly again through their tears.

There wasn’t a speck of doubt in Y/N’s body as soon as she saw the 2 positive tests. Julie was right, she and Harry were destined to be in each other’s lives. Theirs was such a special type of love, everyone could see it. She had the best person on the planet to start a family with. He would make the very best dad, she could already envision it. And envision his reaction when she’d tell him. He’d probably be happier than her, if that were even possible. Being swallowed up in their bubble of ecstasy, Y/N and Julie didn’t hear the front door open.

*******

Harry came in already laughing since he heard Y/N & Julie screaming through the front door. His mum and gran were chuckling along with him as he made some joke about how excited they were to see them. But when he got the door open he saw Julie and Y/N down the hall, outside of the bathroom. They were screaming and jumping up and down in a circle. He laughed along as they seemed to not even realize they had arrived. His mum and gran were giggling at the commotion.

“What on earth is going on here?” Harry asked with a big, dimpled smile on his face. It was a bit scary how perfectly in sync Y/N and Julie had shut up and turned in his direction. They then looked at each other and Julie just nodded reassuringly with an easy smile, it made Harry’s heart start to race. And Y/N reached into the bathroom before she turned back and held out what looked to be a pregnancy test to him. He walked over to her and looked down at it and his heart immediately started racing and his body started to buzz from the inside out. His vision started to blur as his lips started to turn up as the two pink lines before him were burned into his memory. He looked up into her joyfully glossy eyes and then looked down at the breathtakingly meek smile on her lips then back to her eyes. It made him fall in love with her all over again. He was smiling so wide now, her smile matching his. Her tears inevitably catalyzing his own crying. He inhaled sharply and just stepped forward and wrapped her up in his arms as his body shook with some sort of sobbing-laughing thing that somehow felt like the only acceptable reaction to this news.

“Oh, my love….” He whispered as he swayed them from side to side a few times as she cried in his arms. His eyes glanced to Julie only to see her hiding her smile with her hands. She was crying too, but she stepped forward and grabbed the test from his hand and hurried over to his mum and grandmother. Julie presumably showed it to them because he faintly heard his own family shrieking excitedly and shouting praises and congratulations. He squeezed her just a bit harder and relished in the feeling of her in his arms; he’d never felt more close to her than he did in that very moment.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” She said through her tears and he nodded and dipped down to finally kiss her lips. It was tender but heavy with passion. He grabbed her face gently and pecked her lips over and over again. His kisses moved down her jaw, neck, chest, and finally to her stomach. He kissed her three times before pressing himself back up from his kneeling position and pulling her into his arms again.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, “Thank you so much, my love.” He whispered again.

And just for a few moments they felt like they were alone in the universe and having this moment together. Julie, his mum, and gran all blubbering just a few feet behind him were the thing that made him touch back down to reality. He looked down to his lover, his life partner, and best friend with a look of gratitude before he pulled apart and allowed his mum and gran to come hug Y/N. Julie came over and squeezed Harry in a warm hug.

“Congrats, H.” She said softly, “You guy’ll be amazing.”

“Thank you.” He said softly as he pulled back to smile at her before they turned to see his mum releasing Y/N to allow his gran to hug her as well. She offered some assurances and congratulations as she held her close for a few moments before she let her go and Y/N turned back to him and he suddenly had a mischievous glint in his eyes. “AND SCENE!” He shouted as seriously as possible and his mum and gran looked to each other in a disillusioned manner and Julie tutted and back handed his chest.

“You little shit.” She scolded him before his lips turned up into a toothy grin as he sniggered and his mum and gran shook their heads in disapproval of his innovative, yet ill-timed humor.

“She’s right, you are a little shit.” His gran said and Y/N burst into laughter and leaned into his mum. 

Harry couldn’t stop staring at her for the rest of the night or take his hands off of her. He just yearned to be as near as possible. He knew he loved her before, but he had no idea that he was capable of loving even more. It almost hurt, how much love he felt for her. Having this together was something that tethered them to each other in such a special way for the rest of their lives. Literally, this little sea monkey looking thing, fighting for life inside of her was tangible evidence of their love and devotion to each other. He felt like he was in a trance of sheer joy for the rest of the night. And when they were back at his place he wandered into the bathroom as she applied her moisturizer with a soft smile on her face. His hand slid down from her waist and to her tummy. She was so soft to the touch and he just splayed his palm out over her and he smiled at her through the mirror as he just sent all of his good vibes and good intentions to the little clump of cells and genetic chaos that would become their perfect baby in a few months.

“Thank you.” He expressed his gratitude to her once again. This is something he’d always wanted and there wasn’t a better person for him to share this with. 

“Thank you.” She insisted and he chuckled.

“Is it too early to start talking names?” He asked and she sniggered and shook her head.

“No, it’s never too early! Tell me your ideas.” She assured and he kissed her cheek sloppily before dragging her into bed and sharing ideas until they both dozed off.

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---- TAG LIST ----

@sunshinemoonsposts @ottawaoutlander @gurugirl @daphnesutton @sunflovverharry @permanentllyharry @justlemmeadoreyou @angelbabyyy99 @cherrysulewski @sad-avocado @jessitpwk @reveriehs @keriberi

[virtie333]

Day 21 - Life Day Damerey Celebration

Prompt: Matching Pajamas

Summary: The prompt speaks for itself

Notes: Modern AU. This was fun!

AO3

It was their first Christmas living together, and Rey was excited for Christmas Eve, when the two of them would open their presents, both the ones sent by friends and family, and those they had gotten for each other. Rey could already picture it. They would light the fire, and then turn off all the lights except those on the tree they had decorated together just after Thanksgiving. Having grown up in foster homes and orphanages, Christmas had always been a touchy holiday. While she always got a present or two from whoever her guardian was at the time, she never really felt the joy and excitement she had always believed most children felt around Christmas. But this year, she was as giddy at the little girl that she had never had a chance to be.

They were planning on going to Poe’s father’s house the next day for Christmas dinner, but the night before it would be just the two of them, and that was more than enough for Rey. She had long ago learned that spending time with one person who she loved and trusted was far better than spending time with a dozen acquaintances.

After dinner that night, as she finished clearing off the table and loading the dishwasher (whenever Poe cooked, Rey cleaned), Poe came into the kitchen with a shit-eating grin on his face and a brightly decorated gift bag in his hand.

Rey was confused. “I thought we weren’t going to open presents until later?”

“We aren’t,” Poe confirmed. “This is special. You need to open it before we start the unwrapping tonight.”

Rey gave him a wary look. “I don’t trust you when you smile like that.”

Poe looked offended. “There are times you don’t trust me? Like when?”

“Like when you smile like that,” Rey explained. “It always means something’s about to happen that is going to embarrass me.” Like the time he started twerking to ‘Big and Juicy’ when they were at Rose and Finn’s engagement party. Or when he starting singing New Rules on the Karaoke stage at the Tavern; it didn’t matter that they weren’t having Karaoke that night, nor that he was really good.

Poe looked around the room, wide-eyed. “Is there anyone here to be embarrassed in front of?” he asked. “It can’t be me. I’m the guy you fart on, remember?”

She smacked his arm. “Shut up!” she said, laughing. “What’s in the bag?”

“Are you sure you want to know? I don’t want to embarrass you!”

“Poe!”

“All right, all right!” He handed her the bag.

Cautiously, she took out the tissue paper on the top, then peered inside. It looked like… a blanket?

She reached in and pulled whatever it was out. It wasn’t a blanket. The green material was soft to the touch, and was decorated with images of Christmas: Santa, presents in red wrapping, candy canes, and snowflakes. She pulled the whole length of material out and shook it, revealing a complete, adult sized, onesie. With feet.

“Footie pajamas?” she asked. Poe knew she liked to sleep in soft, sleeveless nightshirts, her feet bare.

“Look! Look!” Poe exclaimed. He rushed out of the room, then came back in holding an identical pair of pajamas. “We can match!” He grinned.

Rey stared at him. He looked so genuinely happy, but she was flabbergasted.

“I… I…”

“No one else is gonna see us, Rey,” he told her, his smile fading just a little. “Come on! Just while we open presents tonight. For me?”

Damn it. He was giving her that puppy dog look.

“All right,” she said through clenched teeth. “But there better be alcohol involved, too.”

Poe jumped up and down a bit. “Of course!” he agreed. “Enough alcohol, I can maybe talk you into a cute little matchy-match selfie!”

“In your dreams, Dameron.”

“Nope!” he denied. “That will be after we open presents.” He leaned in to whisper in her ear, his voice suddenly dropping in timbre. “When I assist you out of your footie pajamas for the night.”

Rey shivered. “Keep talking like that, and I just might agree to that selfie,” Rey teased.

“Count on it.”

[khodorkovskaya]

You're right I'm gonna look for some groups to join or somthing because I'm deffo lonely

yesss!

here's how ive been socialising lately/in the past:

group workout sessions

so my city organises free exercise sessions by the lake every summer. and i go twice a week. and it's great! it's usually about 20-30 people and we don't really talk, but just the feeling of being surrounded by people who are all doing the same thing as you feels very nice.

church

okay so this one's a little weird and not for everyone. but i really enjoy singing and church is the only place i know where i can sing in a good quality choir for free. bc other free choirs id been a part of were very amateur and it was basically singing lessons for people who can't sing, no offence. whereas at church, we just come in, sing, and that's it. and the people there are so good at singing!

the vibes are a bit weird tho. there's always people falling to their knees, crying, etc. it's insane. the priest always talks about some weird stuff too. like there's always some kind of drama going on. it's very weird. but i lowkey love it. like the other week the church got fined for "praising the lord too loudly" and the people in the neighbourhood complained to the police. and another week someone sent scam messages to people pretending to be father paul asking for money so father paul had to be like guys that wasn't me. anyway, every week there's some new drama. and people be crazy.

so yeah i just go there for singing and, again, to get that feeling of being part of a crowd that i really love. but i don't talk to anyone there bc everyone's always praying or talking about god and that's not really my vibe idk. if you're lonely and lost in life i definitely don't recommend getting into religion. figure yourself out first and then join a group if you really feel like you'll fit in, but not the other way around. the people i know who've converted to islam or became catholic or whatever don't seem very happy tbh.

sports club

so i took ice skating lessons this year and i went to skating camp during the easter holidays. and it's the kind of place that's great for small talk. because we'd only ever talk about skating and it was great. no deep conversations, no political talk, no questioning. just like "who's your favourite skater", "how did you get into skating", "look at xyz skating accessory i got", "what trick would you like to learn", etc.etc.

different kinds of sports attract different kids of people too. so my manchester bestie for example has always been a part of some kind of martial arts club like taekwondo or kickboxing. she says that she's always felt very comfortable around the people there bc people who do martial arts are usually very reliable and understand consent/boundaries. it's just a certain personality type, yknow. and with skating too, it's a very specific kind of crowd, usually quite well off, artistic, studious, sensitive. i feel quite comfortable in skating circles. so yeah, finding a sport that attracts your kind of people is great. again, are you gonna be friends with these people outside of the sport you do together? probably not. but that's okay.

associations/societies/clubs

so i know in my country associations are super common, idk about other countries tho. but where i live there's an association for everything. every single public parc has their own association, every interest/hobby has their own little club. like there's the tea lovers society in my neighbourhood! you can literally find a club for everything.

i used to be a member of the astronomical society. but the average age there was like 70 so it wasn't much of a vibe. but i really enjoyed the events we organised. like id always dress up. i dressed up as the moon, as a space princess, as the sun. i was always extra. and it's really fulfilling to like organise events and be a part of something. and all clubs/associations always organise movie nights and game nights and that kind of stuff. so just find one that really vibes with you and it'll be great!

im also a member of this social economy association for work. and they also organise a lot of events. i go there for networking for my work and to be very honest i really don't dig the vibe. it's very leftwing liberal, very much granola millenials but not the fun kind. but sometimes influential political figures hang out there and it's quite entertaining to see them roaming free lol, yknow. and we have made useful connections there for work, so i can't complain.

volunteering

my favourite thing to do when i was a teenager was to volunteer at music and film festivals. because you get free drinks and free tickets for everything. so id go to clubs underage because i was a staff member lol. i have to say, it did lead to some weird things bc the other volunteers were mostly in their late twenties-early thirties and those types of events usually attracted people who were generally lost in life, like lots of weird artistic types and clubbing addicts. and i was this 16 yr old in the middle of it all, flirting with guys and telling everyone i was 21. but despite some weird moments, it was a great and useful experience. idk how old you are, but if you're between the ages of like 18 and 23, i definitely recommend volunteering for a festival! you'll have the wildest parties with all the free drinks and backstage access lol. just be responsible.

conferences/presentations

so if you're older than 23, networking events/conferences/presentations are great. i often go to conferences just like to broaden my horizons and make useful connections for work as a process. again, there's always something going on on meetup or impacthub or something. ive never been able to make friends there because the average age at these types of events is like 35-50, but it's always great to see people who are further in life than you and who have an interesting story to tell or advice to give.

[mediocre-daydreams]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧: ask me any question/let's play some common tumblr games!

cym as different holidays! 💗

11 holidays for 11 mutuals!

christmas (dec 25) is @sw34terw34ther : i always see you chatting with your mutuals! you seem like the person who hosts the best holiday parties and can make their own seasonal drinks. plus with that voice of yours, i could totally see you going carolling. getting tagged in your posts is like a little christmas present.

new year's day (jan 1) is @sub-text : bro is my fucking favorite. i would clean up bottles with you on new year's day. you're so nice it makes me want to cry. i always get sentimental on new years and your writing makes me so sappy and soft bro. you write with such dedication to detail and i can't get enough of it. when i tell you my entire world reset after reading "the bet," i'm sirius serious.

valentine's day (feb 14) is @fairydxll : thanks for this ask btw! imma be honest i tried to urban dictionary what cym was but i'm hoping i got it right and it's "cast your mutuals." (UD was no help i used tumblr.) anyway, you're pink, sparkly, and precious, and you quite literally sent me a heart. i envison you as just the sweetest person ever.

johnny appleseed day (march 11) is @emmaev : i love this johnny dude. tbh no clue if he's real, but as a kid i read a book about him and it was great plus you make me just as happy as i feel when i'm apple picking. you're so insanely supportive and kind and seem down-to-earth and i think johnny would admire your thoughtfulness.

april fool's day (april 1) is @yourallihave : my tumblr wife, obviously. i appreciate you so much. your blog is bright pink and spunky, seeing your name in my notifs always makes me smile, and you have the rare ability to actually make me laugh from something i read online. not just one of those huffs or snorts, yknow?

may day (may 1) is @prettylestrange : colorful hair, colorful blog, and glowing personality. you're like the epitome of spring. i've only ever seen american may day, but it's always full of floral skirts, flower crowns, and the pole with the ribbons and stuff and if midsommar weren't a horror movie, you'd be the may queen.

national apple strudel day (june 17) is @forourmoons : (*said like timothee chalamet in don't look up*) i fucking love apple struedel just likei fucking love you. i'm your biggest fan. you're so talented and you're so interactive with everyone that it feels like you're the perfect flaky pastry crust gordon ramsey would approve of.

national bagelfest day (july 26) is @vendettaparker : if i have extra time in the morning, i'll sit down and grab a bagel before school. your writing is so indulgent and part of the reason i started writing so thank you very much i love you very much. it actually took me a long time to start liking bagels, but when i tried soft bagels for the first time dear god i ascended discovering your blog literally awakened a new jenny.

world plant milk day (aug 22) is @munsonsreputation : hear me out. i'm very passionate about soymilk, but my adoration for your blog comes close second. the way you write with such a balance of artistry, fourth-wall-defying humor, and an understanding of characters makes you as cool as plant milk imo.

dear diary day (sep 22) is @masivechaos : nobody pulls off dark academia like you do. you remind me of hand-me-down sweaters, scrapbook journals, and chocolate covered coffee beans. you're friendly and courteous and i think anyone would feel comfortable talking to you.

halloween (oct 31) is @omenhel : the whole black and white theme fits the vibe and all, but most importantly you seem like someone bold, lighthearted, and who values trying to stay true to themselves. plus you send me asks and it's like getting trick-or-treaters at my door.

(no th*nksg*v*ng on this blog boooo colonization boooo)

[hoolequinn]

Cap-Ironman Rec Week Day 6

It’s Day 6 for Cap-Ironman rec week! Today’s theme is Shiny New Saturday! So here are some of my more recent favs:

15 things to do in NYC if you’ve been stuck in an ice berg for 70 years by @gogglor

Tony and Steve can't stand each other, but they agree for the sake of the team and the people that rely on them that they have to figure out a way to get along. So they come up with a plan to spend time together, in the form of a Buzzfeed listicle of things to do in New York City.

Because if you go to enough museums with the guy you can't stand, you should *eventually* stop hating him, right?

***

Come for the slow burn, stay for everyone's opinions on Cats the musical and a story about teenage Tony stealing an ice cream truck in an attempt to get laid.

You asleep and dreaming by mireille

Tony's started sleepwalking, and he always goes straight to Steve's room.

Steve doesn't really mind.

Promises made not meant to be broken by @iam93percentstardust

In the aftermath, after he’s gotten the team back, after he’s sent that letter, after Natasha has found them, after Vision and Wanda have disappeared together, Steve looks at them all and asks himself, “Who’s there with Tony?"

And, not for the first time, he wonders what he’s done.

if all else goes wrong, i’ll be alright by @ohjustpeachy

“It’s supposed to be a surprise, darling,” Tony tells him, smiling when he feels Steve’s arms wrap around him from behind, warm around his waist as Steve buries his face into the crook of his neck, breath tickling the fine hairs along Tony’s nape.

“Consider me surprised,” Steve smiles, still not lifting his head from Tony’s shoulder.

“Mmm. Did Erskine ever mention you being part koala? I have a theory,” Tony says, setting down a spoon and turning in Steve’s arms.

Or, 5 times Steve hugged Tony, and 1 time Tony hugged Steve.

Engraved by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)

Post Endgame - Soulmate AU - Steve's name was on Tony's right arm which is now gone. One day Steve finds Tony etching Steve's name into his new metal arm

grey november (put me in a bad light) by @areiton

Dark eyes drift over the city and find him, dazed and dull and nothing like the sparkling happiness that he saw that night, standing next to a painting that made him feel naked. It's terrifying and for the first time since he came back to New York--he feels like maybe. Maybe. There's someone who understands a little bit of his own grief. "I know you," he mumbles and Steve nods.

~*~ Two broken people try to heal and maybe even fall in love--there's just one hiccup: One of them isn't telling the truth.

Breaking the law of attraction by @ashes0909 @festiveferret

Everyone knows the sexiest thing about Captain America is his muscles, but Tony's starting to notice something else: his brains.

Everyone knows the sexiest thing about Tony Stark is his brain, but Steve's starting to notice something else: his brawn.

Tony, Steve’s down by @jehbeeeh

“Hey, Cap? Everything okay down there?

“Peachy. Worry about things above, Iron Man.”

“Yeah, see, there’s a problem with me doing that when I can basically see the plan forming in your head right now.”

“If you know what I’m about to do, why are you asking?”

“’Cause there can only be one self-sacrificing moron in this relationship, and I thought we’d established long ago that was me.”

The Ghost of Christmas Present by @ashes0909

Steve was hoping he could get through the holiday season by staying alone in his apartment and not talking to anyone. But then Tony Stark happened.

the sun rises here by partialstars

Steve feels like he's barely closed his eyes when he hears a rustle. His eyes fly open and he squints at the darkness, his vision adjusting immediately, and sees an approaching shape which…

“Tony?”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Cryptomnesia —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: Hope you’re enjoying the last days of 2022, I’m trapped in my house until I’m able to breathe and talk without having a coughing fit lmao -Danny

Words: 1,258

Phase Five Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Just Another Girl’ -by The Killers

xxiii: Patching Up

"You know, I gotta be really honest with you, girls..."

The three of them were at the back of an ambulance, this was the first time they spoke after Kate told them she'd handed her own mother to the police.

"It doesn't happen too often, but every once in a while, you come across somebody that just makes you better in every way... And that Missy, boy— she just outdid herself with the suit, right? The elasticity in this fabric..."

Kate laughed. "Okay, you can stop..."

"I know tonight was a lot," he continued, "you took on Kingpin all by yourselves— and you got him arrested. Not many people walk away from somethin' like that... And I'm so proud of you."

Kate squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

"I honestly wasn't that good, I..." Kate was looking at her, and she stopped before saying the self-deprecating comment. "I'm glad I could be of help. Your family needs you, Clint."

He looked between them with a little smile, realizing what'd happened. "You know what? We gotta walk that dog."

"Yeah, we do," Kate stood. "Let me make sure Jack's okay— I mean I'm sure he will be, he has a penthouse but..."

"We'll wait here," Cat assured her.

Her eyes stayed on the girl until she felt Clint's. "Argh, just spit it out. I can't stand you when you get cheeky."

"You don't like it when others have ways to mess with you," he smirked. "You are a flirt."

"My heart has plenty of room and people keep begging to get some, who am I to deny them?" She innocently.

Clint shook his head. "Kate's not your regular superhero. She's just a girl with a cool suit."

"So?"

"You know what I mean."

Cat looked around at the mess they'd caused, she smiled, lost in thought.

"Steve said something to me when he came back old... never forget that you had a family... I thought he was telling me that I had to honor them, but he was telling me that no matter what, I'll always have them in me."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," Clint sighed heavily. "Been a rough couple of years for ya, huh? But that look on your face..."

She pushed him playfully. "Don't get sappy, we're not that close."

"You're not fooling anyone," he chuckled. "We've always been buddies..."

Cat's eyes found Kate again, she was telling Jack goodbye, and the moment he left she looked terribly lonely.

"Hey, considering we crashed the Bishop's party... don't you think she should have the chance to crash yours?"

Barton's family treated her like she was one of them. They knew her name and knew what she liked to eat and not to use flash when taking pictures, the children had really good memories.

She got a text from Harley and Happy, both spending the Holidays with their respective loved ones (Happy was with Morgan and Pepper). Kurt sent her a picture from New Asgard: he was in the middle of a large table surrounded by different beings, and King Valkyrie was at the end with a charming smirk.

Cat walked out of the house staring at Matthew's contact. They hadn't talked in months, but she wasn't well-versed in break-up etiquette, and she didn't know what to do. Cat regretted the way things ended, she wanted to make sure he was okay.

"No reception?"

The mutant almost dropped her phone. "Shi— I was— er, thinking... I just... well, I was... never mind."

Kate's smirked. "Who were you texting, Cat?"

"You know what, you coming out here at this moment is a sign. I'll let it go."

"Is this about that ex-boyfriend Yelena mentioned when she came to my apartment?"

She groaned. "Yeah. I keep thinking that if I hadn't said yes to that one gig, I'd be celebrating Christmas with him and his friends... but I'm not regretting it much, if I'm honest, and that makes me feel even more guilty."

Kate gave a step forward. "You're not?"

"You and Clint helped me realize a few things, and I got the closure I didn't know I needed. You did that," she pointed before stepping closer to her. "I did most of it, but you were there."

Kate crossed her arms. "Well, if getting the beating of my life helped you realize your worth, I'd gladly go through it again."

Cat tilted her head, and a deja vu came to her, of something similar a long time ago, yet she couldn't place it.

"You're sweet," she concluded. "You have a place to stay after Christmas?"

"No."

"You can stay with me."

Kate opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "You're serious?"

"Yeah."

"But you were about to text your ex!"

Cat looked at her phone and put it in her pocket. "That has nothing to do with what I asked, and I don't even know what you're talking about. Who does that?"

"Many people," Kate said bluntly. "Everyone. At least once in their life."

"Really?" Cat asked in surprise. "I've never gotten back together with anyone."

"No?"

"Well, I've only dated once. I hooked up with my best friend and never did it again," she squinted. "Okay, two times, but it wasn't like we were in love or anything—"

"Okay, Clint wasn't wrong when he said you were a flirt."

"That a turn-off for you?"

Kate pondered. "It makes you cuter, somehow. How do you do that?"

"Maybe I'm just hot."

"Maybe."

"Have you tried covering one half of my face to see if you like me or if it's just that I have pretty eyes?"

"What do you mean?"

"Yeah like those tiktoks, you know, 'Is he handsome or just white?'"

"Hang on," Kate reached for Cat's face and covered her eyes. "Hmmm they are distracting, I mean they're purple, but you also have a great smile..."

Cat giggled, trying to move her hand away.

"Say something weird, c'mon," Kate teased her. "Tell me more about your hookups—"

She laughed, seizing her wrist. Kate was standing really close, and when they locked eyes, a thrilling goosebump ran up Cat's spine causing the tip of her fingers to tingle. Their breaths rose in soft, white puffs, and Kate's cheeks flushed.

"Kate," she marveled at the way the archer's eyes mirrored the snow. "Remember how I said I'm not a good partner?"

"Yeah," the girl replied just as quietly.

"I wasn't lying," Cat's gaze landed on her lips. "But I'm really good in bed."

The archer's face turned scarlet, and she burst into cackles, moving away from Cat.

"You did not just say that! Oh my God!"

"Too forward?" Cat was laughing too. "Okay, well, you didn't let me finish!"

"I'm listening," Kate replied, struggling to keep a straight face.

"I know you like me and you know I like you, but I don't think it's a good idea to try anything serious, at least for a while. I'm not made for forever."

"That's alright with me," Kate agreed, shrugging a little. She laughed again, it was a beautiful sound. "You're amazing."

"You're pretty cool too," she smirked. "So you'll stay in my apartment?"

"Okay."

"Really?"

"I have to confirm if you're telling the truth. About being good in bed."

Cat was grinning from ear to ear. "You done making fun of me?"

"I'm not making fun of you!"

"You are."

"You say crazy things with a straight face and it catches me off guard—"

Cat put an arm around Kate's shoulders and turned her around, guiding her back to Clint's house.

"You have to get used to that, princess, 'cause I don't know how to stop," she said.

"At least I hope it never stops being funny," the archer said, walking beside her and wrapping her own arm around Cat's waist.

"Oh, I've always been hilarious, you don't have to worry about that."

Kate nodded briefly and sighed happily. Cat felt warm against her, she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this young.

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @greengarsstuff​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @itsyagirl01 @23victoria​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @espressopatronum454​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jkthinkstoomuch

[p-antalons]

updated thoughts on NHL teams this holiday season WITH EXPLANATIONS under <3 (update i started this on christmas eve after work. it is now almost new years)

rangers: geographically makes sense. my friends entire family likes them and the first hockey player i ever heard of was panarin (i wrote about him in an ap lang essay once) they are so babygirl to me even if they are a literal mess sometimes <3333 my favs include fox, kreider, and miller who are all so cool. kreider is personal to me for a variety of reasons and i root for his success everyday. fox is simply just!! i adore him and miller is the best and i can’t wait to see how he gets better over time. bonus to panarin for being my first and always looking cool in the videos the rangers twitter posts

-

canes: their vibes are good, they’re young and competitive, fun to watch and their social media presence is really well done <3 favs are kochetkov and skjei (bonus to aho for being my birthday twin) ive liked kochetkov since the second round last year even though his team did lose against mine so!! im happy to see him have such a large role on the canes this year

sabres: literally the sabres just look like they’re having a good time and that all the players love each other which is genuinely so fun to see, their merch is cute (my school’s chorus teacher wore a sabres ugly christmas sweater a few days ago) and i dig the blue and yellow. if i wasn’t a rangers fan this is probably the team i would’ve chosen to root for. unfortunately buffalo as a place was meh (even if it was really high on the list of places i strongly considered going to college) <33 my favs are skinner (MY FAV 30 YEAR OLD MAN) and power who is young and cool ig

senators: the vibes just seem good yk they are young and a mess what more could you want. i thought they’d be doing a lot better than they really are doing this year which sucks but whatever. i know nothing about them but i just feel like rooting for them they have that feel that makes you want them to succeed <3 favs are whatever dynamic is happening with tim and brady it is COMICAL in ottawa and they are literally just so funny to me

devils: that streak was very satisfying, i was wishing only the best for them. technically as a rangers fan the devils are like a metropolitan area rival but i literally do not care? they’re the type of team i root to succeed except for when some other team i like is against them so <333 basic but the fav has got to be jack hughes all of those brothers are FREAKS

-

stars: i like robertson a lot. oettinger is growing on me too and i dig green as a color so the stars are okay in my book

red wings: i got sent about four trade requests for moritz seider. the way he hits people is hilarious to me and i like his wild hair. also dylan larkin is cool. his cheeks are very rosy. their logo is charming and classic

canadiens: nick suzuki you are a delight and i care for you deeply (FIRST ASIAN CAPTAIN IN HABS HISTORY!!!!) the rookies are super entertaining too i like xhejab’s whole narrative

maple leafs: mitch marner. look at him is he not the most endearing player ever. i do not care about the rest of the team but the tavares narrative is intensely funny to me and i applaud him for leaving long island. i can actually name multiple players on this team which im proud of myself for

-

wild: this is mostly because their logo is pretty and i adore their vibes in regards to like kaprizov and reaves in christmas fits. ill say my fav is matt boldy bc he looks like he has a frog in his mouth and bc i don’t really know anyone on the team well enough to pick a fav

flyers: the vibes are so bad to where they’re literally good. it doesn’t make sense at all but that’s how it is. i like the jokes about their coach. fav is tk because he is always on something insane and it is so funny to go on twitter and see what shenanigans he started

penguins: they are so basic but i think everyone has thoughts on the penguins. like first off i know nothing about pittsburgh besides the fact that the penguins exist and that they’re having a great time. i don’t have a specific fav but geno is very funny in interviews so ill say him

avalanche: kept up with them after the rangers got out in the conference finals last year and they were very endearing. the vibes after they won were through the roof and this is probably one of the only teams where i can name the majority of the roster. favs include makar (he was my og avs fav during the cup run) and newy (he’s just … i want to hold him in my pocket)

-

coyotes: i really don’t think i have to explain this? it’s literally where careers go to die, they have no arena at the moment, and everyone makes fun of them constantly. i feel immense amounts of pity for them but it’s always funny when some team that everyone thinks is much better loses to the coyotes. they keep the league on their toes. i can’t pick a fav bc i literally can’t name a single player. logan cooley is a prospect for them tho whose name i do know

ducks: every time they aren’t #32 in the league i consider it a miracle. they’re in such dire straits im not even sure what’s happening. on one hand, i admire the attempt at getting bedard but also like. cmon guys put a pep in your step. fav is going to be trevor zegras bc he’s always getting into something and i admire the NHL trying to advertise him as the face of the sport over mcdavid (he is the only player i know besides gibson so??)

canucks: they are literally so pathetic im not even sure where to get started. that losing streak at the beginning of the season? they are like a sad sopping wet cat. they look so defeated but i admire petey single-handedly dragging them to survival. their news is 90% trade rumors on who is getting sent away. fav will be quinn hughes bc i am basic and he is just Like that but also petey because he’s a delight and blond

-

kings: my brother said “ive heard you mention them like once” which probably shows how much i care about them. i can name one player and it’s kopitar. also like quinton byfield but he’s a prospect. i could care less about them and their color scheme is lame

sharks: i love the sharks logo and their jerseys and their color scheme. unfortunately i don’t care about them as all and the only player i can name is couture and that’s bc he’s the captain and i did a sporcle on NHL captains once

predators: no i don’t know anything about them nor do i want to. i don’t like yellow as a color and roman josi and cody glass are the only players on their roster i know. i don’t even know much about nashville as a city

golden knights: look i really don’t know much about them. yeah mark stone is the captain and yeah i have eichel on my fantasy team but everything i hear about vegas is filled with loathing. i do wish eichel a happy revenge arc but other than that they can flop for all i care

capitals: i think as a team their vibes are good but i just do not care. this is one of the few teams in this tier where i can name more than three players which is a miracle. ive been seeing a lot of videos of dylan strome with his daughter which is adorable and i hope he signs long term in washington. cheers to ovechkin and whatever he’s doing i guess?

lightning: they’re like too good. like everyone gets it you’ve won two cups since 2020 but i just don’t really care? there’s no fun pathetic underdog arc for them. some guy at my school has a bunch of merch for them which makes no sense to me geographically but that’s whatever. stamkos is like the only player from the team that i can name but he’s cool and that video of his son with the zamboni is adorable

jets: i have multiple jets players on my fantasy team and i still can’t remember their names. winnipeg isn’t real to me and i refuse to believe it actually exists. i realize that they’re not even doing bad this year but narratively they’re kind of lame. their logo is meh to me but i love most of their jerseys

blues: i do not care about missouri as a state and know nothing about it. i can’t even believe they have a hockey team. still not a fan of yellow but i think the music note logo is cute. i know robert thomas and whatever that goalie who’s getting roasted on twitter every week. that is the extent of my knowledge and care for them. they won a cup in recent history so.

blue jackets: they’re just kind of sad at the moment because i feel like their entire roster is on IR? i feel like at the moment im writing this they’re probably like #31 in the league so lots of pity but also i just don’t care about them. their logo is pretty tho! i can name four players (werenski, johnson, laine, and gaudreau) so im counting that as a win! i have johnson on my fantasy team so i hope they keep him on the first line forever (update: not thrilled with them putting on a firework show when one of their goalies literally died because of a firework incident that proceeded to traumatize their other current goalie)

panthers: sorry to the panthers but i really don’t care about them? their logo is lame but their reverse retro jerseys are cool so they have that going for them. i know matthew tkachuk plays for them and there was a whole dramatic trade this summer but that’s it!

-

bruins: this one is actually petty i just don’t like them which doesn’t bode well with my future lol. like as far as it goes, they’re a good team and have respectable locker room culture so i should like them more than i do but i just don’t like them. their logo is boring. sorry bruins but i do like mcavoy and root for his success often

flames: i think the battle of alberta is lame. wishing only the best for kadri though who is the only flames player i know!

oilers: i think the battle of alberta is lame (part two) yeah yeah connor mcdavid who is very good but has not expressed an emotion to the media since he was 18 which probably says something about sports culture and i feel bad but also like. edmonton? really? (update after watching the ruff ruff relay, mcdavid’s dog is cute and i like that the oilers did this) tyson barrie is also cool he’s my birthday twin and i wish only the best for him

islanders: my apush teacher in 11th grade was an islanders fan. he wasn’t a great teacher and as a person was questionable, including an implication of calling girls sluts, questionable responses when asked about the lgbtq community, and thinking he was considerably more liberal than he came off as. he microaggressed me as a show of anti racism; i didn’t feel the anti racism energy, in fact i felt very uncomfortable bc it was his response to finding out i did research on racial stereotypes for about the last six months (research that literally ended up with me in multiple newspapers because it was pretty decent). did get a 5 on the exam and 100 in the class but he left a lasting impression of what team i immediately crossed off my list when deciding what hockey team to cheer for. i love the look of their aqua orange color scheme (not the blue orange that is lame) and the fisherman jerseys are super cool. would not be this low in the ranking if i didn’t have that apush teacher, who i always avoid in the halls. if he didn’t exist i might’ve been an islanders fan instead. shoutout to mat barzal whose jersey i see constantly. other players i know are lee, cizikas, and sorokin

-

blackhawks: do i need to explain this. i get literal psychic brain damage every time someone says kane to the rangers. literally psychic brain damage. if kane ever goes to the rangers im cutting my losses and becoming a sabres fan

[turtles-allthewaydown]

The Viscount de Fucking Lettenhove, Chapter 11: Cornflower

Warnings: discussion of forced marriage & related dubious consent

When he was nine years old two new rules were added. The first, added after Paulina threw a fit at the end of a holiday in Cidaris, went like this: do not tell anyone you are afraid to go home.

"You know he'd do anything you ask."

"Anything except stay," she snaps. Her face is doing something complicated that he can't read. She looks out the window as though the answers to all her problems might be among the flowers. "I can't expect you to understand. Can it be enough for you that I wrote to my dearest friend because I was scared?"

He doesn't know what possesses him to say it, but he blurts out, "he is also my dearest friend."

She smiles sadly. "I know. I've loved him since we were children and had to watch him suffer just as long. Imagine for me, witcher, what it must be like to watch the person you love go through that and know there is nothing, nothing you can do about it? To be not just a child, but a girl child at that, and know you have no power to protect- or, indeed, do anything at all. Do you think I let that happen?"

"You're not a child-"

"No," she snaps. "I'm a woman. The only power I've ever had was through my husband who, thanks to you, just died. Forgive me if I'm not in the mood to be condescended to." Ava stands with a bit of difficulty. She goes to the window and when she speaks again it's with her back to him. He can smell the salt of her tears. "Julian is, and has always been, the person I care most for in the world. We thought we'd always- He broke my heart, and I let him, because I knew he didn't have a choice in the matter. I had to marry Symon – had to, understand, I had no choice either – and it broke his heart, too. But while I was being fucked by my dear husband," she scoffs. "He up and vanished. I needed him and he vanished.

"I was so happy for him, when I found out he'd lived. Not just lived, he was traveling with you. Making a new name for himself. He named himself Jaskier."

The name makes her smile sadly, like it has some significance. He'd ask if he weren't so busy feeling ashamed for everything he's said to the woman.

"I never sent a single letter. Leaving was everything he ever wanted, I couldn't endanger that. I had to let him go." She sniffles. "So yes, when something started to kill his- my family, when the husband he abandoned me with was in danger, when I needed him again, I had a moment of weakness and I wrote to him. And in the end it didn't change anything, I'm still a pregnant widow and he's still going to leave with you. So I think it's a little uncharitable for you to take out your anger at Piotr on me."

"You don't have to stay," he says, hoping he's not putting his foot in his mouth for the third time in the past – what, has it even been an hour yet? She looks at him and he has a sinking feeling that he has. "It's the place he's running from, not you," he tries.

Read more on AO3

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

I wanna say that namjoons dad bestfriend drabble was so freaking hot….🥵🥵🥵 maybe part 2? 🙏 when they make out in family house of yn? And her dad is next room 👀 i am so dirty pls forgive me😂

can't believe it took me so long to answer this... okay, so, my requests are not open but i decided to clear up my inbox a bit, starting with this one. as for this part 2... i know it could have been just a short scene with pure smut, but i wanted the drama of the plot, okay? also i'm not doing another psa: this is wrong and pls don't do this, it's just fiction

part 1

Namjoon knew he had to stop this. This... Whatever it was the two of you had. He had found excuses to come see you multiple times throughout the winter, always missing you too much and being unable to stay away for too long. But when you surprised him, secretly coming back to your hometown to be with just him for a week, he wasn't as happy. It was the first reminder of how different your worlds were; he was a grown man minding his career, at an age where he should be seeking marriage and kids. And you? You were skipping school to see your crush.

"I think my daughter has a boyfriend," his best friend casually told him one day soon after that. Namjoon froze, his heart the only thing reacting to those words. But his friend went on nonchalantly, pointing to his ignorance. "I don't mind, of course. I've only told her one thing, and it's not to get pregnant. I don't want her to go through what her mother and I went through, you know? She's at this age... you know? She needs to enjoy her age."

Namjoon... The grown man who should be seeking marriage and kids was fucking this girl. All those times he came inside you, filling you up a little too aggressively– as if deep down he wished he'd knock you up and keep you to himself forever.

He had to end this.

When he told you those same words –you need to enjoy your age, you need to be with a peer– you seemed more mad than hurt. But perhaps you understood. You weren't stupid, you too knew this was wrong. Perhaps you were just waiting for it to happen, waiting for the excitement of doing something against the rules to die out and the realization of the responsibility to hit him. You didn't blame him. But you were still annoyed. Stopped talking altogether, the only news he got from you now came from your father. You did get a boyfriend, or so he was told. And you were doing well with your studies and you were generally living a great student's life.

Summertime and you were here again. Along with your so-called boyfriend. Namjoon was so pissed off when he saw the skinny, mussy, sweaty boy that seemed to either be very slow or high off his ass all the time. And you seemed pleased with yourself.

"You really had to bring him here?"

You chuckled– an evil laugh, he thought. "I thought you'd be happy to see me dating someone my age." When your eyes met his, you made him feel like your positions were switched. So confident while he was almost throwing a tantrum. "What about you?" you asked. "Dating anyone your age?"

On that topic, Namjoon had more than enough women showing interest. And your father, for some reason, was dead set on finding him a wife. All those blind dates he had to escape from! He was simply not interested. He didn't want to admit it was because he was still thinking about you; that no one else would ever be a good replacement for you. He didn't want to because he didn't plan on coming back to you; he had to be the adult, the mature one, and stay away. It was the logical and the right thing to do. He didn't want to admit that, despite all of his intelligence and reason, he still thought about you... Because if he did this would no longer be just some attraction, just some fucking around. If he admitted it was more, what would happen then?

No... this was good. You had already moved on. Enjoying your life the way you were supposed to, a life he had no room to be in. All he had to do now was follow your example.

"Namjoon..."

That text was sent past 2 am on a rainy night in October. The only text he had gotten from you in months. That was all it said yet it made his stomach tight as if you had moaned his name in his ear. As if he knew exactly why you had texted him; needy in the middle of the night, that measly boy surely unable to satisfy you, knowing exactly who could help you at that moment. Fuck... Perhaps if he replied right then things would go back to how they were a year ago. He didn't. And you didn't text him again.

"Joon! You are staying for the holidays, right? You should spend Christmas with us." Your father was more than happy to share that day meant to be with family, with his best friend. Namjoon was like family anyway, wasn't he? When he tried to come up with an excuse, the other insisted. "See? If you were married now you would have someone to spend Christmas with, but you're not, so you'll come to spend it with our family. My daughter's coming home tomorrow, too. Ah. Could you pick her up 'cause–"

"No. I can't. Too busy."

The man laughed. "It's okay. But I am expecting you for dinner on Christmas!" he said with a pointing finger. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

And so there he was. Sitting right across from you at the table. In the months that had passed, you had gained some weight and he thought you had never looked better. Your face a little fuller, your jeans straining against your round thighs and hips, your breasts fitting your curves just right. The body of a grown woman. All Namjoon could think about was feeling you against him again. And he was mad again... Did your stupid boyfriend have the chance to fuck you like that? He didn't deserve you.

"You didn't bring that boy with you this time..." he commented.

"What, Eric?" your mother answered for you. "They broke up."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, eyes never leaving yours. "Really? How come?"

The corner of your lips turned upwards. "He was just... Too much of a kid."

He hated the way he sighed in relief, the way excitement bubbled in his stomach. He shouldn't be as happy to hear that as he was... He glanced at you again, your hair that had grown longer pushed back to expose your neck. It was getting harder and harder for Namjoon to keep his mind from wandering off to inappropriate things. Along with other parts getting hard.

And then your father spoke. "Joon. You know she's graduating next month, right?" His eyebrows shot up high on his forehead because no– no, he didn't know that. "She's looking for an internship and I thought–"

"Dad..."

"–you could help her get in your company? Maybe you could put in a good word for her?"

"Dad!" Your tone and the way your eyes widened towards your father's way betrayed the fact that the topic hadn't been new, and that you were clearly against the idea.

He looked at you until you finally turned back to face him. And surprising both himself and you, he said: "Yes, of course."

"I'm going to sleep," you announced after the dinner was over and you had helped clean up the table. You gave Namjoon a long glance before you disappeared down the hallway. Your parents had moved to the couch, TV on for some music and a game of cards keeping them busy when their friend asked to go to the bathroom. And you heard a soft knock on your door. "I'm assuming you know that's the wrong door you're knocking at," you spoke before you opened. Already in your sleeping outfit that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and just your panties.

"You knew it was me?" Namjoon whispered, eyes still stuck on your thighs.

"My parents don't knock."

You let him in, closing the door behind you and leaning on it as you looked up at him through your lashes. You both stayed silent for a moment, your breaths the only thing filling the empty, badly lit room. You noticed how he wet his plump lips and bit them while he was examining your face. So close you could smell his aroma, the one you never forgot.

“You don’t have to… you know,” you spoke, referring to your father’s idea. “I know you want to avoid me.”

Namjoon exhaled from his nose as if he was annoyed. “I- It’s not that I want to…”

“I know.” You gulped, finding your mouth wetting too much at the wish of kissing him, along with other parts getting wet. “You don’t want to— you have to.” You dared place your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling away, he leaned into your touch. Feeling his heart beat fast under your fingertips like the way he was breathing. He was slowly losing his mind but he knew he wasn’t the only one. “You don’t have to push me away,” you continued in a low tone. “I know what I’m doing. I’m the one coming to you.”

“Little one…” he rasped, and it had you catching a moan in the back of your throat. Oh, how you longed for his pet names, his voice calling to you lovingly. He stepped even closer. He knew he shouldn’t be there, he shouldn’t be doing this right now… But how could he stop? He wanted you so bad. His hands cupped your cheeks, lips just a breath away from yours, brushing against you as he whispered: “Come work with me… I wanna see you every day.”

The fabric of his shirt pooled in your palms as you grabbed him, closing the tiny gap between you. Both of you sighing in a mixture of relief and impatience as your lips crushed together. The softness only lasted a few seconds before you were moaning and Namjoon was pinning you on the door, deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue in like he was trying to devour you. Your arms wrapped around him while his hands traveled down your body, groping you like you were his stress relief toy. Your hips, your ass… He broke the kiss and buried his face in your neck.

“Ah- daddy,” you whined, grinding on him.

Namjoon felt like he was about to cry. “I missed you so much!” he choked out right before latching his teeth on your skin. Your naughty fingers were struggling to unzip his pants quickly and it made him chuckle instead of sob. “Fuck—” he growled. And he pulled back to stare at you with dark eyes. “Such a little slut, so desperate for my cock.” There he was; the Namjoon you knew so well. His words made you shiver.

“Please, daddy. I need you right now.”

He placed a hand on the door right next to your head, while he freed his dick with the other. “Your parents are right outside.”

Ignoring his words, you discarded your panties and took him in your hand, biting your lip. “I can’t wait any longer, need you to fuck me right now, plea-ase!” you whined a little too loud and Namjoon growled, grabbing your legs and lifting you until you straddled his waist, back on the door.

“Gosh, you’ll get daddy in big trouble, baby.” Tip of his cock brushing your wet folds, making your mouth drop. “They might come looking for me.”

“Quick,” you sobbed. “Be quick, please, just— ah!”

He slipped inside and you both gasped. Your legs were shaking at the feeling, eyes rolling back and a moan as quiet as you could manage rumbled through your neck. He got as deep as he could, face scrunching as if he was in pain. You kissed him.

“I’ve missed you, daddy. I’ve missed this so much.”

His head was spinning as he was trying to find the right words, the words that could describe exactly how he felt about you. “I- I-”

Laughter echoed through the house— your mother. You both froze. Namjoon glanced at the doorknob, and then he grabbed it; your parents could walk in at any moment. He didn’t stop though, nothing could stop him now. He angled his hips and started thrusting into you; fast and sloppy because the clock was ticking.

“Daddy…” you mewled, unable to do or say anything else.

Namjoon clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” he demanded. “You better not start screaming like the little whore you are, or they’ll hear us.”

His words had the opposite effect of what he wanted; making you moan harder. And the fact that he had his big hand over your mouth made you not care to keep quiet. Your choked whines along with the wet sounds of his dick slipping in and out of you could definitely be heard from the other side of the door, perhaps even from that couch your father was on had it not been for the music.

“Shit, you—” he growled. He finally dropped his hand from your mouth, wanting to grab your ass to lift you higher, fuck you better.

Your head fell on his shoulder before you decided to bite down on it to stop yourself from screaming as Namjoon’s thick dick drilled into you with no mercy. “So-o good…”

“Yeah?” He sounded out of breath already, yet cocky. “Did you forget what it’s like to have a real man fuck your pussy, baby? That little boy didn’t do shit, did he? He can’t fuck you as good as daddy, right?”

Your nails dug in his back and you felt your brain so rotten like he was about to fuck you to sleep. “I… don’t know…” you mumbled.

Namjoon stopped. He pulled his head slightly back but he couldn’t see your face. “What?” Your body squirmed, trying to chase that high he had just denied you. “What do you mean—”

“I don’t know what he was like,” you whined. “I only thought of you.”

Another laughter, loud voices coming from that couch. It didn’t scare him that much this time, his heart was already racing and he only gave that direction a glance before he was pulling your head back to look into your eyes. Only then did he notice the tear stains on your cheeks, and you sobbed, choked as he thrust into you again.

“I only thought of you, daddy…” you repeated with a whimper. And it had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, pumping into you a couple more times, hard, before he spilled his seed deep inside.

A whisper. “Fuck…” Panting and groaning as he was trying to come to, and you watching his glistening face as he grimaced and bit his lip. He let you down, resting his forehead on the door while he still struggled to collect himself, and you basked in the pride it gave you. You tucked him back in his underwear and zipped him up with a smirk on your lips, seeing how he finally started to be able to focus his eyes on you.

You opened the door slightly and peeked out; your parents were still playing cards on the couch, they didn’t notice you just like they probably hadn’t noticed how long Namjoon was gone for.

“You should go back,” you whispered as you came back into the room. Namjoon kissed you quickly like he was trying to catch you off guard. And then he grabbed your chin, staring down at you, breaths still coming out too hard.

“Don’t fall asleep, baby. I’ll come back to finish what I started when your father goes to bed.”

You smiled, pushing him slightly back yet he wasn’t budging. “Go…” you prompted as you started feeling his cum sipping out of your cunt and slowly running down your thighs.

Namjoon smiled too. “Really. I’ll eat you out till you pass out, baby, I promise.”

In the dark of the room and the rush of the moment, you decided you had no reason not to let your thoughts slip out. “I wish you could just come to sleep in my arms.”

He got a little serious. And he kissed you again, slower than before. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He left through that door, meeting your parents that were happy to see him yet didn’t even bother to point out his long absence. Sitting next to his best friend while his breathing was still shaky from fucking his daughter.

Shit… That girl will get him in so much trouble…

Masterlist

[prettyboypucey]

Weird ~ G.W.

Summary: George is gorgeous. Charlie is a meddler. The snow is cold. (this summary sucks...just read it) 

Pairing: George Weasley x Y/N 

Word Count: 2,404 (who do I think I am?) 

Warnings: mentions of bullying. mentions of food/eating. george is unknowingly triggering? reader cries. idk? let me know if i missed something. 

A/N: part 2? maybe? translations are for romanian via google translate. do not come for me if they are hella wrong. 

Translations: draga - darling; dragoste - love; tampit - stupid 

     I had never been normal. From the time I was a toddler I had stars in my eyes and dirt on my knees. While the other kids in my grade were playing with dolls and dressing respectably, I was riding imaginary dragons and wearing mismatched socks with dungarees and a butterfly headband. Normalcy evaded me even further when at 11 years old, I got a letter declaring me a witch.

     When I first came to Hogwarts I spent the majority of my time alone. It appeared that even children who could wave a stick around and makes things fly wanted nothing to do with the colorful little girl. Meeting Luna Lovegood in my second year was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Here was a girl who allowed me to be exactly who I was with no judgments. And then she introduced me to Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley, and suddenly that little girl who thought her only friends would always be the rocks she painted faces on, had found her people.

     Of course, being friends with Ginny Weasley meant knowing her many brothers. So after graduation when I went off to Romania to work with dragons it made me feel slightly better knowing Charlie Weasley would be there. He quickly took me under his wing and became the older brother figure I had never had. After working together for three years, and electing to stay at the sanctuary for the last two over the holidays, he had finally convinced me to come home with him. I was reluctant to leave the sanctuary - the one place I truly feel safe (despite the massive fire breathing creatures).

     Charlie had warned me that being with one or two of the Weasleys was very different from being with the entire Weasley clan. Obviously I knew Charlie and Ginny, Ron had always been nice to me, and I had met Molly a handful of times in passing. However, Bill was known to be quite intimidating, Percy was supposedly very no-nonsense, and the twins (albeit never cruel) had a reputation of being hell-raisers.

     Apparating to the edge of a marsh with Charlie by my side I could see the rising structure haphazardly balanced slightly ahead.

     Pausing, I glanced at the back of the familiar red covered head, “I don’t know Charles, maybe I should just go back. I really don’t want to be a burden.”

     Charlie very quickly rounded behind me to continue guiding me towards his home, “No, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not a burden to anyone draga. Keep your head up and if any of them give you grief - remind them of the giant, winged beasts you can feed them to.”

     Quickly placing a kiss to the side of my head Charlie bounded ahead again to open the door and announce your arrival. Before I could toe off the first boot to leave next to the dozen other pairs in the entryway, a pair of arms had flung around my neck.

     “Y/N! I missed you so much!”, Ginny pulled back, keeping her grip on my shoulders, to inspect for any major injuries.

     I held onto her elbows, keeping her close, “Hi Gin, I missed you too. A lot. I’m loving this new look by the way.”

     She reached up to brush the now short locks behind her ears. A grin on her face as the two of us looked the other over for the first time in months. Ginny was wrapped in a pretty baby pink sweater with shades of red and white running through it. The material was soft against my palm as I hooked it around her crooked elbow to follow her into the living area.

     “You know”, she started, “I was starting to think maybe Charlie had let you get eaten or burnt to a crisp in the land of dragons. It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me or left the sanctuary.”

     “I’m sorry Ginny. It’s just that after everything, I had to keep myself busy.”

     Ginny’s smile softened into one of understanding. The war had taken a part of all of us. Although Fred had recovered after many months, that fear of almost losing such a vital part of their family had rocked the entire Weasley family to its core.

     “I get it, I do, but I worry about you. I just want you to know you’re not alone Y/N.”

     I pulled the girl into another tight hug, “I know.”

     Ginny pulled away first, clearing her throat, “Okay! Now that’s out of the way - it’s time to introduce the one and only Y/N L/N to the Weasley’s.”

     I hummed, “Hmmm and which of us should be more scared?”

     “Oh definitely the Weasleys.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

     Meeting the Weasley family had gone much better than expected.

     Molly had opened her arms and home to me as if I was one of her own children. By the time the night was over she had me stuffed full of warm food and drink and donning my very own coveted Weasley sweater, the lavender initial in the middle marking it as my own. Arthur had been very interested in my muggle parents and upbringing, questioning me about the functions of a rubber duck. Bill and his wife Fleur were the most stunning couple I have ever seen, and not nearly as intimidating as people portrayed them. Fleur was pleased when she found out I spoke a bit of conversational French and promised to have me over to Shell Cottage (apparently they have an amazing collection of wind chimes that I am dying to see). Percy was a bit more refined. Completely polite and friendly but he seemed reserved. Ginny had explained in one of her letters how much guilt Percy carried after the Battle of Hogwarts over how he had behaved in the years leading up to that day.

     The twins were much different than I remembered them being from the few times we were around each other in school. The physical differences were clear - George’s missing ear and Fred’s dragging limp were both signs of the prices they paid in the war. More than that however, they had matured greatly. They were still happy and made sure to pull at least two pranks over the night, poor Molly nearly lost her voice after they blew up the turkey. However, there was something in their eyes that had been dimmed. Especially in George.

     His twin almost died that night, and it reflected in George’s eyes each time he looked at his older brother. It was clear that he was still afraid because whenever Fred left a room George followed, never letting his brother out of his sight, and if he happened to lose track of him a panic began to swirl in his brown orbs.

     I was in the middle of watching as George yet again made his way to Fred’s side, clapping a large hand on his twins shoulder and throwing his head back in laughter.

     “So which one are you staring at dragoste?”, Charlie whispered as he appeared out of nowhere.

     I ignored the burning in my cheeks as I looked away from the scene in front of me.

     “I am not staring at either of them tampit.”

     “Mhmm, sure, absolutely, I believe you.”, after a quick pause he said, “It’s George isn’t it?”

     I turned and scoffed at him, “No!… How did you know?”

     Charlie let out a chuckle, “Because I know you my little dragon. I also know my brother, and just between us, he definitely likes you as well.”

     At this I let out an incredulous laugh and glanced back to where George was now telling a story, his hands moving animatedly. There was no way that George Weasley had even a remote attraction to me. He was kind, strong, clever, and so bloody gorgeous it truly was a privilege to look at him. And I am…me. Nothing special. Just a girl who had more dragon friends than human ones and whose hands were covered in scars and callouses and whose socks never matched and had never even kissed a man before. So no, there was no way that George Weasley would ever like me.

     “Hey. I know that look Y/N. Stop those thoughts right this bloody second.”

     “Charles it really is annoying when you read me like that.”

     Throwing his arm over my shoulder he began to lead me towards the twins, “Yes I know and I am sorry in advance but this needs to be done. Fred!”

     Charlie’s voice had gone from a rushed whisper to a jovial shout when we reached George, Fred, and Ron by the fireplace. George’s smile as he turned to look at us sent a million butterflies off in my tummy.

     “So Freddy, I was hoping you could help me out with a top secret project tomorrow for mum and maybe show me around the joke shop. I heard you added some new displays that I want to check out.”

     “Sure Charlie”, Fred glanced at George as he spoke, “I’m sure we can make some time for our favorite brother.”

     Ignoring Rons protest, Charlie gripped my shoulders and pushed me in front of him, “Actually George I was thinking you could stay here and show Y/N around the area. She mentioned wanting to talk a walk tomorrow and I would hate to disappoint her on her first Christmas out of the sanctuary.”

     “Um-”

     I interrupted the rejection coming from George, “No please, I would hate to be a bother and make you be stuck with me all day. I’m sure Ginny can take me.”

     George smiled and shook his head, “No it’s completely fine Y/N. I would be happy to show you around.”

     “Okay great! It’s settled then!”, Charlie looked rather too pleased with himself and obviously missed the look exchanged by his identical younger brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~

     The next morning the Burrow was a flurry of movement as everyone began their day. Apparently Charlie and Fred weren’t the only ones on their way out. The others still had some last minute gift shopping to do and Ron was spending the day with Hermione’s muggle family. After breakfast, a quick wink from Charlie, and a slam of the front door - George and I were alone in the house.

     The two of us stood facing one another in the living room for a few awkward moments before George spoke, “Well, um, did you want to head out as well?”

     “Oh sure! Yes, let me just grab my boots really quickly.”

     George led me out the door and onto the snow covered path towards the small, iced over river. Nothing was said for a while, the only sound was the crunch of snow under our boots and the occasional sniffle from one of our red noses. I was mentally imagining all the ways I was going to kick Charlie’s ass when he got back for suggesting a walk in the middle of winter when we came to the top of a hill and stopped.

     Everything as far as the eye could see was blanketed in sheets of white. Stomping my boots down into the fresh snow, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the snow gave way underfoot. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I remembered that I wasn’t alone and turned to see George watching me with an unidentifiable look on his face.

     “Sorry, sorry. That was - I don’t know why I did that. I liked the feeling of the crunch of the snow I guess. Sorry.”

     George grinned, “You don’t have to apologize. It was cute.”

     I could feel my face flush at his words. His smile grew even wider at the sight of my heated face. My gaze dropped from his pretty face down to my boots. I could feel the thick socks I had on beginning to grow cold and wet from how long we’d been outside. Looking back up I could see George’s deep eyes glaze over. Assuming it was because he had been apart from Fred so long I glanced out at the view one last time before turning back the way we came.

     “We should probably get back. We’ve been gone a while and my toes are getting wet. I feel bad enough that Charlie forced you to do this anyways without you getting frostbite or something. I’ve had frostbite, it’s not fun. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry. Sorry”

     George was shaking his head at me and said, “You are so weird.”

     Ouch. My chest tightened and the small smile I had been wearing dropped from my face. If I had been able to see past the tears forming in my eyes that were making my sight blurry, I would have seen George’s face do the same. Unfortunately, all I could focus on was that word. Weird. Strange. Abnormal. Freak. 

     Weird weird weird.

     The walk back was silent. A thick tension surrounded you both as thick snow flurries began to swirl down in the midmorning air. Just as thick was the lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me. He’s just some guy. But deep down I also know that he’s not just some guy. This is George fricking Weasley. With his stupid perfect face and gorgeous eyes and his loyalty to his family. I couldn’t help but be enamored with him from the moment I walked in the Weasley’s front door. So it hurt to hear the man I liked call me that nasty word that has haunted me my entire life.

     When we finally reached the Burrow, George tried to reach for my arm but I pulled away and ran into the house. I could hear that some of the others had returned and really wanted to avoid a confrontation. Once again, luck wasn’t on my side. Charlie came walking out of the kitchen and saw me in the entryway. His face immediately became concerned at the sight of me and he lowered the sandwich he had from his mouth.

     “Draga?”, Charlie’s voice followed me as I finally reached the stairs and launched upstairs.

     As I reached the first landing I heard him speak again, his voice rough and hard.

     “What did you do?”  

[donutloverxo]

Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[rocorambles]

Surprise Interview

Pairing: Kenma x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Verbal Humiliation, Manipulation

Summary: Kenma sees if you have what it takes to be Bouncing Ball’s newest employee.

A/N: This is for @sugawara-sweetheart ‘s Decadence Collab. So excited to be a part of this collab and to be able to indulge in such a delicious prompt and theme. Be sure to check out everyone else’s works! As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora ~

There’s a familiar peace and a new nervousness about coming back home for the holidays. Mostly because home isn’t quite the same home it used to be. You can feel warmth blooming in your chest at the thought of seeing your mom, telling her about everything and everyone (as if your daily phone calls aren’t enough), and just lounging around while she fills you up with her cooking. But you can also feel a certain shyness as you approach the house, a building that still feels brand new and strange to you.

Your mother had gotten remarried during your earlier college years after your father’s passing and you were elated for her. If anyone deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s her. You had met Mr. Kozume quite a few times and you have no qualms with the man. He treats your mother like a queen and even though you playfully gag as they sweet talk and kiss in front of you, you wholeheartedly approve of their relationship.

However, what you aren’t quite as prepared for is having a new step-sibling.

You don’t know much about Kenma Kozume. Well, not much more than the rest of the world does.

Professional gamer. Successful stock trader. Popular YouTuber. Founder of his own corporation.

You know exactly who your new brother is, but other than seeing him a few times in person at family gatherings and exchanging polite greetings, there’s no real connection. Which is why your heart races as you nervously ring his doorbell, anxiety already making your leg twitch as you wait for the door to open.

Your mother and step-father are on a couple’s vacation and won’t be returning for a few days.

(“We just want some romantic time together before we have a full house again for the holidays. Plus this is a great chance to get to know your older brother better!” You hadn’t even been able to get a word of protest in before she had laughed and hung up on you, leaving you speechless and on your own as you hesitantly texted Kenma, letting him know what day to expect you.)

Kenma is quiet as ever as he nods in greeting, silently leading you to your guest room before quietly telling you to make yourself at home and leaving to do his own thing. You let out a huge sigh of relief as the door closes behind him.

There’s nothing wrong with Kenma. He’s smart and successful. Maybe a bit on the quiet side, but that only adds to his down to earth charm. You know your mother and step-father adore him and you can’t blame them. Yet, you can’t help but feel scrutinized, seen so clearly in a way that terrifies you when his feline eyes gaze at you. It takes everything in you not to immediately scurry away whenever you’re in viewing distance of him, desperate to hide all the flaws you imagine he’s noticing and calculating. Your step-father had mentioned how Kenma used to be the strategist of his high school volleyball team, and has always been able to evaluate and accurately break down situations and people. And you believe it.

You’re just grateful the house is large enough to avoid each other and that Kenma tends to reside mostly in his home office and bedroom.

But even the founder of a company needs a break from time to time. Kenma shuffles towards the gaming room, only to blink in surprise when he sees you already inside of it, happily smiling as Animal Crossing visuals and sounds fill the space.

He had known you owned a Nintendo Switch, a piece of information your mom had shared to break the ice a bit. And it’s really no surprise that this is your go-to game. But knowing and seeing are two different things and he can’t help but let his own lips twitch upwards at how calm and relaxed you are tending to your garden, decorating your home, choosing your outfit.

Kenma’s never been good with people, has never been the one to initiate a friendship. He knows he should have made more of an effort to be friendly and welcoming to you as your new older brother. There’s a slight pang of regret in his chest when he sees how at ease you are while you’re unaware of his presence. His eyes are as sharp as ever and he locks in on the way your body slightly stiffens, fingers nervously fidgeting when you finally notice his figure in the doorway, words already stuttering an apology for using his game room without explicitly asking.

You look like a scared mouse about to flee from the claws of a cat. And it pisses him off.

He hasn’t made the best efforts to bridge the gap between you, but for you to fear him? That seems a tad unnecessary, and more than a tad insulting. It’s more than enough to make the sadistic streak in him want to give you something to be scared about.

But he’s never been impulsive and he just quietly sits beside you on the floor, reassuring you it’s fine to play, smirking when you sneak little side glances his way as you continue collecting fruits.

“Kozume, do you want to play-”

“Just call me Kenma.”

Entranced eyes watch as you grow flustered at his words, mouth silently testing the weight of his given name in your mouth. For once, Kenma could care less about playing video games when a shaky timid “Kenma” slips past your soft lips.

“Kenma, do you want to play something together?”

You have no idea how badly he really does want to play together, but it’s a game you’re not ready for. So he calls upon any restraint he has to pluck your device from your hands and change the game to Mario Kart.

It’s amusing how easily you soften besides him, brow furrowing in concentration, eyes intently and eagerly following the screen, any anxiousness quickly forgotten as you get into the game. He greedily watches as you pout when you make a mistake, as your eyes light up every time you pass someone.

If he had known how easy it would be to make you warm up to him, he’d have done this sooner and he genuinely laughs when you whine and fake glare at him as he wins yet another round.

He asks about school. You ask about work. He tells you about his childhood. You share your own stories.

It’s a comfortable rhythmic back and forth and he’s afraid of ruining it, but a certain question nags at his mind, a question he knows may ruin the entire flow of the conversation.

“You’ll be graduating soon. Have you decided what you want to do after college?”

“Kenma not you too!!!”

His shoulders relax at how well you react to the question, smiling at the way you flop onto your back and groan about how mom and dad are already on your case about future plans.

“I’ve been applying to places, but who knows. Maybe I’ll just work for you at Bouncing Ball.”

There’s a playful lilt in your voice when you say it, a giggle and teasing smile accompanying the words. But there’s nothing funny about it to Kenma and your smile falters a bit when you see how tightly Kenma’s gripping his controller, the way his eyes pin you down.

“Kenma? It’s just a joke. I would never take advantage of-”

You try to get up from your reclined position, only to whimper in confusion when Kenma’s hand on your shoulder forces you back down. And suddenly you’re pinned down by more than just his stare as he moves to straddle you, knees on either side of your body, hands next to your head, his whole body caging yours.

It’s a lighthearted joke in the family that if all else fails, you could always work at Bouncing Ball. A joke your step-father and mother always dish out when the arguments get too tense as the three of you talk about your future. But it’s become less in jest for Kenma, especially after Kuroo sent him a scandalous picture of his newest secretary kneeling between his long legs, lips wrapped around his cock.

It wasn’t the first picture, nor was it the last incriminating photo the older businessman had sent him. Kenma merely rolled his eyes before deleting the image from his phone, wondering when Kuroo would grow bored and find a new toy to play with. But he freezes when he sees the following text message from his long-time friend.

“You’re the CEO of a company, Kenma. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone convenient around? A pretty warm body? I bet that cute new step sister of yours would look really good under your desk. Doesn’t she graduate from college soon? If you don’t make a move, maybe I’ll snatch her up right from under your nose. I’m due for a change of secretary soon.”

There’s absolutely no reason for the hot anger that lances through him at Kuroo’s taunting words and he grimaces at playing right into his ex-captain’s hands, already hearing Kuroo’s braying laughter in his head if the older man saw just how much his words affected him.

But initial irritation aside, he lets himself really think, really imagine what a life with you at his beck and call would be like. And he likes what he sees. He doesn’t delete Kuroo’s photos as quickly as he used to, replacing the female faces with yours in his imagination as his hands slip under the hem of his boxers.

He knows it’s a longshot, knows there’s a high chance you’ll continue your lives as is, never destined to exchange more than a few polite greetings at family outings. But now...now hearing you voice the idea out loud yourself, hearing the way his first name sounds from your lips…

Maybe it’s not the silly pipe dream he had believed it to be.

“I’m in need of an assistant if you really do want to work at Bouncing Ball, but you’d need to prove why it would be worth hiring you.”

He almost laughs at how you perk up despite the precarious position you’re in, almost ready to launch into an elevator pitch of your qualifications flat on your back underneath him. You’re quite the multitasker already and he groans at the thought of having you cockwarm him while he tests out a new video game, making you answer all his calls stuffed full of him and desperately trying to hide the lustful tremble in your voice.

But he’s not here to listen to your carefully crafted speech. (Guess you really were practicing for job interviews like you said you were. What a good girl.) And he firmly presses his lips against yours to silence you, taking his time to immerse himself in the way your mouths mold against each other.

Your taste, your smell, your warmth. It’s all intoxicating and he slips his tongue inside your parted lips, subtly rutting his groin against your body. He can feel your body jostle as you lift your arms and he waits for the weight of your arms to lovingly wrap around his neck, only to be shocked when you weakly press against his shoulders until he finally relents and pulls back just enough to look down at you in irritated confusion.

“We- we shouldn’t be doing this.”

It’s not the words that have him clenching his fists, not even the way your palms still timidly press against him in a laughably weak show of defense.

It’s the fear in your eyes, the way you look at him like he’s some monster. It's the way he can almost palpably feel and hear your desire to be anywhere other than here, with anyone other than him, wishing to put as much space between the two of you as possible.

It’s your rejection.

It hurts to know that he isn’t enough just as he is, that he needs to resort to less...savory and straightforward ways to entrap you. But he’s not Hinata or Kuroo. He doesn’t have an electrifying personality or roguishly handsome features and charm to woo you. He only has his cunning and sharp tongue.

And he fully intends on maximizing his gifts.

“Of course, you don’t have to. You can just keep on applying and getting rejected by every company you speak to, if they even bother meeting with you after seeing your pathetic resume. Average college. Average grades. Average major. Tell me, how many interviews have you actually been reached out to for?”

He’s going out on a bit of a limb, but his suspicions are right and he cruelly smirks at the way tears bubble in your eyes at his words, no comeback or denial rolling off the tip of your tongue. He had a feeling you were struggling from the bits and pieces he’s picked up as your parents quietly talk and fret over you actually being able to find a job after graduation.

“Our parents are too nice to say anything about it, but you know they’re disappointed in you, right? Have you noticed how they always avoid talking about how school is going or asking you about how job hunting is going? How they only ask me how work is going? It’s because they know you’re just a loser whose life is going to amount to nothing.”

“That’s not true! They love me-”

“I’m not saying they don’t love you, but doesn’t that make it even worse? Making your loving and caring parents worry and stress over you when they should be preparing for retirement, an easy life? Instead of letting them finally enjoy a carefree life, you’ll be their freeloader daughter who uses up all their remaining funds. Is that what you want?”

You really are too easy and his lips curl in satisfaction at the way you frantically shake your head side to side, fat wet drops streaming down your face, adorable sniffles filling the air.

“If you become my assistant, I’ll compensate you well. You can live here with me, have your own room, a roof over your head, all the food and clothing you need and want. Think about how relieved and happy our parents will be seeing you provided for, seeing us getting along. Isn’t that what you want? For them to be happy?”

He knows how close you are to your mom, how important this idea of a perfect family is to you. He knows how insecurity and doubt about your own capabilities torment you. And he knows you’re hooked on his claws when your hands that are still pressed against his shoulders drop limply besides you, not even a hint of resistance left in you when he leans down once more to rest his forehead on yours, one hand cupping the side of your face.

“This is all you’re good for anyway. Working underneath me.”

If you notice his pun, you don’t acknowledge it, too busy wincing and squirming as he harshly nips and bites a trail from your lips to your neck as he pushes up the hem of your shirt until your chest is on full display for him. There’s something experimental, cold, meticulous about the way he gropes and fondles your breasts.Your face heats in humiliation at how he treats you like one of the many game consoles he’s reviewed for his audience.

But you don’t do anything about it, telling yourself that this is just his version of an interview as he pinches and prods at you, meanly twisting your nipples and chuckling at your yelp of pain. You obediently let him spread your legs apart, only letting out an agonized cry as he tests your flexibility, staring at him with a trembling lower lip as he sharply tells you to shut up while scrutinizing your panty-covered sex.

“You really are made for this, aren’t you?”

You whimper as he nudges the small wet spot on the thin fabric, clenching your eyes shut in denial at how hot and wound up your body feels from his touch, unable to hide your gasp as he pulls the layer aside and rubs your aroused clit.

There’s something so different about the way his fingers slowly sink into your wet pussy, almost lazily curling against your soft walls, his thumb never stopping its careful massage on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. So different from your own fingers desperately thrusting in and out of you. So different from the drunk partners you’ve hooked up with at college and their sloppy, rapid, frantic movements.

You can feel something large, something intimidating slowly rising from deep inside of you, a volcano about to erupt compared to the bright and fast to fade shooting stars you’re used to. You’re scared. Scared of the intoxicating feeling, of how easy it is to grow accustomed to Kenma’s presence, of how his cat-like eyes are all you can see and think of.

How can something feel so wrong and so right at the same time?

That’s the last coherent thought you have before your world goes blank, pleasure rocking through you as you soak the carpet and your step-brother’s hand with your juices. You’re moaning as Kenma continues to rock his fingers in and out of you, fingertips insistently massaging your clit and g-spot as you ride out your orgasm, body trembling and convulsing.

But even when the tremors slow, when pleasure becomes something sharper, more overwhelming, he doesn’t stop. You wail, begging him to stop, to let you rest, slumping in relief when he finally drags his hands away from you, carelessly wiping the mess you’ve made of his hand on your skin, covering you in your own essence.

Your heavy eyelids threaten to flutter shut as you let exhaustion wash over you, already dreading having to get up and wash yourself. But you’re shocked back to reality as something hard begins to nudge at your still fluttering entrance.

“Kenma! No! Too much-”

You break off into a sob as surprisingly strong hands dig into your hips, holding you still as he pushes and pushes until he’s fully settled inside of you, balls resting against your ass.

You’re still so tight, your quivering walls clamping around the intrusion, and he groans at the thought of being able to sink into this hole every day, multiple times, whenever he wants. His cock is already aching from holding off for so long, from watching your body and face contorted in pleasure. Kenma can feel his end quickly approaching as you scream and wail underneath him, eyes rolling back in your head, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth. You look absolutely obscene and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this side of you.

But despite the way his balls are tightening, despite the stutter in his hips, he’s determined to watch you fall apart once more, to see you shatter to pieces yet again. He grits his teeth, fingers reaching down to furiously rub at your already oversensitized clit, reveling in how your back arches, thighs shaking in overstimulation, and then you snap.

He wonders what his parents would think of their dear dumb daughter now, looking nothing like their silly angel, looking like a wanton used whore, incoherent garbled noises slipping past your lips as you twitch uncontrollably, your pussy milking him dry as he cums inside of you.

There’s only silence mixed with your pitiful whimpers as he slides out of you, grimacing at the sticky mess you’ve made of yourself and him. But that’s what your other hole is for and he orders you to suck him clean, admiring what a quick learner you are, eager to please as you noisily slurp and lick him clean, moaning at the taste of your combined fluids...

Maybe too eager and he shoves you off of him when you become too enthusiastic, his cock beginning to twitch in interest once more.

You look so lost, still sprawled out on the ground, staring up at him with wide imploring eyes as he pulls up his pants. So vulnerable and in need of guidance.

Good thing you have such a great boss to manage you.

“Not bad. Consider these next few days your internship and if all goes well, I’ll be more than happy to hire you as Bouncing Ball’s newest employee this summer. Now clean up this room and show me that my future assistant can do more than just be a slut.”

[tetsuuji]

Pairing: Childe x gn!Reader

Style: Scenario; Fluff

Word Count: 838

Tags: Modern AU, college AU, mutual pinning?

Warnings: Not really a warning, but bold italics are your inner thoughts.

Notes: Hello, @oakkii sweetie! I am pleased to tell you I'm your Secret Santa and I genuinely hope you will enjoy this little scenario I got for you. 💕 Childe really lives in my head rent free and I would have sent an ask beforehand to ask if you are okay with modern/college au, but I was so busy with work, and life, and all of the preparations I had. Nonetheless, have great holidays ahead of you and happy New Year! (Also thanks to @favoniuscodex for letting me be a part of this event. It was a fun experience for sure.)

There is no way he likes me back. Those eight words ran through your mind each time your eyes locked onto Childe’s figure. And you hated it; you hated the feeling his presence brought. The way his smile made you feel like your stomach is twisting, making you look away and move on. In your head, you did not exist in his world that way. All you were to him was a studying partner and nothing more.

Because how could the most popular student share that same interest you did?

He was always surrounded by people; it did not matter if their interest was genuine or not. Everyone wanted to be his acquaintance – his friend even – just to be on his good side. Why would anyone want to be in a rivalry with someone so powerful on your campus anyway? Childe had the capability of destroying anyone’s social life with a snap of his fingers. He was aware of that power, jousting the individuals who tried to test them.

That was why you accepted the offer to help him with assignments without questioning it twice. Even if you did not want it in the beginning. You paid no attention to his status whatsoever. To you, he was just another bighead looking for trouble, letting the popularity sneak into his head and make him “the king of campus”. But the more time you spent with him, the more you realized he was not so bad. The charm he possessed only helped in that way, and he used it as his own weapon when needed. He was an intelligent man, with his ambitions set so high, with little to no care about who was standing in his way.

And you started to like him. Archons, did you start to like him.

You would be lying if you said his appearance paid nothing to that realization. Childe was good-looking; there was no point in denying that, but the way his personality switched with you swooned you off your feet. His serious tone when discussing the problems or brainstorming the possibilities. The ability to hold a serious conversation for as long as needed. The way he bit into a pen when focusing too hard. Or just smiling at your awful remarks.

Childe was everything you wanted in a person when you shared those moments together. And more.

“What’s going through that pretty head?” The grinning voice snapped you out of your daydreaming and your eyes met with Childe’s oceans. He was too close to you, way too close. You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, shivers starting to run down your spine and you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat before he noticed you were losing your composure.

“None of your business,” you frowned, wrapping your arms around the stack of notebooks tighter. “Why are you even here? Our studying session is tomorrow.” Why am I so stupid? He approached you on his own. You should be thrilled that he ignored everyone else just to ask you something so trivial. But why even ask that after all? Not like he should care. Not like he did care.

“You are cute when frowning, comrade.” His sly chuckle wrapped around your ears, while your lips parted on a gentle flick up your forehead. The same shivers ran up your spine once again, more intensely than the first time. Childe was never physical with you. That he left you buried in a spot was an understatement. You were flabbergasted. And you did not know what to say like every cell left your body at that moment.

There was no way he liked you back – except there was. Because Childe was head over heels for you.

Maybe it was pride that did not let him confess. Maybe it was the fact that he never felt that kind of attraction towards anyone else. Maybe it was because you never showed the same interest in him. Whatever the reason was, he decided it was better to leave the thoughts about you brewing behind and let time do its magic. What if you played hard to get? He could play that game. He was playing that game. It boiled him up and there was no harm if he tried and made you his, right?

In the end, he wanted to show your secretive self to the world. By his side. With his fingers laced around yours. But you were so out of his reach he had to do something.

Even if you did not feel the same as him.

“I thought of taking you to lunch, so we can go through plans for the next class presentation.” Childe tilted his head to the side, almost like he was studying your confused expression. But he could not read anything. And you did not let him, although you screamed inside. Yet, he wrote it off as another studying session. You really did not want to get your hopes up.

“And I don’t take no as an answer.”

[hongcherry]

a white christmas || pjm (m)

"The present your Secret Santa got you isn't very safe for work."

🎄 Pairing: CEO!Jimin x Secretary!Reader(f)

🎄 Rating/Genres: M(18+); Smut, light fluff, ceo au, office romance au

🎄 Word Count: 5.4k

🎄 Warnings: Use of a sex toy in public, dirty talk, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (it's fictional so be safe irl plz <3), multiple orgasms, cum swallowing, soft dom jm, one spank heh, brief thumb sucking lol, ceo jm being sexy as hell im js, rip oc clothes

🎄 Project: Part of the 12 Days of BTS event

Prompt: A kinky Secret Santa gift exchange + Aftercare

🎄 Beta: @kookthief + @jimilter // You guys are amazing D:< Thank you so much for beta’ing this. I appreciate the effort you both took in helping me. I'm sending you both big virtual hugs!

🎄 Author’s Note: This is a lot longer than I planned D: I just got too carried away haha.

12 Days of BTS masterpost | main masterlist

The steps to your cubicle were bouncier than usual. Today was the day you’d discover who your Secret Santa was. You were excited to see who it was and what they had gifted you. You had always been a Christmas girl. You loved the holiday cheer and the pretty lights around the city. It made you feel warm and fuzzy despite the chilly winter weather.

Two weeks ago, the company had decided to host a Secret Santa gift exchange. The event had not been active in the past few years, but management decided it would be a great way to lift everyone’s holiday spirits. It wasn’t just limited to each department; meaning, you could be gifting a present to anyone in the building. Thankfully, you had received your giftee’s wish list so even if you didn’t know the person, you could still get them something they would like.

Being the secretary of the CEO had its perks. Park Jimin, albeit young to be a CEO, had been successful ever since he obtained the title four years ago. The former CEO and founder, Kim Namjoon, had gladly bestowed the role upon Jimin after seeing his work and leadership skills for years. You had been Namjoon’s secretary and were thankful Jimin kept you in the same position when he climbed the corporate ladder. Apparently, Namjoon had complimented your work ethic to Jimin and had insisted he keep you. You were sad to see Namjoon step down but happy he was finally living his dream—to travel across countries.

You were giddy even before sitting down. An email had been sent out yesterday that everyone would be getting their gift today, however, it didn’t entail exactly when you’d be getting it. The anticipation was eating you up and you’d only been here for twenty minutes. You weren’t sure how you were going to focus on your work today. You checked Jimin’s schedule, pleased to see he had a busy day today which meant you didn’t have to worry about him assigning you a new task.

As you expected, you barely did anything. The minutes must have been passing every 100 seconds rather than every 60. The day was going by at an agonizing pace. By the time it was nearing the end of your shift, you started to wonder if the company had forgotten about the gift exchange.

You absentmindedly scrolled through your list of unread emails, guilt nipping at your emotions when you realized you didn’t do any work today. Sighing, you clicked on an email that stated it was highly important. However, the faint sound of bells jingling had your slouched body straightened and your ears perked up.

“Ho, ho, ho,” a deep voice bellowed. People in the cubicle around you stood up, overlooking the short walls to see who had arrived.

Walking into the area was Santa Claus. A much skinnier Santa, but Santa nonetheless. The man had on a fake beard with a lopsided Santa hat. His sleigh was made up of a 2-tier cart that was decorated in tinsel and bells. You were pretty sure you saw a similar cart in the storage room the other day.

“We hope you’ve all been good because those on the naughty list won’t be getting anything,” Santa announced. Four other people dressed in elf costumes came from behind Santa and began grabbing presents from the cart.

Although the act was corny, it still had your lips quirking up. It was cute and they were really trying. You had to give them some props.

You sat anxiously as you watched your coworkers being given gifts of various shapes and sizes. After three more were distributed, Santa waltzed over to you with one in hand. He briefly checked the top of the gift before presenting it to you.

“Ms. Yn,” he said with a smile.

“Thank you,” you replied as you took the gift from him.

Two more gifts were delivered before Santa and his elves began to depart.

“Happy holidays, everyone! Stay safe! See you next year!” Santa waved goodbye before hopping on his modern-day reindeer—also known as an elevator—to continue his journey.

The present you were handed was simple. The medium-sized box was wrapped in penguin-themed wrapping paper, perfectly placed ribbon and bow over the wrapping. Tucked under one of the ribbons was a small notecard with your name in cursive. The eagerness buzzing in your body caused you to rip open the box. Maybe you were acting more ravenous than the average person opening a present, but the built-up anticipation was too much. You had enough time guessing what your Secret Santa had given you all day. Perhaps it was the fuzzy blanket on your list, or maybe the travel tripod? You were secretly wishing for the latter, but you would gladly accept either.

Both your guesses were wrong.

Laid inside the box was something pink and shaped funny. One end was bigger than the other and it curled almost in the shape of a “C.” There was also a small tube of something nestled in the side.

You squinted at it and leaned in closer to examine the pink object. You had an idea what it was, but surely that wasn’t it, so what was it?

Your eyes glided to the card laid in the box. It had your name written in cursive on one side and a message on the other.

I hope you put this to good use and meet me in forty-five.

W-what?

Your eyes grew at the realization that your initial guess was correct. Swiftly, you turned the small tube over to see what it was. Your heart began to hammer when you saw it was lube.

Your hands flew over the box, trying to hide the contents as you quickly glanced around. Even though no one could see you in your cubicle, you still felt exposed. It dawned on you then that you still didn’t know who your Secret Santa was. They were supposed to reveal themselves with the gift.

Did your Secret Santa really just give you a vibrator?

Thought it wasn’t any kind of vibrator. You recalled these kinds of vibrators could be used through Bluetooth and be controlled by someone from a distance away.

The thought astonished you and for a moment you forgot what the note had stated. How would you know where to meet them? You debated on if you wanted to follow through with the message. Was this person expecting you to use it now at work or at home tonight? Since they expected to meet you soon, you figured they meant now.

That made you nervous, yet excited. Were they planning to test it when you met them? Perhaps they wanted you ready so when you visited them, the vibrator was already set in place. The idea of you getting off in public had always made your heart race.

You were to meet this person soon and you already wasted ten minutes freaking out over the gift. With shaky hands, you grabbed and stuffed it in the bag you had brought with you before heading to the restroom. After hastily cleaning the object, you hurried into one of the stalls.

Just the thought of doing something so risky had already caused you to feel wet. You spent a few minutes circling your clit as you attempted to arouse yourself more so you were able to use the vibrator easier. Remembering the lube, you retrieved it from the bag.

You were able to slip the vibrator inside with ease. You bit your lower lip as you suppressed a moan at the feeling. Unsure how to turn it on, you began pressing the buttons on the top. Nothing happened.

You wondered if you needed to do anything else until vibrations emitted from between your legs. Your knees buckled at the abrupt feeling, a gasp leaving your mouth as you reached out to steady yourself.

The vibrations came to a halt not even ten seconds later. The sudden loss allowed you to catch your breath. You waited for the vibrations to begin again, but it didn’t. You frowned at that. You missed the feeling it gave you and you needily rubbed your legs together to try to get some friction.

At the sound of the bathroom door opening, you composed yourself in a hurry. You flushed the toilet to pretend you had used it before washing your hands and leaving the restroom. You clutched onto your bag as you made your way back to your cubicle. You forced yourself to calm your breathing. Just as you entered your cubicle, the vibrations started again.

You couldn’t stop the cry that fell from your lips as you stumbled into your chair, needing to sit down before you stumbled onto the floor. However, you almost fell out of your chair when you saw your cubicle neighbor peek their head over the short wall.

“Was that you?” the man, Jungkook, asked. “Are you okay?”

You could feel the back of your neck beginning to sweat at the thought of being caught. You instantly pressed your knees together as you tucked yourself under your desk. You were hoping your actions were subtle, but you doubted it. Jungkook eyed you skeptically, slight worry still dancing in his dark eyes.

The vibrations unexpectedly increased in their tempo. Your legs squeezed tighter together and your eyes widened, glancing anywhere but Jungkook’s face.

“I-I’m fine. Lightheaded,” you stuttered, not caring that your sentence was choppy. You just hoped he would understand and leave you alone.

“Okay,” he said slowly. His eyes narrowed at your body. Your chest was rising and falling faster as the seconds passed. “Do you want some water?”

You were about to tell him to ignore you when the vibrations rolled to a stop. You didn’t realize how tightly you were gripping your desk until your body relaxed from the ministrations.

“Got some ready, but thank you,” you replied with a shaky breath while you pointed to your water bottle. Jungkook’s gaze flickered to the object before nodding.

“Just let me know if you need anything,” he responded and hesitantly retreated into his cubicle.

“Thank y—ou—” You began to say, the last part of your sentence raising an octave when you felt your legs tremble.

You caught another worried look from Jungkook before he completely disappeared from your view. Oh fuck.

You glanced down at your lap; you tried your hardest not to squirm so much in your seat, but it was difficult. The vibrations were changing in speed and rhythm. If you stayed here, Jungkook or someone else was going to catch you. You were doing a horrible job at staying quiet.

You thought about going back to the bathroom, but you weren’t sure if you could walk with the vibrations. Your body felt weak and you were nearing the edge. It had been building and you were sure you were going to come at your desk if you didn’t make it to the bathroom. As if the device read your mind, the vibrations became more bearable—a simple humming rather than intense vibrations.

As you were gathering your strength to make a beeline to the restroom, your phone rang on your desk. The noise startled you and you hastily picked up the receiver.

“H-hello?” you greeted meekly; your breath uneven.

“Hi, Yn,” a familiar voice sounded from the other end. It was Jimin. You could’ve sworn you heard a hint of a smile from his tone, but you didn’t know the reason for it.

“Can I help you, Mr. Park?” you questioned, hoping he would hurry with his call. You had more pressing matters at hand at the moment. It was then you recalled you were supposed to meet your Secret Santa any minute. Where though? You still didn’t know.

“Actually, you can. Please come to my office. I need to discuss something with you,” he replied, voice light yet commanding. He was your boss and you had no excuse as to why you couldn’t meet him. You were just wishing it would be quick and he wouldn’t ask you what you did today.

The vibrations had come to a stop, causing you to let out a small sigh in relief. You didn’t want to explain why it smelt like sex if you had an orgasm in your seat. The simple thought had your face flushing.

“Be there soon,” you said before hanging up the call.

The walk to Jimin’s office wasn’t too long, but it definitely was a struggle with your wobbly legs. Perhaps he just wanted to discuss the agenda for after the holidays. You hadn’t seen him all day, so you were sure he had a list of tasks for you to complete.

Jimin greeted you with a smile and gestured for you to come in. He was dressed in slacks and a white button-up, tie loosened around his neck. His beauty was even better in person. It always amazed you that he was real. Someone with that face was not some CGI-created person. No, Park Jimin was real.

His office was big, but not massive, with wall-high windows overlooking the city. You had been in his office multiple times, but rarely at night. You hadn’t had the chance to see the view with the holiday lights. The lights in his office were dimmed, making the decorations easily viewable.

The sun had set, leaving the outside to be lit by the Christmas lights hanging around the area. It was beautiful and you found yourself walking closer to the window as if bewitched by the sight. The feeling between your legs was still present but subsided as the minutes passed.

“What do you like the most?” Jimin asked behind you, startling you from your daze.

You glanced behind you, confused. From your expression, he explained his question.

“What catches your attention when you look out there? For me, it’s the people. Seeing so many faces I don’t know makes me realize there’s so much out there I haven’t discovered yet. I may never discover it all,” he said, though his eyes never left yours. Maybe he was so used to seeing it, he didn’t need to look to be reminded.

His answer was melancholic. He sounded lonely, which was odd since he was always around other people. Though, you could still be in a crowd of people and still feel lost.

You peered back to look out the window.

“The lights. A lame answer,” you laughed awkwardly. “I think it’s cool to see how they enhance the city. You don’t even need the street lights this time of year. The other lights will light the way.”

Jimin hummed and you suddenly felt his presence closer.

“I don’t think it’s lame. I like the lights, too,” he said. You lifted your gaze to see his reflection in the window. He appeared at ease, yet tired. You were sure the constant meetings had drained his energy today.

The silence that loomed over the both of you had a thought pop in your head. Was it a coincidence he called you right when you were supposed to meet your Secret Santa? No, that couldn’t be possible. But you recalled how anyone could participate and that it was an event across departments. Your heart pounded at the idea of him being the cause of your shaky legs.

Despite this, you forced the question from your mouth.

“A-are you my Secret Santa?” you asked anxiously, still staring at his reflection rather than turning to face him—the real him. You weren’t sure if you could look him directly in the eyes right now.

Jimin gave you a soft, teasing smile as he retrieved something from his pocket. It looked like his phone, but you couldn’t really analyze it before you were sucking in a breath and reaching out to place a hand on the chilled window. Your legs trembled at the unexpected vibrations.

“Do you like your gift?” he questioned, thumb sliding against his phone. The vibrations lessened. They weren’t as powerful as before but you could still feel them.

“W-why did you get it for me?” you stuttered as you tried to focus on his words rather than what was between your legs.

“Because I like you,” he replied. The casual tone of his voice made you tilt your head in confusion.

“Would you have given whoever you picked this gift, too?” you questioned. The thought had occurred to you when he revealed himself. Perhaps he was just looking for a quick hookup, which wasn’t the problem. It was just that he was the CEO and you didn’t know what his real intentions were.

Jimin frowned at that and stopped the vibrations; the mood swiftly turned serious.

“No, I wouldn’t have,” he said. “I wouldn’t abuse my power like that. I got it for you because well,” he started and glanced away.

You watched in fascination as his cheeks became rosy. Was Park Jimin blushing?

“I thought you liked me too,” he finished. You thought about all the alone times you had with Jimin in the past. They started as formal, slowly transiting in exchanges more friendly. You had both given each other enough flirty comments that any third party would raise an eyebrow at. Even though you had denied your feelings for him—he was your boss after all!—you had always wondered how things would be if you weren’t his secretary. If you had been a random woman in the grocery store who had accidentally spilled her carton of milk on a handsome man in a suit.

“I-I do,” you confessed. Jimin’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile. “But I never thought you felt the same or would even act on it. I wasn’t expecting you to have been my Secret Santa—which I’m not complaining about because, wow, your gift feels really good, but I—oh gosh, I’m rambling.”

Jimin laughed at your run-on sentences and took a step forward, grabbing your hips in his warm hands.

“So, you do like your gift?” His eyes flickered down to your crotch which was covered by your skirt with a sly grin.

“Yes,” you answered quietly and swallowed harshly. Your body shifted in anticipation of what he was going to do.

“Would you like to test it out more?” he suggested, hands massaging your sides as he waited for your approval.

As soon as you nodded your head, he twirled you around and brought his lips upon yours. The kiss was quick and heated from the start. Neither of you wasted any time as you both slid your tongues against each other.

He pulled away, eyes shining in the dim-light room. He tugged you from the window to the couch in his office. When he nudged your legs open, you complied. Your feet rested on either side of you as you spread your legs. Jimin stared down at you with a wide grin. He sat down on a chair nearby and pulled out the device again. That was definitely his phone.

“Did you come yet, angel?” he questioned as he started the vibrations. It was just a subtle humming, but you knew that would only be the beginning.

“No. You called before I could,” you said, hands gripping the couch when he increased the speed.

“What a shame,” he murmured but he didn’t sound apologetic. Jimin watched with focused eyes as he slid his thumb multiple times. He had changed the tempo and the rhythm at which the vibrations occurred. They were faster and went at a steady beat.

Your legs trembled at the feeling and your toes curled at the stimulation.

“Let me see you,” Jimin said as he relaxed back into his chair, one leg resting over the other. He looked so laid-back that you could feel your body burning. There was just something about how he was watching you squirm in front of him, knowing he was the cause of your wobbling legs.

You hooked your fingers under your panties and slid them off before resuming your position. Jimin hummed in approval, a small smirk donning his plump lips at being able to see you bare. The hungry look in his eyes had you whining. Your hands came up and gripped your breasts.

The vibrations became more sporadic and the speed accelerated. Your earlier denied orgasm returned, approaching fast. You threw your head back as you squeezed your breasts, massaging them harshly as you rocked your hips in the air.

“Jimin,” you whined. You wanted to feel his lips against your cunt. You wanted to feel his tongue glide between your wet folds. You wanted to hear his sinful moans as you pulled on his hair. Though none of those things occurred. He simply sat in his chair as he watched you intently.

“I know,” he murmured and changed the settings. It had you jerking in your seat, closing your legs at the pressure building in your stomach. “I want you to come first then you can have me.”

You didn’t realize Jimin had stood up until you felt a set of hands prying your legs open. One of his hands rested on your cheek, rubbing your cheek fondly. The tenderness contrasting with the vibrations had your heart twisting.

Jimin leaned down, pressing his lips against yours briefly before pulling away. The whimper from your lips made him smile.

“You can do it, baby. Come for me. Don’t you want me?” he coaxed, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your pouting lips.

Your lips parted and Jimin slid his thumb in your mouth. You nodded and hummed against his digit, sucking on it as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to unravel.

Jimin licked his lower lip at the sight of your writhing body beneath him. You came, moaning against his thumb. Your legs quivered at the impact it had on your body. He retracted his thumb from your lips and peered down between your legs.

“Good job,” he cooed and gave one of your thighs a brief message.

He reached down and slowly pulled out the vibrator, causing you to gasp and cry at the empty sensation. He set the device next to you before pulling your body up into his. The sudden movement came as a surprise and you gripped his shirt tightly. He guided you back to the window and turned you to face the glass panels.

The lights were still vibrant as ever and people were scattered along the sidewalk like before. Cars passed as they sped to their destinations. No one was looking up at you, but even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to spot you easily since Jimin’s office lights weren’t fully on.

“Gonna have to do that again, yeah? Maybe at the next staff meeting,” he chuckled darkly. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” you said a little too quickly.

Jimin laughed at your eagerness and trailed his hands up your buttoned shirt. Before you could protest, Jimin gripped it and ripped it open along the middle. The act had the buttons flying off somewhere in the room. Your hands immediately grabbed his wrists to stop him from ruining it more.

“You did not—”

“I’ll buy you another one,” he reassured.

He gave you a teasing weak before pulling down your bra to expose your breasts. You tightened your hold on his wrists, but he ignored it.

“You’re beautiful,” he said and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you huffed. Jimin smiled against your cheek and gave your breasts a gentle squeeze.

“I like you, too,” he replied before pressing you against the glass.

You inhaled a sharp breath when the cooled glass met your body. Despite the coldness, it felt nice against your warm skin. Your hands rested against the window as your breasts were squished against the glass.

You heard Jimin shuffling behind you. You pulled your skirt up to expose your pussy to him again. You wiggled your ass playfully, becoming impatient as the seconds passed.

Jimin chuckled at you, slapped your ass, then rubbed the tip of his cock against your already-wet folds. The sensation had you halting your movements; your heart racing. Jimin leaned forward to press another kiss to the back of your head before slowly pushing inside.

You both moaned in unison at the feeling. He was thicker than what you had experienced before. You gasped at the stretch but didn’t stop him. The pain soon melted away into pure pleasure.

After he bottomed out, Jimin waited a few seconds for you to adjust, hands rubbing your hips. When you started squirming, he began to thrust into you. Since your palms were pressed against the window, you had nothing to hold onto. Your body kept sliding up with each snap of Jimin’s hips. It felt so good to have him sliding against your walls.

“Are you wishing someone was looking at us?” Jimin whispered in your ear. He flattened his body against yours, keeping you firmly against the window as he stilled his movements.

You peered down below you. You hated how you felt a hint of disappointment when you saw no one had noticed you.

Jimin watched your face closely, a smirk forming on his lips when he saw your expression.

“Thought so,” he murmured and picked up where he left off.

His thrusts were filled with determination, spurred by your moans and whines as he fucked into you. His grip on your hips was tight but you didn’t mind.

“I wish someone was looking at you, too, though,” he confessed. “Want everyone to know how good you’re being fucked.”

“By you,” you added and started to move your hips to meet him halfway. “You’re fucking me so good.”

“That’s right, angel.” Jimin groaned at the way you moved your body, eyes shifting down to see how he disappeared between your folds.

“I’m close,” you whimpered. Your walls clenched around his cock and your legs began to buckle. Jimin gripped you tighter to make sure you didn’t fall.

“Me too,” Jimin said through gritted teeth. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

The softness of his words had you wishing you could kiss him, but the position he had pinned you in didn’t allow that. Instead, you nodded. You watched as people continued to drive or walk past. Although you couldn’t see anyone looking at you, you imagined someone was. The thought had you tumbling over the edge for the second time. Jimin’s name fell from your lips endlessly, legs giving out on you and you started to fall. However, Jimin’s hold on you was secure and you barely moved an inch downward.

It wasn’t long before you started to feel overstimulated. You mewled and wiggled in his grasp as he continued to slide in and out of your pussy. Just as you were about to nudge him away, Jimin pulled out and turned you around. He pushed you onto your knees; you were quick to get the hint and kneeled with your mouth open and tongue out.

“Fuck,” Jimin cursed at the sight and pumped his cock rapidly. You brought your hands to your chest and pushed your breasts up to make the sight more arousing for him. It seemed to work as Jimin came with a guttural moan, hot spurts of cum landing on your face and breasts.

You darted your tongue across your lips and hummed as you tasted him. Jimin’s breathing was harsh as he stared down at you, thinking how he got so lucky. He reached down and helped you stand up. He swiped a finger against your cheek, collecting some of his cum before bringing it to your lips.

You smiled as you wrapped your lips around his finger, licking it clean.

“Is this what people mean by white Christmas?” Jimin joked as he observed your state.

“No!” you shrieked and hit his chest playfully. Jimin laughed loudly and swatted your hand away.

“Well, they should. I kinda like this view better than the original,” he said. He walked to one of his cabinets in his office and pulled out a package of wipes. He pulled some out and started to clean off the mess he made on you.

You rolled your eyes at his comment and took one of the wipes to help. “You’re disgusting.”

“So, you don’t want me to give you a white Christmas next year?” he wondered.

The idea of spending the next holidays with him had the butterflies in your stomach go wild, however, you pushed those thoughts for later. Jimin took all the soiled wipes and tossed them in his trash bin.

“You’re not calling coming on my face as giving me a ‘white Christmas’!” you tsked, walking to the couch you sat on earlier. You eyed the pink device that was still one of the cushions. Jimin picked it up and stored it in one of his desk drawers, telling you he’d clean and return it to you later.

He came back to you grinning; he pressed a fleeting kiss to your lips. “Fine,” he relented. “Wait here, I have something to give you.”

“What?” You questioned and started fixing your clothes. Jimin ignored your question and took out two gift bags from another cabinet. Your gaze was down while he did so as you began to button your shirt only to realize some of your buttons were missing.

You were about to complain when you glanced up and saw the two bags in his hands.

“I thought Santa’s shift was over,” you teased as he sat next to you. Jimin smiled and shook his head.

“I guess these got left behind. Here,” he said and moved them near you. “They’re both yours.”

You hesitated as you took one from his hands. “But I didn’t get you anything.”

“Was I your Secret Santa?”

“No.”

“Exactly. You don’t owe me anything.”

You pouted at his response. “You already gave me a gift.”

“Count that as the appetizer. Now, I present to you your main course and dessert,” he said and gestured to the two bags.

“You call that,” you gestured to his desk that contained the vibrator, “an appetizer?”

“Just open the gifts, you brat,” he huffed playfully and nudged the gifts closer.

“Yeah, alright,” you dismissed and pulled off the tissue paper.

Inside the bag was a grey, soft blanket. The same one that was on your wish list. The other gift was a travel tripod. Your eyes were sparkling with excitement and happiness. It warmed Jimin’s heart and he watched you fondly as you spread the blanket open and covered you both.

“You really didn’t have to,” you said as you tinkered with the travel tripod. Jimin pulled your body closer, angling your legs so they rested across his lap.

“I wanted to get you something that was actually on your list, though,” he said, a faint blush creeping on his cheeks again.

You giggled and looked at him.

“I would’ve been perfectly happy with what you got me; especially because it came from you.”

Sue you, the line was cheesy. But it was worth it to see Jimin’s cheek redden. He cleared his throat and decided to change subjects.

“So, uh, you like me?” he asked nervously.

“Yes.” You nodded. “And you like me.”

The exchange was humorous and reminded you of kids finding out their feelings for their crush was reciprocal.

“Would you like to go on a date with me, then?”

You didn’t know how the same man who was so assertive in meetings could be the same cuddly, shy one next to you.

“Usually, people ask me on a date before they fuck me.”

“Well, I’m not like everyone else,” he countered and gave your legs a squeeze.

“I have to agree on that,” you said and brought his face closer to yours. “You’re the best.”

Jimin smiled as you pressed your lips against his. Without breaking the kiss, he shifted you to straddle his lap and moved the blanket over your shoulders.

What started as an innocent Secret Santa gift exchange turned into something better. After all, a date with Jimin was the best present you could have gotten this year. The Bluetooth vibrator was a close runner-up. You were positive this wouldn’t be the last time you used that gift. You weren’t sure if it would be in public again or at home. Regardless, as long as you used it with Jimin, you didn’t care.

Thank you, Ellie and Ash, for encouraging me to go with this fic title hehehehehhe

[wandaromanova]

Little Sister

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word, minor BW spoilers

A/N: hello! i’d like to note that this takes place sometime before the events in the Black Widow movie! if you haven’t seen the movie yet, please skip over this story and come back later if you’d like! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiii i have a fluff request after seeing bw haha: could you do nat x fem reader where they're laying in bed snuggling, and r asks her about her family and nat tells her and r notices how cute she looks when she's talking about yelena and it's so soft and ahhhh

Summary: Natasha tells her girlfriend about a piece of her past that she never talks about; her sister.

Word Count: 2K

| masterlist | request rules/guidelines | wips |

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Natasha Romanoff has lived a lot of lives. She has been through more than most.

Nat had been taken as an infant by an organization that trained little girls to become lethal assassins.

She was psychologically conditioned to become a killer, having taken more lives than she could count.

Eventually, Natasha had managed to break free from the cage she was forced into and was recruited as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent; it was a new start for her, an opportunity to compensate for the red in her ledger.

So, Natasha took her job seriously, saving as many people as she could, even more so when she became an Avenger; one of earth’s mightiest heroes.

Natasha found something in the team that she never really had before; a family. She found a home within the dysfunctional team she had been recruited into.

Not only did Natasha find a family within the Avengers; she also found the love of her life.

Natasha hadn’t even considered the possibility of ever finding love.

For starters, the Red Room had instilled the concept that love was nothing but a distraction; a liability.

She had been taught that love was for children and it was nothing but a weakness that needed to be avoided at all costs.

She was quite literally programmed to be emotionally closed off and to always have her guard up. Letting someone into her heart was a risk she didn’t want to take.

When Natasha gained her independence from the organization, she had to do a lot of self-discovering. She had never been able to be her own person, but now that she could, she quickly learned that she didn’t even know herself.

However, it was Natasha’s insecurities that truly turned her off from the entire idea of love.

How could any ever possibly love her? She thought she was a monster for the things she’d done. She has done the unspeakable since ever she was a child.

What if she wasn’t enough? What if her baggage was too much for someone else to carry? She didn’t want to be a burden. She didn’t want to have to protect someone, just to fail them like she had failed so many others.

Natasha was positive that no one would ever be crazy enough to love her.

Little did she know, she would end up finding someone crazy enough to do so; you.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

When the Avengers were formed, you were extremely nervous about it.

All of the files that you’ve read on your new teammates were unbelievable; they were all phenomenal in their own rights. A super-soldier, a god, a genius, a trained-spy.

You were a spy yourself, so you knew exactly who Natasha Romanoff was. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D legend, the best of the best.

You were more nervous about meeting her than anyone else. What if she judged you? What if she didn’t think you were good enough to be an agent, let alone an Avenger?

Not only was she your superior, but she was also your crush. Yeah, you’d never even met the woman before, but you were crushing on her hard.

She was drop-dead gorgeous, but also quite literally a deadly force. Natasha could easily take down anyone she wanted to, and honestly, you wanted to be one of those lucky people.

When you met Natasha for the first time, you were a flustered mess. The redhead found it amusing, how your cheeks turned a bright shade of red and you stumbled over your words as you praised her work.

Natasha never told you this, but she was immediately smitten the moment she laid eyes on you.

There was a kindness and positivity that just radiated off of you and it was extremely contagious.

You were this beaming ball of light that lit up the darkest parts of her soul.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You got to know Natasha extremely well while being on the team. From observing her closely and paying very close attention to her actions, you had managed to pick up on little things.

She didn’t put any creamer or sugar in her sugar; opting for strong, black coffee.

She was kind of a clean freak. If she saw something out of place, she would be quick to put it in the correct place or position.

When she was happy, she would let a small smirk cross her features. When she was annoyed, she would raise her eyebrows.

When she was stressed out or angry, three little creases would appear on her forehead as her eyebrows would knit together tightly; a subtle frown on her face.

Of course, when you began dating the redhead, you didn’t really have to survey her so closely anymore because she’d tell you things herself.

No matter the circumstances, Natasha would always come to you and rant about it. Whether it was about how shitty a mission went or how she beat Clint’s ass during training; you were the only person she wanted to tell.

Natasha had opened up to you, something she never did with anyone. She told you all about her past.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You had some knowledge of Natasha’s previous life, considering it was in her files, but you didn’t realize just how horrible her childhood truly was.

The Red Room, the heavy weight of guilt that rests on her shoulders, the nightmares that forced her to relive the murders she committed, her time as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and becoming an Avenger.

She’d go on and on about her road to redemption or ‘clearing the red out of her ledger.’

Natasha was terrified when she told you about her demons. She figured you were going to leave her the second she finished talking, waiting for you to get up and walk out the door, but you didn’t.

So, you completely caught her off guard when you pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, placing a soft kiss onto her temple, the redhead relaxing in your embrace.

“You’re the strongest person I know. It’s not your fault, you were forced and conditioned to do the things you did.”

Natasha focused on the sound of your voice and took in your words as you softly caressed her red locks with one hand.

“Baby, the amount of respect I have for you is immeasurable. I applaud you for turning your life around for the better. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Your words had brought tears to Natasha’s eyes, which was a rare occurrence.

She was expecting you to run for the hills, but you chose to pull her closer instead.

In that moment, Natasha knew she never had to be afraid of love again.

You were the most understanding and accepting person she’d ever met.

You would never judge her for her worst mistakes; Natasha had found the one for her and she wasn’t ever going to let go.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

Now, a few months later and a year into your relationship with the Russian, you were both lying in bed and cuddling.

You were both watching a movie when a particular scene came on. It was of a family gathering around a Christmas tree, children excitedly opening up presents with gleeful smiles across their faces.

“You know, my sister and I got to take pictures with a Christmas tree once.” Natasha spoke, her eyes fixated on the screen.

You looked up at her in shock. You didn’t know that Natasha had a sister. She told you that she didn’t even so much as know her parent’s names.

Natasha looked down and noticed your confused expression. She reached for the remote on the bedside table and paused the movie before returning her gaze to you.

“There was a mission I was assigned to in Ohio, as a kid. I was assigned to play the daughter of two other Russian spies, Alexei and Melina. It wasn’t just me though, there was a little girl who was assigned as my younger sister. Her name is Yelena.”

Natasha had a reminiscent, happy smile on her face as she recalled the brief period time of her childhood. She looked absolutely adorable as she rambled on about this part of her childhood.

“We took photoshoots of various holidays to make our family look more realistic. My favorite one was Christmas. Even though I knew they were just empty boxes, I wanted to rip open every single one.”

Natasha let out a small giggle at the thought. Even though she had a smile on her face, you could feel and hear the underlying tone of sadness in her voice.

“Yelena and I would spend hours outside, just playing together. Swinging on the swing-sets, looking up at the stars, bending over backward, and getting into a ridiculous competition to see who could hold the position the longest… I always let her win.”

You could see the fondness in her eyes, the longing. It warmed your heart that there was a small glimmer of light in Natasha’s past. There was at least a sliver of hope that she clung tightly onto throughout her time in the Red Room.

“After 3 years, the mission ended. Yelena and I were sent back to the Red Room and were torn apart from one another.

Natasha’s breathing grew heavier as she recalled the unfaithful day. The sight of her sister being taken, and not being able to do anything to help her; still haunted the redhead to this day.

“There were so many men with guns and armor, they literally ripped us away from each other. I was eleven and she was only six.”

Your heart sunk at your girlfriend’s words as her smile dropped. She tore her eyes away from yours as she blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, but failed. You reached your hand up to her cheek and wiped away the fallen droplets.

“I haven’t seen her since. I’d like to think that she found a way out and got a life of her own; a nice, happy life.”

Natasha placed her hand on top of yours before looking down at you once more. You sent her a soft smile when she let out a shaky breath.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I knew that the it was all fake, but it was still the best part of my childhood. It was real to me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You nodded your head at her words. She took a brief pause, trying to regain her composure, before continuing.

“Even if we have no true relation to one another, and even if I haven’t seen her in years, she is still my little sister.”

Natasha finished off with a big gasp as sobs wracked her body. You sat up from her embrace and pulled her into your arms, just like you had many times before.

You rubbed her back soothingly as she cried into your shoulder, her tears hitting the exposed skin.

“She sounds amazing, baby. I’m really happy that you had some sort of happiness back then and I hope one day you get to see her again.”

You whispered and Natasha pulled away from the hug, still in your arms as her emerald eyes surrounded by a sea of red, a result of her crying.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I doubt she’d even want to see me. I didn’t even try to find her. I’m a horrible sister! I-“

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You immediately pressed your lips against hers, effectively getting the Russian to calm down. You broke the kiss when her breathing slowed.

“Honey, of course, she’d want to see you again. Like you said, you guys are sisters. I’m positive that it was just as real to her as it was to you.”

You reassured your girlfriend, her eyes a pool of worry and guilt. You rubbed your thumb against her waist, the material of your her hoodie beneath your touch.

“From what you’ve told me about the Red Room, it would’ve been impossible to find her. Stop beating yourself up over it. You’re the best, and I’m totally not biased or anything.”

Natasha let out a small chuckle at that and you smiled at her, wiping away the last of her tears. She collapsed into your hold further, shoving her face into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much.”

Natasha’s words came out muffled as her face pressed further into your skin.

“You never need to thank me for anything. I’ll always be here for you, Natty.”

You hugged her as tight as you possibly could, her cold skin meeting your warmth. Natasha let out a small sigh at the feeling.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wherever you go, I go.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[sunsents]

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

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

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

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

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

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

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

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

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

Five Years Later, 2003

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

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

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Auntie ____!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

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

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

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

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

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

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

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

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

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

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

“Wha-“

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

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

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

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

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

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

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

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

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

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

————————

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

Jambo’s no different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absolute blasphemy.

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

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

Of course your logic sucks.

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

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

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

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

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

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, down girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.” he says softly.

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

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

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

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

“Eva!”

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

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

Fred winces. “Actually-”

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

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

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

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

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

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

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like a you problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.

Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.

“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”

Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”

The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.

For a moment, you forget where you’re going.

Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.

Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.

Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.

You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.

You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.

Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.

You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.

“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.

“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.

“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”

You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”

George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”

When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.

The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.

Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support

“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.

Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.

You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.

“____!”

Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”

Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”

“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”

You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.

“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”

Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.”  he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”